#i love logan delos with my whole heart and that's not gonna change

[breanime]

Bre's Boys as dads.... How do they rectify it when they realise they've been letting work come first too much lately. Obv they wouldn't allow that overall but sometimes things get busy and your schedule can change without you noticing.

Billy Russo: Billy was used to waking up early and hearing the excited footsteps of his son running to greet him, but this morning it was different. Your son walked into the living room where Billy was on his computer, saw his father, and didn’t say anything. He just grabbed his stuffed turtle from the toy bin and walked off. “Did you see that?” Billy asked you, trying to keep the disappointment and confusion out of his voice. You sighed, shrugging. “He’s a little upset with you.” Billy’s heart stopped. “He is? Why?” You looked away, and Billy could already feel the guilt seeping in. “He says you love Anvil more than you love him.” And that sentence broke Billy’s heart. He made sure to go and talk to your son, and after that day, he made every effort he could to be home at a reasonable time and spend time with his family. The last thing he wanted was for his kid to ever feel they were unloved or unwanted, and he vowed to never let his son feel that way again. 

Logan Delos: When Logan came back from working overseas for over a month, and your daughter cried when she saw him; he knew he’d been away for too long. Logan told the company that he wouldn’t do any more long distance meetings for a while, and he actually took some time away from the office and worked at home. He remembered what it was like to be a kid and barely know his own father, and he did NOT want his daughter to know a life like that. So he worked from home and made sure he had lunch with her every day and read to her every night, determined to make sure he was always a distinct part of her life. 

Jax Teller: The club was dealing with a lot of shit lately, so Jax was extremely busy. He came home one night, just in time for story time, and he was about to surprise you and your sons, but then he heard his baby boy’s soft voice ask “does Daddy not like me anymore?” “Of course he likes you. He loves you,” you answer just as Jax’s heart breaks. “But he doesn’t come home no more... Did I do something bad?” “No,” Abel answers from his bed, “Daddy just doesn’t like to be at home.” And that made Jax want to cry. The next morning, he surprised the boys (and you) with chocolate chip pancakes and spent the whole day with them. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do this all the time, but he promised himself to do it as much as he could, and to never let his family think they weren’t the absolute most important thing in his life--and he did. 

Coco Cruz: Coco is unbelievably pissed at himself when he misses your daughter’s preschool graduation. You try to make him feel better, telling him it wasn’t a big deal and there would be more events and programs in the future, but he felt like shit. All he had to remember that special day were the pictures, and when he came home and tried to hug your daughter, she crossed her arms and refused to hug him back, and wow... That shit hurt. Coco stayed up all night, staring at the ceiling in the dark, trying to think of how he could make things better. He was a Mayan, of course, but he was a father and a husband too, and he knew he had to do better in those parts of his life. So he made efforts to be present more, to make it to the events and programs and recitals, and when he couldn’t--if he was in Mexico or stuck at the clubhouse--he would call or Facetime, so his baby girl never had to go a day in her life without hearing her father’s voice. 

Angel Reyes: When Angel’s baby boy calls EZ “Papa” and cries when he sees Angel, that’s when it hits him. Angel had been busting his ass for the club lately, and so he would send EZ over to the house to check on you and the baby and make sure everything was good at home. But this was becoming so frequent, your son hardly recognized him anymore, and that broke Angel’s heart. EZ tried to make him feel better, saying that his nephew knew that Angel was his Dad, but Angel knew he had to be around more--it was simple as that. So he did. He also made it a point to refer to himself as “Daddy” or “Papi” when he spoke to his son, just to kind of drill it in. He had felt inferior to and replaced by EZ far too often in his life, and he’d be damned if his own son chose EZ over him. 

Miguel Galindo: Miguel worked from home, but that didn’t mean he was around much. He made sure to show his face a few times a day, but he didn’t spend as much time with his kids as he wanted to. He was in-between calls, walking towards the library to grab a file, when he heard voices. “Bam bam,” your daughter said, her little squeaky voice making Miguel smile, “how come Papa doesn’t play with us like Mama does?” Miguel’s smile dropped. Cristobal sighed. “He’s too busy,” he answered, “Papa works a lot.” “Oh,” your daughter’s voice sounded sad, “does he like us?” Cristobal paused, and that pause said so much to Miguel. “I think so,” his son answered. That was it. Miguel took the family on a vacation and made sure to play with the kids as much as he could. Miguel remembered being a child and not really having a relationship with his father, and he hated the idea of being like Jose in that regard, so every day, Miguel made sure to spend actual, quality time with his children as much as he could. 

Nick Amaro: The day Nick calls his son the name of the perp on his latest case is the day he realizes he’s been working too much. The self-disgust is overwhelming, and Nick decides to take the some much needed time off to be with his family. It does wonders; he’s happier, you’re happier, the kids are happier--and Nick quickly comes to the conclusion that family time is beneficial to all of you, and he works hard to maintain and build that family time as best as he can. He can’t always spare hours on end, but he makes time as he gets it, which isn’t nearly as difficult as he thought it would be. Plus, there was no sound sweeter than the sound of his kids’ laughter, and he’d do anything to hear that sound as often as he could. 

Johnny Tuturro: Working with the FBI and being a father was tough, but Johnny thought he was pretty good at it. He was there, more often than not, when your daughter woke up in the morning, and he always called to say good night if he wasn’t home. He was kicking ass at this life thing--or so he thought. One night, when he called, he heard his precious baby girl say “I don’t wanna talk to Daddy!” “What? Why?” You asked. “I want Daddy to come home!” She cried back, and Johnny felt tears in his eyes as he listened to her cry. This half-in, half-out thing just wasn’t enough--he had to do better. So Johnny put in a request to get off of undercover work and work on cases from an office. He was able to have breakfast, dinner, and storytime with his family, and that made all the difference in the world. 

