#“so clearly i don't mind stolen content”

[falloutcoys]

And yet, you continue to listen to it. Curious 🤔

[bklynsboys]

Rest On Me (And I'll Lean On You)

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: what surprised the unit chief was that your head, as if drawn by an invisible string, had laid rest on spencer's shoulder—a stray strand of hair tickling his cheek. and not only that, spencer didn't seem to mind, not one bit. or, you fall asleep on spencer's shoulder and the rest of the team sees.

genre: fluff

word count: 1.3k

author's notes: back with another spencer fluff! i miss seeing my baby on my screen. i had to rewatch old episodes right after seeing the new ones because i miss him so bad. anyhow, enjoy reading this one.

RAIN LASHED AGAINST THE WINDSHIELD, BLURRING THE NEON GLOW OF THE CITY LIGHTS INTO A SMEAR. Inside the car, the air was filled with the silence of exhaustion. The BAU just narrowly captured another unsub—fortunately, just in time to save the most recent victim. Hotch, who was driving, glued his eyes to the rearview mirror. He had caught a glimpse of the scene unfolding behind him.

Spencer, usually busy poring through whatever piece of literature on his legs, was nestled into the corner, his head resting against the cool glass of the window. While, you, the newest member of the team, sat beside the male, curled up in the backseat, and brow furrowed in light sleep. Hotch recalled earlier how you were fighting back a yawn and wasn't surprised that he had found you passed out cold.

What surprised the unit chief was that your head, as if drawn by an invisible string, had laid rest on Spencer's shoulder—a stray strand of hair tickling his cheek. And not only that, Spencer didn't seem to mind, not one bit. In fact, a faint blush had dusted his cheeks, and his own eyes, momentarily fluttering open, held a hint of something akin to fondness.

Hotch watched, a small smile tugging at his lips. You and Spencer had been partnered for a particularly grueling case—a string of arsons with a unique signature. The long hours and emotional toll had clearly taken their toll.

Yet, even in exhaustion, an intimacy has bloomed between the both of you. Spencer, ever the gentleman, hadn't moved a muscle, seemingly content to act as a human pillow. On your part, like magnets, you had unconsciously gravitated towards his warmth, your breathing slowing into a peaceful rhythm.

Beside Hotch, a knowing grin spread across Morgan's face in the passenger seat. He glanced back at you and Spencer through the rearview mirror, catching the tender scene. He stifled a chuckle, it was endearing to see the boy genius to be intimate with someone, knowing that he wasn't known to be keen on physical affection.

With a playful nudge to Hotch's arm, Morgan kept his voice low. "Looks like someone found a comfy pillow, Hotch."

Hotch chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving the rearview mirror. "Seems so, Derek. Seems so."

But Morgan, ever the tease, couldn't resist adding another jab. "Just don't drool on him, kid," he called back in a mock-serious tone, knowing full well you were fast asleep.

Hotch shot him a withering look, but a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. He knew Morgan wouldn't disturb the peaceful tableau unfolding in the back. They all needed a moment of rest, a stolen fraction of comfort in the storm.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the rhythmic drumming of the rain. It was then, with a slight bump in the road, that the car dipped, causing Spencer to jostle ever so slightly. His head, as if following the car's movement, dipped as well, and his hair brushed against yours in a soft, unexpected touch.

You stirred in your sleep, a frown momentarily creasing your brow before smoothing out again. Spencer, wide awake now with a jolt of surprised awareness, froze. His hand instinctively reached up to brush the stray strand of hair back from his own face, but his fingers lingered in the air, hovering just above your head.

Heat flooded his cheeks as he realized the intimate position you had found yourselves in. He wanted to apologize, to gently move away, but a strange sense of peace settled over him. You looked so peaceful, nestled against the cool leather, and your brow finally relaxed. The exhaustion of the case seemed etched on your face, a shared burden they both carried.

With a silent sigh, Spencer decided against disturbing your slumber. He leaned his head back against the window, his gaze fixed on the blurry cityscape outside.

The car continued its journey through the city, the gentle sway a lullaby against the harsh symphony of the storm. You drifted deeper into sleep, the weight of Spencer's head on yours a grounding anchor.

As dawn painted the horizon with streaks of pink and orange, the rain finally subsided. Hotch, ever vigilant, announced they were nearing the precinct. Morgan, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, nudged Hotch again. "Think they'll wake up before we get there?" he whispered.

Hotch chuckled. "Knowing them, they'll probably jolt awake the second we stop. But for now, let them sleep."

The car pulled into the familiar parking lot of the BAU headquarters. Hotch gently nudged the brakes, careful not to disturb the peaceful scene in the back.

A trace of sunlight peeked through the clouds, illuminating the interior of the car. It danced across your face, warming your cheek and causing your eyelids to flutter open. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before the events of the previous night flooded back.

A blush crept up your neck as you realized your head was resting on Spencer's shoulder. You were about to mumble an apology when you noticed his head turned towards the window, a thoughtful expression etched on his face.

Gathering your courage, you cleared your throat softly. "Spencer?"

He turned his head slightly, a surprised look flickering across his features before a gentle smile softened his expression. "Good morning."

You felt a tug in your chest, a mixture of awkwardness and something else, something warmer and more exhilarating. The sound of the car door opening startled both of you. Spencer's eyes flew open, a look of surprise mirroring yours.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You felt a renewed warmth bloom in your cheeks. "I… I think so," you stammered, suddenly self-conscious. "How about you?"

Before you got the chance to hear what Spencer had to say, Morgan's voice boomed from behind you. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone slept well."

You scrambled to sit up straight, your face burning. Spencer mirrored your movement, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Uh, good morning, Morgan," you stammered.

"Morning, kids," Morgan chuckled. "Hotch is grabbing coffee. You two coming in, or are you planning on catching some more shut-eye in the parking lot?"

You stole a glance at Spencer, who was gathering his things with a focus that seemed almost deliberate. The memory of his hair brushing against yours sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure if it was the exhaustion of the case or something else entirely, but the shared touch felt undeniably intimate.

"We're coming, Morgan," you called out, your voice a little shaky.

As you were about to exit the car, Spencer held the door for you with a shy smile. "Thanks for letting me, uh, borrow your shoulder," he mumbled, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink.

"No worries, Spencer," you replied, forcing a casual tone. "We both needed the rest. And thank you, as well. I used your shoulder first, so I guess it's only fair I let you borrow mine."

Spencer chuckled at this which caused your cheeks to pinken.

"About earlier," Spencer started. "When you asked me how I'm doing? Much better than I expected, considering the circumstances," he admitted with a hint of a chuckle.

The air crackled with unspoken words, a tension that felt both electric and strangely comfortable. You stole a glance at his profile, the way the soft morning light highlighted the planes of his face.

"That's good," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "We should probably get going."

Spencer seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Right. We have forms to fill up."

Before you could unbuckle your seatbelt, Spencer beat you to it—his hand brushed against yours for a fleeting moment. It sent a jolt through you, a silent echo of the intimacy from the night before.

Stepping out of the car, you took a deep breath of crisp morning air. The city stretched out before you bathed in the golden hues of sunrise.

"Ready to face another day?" Morgan uttered loudly ahead of you, his voice laced with amusement.

You turned to face him, sighing at his teasing. You weren't oblivious to the fact that Morgan liked seeing you and Spencer together. "As ready as I'll ever be, Morgan."

[imloyaltoscoups]

truth or dare | kim mingyu

You and Mingyu are chilling in the living room when he suddenly remarks, "Man, this show is getting kind of boring, don't you think?" You glance over at him, noticing his slight frown as he flicks through the channels with the remote. "Yeah, it's losing its charm," you agree, leaning back into the couch. "Want to switch to something else or do you have any other ideas?" he said.

You shoot Mingyu a mischievous grin, your mind buzzing with an idea, but you hesitate for a moment, debating whether to share it or keep it to yourself. With a playful glint in your eye, you lean in closer, whispering conspiratorially, "I've got an idea that might just spice things up a bit. But you've got to promise not to laugh..."

Mingyu's eyes light up with curiosity as he leans in closer, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, creating a charged atmosphere between you. "Come on, spill it," he murmurs, his voice low and eager. "Is it something naughty? Knowing you, it's bound to be interesting." He flashes you a playful smirk, his breath warm against your skin, waiting for your response.

You push him away with a light shove, though he chuckles in response, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "Hey now, don't be shy," he teases, his laughter bubbling up.

You roll your eyes, a smirk dancing on your lips. "I just want to play truth or dare to deepen our friendship," you say, trying to sound serious but failing as a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a smirk mirroring yours. "Deepen our friendship, huh?" he mocks, his tone teasing. "Sounds like someone's got some secrets they want to spill."

You and Mingyu have been friends for so long, and there's always been an unspoken understanding between you. You've both felt that special connection, that undeniable fondness, but you've never dared to cross the line into something more. Deep down, you know there's something between you, something beyond friendship, but the fear of ruining what you have has kept you from taking that leap.

