#WE LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME AND ARE THE SAME AGE LITERALLY THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS MY HAIR IS BROWN

[thebonejunky]

and what if i created a handmade rosary fashioned out of real bones for my harrowhark cosplay (and just for myself as well maybe) so i could be as real-to-life harrowhark as possible

[d1stalker]

This is Ours [Logan Howlett]

Summary: It's your first time back at your grandparents' farm in years, and while many things are the same, one thing is not: they've hired a new farmhand.

Warnings: fem!reader, SMUT, sexual tension, angst, fluff, lots of feelings WC: 18.8k - MASTERLIST

A/N: apologies for dropping another long fic but i literally could not stop writing the juices were flowing. i really hope you enjoy this! i think its my fave so far :)

----

For as long as you can remember, summers were synonymous with your grandparents' farm. It was a tradition, one you held close to your heart. To you, your time there embodied your entire childhood—days spent under the sun, where the air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and the soothing chorus of cicadas filling the long, golden afternoons.

Mornings began early, with you bounding downstairs to join your grandparents for breakfast. The kitchen was always filled with the comforting aroma of fresh coffee and pancakes. Your grandfather would be at the table, engrossed in his newspaper, while your grandmother hummed softly as she cooked, the sound of the morning radio playing faintly in the background. Your days were spent exploring the fields, helping with the chores and horses, or sitting on the porch with your grandmother, listening to stories from her youth.

It couldn’t get any more perfect than that. 

But as the years passed, things changed. After you graduated high school, the summer visits became less frequent. University took up more of your time, and you were always busy—first with classes, then with internships, and finally with starting your career. The farm, once the centre of your world, became a place you could only visit if you were lucky, and even then, it was never for long. 

You miss it.

This year, however, things were different. You found yourself in between jobs, with the first real break you’d had in what felt like forever. And when the moment the opportunity arose, you knew exactly where you wanted to go. 

—

The drive to your grandparents' farm is a journey into the past. The country road, lined with trees that stretched out like old friends, brings back a flood of memories from your childhood: where you’re sitting in the back of your parent’s car vibrating with excitement. You pass the same fields, still as vast and green as you remember, dotted with flowers swaying gently in the breeze, and the old oak tree where you used to swing as a child stands tall, its branches reaching up to the sky as if welcoming you back.

When you finally pull up to the farmhouse, the sight of it fills you with a deep sense of nostalgia. The white paint is more chipped than you remember, the porch sags a little more in the middle, and you can tell that it’s been a while since the grass was last trimmed. 

Stepping out of the car, the screen door squeaks open, and there’s your grandmother, standing on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s smaller than you remember, more fragile, but the smile on her face is the same—warm, welcoming, and full of love. “There’s my girl,” she calls out, rushing down the steps and into the driveway as fast as she can. 

“Grandma!” you exclaim, hurrying toward her to wrap her in a hug.

She pulls back to look at you, her eyes twinkling despite the lines of age etched on her face. “You’ve grown even more beautiful, but you look tired. We’ll fix that with some good meals, won’t we?”

You laugh, nodding. “I missed your cooking.”

“And I missed having someone to cook for,” she replies with a chuckle, patting your cheek. “Come inside. Your grandpa’s been counting down the days until you got here.”

You grab your suitcase from your car and follow her into the house, the familiar scents of fresh bread and old wood enveloping you the minute you step inside. It’s just as you remember—cozy, lived-in, filled with the glow of years worth of love and memories. Your grandfather sits at the kitchen table, a pair of reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he reads a book. He looks up as you enter, and the moment he sees you, his face breaks into a wide grin.

“There’s my favourite farmhand,” he jokes, letting out a grunt as he places one hand on the table, slowly pushes out of his chair. 

“Grandpa,” you say, meeting him halfway for a hug. 

“Got here just in time,” he says with a wink. “Plenty of work to do, you know.”

“I figured,” you reply, playfully nudging him. “I’m ready to get my hands dirty.”

“Good to hear,” he says, leaning back against the table for support. “This old back of mine isn’t what it used to be.”

Your grandmother sets a glass of lemonade in front of you and sits down, her eyes flicking toward the window. “We’ve had to make some changes around here, sweetheart,” she begins gently. “Your grandpa and I… well, we can’t do as much as we used to.”

You hum, listening carefully. Seeing your grandparents grow older is difficult—it's a constant reminder that time is slipping away, and the moments you have together are becoming more precious with each passing day.

“We’ve hired some help,” she continues. “A man named Logan. He’s been a blessing, really, taking care of the heavier work. But he’s… well, he’s not much of a talker.”

“Logan?” you ask, glancing out the window. 

That’s when you see him. Tall and broad-shouldered, he is out by the barn, carrying some hay. He’s wearing a worn-down flannel with jeans, and his dark hair is slightly tousled. Even from a distance, you can tell he’s strong—he looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

“Yeah, Logan,” your grandfather confirms. “Keeps to himself mostly, but he’s get’s the job done. Don’t mind his gruffness; he’s just not used to people fussing over him.”

“He’s been here since last spring,” your grandmother adds. “We needed the help, and he needed the work. It’s been good for both sides. You should go and introduce yourself after you unpack, dear. Maybe get in some work before we sit for dinner later.”

Nodding, you walk up the stairs in the house and make your way to your room. It looks exactly the same as the last time you saw it. Your old stuffed animals are organized neatly on the shelf above the bed, and the quilt your grandmother made for you, with patches of faded fabric from old dresses and curtains, is spread across the bed the exact same way it’s always been. 

The posters on the walls, the little knickknacks on the dresser—everything is a snapshot of your younger self, preserved in this room like a time capsule. It’s comforting, but also a little bittersweet, a reminder of how much time has passed since you had last visited.

After a few moments of reminiscing, you stand up and begin unpacking, carefully placing your clothes in the old wooden dresser. Each drawer creaks as you open it, the sound a part of this room’s charm. You smile as you come across some of the little treasures you left behind—a pressed flower between the pages of an old book, a seashell from a family trip to the coast, and last, a picture of you and your grandparents taken one summer when you were about ten.

You’re standing between them, beaming with a toothy grin, their arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. The three of you are standing in front of the barn, with the sun setting behind you. You can almost hear your grandmother’s laugh as the camera clicked, your grandfather’s playful grumbling about having to pose for ‘just one more picture.’ The photo captures a moment of pure happiness, a snapshot of a simpler time.

Setting the photo down, you quickly begin to change into your designated farm clothes, and head out to meet the new face around here. 

The trek to the barn isn’t very long, just a few minutes away from the main house, and from the outside, you can hear the familiar sounds of work—footsteps crunching on the hay-strewn floor, the creak of wood as something heavy is moved. You pause at the doorway, taking a moment to observe him before stepping inside. He’s focused, his movements efficient as he lifts another bale of hay and stacks it with the others. 

You take a deep breath, and step into the barn. “Logan?” you call out softly.

He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but with a slight pause and glance over his shoulder, his eyes, sharp and intense, meet yours, and there’s a moment where you’re not sure what to say. “I’m—”

“I already know who you are,” he grunts, cutting you off. 

His abruptness catches you off guard, but you quickly recover, nodding. “Right. I guess that makes sense.”

“If you wanna help, there’s a broom in the back shed,” he continues, going back to his work as if the conversation is already over. “You could sweep up the hay.”

You bristle, a little surprised at how quickly he dismissed you, but you’re determined not to let it rattle you. After all, your grandparents did warn you that he wasn’t much of a talker.  “Sure,” you say. “I can do that.”

As you turn to head toward the back shed, you find yourself lightly imitating his gruff tone under your breath, a flicker of irritation running through you. “There’s a broom in the back shed. Yeah, obviously, I know where the broom would be,” you mutter.

In the shed, the broom is in fact, exactly where you expected it to be, and you huff, grabbing it and walking back to the barn. When you return, Logan is still hard at work, stacking the hay, and doesn’t bother to acknowledge you yet again. You set to work sweeping, the rhythmic motion of the broom soon lulling you into a steady state. The barn is quiet, save for the soft shuffling of hay under your broom and the occasional grunt from Logan as he moves the heavy bales.

Time seems to pass slowly, the light outside growing softer as the sun dips lower in the sky. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you barely notice when Logan’s footsteps stop. It’s only when his voice breaks the silence that you’re pulled back to the present.

“Your grandma called for dinner,” he says, causing you to jump a bit at the unexpectedness of his voice in the silence. Before you can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with the broom still in hand. You let out a small sigh, feeling the tension in your shoulders. This is going to be a long few months, you think to yourself as you return the broom to its usual place and jog back to the farmhouse.

Inside, the kitchen smells like a warm hearty stew. The table is already set, the familiar blue-and-white checkered tablecloth in place, and your grandparents are seated, chatting quietly as they wait for you and Logan to join them.

You slide into the seat across from your grandmother just as Logan walks over from the sink, two glasses of water in his hands. He places one in front of you with a quick nod, and the other at his own seat, beside yours.

“So,” your grandmother says, her eyes shining with curiosity as she looks between the both of you. “I take it you’ve introduced yourselves to each other?”

You hesitate momentarily, your mind flashing back to your brief encounter in the barn. “Yeah, we have,” you reply, managing a smile, if you can call it that. 

Logan doesn’t say anything, his focus on the bowl of stew in front of him. He doesn’t seem interested in joining the conversation, which only adds to the growing sense of awkwardness you feel. You glance at him briefly, wondering if he’s always this closed off or if it’s just his way of dealing with new people.

“Well, that’s good,” your grandmother says, either oblivious to the tension or choosing to ignore it. “Logan’s been a big help around here. We’re so grateful to have him.”

Your grandfather hums in agreement, scooping a spoonful of stew into his mouth before adding, “He’s got a strong work ethic. Doesn’t shy away from the tough jobs, that’s for sure.”

Nodding along, you feel the pressure to say something positive. “That’s great. It’s good to know the farm’s in good hands.” Even thought the words are definitely a bit forced, you mean it. 

As the conversation continues, your grandparents shift the focus to you, asking about your job search and what you’ve been up to since you last visited. You give them a brief rundown of the interviews you’ve had, the options you’re considering, and the challenges you’ve faced. You try to keep it light, not wanting to worry them with your uncertainty, but you can’t help but notice the man’s presence beside you, still silent. 

At one point, when you’re talking about finding a new apartment, you hear him let out a quiet scoff, and you cast a look over, catching the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. It’s gone almost as quickly as it appears, but it’s enough to make you pause. You want to ask him what that was about, to challenge him on whatever it is he’s thinking, but you bite your tongue. This isn’t the time or place, not in front of your grandparents who are just happy to have everyone around the table.

They continue to chat with you, asking more about your plans and offering their usual words of encouragement. When dinner finally wraps up, your grandmother insists on cleaning up, waving you off when you offer to help. “You’ve had a long day, dear. Why don’t you go relax? Logan can help me with the dishes.”

You smile. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He’s already started collecting the dishes by the time you stand up, but it’s like he refuses to recognize your existence, and that pisses you off. 

—

The next morning, you wake before dawn, the world still wrapped in the gentle embrace of night, and for a moment, you lie still, listening to the deep, pulsing of the house—the way the wooden floors creak slightly as they settle, the distant sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside. The comfort of knowing your grandparents are asleep down the hall brings a sense of calm that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Deciding to take advantage of the early hour, you slip out of bed, your feet brushing against the cool floor as you stretch, feeling the muscles in your body slowly wake. You dress quietly, pulling on a soft, worn sweater, and pad downstairs, careful to avoid the spots on the stairs that you know will creak.

You move through the kitchen as if on autopilot, your hands knowing exactly where everything is. You set the coffee to brew, and the rich aroma sills the room.

Reaching for the eggs, you crack a few of them into a bowl, and as you’re whisking, you let your mind wander, thinking about how to spend the day. The soft sizzle of butter in the pan gets your attention and you pour the eggs in, watching as they begin to set around the edges. 

You pour yourself a cup of coffee, the steam rising from the mug in delicate spirals, and you take a sip, savouring the warmth and flavour hitting your tongue, while your gaze drifts over to the window that faces the back of the farmhouse. 

Your grandparents’ own horses, and you recognize some of them from when you were younger. It makes you happy knowing that they’re still being well taken care of. The way the early light touches the land, and the morning dew covers the grass, you can’t help but smile into your mug. 

Slowly, you walk a bit closer to the window, eager to take in the view you had been missing all these years, when a figure standing over by the horses catches your eye. It’s Logan, a small surprise given the early hour—you didn’t hear him wake up—but he stands there, leaning casually against the fence, an apple in his hand. 

You watch as he holds out the apple to one of the horses, his rough hand moving gently over its neck as it eats. There’s something unexpectedly tender in the way he interacts with the animal, a patience and care that you didn’t expect to see from him, given how he acted yesterday. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out another apple, offering it to the second horse, who hungrily accepts it. You continue to stare at the sight outside. This side of him—so different from the unapproachable exterior he’s shown so far—stirs something inside you, a desire to connect with him, to see if there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On impulse, you quickly turn off the stove, grab a second cup of coffee and some toast you’ve just buttered, and without overthinking it, you head outside. The morning air is cool against your skin as you make your way over to Logan. 

As you approach, he keeps his attention focused on the horses. You take a moment, then clear your throat lightly, holding out the coffee with a tentative smile. “Thought you might want some breakfast,” you offer, trying to keep your tone light and friendly.

He finally glances at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours. His expression is just as unreadable his had been in the last sixteen hours you’ve known him, and then he grunts, “Already ate,” and turns his attention back to the animals in front of him.

His curt, and honestly rude rebuffals really frustrate you. It’s not like you’re asking him to wipe your ass after you go to the washroom, so you have absolutely no idea why he’s like this. 

“Alright,” you mutter, lips pressed together in a thin line, and turn to head back into the kitchen. 

Once inside, you set the untouched coffee and toast back on the counter with a sigh. You feel a tad bit awkward. You’re going to be spending the next however-many-months with him, and you would love it if you could at the very least, get along. His rough-around-the-edges personality is not making this enjoyable for you, and you’re sure that he probably just see’s you as an annoying nuisance. 

And it’s not like you’re ever going to pull this card on him or anything, but you have been here longer than him, despite the fact that he’s acting like he owns the place. You get it, he’s been here for a for a while, and it’s only been him doing the work, blah blah. But you’ve been helping and doing the work your entire childhood—missing a few years doesn’t take away that fact. 

With a heavy sigh, you open a cupboard and pull out a plate, scraping the eggs off the pan and setting them on it. Because your grandparents’ are still asleep, all you can do is eat in silence.

—

You’ve decided that today you are going to trim the grass. There’s always something to do around here, and since the long grass was one of the first things you noticed upon arrival, you think it’s best to just get that chore over with, considering how long you know it will take. 

Once you’ve finished cleaning the dishes and pan, you go back upstairs into your room and get changed. Today, you put on a long sleeve, and a small vest over top. Your pants are some hand-me-down working pants from one of your older cousins, and you snatch a baseball cap from your closet for when it begins to get hotter out. 

Walking to the back shed, you grab some tools for trimming the lawn. A lawn mower, a string trimmer, and a rake for after everything’s been cut. Moving over to the back section of the lawn, you set the trimmer and rake against the barn and start using the mower. It’s the same one your grandparents have used since you were a child, so it’s a reel lawn mower instead of those newer, more electrical ones you’ve seen around the city. 

You can’t really complain about it, so you just begin, the steady repetitive action of moving the tool back and forth being somewhat therapeutic. The smell of freshly cut grass begins to hit your senses, and you truly feel at peace. 

As the minutes pass, the sun rises higher, its warmth spreading across the fields. You’re completely absorbed in your work, the rhythm of mowing and the occasional chirp of birds the only sounds around you. You’ve missed this. The sounds of cars honking and early morning city traffic has nothing on the serenity of country life. 

You’re just completing the first half when you sense movement nearby. Glancing up, you see Logan walking up to you, having grabbed the trimmer. He doesn’t say anything, just starts up the machine and heads over to the next patch of grass within the area.

There’s a brief moment of eye-contact, like a subtle unspoken recognition to the effort you seem to be putting in. He gives you a small nod, and turns to focus on his task. The two of you work side by side, the hum of the machines, the scent of fresh-cut grass, and the warm sun overhead creating a strangely comforting atmosphere. 

When you finally finish, few hours have passed, and you walk back over to the barn and grab a lawn bag and the rake. And because Logan’s machine was electric, he seems to have finished his section as well, so you begin raking up all the stray pieces of grass. 

You quick to find out how awkward it is to hold the lawn bag open with one hand while trying to rake with the other—the grass keeps slipping out of the bag, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous as you fumble with the task. You scan around, hoping Logan won’t notice, but of course, he’s right there, watching as you flail around.

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, but before you can say anything, he steps forward. Like usual it seems, he doesn’t say a word, just holds out his hand as if asking for the rake. You falter briefly, not wanting to seem like you need his help, but at the same time you understand how much more efficient it would be if he joined. 

Reluctantly, you hand it over, and he immediately starts working with the same steady efficiency he brought to trimming the grass. With both hands free, you manage the lawn bag more effectively, holding it open as Logan rakes the grass into neat piles.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable; instead, it feels like a natural extension of the morning’s work. The sound of the rake scraping against the ground, the rustle of grass being gathered, and the occasional whinny from a horse nearby. 

After the last of the grass is finally raked and bagged, you tie off the lawn bag and glance over at him. He leans the rake against the barn wall and meets your gaze. There’s something in the way he seems to stare at you head on this time, rather than just a quick look, that makes your chest fill with satisfaction. 

You nod. “Thanks.”

Logan dips his chin in return, then turns and heads back toward the barn. The heat of the sun really starts to hit you now, and you take a peak at your watch, noticing that it’s already lunch time. Knowing that even if you tried to invite him, he’s probably say no, you just walk back to the farmhouse alone. 

—

The next couple of weeks unfold in the same way, moving with an almost predictable rhythm. Each morning, you wake before the sun, quietly slipping out of bed while your grandparent’s are still asleep. As you prepare and eat breakfast, you take your usual place by the kitchen window, watching as Logan interacts with the horses. 

Then, as the sun rises higher, you head out to begin your chores around the farm. Sometimes, Logan joins you without a word—his presence now a familiar and abating part of your routine—or sometimes, you find yourself working alone, but even then, you know he’s never far away. 

You’ve learned to read his silences, to understand that his gruff demeanor isn’t necessarily unfriendliness, but rather his way of navigating the world. And though he doesn’t speak much, his actions have a way of communicating more than words ever could.

One morning, as you’re finishing up breakfast, your grandparents announce their plans to head into one of the nearby cities for the day. “We need to run some errands and pick up a few things,” your grandmother explains, her hands busy packing a small bag. “But we were thinking it might be nice for the horses to get out and see some different scenery too.”

“They haven’t been to the pond in a while. It’s good for them to stretch their legs and take in some new sights.” Your grandfather chimes in. 

You nod, smiling at the thought. The pond is a beautiful spot, a peaceful place where the water runs clear and cool, surrounded by tall trees and soft grass. It’s the perfect place to spend a day with the horses. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll take them out there for the day.”

Your grandmother’s eyes light up as she hands you a basket. “I packed some food and a blanket for a picnic. There are also a couple of towels in case you want to swim. It’ll be a lovely day for it.”

“Thank you,” you say, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind the preparations. You take the basket and head upstairs to get ready, the idea of spending the day by the pond filling you with excitement. It’s been a long time since you’ve been there last. 

In your room, you change into your bathing suit, a simple bikini that you’ve always loved for its comfort and ease. You slip on a loose shirt and shorts over it, then grab a few essentials before heading back downstairs. Your grandparents have already left, so you make your way out to the barn to prepare the horses.

As you start saddling them up, you notice Logan nearby, focused on his usual tasks. His presence has become so customary to you that you hardly think twice before calling out to him. “Hey, Logan,” you say, catching his attention.

“I’m heading to the pond with the horses,” you tell him, nodding toward the saddled horses. “Grandma’s packed some food and a blanket for a picnic. There are even towels if you want to swim. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

He hesitates, his gaze shifting to the horses, then back to you. After a moment, he mutters, “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

The admission takes you by surprise, and you raise an eyebrow. “Really? But you’ve been here for over a year. I just assumed—”

He shakes his head slightly, cutting you off. “I’ve always just walked alongside them. Holdin’ onto the reins is one thing, but I’ve never actually been on top of one.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “That’s okay,” you say gently. “You can still join us. You can walk alongside like you usually do, and tomorrow, if you’re up for it, I’ll teach you how to ride.”

Logan peers at you for a long moment, considering your words. Finally, he nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”

“Great,” you reply, your smile widening. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

With that settled, you both finish preparing for the trip. Logan helps you load the picnic basket, blanket, and towels onto one of the horses. You mount your favourite horse, and gently click your heels into its side, starting the trip as he begins walking, horses in tow, beside you. 

The journey to the pond is beautiful. The green trees that frame the pathway, the soft buzzing of nature, the sound of the horses’ hooves. You and Logan exchange a few words, but for the most part, it’s silent. 

When you reach the pond, the sight is just as picturesque as you remembered. The water sparkles under the sunlight, the tall trees casting dappled shadows across the grassy bank. You untie the horses, giving them plenty of room to graze and explore, before you grab the picnic basket, while he grabs the towels and blankets. Making your way over to the other side of the creek, you find a nice open patch of grass to set up on.

“I’m going for a quick dip,” you say as you go about stepping out of your shorts. Logan, who is sitting down, looks up, but his eyes seem to stop dead in their tracks when they settle on your body. You swear you can physically see his gaze darken as he takes in the sight of you stripping off your shirt. It’s subtle, but a small shiver runs down your spine at the attention nonetheless.

Without waiting for a response, you turn and and head toward the pond. The temperature is perfect: just cool enough to be refreshing without being cold.

You dive in, the reservoir embracing you as a much-needed relief from the heat. Everything feels perfect—the gentle current against your skin, the refreshing sensation of being submerged, and the weightlessness of floating just beneath the surface. 

But when you lift your head out of the water, you and Logan immediately lock eyes.

He’s lying back on the blanket, propped up on one elbow, and his focus is squarely on you. The intensity of his stare is like a physical force, pinning you in place. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in time. Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel a heat build within you, starting in your chest and traveling down, deeper, and deeper…But then, just as suddenly as it began, he looks away, and if you were any closer, you may have been able to spot the red flush creeping up the back of his neck and to the tip of his ears.

The moment is over, but the enduring feeling of it stays with you as you swim back to the shore. Water drips from your body as you step out, and you reach for one of the towels your grandmother packed. Once you’ve dried off, you walk over to where Logan is sitting and drop down beside him on the blanket. 

You are aware of eyes on you again, though this time there’s a hesitation in the way they travel over your form, as if he’s trying to be discreet but can’t quite help himself. You pretend not to notice as you reach for the picnic basket.

“I’m starving,” you say, pulling out the sandwiches your grandmother packed. “Want one?”

He nods, sitting up a little straighter as you hand him a sandwich. After a few bites, curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to break the ice. “So,” you start, glancing over at him, “how did you end up here, working on my grandparents’ farm?”

He takes his time chewing and swallowing before he answers, his eyes focused on the food in his hands. “I was passing through,” he says finally. “Didn’t plan on stayin’. But your grandparents… they’re good people. Needed help, so I stuck around.”

You nod, taking another bite. “They are good people,” you agree, thinking of how much they’ve done for you over the years. “But where were you headed before that? Where are you from?”

Logan pauses for a moment, then looks over at you. “Alberta,” he says. “Grew up there, mostly. Been a lot of places since, but Alberta’s home—or was.”

You smile, finding comfort in the fact that he’s sharing a bit more. “Alberta’s beautiful,” you say, remembering the few times you’d traveled through the province. “Why’d you leave?”

He shrugs, glancing out toward the creek. “Needed a change. Wanted to see what else was out there. Guess I got used to movin’ around, never really settlin’ anywhere.”

You nod thoughtfully, taking in his words. “Must have been hard, never really having a place to call home.”

His gaze meets yours, and there’s a hint of something softer in his eyes. “Yeah,” he admits, his voice quieter. “But your grandparents… they’ve made it easier. This farm… it’s good.”

You smile warmly at him. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been a huge help to them. And… well, I’ve liked having you around.”

He glances at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, it’s been alright,” he mutters, a small, imperceptible smirk on his lips. You smile bashfully.

The next couple of hours pass by in a blur. Not much conversation happens, but rather, these weird periods of time where you feel as though your eyes are glued to him, and he you. It’s different—unexpected—and to put it frankly, you feel a bit shy underneath his gaze. 