Rio: Rio came home late one night to find Marcus waiting for him. “What you still doin’ up, papa?” Rio asked, whispering so he didn’t wake you or his baby up. “I just wanted to see you,” Marcus answered, getting up, “We forgot what color your eyes were.” And with that, he was gone. Rio stood in the living room for what felt like hours after that, picturing Marcus and your son discussing him and not remembering what their dad looked like because he was working so much. The thought made him sick. He got on the phone then and told Mick they were gonna cut back on distribution until they found more reliable employees, and Rio made sure to spend as much quality time with you and the kids as he could. He knew, of course, that there would still be times he worked late, but he talked about his absences with the kids, and made sure they knew that their Daddy loved them, and would do with anything for them. So even if he was gone, they knew he would come back, and they knew how much he loved them. 

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Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!

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#billy russo x reader #logan delos x reader #jax teller x reader #coco cruz x reader #angel reyes x reader #miguel galindo x reader #nick amaro x reader #johnny tuturro x reader #rio x reader #bre's boys #bre's boys preferences

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Bottom: Part 2 of 2

A/N: This was originally supposed to go...very differently. But then I had a revelation in the shower this morning, and everything changed. And I guarantee you’ll like it better this way. If you’re curious about the original ending after you read this bad boy, pop into my messages and i’ll tell you all about it. 

Warning: descriptions of overdose, drug use 

Word Count: 4841

When Logan’s name flashed across the caller ID, Juliet answered without a second’s pause, expecting her brother’s tone to be bright and warm as it had been for the better part of two years. He probably wants to meet for lunch. There was a time when meeting her brother for lunch was in a completely different realm of impossible. There was a time when seeing his name appear on her screen brought a chill to her chest and a dizzying headache as her heart began pounding in her brain; a time when a call from Logan meant that he was in some kind of trouble, or that he’d been rushed to the emergency room, or that he was contemplating filling his veins with enough poison to permanently curb his pain. But his recovery had been going so well, and he’d been working so hard to uncover the light that he’d lost inside of himself, that those feelings of dread, that conditioned, involuntary response had become just a memory. 

 “Hey...Juliet? Can...can we talk?... I’m at the hospital and-”

 And just like that, those memories came speeding back to claw at her lungs and tear through her mind. Logan’s face; cheeks hollow and covered with too many days worth of unkempt growth, dark eyes completely matte and dull, pupils so small they were barely there, rimmed in grayish purple circles that only made his pale complexion seem more colorless. His skin; sweaty and clammy and thin beneath her fingers as she hoisted him onto his side, saving him from choking, arms and legs dotted with bruises and blotches. That slow motion sound to his voice, the small cracks and tired quality. The things he would say and how little sense they made, how not a thing from his mouth was credible- none of the promises could be believed, none of the apologies or threats or curses really meant anything at all. How he’d swing from livid screams of “Fuck off, Jules, I fuckin’ hate you!” to desperate, pleading, painfully sorrowful sobs of “I’m sorry, I’ll be better, Jules, I promise…”

 Hearing him say those words- “I’m at the hospital”- made her heart rate triple and her eyes grow wide. She stood abruptly from her desk, manicured fingers clutching her phone in one hand and grabbing her keys with the other. No. Not again. Please don't make him go through this again. She wasn’t sure who she was pleading with, but the thought of Logan falling back after reaching such a peak, after the rigorous climb to sobriety that he’d made, filled her heart with lead and sent it dropping into her stomach. 

  What? Logan? What happened? Are you…” she paused, swallowed, clamped her eyes shut against the dizzying question whipping around in her skull: Are you relapsing again? Even though he hadn’t backslid in over two and a half years, that was where her terrified mind went. “Are you sick? Logan? Are you hurt?” The words were tumbling out and over one another too quickly for him to answer, too quickly for her to stop them, their bitter taste leaving her tongue numb.

 “Hey, no, Jules...I’m okay. I’m here because…” she listened to his tone- not bright and cheerful, but not broken or slurred. He sighed and it sounded heavy, but it had the distinct weight to it that only came from carrying someone else’s burden. She knew that sigh well, having emptied her own lungs in that same soul shuddering way plenty of times. I swear, if this is about… “Jules, I’m here because someone needs me to be here.”  

 Juliet froze halfway to her office door and spoke your name into the phone. It wasn’t a guess, she was sure he was talking about you. Her stomach churned uneasily as she exhaled through semi flared nostrils. I thought I made it clear to her that Logan didn’t need- 

 “Yeah… yes. It’s, fuck. She… Jesus, Juliet. She called me because she thought she was fucking dying. And… and I think she wanted to...at least, at least last night I think she did…” 

 He sounds so...so sad. “Is...is she okay?” Juliet regained a normal, even tone from the relief of knowing that he was still safe, still healthy. But he’s still in pain. Why does it have to be her, Logan? She adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag before meticulously fixing the few errant strands of her dark curls, letting out a painfully patient sigh. 

 “She’s...stable, yeah.” He sniffed and cleared his throat, and when he spoke again it was anything but clear. “Jules...when I saw her…” he swore and his voice lurched with the distinct unevenness of uncontrolled breathing. “When I saw her, Jules… I- I realized what it was like...what I was like when you… shit.” She heard a rustling sound and imagined that he was rubbing his hand over his face, knowing that this wasn’t easy for him. “Juliet I’m...thank you. I love you, Jules.” 

 Juliet could taste her heart on her tongue and forced her eyes shut. “I love you too, Logan. You don’t have to-” 

 “No. I do. I know I said it before. But now I know. I know what you...what you saw, what you felt.” No, Logan, you can’t have any idea. You’re my brother. She’s just…  “and how you...what you had to do and… And I know now, Jules.” There was a deep understanding in his tone, as though everything he’d been through- overdoses, hospital stays, rehab, withdrawal, the meetings, the back slide, sobriety- all of it was punctuated with a final level of acknowledgement now that he’d seen it from the other side. 

 “I hope you never have to see it again, Logan.” Her own voice had lost its sharpness, and though she was far from your biggest fan, the sincerity in her words was genuine; she truly hoped with every bone in her body that Logan wouldn’t have to go through anything like what he must have spent the last several hours going through- what she’d spent too much time going through herself. 