You've had countless late-night conversations, stolen glances, and moments that lingered a little too long, but you've always brushed them off, burying your true feelings deep inside. The thought of risking your friendship for a romantic relationship is daunting, and neither of you wants to jeopardize the bond you've built over the years.

So, you continue to keep your feelings to yourselves, tiptoeing around the unspoken tension that simmers beneath the surface whenever you're together. It's a delicate dance, one filled with longing and hesitation, but for now, you're content to cherish the friendship you share, even if it means keeping your love hidden away.

"So, who's going first?" Mingyu asks, breaking the momentary silence with a playful grin.

You return his smile, feeling a surge of warmth despite the lingering tension. "Let's do Rock, Paper, Scissors," you suggest, a hint of excitement in your voice. It's a simple game, but it's enough to ease the tension and bring a sense of familiarity back to the conversation.

As Mingyu lost the round, you couldn't help but cheer in victory, a triumphant grin spreading across your face. "Yes! Looks like you're up first," you say, your voice laced with playful teasing.

Mingyu chuckles at your enthusiasm before responding, "Truth."

You playfully roll your eyes, letting out a mock disappointed sigh. "Boooo, truth? Not fun at all," you tease, poking fun at his choice.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey now, just you wait. I'll go for a dare next, just you wait," he replies, his tone confident and playful, hinting at the fun that's yet to come.

As you think of a question to ask Mingyu, a sudden curiosity crosses your mind. You know he is quite active when it comes to sex, but you've never really discussed the details of his intimate encounters. "So, Gyu," you start, trying to sound casual despite the unexpected question, "how many... um, people have you been with?"

Mingyu's expression shifts from amusement to slight shock at the unexpected question, but he recovers quickly, offering a smile. "Well, let's see," he begins, counting on his fingers before giving you his answer.

You can't help but let out a "Really?" in response, your surprise evident in your tone. It's not that you're judging him, but you never realized just how many partners he had been with. It's a revelation that leaves you momentarily speechless, unsure of how to respond.

"So, this is the kind of truth or dare you want, huh?" Mingyu mocks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Well, I don't want the traditional truth or dare. I just want it, hmm, let's say a little bit spicy," you reply, matching his playful tone.

Mingyu smirks, nodding in agreement. "Sure," he replies, his smirk widening. "Truth or dare?"

You don't hesitate. "Dare, for sure," you respond, feeling a thrill of excitement at the prospect of what he might come up with.

Mingyu's face lights up with mischief as he reveals his dare, and your eyes widen in shock at his bold suggestion. "Wait, Mingyu, that's a bit much, don't you think?" you protest, feeling a rush of nervousness at the thought of carrying out his request.

He chuckles, his smirk growing wider. "Hey, you said you don't want traditional, right?" he mocks playfully. "So come on, don't back down now."

You shoot him a glare, a mix of apprehension and defiance in your expression, but ultimately, you decide to play along. With a sigh, you reluctantly comply, removing your shorts and leaving yourself in just an oversized shirt that barely covers your underwear, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

You quickly grab the nearest pillow to cover your lower half, feeling a bit exposed in your current state. With a slightly defiant look, you turn to him and ask, "Truth or dare?"

Mingyu flashes you a charming smile and opens his mouth to say "truth," but before the word leaves his lips, you throw the pillow at him with a playful yet exasperated huff. He catches it effortlessly, a smirk playing on his lips as he places the pillow back over your lower half.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Let's change it up. Dare."

You can't help but roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Fine," you say, contemplating your next move. With a glint of mischief in your eyes, you formulate a not so daring challenge for him, ready to see how far he's willing to go.

"I dare you to remove your shirt," you say with a sly grin, enjoying the turn of events.

Mingyu's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your boldness, but he can't help but chuckle at your cheeky dare. "Is this still truth or dare or strip poker minus the poker?" he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

With a shrug, he complies, smoothly pulling off his shirt to reveal his well-defined abs. You can't help but feel a rush of frustration mingled with something else as you take in the sight. Sure, you've seen him shirtless countless times before, but this time feels different, more intimate. It's lowkey arousing, and you find yourself momentarily lost for words, the air between you charged with newfound tension.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you contemplate your next move. "Truth or dare?" he asks, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing that if you ask for a dare again, he might take it to another level, and you're not sure you're ready for that. So, with a slight flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, you decide to play it safe. "Truth," you say, opting for the safer option this time.

He nods, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he leans back on the couch thinking what will he ask you, his left arm resting casually on the sofa while he taps it with his fingers, the picture of relaxed confidence. You can feel the wetness forming through your underwear at the sight, a subtle reminder of the tension simmering between you.

Mingyu's question catches you off guard, and you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his boldness. "What do you think about me sexually?" he asks, his tone teasing yet curious. "And have you ever had a wet dream about me?"

Your heart races at the daring nature of his inquiry, and you quickly try to regain your composure. "Hey, one question at a time," you retort, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I can only answer one."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts before responding. "Well," you begin, choosing your words carefully, "sexually, I think you're... intriguing. There's definitely an attraction there." You pause, feeling a rush of nerves at your confession.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing on his lips as he waits for your answer regarding the wet dream question.

"It's your turn," you tell him, deflecting his question about the wet dream with a playful smile.

Mingyu chuckles at your evasion. "Alright, fair enough," he concedes. "Okay, okay, I'll choose truth since you're playing it safe."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief that he's opting for a more straightforward question this time. But deep down, you can't shake the lingering curiosity about what might have been if he had pressed further.

You take a deep breath, your throat feeling suddenly dry as you muster up the courage to ask the question that's been lingering in your mind. "Have you ever had a wet dream about me?" you inquire, your voice slightly shaky despite your attempt to sound nonchalant.

As you wait for Mingyu's response, you reach for the water on the table, your fingers trembling ever so slightly. His answer comes quicker than you expected, and it almost catches you off guard. "All the time," he replies with a playful grin, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Your hand freezes mid-air, the cup of water perilously close to tipping over as his words sink in. With a swift motion, you steady the drink, taking a big gulp to hide your surprise. You manage to swallow without spilling a drop, but the shock is evident in your expression.

You meet Mingyu's gaze, trying to play it cool as he smile innocently. However, your mind is racing with a million thoughts, wondering what exactly he means by "all the time."

Feeling a surge of nervous energy, you head to the kitchen to grab some cans of beer, hoping that a little liquid courage will help you navigate the increasingly charged atmosphere between you and him. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, his gaze lingering on your every move, and it only serves to heighten the tension.

Returning to the sofa, you place the cans of beer on the table without a word, and Mingyu doesn't question your sudden choice of beverage. He simply grabs a can, pops it open, and takes a long gulp, the sound of the fizz filling the air.

As he finishes his drink, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze still fixed on you. "Should we continue?" he asks, his voice low and husky, the unspoken tension crackling between you like electricity.

"Dare," you say, feeling a rush of anticipation coursing through your veins as you set the can down, ready for things to escalate.

Mingyu's eyes gleam with mischief as he accepts the challenge, his lips curling into a devilish grin. "I dare you to sit on my lap," he declares, his voice low and teasing.

You gulp, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you stand up, still clutching the pillow that covers your lower half. Slowly, you make your way over to where Mingyu is sitting, his gaze burning into yours as he taps his lap, silently urging you to take the plunge.

With a shaky breath, you lower yourself onto his lap, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes, sending shivers down your spine. As you settle into his embrace, he gently removes the pillow from your grasp, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You give Mingyu's hand a playful smack, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you protest, "Hey, that's not part of the dare!"

He just chuckles at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he raises his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, no need to get feisty," he teases, his tone light.

But then, he raises an eyebrow suggestively, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why don't you dare me to let me place my hand on your thighs then?" he suggests, his voice low and husky, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Your heart races at the suggestion, torn between the thrill of the dare and the apprehension of where it might lead. With a nervous laugh, you meet his gaze, your own eyes dancing with excitement. "Okay, then. I dare you," you say, the words coming out in a breathless whisper, "to place your hand on my thigh."

"Sure, if you say so," Mingyu responds, a hint of excitement evident in his voice as he complies with your dare.

His hand returns to your thigh, but this time, it's not just resting there; it's caressing, moving up and down in a slow, tantalizing motion that sends shivers down your spine. You bite your lip, trying to suppress a gasp at the sensation.

"Truth or dare?" he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Dare," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Face me," he commands gently, his tone sending a thrill of anticipation through you.

Following his instructions, you shift your position, straddling his lap as he remains seated, facing each other. As you settle into his embrace, you feel your shirt ride up slightly, exposing your underwear. Mingyu's hands find their way to your waist, holding you firmly as you feel the unmistakable pressure of his bulge against you.

The sensation sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can feel yourself getting wet as desire courses through your veins. With every movement, every touch, the tension between you escalates, and you know that this game of truth or dare is about to take a decidedly steamy turn.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you muster up the courage to continue the game. "Truth or dare?" you ask Mingyu, your voice slightly shaky.

"Truth," he replies, his gaze locked with yours, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

"What kind of kisser are you?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Mingyu's lips curl into a smirk as he considers his response. "Do you want to find out?" he asks suggestively, his hand squeezing your waist gently.