Logan is attractive, anyone with eyes could see that, but it really wasn’t just his face that pulled you in, it was him. The way he would silently help you with chores, his soft moments every morning with the horses, the way he subtly looks over your grandparents’ when he thinks they arent watching. All of it. You want to spend more time with him, learn more about who he is, what he likes… all of it.

Soon enough, you both begin to pack up the picnic supplies, load up the horses, and head back to the farm. The horses seem content, having had a fun day grazing and napping by the pond, and you ride beside him as he walks. Every now and then, you catch him peeking up at you from under his eyelashes, his eyes lingering just a bit longer each time. 

You can see your grandparent’s car in the driveway as you near the farm, meaning they’ve also returned from their day in the city. Leading the horses back into the barn, the two of you go through the motions of the familiar routine of unsaddling them, brushing them down, and making sure they’re comfortable for the night. 

Once they’re all settled for the night, Logan steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans as he looks at you. 

“So ‘bout tomorrow…” He begins, shifting slightly, as if unsure how to phrase what he wants to say. “You really think you can teach me to ride?”

You grin excitedly. “Of course. I’ll come out after I’ve eaten breakfast.”

“Alright then,” he says, pivoting toward the doors, his lips twitching just barely, but enough. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

Your fingers are twitching at your sides as you watch him leave. You wait a few moments, then head out as well, closing and locking up the barn for the night. When you step into the house, you find your grandparents in the living room, their faces lit by the soft glow of a lamp as they relax on the chesterfield. 

“How was your day?” your grandmother asks, looking up from her knitting with a bright smile.

“It was nice,” you reply. “The horses loved it, and the pond was as beautiful as ever. We had a picnic, and it was really peaceful.”

Your grandfather, who’s been quietly sipping his tea, sets down his cup and regards you with a knowing look. “And Logan? Did he go with you?”

You nod, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks at the mention of their helper. “Yeah, he came along. He’s never ridden a horse before, so he just walked with us. But I’m going to teach him tomorrow.”

Your grandparents exchange a look, and your grandmother’s eyes sparkle with amusement and something more tender as she smiles at you. “That’s good, dear. He’s a bit of a mystery, that one, but I can tell he’s got a good heart. Sometimes people just need a little time to open up.”

Chatting with your grandparent’s a bit longer, you listen intently as they fill you in on their activities. You can faintly hear the sound of Logan’s footsteps upstairs as he gets ready for bed. The memory of his gaze on you makes your heart beat a smidge faster. 

—

Logan is unsurprisingly already at the barn when you arrive the next morning. He’s leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Morning,” you greet. “You ready to get started?”

Logan glances at the horses, then back at you. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You lead him over to the horses, choosing one of the gentler ones for him to work with, and begin by showing him how to properly saddle the horse, explaining each step as you go. Logan watches intently, though you can see the slight furrow in his brow as he takes in all the information.

As soon as the horse is all saddled up, you hand him the reins. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Go ahead and mount up.”

He wavers for just a moment, his eyes on the horse as if weighing his options. But then, with a deep breath, he grabs the saddle and swings himself up with ease. He sits stiffly at first, his hands gripping the reins a bit too tightly, but he doesn’t look as uncomfortable as you would have expected. Definitely better than your first attempt.

“You’re doing great,” you reassure him, moving to stand beside the horse. “Just relax. The horse can sense if you’re tense, so try to loosen up a bit.”

He takes another breath, visibly trying to relax his posture. It’s clear that he’s out of his comfort zone, but he’s determined to push through. You walk him through the basics of steering and controlling the horse, keeping your tone calm and encouraging.

After a few minutes, you guide him around the paddock, walking alongside the horse to make sure he feels secure. Logan follows your instructions with serious concentration, his movements becoming more and more natural as he gets used to the rhythm of the horse’s steps.

“You’re doing really well,” you tell him, smiling up at him. “Want to try picking up the pace a little?”

He glances down at you warily at first, but then he nods. “Yeah. Let’s give it a shot.”

You guide him through a gentle trot, staying close enough to offer guidance but giving him enough space to figure things out on his own. The horse picks up speed, and you watch as he adjusts, his body moving in sync with the animal’s movements. There’s a moment when he looks down at you, a spark of surprise in his eyes as he realizes he’s actually getting the hang of it.

As the morning progresses, Logan becomes more comfortable in the saddle, his confidence growing with each passing minute. You spend the next hour practicing different techniques, guiding him through turns, stops, and even a slow canter. He’s a quick learner, and despite the initial awkwardness, you can tell he’s starting to enjoy himself.

Eventually, you lead him back to the paddock, bringing the horse to a stop. He dismounts, still a bit tense but clearly pleased with himself. He hands you the reins, his eyes meeting yours with a look that’s both grateful and slightly sheepish.

“Not bad for a first-timer,” you say with a grin, patting the horse’s neck.

He huffs a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… you’re a good teacher.”

The compliment, simple as it is, makes your heart skip a beat. There’s something about the way he says it, the sincerity in his tone, that makes you feel a warm glow inside. He begins to walk toward the back shed, undoubtedly going to start on his morning chores, but you find yourself wanting to hold onto this moment just a bit longer. 

“Logan,” you call out, stopping him in his tracks.

He turns back, his eyes questioning.

“Thanks for this morning. I really enjoyed it.”

Logan studies you for a second, then he gives you a small smile. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

—

The days come and go, blending into one another as your first month at the farm passes by in what feels like the blink of an eye. The sun seems to rise earlier and set later with each passing day, stretching the hours out in a way that makes everything feel both languid and endless, and the heat only intensifies, something you didn’t think was possible. 

Despite the longer days and rising temperatures, you and Logan’s daily routines have now intertwined in a way that feels as natural as breathing. The once solitary moments you spent watching him out with the horses have now become something shared. Every morning, without fail, the two of you meet by the barn, where the horses greet you with soft nickers and eager eyes, ready for their daily ride.

He’s improved a lot. He no longer looks uncomfortable or stiff, and he’s able to guide his horse with an ease that surprises even him. You can see the subtle shift in his posture, the way he holds the reins with a sureness that wasn’t there before. 

And just like when you work on the farm together, sometimes, the two of you ride in a comfortable silence—the only sounds being the soft snorts of the horses and the creak of leather saddles. But more often than not, you chat about everything and nothing, your conversations easy and unforced. 

Logan, who once spoke only in short, clipped sentences, has begun to open up more, sharing bits and pieces of his past, his thoughts, and his observations about life on the farm. You learn that he has a sarcastic, dry sense of humor, one that often catches you off guard and leaves you laughing in spite of yourself. He even joins you for your usual morning breakfast of eggs and toast, something that started only a few days into your new morning ritual. 

Yet throughout all of this, there’s a something growing between you and Logan, simmering just beneath the surface. 

It manifests in the little moments, the stolen glances, and the accidental touches that don’t really seem to be as accidental as you may think. It’s in the way his eyes follow you when he thinks you’re not looking, how they intensify when you laugh, or how he seems to fixate on your hands as you work, as if he’s memorizing every movement. 

You’re not immune to it either. You find yourself hyper-aware of his presence, the way his proximity seems to alter the air around you. In one afternoon, you’re in the barn, and sorting through a pile of hay bales. It’s hard, sweaty work, but the it’s kind that leaves you with a satisfying ache in your muscles by the end of the day. Logan is beside you, lifting the heavy bales with ease, his shirt sticking to his back, outlining the broad expanse of his shoulders. You catch yourself staring, and quickly look away, but not before he flicks his eyes over to yours.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can see it in his eyes. It’s like they’re telling you that he knows exactly what you were thinking, where you were staring. 

And when you’re both tending to the horses, something happens again. You’re brushing one down, your fingers working through its mane, when Logan comes to stand beside you, so close that you can smell his natural musk. 

“Here, let me help,” he says lowly, not waiting for a response as he reaches out, his hand covering yours. You glance up at him, and he’s already looking down at you. You’re acutely aware of the feel of his hand over yours, the callousness of his skin against your own, and the way his thumb brushes lightly over your knuckles as if testing the waters.

Another time, while fixing the fence out in the field, you’re both working in tandem, passing tools back and forth. At one point, you reach for a hammer at the same time Logan does, and your fingers brush against his. It’s a fleeting touch, but it feels like a spark in the summer heat, and for a heartbeat, you both freeze, caught in that split second of contact.

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling your hand back, but the apology feels hollow in the face of what you’re actually feeling.

“No problem,” Logan replies, his voice gruffer than usual, as he hands you the tool. 

You can feel it. You’re not stupid. You know something is there, and you wonder how much longer you can resist it—how much longer you can pretend that everything is fine. But Logan is a hard man to read, and you’re not sure if what you’re feeling is reciprocated, or if it’s just wishful thinking on your part. So you stay silent, letting the tension simmer, hoping that one day, one of you will have the courage to break it.

—

You’re not the only who see’s it. 

“You know,” your grandmother says one afternoon, as you’re helping them with a puzzle. “Logan has really come out of his shell since you’ve been here.”

You blink, and glance over at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks up from the table, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. “Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” she says with a knowing smile. “He’s been here for over a year, and in all that time, we’ve never seen him quite like this. He’s always been polite, of course, but distant. Reserved. But now… well, it’s clear he’s become quite comfortable around you.”

Your grandfather places a piece in the board and nods in agreement. “She’s right, you know. Logan’s always been a bit of a mystery, keeps to himself mostly. But ever since you arrived, he’s been different. More… engaged, I suppose you could say.”

You feel a flush of heat rising to your cheeks, your heart skipping a beat at their words. “I-I don’t know about that,” you stammer, trying to brush it off. “We just… work together a lot. That’s all.”

Chuckling, your grandmother leans forward slightly. “Darling, don’t be modest. It’d be obvious to anyone that there’s something going on between the two of you. He’s practically a different man when he’s around you. Why, just the other day, I caught him actually smiling while you two were out riding. I nearly fainted!”

“You’ve managed to do in weeks what we couldn’t do in a year. Whatever it is, it’s good for him. And for you, too, I’d wager,” your grandfather pipes in, sending you a wink. 

Fidgeting with your hands, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, and you’re honestly not sure how to respond. “We’re… friends,” you say, though the words feel inadequate even as you say them. 

The woman across from you raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Hmm? Well, maybe so. But it seems to me that there’s potential for something more there, if you’re both willing to see it.”

“I… I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling flustered under their scrutiny. “He’s just… he’s a complicated person.”

“Everyone’s complicated, dear,” your grandfather says gently. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not worth the effort. Oftentimes, the best things in life are the ones that take the most time to understand.”

There’s a moment of silence as their words sink in, the weight of their observations leaving you feeling exposed and uncertain. You hadn’t fully allowed yourself to consider what you felt, let alone what Logan felt. But now, with your grandparents’ teasing remarks, it’s impossible to ignore the possibility that there might be something more between you and Logan than just a budding friendship.

Your grandmother reaches over and gives your hand a comforting squeeze. “Just take it one day at a time, sweetheart. Whatever happens, we’re here for you.”

—

The following week, you find yourself itching for something new—a change in scenery. While the farm has been everything you’ve wanted and more, you think it’d be nice to go on a drive, explore a small laketown you used to go to when you were younger. So, one morning, as you and Logan are unsaddling the horses, you muster the courage to extend an invitation that’s been on your mind for days.

“So…,” you begin, trying to keep your tone casual. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a break from the farm this weekend and go into town. You know, just to get out for a bit, see something different.”

He pauses in his work, his hand stilling on the brush as he peers over at you with a raised eyebrow. “The town?” he repeats, as if the idea is foreign to him.

“Yeah,” you say, turning to face him fully. “I need to pick up a few things, and I thought it might be nice to have some company. We could grab lunch, maybe do some exploring… It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just a change of pace.”

There’s a beat of silence as he considers your offer. His expression is guarded, as always, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. It’s clear that the idea of leaving the farm, even for a day, is something he hasn’t done in a long time—if ever.

“I don’t know,” he eventually gets out, his tone uncertain. “Busy places are not really my thing.”

You feel a pang of disappointment at his hesitation, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. “I get that,” you say. “But it’s not about how many people are there, really. It’s about taking a break. You’ve been working so hard, and I think you deserve a day to relax. Plus, I could use your help carrying a few things,” you tease, hoping to coax him into agreeing.

Logan’s lips twitch as if he’s suppressing a smile, and for a split second you think he’s going to turn you down. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Alright,” he says, the word coming out almost reluctantly. “I’ll go.”

You beam, unable to hide your enthusiasm. “We’ll leave early on Saturday, okay?”

“Saturday it is,” he confirms.

—

The rest of the week passes quickly, your anticipation for the trip into town growing with each passing day. You find yourself planning out the day in your head, imagining the places you might visit, the food you might try, and most of all, the chance to see Logan in a different environment—away from the farm and the routine that has defined your relationship so far.

So, when Saturday morning arrives, you’re up before the sun, too excited to sleep in. You dress in your favourite casual clothes—something comfortable but a bit more put-together than your usual farm attire—and head downstairs, where you find your grandparents surprisingly already up and about.

“Off to the city today, are you?” your grandmother asks with a smile as she hands you a thermos of coffee for the road.

“Yep,” you reply, unable to keep the grin off your face. “and I’m dragging Logan along with me.”

Your grandfather chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, that should be interesting. Don’t think he’s much of a city slicker.”

“Be patient with him, dear,” your grandmother adds, laughing. “He’s stepping out of his comfort zone for you.”

“I will,” you promise, taking the coffee and heading out the door.

Logan’s already waiting by the truck, and when you see him, you can’t help but falter in your steps. The shirt he’s wearing clings to his muscular frame in a way that draws your eyes, accentuating the strength that’s always been evident. His hair is slightly disheveled, and there’s an almost shy quality to the way he stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets as if he’s not quite sure what to do with them.

You try to hide the fact that you were just checking him out as you ask, “Ready?” 

“‘Course,” he replies, climbing into the passenger seat as you slide behind the wheel.

The highways are empty and the sky is clear. You chat easily about the things you need to pick up, the cute boutiques you want to visit, and even a few memories of the last time you visited the place. Logan listens more than he talks, but you can tell he’s starting to relax, the tightness in his shoulders easing as the distance passes by.

When you finally reach the town, the energy along the streets is a stark contrast to the quiet calm of the farm. The buildings tower above you, and the sidewalks are crowded with people going about their day. 

Stepping out of the truck, you glance over at Logan. It’s clear that he’s out of his element, but there’s something cute about the way he takes it all in. “Where to first?” He questions. 

“Well,” you say, smiling at him, “I was thinking we could grab some breakfast at this little café I know, then hit a few shops. There’s a bookstore I love that I think you’d like too.”

He nods, his expression softening slightly at the mention of a bookstore. “Lead the way.”

You spend the morning wandering around, exploring the shops, and enjoying a nice breakfast together. At the bookstore, you lose track of time, browsing through the shelves and picking out a few titles that catch your eye. Logan surprises you by finding a book on woodworking, something he’s always been interested in but never had much time for. You can see the way his eyes light up as he flips through the pages, and it makes you smile, happy to see him enjoying something for himself.

After spending a few more hours of exploring, you suggest one last stop before heading back—a lookout point that offers a stunning view of the lake and the surrounding landscape. Logan agrees, and you drive up to the spot, parking the truck and leading him to a bench that overlooks the water.

The view is breathtaking. You both sit in silence for a while, just taking in the scenery, allowing the peacefulness of the moment to wash over you. He is staring out into the water with a thoughtful expression when you decide to interrupt his stupor.

“Logan,” you begin, the gentle breeze from the lake rustling through the trees, “what did you think of me when we first met?”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting the question. Then he pauses for a moment, looking back out at the lake, as if gathering his thoughts.

“I thought you were different,” he says slowly, each word carefully chosen. “You didn’t act like you were above the work. You jumped right in, got your hands dirty. Most people wouldn’t do that.”

You smile at the memory, remembering how you started working together the moment you met. After all, you weren’t just a visitor—you were there to help, and you knew your way around the farm. “And now?” you ask, your heart beginning to beat just a little faster.

He remains quiet for a few moments, his focus still on the water. When he finally speaks, he’s timid, almost bashful, as if he’s revealing something he’s kept hidden for a long time. 

“I think you’re beautiful,” he admits, his eyes flickering back to yours. “I thought that the first time I saw you, too. It was one of the first things that hit me. But it’s more than that. Now… now I think you’re perfect.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your mouth parts in surprise, and all you can do is gawk, trying to process the depth of what he’s just said.

Logan shifts slightly, his gaze dropping to his hands as he continues. “I was… cold at first,” he murmurs, “Didn’t know how else to act. You weren’t like anyone I’d ever met. I didn’t know how to handle it. But what really got to me was how you didn’t shy away from that—you didn’t let my attitude push you away. That changed somethin’ in me.”

You want to say something—you should say something—to acknowledge what he just said, bearing in mind that was probably the most amount of words to come out of his mouth in one go, but for some reason, you can’t. The only thought running through your head is that you want to reach out and touch him, to close the small distance between you.

“What about you?” His voice is slightly more tentative now, and he definitely just asked that to fill the silence that you were ungraciously leaving. “What was your first impression of me?”

His question snaps you out of your thoughts, and you gulp, now knowing that your first impression of him was very different to his of you. 

“Honestly? I thought you were rude as hell,” you say a bit nervously, watching as his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. “You were so gruff, so serious… I didn’t know what to make of you at first. But then I saw the way you took care of the horses, the way you looked after the farm, and… it didn’t take long for my opinion to change.”

He shifts, clearly caught off guard. You can see the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck as he takes in what you said, and it makes your smile widen. 

“And…You’re kind,” you continue. “There’s this gentleness about you that I wasn’t expecting.” You suck in a shaky breath. “I think you’re pretty perfect now too, if I’m being honest.”

The tint on his cheeks only deepens, and he looks away, flustered. It’s a rare sight—seeing him like this—and it makes you swoon. 

“I don’t know about that…” He mutters, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“I do,” you reply firmly. “You’re more than you think you are, Logan.”

The genuineness in your words makes him look back at you, his eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, maybe, or confirmation that what you’re saying is real. Slowly, almost unconsciously, you both lean in closer, locked in a stare, your breaths mingling as the space between you shrinks. You can see the way his eyes flicker down to your lips, and you feel the same pull, the undeniable urge to close the distance and see what it would feel like to kiss him overriding all your senses.

Your chest pounds as you inch closer, until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. But just as your lips are about to meet, a loud, piercing scream shatters the moment.

You both jerk back, startled, and whip your heads around to see a kid nearby, his face scrunched up in disgust as he frantically wipes at his shoulder. “Ew! A seagull just pooped on me!”

The kid’s parents rush over, trying to console him as they pull out napkins, and you can’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of the interruption. The sound of your laughter is contagious, and soon Logan is chuckling a bit too.

“Well, that’s one way to kill the mood,” he mumbles under is breath.

You’re still laughing, the remnants of your almost-kiss still in the back of your mind, but you know the moment has passed. “Yeah,” you agree, trying to catch your breath. “Guess we should be thankful it wasn’t us.”

Logan grins, warm and wide. “Yeah, maybe we should.”

—

Driving back to the farm, neither of you say a word about what almost transpired at the lookout point, and you’re fine with that. There’s no need to fill the silence with words, no need to dissect the moment or what it could have led to. You don’t want there to be any sort of pressure between you, any expectations. Even if, deep down, all you want is to climb him like a tree, to feel the solid strength of him beneath your hands, and to finally give in to the attraction that’s been building throughout your time together. 

Pulling into the driveway and shutting of the engine, you turn to him, and turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. “Thanks for today,” he says sincerely “I… enjoyed it.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “Me too,” you reply, your voice just as soft. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Logan agrees, his gaze holding yours a hint longer before he turns away, his hand reaching for the door handle. “We should.”

—

A few days later, as everyone sits around the kitchen table after dinner, the evening suddenly takes on a new tone when your grandmother clears her throat and shoots an exchanges a conspiratorial glance at your grandfather.

“We’ve got some news,” she begins, her eyes shining with excitement. “Your grandfather and I have been invited to spend a week at the Summers’ cottage by the lake.”

You smile, genuinely happy for them. The Summers are longtime friends of your grandparents, and the idea of them getting a little vacation away sounds perfect. “That sounds wonderful! You two deserve some time to relax.”

“Well, we thought so too,” your grandfather says. “But that means we’ll be leaving the farm in your capable hands.”

It takes a moment for the full meaning of his words to sink in. You and Logan… alone… for an entire week.

Your heart skips a beat and you glimpse over at Logan, who’s sitting across the table from you, his expression neutral as he listens to your grandparents. But there’s a quick flash of something that suggests he’s as aware of the situation as you are.

A voice brings you back to the moment. “Now, don’t worry,” she says with a reassuring smile. “There’s not much that needs doing, just the usual stuff. And we’ll be back before you know it.”

Your grandfather leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he scans between you and Logan. “We trust you both to keep everything running smoothly,” he says, before he drops his voice to an embarrassingly low tone. “And to keep an eye on each other.”

You can’t help but blush at his not-so-subtle innuendo, and you quickly drop your gaze to your hands, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your cheeks. The thought of spending an entire week alone with Logan is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. The lack of a buffer—your grandparents—means that literally anything could happen. 

“Don’t worry,” you finally manage to say. “We’ve got this. You two just enjoy your time away.”

Logan, who has been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation, finally speaks up. “Yeah,” he agrees, “We’ll take care of everything.”

—

Over the next couple of days, your grandparents pack their bags and make sure everything is in order before they leave. You help them with the small details, ensuring that the house is stocked with food and that all the usual chores are delegated properly.

Finally, the morning of their departure arrives. You stand by the front door, watching as your grandparents load their bags into the car. Your grandmother gives you a warm hug, “Take care, dear,” she says, kissing your cheek before hopping into the passenger’s seat. 

Your grandfather shakes Logan’s hand, giving him a firm nod. “Take care of things.”

He hums. “I will. Enjoy yourselves.”

With that, your grandparents climb into the car, and after a final wave, they drive down the long, dusty road that leads away from the farm. 

There’s a pause. 

Suddenly, you’ve become extremely aware of how close you two are standing. 

“So,” you start, hoping to ease a bit of the electricity beginning to spark. “I guess it’s just us now.”

Logan swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing up and down. “Yeah,” he replies a bit deeper than usual. “Just us.”

“What should we do first?” you ask as casually as possible. 

He shrugs slightly, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. “Same old, I guess. Can’t let everythin’ fall apart right when they leave..”

“True. Let’s start with that.”

The two of you move into that familiar routine of farm work. Mucking out the stalls, hauling bags of feed from the shed to the barn, tending to the vegetable garden, you do it all. But even though you’re busy with work, there’s an underlying jitter to everything you do, a heightened awareness of each other’s presence that just wasn’t there before. And it’s impossible to ignore. Each time you make eyecontact it feels charged, almost like a promise of what’s to come, and it has your heart racing with exhilaration. 

That evening, after the chores are done and the sun has dropped below the horizon, you’re in the kitchen, preparing dinner while Logan finishes up outside. The quiet of the farmhouse feels different without your grandparents there—emptier, yet somehow more intimate. Domestic. You can hear the soft creak of the floorboards as he enters the house, the sound of him washing up in the sink.

And as the evening wears on, you find yourself drawing out cleaning the dishes, not wanting to end the day just yet. Logan stays close, drying the plates and placing them back in the cupboards.

“Long day,” he grunts.

“Yeah,” you agree, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “But it was nice. Peaceful.”

His eyes find yours. “Peaceful,” he echoes, though the word seems to hold a different meaning when he says it.

You both stay there, unmoving, until eventually, he takes a step back, as if sensing that the tension between you needs a moment to cool. “I’ll check on the barn,” he says gruffly. “Make sure everything’s locked up for the night.”

“Okay,” you reply, your voice softer than you intended.

Logan leaves to check on the barn, while he’s gone, your thoughts are a whirlwind of anticipation and nervous energy as you busy yourself with finishing up the remaining utensils. 

Finally, unable to stay inside any longer, you decide to step outside, hoping the cool evening air will help clear your mind. You sink down onto the old porch swing, and pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you observe the darkened landscape.

A few minutes later, you hear the soft crunch of gravel underfoot, and you glance over your shoulder to see Logan approaching the porch. He walks up the steps and pauses momentarily as if debating whether to join you. Then, with a soft sigh, he settles down beside you, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours.

It’s now or never, you think.  “We have the place to ourselves now,” you state. 

He turns his head slightly, giving you a sidelong look, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small, knowing smirk. “Indeed we do,” he replies.