 “I’m gonna help her, Jules.” He sounded more resolute than she’d ever heard him sound, even in the boardroom or in negotiations, when he could be a downright cocky son of a bitch. But… help her?  What did he mean by that? “I want to… she’s… I need to help her.” 

 “Logan are you-” Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m not. What if she can’t be helped? Are you thinking straight? Does she really mean that much to you? “Are you still at the hospital? I’ll meet you there.” And to think I thought we’d be meeting for lunch when this call started… 

 “Yeah...yeah, I’ll be here until they release her. Don’t want her to be alone, her family’s out of town and she… fuck even when they are in town she’s got no one, Jules.” 

 Juliet left her office and strode down the hallway, heels clicking against the hardwood. “Okay. I’m on my way now. Be there in about twenty five minutes, okay?” And then we’re going to talk about this help. 

 “Yeah, okay Jules. Thanks. Thank you for coming.” Tired, determined, hopeful, scared… he was all of those things and she completely understood… and she completely hated it. 

 “Of course, Logan. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up and pushed her phone down into her purse, passing her assistant’s office. From the corner of her eye she saw him spring up from his desk like a jack-in-the-box, darting out to follow her. 

 “Ms. Delos, do you need a car? Should I call you a driver? Make any arrangements?” Juliet didn’t slow her steps or even turn around. 

 “No, Jeff, thank you, I’m going to drive myself.” Don’t want anyone to know I’m meeting Logan in the ER. “Just cancel all my afternoon meetings, please. Reschedule them for any time after Wednesday. Thank you, Jeff.” She raised her right hand in thanks as Jeff stopped following and returned to his office to start contacting the several clients and vendors that were likely already on their way to meet with her. Turning down the hallway that lead out to the parking garage, she kept her brisk pace until she reached her sleek black convertible, getting in and pulling out towards the highway. He needs to make sure he knows what he’s doing...Oh, Logan… why does it have to be her? 

 .  . .  .  .  .  . .  .  .

 When you woke up again after the doctor had been in to check on you, everything ached. Parts of yourself that you didn’t know you had, parts of yourself that you didn’t think still had viable nerve endings, parts of yourself you thought you’d already damaged beyond repair, were burning and throbbing, dull and hot and well past the pain level that you were comfortable with. Nausea rose in angry waves, corrosive bile eating at your stomach lining, your esophagus, staining the inside of your mouth. Your lungs felt tired despite the oxygen tube beneath your nose and around your ears, the plastic rubbing against your skin with the sensation of tiny sawblades, and with each breath you felt yourself grow closer and closer to the sleep that your pain kept you from.You raised your right hand to try to move the offending tubing, but you were stopped. Realizing that you’d had your eyes closed this whole time, you struggled greatly to open them and found Logan’s long fingers wrapping gently around your hand and pushing it back down to your side. You felt his forearm against your own, his skin warm and soft, yours thin and cold. 

 “Hey, nope, you need that, leave that there, okay?” There was a patience in his tone that you never would have associated with Logan Delos. He was used to instant gratification; demands, not requests, confidence, not uncertainty. Clearly, more had changed since the last time you had seen him than his sobriety. You weren’t delusional enough, even in your current state, to think that he was simply this patient and understanding for you. 

 You let him hold your wrist down against the sheets until you nodded and he was satisfied that you wouldn’t try to disrupt your oxygen tube again, and even then he didn’t take his hand back. Instead, he moved his thumb back and forth against your prominent wrist bone, protruding like a marble from the base of your hand. “Just hurts,” you mumbled, trying to explain why you wanted to move the tubing. 

 He inhaled shakily through his nose and nodded. “I know. I know it does.” His dark eyes narrowed briefly and he swallowed before your name fell from his lips- lips you could still feel all over your body even years later, lips that had always indulged whatever whim you were on, lips that were now set in a firm line to keep from quivering. “Do you...did you hear what the doctor was saying before?” 

 You shook your head as much as you could, no recollection of a conversation with your doctor. 

 Logan’s fingers curled around your wrist again and tightened in a brief squeeze as he sighed. “You need to stay overnight again tonight. You had… there must have been… there must have been something else in your stuff...some additive or, or whatever but it caused some blood clots- small ones, but they were near your lungs so… so they just want to be sure that they dissolve before you can go home.” 

 So that’s why it's so exhausting to breathe. You watched him wince as he explained what you’d done to yourself, and immediately you felt guilt add itself to the roiling waves of withdrawal nausea in your stomach. He shouldn’t be here. This isn’t fair to him. 

 “So you need this,” he brought his free hand up to your face and traced the line of plastic tubing over your cheek and around your ear. “I know it hurts. But you need it. Need to leave it alone so you can get better.” He combed his fingertips through your hair, grazing the top of your ear, featherlight before his palm conformed to the side of your head, cradling it against the pillow. “You need to get better. You will.” He swallowed again and you closed your eyes as the lips you remembered found a spot on your forehead. You felt a tingle spread out from where he kissed you, like a protective aura had been cast over you with that kiss. If only it were that simple. 

 “Logan,” your voice was raspy and your throat felt like you’d swallowed box cutter blades, but what you had to say was important so you pushed through the pain. “Logan, I’m sorry that I called you last night. I...you shouldn’t be here.” One had was still tucked against the side of your head, the other still holding your wrist, thumb brushing the skin beneath the plastic bracelet with your intake information. Why doesn’t he see that? 

 “What do you mean? Don’t apologize. I’m...I’m so glad you called me. What if-”  The look of confusion on his face was yet another new development. The Logan you knew was always sure, even when others weren’t. He shook his head and a few pieces of hair fell out of place. 