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. "Well, I did ask, so.. yeah" you reply bravely, meeting his gaze with determination.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, the tension between you palpable. His arousal only fuels your own, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

A shiver runs down your spine as Mingyu's whispered words caress your ear, his voice laced with a hint of teasing affection. "Being brave now, huh? Is it, babe?" he murmurs, his warm breath sending a delicious tingle down your spine.

The affectionate term catches you off guard, and you feel your stomach flutter at the sound of it. He rarely uses such endearments, reserving them for moments when he wants to tease you or express a deeper level of intimacy. Hearing it now, in the midst of this charged atmosphere, sends a rush of warmth coursing through you, and you can't help but lean into his touch, craving more of his intoxicating presence.

"One of us should be brave," you tease, trying to maintain a hint of playful banter despite the growing intensity between you.

Mingyu's hand continues its slow exploration beneath the fabric of your shirt, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. His warm breath tickles your neck as he hums in agreement to your suggestion.

You feel his lips brush against your collarbone, the exposed skin tingling at his touch. A small gasp escapes your lips as he presses a gentle kiss to the sensitive area, eliciting a low curse from him.

"I've wanted this to happen for so long," Mingyu admits, his voice thick with desire as he moves to your neck, peppering it with small, teasing kisses.

You place your hand on his face, halting his advances and meeting his gaze with a smirk of your own. "So, will I finally get to know what kind of a kisser you are?" you tease, your voice laced with anticipation.

Mingyu's eyes sparkle with amusement as he leans back slightly, his smirk widening. "Guess you'll just have to find out," he replies, his tone teasing yet filled with promise.

The tension between you crackles in the air as you share a knowing look, both fully aware of the unspoken desire simmering beneath the surface. With a playful glint in your eyes, you lean in closer, closing the distance between you, ready to discover just how skilled of a kisser Mingyu truly is.

As Mingyu's lips gently meet yours, a surge of longing washes over you, and you realize just how long it's been since you've shared a kiss like this. His touch is soft yet insistent, coaxing you to lean into the embrace of his lips.

You feel a flutter in your chest as the kiss deepens, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. Sensing your hesitation, Mingyu pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of tenderness and desire.

"Remember to breathe," he murmurs, his voice husky with emotion, as he brushes his thumb against your cheek in a gentle caress.

You let out a shaky breath through your nose, the sensation grounding you in the present moment as you lean back in, surrendering to the intoxicating warmth of Mingyu's kiss.

The kiss deepens, becoming more fervent and passionate as Mingyu's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Your own arms intertwine around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours.

Feeling bold, Mingyu's hand trails down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. As he bites your lower lip, a gasp escapes your lips, allowing him access to deepen the kiss further. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you taste the mingling of his saliva with yours, the sensation sending a thrill coursing through your veins.

Unconsciously, your hips begin to move, seeking more contact, more friction. He responds with a low groan, his own arousal evident as you feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you. The realization of the desire between you ignites a fire within, and you find yourself grinding against him, seeking more of the delicious friction that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you both.

As you continue to move back and forth, the intensity of the moment heightens, and Mingyu's hands tighten around your waist, his hips meeting yours in a synchronized rhythm. The friction between you builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your tongues dance together in a heated battle for dominance, each movement fueling the growing desire between you. Mingyu's groans and hissed praises only add to the intoxicating atmosphere, his words sending shivers down your spine.

"Good girl," he murmurs between heated kisses, his voice thick with desire. "So good, baby. I can't wait to feel you around me," he adds, his words sending a jolt of anticipation through you.

You can feel your wetness dripping down your legs as you move faster, the pleasure building to a fever pitch. Mingyu's grip on your waist tightens, his own arousal evident as he matches your movements with increasing urgency.

With a final, desperate grind, you both reach the peak of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming as you cling to each other, panting and breathless. You can feel your fluids slipping through your underwear, mingling with Mingyu's cum visible on his fabric.

"I can't wait to put my cock inside you," he whispers huskily, his words sending a thrill of excitement through you as you come down from the dizzying heights of pleasure, both of you eager for what comes next.

You rest your head against Mingyu's neck, still trying to catch your breath after the intense moment you shared. His suggestion of resting makes sense, and you nod in agreement, feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through your body.

"Let's rest for a bit," he suggests, his voice husky with desire as he gently strokes your hair.

You meet his gaze, your eyes full of lust and hunger, a silent understanding passing between you. The desire to continue what you started pulses through your veins, igniting a fire within you.

"Maybe we should continue this in my bedroom," Mingyu suggests, his voice low and seductive, his eyes smoldering with desire.

You swallow hard, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of what's to come. With a nod, you agree, your heart pounding with anticipation as you both make your way to his bedroom.

As you stand in front of him, the tension between you palpable, Mingyu's gaze meets yours, filled with hunger and lust. He licks his lips, your eyes trailing down to his pants where you can see the evidence of your shared desire, his cum seeping through the fabric, mingling with the wetness that you've contributed. Heat floods your cheeks as you meet his gaze again, seeing the raw lust burning in his eyes, mirroring the desire coursing through your own veins.

"You look so hot like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal as he starts talking dirty, his words sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

The anticipation builds, and you can't help but feel yourself growing more aroused by the second, eager for what comes next in this steamy encounter with Mingyu. You both silently acknowledge that this game of truth or dare has taken a turn you never expected or you did.

....... ≿━━━━༺MINGYU༻━━━━≾ .......

[fairyrcts]

TAKING WHAT'S NOT YOURS , C.S.

by fairyrcts contents - intended lowercase , 3rd person , use of y/n , oral (m recieving) , cursing , theft , praising

an - just conjured this up outta nowhere

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274 (header by @issysh3ll )

y/n walked into high end jewelry store. her hair was up in a gold clip, her hand, neck and fingers dripping in gold as well.

it was clear to see she had money. not her own, obviously. she looked like your typical 'daddy's money' girl.

she browsed around the store, the bell ringing once more as a signal that someone else had walked in.

y/n paid no mind to it as she took a pretty good pendant in her hand. she looked around quickly before shoving it in her valentino white bag.

continuing to 'borrow', as she put it, she put more and more simple, gold jewelry into her purse. when turning around from the small earring stand, she'd accidently bumped into a man.

"anyone ever taught you not to sneak up on a lady like that?" she remarked quickly. at the sudden scare, she'd let the tight grip go on her purse as it loosely hung on her arm.

the new angle of the bag gave chris a good look into it. it was packed with stolen things that were all once on display.

"anyone ever taught you not to steal?" chris cheekily smirked at the girl in front of him.

her eyes went wide and her cheeks turn a shade of light pink. "what makes you think i'm stealin'?"

"oh, i dunno, maybe the tons of jewelry in your bag or the fact i just witnessed you." he rocked himself from heel to toe with his hands in his pockets.

"i- look, don't say nothin'. please." y/n rolled her eyes and pretended to be annoyed to hide her nervousness.

"why should i, though? i mean, i don't see why i shouldn't do the right thing. do you?" his smirk reappeared on his face before y/n scoffed.

"i'll do anything, just- please?"

"anything?"

damn it, she probably shouldn't have said that.

"well, i'm not a prostitute, asshole. just, whatever. what do you want?" she was clearly done with this. she mentally cursed herself for even getting caught in the first place

chris chuckled at her comment slightly. he grabbed her hand and began walking.

"what's your name?" he asked the girl who clearly didn't want to be in this predicament.

"y/n, why?"

"so i say the right name while ya blowin' me." he turned his head and shot her a wink. y/n looked outright disgusted.

but she wasn't complaining. not that this was her preferred method of blackmail, but she didn't mind it.

chris dragged her to one of the family bathrooms in the mall and locked the door behind them.

"a family bathroom, how cliche." she spoke as she looked around the small, square room.

"ya alright with this?" chris asked before he started to unbuckle the belt that was holding up his jeans.

"yeah, i don't care." she rolled her eyes while he slipped out of his pants, throwing them to the side.

"on ya knees."

"i'm sorry, and get my knees black from this floor? i don't think so." y/n crossed her arms, a pout on her lips.

"wanna try that again? less bratty this time, hm?" he spoke lowly, a smirk playing on the boy's lips.

she rolled her eyes once more. ultimately, she got on her knees, her dress riding up her thighs as she kneeled.

chris smiled down at her as he tugged off his calvin klein boxers, his dick sticking upright.

y/n's went wide, blinking a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing thing. she slowly began swirling her tongue along his tip, chris's head going back.

she removed her lips to spit on the boy's cock, using her hand to stroke it even. she put what she could fit into her mouth, her hand going up along the rest of his shaft.

chris's hand instinctly moved down to her hair, grabbing a handful and gently tugging it. moans started erupting from his mouth at the feeling of her lips bobbing on his length.

"ooh, fuck. y/n, damn it!" his bottom lip quivering as he spoke small praises to the girl.

his movements became more aggressive as he thrusted his hips in her mouth and yanked her hair while she sucked him off.

chris's sentences were now incoherent. y/n had tears streaming down her face as she still looked up into his lustful eyes. she gagged on his cock before he came without warning.

the warm liquids filled her mouth while she swallowed them down, a gasp leaving her mouth afterwards.

y/n stood up and brushed her knees off, chris catching his breath as he leaned against the wall behind him.