The simple acknowledgment—and the way he says it—makes your pulse quicken, and you can’t help the small huff of exasperation that escapes your lips. He’s always been so tame, so careful with his words, and while you appreciate the way he’s respected your space, you’re done with tiptoeing around.

“Do I need to spell it out for you, or—” But before you can finish the sentence, Logan moves. 

His hand reaches out, rough and warm, to cup the back of your head. Your eyes widen, and your heart thuds in your chest upon realizing what’s about to happen. And with a firm but gentle pull, he closes the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours.

You lose track of your surroundings—the night, the farm, everything—as you give yourself into feel of his lips against yours. It’s intense and claiming, a declaration of everything you’ve both been too afraid to say.

His hand tangles in your hair, holding you close as he deepens the kiss, his other hand coming to rest on your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if to ground yourself in the moment, to make sure this is real, that he’s really here, kissing you.

Moving your lips against his with equal fervor, you pour the longing you’ve been feeling all this time into it. The taste of him is intoxicating. It’s something that’s so uniquely him—so uniquely Logan—and you can’t get enough. You’ve imagined this moment in the dead of night, but nothing compares to the reality of it—to the way he kisses you like you’re the only thing that matters.

When you finally pull back, out of breath and a little dazed, Logan’s forehead rests against yours, his breath coming in heavy, uneven pants. His eyes are smoldering and intense and his smirk is gone, replaced by a deep look of yearning.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits huskily. The way his voice has dropped three octaves isn’t missed on you. You can practically feel it vibrate down in your pu—

“You’re not the only one,” You whisper, interrupting your own thoughts. The connection between you has finally been acknowledged, and you feel a huge sense of relief.

He exhales a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and his hand slips from the back of your head to cup your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

You lean in, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his mouth.

The spark that has been ignited between you flares up into a full blown fire, and the next kiss quickly becomes more heated. Without breaking it, Logan’s grip on your waist tightens and you let out a soft gasp as he effortlessly lifts you onto his lap. Your legs straddle his hips, and you can feel the beginning of something growing underneath you. 

The sensation is dizzying, and you instinctively press yourself closer, your fingers curling into his hair. The swing beneath you creaks softly with the movement, but neither of you pays it any mind, too lost in each other to care.

You shift slightly on his lap, grinding your hips against him, and the movement draws a deep, throaty groan from him. He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, “God, you drive me crazy,” and then he’s on you again. 

It’s wild. Hot, and heavy, and utterly consuming. His hands move from your hips to grip your ass, guiding you to move against him. It feels so good, you release a relieved sigh into his mouth, before dropping your head onto his shoulder, too caught up in the pleasure. 

The sounds of your moans fill the air as he continues grinding you against him, his own hips bucking up into your core. 

Biting your lip, you lift your head slightly, a teasing smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as your eyes dart toward the open door of the farmhouse. “You know,” you begin tilting forward to bite his ear, your voice low and playful, “as much as I’m enjoying being out here, I think we should take this inside.”

Logan’s lips quirk up into a sexy smirk. “As you wish,” he murmurs.

As you stand up, your legs a little shaky from what just occured, you peek back at him, and see that he’s already risen to his feet. Stepping closer, you slip your hand into his as you guide him toward the door. But just as you reach the threshold, a thought crosses your mind, and you pause, turning to look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“We gotta go to your room,” you say, running your hands up and down his arms, feeling them flex underneath your touch.“I don’t think I’m ready to defile my childhood bedroom just yet.”

He raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face as he catches on to what you’re implying. “Oh, is that so?” he asks, his tone filled with mock seriousness. You wink in return. grabbing one of his hands and dragging him inside. 

By the time you reach his door, you’re practically vibrating with excitement, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. The room is simple, and the bed, neatly made, sits in the center of the room. You can’t help but laugh at the thought of how different it will look in just a few moments.

You turn to face Logan, but he doesn’t give you time to say anything, his hand reaching out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch that is both tender and possessive. His thumb traces the line of your jaw as he cups your face, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

But there’s none. You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. The need for him, for this, is so overwhelming that it’s taking every ounce of strength in you to keep from throwing yourself onto him. 

His lips find yours once more, this time more urgent, more demanding than before. He pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours. “Are you sure about this?” he asks in between kisses.

“Absolutely,” you mumble breathlessly, your hands sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. The word barely leaves your lips before Logan reacts, a low hum rumbling in his chest as if your answer has unleashed something primal within him.

He kicks the door shut behind him with a force that makes the room tremble slightly, and in the same fluid motion, he pins you against the wall, lips never leaving yours as his body cages you in.

One of his thighs nudges its way between yours, the rough fabric of his jeans brushing against the sensitive spot between your legs. The friction is maddening, electric, and it hits just right, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine that rips a moan from your throat.

The sound only spurs Logan on, his own need evident in the way he moves against you. He moves his mouth to your neck, trailing up and down it with hungrily. The feel of his mouth on your skin, the way his teeth graze your pulse point, causes you to arch against him, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as he presses his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, as his hands explore your body. They’re everywhere—one gripping your hip, holding you steady against the wall, the other sliding up your side to brush against the curve of your breast. His fingers find the hem of your shirt, tugging it up, and you lift your arms to help him, the fabric sliding up and over your head before it’s tossed carelessly to the floor.

Bringing his lips back to yours, the kiss is fiery, stealing all the oxygen from your lungs as he pushes you even harder into against the wall, his thigh still working its magic. You can’t help the way your hips rock against him, the need for more—more pressure, more friction, more him.

Logan seems to sense your desperation, moaning when his hand slips down from your breast to the waistband of your jeans. He fumbles with the button for only a moment before he gets it open, his fingers slipping inside to brush against the soft skin of your lower belly. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze tempting and filled with a desire that matches your own. 

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he mutters, voice thick with want. “No idea why I waited so long.”

You can barely think, let alone form words, but you manage to breathe out, “Don’t need to wait any longer.”

The words seem to be all the encouragement he needs. In one swift motion, he slides your pants and underwear down your legs, his hands careful as he helps you step out of them. You’re left standing before him, bare and vulnerable, but the way he’s staring at you—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—makes you feel powerful, desired in a way you’ve never felt before.

He pulls you back into him, and this time, you can feel the hardness of his own desire against yours—bare— and it drives you insane. His grip finds you thighs as he lifts you off the ground and carries you the short distance to the bed. He lays you down gently on his bed, and breaks away long enough to strip off his own clothes. The sight of him—strong, muscular, yours—makes your breath catch in your throat. 

There’s a moment where he’s standing above you, just staring, his chest rising and falling with the effort to control himself. But then he’s on you again in an instant, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his lips claiming yours and leaving you dizzy.

You lean up into him, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin as he moves against you. The need for more builds up to a breaking point, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he grinds into you, hard and insistent against your core.

“Logan,” you breathe out. “Please.”

His name on your lips seems to break the last of his control, a desperate groan ripping out of him. He begins travelling down your body, taking his time, his lips tracing a slow, deliberate path, each kiss leaving a burning trail in its wake. His hands follow the curve of your waist, your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. Your body is practically begging for him, and you know that you’re on the verge of begging too.

Once he makes it down to your thighs, he nudges them apart, giving him better access to you. He nips and bites at them, moaning along with you. And then, with a deep, almost possessive growl, he finally lowers his mouth to you, his tongue flicking out to taste you. You react immediately, a wave of pleasure coming over you, your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the strands as you try to pull him closer.

Logan’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs as he delves deeper. You’re lost in the sensations, the pleasure growing and growing until it’s all you can think about, all you can feel. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire, and the only thing that matters is the way he is making you feel, the way he’s driving you toward a release that you know will be earth-shattering.

And then, just as you think you can’t take any more, he pulls back slightly, his lips still hovering over you as he looks up at you, eyes black. “Tell me what you want,” he commands.

You can barely think, let alone form coherent words, but you manage to breathe out, “You. I want–I need you.”

That seems to be wanted he wanted to hear, so with a final kiss to your inner thigh, he moves back up your body, connecting his lips to yours again. You can taste yourself on his tongue as his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you slightly to position himself at your entrance.

The anticipation is almost too much, the need for him so immense that you can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips as begins to push, the tip of him just barely inside you, teasing, testing your patience.

“Oh god,” you moan. “I need you. Please.”

And then, finally, Logan gives you what you’ve been wanting since that time at the pond. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside you, filling you up completely. 

Everything seems to stop for a moment, the only sound the ragged gasps of breath between you, the only feeling the overwhelming pleasure of being joined together like this, of finally having what you’ve both wanted for so long.

He pauses, lowering his head in the crook of your neck as he lets you adjust to the feeling, his breath hot and heavy against your collarbone. And then he begins to move, slow and steady at first, each thrust driving you closer to the edge, the coil inside you tightening with every stroke. The feel of him inside you, the way he moves against you, is everything you’ve been dreaming of and more, and you can’t help the way your body responds to him, your hips lifting to meet his every movement.

The gentle, deliberate pace soon gives way to something more urgent, more desperate, as the need for release takes over. Each thrust drives you higher, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level, until teetering on the edge.

And then, he sends you over it. The orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your entire body shuddering with the intensity of it, your voice lost in the cry of pure ecstasy that escapes your lips. Logan follows you a moment later, his own release crashing into him hard, his body trembling against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as a loud, deep, groan reverberates in his throat. 

Neither of you can move, lost in the aftermath of your shared pleasure, your bodies still entwined, as you come down from the high. He tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your temple as he tries to catch his breath. And when he does, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes.

“You okay?” he murmurs. 

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs gently brushing over the rough stubble on his cheeks. “I’m more than okay,” you whisper back, voice full of emotion. “That was… everything.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Logan’s lips, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yeah, it was,” he agrees.

Eventually, he eases out of you with a tenderness that makes you sigh softly. He walks out into the washroom, and gets a warm towel, wiping you and himself down. After, he settles beside you on the bed, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. The two of you stay like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, until the exhaustion of the day begins to catch up with you, and you feel your eyes growing heavy.

“Get some rest,” you hear, “We’ve got plenty of time… no need to rush.”

You nod sleepily, snuggling closer to him as you let your eyes drift shut, the steady pulse of his heart lulling you into a peaceful sleep. 

—

You wake to the feeling of warmth and security, Logan’s breathing against your ear, his arm still clinging possessively over your waist. The events of the previous night come rushing back, and a satisfied smile curves your lips as you snuggle closer to him.

But it isn’t long before that peaceful contentment becomes something more. As you move around, the feel of his skin against yours, the warmth of his breath on your neck, and the memory of the passion ignites a familiar heat low in your belly

He stirs beside you, his hand tightening around your waist as if sensing your thoughts. Pulling you closer, his nose nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin there. 

His voice is rough with sleep as he murmurs against your skin, “Morning…”

The simple word, spoken in that deep, gravelly tone, is enough to make you ache for him all over again. You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze, and the look in his eyes—dark and hungry—tells you that he feels the same way. 

The morning starts in the best way possible, the both of you breathless, spent, and with the knowledge that this isn’t a one-time thing. The connection between you is too strong, too consuming to be satisfied with just one night or even one morning. And as the day stretches out before you, the realization hits that this hunger, this need, will follow you both everywhere you go.

Throughout the week, the two of you are completely insatiable for each other. It’s like the floodgates have opened and have no intention of closing. Every moment you’re together becomes an opportunity. 

It starts innocently enough—just a kiss in the barn when you’re supposed to be checking on the horses. But that kiss quickly spirals and before you know it, Logan has you pressed up against the wooden wall, his lips on your neck, his hands roaming your body. The scent of hay and leather mixes with the heady scent of him as he takes you right there, the barn filled with the sound of your moans and the creak of the old wooden beams.

Or when you’re in the back shed, ostensibly looking for some tools to finish up some chores, the moment the door closes behind you, and you both know there’s no point in pretending. Logan’s hands are on you before you can even say a word, lifting you onto the workbench with ease as he claims your lips in a searing kiss. 

At the pond too, the tranquil, secluded spot now holds an entirely different kind of allure to what it had before. One afternoon, you find yourselves there again, the cool water calling your name. But as you strip down to swim, the sight of him watching you is enough to make it seem less inviting than the feel of his hands on your skin. You pull him in with you, the rippling water doing nothing to muffle the sounds of your shared pleasure.

By the end of the week, you’re exhausted but in the best possible way, your body and soul both filled with the kind of satisfaction that comes from truly giving in to what you want, to who you are together. And as the sun sets on the final day of your week alone together, you find yourselves back in Logan’s room, the place where it all began. 

The bed, once neat and tidy, is now a tangle of sheets and pillows, the evidence of your shared moments of bliss scattered around the room. Logan lies beside you, his hand gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“This week… it’s been more than I ever expected,” he admits quietly, his fingers brushing gently over your skin. “I don’t want it to end.”

You lift your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and you can see the same emotion reflected there—the same desire to hold on to what you’ve found together. “It doesn’t have to,” you reply. “We don’t have to go back to the way things were before.”

Logan’s hand tightens around yours, a small, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips. “No, we don’t,” he concurs. 

—

The morning your grandparents arrive, you and Logan are in the kitchen, finishing up lunch. Your grandmother is the first to step through the door, her face lighting up as she sees the two of you. “We’re back!” she announces, her voice cheerful as she sets her bag down by the door.

You rise to greet her, giving her a warm hug. “How was the trip?”

“Oh, it was lovely,” she replies, her eyes twinkling as she pulls back to look at you. “The cottage was just as beautiful as ever. And the Summers send their love.”

Your grandfather enters next, a gleeful smile on his face as he takes in the sight of you and Logan in the kitchen, together. “Everything go smoothly while we were gone?” he asks.

You blush. “Yes, everything was fine.”

Then they do that thing they’ve been doing the whole time you’ve been with them, where they exchange a glance—and share a look that speaks volumes. It’s the kind of look that only comes from years of understanding each other without words, and you can tell they knew exactly what they were doing when they left you and Logan alone for the week. 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” your grandmother says with a mischievous smile, her eyes flicking between you two in a way that makes you wonder just how much they’ve guessed.

“Seems like you two managed just fine without us.” Your grandfather says, patting Logan on the shoulder. 

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you steal a look at Logan, who meets your eyes with a small smirk. It’s a way to tell you that he’s just as aware as you are of what your grandparents are thinking. But there’s no embarrassment on his face, only a quiet confidence, a certainty that whatever happened between you was exactly what was meant to be.

—

The next month flies by, the routine of everything staying largely the same except for one thing. You and Logan are inseparable, drawn to each other like magnets, and with each passing day, it seems like that attraction only grows stronger. 

It’s not just the passion that binds you, though that spark is always there, and most often times doesn’t go ignored. It’s the little moments that fill your days—the way his hand brushes yours as you walk side by side, the way he rests a gentle hand on the small of your back when you’re working together in the barn, or the way his fingers grip your waist as he helps you mount your horse (even though you don’t need it). 

The work on the farm continues to get done, but there’s a new layer to everything you do—a sense of shared purpose, of partnership. And even though the days are long and tiring, you find yourself looking forward to each task, knowing that Logan will be there beside you, sharing the load, offering his quiet support and his easy, comforting presence.

As the sun begins to rise one breakfast, you grandfather announces that he needs to run into town to pick up some tools for a repair project. He’s heading out the door, and as he grabs his keys from the hook, he turns to Logan with a nod.

“Logan, why don’t you come along? Could use an extra pair of hands,” he suggests, his tone casual.

Your man agrees without hesitation, always ready to lend a hand. But as he follows your grandfather out the door, he pauses for just a moment, whirling back to look at you, and what you see on his face is insane—there’s a deep yearning, a longing that tugs on your heartstrings. It’s almost as if to say that he wishes he could stay, he doesn’t want to be apart from you, even for the short trip into town. 

You have half a mind to join them. 

The intensity of that look lingers in the air long after he’s turned away and stepped out the door, and your grandmother doesn’t miss a thing. Once the men are in the truck and begin to drive off the property, she turns to you with a teasing smile, one eyebrow raised in amusment. 

“He’s really got it bad for you, doesn’t he?” she says affectionately. “I’ve never seen a man look at a woman the way he looks at you.”

Your heart blooms in your chest. “I guess he does,” you reply, your voice soft,  breathless as the weight of your feelings for him wash over you. 

Your grandmother chuckles, stepping closer to place her hand on your arm “And you’ve got it bad for him too, I’d say.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

—

Several weeks later, it’s raining. That should have been the first sign that this day wasn’t going to go to plan. You’re sitting inside, curled up next to Logan on the old chesterfield, his arm wrapped around you as you both enjoy the warmth and quiet of the afternoon. 

But then you decide to go through some emails—just a quick check, nothing more, to clear out any lingering notifications. You unlock your phone and start scrolling through your inbox, Logan’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder as you do. Most of the emails are routine—newsletters, updates, the usual clutter—but then you see it, nestled among the others like a tiny, unexpected bombshell.

It’s an email from the company you applied to months ago, the one you almost forgot about in the blissful haze of farm life. The subject line makes your heart skip a beat: Congratulations! Offer of Employment.

Your breath catches, and you sit up a little straighter, your heart pounding in your chest as you open the email. The words leap off the screen: We are pleased to offer you the position, starting in two months.

You stare at the email, a mixture of shock and elation washing over you. This is it—your dream job, the opportunity you’ve been working toward for years. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, the kind of position that could set the course for your entire career. But as the initial wave of excitement begins to ebb, a heavy weight settles in your chest, pulling you back down to earth.

You glance over at Logan, who’s still relaxed beside you. His eyes are closed, his head resting back against the couch. The sight of him, so content, makes your heart ache, because with this job offer comes a harsh reality: accepting it means leaving him, leaving this life you’ve built together, at least for a while. And you don’t know when—or even if—you’ll be back.

Suddenly, his eyes flutter open in response to your shifting, and he looks over at you, concern flickering across his features. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I… I just got an email,” you begin shakily as you turn the screen toward him so he can read it for himself.

He takes the phone from your hand, his eyes scanning the email. You watch his expression carefully, searching for any sign of what he’s feeling. At first, there’s no reaction, just the steady, focused way he reads the words. Yet as he reaches the end, you see it—the subtle tightening of his jaw, the pinching together of his eyebrows. 

He hands the phone back to you wordlessly.

Then, “This is what you’ve been waiting for.” His voice is steady, but there’s a sadness there too, a heaviness that you can’t ignore.

You nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah… it is.”

There’s a long stretch of nothing, the sound of the rain outside filling the silence between you. Logan looks away, his gaze fixed on the fire as if trying to find the right words. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, measured. “You have to take it.”

You swallow hard. “But what about us? I don’t know when I’ll be back… or if I’ll even be able to come back.”

Logan’s hand tightens around yours, his grip firm, grounding. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, though you can hear the strain in his voice, the way he’s trying to hold back his own emotions for your sake. “You’ve worked too hard for this to pass it up.”

His words are supportive, encouraging, but you can see the the way he’s starting to close in on himself, as if already bracing himself for your departure. The thought of being apart from him is unbearable.

You lean into his touch, your head resting on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “I don’t want to leave you,” you whisper as the tears finally spill over.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as if trying to convey all the things he can’t bring himself to say. “I don’t want you to leave either,” he admits. “But I’ll be here when you get back. However long it takes.”

And so begins the countdown to your departure. You always knew it was going to come, always knew you were going to have to leave your grandparents again, but you didn’t expect to find the love of your life here, and that makes it so much harder.

—

The remaining two months become a bittersweet blend of cherished moments and a looming sense of inevitability. Each day feels both precious and fleeting, a constant reminder that your time together is running out, and it shapes every decision, every action, every word between you. 

In the past, your days had been filled with the rhythm of farm life—early mornings, long hours of work, and evenings spent in each other’s arms, exhausted but content. But now, there’s a conscious effort to carve out time just for you two, time that’s not dictated by chores or routine. You start taking more trips to the pond or into town, something you hadn’t quite as often before. 

These dates are different from the intense, passionate moments you’ve shared on the farm—they’re softer, more tender, as if you’re both trying to imprint each other’s presence into your memories. You hold hands as you walk on the streets, your fingers intertwined, and every now and then, Logan will pull you close, pressing a kiss to your temple or your lips, as if he needs to reassure himself that you’re still there with him.

Even the way you make love changes during these months. The hunger and desire that had once defined your physical relationship are still there, of course—Logan’s touch still ignites a fire in you, and the need for each other still burns as hot as ever—but now, there’s a new dimension to your intimacy, a slow, sensual depth that hadn’t been there before. 

Your grandparents, upon hearing the news, immediately noticed the change too. While they were so extremely happy for your new job opportunity, they also knew what it meant. They’ve seen the way you and Logan have grown closer, the way your connection has deepened, and there’s a quiet sadness in their eyes whenever they see you together. 

It’s not a sadness for themselves, but for the both of you. 

They don’t say much, but their understanding is palpable. They seem to give you more grace when it comes to doing work around the farm, trying to volunteer and do as much as they can so you two can spend time alone. No matter how much you refuse, they insist, pushing you two out the door with picnic basket and blankets. 

Sitting on the porch one evening after a long day, your grandmother comes out to join you. She sits beside you, Logan’s arm is draped around your shoulders, and for a brief second, the three of you just sit in silence, watching the sunset.

“You know,” your grandmother begins, her voice soft and filled with emotion, “I see the way you two look at each other. It reminds me of your grandfather and me when we were young.”

You smile, leaning into Logan’s side as you listen to her. “You two have always been such an inspiration,” you say, meaning every word.

She chuckles, a wistful sound. “It wasn’t always easy, you know. There were times when we had to be apart, times when I wasn’t sure if we’d make it through. But we did. And looking at you two now… I know you’ll find a way.”

Logan squeezes your shoulder gently.. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, echoing the promise he made when you first told him about the job.

Your grandmother nods, reaching out to pat your knee. “I believe you will. But just know… it’s okay to be sad, to be scared. That’s part of loving someone.”

The words resonate with you, and you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

She smiles, a small, sad smile that holds a lifetime of wisdom. “You’ll be alright, my dear. Both of you.”

The days continue to slip by, and as the final weeks approach, your chest constantly feels tight. You try to make yourself feel better by lying in each other’s arms at night, whispering about the future, about the dreams you have, and the plans you’ll make when you’re together again. But still, it’s sad. 

—

Your last day creeps up on you like a shadow at dusk—inevitable, inescapable, and suddenly there, looming over everything. You wake up with a rock on your heart, the realization that this is it—your final day on the farm, your last full day with Logan before everything changes.

He is still asleep beside you, holding you close, his face peaceful in the early morning quiet. For a moment, you just watch him, memorizing the lines of his face, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the way his hair falls across his forehead. You want to remember everything, to carry this image of him with you when you leave.

With a soft sigh, you carefully slip out of his embrace, trying not to wake him. You pad quietly to the window, staring out at the familiar landscape that has become so dear to you. The fields, the barn, the trees swaying gently in the breeze—it’s all so beautiful, so full of memories.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the wetness on your cheeks, and you quickly wipe the tears away, not wanting to start the day with sadness. But as you turn back to the bed, you see that Logan is awake, his eyes open and watching you. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes says it all—he knows what today means, and he feels it just as deeply as you do.

Wordlessly, you crawl back into bed, curling up against him, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

“Morning,” he murmurs.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your voice trembling slightly as you press your face into his chest, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall..

You just lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the day pressing down on you both. Eventually, Logan pulls back slightly, his hand cupping your face as he looks into your eyes. “Let’s go to the pond,” he says delicately. “Just you and me.”

You nod, unable to find the words to respond. The pond has always been your special place, a sanctuary where you’ve shared so many intimate moments, where it feels like it all began, and so it’s only right that would spend your last day there, away from everything else, just the two of you.

You decide to walk to the pond. Logan’s hand is warm and solid in yours, and you hold on to it tightly, physically unable to tear yourself from his touch. And when you reach it, a fresh wave of emotion crashes over you. 

You and Logan stand at the water’s edge, just staring out into the pond. Then, you turn to him, your eyes filled with tears, and without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close.

The kiss that follows is desperate, full of the need to feel connected, to hold on to each other for as long as you can. It’s not like the slow, sensual lovemaking of the past weeks—this is something desperate. Stumbling back toward the soft grass by the water’s edge, Logan gently lays you down, his hands trembling slightly as he undresses you, tears stinging behind his eyelids. As he moves over you, his body pressing against yours, there’s only this moment. 

With his skin against yours, his breath on your neck, your bodies move together. Tears spill from your eyes as you hold him tight, your hands unable to stay still, running over every part of him you can touch, needing to feel him, to anchor yourself. His lips find yours again, and the kiss is deep, full of all the love, all the emotion that neither of you can put into words. 