 “No, Logan, I am. I’m sorry because,” you took a breath. “Because you’re clearly doing so...so well and I didn’t mean,” another breath, “to bring you back into this and…” you exhaled, coughing and he tried to silence you but you shook your head through the cough and took another breath. “You don’t need to be here with me, Logan. You’re not...obligated or…” 

 “Stop.” There he is. Finally, the Logan you remembered showed up, voice full and commanding. “I know I’m not obligated. I’m here because I want to be here, and I want to be here because I...care about you. I always have...I-” the sureness wavered again but he gathered his eyebrows together and rallied the command back into his tone. “I know you cared about me, too, back then. I...I know we did a lot of...of fucked up shit together. And I know it was fucked of me that I never reached out to you after I got clean. And, no, stop-” you had tried to raise your hand under his touch, tried to cut him off and speak, but he didn’t let you. “Let me...please let me say this?” You nodded feeling tears dripping from the corners of your eyes. “I should have. I know Juliet told you to stay away. I know. And I know why she thought that was best. And maybe it was for a little while. But...but I know that I should have reached out to you. I... even after everything...I missed you. You… you always saw me, you know? You saw me for more than what was wrong with me. You saw that I was trying… you saw that I wanted to be better...you… we were just… it wasn’t good timing before. We couldn’t help each other because we were both drowning. But the truth is, I would have drowned a lot sooner without you- without knowing that there was someone who knew me like you do. Maybe Juliet was the one who finally pulled me up, and for that I owe her everything. But you… you were important, too...are. Are important. And… and it doesn’t have to mean anything now or right away or ever. Even though I…” his tongue came out to wet his lips, a flash of pink before it disappeared behind his teeth. “Even though I care about you...I never stopped caring about you...but more than that… I want to help you. Someone helped me. And now I can do that for you. Please...please let me.” 

 This was it. He was laying it out and you had to decide if you were going to let him be there for you, let him help you. You knew you’d have to take this seriously if you let him, knew you couldn’t let him down. It was hard to believe the things he was saying- that he cared...that he always did and still does...that even in his drugged out haze of years past, he knew that you cared, too, knew that you saw inside of him then the man that sat beside you now. What difference could there have been if your father or brother had done for you what Juliet had done for Logan? They’d both given up on you years ago, writing you off as the black sheep with issues, probably hoping you’d just hurry up and off yourself so they wouldn’t be burdened by your destructive cycle. You had no idea where they even were at the current moment, or if they knew where you were, and honestly, you didn’t care. You’d read once about how important it was to distance yourself from the people who you were close to when you were trapped in the repetition of heroin use disorder. You always thought that referred only to suppliers and people that you used with. But you realized now that it included enablers, too, and that in their absence, they’d enabled you to believe that you had no one. But that wasn’t true. You looked up through your tears at the man beside you. You had Logan; he was right here, and he was telling you that you weren’t alone. For the first time in years, you weren’t alone. 

 “Okay.” It was all you could muster, but you felt so much more than those four letters could hold. The pain and exhaustion were still the most prominent things that you felt, and you knew that what you were feeling was only the tip of the iceberg, but maybe...maybe if you had Logan...maybe you could get through it. 

 “Okay?” His eyes widened and you saw them lighten a few shades. “Okay? Yes?” You nodded and his sigh of relief changed the set of his face back to the relaxed, quiet expression he’d been wearing when you woke up. He leaned down and kissed the same spot on your forehead again. “Thank you,” he whispered. You felt the tip of his nose buried in your hair, and his scratchy facial hair brush at your temple. “Thank you.” When he pulled back and sat up again, he took his hand away from your head and wiped at his eyes. 

 You twisted the wrist he’d been holding so that your palm could slide over his wrist instead, fingers not making it all  the way around the way they used to. It was hard to keep eye contact with him- your eyelids each weighed a ton, your tears were flooding your vision, and the emotion in his eyes was near blinding, but you locked in as much as you could. “I’m gonna get better, Logan.” 

 “Yes. Yes you are. I promise you. It’s worth it.” 

 Looking at him now, able to sit here and watch you struggle, able to sit next to you and know the pain that you were in, know how every cell in your body felt swollen and sore, know how all you wanted was to sink back under the warm surface and float all the way down to where the pain couldn’t reach you, and still say that it was worth it, meant everything. If he can do it, I can do it, especially if he’s helping me. And if he’s helping me… I have to do it. 

 You were going to say something else, but there was a knock on the door and you both swiveled your heads towards the nurse who stuck his head inside. “Mr. Delos, there’s someone at the nurses’ station for you.” 

 Logan turned away from the nurse and back to you. “That’s Juliet.” Your heart thudded out of rhythm. Oh. She’s not going to be happy. Your anxiety must have shown on your face, because his fingertips were back on your forehead, brushing soothingly across your clammy skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. Rest, okay? I’ll be back.” He kissed that same spot one last time before crossing the room. Upon reaching the door, he looked back at you and gave you a tired smile, ecstatic that you’d agreed to let him help you, before disappearing out into the hall. 

 Juliet is going to be pissed. You tried not to dwell on how your involvement in Logan’s life would shake up his relationship with his sister, trying to remind yourself that she was just concerned about her brother, and that he wanted to be here with you, and that neither of those where bad things. 

 .  . .  .  .  .  . .  

 Juliet chewed her thumbnail, a habit that she hated, but one that came out involuntarily under stress. She stared at the same reproduction painting in the private waiting room that she’d stared at time and time again, thinking to herself, I could paint that. I’ve looked at that ugly thing so much now… I could paint it with my eyes closed. The sound of the door opening broke her out of her artistic contemplation and she turned, dropping her hand to her side. “Logan,” she exhaled his name and crossed the small space to wrap her arms around him. Turning her face to kiss his cheek, she squeezed tightly and felt him squeeze back before she pulled away. He’s okay. He looks okay, just tired, just sad. 

 “Hey, Jules,” he responded before letting out a long and ragged breath. He found the arms of a chair and gripped them before lowering himself down into it. 

 Juliet crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her back foot. “How’s...how is she doing?” 