"you should start stealin' more often." he spoke, breathless.

"you should start catching me more often." she smiled up at him.

"i'm chris, nice to meet you." his words caused the two of them to laugh.

[eluxcastar]

can we get more dadtore fics plz?🤭🤭🤍🤍

Dadtore and his raccoon child

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: dadtore gets his coat stolen and quite possibly has a mild existential crisis at the realisation he is a present and available father

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, reader’s backstory is ambiguous, it's finally acknowledged they don't talk but feel free to ignore that, sorta proofread (omg finally I edited something)

୨୧﹑words :: 1.9k

I went to publish this and realised I lost all my dividers because I'm on a new laptop so I'm gonna have to go get those back 😭😭

anyway baby has officially graduated to raccoon status because each day this child grows more feral and will continue to do so 🫵 I'm surprised I even managed to write this cause I've been calling so many grown men babygirl lately Idk what even makes one say that about König from Call of Duty but I do

Whether against your will or the result of some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome, you have somehow come to love the days spent with him. It scares him more than he'd like, knowing that your life rests in his hands, even more so that that bothers him, yet he has been unable to remain especially angry with you.

No matter what you do, what buttons you push, and how much you've forced him to rearrange his lab to practically babyproof it, his desire to consider you a pest dies. It has rapidly died since he realised you clung to him so tightly when you became ill, even if it turned out to be only a low-grade fever that you were free from in a day or two. Something about it made the growing bond he had noticed and his fondness for you skyrocket, and it all happened right under his nose while he was distracted with making you comfortable and keeping you company.

Dottore never thought he'd have a doorframe close to one of the shelves in his lab marred by the marker-made scribbles of a height tracker specifically to tell him when it's time to cram everything up another shelve, yet it's there. He sees it whenever he swivels his chair in that direction or when the segments poke at it, mildly intrigued by his interest.

He can't trust some of them yet — not with you — the ones he does trust are almost entirely uninterested in you because that keeps you safe. His segments can't gain anything from a child who only annoys them by trying to hug their leg until they shove you away. From there, you can sense that they don't want to play from the glares you get that send you scurrying back to whatever corner has the reject dolls Sandrone gave him to mock him for his soft spot, so they don't care.

Despite wishing you were little more than a lingering annoyance he could palm off to the first available parental figure, you trust him so implicitly, and he's falling victim to your charms each time you stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder to spy on him like you're so sneaky, even when he can clearly see you looming out of the corner of his eye. You show interest and want to be around him, to loiter despite knowing you will receive only acknowledgement as he talks to you.

Returning to the lab reveals that you seem to have stolen his coat again — at least, that's what he gleans from its migration from the back of his chair to the floor — though he does not particularly mind even as you drag it back to your little set of chairs set up in the corner for you to play with.

Whatever tables did to you, Dottore has yet to figure out how it made you want to shove the little table you have over there so violently all the time. In your defence, it is usually in the way, and maybe it did something to deserve it that has you holding a grudge, but it's irrelevant as you position your little chairs and drape his coat over the backs of them to make a roof for your hideout.

A child's cubby.

At some point, he noticed you took to childish things like that, even when you didn't do that before, almost like you became more…childish. It's welcome. You warm up to the safety of his care and the joy of goading him into entertaining you.

He used to bar the younger segments from making those forts as they'd put them everywhere and neglected to return the items they grabbed to do so. You are not exactly better, though you tend to use appropriate materials. It is preferable to their habits of senselessly trying to stack things on top of each other and then getting confused as to why they would all fall down when a chasm to crawl inside of does not magically appear in the absence of intentional planning.

There's a reason he's Il Dottore and not Il Ingegnere.

The stealing does not change, however.

Dottore approaches your cubby, intent on investigating this fort you've crafted with the help of his coat. He realises you're humming when he gets closer, as you have been a lot lately. You make more noises now. Not quite words, but noises, and that's more than enough for now. He'd like to hold a proper conversation with you at some point, but you won't even say your own name, let alone keep up a whole verbal conversation that doesn't require a game of charades.

"Just what are you doing?" he asks, and the moment he does, you've grabbed the overcoat from where you had balanced it and run off giggling.

You narrowly escape him, settling off by his chair where you had first obtained the coat — a fickle cat-and-mouse game that will inevitably end one of two ways — you seem intent on keeping that coat, however. He watches as you burrow amidst the thick fabric of the overcoat you mischievously stole from him, the furs tickling your cheeks and warming you up as it sits bunched around your tiny body in a heap of cloth. It engulfs you as you are, but you always like it.

What bothers him so much is that if you were any other child pulling these stunts and creating trouble, Dottore would have found some way to get rid of you by now — he could've given you to the Knave. He can't. He's tried. He tried so hard, even attempting to justify it with his own fondness by convincing himself it would be for your own good. He even talked to her about it at one point, and she almost stole you, thinking the worst, before she realised how spoiled you were by Dottore's standards.

Selfishly, he couldn't do it. He couldn't bear it, even when he told himself Arlecchino would take better care of you than he could ever.

So you're still here, still interrupting his vital work to play a mockery of hide-and-seek where you manage to be the worst yet most endearing hider he could possibly seek, burrowing yourself out of sight beneath his coat as your head disappears and you lay flat on your stomach. A pest. That's what you should be. He stalks toward you like you are a tiny pest hunted by an eager cat waiting to catch you, but stops just before you.

It is nowhere near Dottore's nature to loudly question what this stray pile of laundry is doing lying around, nor can he bring himself to try baby-talking you in that singsong voice people use for children, so he kneels in front of you instead, lowered to your eye level. You wouldn't particularly appreciate it if he did pick up that ear-grating habit anyway.

The overcoat writhes as if a creature stirs beneath it, and you poke your head out to greet him with a slowly forming cheeky grin that devolves into giggles as you realise you are caught. You duck back into the safety of his coat, burrowing amidst its comfort and returning to hiding.

He cannot possibly keep the amused huff he lets out from escaping at the sound of your giggling before shaking his head. "Are you going to come out?" he asks. Of course not. You are going to squirm under there until he pulls you out. "Insufferable little thing," he mutters half-heartedly. He's unable to find the will to be truly angry with you, though he never really was in the first place, merely relenting at your silence.

Dottore rests his other knee on the ground and steals his coat from your little hands. With it, you shortly follow as you are collected in his arms and perched on his lap as he sits back in his chair, leaving you poorly balanced yet able to shift yourself into a comfortable spot where you won't fall. Dottore wraps his coat snugly around you, just as you had done before, and lets you settle into place.

You're so small, pacified by his arms around you to reluctantly grant you the hug he knows you want. You like those. He realised that when all you wanted in your sickness-fuelled stupor was for him to cradle you in his arms and let you lean against him. Something about it makes you look so vulnerable. You need someone who can care for and protect you despite your ability to care for yourself; he is the woefully imperfect choice who should not want to take on that task but who may be uniquely suited to it because of that.

'Damaged' children who have had to adapt to the shortcomings of others do not benefit solely from perfection but can become suffocated by it. They need something that suits their unusual need for guidance without expectation of normalcy. He's living it now as his inexperience with this idea of a family forces him to confront imperfection — dismal humanity.

You will never be like a child raised in a perfect family, nor can you offer him complete dependence and vulnerability; he doesn't mind that. In exchange, he will never be your perfect father figure. He will cradle you with his imperfection and wish that this feeling makes you happy if nothing else.

You offer what you want, and he takes what is given because he wants it. Badly, he wants it, even if he is unwilling to admit the possibility of that being real.

He wants to stay like this, to keep picking you up, even when lifting your weight and gathering you in his arms grows harder each time. He wants to watch you nestle against him, mark your height on the doorframe every month, take care of you when you're sick, worry about someone other than himself, and make room for you in a place where there should be none. He wants to give you what you were almost robbed of, see you make friends and smile each day.

For now, he must start small, no more than sitting in front of what probably looks like jumbled garbage to you and resting his hand on the back of your head to pull you closer in a rare show of affection. Gentle. He is entirely unused to the idea of being gentle and protective of something that lives and breathes.

Dottore hates the very idea of your existence meaning something to him — a visceral reaction to the unfamiliar — but cannot resist the vulnerability of it all, the thought of loving someone who loves him back in a way he has yet to fathom, though he is not so presumptuous as to mindlessly believe you love him, even now. You would not be asked to point to your father and turn to him, but you don't have to. Something in that thought is exciting, a desperate grasp at unconditional love from something he cares for, even against his will, but this middle ground somewhere between babysitter and father is as comfortable as anything he wants will get.

[cannellee]

alpha mikey with an omega who saw him with another omega who was all over him and he wasn't pushing the omega away so she runs away to kazutoras place crying?