It’s a kiss that says goodbye, that says I love you, that says I’ll wait for you.

After reaching the peak of pleasure, you cling to each other, the tears flowing freely now, a mix of sorrow and love and everything in between.

Logan holds you close, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged, his eyes wet with tears. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too,” you choke out. “More than anything.”

—

Driving away from the farm was probably the hardest thing you've ever had to do in your entire life. Harder than moving away for university, harder than securing your first full-time job, harder than living alone in a city where you knew no one. This was different—this was leaving behind a piece of your heart, a part of your soul that you knew would never be whole until you returned.

Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles white as you try to focus on the road ahead, but it’s impossible to shake the image that’s burned into your mind—the image of Logan and your grandparents standing on the porch as you drove away. The sight of them, standing there side by side, watching you leave, is something that will haunt you for a long time. 

Logan, his stoic expression barely masking the pain in his eyes, his hands clenched at his sides as if holding himself back from running after you. Your grandmother, her face a mixture of sadness and pride, eyes glistening with unshed tears. And your grandfather, standing tall and strong, but with a heaviness in his gaze that spoke of understanding, of experience, of knowing just how hard this had to be.

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally break free, streaming down your face as you drive, blurring your vision and making it hard to see the road ahead. You swipe at them angrily, frustrated with yourself for breaking down like this, but it’s no use. The emotions are too strong, too overwhelming, and soon you’re bawling your eyes out, the sound of your own crying filling the car. 

You can barely catch your breath, each sob wracking your body with a force that leaves you feeling drained, exhausted, and utterly broken.

—

The time apart is worse than you ever imagined it would be. In the beginning, you and Logan make every effort to stay in touch. The calls and texts are your lifeline, little threads that keep you connected to the farm, to him, to the life you left behind. 

At first, you talk every day. his voice a comfort, a reminder that you’re not alone, that he’s still there, waiting for you. He tells you about his days, about how he still rides the horses every morning, just like he used to when you were there. 

But as time goes on, the time between each call grows. Your demanding work schedule, and the unreliable service in the countryside, make it harder and harder to find moments when you’re both free to talk. The texts, once long and filled with details about your lives, become shorter, more practical. You try to stay connected, but the distance feels like a growing chasm between you, one that neither of you can quite figure out how to bridge.

Years pass by in a blur. You have no time to spend at the farm, with it being too far away for just a weekend trip, and other commitments seem to always get in the way. 

Then, one day, the call comes—the call you’ve dreaded but somehow always knew would happen. It’s your grandmother, her voice trembling as she tells you that your grandfather has passed away. 

You take leave from work immediately, making arrangements to drive back to the farm and spend a night. The funeral is simple, attended by a few close friends and neighbours, but the absence of your grandfather is felt deeply by everyone.

And he’s there too—Logan. He’s standing off to the side, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his face etched with grief. When your eyes meet, it’s as if no time has passed at all. You walk over to him, and without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid to let go. 

The few years apart, the pain of the distance, all of it melts away in that embrace. You bury your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him that you’ve missed so much, and the tears you thought you had run out of begin to fall. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, everything hitting you at once—the loss of your grandfather, the years you’ve spent apart, the life you could have had together.

He hugs you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I miss you,” he murmurs thickly. “Every damn day, I miss you.”

You spend the rest of the day together, holding each other, talking, catching up, and remembering your grandfather. Logan tells you about the farm, about how he’s kept things going, but you can hear the weariness in his voice, the toll that time and loneliness have taken on him. It’s clear that the farm hasn’t been the same without you, just as your life hasn’t been the same without him.

Later that evening, after the guests have left and the house has grown quiet, your grandmother pulls you aside. Her eyes are tired, full of sorrow, but there’s a calm acceptance in her expression. “I’ve made a decision,” she says softly, her voice steady. “I’m going to sell the farm.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but before you can protest, she continues. “Not to just anyone,” she adds quickly. “To Logan. He’s been more than just a farmhand, you know that. This place is as much his as it was ours. But… I need to move into permanent care. I can’t manage on my own anymore.”

You nod, understanding but feeling a deep sadness all the same. The farm has been a part of your life for so long, and the thought of it changing hands, even to Logan, feels like another loss. But there’s also a sense of relief, knowing that it will be in good hands, that it will stay in the family, in a way.

That night, you’re tangled in Logan’s arms. Leaving him the next morning is just as hard the second time as it was the first.

—

Five years since that fateful summer have passed, and in that time, your life changes in ways you never expected. You’ve built a successful career, made some amazing friends, travelled the world, but the hustle and bustle of city life has taken its toll. The stress, the strain, the dissatisfaction—it begins to weigh on you more and more. 

You make a decision.

You quit your job, find something remote, something that allows you to work from anywhere, as long as you can drive into the city every few weeks to drop off documents. It’s a drastic change, but it’s one you need. You realize that the life you want, the life you’ve been yearning for, isn’t in the city. 

It’s back at the farm.

And as you step out of your car, you see him. He’s by the paddock, feeding the horses apples, just like he used to. His back is to you at first, but then he turns, and his eyes meet yours, and time stops. 

There’s a lifetime of emotions in that look—love, longing, hope. Most of all, there’s recognition, as if both of you know that this is it, that this is the moment you’ve been waiting for all these years.

So, when you’re finally standing in front of him again, he reaches out, his hand trembling slightly as he cups your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek the same way it did all those years ago. 

----

[borathae]

"Your husband, who is your lovely sub on normal days, asks if he could take the lead for once."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader 

Genre: married life!AU, Smut

Warnings: switchy Dom!Jungkook, switch!Reader, basically he wants to be Dom but ends up having quite a subby approach to the entire scene, he is so cute!, slightly bratty!Reader, he shows off his bratty side as well, he lets a few "Mommy"s slip because he is cute, sex in the playroom, leather handcuffs, he ties her to the bed with ropes, suit kink as he keeps his suit on during sex, lap sitting, he is a giggly tease, body worship, nipple licking, temperature play with peach juice, edging (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), vaginal fingering, use of a rabbit vibrator, use of lube, strength kink, some dirty talk, he calls her "his queen", giggly aftercare, Kookie slips right back into sub-mode the moment the scene ended, they’re so in love!!

Wordcount: 9.7k

a/n: Okay you guys, you know that I love aaol!Kook and his subby nature very much, but this idea came to me one night and wouldn't want to leave me. So enjoy, this is him being the Dom in a scene I am *gulps* have fun besties 😩💜

Your husband had a request last night. It was the type of request he never made before and one you most definitely didn’t expect to ever hear from him.

“Can I dom you?”

The question fell during dinner, leaving you to look at him with widened eyes.

“It’s just that, that…”

He began stuttering then, fondling with his own ear nervously.

“...you know that I, uhm, you know how we, uhm. You know uhm. You know how we once talked about how I’m kinda only subbing for the right woman and that I’m actually a switch? You know it, it was on our first date. You know?”

You assured him that yes of course you remember.

“Yeah okay I uh. Uhm. Uh. Mmh, yeah. I was, uh.”

You had to tell him then, “Jungkook, please don’t be so nervous, there is no reason for it”, which calmed him down enough that he could finish his sentence properly.

“It’s just that, I was thinking that maybe we could, you know, switch it up for once? Just, just once obviously and I, I don’t wanna invalidate you as a Dom.”

“You aren’t, my love”, you told him to which he seemed rather assured.

“Okay good, so uhm. What do you think? Could I be, uhm, could I be the Dom for once? Just once? Please? Once?”

Jungkook looked at you with the biggest puppy eyes ever and so you told him in the most nonchalant of ways that “yeah sure, let’s switch it up. But ain’t calling you Daddy.”

“Ew hell no, that’s just gross. You’re literally the same age as me.”

At that you had to laugh, “but Jungkook dear, you call me Mommy too.”

“Well, that’s different because you’re hot and like totally my type.”

A day has passed between that conversation and the current moment. You have just come home, now in the middle of hanging up your coat when Jungkook calls for you.

“My love, can you come here for a moment?”

“Coming! Just gotta get rid of my bag!” you tell him, doing exactly that.

You find Jungkook in the living room once you are done undressing. He is sitting on the chaise lounge by the window, still wearing a suit. Well, parts of it at least. A black and terribly tight button up is tucked into his equally as tight and as black slacks. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up, revealing his strong, lower arms to you. His favourite Rolex sits around his wrist. The suit jacket he had draped on the chaise lounge beside him.

“Hey there handsome, how was your day?” you greet him.

“Good. Yours?”

“Good too, just kinda stressful.”

“Yeah stressful?”

“Yeah very. But it’s alright because I’m home now. With you.”

Jungkook gives you a shy grin. You let your eyes run over his chest. He has three of his buttons open, leaving little to your imagination.

“But what’s with you. Why are you still in your suit?” you ask him.

“It’s not my work suit.”

“It’s not?”

Jungkook smirks and spreads his legs rather cockily.

“Come here, my love”, he says, carrying a certain rasp in his voice.

“Oh? Okay”, you chuckle, “is this already part of your plan?”

“Yeah maybe”, he straightens up the closer you come.

“Is it now? What about dinner?”

“Wanna take you out afterwards. It’s not good to play with a full stomach anyway”, he tells you, following the sway of your hips with his eyes, “now sit”, he says, tapping his lap.

You smile fondly, climbing on top of his lap in a way so that you were facing him. Your knees are caging in his hips and you have your hands hooked behind his neck.

“Like this?” you ask, playing with his undercut at the nape of his neck.

“Perfect”, he says and places his hands on your hips to massage them gently. He scans his eyes over your body, “you’re so beautiful, my love.”

“Oh? Thank you. I feel like a mess. I was sweating so much today.”

“I don’t even see it. You are so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Bunny.”

“No, no. Call me by name tonight”, he pauses, “if it’s alright with you, of course”, he adds in a whisper.

“By your name?” you stifle a chuckle, but Jungkook is looking at you with dead serious eyes, “fine. Thank you, Jungkook”, you coo, fluttering your lashes at him.

Jungkook nods his head and runs his hand up your back. He gives your body a gentle squeeze when he reaches your upper back, then begins dancing his hands down to your hips again.

“How was your day, my love? Honestly”, he asks with his attentive eyes solely focused on you. He loves listening to you.

“It was good. Just really hot and the last two lectures kinda ruined me. I’m so tired”, you say and rest your head on his shoulder, “but that’s amazing. You’re so snuggly.”

Jungkook kisses your hair and rubs his hands up and down your back. His touch is so nice, making you tingle in a comforting manner. 

“Are you in the mood for kink? I know I’m kinda surprising you right now.”

“No, I knew you would. We talked about it, didn’t we?”

“Mhm, yeah. But moods can change, especially after a long day.”

“No, I still want it. I was looking forward to tonight. I’m so curious to what you have planned.”

“It’s gonna be so good”, he says and wiggles.

“Yeah?"

“Mh-hm, I put a lot of thought into it and worked with the wishes you told me yesterday. I really worked so hard on it.”

“Uuh Bunny, that sounds intriguing.”

“I know, oh Mommy I’m so-”, he stops and wiggles out of your hug. He pouts at you, “no Bunny”, he frowns cutely, “and you’re not my Mommy tonight. No.”

You laugh, caressing his cheeks, “you’re cute. But fine. I’ll behave. What do you have planned, Jungkook?”

“First, tell me your rights”, he says.

“Well, I have the right to vote and the right to voice my opinion freely, there is also the right to-”

“No ___, don’t ruin my plan”, Jungkook whines, sending you a pleading look.

You chuckle. He is so adorable. You are pretty sure that if you truly acted bratty, he would just straight up break into tears because of feeling way too overwhelmed. Poor, sweet boy. Maybe you should cut him some slack for now. After all, Jungkook has a talent for planning scenes. You are sure that he put a lot of effort into tonight.

“Fine”, you give in, “Green, yellow and red. Snap my fingers three times or hum happy birthday. Also don’t you dare call me a good girl or I will end the scene immediately.”

“Yes, that’s it. I understand”, Jungkook says, nodding his head, “do you want this?”

“Yes Jungkook, I do.”

“Good”, he lowers his eyes playfully, “you know? I did some thinking today.”

“You did?”

“Mhm yeah. I was thinking about all the ways I could ruin you.”

“Ruin me?” you gasp, feeling genuinely surprised.

“Yeah”, Jungkook lowers his eyes playfully, “you always put so much effort into making sure I’m a complete mess, so I put a lot of thinking into what I could do to you.”

“You did?” you ask him, finding more and more enjoyment in the scene.

“Yeah”, he smirks playfully, “why don’t you clean up and get pretty for me and I’ll show you?”

“You’ll show me?” you ask huskily, moving closer.

Jungkook looks at your lips with half-lidded eyes.

“Yeah”, he rasps, “upstairs.”

A shiver runs down your spine, making your hips squirm on top of his lap.

“You really prepared it upstairs?”

“Yeah, like we talked about”, he says cockily, “I also put out something for you to wear.”

“Fuck Bunny, you-”

“Uh, nuh”, he silences you by pressing his finger against your lips, “aren’t you forgetting something here?”

“Jungkook”, you murmur, gawking at him with widened eyes, “I meant Jungkook.”

“Better”, he rasps and caresses your chin with two of his fingers, “now off you go, get cleaned up and pretty and then come upstairs. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Fine, geez you’re really into this role aren’t you?” you murmur, stumbling off his lap with slightly wobbly knees.

Jungkook told the truth. He really prepared something to wear for you. One of his shirts. Babyblue and oversized. It is resting on your bed with a single red rose and a little note on top of it. You aren’t surprised that he chose something so domestic and casual. He loves it when you wear his clothes and quite frankly, you expected him to choose domestic attire for you.

You decide to get washed up first and read the note later.

Once done and with your body finally smelling and feeling clean again, you sit down on the edge of the bed, putting on the shirt. It fits you perfectly, smelling just like him. Once you took a good whiff of him, you reach for the note and the finely wrapped chocolate praline he placed beside it. You let it melt on your tongue as you read.

“A flower and chocolate for my Queen. PS: No panties please ;) Love, Jungkook.”

You smile, folding the note neatly and placing it next to the rose.

“You’re so cute, Bunny”, you murmur, leaving the bedroom to finally hurry upstairs.

You are so excited for what he has planned. You know that whatever he thought of will be fun. The two of you had a long and thorough conversation about your likes and dislikes last night, so you know that Jungkook must have taken great advantage of the knowledge. He is your amazing husband after all.

You knock three times and wait with a racing heart.

“Come in!”

You take a deep breath and finally slip inside.

The playroom doesn’t look much different than it normally does. Except that Jungkook turned on all the moodlights and he changed the once red PVC cover for the black one. It fits well with his outfit.

“Look at you”, he says, leaving the place by the backlit window to strut to you, “you look fucking stunning.”

“Thank you”, you say, “and thank you for the rose and chocolate.”

“Of course”, he says, taking your hand to place a soft kiss on top of your knuckles, “anything for my Queen”, he rasps, looking at you with playful eyes.

He leaves you all hot and bothered. This cocky, flirty attitude suits him so well.

“So”, you begin, “finally ready to tell me what you have planned for me?”

Jungkook straightens up solely to begin circling you like a predator would its prey. His steps are confident, the sound of his shoes are loud on the floorboards.

One.

Two.

He is standing just about behind you, placing his hand on your lower back. He leans in, making sure that you would feel his breath tickle your neck.

“Patience”, he whispers, inching his hand closer and closer to your front. He presents a flute of a sparkling beverage to you. It reflects the red lights, “for you.”

“What’s that?” you gasp, eyeing it with slight shock in your tummy.

“Sparkling peach juice”, he says and giggles, “I wanted to treat you to something yummy.”

“Oh dear, you had me worried that you got alcohol for a sec”, you say, accepting the flute gladly.

“Never”, he says and snakes his arm around you so he could clink glasses with you. He ghosts his lips over your neck as he does, sending shivers down your spine, “to a wonderful evening”, he rasps.

“Yeah”, you agree and guide the glass to your lips. Jungkook does the same with his’. One sip and then he ghosts his lips over your neck again. They are cold from the juice, their kisses leave wet spots on your skin. Jungkook lets his breath swirl over them, intensifying the sensation to the max. It also doesn’t help that his unoccupied hand is running up and down your waist, reminding you just how warm his touch feels.

“I’m so obsessed with you”, he whispers, nibbling on the spots he marked to get rid of the juice, “I can’t stop looking at you in this shirt”, he says, letting his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

The shiver running down your spine leaves you seeking his closeness. You lean into him, sipping on the juice.

“Means I’m yours”, you whisper, listening to his breath hitch.

“Mine?” he repeats, voice shaky.

You smirk triumphantly, “yeah, yours. When you’re on business trips I always put it on, it’s like you’re right there with me.”

“My love”, Jungkook is almost growling, pressing himself into you while his hand grips your hip strongly. He buries his face in your neck, purring deeply.

You giggle, stumbling from how aggressively he is gripping you and with just how much vigour he is grinding into you. You knew it. This would drive him insane. You solely did it to get him that way. Desperate and oh so turned on.

“Fuck, you drive me insane”, he rasps, “I wanna treat you so fucking right.”

His hand rests itself on your stomach, pressing your body back into him. You fall gladly, moaning softly when your ass brushes against his growing cock.

You have to look at him. You just have to.

“Goddamn Kook, what’s gotten into you?”

He looks into your eyes, “why? Do you not like it? Did I do something wrong?” he asks panickedly.

“No, it’s just. You’re actually into that role, aren’t you?”

He nods his head, “I spent my entire day thinking about it”, he confesses and giggles cutely, “I couldn’t concentrate at work at all because all I could think about was us and, and you and just how excited I am for tonight.”

“Well, that’s not good. You shouldn’t do that, baby”, you say, caressing his cheek.

“I know, but I couldn’t help it Mommy, I just-”, he falters, lowering his eyes at you, “don’t do that”, he whines.

“Oh, cutie”, you laugh.

“Hey don’t laugh, it’s not funny. You’re so mean, you gotta give me a chance too.”

“I am, I am. Don’t worry”, you assure him, snickering.

He huffs out air, pouting.

“Fine”, you twirl, placing your hand on his chest, “I’ll try to behave from now on.”

“Thanks”, he says, relaxing. He touches your side, massaging it slowly while his eyes race over your features.

“I’ll try, can’t promise that I’ll succeed”, you say, smirking.

“Mhm, that’s enough for me”, he says, pulling you closer, “thank you, my love. I really need this, so thank you.”

He is so sweet. You are melting on the spot. He is so, so sweet.

“Now”, you say and shotgun the rest of your juice, “finally wanna tell me what you have planned for me?”

“Well first”, he says and takes your hand, “follow me.”

He leads you to the bed, sitting down and pulling you on top of his lap in a way so that your legs would tangle down on one side of him and your back was supported by his arm. The glasses are placed on the floor for now.

The other hand he slips between your legs, feeling up your inner thigh with teasing precision. You really want to squirm because of it. His touch is like fire on your skin.

“What would you say if I told you that I want to put handcuffs around your wrists? And then make you lie on the mattress while I feel up every inch of you?”

“Handcuffs you’re saying? What kinda handcuffs?”

You are acting oblivious on purpose. In reality, you knew exactly of what handcuffs he is talking. You talked about it last night.

He nods his head to the side, pulling your attention to the black leather cuffs currently resting beside him on the bed. You know these cuffs. They have been around Jungkook’s wrists a hundred times before.

“Those seem familiar.”

“Mhm probably. They’re comfy, trust me.”

“Yeah? Have experience with them?”

He smirks playfully, looking at your lips, “maybe.”

“That’s hot. Someone so strong and manly all tied up. That’s so hot”, you coo, swirling your nail up his exposed chest.

Jungkook purrs, moving closer until your lips are touching. One second of gazing. His hand moves, his finger brushes over your pussy. A gasp slips past your lips.

“No panties”, he says and smiles, “you listened. I like that.”

He is tracing your thigh as he speaks. He is so close to your middle that you would only have to move a little and you could have his touch. One more time. The first touch felt so good.

“I thought I’d make it easier for you”, you whisper, chasing him in a squirm.

“You did so well”, he praises, “now”, he pauses his touches, hovers his finger just above your clit, “can you tell me what you think of the idea, mhm?”

Again. He knew exactly what you thought of it because you told him last night. You were into it and you trusted him. It was still terribly exciting to hear you consent to it once again.

“It’s alright.”

“Alright?”

You giggle playfully, making Jungkook frown. It’s actually quite a sexy look on him.

“Kidding. I like it”, you say, grinning when this makes Jungkook roll his eyes at you.

“Pick them up.”

“Huh?”

“Pick up the handcuffs”, Jungkook repeats the order. His voice sounds sterner than before.

You follow with a chuckle, snatching them from the mattress to tangle them from your fingers instead.

“And now?”

“Put them around your wrist.”

“Like this?” you ask, messing it up on purpose.

Jungkook grabs your wrist harshly, genuinely flustering you. He is still frowning, working skillfully to close the shackles. First your right then your left. He twists the chain between them and tugs your hands closer. 

“Like this”, he says.

“Well damn. That’s one way to do it”, you murmur, gazing into his dark eyes.

“How do they feel?” he asks.

“Good”, you rasp, gawking at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you’re just really hot”, you say, making him blush and lower his eyes. 

“Heh”, he lets out, gazing into your eyes. His hand slips between your legs again, massaging your inner thigh. You feel hot instantly, tensing your muscles in desperation. 

And as he runs his fingers over your skin, he continues talking.  

“I want to hook you to the bed by the handcuffs. What do you think of that?”

“Sounds constricting.”

“Yeah”, he places his hand over your pussy, moving his fingers as slowly as possible. 

You gasp because of it, parting your legs.

“I promise that it’ll feel nice. Like this”, he rasps, parting your folds with two of his fingers. He feels you up. Once. Twice. His touch retreats, desperation remains. 

“Jungkook”, you breathe, closing your fingers around a bundle of his shirt. 

Jungkook’s hooded eyes flit down to them, the right corner of his lips curls into a smirk. He touches your inner thigh, basking in the squirm you do because of it. 

“Can I call you cute?” he asks. 

“Cute?”

“Are you comfortable with being called that way?”

“Only when you say it. Why?”

He moves closer, squeezing your thigh and eliciting a loud gasp from you. His dark eyes flit to your lips, his breath tickles you as he speaks.

“Because you’re so fucking cute when you squirm for me”, he rasps, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Goddamn it, Kook”, you whisper, aching for a kiss. 

Jungkook purrs and smirks. He stubs you with his nose, getting to his feet afterwards with you in his arms bridal style. His muscles tense, he bounces you in his arms twice to get a better grip. And you are dizzy. Seriously, you are dizzy. You expected anything, but not for Jungkook to be so good at controlling a scene. 

Jungkook sets you down on the bed carefully, placing you in the middle of it and soothing you by caressing your cheek. 

“Are you comfortable?” he makes sure.

“Yeah, I am”, you assure him.

“Okay. Good. Lift your arms, I’m tying you down”, he orders and you obey. 

He grabs the rope, guiding it to your handcuffs to tie you down. He prepared the rope for tonight. Black tossa yute. He likes the feel of it and the colour. He thinks that it fits the overall vibe he is trying to go for. Dark and mysterious.

Jungkook finishes the knot, running his fingers down your arms and making you writhe in the process. His touch tingles like crazy.

“How is that?” he asks you. 

“Good”, you answer him, studying his face, “what now?”

“Now? I’m taking my time with you. You’re so beautiful, It’d be a shame not to”, he says, sitting down at the edge of the bed. He pulls one knee up, placing his arm across your waist. Like this, he is propped up on his hand, facing you with sparkly eyes. 

He runs them up and down your torso and as the seconds become longer and longer, those sparkles get replaced by hungry fire.  

You feel on fire too. Sharing silence with him. Being gazed upon. Building tension. Jungkook hasn’t touched you yet and somehow this is driving you insane. 

Jungkook moves. Finally. His touch lays itself upon your stomach. His warmth seeps through the shirt, your skin is covered in goosebumps. He caresses you, squeezes you afterwards. Strong and desperate. 

Jungkook locks eyes with you. They are dark and half-lidded. 

“You’re so fucking sexy in my shirt”, he rasps, voice deeper than usual, “I’m so addicted to you.”

“Addicted?” you gasp.

“Yeah”, he purrs, running his hand up your tummy and sternum until he reaches your throat. He doesn’t touch it, knowing that you don’t want him to go there. Instead he lifts his hand so only his fingertips are touching you. He tugs at the collar of the shirt, giving you a glimpse of what he will do next. “I’m running on nothing but you.”