 Logan blew out another breath, this time not as shaky, coming out in a spurt through his lips. “It was rough for a minute… and she’s… she has to stay tonight, maybe tomorrow, too. I didn’t tell her about tomorrow, but…” he shook his head, messy hair flopping against his brow. “But she,” he looked up then, and the smile that lit his face shocked her. “She agreed to let me help her, Jules. She’s gonna go to rehab… she’s gonna get clean and-” 

 Juliet quickly spun to take the seat next to her brother and reached for the hand closest to her, which was still gripping the arm of the chair. “Logan. This girl. How...how can you be sure that she means it? Any of it? How can you trust her, Logan?” She felt her eyes fill with concern and hoped that’s how her questions came across. Juliet’s worst fear was that he’d get involved with helping you, and either he’d fall back into old habits, or you’d relapse… you’d OD and die and leave him hurting worse than ever. It had to be her, didn’t it? Nothing you do is easy, is it, Logan? 

 Logan surprised her by sitting up and leaning forward in his chair. He didn’t rip his hand away, didn’t raise his voice or use an irritated tone. “Jules, let me ask you something.” 

 “Okay…” 

 “When you dragged me to rehab. When you found me, choking to death on my own puke, eyes rolling back and-” Juliet looked away. “Hey, no come on, look at me, please.” She pressed her lips together, held her eyes shut for a few more seconds and then obliged and opened them. “When you found me like that, Jules, how did you know it was going to work? Did you trust me when I said I would try?”

“I...Logan, you’re my brother. I knew it was going to work because I believed in you. I trusted you because I believed that you could do it.” 

 Logan nodded. “That’s right. You believed in me. Dad thought you were nuts, remember? And William?” 

 “Fuck William, Logan, he-” 

 Logan held up a hand, dismissing her hatred for her ex-husband. He hated him, too, fucking prick, but that wasn’t the point. “Agreed. Fuck him. But he thought you were crazy to believe in me. To want to help me. Remember?” He opened his arms and spread his fingers. “But you did. And here I am. I made it because you believed in me when no one else would. Because I wasn’t alone. I had help. I had you. Jules, I know I wouldn’t have made it without you. I know that. And now… now I get to do that for her. She’s got no one like you, Jules. Her family doesn’t give a fuck about her. They’re not even here. They’re not even coming. But I want to be here. I believe in her, Jules, in what she could be and do when she’s out of this. She’s smart. She’s bright and I know that’s hard to see but...but even back a few years ago...it was about more than the drugs with her, Jules, I...I didn’t know it then, because it was buried under everything else...but I loved her, Juliet. I couldn’t...I wasn’t able to see it, but even in the numbness...it was there. It’s still there. I love her. I don’t really know what that means yet, and I know it can’t mean anything until she’s healthy again… until she’s clean and can focus on other things...but… but I'm not just going to let her drown.” 

 “Logan...I’m scared for you.” 

 “I know you are, Jules. I know. I know you probably thought that I was strung out again when I called you earlier.” She made to protest even though that was exactly what she thought, but he tilted his head and held up a finger as he finished. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. But you believed in me once, right? You believed that I could get clean and be healthy and get better, right?” 

 “Yes. Yes, Logan, of course, but-” 

 “So I’m asking you to believe in me again. Believe in me one more time, Jules. Believe that I can help her without falling back down. I know I can. I just need to you know it, too.” 

 Juliet hadn’t realized that she was crying, but the fact was that the changes that Logan had made in his life went far beyond health and habits. He’d let go of the resentment and the selfishness. He’d made room for compassion and love and a desire to do good. He’d become exactly what she always knew he could be, and she couldn’t stand in his way. “Okay, Logan. Okay. I trust you. I believe in you...and in her. I… I love you…” 

 “Love you too, Jules. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be hard but it’s gonna be great. You’ll see.” He got up then, and the smile that he kissed her cheek with felt like a swath of sunshine on her skin, his happiness contagious as she felt her own lips curve upwards. 

 It’s gonna be great. I believe you, Logan. 

 .  . .  .  .  .  . .  .

 Ten months later, you stood next to Logan with about twenty more pounds on your frame, a significant shine to your hair, a healthy complexion, and light dancing in your eyes as the Delos Philanthropic Fund opened The Door- a rehab and wellness center funded entirely by Delos Destinations. Beside you stood Juliet and her new husband Tony, and the four of you stepped down on ceremonial shovels to break ground for the center’s new facility. A few months ago there was no way that your frail and failing body would have had the strength to shovel sand, but you felt the blade of your shovel bite down into the hard packed dirt and scoop up a large rock. This rock can’t stop me. This rock’s not gonna stop anyone. This center is going to help so many people… and I get to be a part of it. I get to be a part of it because of… 

 You looked left and saw that he was already beaming at you. He held his shovel in one hand after the official ground breaking scoop, reaching out to wrap the other around yours. I get to be a part of it because of him. You looked to your right, where Tony had his arm around Juliet. And he gets to be a part of it because of her… Help. Everyone needs help sometimes. And now you’d be a part in making sure that others got that help. The past ten months had been the hardest in your life, and you knew it wasn’t over. But you remembered what Logan had said to you in the hospital, and you turned back to him. 

 “Logan? Remember when you said it would be worth it?” 

 He nodded, eyes on you and smile climbing up into them. 

 “You were right.”

    @something-tofightfor  @its-my-little-dumpster-fire@suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @ymariejp @songtoyou @skwriddle @thesumofmychoices @obscurilicious @ilkaeliseb @belladonnarey 

#the bottom #the bottom part 2 #logan delos #logan delos x you #logan delos x reader #juliet delos #logan westworld #logan delos x reader imagine #logan delos x you imagine #no stigma #submit the stigma #the door

[logans-chestnuts]

As You Are, Part 12*

You were miserable. You missed Logan. You had finally found the man of your dreams and were forced to do to him the one thing that would hurt him the most. You weren’t even sure how you had made the drive to Kate’s uncle’s lake cottage.

You had driven two hours to the cottage. It was not in use and had power and wifi. That was really all you cared about. Kate promised to come spend the weekend with you but she thought you were doing the wrong thing.