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! kazutora x omega! reader (ft. alpha! mikey)

— how kazutora reacts to mikey's infidelity and how he comforts his omega

(I made mikey a bad person here, I hope that's what you had in mind, and not a misunderstanding/miscommunication trope?)

tw : cheating, angst to comfort

my masterlist : ☆

mikey never was one for huge displays of affection with you, or anyone for that matter. that's why you never actively questioned his lack of interest in hugging or touching you. you were just content the man accepted your courting gifts and let you stay by his side.

nonetheless, you couldn't help the growing pit in your stomach whenever he went out at night for one of his so called meeting. he always came back in the early morning, although emma's alpha always came back soon enough for then to spend the night together.

you also couldn't help for the troubled thoughts to make their way into your brain, screaming at you whenever he left you alone, anxious and neglected.

he was always there when you woke up, dark bags under his eyes, ruffled hair and crumpled clothes. he barely greeted you, excusing himself to go shower instead.

what he did all night long was a mystery. you could imagine anything all you wanted, mikey was like a closed book, never allowing anyone to look past cold facade.

it always was that way. but you foolishly thought that, with time and with a genuine affection for him, mikey would let himself relax and eventually confide to you.

however that day never came, and you were left in the dark by your own boyfriend. your relationship didn't even look like one, he barely scented you, the only hints of him on you were the stolen sweatshirts he carelessly left in his room. you took them in your nest quietly, making sure he never saw you doing so.

you remembered kazutora's advices on the matter. he would constantly tell you to just leave, that he was only making you miserable. "you don't deserve how he makes you feel".

he was always there to comfort you, to lend you a shoulder to cry on. he was quick to understand when something was wrong. and yet, despite his realistic warnings, you never really listened to him.

you felt like you were constantly walking on eggshells around mikey, deeply afraid to mess something up, and that all of your doubts would come true.

but your fear consumed you fully. and dread and curiosity made a bad combination. you didn't know what took over you when you left your apartment door a minute or two after him.

the cold air washed over you, sharply guiding you down the stairs, eyes slowly adjusting to the dark around you. you shivered, walking as softly as you could.

you stayed behind a huge statue during the whole meeting. you watched how he fiercely yelled at the kanto members, his voice raising cheers of approbation before the assembly was dissolved.

you remained hidden, observing everyone leaving, except for a few captains. they sat down on the stairs of the temple, with mikey towering over everyone.

you didn't know what to expect when a few more people joined in, clearly not affiliated with the gang considering their lack of uniform. you frowned upon the strange sight, some men you never saw and two girls.

you wondered what they were doing here when even you was not allowed to show up.

you waited, and pondered, and watched carefully and wait- what's going on? what are they doing ?

surely it wasn't what you thought right? you took in the scene before you, a veil covering your mind making it unable for you to think clearly.

why did it feel so cruel when it was something you actually already imagined happening whenever you were left in the empty space of your bed, whenever you couldn't know what he was up to.

you stood frozen in shock. her chest was pressed against him, she was whispering things you could only hate to imagine, hands caressing his thighs with a sultry look on her face.

your heart pounded hard in your own chest, the scene unfolding before you was like a cold shower. the intimate proximity made you feel nauseous and before you could even react, you body moved on its own and you left the place without looking back.

with tears in your eyes, you could still make out mikey's face : neutral, blank. it felt as if the omega embracing him didn't matter. it could've been you, or her. in the end, to him it was all the same.

you ran and ran, going as far as you could, not wanting to go home. you didn't want to come across him, to smell him, see him. you just wanted to dug yourself a hole and never come out of it.

your blurred vision made you stop in your tracks, heavily panting both from the rapid race you just experienced and the overwhelming wave of emotions consuming you.

you wished someone could just come and comfort you, the way you always dreamt mikey would do. you tried so hard to imagine a life he could never give you. it was hopeless and naive to believe he would change for the best. for you. you would laugh at yourself if you weren't feeling this low.

you started walking again, slower this time. you watched as you passed in front of the closed stores and neon lights. the familiar path guiding you to where you found solace the days you needed warmth the most.

you were exhausted, too tired to keep going on your own. you knocked on his door, waiting in silence and quiet sniffles. you heard noises coming closer behind the wall, and finally the door cracked open, revealing a freshly woken up kazutora.

you looked up at him, meeting his surprised face. "y/n ? hey, what's wrong? he asked, confused. it was the middle of the night, of course he would react this way. still you didn't have any plan to leave. this days, kazutora was the one giving you the most peaceful moments you've ever felt. that's why you ran up to him in your panicked state.

one, then two. and then you started shedding tears, salty drops rolling down your cheeks. your flushed face, dazed gaze and shivering form was a sight kazutora didn't expect to witness.

he had seen you broke down in tears in front of him a couple of times, but never quite like this. he didn't even have to question you, you didn't have to muster a single thing, kazutora knew what would make you seek out his home rather than yours.

"hey there, it's okay you can cry all you want, I've got you...", he wrapped his arms around you, dragging you inside the mellow comfort of his home. you let yourself be guided by his arms, going meekly along with him.

his chest felt nice, his reassuring scent felt nice, and that was all you needed after tonight. you were vulnerable, all your senses alert and distressed, instincts desperately searching for consolation and calm.

he carried you to his room with a gentleness that felt foreign. he laid you down in his bed, watching you for a moment.

"it's because of him, isn't it?" you nodded, not trusting your voice. he sighed, heart aching from seeing his favourite omega so miserably sad.

kazutora knew he wasn't the best person alive, especially after what his younger self did. but somehow, witnessing mikey breaking apart the only person he genuinely loved and cared about, bothered him greatly, to the point that he would've already confronted mikey about if it weren't for you and your desire to protect your alpha.

he felt sick in his stomach that such a sweet omega like you, could still look at mikey with hope and pure adoration in your eyes. even after how badly he treated you.

kazutora begged you several times to just leave him, frustration eating him up alive. couldn't you see how fucked up mikey is? he was beyond saving and he didn't even love you.

on the other hand, kazutora never missed a chance to show you patience and care. he made sure you could always find peace beside him, the thought of being your escape to your sad life consoled him.

he wished he was able to do much more for you. but you made it clear that he wasn't to interfere in your life. kazutora, despite how benevolent he is, couldn't suppress his instincts, constantly screaming at him to just snatch you away from this life you didn't deserve.

but he refrained himself, not wanting to attract your resentment. so he let it all happen, offering his support each time mikey's behaviour forced you to feel dejected.

but now he had you. he could feel the breaking point in your relationship with mikey. he sensed everything was all over.

"it's okay now, I'm here, and I'll never let anyone harm you again. I promise you", he could now watch over you, like he always wished.

he caressed your cheek, and you leaned into his soft touch. your breathing stilled, scent taking back its usual honeyed smell. you visibly relaxed, and with you, kazutora's face softened as well.

he successfully stopped your tears, "do you feel better now?" he asked you in a whisper.

"yes, I'm sorry for waking you up 'tora...", you watched him take your smaller hand in his, his thumb tracing soft circles on its back.

he reassured you, told you it was fine and that he was glad you looked for him instead of going back to that place and bottling up everything.

"are you going to go back there ?"

"what ?"

"you shouldn't y/n, he's an asshole. stay here, I'll take care of everything until you feel ready to move on. you won't have to worry about anything." he pleaded, eyes desperate to see you accept his offer.

kazutora just couldn't bare the thought of you going back to that bastard. you didn't have a home anymore now that things turned out this way, surely you would rely on him now ? he could show you how much better he can take care of you, he'll show you that he pays attention to you, to your interests, you'll never have to feel neglected again. he'll show how an alpha should have treated you.

you felt really comfortable in his embrace, allowing his fingers to run across your skin, kind hands brushing a strand of hair behing your ear.

you watched as he looked down at you fondly and you wondered how he could look at you that way, when mikey never once did. what about you made kazutora so worried about your safety and well being? did you even deserve such affection ?

he was always so gentle with the way he talked to you, choosing his words carefully as to make you feel comfortable. never crossing any lines, always so kind with his actions. you wondered when he started looking at you that way, but thinking about it, it seemed he always had a certain sadness lurking in his eyes whenever he watched you leave to join mikey.

"wouldn't that bother you?"

"of course not. you're really precious to me. keeping you safe is all that matters. please let me show you that I can protect and love you the way you deserve to be"

you closed your hands on his, smiling to yourself. genuine love felt great. "okay... thank you 'tora".

kazutora took that as his cue to come closer to you, cherishing the new proximity with you. he breathed in your scent he came to crave, putting his chin on top of your head after kissing your forehead softly.

more of his pheromones spread out, enveloping you in his fuzzy and warm scent which never failed to put you in a different kind of headspace.

being vulnerable around him was okay. you felt safe. and kazutora wouldn't have it any other way, having already promised himself that he would never let his sweet omega go through something like this again.

[idkfitememate]

We don't have nearly enough kaeya content with boar!creator, so why not have him klee and boar go on a picnic? (What? No, Springvale isn't on fire in the background, what do you mean?) Or maybe boar accidentally helps him get out of paperwork just by existing, idk lol

Kaeya Encounter

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader x Kaeya

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 118

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff & Crack

This was a nice change of pace in Kaeya’s mind.