You feel good from his sweet words. He always knows what to say. Jungkook slips his fingers to the upper most button of the shirt. 

“Can I start to undress you?” he asks

“Yes, you can”, you allow him, feeling incredibly safe right now. You didn’t for a second feel fear for tonight. There is a reason why you don’t want to sub. Not only for the most obvious one that Domming just feels a lot better to you and it comes natural to you, but also because being a sub in the past hurt you. The men you had to sleep with at your job hurt you, fucked you into non-consensual submission and left without making sure to fix what they broke. Quite frankly, being someone’s sub traumatised you.

But you weren’t scared of tonight because you aren’t scared of Jungkook. You could never be scared of Jungkook. Especially not when it comes to kink. He respects you, loves you and cherishes you. You told him that you needed him to ask permission for every new step he takes and he does. He is asking, going slow, making sure that he only proceeds once he gets your clear verbal consent. This is everything you needed and Jungkook is showing you once again that you can always trust him and count on him. And it is enough to make you feel safe enough that you willingly let yourself get tied up and therefore rendered helpless.

He undresses you slowly. Button by button. Each time he opens a new one, he feels up your skin with featherlight touches. There are ten buttons on his shirt, by the time you mentally counted to ten, you are aching for his touch. You really, really are. 

Jungkook retreats his hand, letting the situation hang in the air. Your shirt is still closed except for a little slit having formed in the middle. Technically you are still dressed, but feel naked already. Naked and desperate. 

“How was that?” he asks you. 

“Good”, you get out, “Jungkook, hurry up.”

“Patience”, he soothes you, caressing your hip. 

“I hate patience”, you say and huff out air. 

“No you don’t, you’re telling me to be patient all the time”, he retorts and goddamn it hits right where it hurts the most.

“No need to throw my own bomb back at me”, you mumble, making him snicker.

You send him a pout, one that Jungkook wipes away instantly with a soft caress to your chin.

“You’re so cute”, he whispers, making you roll your eyes fondly.

He retreats his hand, touching your exposed collarbone instead. 

“I’ll get on top of you for now. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

“Good, that’s good”, Jungkook says and climbs on bed, claiming his spot right atop your lap. His slacks are struggling around his thighs and butt, stretching to their limit. The view is seriously making your mouth water. 

Jungkook sits down on you. Nicely heavy and warm. That’s how he feels. And weirdly enough, he feels in charge. Despite how normally submissive he is in this position, tonight he feels in charge and you are starting to enjoy it more and more. At least for tonight. He is so hot when he is bossy. 

Your eyes flit from his meaty thighs to his hands. He is currently fixing the rolled up sleeves of his shirt, making sure that you get the perfect view of his lower arms and working fingers. He ends it by running his fingertips down his own skin, rocking back and forth on you just once. 

He is so hot without even trying. No wonder you’re so irrevocably in love with him.

He lowers himself, hands coming to rest on each side of your head and dark eyes running over your face.

“You’re so pretty”, he rasps.

“And you’re drooling.”

“Mhm proudly”, he says, giving you a cute grin, “I’ll start to open your shirt now and I’ll touch you as I do. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Good. Relax for me, my love. You’re in good hands”, he whispers and sits up, placing his hands on your tummy to feel up your torso. He stops once he reaches the collar of your shirt, hooking his fingers in it to tug it open. 

And so it begins. The addicting game of undress. Jungkook goes slow, eyes running over your body adoringly and fingers tracing your skin ever so often.

“I love it when you wear my shirts”, he whispers in a raspy voice.

“I know, you’re not good at hiding it”, you say, gazing at him.

“Who said I wanna hide it?”

“Hah. Sweet talker.”

“Mh-hm yeah”, he lets out and lowers his lips to your neck. He kisses the tender spot where your neck meets your collarbone. You find yourself sighing his name because of it, rolling your head to the side to give him better access. 

One Jungkook takes gladly, trailing his kisses along your neck while his fingers feel up your upper sides. His touch tickles in an amazing way. 

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, “I’m so lucky. Seriously so lucky”, you adds and swirls his tongue down your neck. 

“Ah”, you let out at the sensation, writhing in bliss. His tongue is so wet and warm, leaving behind a tingling cold sensation where the air hits your skin. 

Jungkook wraps his lips around a spot on your upper chest and sucks. It feels gentle at first until a small sting shoots through you. 

“Kookie”, you let out and luckily for you, Jungkook slips his lips from your skin to kiss a loving trail down to your breasts.

“My queen”, he whispers, “you’re mine. All mine. I love my queen so much”, he says and lifts his gaze to look at you.

“I love you too”, you tell him with a fluttering tummy. 

“Heh”, he lets out and lowers himself back to your chest, “my love, can I worship your breasts?”

“Yes, you can.”

“Thank you, you are so beautiful. I wanna make you feel so good”, he whispers and begins kissing your skin. He moans and sighs as he does, running his hands over your curves and rocking his hips back and forth on your lap. 

It feels so good. He is so gentle in his touches and loving in his kisses. Every second with him feels like a dream. A warm and safe dream. By the time Jungkook lifts his lips from your chest for the first time, you are so charged in pleasure that you actually whine.

“What was that?” he asks, tracing your ribs right under your breasts.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” he smiles boyishly, “are you sure? Because it sounded like a whine to me.”

He makes you frown and pout. He chuckles because of it, wiggling his hips.

“You’re a tease”, you get out and arch your back, “fuck Kookie, my nipples are sensitive.”

“I know, they’re really swollen too”, he says and rubs his fingers against them. The touch makes you arch into him again, forcing your lips to produce a soft moan. Jungkook circles his hips and moans with you, “that feels so good. Your nipples are so, so pretty.”

“Kook, seriously”, you sigh, “it’s driving me insane.”

“It’s starting to work, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“My plan to ruin you.”

You open your eyes, sending him a look. Jungkook snickers because of it, giving you a playful smile. 

“Look at you enjoying this”, you murmur, “so mean.”

He snickers with even more boyishness in his eyes, sliding his hands to your waist and leaning some of his weight on you. 

“Are you still enjoying it?”

“I am. A lot.”

“That’s so nice to hear. Oh Mommy, I’m so happy”, he says and leans down to smooch your lips. He cups your cheeks, rubbing his nose against yours as he wiggles his hips, “do you really like it a lot?”

“Yes, I really do. You feel so good.”

“Oh god, Mommy”, he giggles, “that makes me so, so happy. I wanna be such a good Dom to you, Mommy.”

“You’re cute, Bunny. Also, I thought I’m not your Mommy tonight?”

“Oh”, Jungkook lifts his head, blinking at you with widened eyes, “I uh…”

You laugh, “don’t worry, love. I’m just gonna act like you didn’t say that.”

“God”, he lowers his eyes shyly, “thank you. I can’t stop calling you that. It comes so natural to me.”

“It’s alright. You’re still in charge, don’t worry.”

“Okay, okay”, he grins cutely, “I want to do the next step to you.”

“Okay? What do you wanna do?”

“I wanna use the juice to get my mouth colder and then run it over your body”, his eyes shift to your nipples, his thumbs draw light circles on them, “especially your nipples”, he adds in a breathy whisper.

“That’s hot, do it”, you allow him, arching into his touch.

“Okay. Stay, don’t go anywhere”, he says and snickers at his joke as he climbs off your lap.

“Stupid noodle”, you murmur, smiling to yourself.

He skips back to the bed in happy steps and sits down on your lap again. He carries the flute of juice in his left hand, lifting it to his lips to take a sip. He swallows it, keeping up eye contact as he does. Once done, he smiles, letting out a soft chuckle.

You retort it, arching into his hand as he runs it over your torso. He cradles your breasts and massages them gently.

“The juice is so yummy”, he says and leans down to dance his cold lips over your chest.

“Mhhm”, you purr, closing your eyes in pleasure. His fingers are so warm, his touch so hot and yet his lips are so cold. The contrast of sensations makes you tingle like crazy.

Jungkook sits up and takes another sip. He keeps just enough in his mouth so he could wrap his lips round your nipple and make you feel the sensation. Wet and cold. Goosebumps form on your chest because of it. The tingle snakes all the way down to your pussy.

“God”, you chuckle, squirming desperately, “that’s cold. Hah.”

Jungkook swallows the juice, ending it by sucking on your nipple. You are so goddamn sensitive already that you have to close your legs and rub them together.

“Bunny…”

Jungkook lifts his lips, moaning softly. He looks up at you with sparkly eyes, smiling sweetly. 

“You’re so sweet”, he says, “I love your nipples so much.”

“You’re such a tease”, you whisper.

Jungkook scrunches his nose and sits up. He lifts the flute of juice and guides it over your tummy. 

“This isn’t gonna go well”, you tell him, watching with a dizzy head.

He tilts the glass.

“Bunny, listen to me. It’s gonna go everywhere.”

But Jungkook doesn’t listen. He tilts the flute and lets the juice trickle down onto your tummy. It goes well at first until it gets too much and the juice escapes down your sides. 

“Oh no”, he gasps, leaning down quickly to slurp it up from your tummy. 

“See?” you laugh, “you stupid noodle, you should have listened. I know what’s up.”

Jungkook slurps one last time, then licks up and down your tummy with the flat of his tongue. You have to be honest, that shit feels amazing. Cold at first until his hot mouth warms you up again.

He guides his mouth to your lower tummy, nibbling at your tenderness with his teeth tugged behind his lips. You squirm and giggle. 

Jungkook lifts his head, grinning up at you.

“This was all part of my plan”, he very obviously lies, “I wanted the juice to go everywhere so I can lick your tummy.”

“Mhm sure”, you say sarcastically and snicker, “you’re such a stupid noodle.”

“Heh”, he lets out and sits up. There is one sip left in the glass. He decides to trickle it over your tummy again. It spills again, making you chuckle and glance at him. He does the same, “all part of the plan.”

“Sure.”

Jungkook grins and leans down, slurping up the sweet juice while his hands run up and down your sides. The empty glass he discarded on the bed for now. 

Once clean again, he guides his eager tongue up to your breasts. His mouth is warmed up by now, it feels like fire around your nipples as he sucks and licks them. One at a time with equal amounts of attention shared between them. 

And while he does, he is rolling his hips on your lap, squeezing his thighs around you needily. He is even whimpering like the natural babyboy he is. If you weren’t so tied up and ruined in desperation, you would have grabbed him and flipped him to give him the fuck he deserved. 

But you aren’t in control tonight. At least, you pretend to be. 

“Jungkook more”, and so you beg, feeling not an ounce of shame in doing so. He makes you feel so safe that it doesn’t feel weird to beg. 

Jungkook lifts his puffy lips from your equally as puffy nipples. His fingers continue to play with them even when he sits up. His hips wiggle and roll against you, his butt is stuck out as he arches his back. 

This whole situation really is one big roleplay, you think as you watch him pose so instinctively submissive. 

“Did you just beg?” he asks, melting you with it. He is so cute.

“And if I did?” you answer him, thrusting your hips up. Jungkook squeaks and moans, pressing his thighs together. Cute. He is so adorable, “I need more, please.”

“Oh god”, he chokes out and wiggles his hips, “okay. Yes”, he nods his head vigorously and gives your nipples a soft pinch.

The sensation makes you sigh and arch your back.

“I want to use a rabbit on you”, he smiles with his eyes, “not me, an actual rabbit vibe.”

You roll your eyes, “you stupid noodle, that joke was terrible”, you say with a fond grin. 

“Hehe”, he lets out and leans down, forcing heat to rise to your cheeks from just how seductive he suddenly looks. Playful and terribly cute, but still very seductive, “can I use a toy on you, please?”

“Yes you can”, you whisper, eyes hypnotised by his lips. They are so wet and puffy from sucking your nipples. And so pink. You want to kiss him so fucking bad.

“Thank you. Now stay here, I’ll get the toy”, he says, kissing your forehead once before climbing off bed and strutting to the big toy wall. He discards the glass on a table while he is at it.

You and he are very proud of your collection. It took a few years to get it where it is today and you are still not done. Each toy has its separate compartment, while your more aesthetic toys even have their own display case. The rabbit vibrator was a White Day present from Jungkook. Dark pink and soft silicone. The toy is both controlled by buttons and over its very own app. Sometimes when Jungkook is on a business trip and you have sex over a video call, you use said rabbit to get off while Jungkook is the one controlling the pattern. Obviously he knows that he can only get his very own reward if he gives you a good pattern and until now, he has never disappointed. 

Jungkook closes the drawer and returns to the bed, but not before grabbing your favourite lube. 

You also use the rabbit to jerk off whenever Jungkook is not in the mood for sex or you are too lazy to ask him and need simple, quick relief. And on your most favourite occasions, you use the toy to get off Jungkook, stuffing his ass with it and using its curve to torture his prostate while the smaller side presses against his balls. Jungkook shakes like crazy whenever you do that.

Jungkook places the lube bottle and toy next to you on the mattress. He touches your legs, running his palms down to your ankles.

“Ready?”

“For what?”

“That”, he says, grabs you by your ankles and pulls your legs apart.

You squeak right along with your feet as they slide over the PVC cover.

“Jungkook why?” you laugh, “oh my fucking god.”

“I’m sorry, it’s always so hot when you do it. Did you not like it?”

“I did, don’t worry, just fuck. You’re better at that than I thought you would be.”

Jungkook grins cockily, “what can I say? I’m a natural.”

“You’re a stupid noodle that’s what you are”, you say with a fond giggle.

“Yeah…I like being your stupid noodle. It makes you laugh. I love making you laugh.”

“God Kookie, you’re so cute.”

“Heh”, he lets out and places himself between your open legs. He places the rabbit on your tummy, resting his hand on the sheets next to your pussy. Then he flashes you a cute smile, “you’re pretty.”

“God Kookie, I love you so much which is why I’m gonna tell you something now. Hurry the fuck up”, you say and groan, bucking your hips up in desperation.

He laughs, wiggling his shoulders.

“It’s not fun is it?” he teases and kisses your knee, “now you know how I feel when you tease me.”

“If I knew you would use tonight as a revenge scheme I’d have said no”, you joke, making his laughter grow.

He smooches your other knee then flashes you a smile.

“I’ll get started, yeah?” he says.

“Yeah”, you stress, opening your legs further.

Despite his words, Jungkook takes his sweet time in getting the toy ready. He picks it up from your tummy and spreads lube over its silicon shaft as slowly as possible, all while his pretty doe eyes switch between the toy and your face.

“Kook…” you warn.

He looks at you and smiles, “patience. I’m almost done.”

“You’re such a tease.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He merely smiles and connects his lubed up fingers with your pussy.

You hiss at the contact, rolling your hips into his touch. It feels like ecstasy to be touched by him. His fingers are so gentle and know exactly where to touch.

“You’re so wet”, he lulls, massaging your pussy in slow circles. First your clit and folds, then he lingers on your entrance.

“Fuck, baby”, you moan softly.

Jungkook slips his fingers inside, forcing your body to shudder in pleasure. The breach feels so good that you have to grip the ropes and arch your back. Jungkook watches it happening with his cock straining his slacks. He didn’t dare to imagine you twisting ropes like this and yet here you are, twisting the ropes because of how good he makes you feel. He swallows down the mewl threatening to escape him and instead channels his desperation into curling his fingers just right.

“That feels so good”, you sigh, rolling your head to the side, “fuck.”

“I love this so much”, he confesses with his voice trembling, “you’re so soft.”

“More.”

Jungkook smiles because you are twisting the ropes again and you don’t even notice it. He’s really got you desperate, hasn’t he? He feels his heart flutter and his tummy turn in desire. This is so sexy to him.

He slips his fingers free, even if you whine, and guides the vibrator to your pussy. Your whines stops, desperate breathing replaces them.

“Take a deep breath for me”, he orders in a soft voice, listening to the way your breath hitches in your throat. He puts gentle pressure on your pussy and slips inside.

“Jungkook”, you release your breath in a moan of his name, clenching around the toy with your fingers closing around the ropes again.

“Keep breathing, my love. Keep breathing”, Jungkook talks you through it, staring at your pussy with dilated pupils. She looks so pretty around the toy, fitting right around it. As if you were made for it. Jungkook squeezes his legs together and pushes the last two inches inside, “done. How are you?”

“Turn it on, please.”

“Did you just beg again?”

“Fuck, shut up and do it”, you throw back in a chuckle, sending him a look.

Jungkook snickers, scrunching his nose up, “you’re so cute”, he says and presses the on button. The toy begins purring and humming, sending vibrations through your pussy.

“Holy shit”, your eyes roll back and fall closed, your legs open further, “Jungkook….”

“That’s it. Relax”, he speaks in whispers, moving the toy back and forth carefully, “how’s that, my love?”

“Good, really good just…move the clit part a little to the left.”

Jungkook fixes the position, “like this?”

“Yes”, you groan, rolling your hips up, “yes there. Keep that going. Jungkook, right there.”

“This makes me so hard”, he confesses in a mewl. He gets on his knees, squeezing his cock between his thighs this way. He keeps rubbing them together, finding relief that way. He knows that it’s not the most dominant position, but he can’t help himself. He loves it so much when he can serve you! He loves making you feel good, moan and shake. He loves it so much that he gets so horny that he just has to rub his cock against whatever is closest. And tonight his clothed thighs are the closest friction he can get and he chases it like a needy bunny while his hand never once messes up the rhythm of the toy.

It is not long and he has you arching your back for an orgasm. Your thighs are trembling and your fingers ache from twisting the ropes.

“Jungkook, I have to cum”, you confess in a moan, readying yourself for the amazing high with bated breath. You just know that the orgasm is going to feel like heaven. He managed to rile you up so much that it will consume your entire body. You can’t wait to have it.

In three, two…

Jungkook removes the toy from your pussy and turns it off. The fire dies down, agony replaces it.

“What the hell?” you groan, writhing in pain, “holy fuck, did you just edge me?”

Your eyes meet. While you are genuinely shocked by what just happened, Jungkook seems proud of himself.

“Yeah”, he says.

“What the fuck?”

He laughs, wiggling his shoulders. 

“No seriously, what the fuck? Why would you do that?” you press out. He never edged you without your orders before. This is a fucking first and goddamn, it riles you up.

“Because I can”, he throws back and grins.

“You are. So. Mean”, you get out and drop your head, “holy shit, I wanna cum.”

Jungkook snickers, running his hands down your thighs. He pushes them apart gently and lowers himself to your pussy. He plops down on his tummy and finally connects his mouth with your heat.

You flinch at the sudden wet warmth around your pussy, tugging at the ropes so aggressively that the rings jingle.

“Jungkook”, you choke out, “Jungkook, holy fuck.”

Jungkook mewls into you, lapping at your wet pussy with his sparkly eyes gazing up at you. You taste sweet like the lube he covered you in. He licks you until the taste has faded and only the amazing taste of your pleasure coats his tongue. He loves this taste so much more than the tacky artificial sweetness of lube.

He closes his arms around your thighs and tugs you closer, slurping deliciously as he drinks your taste.

“You’re fucking amazing”, you get out, writhing in pleasure, “I’m fucking serious, you’re amazing.”

Jungkook fucks the mattress because of your praise, moaning into your pussy desperately. He runs his palms up and down your tender thighs, soothing the shakes running through them each time he runs his eager tongue over your clit. He loves those shakes so much that he wants them to run through you constantly. He focuses his licks on your clit, switching between drawing circles and flicking the tip of his tongue up and down your swollen bundle of nerves. He knows that this drives you crazy.

“This is gonna make me cum”, you confess, shaking unapologetically.

Jungkook mewls and puts more pressure on your clit. He wants you to be as close to orgasming as possible. He has to get you as needy as you can get for what he has planned next. Your clit throbs under his tongue, but he knows not to pull back yet. It often throbs when he’s going down on you, this isn’t an indicator yet. In your beginnings, Jungkook often pulled back when you began throbbing under his tongue because he thought that you would orgasm, but years and years of practice and routine taught him that this wasn’t a sign yet. You just have a very reactive clit. Especially when his mouth is involved.

Jungkook listens to the noises you make. They are currently loud and filled with desperation. Good. That means he can still continue. You get quieter, the closer you get, because you always start holding your breath when you are about to orgasm. Jungkook knows that much. 

He speeds up his licks and moans into you so can feel the vibrations. 

“Oh, ah-”, you twist the ropes and hold your breath. 

Now.

Jungkook breaks away.

“Oh my fucking god, you didn’t just- urgh”, you groan and thrust your hips against nothing, “how did you know?”

Jungkook feels so incredibly proud right now. He knows you so well!

“Years of practice”, he says. He tries his hardest to sound dominant and confident, but his voice is shaking like crazy because of how happy he feels.

“This is the worst. Why do you know me so well?” you murmur and whine, “please Kookie, do something again.”

“No”, he says, hoping for one more beg.

“Yes?” you throw back, “please”, you add, meaning it honestly.

Jungkook giggles, “I love it when you beg”, he says. He sits up and reaches for the vibrator. 

“Yes. This”, you murmur, eyeing it hungrily.

He spreads new lube on it and your pussy and pushes it back inside, turning it on.

“Yes this”, you moan, rolling your head from side to side, “this is….ah.”

Jungkook makes minimal movements with the toy. He wants it to keep pressing against your g-spot because he knows that he’s got you horny enough that this is what you need. You love it so much when he goes deep and slow whenever you’re far enough into the sex. It’s those moments where you pull him closer with your legs when you’re doing it missionary and those moments where you grind down on him when you’re riding him. Jungkook can hear it in the way your moans leave you.

“Does that feel good?” he rasps.

“It feels so good”, you moan, circling your hips as you keep chasing the pleasure.

Jungkook mewls and looks at your pussy. He just noticed that your clit isn’t getting stimulated. He quickly fixes the position of the toy, forcing your hips to thrust into the sensation.

“Holy shit”, you press out under your breath and then you begin to grow more and more silent as you hold your breath for longer and longer.

Jungkook circles the toy.

Silence. You are holding your breath.

Jungkook removes the toy.

“Noo Bunny, can’t you let Mommy cum?” you whine, writhing on the sheets. 

“I’m sorry Mommy, I can’t”, Jungkook says, putting the now turned off toy on the sheets.

“Fucking hell urgh”, you groan, chasing his fleeing touch as your fingers twist the ropes.

Jungkook soothes the agony by running his hands up and down your inner thighs, placing soft kisses on your knee. 

“Sorry Mommy, so sorry”, he whispers.

“No you’re not, you’re enjoying this”, you grumble. 

Jungkook snickers, climbing on top of you. He places his hands on each side of your head, gazing down at you. He is arching his back. Even now when he is the one charge, he finds himself in such a fuckable posture naturally. 

“Can you tell me your colour?” he asks, rocking back and forth mindlessly. 

“Green, but a really edged green.” 

He scrunches his nose up, giggles. You chuckle, gazing at him.

“You’re so funny”, he says, booping your nose with his finger.

You shake him off, huffing out air as you pretend to be angry. You even furrow your brows at him.

“Make me cum, you brat”, you grumble.

Jungkook snickers and kisses your forehead, “you calling me like that doesn’t work on me tonight.”

“Hmpf, you meanie”, you mumble.

“I’m sorry”, he coos and turns on your body so you have his clothed cock right above your face.

“Really?” you laugh, oggling it hungrily. It is a miracle to you how his slacks still manage to contain his cock. It is filling up his left pant leg, bulging the fabric painfully. Poor boy must be in so much pain right now. You gulp, yearning for his cock in your mouth. He must be so wet by now. You want him running down your throat and throbbing against your tongue.

“Get naked and let me suck your pretty cock”, you order.

“No”, Jungkook throws back and wiggles his hips teasingly. He knows exactly what he is doing. 

“You’re such a brat. Do as you’re told.”

“I don’t have to do anything”, he snickers cutely, “I’m in charge.”

“Wow”, you laugh and writhe, “fuck, you drive me insane.”

“I know”, Jungkook throws back and wiggles his hips one last time. You growl and try to snatch him by lifting your head, but he moves away. Your eyes meet. He looks so full of mischief and entertainment. The giggles he lets out are indicator enough just how much he enjoys being a little brat tonight. And you can’t even be mad at him, because he is in charge and can do whatever he wants. Oh, you are crazy for this man. 

“Once I’m free again, you’ll see what this gets you”, you mumble and huff out air. 

“Mhm okay”, he purrs and grins. Then he turns away again. He arches his back and lowers himself to your pussy.

“Bunny”, you gasp, arching into him. This feels like heaven. His mouth is so warm and wet, his lips are so soft. 