“Y/N, that man is not faking it. Do I think you’re moving too fast? Absolutely. But he’s not lying.”

“Neither is his mother. I can’t ruin the lives of everyone I know so I can be with Logan when even his mother says he’s not really into me.”

Kate gave up after you spouted the same circular arguments for a few more minutes. She had known you long enough to know that you needed to think things through.

So you thought and you cried. If Logan loved you, you had hurt him. You broke your promise. Now even if he did love you, he would never trust you not to leave him. When the chips were down, you ran.

He might well be looking for you, might have gone to your office or apartment. And he might be in pain. Because of you.

That really broke you. The possibility that you had caused that brilliant, funny, sweet man to hurt – you hated yourself so much.

Kate had just hung up with you after fifteen minutes of arguing over hiding from Logan. When she had gone Team Logan she didn’t know, but he made her best friend happy. Who was she to question how?

Kate started at the knock on her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Walking to the foyer and looking through the peep hole and seeing Logan really shouldn’t have surprised her. He had found Y/N, he could probably find anyone.

Kate unlocked the door and said, “Logan. What a pleasure.”

“I love her. You get that, right?” he said right off.

“I do, yeah.”

“So tell me where she is. I have a guy working on it but so far he hasn’t found her and I know you know –”

Kate held up her hand to slow the torrent of words from Logan. “Come in.”

Seeing him in person, Kate could definitely see how he had swept you off your feet. Rough edges or no, Logan was gorgeous.

“I do know where she is. And I know why. Convince me it’s not a problem.”

“I just left my parents’ house. There is no problem. I also got this out of my safe deposit box earlier,” he said, talking a ring box out of his pocket. “I love her. I want to give her my Grandmother’s wedding ring. Please.”

Kate mulled it over, then went and got a key and wrote down an address. “Go get her, Tiger.”

Logan kissed her on the cheek before turning to leave. “Thank you!”

You were in bed. It was dark so that was where you figured you should be. But there would be no sleep. Not until you could close your eyes without seeing Logan – sleepy Logan, ornery Logan, angry Logan, horny Logan, perfect Logan. Yet it never occurred to you to wish you hadn’t gone to that coffee shop a week ago. Had it been only a week? How could life change so much in so short an amount of time? A week ago you were sitting on your sofa with Logan, eating pizza and flirting madly.

A week later you were minus one heart and without the man who held it. You had reached rock bottom, convinced that things couldn’t get worse.

And then you heard a noise. Perfect. You were in the middle of an entire neighborhood of deserted lake cottages and a serial killer was breaking in to murder you.

You definitely heard the floor creak.

You rolled out of bed, making as little noise as possible, glancing around for a weapon, spying a stuffed fish mounted on the wall. Really? You looked around again and didn’t see anything else that would work, so you grabbed it and stood behind the door. As it opened and a head peeked in, you slammed the fish down, earning a loud scream from your assailant.

“Motherfucker!”

Wait – you knew that foul mouth! “Logan?” you said, reaching for the lights.

“What the fuck, Y/N, I go crazy looking for you and you bludgeon me with a fish?” he said, holding the back of his head, checking his hand for blood.

You were stunned for a moment, then you dropped the fish and just launched yourself at him. He caught you and pulled you close, kissing you deeply before saying, “You hit me with a fish.”

“I’m sorry, I obviously didn’t know it was you!” you said, kissing his face and neck and any skin you could find.

Logan picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. His hands were on your ass, pulling your core against his already hard cock. He pushed you against the door and kissed you with all the love in his heart, but also with the frustration of the unnecessary separation.

You started trying to undress him, dragging his jacket off his shoulders and pulling his shirt up to get at his collarbones and said, “Bed. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled back, turning around to walk over to the bed, laying you on it and pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside before diving on top of you.

Logan was kissing you, you were tangling your hands in his hair and suddenly he pulled away. “Honey?” you said.

Logan got off the bed and stood before you. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Logan.”

He looked over his shoulder for his jacket, then went and picked it up while you sat up on your elbows and said rather indignantly, “Um, your jacket being on the floor is more important than having sex? Who are you and where’s my Logan?”

When he turned around his jacket was back on the floor and he had a box in his hand. He took a deep breath and walked back to the bed, getting down on one knee.

You gasped and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed.

Logan opened the box to reveal a gorgeous antique ring. “Y/N, my Papouli gave me this ring when my Yaya died. He told me that if I ever found a woman who made me laugh and cry and feel like the most important person in the world, grab her. Then he said that it doesn’t take long to fall in love, but it takes work to stay in love.

“I want to spend the rest of my life doing the work for us to stay in love. I know this is fast, and I know it’s probably crazy, but I know you’re it. I am an impulsive asshole, I know, but this is right. And I need to show you and everyone else that I’m here forever.

“So, Y/N, darling, honey, sweetie, boo, love of my life, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

You framed his face with your hands and kissed him gently, looking deep into his eyes. You knew this was crazy. You knew this was fast. You were not impulsive. You knew that nobody but you and Logan could possibly understand the depths of your feelings. You thought about all of that in an instant and you knew that this sweet, wonderful man was your future, your everything. “Logan Delos, I will be honored to be your wife. I love you, I adore you and I need you. You are the very best accident I ever had.”

“Really?” Logan asked, every part of his face expressing his joy as only Logan could.

You kissed him again, then said, “Really. Yes. I want to marry you. Now get back on the bed with me.”

Logan crawled back on the bed, the look on his face turned predatory. He straddled your waist and you rubbed the straining crotch of his trousers. He groaned, placing his hands under your t-shirt and sliding them up until they each held a breast. You bucked your hips and moaned, then he leaned forward and kissed you hard, finally pushing your shirt off and leaving your breasts bare to his view.

“Finally get to see my tits, huh? All you hoped for?”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, leaning down for a taste. As he pulled at one nipple with his lips and the other with his fingers, you writhed under him and tried to get to his pants.

“Logan, take your pants off.”