Instead of finding you in Jean’s office, he found you in his. Napping away on a pile of pillows you had clearly stolen from around the room.

He silently left the room and came back a few minutes later with a bowl filled to the brim with different fruits and veggies. He placed a napkin onto of it, and placed it beside you.

Then, he took off his jacket and laid on your body. Petting your hair, he gently closed all windows and lit a couple candles to make sure it was extra cozy. After, he sat down and began paperwork.

Sometimes even Gods of chaos need rest.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Idk I just felt like instead of throwing this man into the usual chaos of Boar!Creator, we should give him a break I mean… all his current interactions with him have been pain or chaos. He (unlike all other adults of Mond) deserved a chance to see them in a better light lol. Also he gets enough chaos from Klee anyway ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

[crescenthistory]

#3 with Lee please!!!

hi sweetheart! in reference to your other ask, no worries about forgetting to put the letter, and thank you for your request<33 i love any and all excuses to write for my love lee

Prompt: E.3 "Is this okay?"

Words: 2k

Warnings: not proofread, smutty (mdni), kissing, touching/groping, nipple play, implied oral, very fluffy foreplay, hair pulling and skin scratching (lee receiving, he is a masochist you cannot change my mind), small choking reference, doting, not a lot of dialogue, cannibalism and homelessness references (bestie this is bones & all)

Note: in my mind, this is you and i, we've grown comfortable here lee and reader's first time. also, asking consent is so hot

Your nose is flooded with the scent of wildflowers and gasoline as the thick air lays heavily around you.

You chose a shabby bar nearby for dinner, the kind of place where people don't look too closely at strangers. It had been loud inside, stifling. The jukebox in the corner was playing some old country tune that didn’t quite fit the mood, but you did not bother to care. Lee led you to a booth toward the back, hand firmly in yours. The wooden seat stuck to the backs of your thighs and your eyes flicked all over, trying to take the place in.

When you ordered, you made a point of brushing your hand against his. The tiniest spark, but enough to let him know what you were thinking. When you leaned into him to talk over the noise of the bar, your lips too close to his ear, it had taken everything in you to pull back and act like it wasn’t deliberate. You saw the way his eyes lingered, how his hand tightened around the glass he was holding.

Lee always picked up on those small gestures, especially the ones you barely knew you were making. It almost scared you how much this boy could read your mind, how well he knew you by now – but even more so, it enticed you and softened your aching heart.

The night flurried away with the familiarity of the unfamiliar. The half-decent meal was devoured, a few drinks some guy sent your way was shared by you and Lee, your hands never not on the other's skin somehow. Eventually, you felt you had waited enough to pull him with you out of there, longing for fresh air, silence and him.

Months ago, you decided on a schedule where you try to scrape in enough money to stay in a shitty motel one night every two weeks. It came about when your back pain worsened and Lee grew worried for you, even when you told him it was no problem.

"If we can ease your pain in any way, that's what we're gonna do, sweetheart." You were simply not allowed any objections.

Motel nights were a small luxury, so it was bound to create some excitement, but recently it had been more than that. It gave you a different kind of privacy than the one you have grown used to on the road, and it created a new tension between you, one you were eager to snap. Stolen kisses building to something more.

Neither of you spoke much on the walk to the motel, Lee's arm around your shoulders. The parking lot was dim, the fluorescent lights overhead flickering every now and then, casting shadows across the worn asphalt. Your mind was racing so loudly that you were sure he could hear it, but you still couldn't help the content smile over your lips. You loved your little life with him, however unconventional and occasionally bloody, and you felt closer and closer to him every day.

Once safe inside the room, you sighed at the safety of a locked door and no strange men with travelling eyes and loud laughters. It was quiet save for the distant hum of the highway and the soft rasp of Lee's breath, two of your favourite sounds.

That very soft rasp grew closer as Lee came up behind you, tentatively circling his arms around your waist, drawing your back into his chest. His fingers stroked against your sides and you leaned into him with all your weight, tilting your head slightly to the side. Lee clearly took it as an invitation, leaning down to press slow, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. He kissed from the junction of your shoulder and neck up to a spot behind your ear he found a few weeks back that had made you moan, in search of those same beautiful sounds. You gave him what he wanted, and you could feel his smile against your ear.

"You are so beautiful, love," he whispered, fingers travelling under the hem of your shirt, barely skimming the skin there.

"Just beautiful, hm?" you teased. You turned around in his grip, body still flush against his, and placed your hands on the back of his neck to play with his hair.

His gaze bore into yours, darkening. "Beautiful, stunning, hot, unbelievably, painfully sexy. Whichever you prefer, darling, they're all true."

You smiled, bringing your face closer and closer to his, still keen on teasing him a bit. When you spoke, your lips almost brushed his. "I prefer yours actually."

He groaned at your words, closing the gap between you with almost bruising force, desperately kissing you.

You were never this brazen, treating this thing between you with delicacy, indulging yourself in kisses and touches, but no more. Tonight, though, whether it was your slight tipsiness, the motel or just that the longer you were around Lee, the more his every move sparked you up – you needed him.

Lee moved the two of you without breaking away from your lips, backing you up against the wall beside the bed. His hands were splayed against the bare flesh of your sides, kneading it sensually as he tried to press himself even closer to you. His lips moved against yours sloppily, his tongue swirling against your bottom lip and teeth, seeking yours inside your mouth. It was always messy with Lee, and you hadn't expected to be driven so crazy by it, but you were overwhelmed with it, trying to take in more and more of him.

When his lips trailed down your jaw to kiss the un-touched side of your neck, you realised you had forgotten to turn on the light. The room was lit up only by the purple hazy motel sign outside the window, and Lee looked painfully good bathed in it. Even from your angle, where you only saw his shoulder, part of his back and his hair with your hand tangled in it – it was perfect.

Lee tugged at your shirt and helped you out of it in seconds, fingertips dragging across your skin, leaving fire in their wake. The cool sensation of the wall against your back mixed with the heat of his hands made your thoughts become incoherent, now only filled with Lee.

You hooked your own fingers into the collar of his shirt, dragging him closer, crushing your lips to his in a way that told him everything. You slip your hands underneath it, letting your nails drag along his barely-there abs, up to his throat that you lightly squeeze. Lee's lips smiled into yours as he gave a soft moan that drove you to rip his shirt off as well, skin finally against skin.

His skin was softer than it had any right to be, given the life he leads, given the way his knuckles were scarred and his heart was walled off from everyone except you. You kissed him harder, like you were trying to draw him out from the place he always disappeared to inside himself. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you in, his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to make you gasp against his mouth.

And God, the way his mouth moved against yours – slow, then rough, then soft again, like he was trying to find some rhythm in the chaos of it all. Lee kissed like someone who had been starved for touch his whole life, as if this, you, were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

His mouth disappeared from yours again, pulling a soft whine from you that he chuckled at, breath tickling your skin. He placated you as he quickly dragged it down to your chest, licking stripes and leaving small bites in his path. How funny that the same teeth that tore flesh from bone could be so loving, so carefully enticing when on you. One hand on the small of your back, arching your hips into his ever so slightly, and another going up to your breast, palming and squeezing, with his thumb brushing over your nipple. In similar fashion, his doting mouth finally closed around your other nipple, flicking his tongue before drawing increasingly larger circles with it.

Your hands were back in his hair at that, clutching at it and tugging just barely – at the feel of his moan against your skin, you pulled harder, making his movements more desperate. Your chest was pressed against his mouth, squirming your hips against his body that was still flush with yours.

His teeth grazed over your sensitive skin and you mewled, sputtering his name between gasps. He looked up without his lips or tongue not leaving you and seemed to get drunk on the sight of you. When you flashed him a smile his expression immediately mirrored yours, revelling in the moment with you. The best of friends, venturing together into this, whatever it may be. His lips moved to your other breast, fingers taking over to placate the wet skin there.

"Lee," you whispered desperately. "I need you."

His face was up by yours again in a heartbeat, eyes searching yours for a second before crashing his lips onto yours once more, taking your bottom lip in between his and sucking. Meanwhile each of his thumbs find your nipples, rubbing circles on them, eliciting another moan into his mouth.

"You need me, sweet girl?" He asked in between kisses and you just nodded against him.

"Are you sure?"

You pulled back at that, hands moving from his hair to cup his jaw, feeling the slight stubble that had begun to grow there. He looked at you intensely, but you didn't see insecurity in his eyes – just curiosity, want, as if he needed to learn everything about you, right in this moment.

"I've always needed you, Lee. And I always will. Please."

He grinned, kissing you once, slowly, before dropping to his knees, kissing and licking across your chest down to your stomach, cheekily biting you to the left of your belly button. His hands moved to grab your ass, kneading quickly before tucking his thumbs into the bandwidth of your skirt, teasing it down a few centimetres. When you arched your back from the wall to help, he pulled it all the way down to the floor, helping you step out of it.

You were left leaning against the wall, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, wearing just your panties. Both of your breaths were coming in shallow gasps as Lee placed soft, sweet kisses to your upper thigh. He looked so beautiful on his knees before you and you moved a hand to touch his chin, making him look up at you. The amount of adoration pouring from his eyes made your stomach flip almost as much as feeling his breath on your most intimate parts did.