Jungkook grips your hips and tilts them up, moaning around your clit as he sucks on her needily. He moves his head as he sucks, rubbing his cute nose through your folds as best as the position allows him to.

“Yes Bunny. Fuck, that feels so good.”

He loves sixty-nining with you so much. Bear in mind, his favourite variation of the position is when he is tied up, blindfolded and plugged up while you smother him and suck his cock. This is what really gets him going, but this right now is heaven as well. You taste like lube again, but Jungkook cleans it off within a few seconds. Then your unfiltered, raw taste coats his tongue and Jungkook finds himself moaning around your clit even louder.

“Holy fuck, please don’t stop.”

Jungkook doesn’t know if he could stop again. You taste so good that he feels dizzy. He wanted to edge you with his mouth one more time and then make you cum with the vibrator, but he doesn’t know if he has the strength to do that. Jealousy stings in his chest when he thinks about making you climax with a toy. He doesn’t want the toy to be the thing which sends you off. He wants to be the one making you see stars. He wants you to fall silent in bliss because of his mouth and not because of a stupid toy.

Jungkook growls into you and furrows his brows. It’s decided then. The toy won’t get your orgasm, never ever. He will make you cum with his mouth. Yes, that’s it.

“I’m close”, you get out and whimper, “please Jungkook, don’t edge me anymore.”

You aren’t aware that your begging is useless. Jungkook already made up his mind. He is going to make you cum. He growls around your clit, sucking it between his lips harshly. And he keeps it right there, suckling on it with his cock throbbing in his slacks. So good. You taste so good.

“Jungkook”, you mewl, sounding so utterly ruined, “Jungkook, you’re making me cum.”

He whimpers, dimpling your hips as he grips them harder.

“Ah”, you let out and then grow silent.

Jungkook mewls at the realisation, concentrating all of his attention on the spot which made you go silent.

“Fuck. Now”, you press out and thrust your hips up. The knot in your tummy bursts, the hottest orgasm takes a hold of you, “Jungkook”, you moan loudly, shaking uncontrollably. As much as you hate to admit it, you are glad that he edged you because this is paradise. You haven’t felt your climax as deeply as you do right now in ages. This is the kind of high which genuinely makes your toes curl and which makes your muscles go limb.

Jungkook licks you through it, keening in a high pitched voice as his head pounds in pleasure. This was the best decision ever. You feel so good when you are climaxing on his tongue. He can barely stop himself after your high died down, whimpering your name as he kisses your pussy over and over again. 

“Well shit, holy shit. Fuck”, you get out in breathy pants for air. Your body refuses to move, your head is turning. You feel so goddamn fulfilled. This was incredible.

Jungkook guides his kisses up your torso, crawling off of you gradually. He grabs your face and kisses you in the unfamiliar position. With your heads facing opposite directions, he has to suck on your upper lip.

You snicker and moan. It never gets boring with him. 

“Hm”, Jungkook hums and breaks the kiss with a cute smile. He runs his thumbs over your cheeks, gazing down at you. 

“Did you like this?” he asks.

“I loved it.”

“Then you have to thank me.”

You lift your brows, “really?”

“Yeah”, he says in a giggle, nodding his head.

“Wow okay”, you smile fondly, “thank you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook snickers and scrunches his nose up, “you’re welcome”, he says and pulls your face into a big smooch. 

Just once because then he sits up and runs his hands to your tied wrists. He opens the ropes and handcuffs, picking up your freed wrists to caress them gently.

“Does anything hurt?” he asks.

“No, nothing hurts.”

“Good”, he rolls circles into the tender inner side of your wrists, “you kept twisting the ropes”, he says and sends you a boyish grin.

“I did not”, you lie, making him snicker.

“Yes, you did. Admit it, you were really desperate.”

“Mhm yeah I was”, you admit happily, basking in the giddy giggles he lets out. 

You sit up and turn around. Now you are both kneeling, facing each other. You run your hands up his thighs, waist and chest until you can cup his cheeks. Jungkook squirms because of the touch.

“You did an amazing job, Bunny”, you praise him, “I was only that desperate because I felt safe.”

“Mommy”, he whimpers, gripping your wrists, “this is everything I wanted you to feel. I’m so happy.” 

“I’m happy too, my love”, you tell him and lean in to kiss his cheek, “good job, my love.” 

Jungkook giggles and hugs you, swaying your bodies from side to side enthusiastically.

“Oh Mommy, I’m so happy”, he confesses, squeezing you gently, “and, and now I’ll take you out for dinner and, and treat you to yummy dessert.”

“Yeah? What about your cock? You’re so hard in your slacks”, you say, running your hand up and down his bulge.

“I want to go out with it”, he talks breathily because of the touch, “you can do whatever you think is right to do. In the restaurant or the car or, or wherever you think is fitting.”

You smirk, “mhm okay”, you purr, kissing his neck gently, “so I take it that order has been restored, mhm?”

He giggles and nods his head, “yes Mommy.”

[spdrvyn]

WHY DON'T WE CALL IT FOR WHAT IT IS? — [ post-atsv. spider-reader. wc 1.4k ] you and miguel are dating in secret. neither of you are a fan of pda, so he shows as much as he can in private.

Your participation in the Society recently was bordering on mediocre. In your defense, your other job has been keeping you occupied. Of course, living with Miguel still means that you can see him a lot. A privilege that the other measly spiders can not afford, but you.

However, Miguel was on another strike mission in a never seen before spider dimension. From the details he told you, it was a world blanketed in snow and ice. It required very specific agents to accomplish and knowing him, he volunteered himself to go with too.

Once you were free from your shift, you anxiously waited near the console. Only occasionally leaving to grab a snack and go to the bathroom, as each minute passed the more nervous you became.

Miguel left early in the morning, bidding you farewell with a kiss on your forehead that you were still way too groggy for. It was late in the evening now and there was no sign of him or his team.

Your mind started to wander, passing scenarios of what you wished could happen once you finally saw him. You would leap at him with your arms spread to prepare for his warm embrace, you would pepper kisses all across his handsome face and he'd flush under the attention. Unfortunately, you could only dream that would happen.

As much as possible, both you and Miguel have been trying to keep your relationship private. Not for any life-threatening or intensely serious reasons, but it was for both of your comfort. You liked the intimacy that came with keeping everything private, knowing that whatever you had between each other was just for you. Miguel thought the same, he was the one who suggested it after all.

Still, that fact hindered you. Your jobs and his entailed long nights away from each other and when you finally reunited or even had more than ten minutes to just be, you couldn't act on your true desires because you would be in the eyes of other people.

"Hey. A dollar for your thoughts?" Margo chimed, her iridescent hologram brought a soothing glow to the dark oranges and yellows of the console room.

"Isn't it a penny for your thoughts?"

"Well, they've had to up the prices. You know, inflation." You couldn't tell if she approached you because she noticed how deep in thought you appeared to be or if she too was riding on waves of boredom. Nevertheless, a distraction would probably help.

"Who are you waiting for exactly?" Margo turned her back to you for a second and flickers on her own screens, nearly in the same fashion Lyla does. Only they look more purple as opposed to dandelion.

"Miguel. He wanted to talk to me about a - progress report and I think the mission he went on overlapped with that meeting."

She chortled at your hesitation, the sound increased when you mentioned your reasoning. "I didn't know he did those kinds of reports. You must be special, huh?"

"They're, uh, you have to ask for them."

Over time, you were able to develop a skill where you can pull any sort of lie out of your ass. That was mostly because you used to only be interrogated by Peter B. (he still does it) and he was pretty easy to shut down. Ask about his daughter and all of that, crisis averted.

But this was different. It was a teenager you were talking to, if you were her age in her position right now, you would also be trying to pry as much as you could and tell all your friends about what you heard.

"You asked for it? You're stronger than me, for sure."

Miguel isn't that bad- No. Miguel can be professional about it- No. Miguel is my boyfrieeeend- No!!

"Gotta build that emotional endurance too, you know?" You lied through your teeth, this was your true emotional endurance test. You just prayed that literally anything else could happen so that you could move on from this point in the conversation.

That was when you saw it. A miracle. A message from God. That familiar vortex of colors, that familiar bright red arm blade.

"Well, speak of the devil. Good luck with your meeting!" Margo remarked before she webbed to another side of the console, she looked busy. Maybe trying to look busy.

Miguel looked a little worse for ware, and so did the spiders following behind him. You glued yourself in place to keep from immediately checking for any injuries, but you're confident that the look on your face completely gave you away.

When the portal closed, he swiftly faced his team. "Good work on the strike mission. Make sure to get some rest in before sending in your reports. Contact me, Jess, or Peter if you need anything else."

What he intended as a compliment or two sounded slightly tense coming out of his mouth, you were a bit of a long-standing Society member so after The Spot happened, you could tell he was trying more at boosting morale. Even though his scowl and tone of voice sort of eradicated the kindness in what he actually meant, you found it cute that he tried anyway.

Everyone quickly dispersed, some left in pairs, some hopped into a portal straight to what seemed to be their home dimension. From where you were standing, you could see Miguel's shoulders sag in relief. His mask dissipated to reveal his worn out mug and he immediately turned to walk over to you.

You could tell he wanted to fold. Leave all of today's remaining problems to the Miguel of tomorrow, crawl into your loving embrace, and lay in dormancy until he would meet his fate again.

"Miguel," You initiate. "Is it time for my meeting now?"

There was no meeting. He probably had no idea what you were talking about, but he did at the same time. His steely, jaded disposition gave way to the warm, homely lover you have always known. He nodded, the moment you two stepped inside the apartment, he hugged you.

~

Over the course of your relationship with Miguel, he had taken you out to a good amount of luxurious fine dining restaurants. You were always extremely grateful, especially since he would refuse to let you pay even by a little. He's introduced a lot of new options and in return, you'd show him around the good food spots in your city too.

Yet, nothing could ever compare to a slow, home-cooked meal with just the two of you. Everything felt so intimate that way, you didn't have to worry about public appearances. Many meals being dished out with both you and Miguel in your pajamas.

Tonight was no different, of course. Miguel seemed more sluggish this time around, but you didn't mind picking more work than usual. You would have cooked for him yourself, but you had a feeling that he'd fight you for that.

Dinner had fallen into a comfortable silence this time, your relationship has gotten to the point where there was no obligation to make conversation. Sometimes, Miguel would burst into drawn-out rambles about how his day went and you'd listen intently. Except now, he's too tired to even speak.

After putting the dishes away and performing night routines, a movie in bed would be the perfect conclusion to such a peaceful night.

Nueva York was colder compared to your city, you complained about it to him multiple times so now Miguel usually keeps more than one blanket on the bed now. Honestly, you said it because you liked being snug in his arms when you slept with him. Not in that way.

Miguel's head rested on the column between your shoulder and neck, he weighed you down onto the memory foam mattress with a leg over both of yours and his arms snaked around your torso.

From your peripherals, you could see him gazing up at you. His attention stolen by your face, merlot hued eyes that traced every line, curve, and detail.

"Migs," You smiled back at him. "What are you gawking at?"

Bashfully, he turned his face inward with the hint of a grin at the upturned corners of his lips. It made your heart pounce, the idea that you especially had the privilege of seeing him so tender and shy.

No psychic could have foreseen you living your life like this right now, the same could be said for Miguel too. You didn't force him into this, batter him down to be all soft and mushy. It was because he knew, he finally knew from the way you stayed and loved him through the thick and thin, that he was finally safe and those walls crumbled.

The warmth from his kisses travelled all the way up to your ear. There, he whispered to you a promise, a declaration.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

awwww!!!! miguel!!!!!! anyway hii, been a while since i've uploaded a proper fic so here it is! i hope you guys enjoyed this one because i had a lot of fun writing it :-)

[shu-box-puns]

Do you think it takes Spider ages to realise he was adopted?

Simply because he has that child ignorance that means he is blind to the obvious cues that Tsu'tey isn't his biological Dad. As in it literally didn't even occur to him that he and his Dad might be completely different species? That he just had that good of a childhood, where everyone was super understanding and lovely about his situation, that it doesn't even occur to him that he was different.

(Side note: he once very seriously asked Tsu'tey (age 6) why he had no stripes like Neteyam and Kiri, and Tsu'tey who scrambled because he didn't want to tell Spider he was adopted yet, fabricated this long winded story that Uncle Jake dropped him as a baby and all his stripes fell off, and that they would takes ages to fade back in on their own, and that was why he and Tsu'tey needed to paint them back on when they faded. I can just imagine Spider avoiding Uncle Jake like the plague or giving him mistrustful side eyes on play dates and Jake is distraught that his nephew suddenly doesn't like him for no apparent reason. Meanwhile, Tsu'tey of course is having a field day fucking with him.)

Anyway, as far as Spider is concerned he can climb the trees just as fast as Lo'ak. Can shoot a bow well enough that even Neytiri seems to approve of his progress. He can forage in the forests solo, knowing exactly which plants to avoid, and is able to get into smaller nooks and crannies to get the hidden fruits that the other kids his age can't fit into. In every sense of the phrase, he grew up as one of the People.

Hear me out, because most of us grow up believing that everything about our families is normal until we see how other family units work. So kid!Spider probably doesn't realise he's not a Na'vi. Maybe with how Mo'at compares his stubbornness to Tsu'tey's, and how Jake says his bow work is coming along nicely which is to be expected of Tsu'tey's kid. Just characteristic similarities like that.

Maybe it doesn't even occur to Spider that his Dad is literally blue and nine feet tall. Maybe he just assumes he's a late bloomer and his stripes grow back eventually, and his kuru will come in with it. And where Tsu'tey needs a respirator to enter the human compounds, Spider needs an exo mask to actually go out into Pandora.

Just Spider getting more and more confused as he grows up and nothing changes. Another birthday goes by, and he looks at himself in the mirror, only to be disappointed that he looks exactly the same as he did when he went to bed last night.

I can just see Spider getting worked up about it and finally going to ask Tsu'tey about it, who is just stunned that his cunning, quick thinking son didn't realise he was adopted.

Cue the much needed conversation where Tsu'tey reassures him that he loves him regardless of if he's a na'vi or not. And then a much needed night of movies in Spider's room in the compound, a cuddle and Spider's favourite meal.

[mythalism]

keeping track of all of these damn dragons like its my full time job. lets go

several of the dragons horns clearly correspond to the evanuris symbols/statues we’ve seen in several murals, trailers and in the gameplay reveal, while others are total wildcards.

in the gameplay trailer, we see this dragon the most frequently. this dragon’s horns don’t match any of the evanuris symbols, but it appears when morrigan is speaking and doesn’t seem aggressive to the characters in the moments we see, only ever breathing fire in the open air, so i would assume this is mythal.

its the same dragon from the cover art for the game:

it’s also somewhat similar to flemythal’s dragon form in da2, though not exactly, and is similar to her iconique hair horns. the dragon in the trailer’s horns are less curved at the ends, and are a bit wider.

either this isn’t Mythal, it is Mythal and they just made some subtle stylistic changes and didn’t anticipate anyone as insane as me analyzing the horns, it’s someone completely different, or mythal’s dragon form has changed now that morrigan holds her soul. i cant really imagine it being anyone but mythal, as mythal's dragon form has been on every dragon age game cover in some form.

it’s worth noting that none of these dragons look anything like morrigans dragon form from inquisition, which has horns that curve downwards, though i think it's plausible that her form could change with the full soul of mythal:

then we have this dragon, which is thankfully straightforward:

this is elgarnan, with his horns being a perfect match of Elgar’nans symbol

next we have this creature which we see twice and doesn’t even have horns. a week ago i would have said this is ghilan'ain, because of the weird tentacles, the pustules on it's body that we saw all over the trailer, and the fact that it seems like a mash-up of creatures, almost like a griffon and a dragon, or some other lupine/feline/canine form and a dragon. however, now i'm not so sure, and ill explain why later on.

the second time, it's side by side with a new dragon whose horns match both andruil's symbol in the murals and on the statues, and in this image of andruil and ghilan'nain:

these horns are of course also similar to the very first dragon, but i dont think they're wide enough, and these go in an then out, while the others go out and then up. and the similarity makes sense in the context of andruil being mythal's daughter.

another reason i think this is andruil is because of the story of andruil wearing "armor made of the void", and the clear red lyrium and corruption literally oozing out of this dragon:

also worth noting is in the scene above on the right, we see a spear/pole fly out of the red dragon towards the screen.

we see this pole/spear earlier in the trailer, connected to ghilan'ain's elven (barely) body, along with what looks to literally be another body impaled by a spear?

if ghilly melded the corrupted body of her lover to her own to preserve it and then eventually brings her back as a blighted dragon so they can devour the world together, that will be the toxic yuri of all time, but that's a topic for another post. back to the dragons.

because now we've got another one to figure out.

as i said earlier, i would have originally clocked those red and blue creatures side by side as andruil and ghilan'nain, transforming from their freaky melded elven form and into dragon/archdemon form.

but then yesterday happened, and they dropped this bomb:

HER ARCHDEMON?

and then we see the "archdemon" in question:

which, frustratingly, we do not see AT ALL in the release date trailer, but you know where we did see it?

the original reveal trailer. hm.

the way the combat gameplay is edited would lead us to believe that this is ghilan'nain's archdemon, as the text says, but im not fully convinced this dragon is 1. an archdemon and 2. isn't on our side.

the dragon doesn't attack us in the gameplay, it literally just roars (at something else, not us, maybe ghil's creepy porcelain mask face off in the distance?) and then flies away. we also don't see it attack us in the reveal trailer, just this big, cinematic roar.

we also don't see any clear signs of blight or corruption on this dragon. it can be hard to tell as we've only seen one (confirmed) before and it was urthemiel back in those lovely 2009 origins graphics, but even still, he looks pretty crusty, and in line visually with what we see of darkspawn and blighted creatures such as black/red colors, generally gross looking, etc. same for this artwork of dumat:

additionally, everyone thought that corypheus's red lyrium dragon was an archdemon (instead of just a high dragon) because of how fucked up it looked.

i dont doubt that ghilly has an archdemon, but im not convinced that the dragon we see in the combat gameplay is it. it doesn't look blighted or corrupted in the way we have seen from actual archdemons and creatures mistaken for archdemons.

its possible that the gross-looking blue dragon hybrid creature we talked about earlier is ghilly's archdemon, and it's wreaking havoc on some other part of weisshaupt that we dont see in the footage, and they are trying to bamboozle us by showing us that other dragon.

these horns, of course, look a lot like morrigan's dragon horns from inquisition, which curl downwards in the same way.

but of course, the colors and other facial features dont really match.

you could also make the argument that these downturned horns match ghilly's downturned horn headpiece that we have seen a million times at this point, and maybe it really is that straightforward and that is "her archdemon". but if thats the case then what the hell is this freaky blue creature with similar tentacles and gross pustules (that are all over weisshaupt as she attacks it, so definitely associated with her) all over its body?

maybe both are affiliated with ghilan'nain? one is her little pet archdemon while the other is her own dragon form?

at this point im just throwing things at the wall to see what sticks. i have no clue who this damn dragon is.

what we do know:

we have seen 5 distinct dragon-like creatures in this game so far.

some of them are archdemons, some of them are evanuris shapeshifting into dragons, some of them are ???????? i'm at a loss, at this point. bioware, you win. "dragon age" indeed.

[darklinaforever]

All the posts being horrified at people shipping Edwin with the Cat King make me laugh.

The delirium of being alarmed because the Cat King would be an adult and Edwin a minor kills me with laughter.

Edwin is certainly a 16 year old ghost, but... it's all in his description. A ghost. And he's been a ghost for a long, long time.

Are you telling me that he hasn't had time to evolve in all these years, and especially since his traumatic stay in hell ?

A little logic please. Edwin does not remain at the same point as when he died, frozen forever. He’s a character with an arc and development. And then, you're not telling me that Edwin behaves like a typical immature teenager ?!

And the Cat King may be thousands of years old but he behaves very immature most of the time. In fact, you could even say like a teenage form. Objectively speaking, he does not appear morally very different from the other official adolescent characters in the show.

And then, this kind of consideration of age will always make me laugh, when we are essentially talking about two supernatural beings ! Conclusion : We don’t care about their age difference !

And let's not even talk about those who are angry with this bracelet story, while I still point out that it was literally a punishment for Edwin having performed an equivalent in terms of spell on one of his cats, with Edwin having himself been quite condescending about this / these animals about how they all look alike to him.

The bracelet is a consequence and punishment for Edwin's actions.

It's not for nothing that the Cat King tells Edwin exactly the line he told him about not seeing the evil in a little spell.

Then... accusing the Cat King of being a sexual and other abuser, as well as a potential rapist... Wtf ?

Already, it's forgotten that clearly, during the scene and all the others where the Cat King tried to seduce Edwin... Well our dear ghost seemed more than appreciative.

For those who don't understand, the Cat King is literally what allows Edwin to finally embrace his sexuality ! Without Cat King, probably no love confession to Charles !

And in fact, it's a good thing that Cat King was interested in Edwin and showed interest in him, tried to seduce him, etc. It's not negative in his purpose. Edwin is this guy who is quite stuck while the Cat King is very extroverted and helps to unblock our ghost.

It makes me laugh even more to see all these people screaming in defense of Edwin, his physical integrity, etc, while our ghost boy... well he clearly wouldn't have been against kissing the Cat King and maybe even more at the beginning.

Need to watch their scenes again properly... Edwin's body language doesn't show that he's uncomfortable.

Okay maybe he is, but in the sense that the Cat King reminds him of his lack of experience, but beyond that, very clearly, in general, around the Cat King, (except when he takes the appearance of Charles, obviously he feels uncomfortable in that moment) Edwin seems simply extremely attracted to the Cat King / receptive to his advances :

Same with all those people being mad that the Cat King forced Edwin to tell the truth.

I repeat... THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE POSITIVE FOR EDWIN ! THIS ALLOWS HIM TO EVOLVE ON HIMSELF !

I'm not saying that the Cat King behaves morally (as for offering Edwin to sleep with him in exchange for his freedom before offering to count the cats, or forcing him by magic to reveal what he really thinks), not at all. He is clearly a form of antagonist / anti-hero, neither good nor bad, and finally rather neutral in the plots of the show.

But this character and actions essentially only serves the positive evolution of Edwin's character regarding everything related to sexuality, but not just that, also his emotional relationships with other men AKA Charles. Again, without the Cat King Edwin probably wouldn't have confessed his feelings to Charles. So the Cat King essentially allows Edwin to fully embrace who he is as an individual, his complete identity.

And it's nothing new that a morally questionable character with morally questionable actions has this kind of role in relation to the protagonist.

Seriously, the antagonist who allows the hero's sexual awakening, as well as its deepening on itself is as old as time. Even more so when this antagonist and hero share similar characteristics such as their loneliness.

Besides, it's not for nothing that the first real kiss that Charles gives himself to someone is to the Cat King (especially after all this talk about kissing and Edwin finally understanding their appeals), even if it's on the cheek that still a kiss. A second kiss more precisely, which he gives on his own and which is much better than his first with the crow.

Crying foul about this makes me wonder what universe these people who are complaining live in as for the codes of fiction. Again, people who cannot see beyond the surface should not be allowed to open their mouths.

[prazinos]

Hello!

Can I request Ajax with female siren reader. Like she has crush on him and he kinda see her in her like.. mermaid form and everything else is up to you (romantic nsfw)

This was actually really cute and I hope you think so too anon!

Scales

Summary: After hearing a rumour that Ajax had a crush on you, you needed to clear your head. Thank god you weren’t the only one out after curfew.

WARNINGS ! ~ Minors DNI | Smut | Fingering {F} | Palming {M} | Public sex | PiV | Fluff

Ajax had been mentioned in your secret journal at least one hundred times according to Enid. But she was dramatic so, who cares what she thinks?

You care. You care what she thinks. In this exact moment because you quite literally cannot believe what she’s telling you.

Enid practically ran to your dorm. She had heard a rumour that Ajax, THE AJAX has a crush on you, YOU.

That’s how you got here, freaking out, not knowing if it was just a rumour or not, although it was probably a rumour with your luck.

Enid left your dorm after a needed freak out and you had decided to go down to the lake so you could relax in the water.

Although you weren’t like other sirens, with your Y/E/C eyes and dark green tail, the sirens treated you like you weren’t different, and you appreciated that.

As you stepped into the water and felt your legs begin to turn into your tail you dove into the water. Allowing your thoughts to drift away as you felt home in the water.