“Nope,” he said before going back to your nipples.

And then his mouth started moving down your chest to your abdomen. “I believe I promised to make you come with that pretty pussy in my mouth,” he said as he removed your panties, noting the dampness. “And you used to be such a nice girl. Who corrupted you so,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Put up or shut up. I want your cock inside me,” you snarked back.

Logan actually shivered before he dove face first between your legs and started licking and sucking and nibbling and generally teasing you mercilessly. “Please, Logan, please,” you moaned.

He redoubled his efforts, using his long fingers to find all of your most sensitive spots to tickle and rub until you were a babbling mess, writhing on the bed. “You’re so fucking tight, baby, gonna squeeze my cock so nice.” His voice against your clit pushed you over the edge and you came screaming Logan’s name and your love for him over and over.

When you came back to yourself, you pulled Logan up for a kiss. “Don’t mind the taste?” he asked, as you had.

“Would rather have a mouth full of your cock.”

“Nope. I am making love to you. Now,” he said, finally unbuckling his belt and allowing you to unzip him and pull his cock out, stroking and squeezing it. There was precum dripping from Logan’s cock, which you gathered in your hand and licked up, causing Logan to growl in an almost uncontrolled fashion. He stood up and removed his trousers, his hard cock more than ready to fill you up.

You held out your arms to him, overwhelmed with love for this man. He laid down next to you and you kissed gently, sweetly. “I love you, Y/N. I know what’s been missing from my life now.”

You caressed his scruffy beard and kissed him. “You make me so happy. I love you so much. Thank you for being a creepy, hair-sniffing stalker. I waited for you my whole life.”

Logan smiled his wide, genuine smile that melted your heart, kissed you gently again, then got down to the business of making love to his future wife.

“Maybe we should wait til after the wedding?” you asked impishly.

“If you’re serious I am going to change your mind.”

“Baby, I don’t want to wait another second,” you said, pulling him between your legs.

He stroked his cock a few times, his gorgeous hands on his gorgeous cock making you crazy to feel him inside you. “Now, Logan!” you demanded, pushing him into his back and climbing on top of him, taking his length into your hand and placing it at your entrance.

“Baby girl taking what she wants, I fucking love it,” he groaned, reaching up to squeeze your breasts and thumb your nipples.

You started to slowly slide down onto Logan’s cock, feeling him fill you deliciously. You had truly never been so stretched and it took a moment to be comfortable enough to start moving. Logan moaned at the sensation of your wet pussy squeezing him as you slid up to the tip of his cock, then slowly lowered yourself to hold him completely still while you flexed your inner muscles around him, causing him to groan almost as if in pain.

“Love?” you asked, making sure he was OK.

“Fuck, angel, never stop,” he pleaded.

You picked up the pace then, his pleas igniting your passions to the breaking point. You leaned forward and kissed him, his cock hitting the perfect spot and you started shuddering as he flipped you onto your back, grabbed your knee and draped it over his elbow and started slamming his cock into you. As your orgasm took you, the delicious wet twitching of your pussy on his cock pushed Logan over the edge and he shouted your name as he filled you with his cum.

He lay on your chest, still connected and twitching. You were both panting heavily, hearts beating madly.

When he was able, he lifted his head to look into your eyes. You saw in his eyes reflected all the love and devotion you felt for this man. You caressed his beard and kissed him sweetly.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, so seriously that you felt his emotion.

“I love you, Logan. I will always love you.”

He rolled you against his side and you spent the rest of the night planning the rest of your life.

#ben barnes #Logan Delos #Logan Westworld #Logan Delox x Reader #Logan Westworld x Reader #As You Are

[madamrogersstorytelling]

Get to Know Me & My WIPs

@suchatinyinfinity tagged me to this very interesting piece. Thank you, sweetie! I don’t know is this supposed to be about only one or the current WIP, but since I have a few atm, I’ll going to give my answers with all of them and none of them.

Going to tag some of my fellow writers under my own answers, be warned!

This’ll be a long post, so everything will be found under the cut.

What is your go-to for inspiration when writing?

I tend to look for inspiration from songs, daily life, movies or books. Quotes are good. Sometimes I look for good pictures but haven’t just yet been able to write about a picture. That’s on my list of things to try. But I’d say that songs and daily life.

Which character do you relate to the most?

Of the ones I write for definitely Steve Rogers, Caspian and Ryan Brenner. I’ve always related to Steve. Caspian and Ryan have felt... familiar? Is that the right word? I’m able to recognize parts of them in myself. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to write for them. Also, a part of me relates to Billy but that’s a whole different story. 

Favourite quote by your character?

I’m not able to remember all those quotes I’ve written but I like to write my characters to say meaningful things. Not especially in the way “I love you” but those little meaningful things you say to other person to tell them you care. I really liked writing the first scene for Of New Beginnings’ second part.

A character you want to rave about?

In which way? I can give you both... I can praise a character and I can also be angry at one. You asked haha.

Ryan Brenner doesn’t get enough love. He deserves so much more! He’s so inspiring, sweet and just genuinely a good person. He helps me with a lot in my personal life, he has a place in my heart. I love him. Wish people could give him more love, it’s so sad how few people write for him.

But... Logan Delos. We never stop fighting!! He’s always nagging some nonsense, and I get so angry I mainly just drop the idea in the first place. People tell me my Logan is ic but I... He’s still a bit hard for me to write. Thank you for telling me my Logan is well written, I appreciate that but - he creeps me out a bit haha. No, that sounds wrong... We’ll get to know each other better. I’m gonna write more for him in the future! Logan, I’m coming!!

How do you feel about your project now versus when it was first crafted?

Bold of you to assume I make first drafts... I’ve tried but I’m veryveryvery bad at it. But I sometimes leave a fic for a bit after writing it and then read it again to see if anything needs changing. And of course to proofread. 

Hmm... I guess I could use the idea of planning and plotting the story. And yes, both of my current series, Of New Beginnings and You are a bit different from what they were when I first started planning and plotting. And if I’m being honest, I like how they turned out to be. I have nothing against stories to live. I just want them to end like I had thought they would. Sometimes.