Maintaining eye contact, Lee kissed right above your panties, upper lip on your burning hot skin, lower touching the lacy fabric. His fingers teased the strings on the sides of your hips, a few of them slipping beneath, stroking your hips.

"Is this okay?" Lee asked. You nodded enthusiastically, aching for him, but his eyes still seemed inquisitive, wanting verbal confirmation.

"Yes, so okay. I want you."

His eyes darkened and he grinned mischievously. "Say it again."

"I want you, Lee, please."

That was the last bit of encouragement he needed from your desperate voice and another harsh pull at his hair. Lee leaned in to kiss you through your panties before finally pulling them off.

In the burning darkness the two of you created, you had never felt so full, loved and safe – all because of Lee.

[live-laugh-lenney]

loving the dad george content but what would arthur be like as a dad??

i was waiting for this to come in, hahaha. :')) we need to go into more detail on this trope like we did with girl-dad!george. i think it's a desperate need, too... i can already feel my mind racing with ideas...

"how?"

"arthur, for god sake, do you really need me to answer that?"

he gulps back the thick lump in his throat that sat low, head aching and he felt constricted and tight with the headphones that hung around his neck, the main channel video he was editing going long forgotten about on his screen. and she can see the colour of his cheeks vanish. and she was thankful he was sat down because she was certain he would have passed out once she told him the news.

she didn't want to take the test at his place... but it was a burden on her mind as the pregnancy test box sat in her handbag, hanging on the back of the chair tucked underneath his desk in his bedroom, and she just needed an answer. having felt sick for the last few weeks, waking up feeling nauseous and unable to keep her breakfast down her, it was either a serious matter of needing a doctor to take a look at her or she had fallen pregnant... she wanted it to be the former but she had a gut feeling it was the latter.

"but-"

"i know. we were careful."

and they always were.

he had a stack of condoms in his bedside table for when they got a little carried away. she was on the pill.

except that one night, coming home from a party thrown to celebrate a birthday, where they stumbled into his flat drunk and desperate for each other, ripping off their clothes and leaving a trail right up to his bedroom door. it was quick, lust-filled, drunk. neither one of them in the mood for foreplay. she didn't remember reaching for protection, she didn't remember him taking a moment to wrap himself up, she didn't remember sliding it on for him or watching him take it off... so she wholeheartedly trusted her own protection to save her.

she knew it had to have been that night.

the dates matched.

"we clearly weren't that night," she adds, "arthur-"

"i don't- i- yn, i don't know how to be a dad."

"and you think i know how to be a mum? arthur, in case it didn't occur to you but, i don't have kids. i've never been a parent before either," she hisses at him from his office doorway and he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, "christ, i'm just as scared as you right now. and i think i deserve to be-"

"it's a two person situation, yn," he claims, sticking two fingers up in her direction and she frowns, "i don't deserve to be scared?"

"yeah but you're not the one who has to go through the chances, are you? you'll still remain you where i'll look like i've stolen a watermelon from the supermarket," she grumbles lowly and he lets out a slight snicker; the light tension that was building had seemingly fizzled out, the initial shock still lingering in the air but it was something he could ignore, "it's not funny!"

"a watermelon?"

"it's the first thing that came to mind," she sighs heavily and puffs out a long breath from within her chest, "you're not going to throw up at any given moment because a smell puts you off. you're not going to have hormone changes and cry at stupid things. you won't get fat or start to waddle because you can't walk properly. you don't even have to push them out of a tight hole that's not big enough."

he sets his hands down on the arms of his chair and pushes himself out from underneath his desk, standing to his feet with his arms stretched out in her direction, and he takes her hands tightly in his own.

"i get that, i do," he hums softly, stroking a knuckle with his thumb and using his other hand to pull her into his chest, "but that doesn't mean my feels are invalid. i'm a support system for you in a situation that i've never had to deal with before."

she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face into the tee draping down his chest, the smell soothing the butterflies that were fluttering around in her stomach - the one thing she panicked would happen never did and it put her mind at ease.

"yeah, okay, but you won't get fat, arthur," she grumbles.

"you won't be fat though," he assures her, pressing a kiss to her head, "you'll be carrying a baby. our baby. making sure they're growing and that they're healthy. you're a home, keeping them safe, looking after them."

they stand there in silence, swaying from side to side, seconds going by and she truly felt like they could work everything out together. as a team.

"you're not upset?"

he pulls away and looks down at her, shaking his head, "why on earth would i be upset?"

"because we never spoke about this. we're not even married. we don't live together," she looks up at him and makes eye contact with him, "i know it's not ideal and-"

"i'm scared, i'm not upset," he interrupted and smiles down at her, "we've got nine months to figure everything out. i'd say that's enough time."

and, of course, he spent nine months reading all the baby books and reading things online. buying book after book from amazon and creating a good pile on his bedside table that he read before they went to bed, reading out different facts and important things so that he could involve yn in his learning. asking all the right questions at their midwife appointments. asking his mum and his step-mum all the right things to understand what could happen during her labour and what he could do to make things easier. and he's so proud to talk about it when people ask him. xx

[madebycloud]

I Can't Help Falling in Love With You

wednesday addams x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you took your girlfriend on a date, one she will remember for a long time to come. warnings/themes: FLUFF!! softwednesday (???), reader is a simp, (who's not? it's WEDNESDAY ADDAMS) slow dancing, making out. words: 4.5k note: LMAO THIS GOT ME GIGGLING WHILE I WROTE THIS! i think y'all need some fluff before i write another angsty one again.. 🏃

You raced over to Wednesday's dormitory as the clock struck midnight. You reached to her door, you gently rapped your knuckles against it, patiently waiting for someone to answer. 

After a few long seconds of silence, the door slowly creaked open, revealing Enid, Wednesday's roommate and a dear friend of yours. 

With a sense of urgency in her voice, she greeted you with a "Wednesday, faster! Y/N is here." She flashed you a panicked smile and added, "I told Principal Weems you're both sick, so she won't come looking for you."

You immediately understood the reason for Enid's stress and took a moment to appreciate her for saving your ass. "Thank you, Enid." 

Eventually, Wednesday approached you, and you couldn't help but notice how stunningly beautiful she looked. She noticed your stunned expression and rolled her eyes, breaking the tension.

Enid gave you a wink before closing the door, leaving you on your own. You picked up Wednesday's bag in one hand and offered her your arm. She rolled her eyes again, took your offer, and off you went. Wednesday followed you through the school gates and out into the night.

Wednesday couldn't keep her curiosity at bay any longer, and she asked you, "Okay, where are you taking me?"

With a grin, you replied, "I don't want to ruin the surprise." You could see the cogs turning in her mind, but she decided not to press the matter for now.

You made your way to a car parked on the street. "Where did you get the car? It's not stolen, is it?" She immediately asked, her voice both emotionless and full of underlying curiosity. 

"No, my love. It's my uncle's car. He let me borrow it for our date." Wednesday watched as you placed her bag in the trunk and walked around to open the passenger door for her, leaning your head back to give her room to get inside.

She didn't say anything but rolled her eyes one last time before sliding into the car's leather seat. You climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, and opened the radio.

"That better not be a pop song." You laughed at her and responded, "Too bad, it is."

The catchy beat of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift filled the car, and you began singing along at the top of your lungs, your voice sounding surprisingly in tune.

"Come on, love," you teased, leaning over to her and grinning. Wednesday's lips twitched slightly, almost as if she was fighting back a smile. But she didn't give in, just shook her head and rolled her eyes again. 

Despite her lack of enthusiasm, she sat in silence as you sang along to the pop song. 

She was clearly not a fan of the song and was probably wishing she was listening to something else, but she said nothing. She didn't want to insult you or your musical tastes and was willing to listen to whatever music you liked, even if it wasn't her favorite.

You drove on for what seemed like hours, your eyes growing heavy as your eyelids drooped more and more with each passing moment. 

The traffic was at a standstill, and the noise of the engine and the honking of horns from other drivers was starting to grate on your nerves. 

Despite the chaos around you, you couldn't help but feel peaceful and content as you looked over at Wednesday, who slept peacefully next to you.

Her gentle breaths and demeanor were enough to make you forget about the traffic and the stress of the situation, and for a moment, everything seemed okay. 

You couldn't imagine being anywhere else but right here by her side, even if it meant enduring the monotony of the stop-and-go traffic.

You reached over to the backseat and grabbed a pillow, placing it gently under her head. You wanted to make sure she was comfortable and that she was taken care of while she rested.

After enduring the never-ending road and traffic, you arrived at your destination, and then you saw a sight that was well worth the trouble.

You were greeted by a beach house, standing majestically in the middle of the pristine white sand and surrounded by clear blue water. 

You turned to Wednesday, who was still sound asleep beside you. You gently nudged her awake and whispered softly in her ear, "Hey, love, we're here." She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open and looking up at you. 

You leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

She took in her surroundings, a look of confusion flitted across her face. "Where am I?" she murmured, her words still half-awake.