After a while you decided that it was getting late and you didn’t need another detention for staying out after curfew. You knew Bianca would cover for you but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

As you pushed yourself onto the deck and started to dry your tail (legs?) you heard footsteps approaching you, you turned around to see the same snake headed boy you were desperately crushing on.

He waves a bit awkwardly and sat next to you, dangling his legs about the water.

You noticed that he kept glancing at your tail as you dried it. Mind you, you’ve had tons of children try and touch your tail before their parents pull them away telling them not to talk to freaks like you.

‘Touch it if you want, I don’t care’ you said patting your leg dry.

He hesitated before poking your tail. You give him a look before he places his hand on it. Feeling the scales. You smiled internally at his face. He looked like a kid in a candy shop.

‘It’s so beautiful. You’re so beautiful’ he mumbles. You blush what feels like an insane amount, he thinks you’re beautiful. He thinks your tail is beautiful.

You brushed his hand off patting dry the final stubborn patch of scales.

Stretching your legs out you pick up your lotion, you hate how dry your legs get after they transform back to, well, legs.

You start to rub the lotion up and down your left leg as for some reason it’s always the most dry.

‘So why exactly are you out here?’ You ask not taking your eyes off your legs.

‘I was hoping we could talk’

‘About?’

‘You’ve probably heard the rumours I suppose?’

‘About you being madly in love with me? Ajax how could I not’

He laughs looking down at his hands, picking at the nails.

‘They aren’t rumours you know’

You look up at him to see him blushing. Your eyes widen as you realise he’s not bullshitting you.

‘What’

‘I wanted to tell you and then somebody overheard me and Wednesday talking about you and started telling people’ Ajax said looking down at his hands once more

‘Oh’

‘Just oh?’

‘Well, I just don’t know how to react, I mean of course I’ve had a crush on you for like ages but I didn’t think you actually liked me back’

‘Can I-um, can I kiss you?’ Ajax asked not taking his eyes off his hands.

You reach out to his jaw moving his head so he faces you, you lean in, still not kissing him yet Incase he changed his mind. He fills the gap and you don’t think you’ve ever felt softer lips.

You move your body facing him properly and he moves his hands from his lap to come around your waist, he lifts you up (were all stoners secretly strong?) and places you in his lap, lips never breaking contact. Your hands wrap around his neck and deepen the kiss.

You honestly wish you had hair to pull on but, you can’t really pull on snakes without them biting you, huh.

The jacket he was wearing would fill your desire to pull on something. As you pull him down backwards (slowly) so you were lying down, you could feel his cock harden in his jeans. You removed one of your hands from his jacket and moved it down and palmed his cock through his pants.

He let out a moan at the contact, you broke the kiss looking at him, his eyes were hooded, desperately trying to keep eye contact with you.

You continued to palm him through his pants as he let out whimpers and moans.

‘Please Y/N, please stop im gonna cum’ he whispered.

You stopped and when you did, he must have gained some confidence as he leaned down and started to bite your neck before soothing it with his tongue. You knew he was going to leave marks but you could care less.

He pulled down your shorts and underwear, dragging a finger up the slick of your cunt.

‘Shit you’re so wet Y/N’ he mumbled before inserting a finger into your wet hole. He thrust it in and out before curling it to hit the spongey spot inside you.

Your back arched, pressing your boobs into his chest as he inserted a second finger.

‘Ajax, I need, I need your cock’ you mutter as you kissed his neck.

‘I don’t um, I don’t have a condom’ he said looking away from you.

‘I’m fine with it if you are’ you say, immediately he unzips his jeans and pushes them down just enough to reveal his cock. You were taken back by the size.

You’ve had sex with other guys before, only normies, and they were okay, mainly just taking what they wanted leaving you to finish yourself off.

And they all had average cocks ranging from 5-6 inches but Ajax was at least 7 inches, he was thick too. God you knew it would hurt but in the most delicious way possible.

You were right, it did hurt as he pushed the blunt tip into you, it felt like he was splitting you open, when he was in all the way he waited for your permission to move, rubbing your clit in hopes to relax you.

When you nodded, he pulled out nearly all of his cock before slamming it back inside you.

You couldn’t believe the places he was reaching. He kept pounding into you as you moaned

‘Shit Y/N you feel so good, fuck’

You couldn’t help but moan as he started to kiss your neck again while pounding into you.

You reached down to rub your clit but he slapped it away replacing your fingers with his own. Rubbing feverish, tight circles attempting to get you to your release.

Your back arched as he hit somewhere inside you that you didn’t even know existed. You let out a wanton moan and he groaned into your neck.

‘Ajax, Ajax I’m gonna cum’ you panted.

He somehow started fucking you even faster, desperate to have you reach your release.

‘Me too, fuck you’re so tight’ he whimpered into your ear. That threw you over the edge as your back arched once more.

You felt him release inside you not long after, his hips bucking into you his cum coating your inner walls.

He groaned into your neck as he pulled out. He moved from above you pulling his boxers and jeans up before pulling yours over your hips. He helped you stand up wrapping an arm around your waist.

Your legs felt like they would give out as they shook.

‘Holy shit i must be alright at fucking you if your legs are shaking’

‘Ajax, shut up’

He smiled as he helped you walk back to your dorm. Thankfully nobody was around to see you post sex.

You opened your dorm room giving Ajax one last peck.

‘Can I take you out to Jericho on the weekend? We could go to the um to the coffee shop’ he smiled nervously.

‘I’d really like that’ you responded just as nervously before Ajax smiled and turned to walk away. You closed the door and fist pumped a little.

You turned around to see Bianca looking at you expectedly. Shit.

A/N I feel like this was a bit shorter than my previous smuts so I apologise ! But I am working on more requests !

Please let me know if you enjoyed this by, Liking, Reblogging, or Commenting !

Thanks my loves <3

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Musing on Ages, & Dragon Prep

"Desire" mention - how much does Tensu know of the details of the origin of dungeons? (More than I do, probably...but I know this is thematically important.)

"Us"? Aren't gnomes another long-lived species? Ok this is going to be continuously relevant to the geopolitics so I need to break it down. From the wiki:

Elves: lifespan: 400; adult at 80

Gnomes: lifespan: 240; adult at 40

Dwarves: lifespan: 200; adult at 40

Tallmen: lifespan: 60; adult at 16

Orcs: lifespan: 55; adult at 14

Kobolds: lifespan: 55; adult at 13

Halffoots: lifespan: 50; adult at 14

I see - so really we're dealing with 3 factions: Elves, Gnomes & Dwarves, and Everyone Else. I find it interesting that the longer-lived races reach maturity at 17-20% of their average lifespan, while the younger-lived races all do so at around 25% of their average lifespan. I feel a little like this is a cop-out on the writer's part in trying to keep the ages of maturity a little closer to one another - though of course it's a cultural thing by each race (and, I'm sure, each culture within each race - idk how monolithic the whole comic will treat them, but it would track with the thematic worldbuilding for their to be multiple distinct social groups within each race, even if they do tent to band together against the other races!)

Based on the categories of "long-lived" and "short-lived", the latter seem to view all of the former as much the same - but I'm SURE the Elves have a different view of it, and I'm sure the Dwarves and, as we see here, Gnomes, are very aware of and irritated by the Elves' view.

...and as we see here, and earlier with Chilchuck admitting to being 29 (solidly middle-aged!) and Marcille going, "Aw, so you are a kid!", people rarely make any effort to understand each others relative ages, instead just coasting on their own life-based assumptions.

With reference to above, we can see that Namari at 61 is pretty exactly equivalent to Kaka and Kiki at 20.

Also: this little scene wasn't in the show at all and I love it! Namari in mentor mode!

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ALRIGHT RED DRAGON TIME!! Hey look, literally the 2nd panel in this ghost city is 2/3 winged lions by volume. Hmmm...

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I love how it's explicitly Shuro's job to get the final killshot, presumably because he has Feats for this (ie, cool-looking moments) as a "real" anime character (Easterner). This literally bears up with what we see of him in the future.

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Chilchuck: I will NOT fight!

Chilchuck: I'll totally be dragon bait with you, though.

Chilchuck: Not that I care if you succeed or survive or anything! I'm only here because you paid up front.

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Laios using the Inspiring Leader speech feat! They're all having a Heroes' Feast before fighting the dragon, a classic pre-dragon act for bonus HP and immunity to being Frightened! I know this isn't actually D&D but that post that I think came through my queue earlier today is right: it DOES have the same bones. It's like reading the Locked Tomb and being aware that this author was deep in Homestuck, or Scholomance vis a vis Harry Potter canon and fandom. I know where this writer has been, because I have been there too.

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THE BOY IS HERE! THE MAN THE MYTH THE OVERWORKED* LEGEND!

THIS SISTER-EATING MOTHERFUCKER!!

*Crack AU where the whole dragon fight is averted because it talks and somehow the conversation leads to Chilchuck going, "And the Mage isn't even letting you sleep? Tsk. You've got to start a union." And then Laios gets all starry-eyed, "A Monster Union?!" And then the Mage is eventually defeated by all the monsters of the dungeon, and also the poor sane ghosts as well, unionizing against him, and "king" becomes just the title for the Union Rep, whose main job is to honk an airhorn at presumptuous Elves and tell them to fuck off like a Canadian goose.

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I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

[mumms-the-word]

your tags about wyll being another disabled person standing up for stelmane... yeah. like all the characters have amazing links to disability like gale's orb, karlach's heart, astarion's hunger all being chronic illnesses essentially, shadowheart dealing with chronic pain, lae'zel i think is the only one without disability coding like that? but wyll being like obviously physically disabled in a different way to everyone else feels important. and the whole thing of overt physical disability being treated completely differently to invisible disability bc there is no way to hide so you're an obvious target (ask me how i know...) so yeah wyll. ugh 💜

I have MANY thoughts about the various disabilities in the game and the way that BG3 is ultimately a Search for a Cure game that dares to suggest “but what if you don’t want the cure? We have a path for that”

But yes to catch others up:

Wyll is physically disabled because he is missing an eye, so he is half blind (though for gameplay purposes we don’t see him with a debuff in accuracy or a lower movement range like we see with completely-blind Zanner Toobin)

Karlach has a chronic heart condition, her heart is a literal machine and it causes her a great deal of pain and discomfort and it will eventually kill her

Gale has the orb, it causes heart-pain/chest-pain-like aches and if left unaddressed will literally disabled him in terms of gameplay because he will slow down and all his attack/defense dice rolls take a hit

Shadowheart has the mark on her hand, which flares up at random and comes with a sharp pain. She also has amnesia, which can be considered a disability

Astarion has vampirism, which, depending on how you read it, is itself a kind of disability (though the tadpole negates a lot of the disabling parts of vampirism for him). I don’t read his hunger as chronic illness mostly because regular hunger isn’t chronic illness and he does find ways to manage his hunger; he is however traumatized and likely has a host of mental illnesses that I won’t diagnose him with, though CPTSD seems like the obvious low hanging fruit

Lae’zel’s only known disability or illness is the tadpole. And she treats it like a disabiltiy or an illness rather than an asset. Unlike others, she’s seeking to cure it, point blank, no negotiations

So the game is full of unexpected and intentional disability representation, even when actual disability isn’t like….actually affecting your gameplay. Sometimes it does, like with Gale, but often it doesn’t mess with your dice rolls or attack range or accuracy. The game just isn’t built for that.

But anyway you point is not about the gameplay. It’s about Wyll.

Wyll I think is interesting because out of the Core Six, he’s the only one comfortable with his disability. I think this is partly because it doesn’t cause him pain. (Pain is after all the Great Complicator in disability discussion.) Even when he turns into a devil, which would do wild things to his psyche, he takes it in stride. This might be bad writing or it might be intentional—physical difference just doesn’t fluster him

But anyway he’s so comfortable in his disability that he jokes with you when you join the “One Eye Club.” He speaks of Stelmane post-stroke as a survivor and a person of value. I imagine he doesn’t have much experience with chronic pain or chronic illness but he’s probably dealt with tons of injuries (look at all his scars) even at his young age. He’s an idealist, but I think he also speaks from experience when he says that Stelmane is “no less worthy of life or success because she is disabled”

I think he thinks the same of his friends. Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Lae’zel, even if they were able to cure their tadpoles or fix their conditions, he would find them no less valuable and worthy before or after their cures. I don’t think he always understands exactly the chronic pain/illness element but he would never ever say that a person is less worthy of simply living or succeeding or becoming a hero or becoming anything they want to be just because they have a disability or illness

Chalk it up to his idealism but I think that makes Wyll one of the more surprising and uplifting characters in the game, among his other surprising and uplifting characteristics. Like…he’s going to believe in you, no matter what. And he’s going to support you however he can. We see that with Karlach, and how much he would prefer his best friend live with her chronic illness in an environment that will lessen her pain than die. He’d probably give up his magic boots off his feet for Gale. He’d probably agree to fight Shar one on one to try and get her to stop plaguing Shadowheart with pain. He doesn’t want his friends to hurt, but he doesn’t think they’re less valuable or weak for hurting, you know?

Anyway we don’t deserve Wyll Ravengard

[vigilskeep]

With Bea being your potential canon Inquisitor, how would your protagonists feel about each other?

keir and minerva don’t easily trust each other. he sees someone manipulative and dangerous who is always acting for her own agenda and doesn’t take proper care of her own people. she sees exactly the kind of big heavily armed human man throwing threats and physical violence around that all her life experiences have taught her wariness and dislike for. they’re both very accustomed to being the scariest thing in the room and have a tendency to get territorial. however, they have ferelden in common (whatever keir’s other thoughts, he will always owe respect to the saviour of his homeland) and someone they love in common (whatever minerva’s other thoughts, she will always owe a helping hand to the person anders cares about, and who kept anders safe when she couldn’t be there). once they get to know each other and have some picture of why the other acts like they do, it’s not all bad. probably. eventually

keir always looks at beatrice and sees someone else. he sees his beloved sister, as the sheltered young andrastian noblewoman she might have been. he sees the sebastian who was once his friend, both his earnest kindness and his inclination for fanaticism. and he sees grand cleric elthina, a woman whose unassuming appearance never changed the amount of power she wielded and what a profound danger she was. he is never sure which of these is closest to the truth and it creates a mixture of protective sympathy and real fear he finds a little sickening. for her side, she finds him somewhat intimidating on a basic interpersonal level. which he... kind of fundamentally is, lmao. arguably they’re both free marcher nobles but they’re from such drastically different worlds of experience all the same. she gets most of her information on him from the excitement and romance of hushed gossip or varric’s stories. the reality has more harsher extremes than she would like. but she wants to believe he’s a hero and that they’re on the same side

minerva harbours particular dislikes of sickly-sweet earnestness, “overly” pious andrastians, warden hero worship, and people who simply have power drop into their lap and then don’t even have any idea what to do with it. beatrice is precisely a combination of those things. she is... not likely to be minerva’s favourite person in the world. however, on minerva’s return from wherever she is, she would forced to admit through gritted teeth that bea is not only genuinely well-intentioned but straightforwardly a political ally. she is literally going to be the one who legitimises the mage rebellion and ushers in the end of the circle of magi. on those grounds, minerva will contain herself from whatever the political equivalent is of unhinging her jaw like a snake and eating the poor girl alive. she would kind of be visibly containing herself from doing that if they ever met and it would be a pretty unsettling experience for everyone involved. bea is at present blissfully unaware of all that and continues to think of minerva as a great warden hero and would hotly defend her against any heinous rumours of blood magic and involving herself in politics more than wardens should

(bea’s perspective needs the most work here because she’s newer. i’m also working with current bea, as in, early game dai bea the bright-eyed idealist who believes andraste has chosen her. she definitely believes in heroes—in a fun, weirdly meta, a little self-important way, she’s probably very aware of the idea of herself, minerva, and keir as the three “protagonists” of the dragon age so far. i think the bea we end up with by trespasser might have a very different take on the other two after she ends up with a very different take on herself, but i haven’t gotten there yet. i suspect that at great personal cost she may even develop a personality minerva would find bearable to be around 😭)

[sxxythingz]

Let me show you

Lo’ak Sully (21) x Na’vi fem! Reader (21)

Warnings: smut, p in v, breeding kink, cursing, cream pie, mentions of cheating, aged up characters

Summary: After some time of dating while you were human, you decided that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Lo’ak so you became Na’vi. You didn’t realize that while you were still human, he wasn’t exactly faithful to you until one day you catch him in the act. After you decide to leave him, he figures out a way to make it up to you.

WC: 5.0K (I didn’t realize it was that many words guys I swear)

🛑MDNI🛑

“Get your hands off of me, I am done!” You yell as you snatch your arm out of Lo’ak’s hand, storming through the forest as tears threaten to fall from your eyes. “Wait y/n, just let me explain! Come on, don’t be like this.” He says as he follows behind you while you quickly paste through the forest, far away from his hut.

“No! There is nothing to explain Lo’ak! I caught you with yet another girl. What is this, like the 5th girl in the past few weeks?” You abruptly come to a sudden halt and stand in front of him with your arms folded. He looks at you, defeat in his eyes and he huffs loudly. “I’m sorry, ok? I won’t do it again. It was a mistake y/n, I swear!” He says and you chuckle as you throw your hands into the air. “Cheating on me 5 different times is a mistake? Have you lost your mind, is that what you really think in your head? That this was all a mistake?” A broken giggle leaving your throat to stop you from crying as you run your hands through your soft, loose braids.

“No. I’ll tell you what the mistake was. The mistake was permanently transferring into an avatar just to be with you! There’s no telling what you were doing while I wasn’t here and I regret ever even knowing you.” You shoot him a cold glare as you see the heartbreak cloud his face. “Y/n… you don’t mean that. Don’t say that, just come on. Let me-“ he protests as he tries once again to grab you, but you back up before shaking your head quickly.

“You didn’t even deny being with other girls while I was still human… I thought you loved me, I thought you were my mate, that we would be together forever and build a family together. I did this so we could bond properly, I have no one here except for you and your family. I gave all of myself to you and you continue to pretend that I don’t exist. I just can’t do this anymore Lo’ak. We are done.” You spit at him before you turn around and begin walking off to prevent him from seeing the tears that have begun treading down your hot face.

About 2 months have gone by since you and Lo’ak have broken up and you’ve not sure how you are even surviving at this point. You’ve realized just how much time you guys have spent together since you’ve met, never really parting from each other for too long. After all of the years that you two have spent together, walking past each other as if you don’t know who the other is has to be the hardest part of it all. You’ve left your family and friends on earth, making his family, friends and everyone in the lab the only people that you have left, but it’s just not the same as having him. As hard as it has been without him, you know that going back would be pointless because he’s just going to do the same thing as before.

Who am I kidding? You think to yourself as you scoff aloud. He's probably already in another relationship with someone else right now. You walk through the forest, searching for Kiri since you don’t really feel like being all alone. Today would’ve been you and Lo’ak’s 6 month anniversary and people always say time heals all wounds. To you, it quite literally felt like the opposite since you have been dealing with all of the other anniversaries all alone, but it seems that the further out you guys would’ve been together, the worst you feel.

“Kiri!” You yell out as you finally find her in the middle of the forest, playing with the leaves that light up. “Y/n! Where have you been? I have not been able to find you all day.” She says as she gets up and runs into your arms, embracing you with a tight, warm hug. Ever since you’ve gotten here, way before you became an avatar, Kiri has also become one of your best friends, especially considering that she was nearly your family before Lo’ak messed that up.

“I’ve just been walking around. I’ve had a lot on my mind today, you know.” You say as you both begin to walk together. “It’s you guys' 6 month anniversary isn’t it?” She asks and you give her a look of confusion as to how she would remember it when she didn’t even know what day you guys had made it official. “Lo’ak was telling me and Neteyam about it earlier this morning before he and Neteyam went off to training.” She confesses to you and your heart drops at the fact that he even remembered.

“I see.” Your head falls down as you think of how you guys could’ve spent this day together had he not been such a fucking cheater. “He is really broken up still about you guys. Father gets so upset with him because he hasn’t been paying attention during training. We hear about it every single night after they return by father yelling at him.” She says as she rolls her eyes.

“Well that isn’t my fault nor my problem. He’s the reason why we aren’t together anymore, he just couldn’t get himself together and it wasn’t that hard. I have no sympathy for him.” You speak in a low tone, causing her to giggle at your aggression towards him. “He won’t stop talking about how sorry he is and how much he regrets it. It is actually quite pitiful. I asked him why he won’t just tell you that instead of us, he says it is because you won’t hear it.” She says and you let out a small chuckle as you nod your head.

“I gave him plenty of chances Kiri. I excused him the first 4 times that he consecutively cheated on me. I have nothing left in me anymore to give to him. I gave it all away and he just keeps hurting me.” You feel the tears begin to come up while you try your hardest to swallow them back down, but you fail miserably. Kiri glances over to you as she sees the tears begin to flow and she stops, turning you towards her as she wipes the tears off of your heated face.

“Hey, don’t cry. I know what he did was wrong and so does he. Neteyam scolded him for it because he knows how good of a girl you are. You are amazing and we all see it. You know what will cheer you up?” She asks you and you shake your head, looking into her eyes for the answer. You wanted anything to get rid of this dreadful, empty feeling forming deep inside of you. “Let’s go to the lab and see what those skxawngs are up to, hm?” She says, you smile as you nod your head. She grabs your hand and begins walking towards the lab.

You walk into the lab, grabbing masks, wrapping them around your necks as you both inhale deeply in sync before dropping them down to hang around your necks. “Y/n, Kiri. What are you guys up to?” Norm asks as you come and sit next to him while he scrolls on the computer. “Trying to cheer my y/n up. She is feeling a little down today.” Kiri tells him as he looks at you. “It’s the anniversary isn’t it?” He asks you with a sympathetic look, you feel your eyes automatically rolling as you realize. “Let me guess. Lo’ak has told you too, hasn’t he?” You ask him and he laughs a little before looking back at his computer. “He came in yesterday, super upset about it and talking about-“

“How much he regrets it and he wishes he could apologize.” You cut him off to finish his sentence off for him, already knowing exactly what he’s going to say as you watch him nod his head as he chuckles. “You know, if he’s this torn up about it, then why won’t he just tell me about it directly?” You ask as you shake your head in frustration. Norm’s eyes land on you then towards the door as his eyes widen. “Well he might be able to.” He says as you look in the direction that he is looking and spot Lo’ak standing there, his eyes burning holes into your back before you turned around.

“Hi y/n.” He mumbles out as he stands in the doorway as if his feet are stuck in one place. “No.” You mumble as you quickly get up and try to walk away, but he gets in front of you, making you hiss at him. “Just wait. I heard what you said. You said that if I was really that torn up about it, then why wouldn’t I just tell you directly? But you have to give me that chance to do it. Please? All I need is a few minutes.” He begs of you and you roll your eyes.

“Norm? Would you be so kind to set a timer on your phone for 10 minutes?” You ask him as you quickly look back at him, your hair swinging with your movement, hitting Lo’ak in his chest. “Uh.. Done!” He shouts back at you with a thumbs up after setting the timer on his phone and you nod your head before looking back at Lo’ak. “You have 10 minutes, and I’m being generous with that. Come.” You say as you walk towards the door of the lab while he trudges behind you thinking of the perfect words to say. You both walk out of the lab and deeper into the forest before you suddenly come to a stop and stand in front of him. “What do you have to say?” You ask as you fold your arms.

“I-I’m sorry for what I have done. I love you so much more than I thought was possible. It’s been so hard without you and this sucks. I realize what I’m doing wrong and I know that I have hurt you. No, I can’t take it back, but I can promise to do better and cut out the things that hurt you. I can promise to be good for you and to you. I can be the mate that you want out of me. I see that you have completely changed your life for me, you’ve become one of us just for me and I am so thankful for that. I want to show you the right way that I appreciate you and just how happy you make me.”

You feel hot tears forming in your eyes at his words, oh how you wish they were real. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe coming from me right now and I accept that, but just give me one more chance please.” He confesses to you and you look down at the ground, wanting to scream at him. Wanting to tell him how much you hate him, wanting to tell him how much you’ve needed him, how lonely you’ve been without him by your side, but you hold it all in.

“No Lo’ak. It’s-it’s just not that easy. As much as I want to forgive you, as much as I want you to do right for me. I just can’t believe you because you’re telling me you’ll change. I can’t take anymore heartbreaks, it’s tearing me apart.” A tear falls down down your cheek, triggering him to step closer to you. You back up as you look at him, watching his eyes become glossy before you stop and let him continue to step towards you.