Do you listen to music when you write? if so: name your favourite song to write too.

I do, every time. I cannot write without music. I don’t exactly have a favorite song, it depends on the story. Hans Zimmer, Two Steps from Hell, other instrumental songs are good. I often listen to Nightwish or some pop songs, they usually have suitable lyrics, and I get ideas from them. Sometimes I listen in a different language, Finnish songs when I write in English, sometimes even Swedish songs. Depends on the story and well, my mood as well.

Do you use visuals to help with your content creating?

Some way. I make those aesthetics I put on the masterlists. I’ve always loved making those, have done them for years just for fun. It’s nice to finally attach them to something. Like I said before, I sometimes look for nice pictures that could suit for the story but I cannot write about a picture. Not directly, not only about that one. It’s hard for me. 

Do you have any writing rituals? ( writing at a specific time? a specific routine? )

No other than I prefer to be alone. Me and my music. And I often do it during the day; around noon and 6 or 7 pm. Cannot really write in the evening. Years ago I was able to write until 11 pm but that doesn’t happen anymore. Haven’t really even tried that often. I dream of trying to write the whole night, so let’s see if that ever happens or not. I once or twice tried to be this fancy writer of all the stories, drink red wine while writing. But I honestly looked like Ben Barnes in Seventh Son when he smells that thing in the pocket flask. I hate red wine... Tried alcohol free champagne once too but stuff like that just doesn’t work for me. I’m not this fancy writer. It’s a bit funny, but I had this illusion of red lipstick giving me strenght to write more than before; maybe I should try that again haha. 

Do you share any common interests with any of your characters?

Haha this question is lovely! Well, wrote about Ben liking flowers (don’t really know does he in fact like them or not), but I like flowers. Steve Rogers likes books, and so do I. Chris Evans is known for his love for dogs; I’ve never had a dog but I still love them a lot. I really wish I’d know how to play a guitar, and Ryan plays one. There are these small things with almost every single one of them, some sillier than others. 

Do you have any other projects on your mind? Will we be seeing them anytime soon?

I do have! Many! My list of requests also has some. My requests are open, so don’t be afraid. I won’t bite - too hard at least. I have this new series for Ryan in mind but also the series called I’ll Make a Man Out of You for Caspian coming soon. Also, The First Ones is still unfinished. Well, haha - you could say I have things in mind and coming. But I’m slow, as you may have seen. Sorry about that. But thanks for being patient!

Tagging: @padfootagain @jennareedus @something-tofightfor @suchatinyinfinity @accio-rogers @whostheblondegirl @loricameback @myriadimagines and every single writer who sees this!

#writing tag #i was tagged #tagged #get to know me #get to know me & my wips

[breanime]

ooh fluff 13 and 17 for our boy Logan please and thank you!

*gif not mine*

You watched, a dizzy smile on your face, as Logan redid his tie. God, he looked so good in a tux, those long legs of his cloaked in black, the way the white shirt clung to his chest. He turned to you, grinning at the look on your face. He sauntered over to you, placing a hand on your waist and the other on your chin, titling your head up.

“See something you like, Mrs. Delos?” He purred.

Your entire body felt warm at the name. Mrs. Delos. You smiled up at him, reaching up and smoothing his hair down. Your fingers had just been in it, pulling at the strands as he kissed you, his hips pressed against yours, those fancy pants he was wearing around his ankles and your wedding dress bunched up around your waist. Your legs were still weak from the effects of his attentions, and you could hear the music thrumming against the wall from the reception hall. You leaned up and kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I just can’t believe I have such a perfect husband,” you said back.

His eyes twinkled as he looked down at you, his heart full. Logan never envisioned himself settling down, committing to one person, but with you…the decision was so easy. You made his life meaningful, made every day better, made him feel love without any strings attached; you were his soulmate, and Logan had been more than happy to put his ring on your finger. “I can’t believe I have such a perfect wife.”

“You know,” you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he helped you back into your heels, “I never thought I’d be a wife. I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love, and then I met you,” you watched the smile bloom on his face, and you felt a surge of affection go through you, “You changed my life for the better, Logan.”

“No,” he said softly, rubbing his nose on yours, “you changed mine. When we first met, after Westworld…” He felt you tense up, and that small, involuntary motion just cemented his love for you. You cared about him so much, that even the mention of the place he’d almost died, the place that sparked his near deadly overdose, made your body react. In all of his life, no matter how many people he hooked up with, how many people worked for him, how many people lusted after him or his wealth or some combination of the two—only you ever truly cared for him. “…I felt like my entire life was a waste,” he continued, “My father was done with me, William had usurped my place at the company, even Juliet thought I was a lost cause… I was so wild,” he shook his head at the memories, “I didn’t care what happened to me, as long as I could feel some kind of pleasure, no matter how fleeting it was,” he smiled again, looking into your eyes, feeling solid and whole in your gaze, “…and then I found you. Just… The way you loved me, it was… Even now, when I look at you, I feel calm,” he kissed you, his lips warm on yours, “I just love you so much.”

“I love you too, Logan,” you stepped back—or at least tried to, your husband was not letting you go, “but we should get back, people are going to wonder where we went.”

“Eh, they know where we went,” his hand fell to your ass, cupping it through your ridiculously expensive, custom-made dress that he’d insisted on buying you, “and they know what we did…” His mouth was on your neck now, kissing you as he spoke. “…what we’re gonna do at least three more times tonight before getting on the plane…”

“And then a few more times on the plane,” you predicted, wrapping your arms around him again. You smiled as you felt his fingers, long and warm, on your thigh, playing with your garter. “Logan…”

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you said immediately, no hesitation.

Logan leaned up and kissed you again, his mouth working against yours perfectly, as always. You knew your guests were waiting, but you also knew there was no way you could stop kissing your gorgeous husband so…

…the guests would just have to wait.

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

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