“Please y/n. I know it’s hard. I’m trying so hard to tell you how much I love you and if you’ll just give me another chance, I can show you. No more cheating, no more playing games, no more breaking your heart. I just want to make up for what I’ve done so please just let me do that. I’m begging you. What can I do to show you that I’m serious?” He asks you as he places his hands on both sides of my face and more tears begin to stream down your face as you shake your head, not having an answer for him. “How about I show you tonight?” He asks you and you look into his yellow eyes, silently questioning his words.

“Let me make it special. This is not the way that I want to ask you to forgive me so please let me show you tonight. Meet me at the spirit tree right as eclipse falls.” You slowly nod your head, not sure of why you’re even agreeing after you said you were done. “Ok I’ll see you then. I promise I’ll make it right.” He says before he gently rubs your face one last time before letting go of it and walking off, leaving your cheeks to feel as cold as ice without his warm touch.

You place a purple flower in your hair before readjusting your purple loincloth that matches the flower in your hair. You walk out of your hut, looking into the sky to see the moon that just began to appear in the sky. You let out a small sigh before you begin to walk in the direction of the spirit tree. You question why you agreed to such a stupid thing, why you won’t just turn back around and not even show up, but your feet deceive your mind as you continue to walk towards the spirit tree. You said that you wouldn’t go back, that you were done, so why are you even giving him a chance to explain?

I’m so stupid, I know, but I love him so much. It’s so hard to walk away from him. But I have to and I have to tell him that tonight. That I truly meant what I said and that I am done for good. I have to move on and find someone who is good for me, who loves me and who dares not to treat me like an option. You think to yourself as you get closer and closer to your destination.

You approach the spirit tree and your mouth drops at the beauty of it. You’ve only been to the spirit tree once and that was to transfer your soul into your avatar body, so this is your first time truly observing it in its true beauty. You look down and see Lo’ak standing up as he begins to walk towards you as you come to a stop, waiting for him to meet you.

“Wow. You look… beautiful. I’ve never seen you in purple, it makes your skin glow.” He says as he comes inches away from you and you feel yourself smile as you look at the ground, your cheeks burning and your heart skipping a beat. “Thank you.” To both of your surprises, you accept the compliment as you retract your eyes back to him and you feel him grab your hand. “Come.” He says as he walks you to the spirit tree.

“It’s beautiful.” You say to him as you walk around the tree, paying attention to every small detail about it. “This is where we come to connect to our ancestors and the souls of those who have passed away. It’s a sacred place.” He informs you as you turn around and look at him. “Why did you bring me here?” You question his motives as you slowly sway towards him. “Since this is the most sacred place on pandora, I wanted to bring you here for something very sacred if you would allow me.” You raise your eyebrows at his response as you watch him grab his queue and bring it in front of him.

“Before I messed everything up, I know that you wanted to make tsaheylu (bond) and I know that you might not want to anymore, but if you do then I am more than happy to do it. I promise to never hurt you again, I promise to always put your needs first. I promise to be the mate that you always wanted and I’ll do anything to make you happy. In these 2 months, I realize how hard it is being without you and I never want to experience this again. I love you, Y/n. Please forgive me?” Desperation clouding his voice as he stares into your eyes, looking for the forgiveness that he’s asking for. “I-“ You try to speak, but you feel the tears coming as you watch him watch you, his eyes quickly pacing back and forth.

“I-I can’t-” You don’t finish your sentence as you watch him drop his queue in defeat, his head dropping as well. You step closer to him and look at him as he looks into your eyes. “I can’t be without you Lo’ak. I have tried in these 2 months, and it’s been the hardest thing that I have ever done. I don’t want to be without you Lo’ak, but I don’t want to be hurt anymore. All I’ve ever wanted was you from the moment that I met you. It will take a lot.. but I’m willing to work on us and build together. I can’t say that I forgive you right now Lo’ak, but I want you to prove to me that I am all that you want so that I can forgive you. So that we can move on.” You say back to him as you reach behind you, grabbing your queue and placing it in between you guys, causing him to smile and grab his once again.

He grabs your hand and pulls you down to sit right across from each other as you slowly bring your queues closer until they finally connect. You feel your body jolt as your eyes flutter shut, a sensation running through your body as you see all of the memories that Lo’ak has, all of the thoughts that he has about you. Love, adoration, your children to come, the bond that will grow stronger for you two. Your strong partnership and friendship that you’ve both taken the time to build over the years. You slowly open your eyes at the same time as him, a smile creasing your soft lips. “Lo’ak. Nga yawne lu oer (I love you). You say as you reach up and touch his face softly. “Nga yawne lu oer, öeya yawntu.” He says back to you as he leans in and kisses you.

The kiss is slow and soft at first, but it quickly speeds up as you both become hungry for more of each other. He pulls back from the kiss and looks into your eyes before standing up and holding his hand out for you to take it. He stands you up, immediately picking you up bridal style as he looks at you and smiles. “Let’s go back to your hut, my love.” He says and you nod your head as you lay down on his chest while wrapping your arms around his neck.

He walks back to your hut with you in his arms, laying you on your cot before getting in between your legs, accidentally bumping your queues and causing them to disconnect. A groan escapes your lips at the loss of feeling and he chuckles. “I know, baby. But you’re about to feel something else.” He flashes a smirk at you and you laugh before rolling your eyes. He leans back in and kisses you once again, easily slipping his tongue in your mouth as he softly strokes your hair. He breaks the kiss and begins to kiss down your neck as you breathe out.

“Lo..” you moan and he hums in response. “I’ve never done this before. Not as a human either.” You confess to him and he comes back up to look into your eyes. “Duh. I could’ve told you that, yawne. I’ll be gentle and careful, if you want me to stop, just tell me ok?” He says and you nod your head before he begins to kiss you again. You feel his hand stroll down your body, your skin feels on fire everywhere that he touches, until he reaches your clothed pussy. He softly rubs his fingers in circles and you moan into his mouth at the feeling.

“Is it ok if I take this off? I have to get you ready before I do anything else.” He asks for your permission and you nod your head in agreement as you feel the heat increasing between your legs. He unties the string to your loincloth, you both watch as it falls off of your waist and you lift up for him to pull it the rest of the way off before he tosses it next to your cot, on the ground. He crouches down in between your legs as he opens them a little wider and begins to rub circles around your clit with his thumb, your back arching off of your cot as your mouth hangs open. He stops his movement, bringing two of his fingers to your lips while he kisses your thighs before speaking.

“Suck.” He commands and you obey as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him to slip his fingers into your mouth and you suck them as your eyes bore into his beautiful golden yellow eyes. “Good girl.” He says as he takes his fingers out of your mouth and brings them back down in between your legs. “This might sting a little bit, but it’s getting you ready. If it is too much, tell me to stop.” He says and you nod your head in agreeance as you feel his fingers enter you, causing you to push your legs closer together from the discomfort, but your body relaxes more as you look down to find him staring at you with love in his eyes, your legs slowly relaxing and falling back down.

He continues to push them inside of you until they are completely in. He moves his fingers in and out slowly and you moan out as you feel your own lubrication consuming his fingers. “Lo’ak.. t-that feels really good.” You moan out, gripping the sides of the cot. He keeps going for a little bit longer as you hear how wet you are, that being the only noise in the room. “I-I think I’m going to..” your words are abruptly interrupted when the feeling goes away as he pulls his fingers out of you, earning a groan from you. “Why did you stop, you idiot?!” You yell out as he sits up, smirking and taking his fingers into his mouth before moaning. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you. And you taste good.” A moan escaping your throat as you feel yourself throbbing around nothing while he unties his own loincloth and throws it on top of yours.

His long dick springs out, hitting his stomach, your eyes widening at the sight. “Oh Lo‘ak, I don’t know if I can take that.” You protest as you back up a little bit, but he pulls you back down by your thighs. “You can take it my love. I’ll go slow and if it’s too much, I’ll stop.” He reassures you as he places his hand above your head and lines himself up with your entrance. “Like I said with my fingers, this is going to hurt at first, but it is going to feel really good once you get past that ok? Just trust me. I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise.” He says as he kisses you one more time before slowly pushing himself into you.

You yell out as your hand flies up to his lower torso, looking down to see that only half of it is completely in. He stops pushing himself in to give you a break as he grabs your hand as he brings it up to his lips to kiss the back of it before intertwining your fingers together. “You’re doing so good, my love. Just a little bit more left ok? The pain will be over soon.” He says as he pushes a little bit further while your back arches off of the cot once again, groaning in pain.

“I’m all the way in. Tell me when you want me to move.” He says planting soft kisses all over your face, leading to your neck where he softly sucks and bites at the sensitive skin. “Move Lo.. please.” You give him permission to move and he nods his head as he pulls out of you halfway, earning moans from both of you as he pushes himself all the way back in.

“Mmm.” You moan out, causing him to look at you and smile. “Did that feel good?” He asks you. “Yes. Keep going please.” You say to him, your hand gently caressing his face. He continues his slow pace making you a moaning mess underneath him. “Lo’ak.. go a little bit faster.” You bat your eyes at him while you wrap your legs around his waist. He speeds up his pace as he groans into your neck. “You feel so fucking good around me. I love watching you go crazy over my Dick, wanting and needing more.” He growls in your ear as he places his hand on your waist before slamming you down on him, you buck your hips as you scream out, knowing that your voice will be gone by tomorrow. He looks into your eyes before licking his lips.

“When do you want to start a family?” He asks you while you pant out of control. “Now… R-Right now.” You manage to breathe out in between pants, tilting your head back while your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. “Are you sure, my love?” You simply nod your head, not able to form full sentences. “Look at me.” He demands, you tilt your head back to look at him while he moans softly.

“Whose pussy is this? Hm?” His thrusts get harder with each word that escapes his lips. “It’s yours.” You pant out softly, barely audible. “I can’t hear you princess. I said, whose. Pussy. Is. This?” He repeats his question once again, your hips smacking together forcefully with every word. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as you let out a high pitched moan each time. “I said it’s your Lo’ak! It’s all yours, every part of me belongs to you!” You scream out as you hear him chuckle. “Good girl. I'm not pulling out of you. I’m going to fill you up with my cum.” He says as he grabs your weak hand and places it on your lower stomach.

“I’m going to fill you up right here and give you my child.” You can barely keep your head up and your eyes open as you feel yourself coming closer just off of his words. “I-I’m going to cum Lo’ak.” You tell him as you feel your body shaking. “So am I, princess. Wait, don’t cum yet.” He says as he grabs his queue once again, you observe him and lift up a little to grab yours as well. “This will make it feel a lot more intense.”

You connect your queues to each other and moan in unison as the feeling intensifies. “Now. Let go for me baby. Cum all over my dick.” You feel your body letting go at his words, your fingernails scratching at his toned stomach while your orgasm washes over you. You feel him stop his movement as he groans and curses while he throws his head back, cumming inside of you as you feel his hard dick throbbing. You both breathe out heavily as you finish riding out your highs and attempting to catch your breath.

Lo’ak looks back down to you, a proud smile plastered on his face as you smile with him before he leans down once again to kiss you. He slowly pulls out of you, causing you both to inhale sharply at the feeling. Your queues are still connected to each other as he lazily plops down next to you. You turn around to face him as you lean in and give him a soft peck on his lips before speaking.

“We’re mated Lo’ak.” You say, excitement exerting your tone as you rub his face and he laughs. “We are mated and you might have a little surprise in a few weeks. I just gave you three of the best gifts in one night. I’m amazing, aren’t I?” He brags on himself as he places his hand on your stomach and rubs it softly, earning a laugh from you while you roll your eyes.

“I promise to be different for you and for our family. I am so sorry that I didn’t realize just how amazing you were before I lost you. I love you more than anything that I thought could ever be possible.” He once again confesses his love for you before he brings his lips to yours and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him in closer to you.

You give his forehead a kiss before you flip over and lay facing the opposite direction of him, backing yourself completely up against his warm body as you feel yourself getting sleepy. His long arm reaches over your body, landing around your waist as he pulls you even closer until your bodies are completely embezzled together. He peaks to look at your face one more time before he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe my dick put you to sleep.” He says as he laughs and you roll your heavy eyes. “Shut up and let’s go to bed, skxawng!” You say to him as he laughs, as you both lay cuddled up together, drifting off to sleep in each other's arms.

A/N: Lo’ak being a simp is literally so adorable to me 😭 anywho, I hope you guys loves it!!! 💖 if you guys have any requests, don’t be afraid to let me know and I would be more than happy to do them!

[captainfantasticalright]

“The Ineffable Wheel of Misfortune”.

Some time ago, I wrote a small meta about this. I truly never go much into that terrain here, but I did write a study on the Goddess Fortuna and thought it most appropriate to share some of the facts about her wheel of Fortune here.

I will not go into much detail about who exactly Fortuna was. Her depictions vary from culture to culture and from age to age (Tyche being the name in Greek, which came before the Roman Fortuna, but many debates have been had about these origins and even comparing the two). But if there is something that remains; one essential aspect: her wheel.

One very important quote from the Prime extra videos revealing some easter eggs:

"There isn't a single prop or a single bit of costume that hasn't been thought through". And that begs the question, why show this prop so openly in the easter eggs section, but not in the show itself?

As Dylan Thomas wisely said: to begin at the beginning- although just to emphasize something:

Fortuna’s wheel is commonly known as the wheel of Fortune- yet what we have here is a wheel of misfortune. But there are two contradicting factors here, namely “misfortune” and “ineffable” fitting in the same description.

Now fate and ineffability could shake hands sometimes, depending on the belief of the doer. But ineffable and misfortune throws us unto different territory.

Now before focusing on the words of the wheel, let’s take a look at the picture keeping the wheel together.

Not only is the bench uniting the two figures (obviously you can see who they are), but the color scheme derives from here too. Cloud and flame, combine into each panel with the flaming sword and the fluffy, goat opposite. Horns and halo are on clear display, but this wheel has no pointer to indicate which fate is chosen. An outside force spins the wheel (Fortuna herself), but where does it land? The only pointer- indicator- is the flaming sword. It comes out of the circle, it is the guidance. It is quite literally cutting through the fabric of Fortune because even though Fortuna spins the fate, the sword guards against any circumstance.

Is this a prediction of Aziraphale taking the center place in guiding and protecting against all odds? Most definitely.

Now, you’ve probably seen the Zodiac signs on the wheel. Those are there because:

Although this states that the wheel of fortune moves from east to west (counterclockwise), let’s keep in mind that this wheel defies fortune and is actually ineffable misfortune.

For that reason, one takes the liberty to assume that this wheel spins in a clockwise direction (west to east).

One reason I am reading this "clockwise" is because I want to correlate it to Crowley's "it's always too late" and to "metaphorically started ticking", as if the options on the wheel follow time strictly in a way. But the wheel has a mind of it’s own:

A wheel can rotate indefinitely. So even if there is a stop at a certain spot, it most definitely will change again. It is in this case, an eternal repetition of ups and downs.

One can fall from the wheel and rise again. Interestingly when reading what’s on the wheel, one starts with the upper left hand side- the best moment at the moment. Coincidentally, ineffably, Aziraphale’s flaming sword is pointing exactly to that point - “blessing for you”.

Spin the wheel and you’ll land on the next part- good news.

Notice how you’ll go through some seemingly good events until you reach those that can be read as their opposites. Even putting it like that, a blessing for you can come back again and not be a blessing at all.

On the image above, the qualities are also opposite their negatives. For example peace-war, patience-impatience, and so on.

On the ineffable wheel of misfortune you could choose to read it as color opposites. So take the yellow "pleasure ahead" and match it with the opposite yellow "going on a journey" and it still makes sense, it could be the good and the bad- or it could be nothing at all.

There are many wheels of fortune out there, eternally rotating by the hands of a force outside our control.

Hopefully you’ll have realized by now that even though the wheel belongs to Fortuna in mythology and literature and art and everywhere else, this wheel belongs to God.

Because God plays an ineffable game of their own devising- much like Fortuna does with the fate of mankind.

Yet, there is room to escape the wheel. To defy ineffability, to build another wheel turned by your own hands and to finally say “it’s not too late”.

[farshootergotme]

About Robin Jason...

Thinking how, when you actually look into it, among the Robins, Jason is the one who had it easiest.

Yeah, he was killed, and it was a horrible death... But Robin!Dick has died as well (to be revived in the same issue, but still, he felt it happen) in at least a couple of the Silver Age comics.

Not just that, Robin!Dick has been, in his history, held hostage by literal monsters, tortured, beaten almost to death, buried alive, got demon possessed, had to flee from a possessed Batman and Alfred... Silver Age comics are...quite something else.

Either in Gotham or with the Titans, Robin Dick has (a couple of times literally) been through hell and back.

Jason, on the other hand, was on relatively fewer really dangerous missions - mostly because he debutted during a time popularity of kid heroes was waning and the writers pretty much sidelined him.

It's not talked about much, either in-universe or out, since Dick came out of it...well, not alright, but as 'alright' as anyone in their line of work can expect to be.

He's one of the best, one of the most beloved/trusted. He's one of the best leaders, most reliable teammates.

He went through hell and came out a bit scarred, but without its taint on him.

Imagining what Jason thinks about that... He will never admit out loud, but objectively he knows that Dick went through far worse situations than he did.

Of course, trauma isn't a competition, different people have different breaking points...

But would Jason think of it in that light? Imagining Jason looking over the past Robin adventures... Thinking about how he broke so easily in comparison to Dick...

Wondering whether Batman's mistake was not letting kids be Robins, but letting him be Robin, because he clearly couldn't take it...

This makes me think about how many times I see characters saying "Those times were less dangerous, back then..." But were they really? Or that's what it looked like since these kids who went through hell kept pushing through and came out of it with a smile on their faces? Are there less scars because they look brighter? Or is the ugliness of it all hidden behind the strength with which they carried those hardships?

As you say, pain isn't a competition, and I wouldn't dare say who had it "better" than who. But I will say a lot of Dick experiences and traumas as Robin are overlooked. It wasn't all fun and laughter for him nor for his teammates. It just looked like it because (in-universe) the whole young heroes thing was new, and nobody looked deeper when the surface was already impactful enough. However, as years passed and they got used to it, they started looking more closely, noticing the much-too-old look on these kids faces and all the responsibilities they had on their shoulders. And (in reality) older comics were about that, comedy. Humor and drama that was solved within an issue to then start a new adventure in the next. It wasn't common to see the consequences of such traumatic events since it was more about what was happening now than what had happened earlier.

Or at least that's what I think.

As for Jason... Interesting thought there. You're saying Jason, finding out about everything Dick, the first Robin, went though and still came out of it 'alright' (as you put it) he'd think "Maybe it wasn't him, but me" since he's the only Robin who died and came back 'wrong' from that. The only that let it affect him so much (even though he shouldn't feel ashamed of that, as we all deal with pain differently).

I can't describe exactly what his thought process would be as I'm not an expert about his character. But it'd be interesting to see how he'd deal with this.

Thanks for the ask!

[inuette]

A lot of the arguments we see other anti-radqueers use against RQs are TERF rhetoric (i.e. "You wouldn't understand what it's like to be born as [X]," "Biologically you're not [X] and lying that you are is immoral," etc.) I wish to raise alternative arguments one can use that aren't TERF rhetoric that still work and arguments to convince radqueers that they don't need to be apart of that community (because remember, the goal isn't "extermination" — it's education!!!)

Transitioning to another race is literally impossible. This one isn't even the TERF argument of "You'll always be a man/woman!! >:(" because hormonally, physically and socially — one CAN transition to another gender. This isn't possible with race. The biology that determines what race you are can't be changed like how one's gender can.

You cannot and will not experience the culture the same as someone who was born into it/raised into it would (nor would you experience disconnect in the same way!) The only man or woman "culture" that's present in society is the one that's forced onto them. Ethnic cultures are much more nuanced and stem from centuries of tradition, and while you can argue that that's the same for "man culture" or "woman culture," that's different depending on the society too. Plus, if you're just generally 'transitioning' to "transblack" or "transjapanese," for example, what exactly are you transitioning to? Different people in different areas will have different cultures with their only link being their ethnicity/race. Are you transitioning based off of stereotypes? Or how you 'think' a black person should look? What about people who differ from that? What about the large culture differences even between people in the same country? What then?

For those who are transage and attempting to 'transition' — age regression exists. Get a caregiver, or if you don't trust anyone else to, be your own caregiver! Age regression isn't just to ages 1-9, you can regress to your teenage years! Tips for age regression and age dysphoria exist that DON'T involve lying about your age.

Those with BIID who identify as transdisabled, amputations and disabling yourself are an option. Getting therapy is an option, but disabling oneself is the last choice. There are ways to deal with your dysphoria, there's medication too if that's the route you wanna take. But you don't need to be apart of a community that actively supports groomers, racism, pro-contact paraphiles, or any of that shit to ease your dysphoria.

Transspecies. Do I even need to say it? There are people who are transspecies and have transitioned. It was a nonhuman term at heart, not a radqueer term. There are tips and ways to ease your dysphoria as well that don't include being apart of the radqueer community. Unless you're using your 'identity' as a transspecies being to act on your paraphilias, the otherkin, therian, alterhuman and nonhuman communities will welcome you with open arms!

If anyone else has alternative (non-TERF rhetoric) arguments that the community can (and should) start using more, please add on in the reblogs!

[beanghostprincess]

Sanji has helped me in so many ways. I will forever be grateful for the creation of this character. He quite literally means the world to me right now.

(TW: ED/Depression/Suicide attempt mention)

I've always struggled with food. Well, not always. But at the end of middle school (more or less. Give or take. Age 12/13) I became obsessed with what I ate. I still don't know exactly how it started, but I think it has always been a mix of my need to control my life when it's crumbling down and the necessity to look skinny (both things are my mother's fault, mostly. And also lots of things going on at the moment). So I started skipping meals constantly and throwing away food and throwing up. Not gonna get into details, but it ruined my life without anybody knowing until a huge depressive episode came and then I tried to off myself, yadda yadda yadda. Then I just stopped eating food and my meals every day were basically a monster and gum and maybe a piece of fruit. I couldn't even drink milk without crying. Then it got a bit better. Then a bit worse. It wasn't very consistent. And then I started doing exercise but that only made me even more obsessed with calorie intake and healthy food and I still can't drink milk or bread without at least feeling awful about it.

And then I watched One Piece.

I know it sounds extremely silly and dumb, but it has helped me in so many ways. I'm not gonna get into all the things it has done for me, because then I'd have to talk about Robin, Nami, Luffy, Pudding and Buggy which are, like, the characters that have helped me the most next to Sanji, and I would not finish this post.

But Sanji is just so, so important to me.

He speaks about food with such passion. His whole thing about not wasting food literally comes from an experience of starvation and because of the sacrifice his father made for him. He keeps saying he refuses to let people go hungry, no matter what. That we all deserve to eat. He relates food to love and cooking is his whole life. It kind of started as a joke when my brother said "nooo, now you can't waste food because Sanji would be sad" and I- That day I literally ate wayyy more than usual with that thought in mind. And I didn't feel bad afterward for once. And he's just- He just makes me feel so comfortable around food. Which is the normal amount of comfort somebody should have and sometimes it's not even that, but it helps. It helps so much.

Then his whole thing with Germa and the Vinsmokes. It killed me. My relationship with my mother is, uh, you can call it complicated but I fucking hate her so. Yeah. And Sanji's story about rejecting his blood relatives and finding better people who will love him hit so close to home. Him being different. Weak. More emotional. A good person. Sanji refusing to use the name Vinsmoke. It's my whole life. Sanji self-sabotaging himself all the time and constantly sacrificing himself, too? I just can't do it, man, he means the world to me. And then Wano happens and he turns out to have the same body as his siblings but he's still himself. He's still Sanji no matter how much in common he has with the Vinsmokes. And as somebody who's constantly dealing with people telling them that they look like their mom? I fucking love it. I know I look like her and I even act like her sometimes but that doesn't mean I am her. And it doesn't mean she deserves to be part of my family, because she isn't and I can't wait to get rid of her in my life.

It's not only food and family, though. Sanji has helped me accept myself in so many ways too. In the way I perceive others and in the way I act. He has helped me eat. He has helped me realize you don't have to consider your blood relatives family if you don't love them. He has helped me see that my kindness is a strength and not a weak spot.

Not to mention that his whole thing with gender and sexuality, how the fandom portrays him, and how I personally write him has been of so much help in understanding myself. I recently discovered I was a lesbian, and also being genderfluid I just- I just love Sanji so much I be projecting my gender issues and internalized stuff with comphet on him. And let me tell you, it helps.

This whole thing is just something short and sweet I wanted to say because media affects people. In the best of ways. One Piece in general has saved my life in many ways, but Sanji in particular is still helping me every day.