You replied reassuringly, "We're at the beach house I rented for us. I'll get the things, you stay here and rest," you said, and she nodded and leaned back against the headrest, closing her eyes. 

You leaned down one more time to kiss her forehead, stepped outside the car, opened the trunk, and started unloading your belongings.

When you were done, you opened the passenger door and held out your hand to guide Wednesday out of the car. She took your hand, and you helped her step onto the sand. 

You walked toward the beach house together, you noticed a small smirk forming on Wednesday's lips as she took in the scenery before her. 

Even on Wednesday, the often stoic and reserved Addams, couldn't help but be amazed by the beauty of the surroundings.

You led her into the beach house, where you had already set up your bedroom.

Knowing she needed some rest after the long journey, you gently helped Wednesday settle in the bedroom, watching as she lay down on the bed, her eyes closing as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

You couldn't help but admire Wednesday's beauty, even in her slumber. Her dark hair fanned out around her on the pillow, and her pale skin looked even more ivory against the colorful bedding. 

For a moment, you hesitated, wanting nothing more than to jump into the bed next to her and hold her close. You gently covered her with the blankets, whispering, "Sweet dreams, my love."

You went back and finished unloading the rest of your things. When you finished, you took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. 

The long and strenuous journey to the beach house was finally over, and now you were both here, safe and sound.

You felt your stomach growl, reminding you that it was time for breakfast. So you steeled yourself and went to the kitchen.

You took a deep breath and began to prepare your meals, pouring the scrambled eggs and toasted bread into two bowls. You added a splash of hot sauce and some grated cheese on top, finishing off the meals with a sprinkle of parsley. 

You set the plates on the table and took a seat, feeling proud of yourself for managing to cook such a delicious meal. 

You were sipping your coffee when you suddenly heard the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. You turned your head to see Wednesday walking towards the table.

"Morning, my love," you said, standing up to greet her. You placed a kiss on her cheek and directed her towards the chair. "Sit down here, and I'll serve you breakfast. I was just about to wake you." She pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. 

You placed a plate of warm food in front of Wednesday, the scent of eggs and toast filling the air. You sat down opposite her, and you both began to dig into your breakfast.

It was simple, but it was everything you needed after such a long drive.

—

You and Wednesday had spent the day enjoying each other's company at your beach house, playing board games, eating delicious food, and watching movies.

It was a day filled with fun (and perhaps even a little bit of competition), but it was about to get much more interesting. 

The hours ticked by, you noticed it was already 4 PM, and with the scorching heat of the sun bearing down on you, you decided it was time for a dip in the ocean. 

Wasting no time, you hurried to your closet, choosing your favorite two-piece swimsuit, which was a sleek, figure-hugging design that highlighted your curves. On the other hand, Wednesday opted for a more conservative choice, a one-piece swimsuit that covered her body, providing maximum protection from the sun's harmful rays.

You both walked down to the beach, and you couldn't resist taking a jab at Wednesday's swimsuit. "You look like a penguin in that," you teased with a smirk, admiring her graceful poise. 

Wednesday raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes. "Say that one more time, and I'll rip your tongue out of your head," she spat back.

Feeling guilty about your comment, you tried to make amends by reaching for her hand, only to have her put it away. 

You tried again, but she pulled it away once more. "Not so fast. You've already offended me once, and I'm not one to forget easily," she said with a stern glare.

You tried to talk to her, but she ignored you, leading you to decide to tread quietly and keep following Wednesday as you both walked into the sea. 

Wednesday's resentment erupted when a random female stranger approached the two of you and asked for your phone number.

Despite the fact that she detests physical intimacy, she swiftly encircled your hand in a display of affection and dominance. 

She then marked her territory and made it known that you were hers and no one else's by giving the girl a death look until she walked away. 

You smirked, enjoying the idea that Wednesday loves you so much, and said, "Come on," as you pulled her closer to you in the water.

You and Wednesday made your way to the water, and you felt the soft sand sinking beneath your toes. The waves crashed against your body, sending a tingle of excitement through every inch of your being.

Wednesday's movements were as graceful as ever as she swam around you, with her black hair billowing behind her like a banner of victory. 

Both of you couldn't help but stare into each other's eyes, lost in the moment. You can't help but admire her features, the curve of her nose, the color of her eyes, and the way her hair flows in the water. 

It felt as though time had stopped, and the only thing that mattered was the two of you, connected by an invisible thread. 

With a mischievous smirk on your face, you couldn't resist the temptation to play around.

You took a handful of water and splashed it in her face. Wednesday's eyes widened with surprise, and you couldn't help but let out a chuckle at her reaction.

“Oh, you wanna play?" She asked, but her tone wasn't threatening or angry. Instead, it was filled with a playful edge, as though she was teasing you back.

Without hesitation, she began splashing you back, and you both were quickly engaged in an all-out water battle.

You tried to one-up each other with your splashes, but no matter how hard you tried, Wednesday seemed to always have the upper hand.

After a few minutes of fighting, you decided to take things up a notch.

Grabbing a hold of Wednesday's waist, you dipped her into the water and pulled her down with you.

She lets out a shriek of surprise as she is dragged beneath the surface. She kicks and thrashes her legs, desperate to reach the surface for air.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, she emerges from the water, gasping for breath.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh at her wicked stare.

You noticed how beautiful she looked in the sunlight as you wiped the water from your eyes, the drops of water glistening on her skin like tiny diamonds.

Without warning, you leaned in and planted a kiss on her jaw, feeling her soft skin beneath your lips. 

"I'm going to kill you, you know that?" she says with a mischievous glint in her eye as you scramble to get away from her. 

You take off running, your heart pounding in your chest as you feel the sand and water beneath your feet.

Wednesday ran like a bolt of lightning, her legs propelling her forward at incredible speeds. You try to keep up, but it's no use, she's just too fast. 

In desperation, you raise your hand in surrender and stop running.

You stumble to a stop and sit down on the sand to catch your breath, gasping for air. 

You look up at Wednesday, still catching your breath, your chest aching with the exertion. “I didn't know penguins were this fast," you manage to gasp out between breaths.

She sits down next to you, still catching her breath as well. "You're not too fast yourself."

You couldn't help but breathe a sigh of awe as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. The sky was a vibrant canvas of color, filled with gradients of pink, purple, and gold. The beauty of the world was all around you, encapsulating every square inch of the beach and even the very air you breathed.

"Oh wow," you muttered under your breath, your eyes fixed on the sky. 

You were so entranced by the breathtaking colors of the sky, the vibrant sound of the waves crashing against the shore, and the soothing rustle of the sand that you almost forgot you were sitting beside Wednesday.

Almost, but not quite, as your peripheral vision took in the fact that she was staring at you with such intensity that you couldn't help but smile. As if she couldn't believe that such a person even existed.

You continued to stare up at the sky as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon, casting the sky into a beautiful shade of orange and red.

Despite the beauty of the sunset, it was you who truly captivated her.

The way your eyes mirrored the colors of the sunset was almost hypnotic, your gaze drawing her in and making it impossible to look away. 

Everything else was just noise, but the harmony of the setting sun, the sound of the waves, and your very existence were all perfectly combined. It felt like home, a place of serenity and completeness. 

It was your presence that made her heart skip a beat, your face that kept her awake at night, and your voice that she would hear in her dreams. 

Wednesday had never experienced anything like it before, a feeling so intense and overwhelming that she felt like she was falling through a tunnel, with you being the light at the end of it.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't realize how long she had been staring at you. She only snapped back to reality when you called out to her.

"What are you staring at?" you asked, noticing the intensity of her gaze.

She hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice soft and breathless. "You," she whispered.

You were about to respond when you felt your stomach growl. You looked down at your empty stomach and let out a sigh of frustration. 

Without hesitation, you got up from your seat and turned around to face Wednesday. You silently motioned for her to take your hand, and she immediately reached out and grabbed it.

You both walked along the shore, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the sand in the distance. You kissed the back of her hand, a simple yet romantic gesture that seemed to speak volumes.

You both stayed silent as you walked back towards the beach house, both of you engrossed in your own private thoughts. 

It was a comfortable silence, one that allowed both of you to simply be in each other's presence without feeling the need to fill the air with trivial conversation.

—

The soft hum of the radio fills the solitude of the night, and you can't help but feel a deep sense of peace and serenity sweep over you. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore below and the shimmering of the stars in the night sky add to this feeling of calmness.

Suddenly, the sound of the glass door opening takes your attention away from the tranquil surroundings as Wednesday steps onto the balcony. 

With a curious expression on her face, Wednesday walks towards you and asks, "What are you doing up at such a late hour?" 

"Just admiring..." Your response may be short and vague, but it is the truth. You are simply admiring the beauty of the world around you, a world that seems to come alive during these quiet hours of the night.

She walks to the edge of the balcony, taking in the view herself, her figure illuminated by the moonlight, her silhouette framed against the vast ocean.

A/N: (I recommend playing "Can't Help Falling in Love with You" while reading this part.)

As you took in the beauty of the ocean and the night sky, the first notes of the classic Elvis song "Can't Help Falling in Love with You" started playing from the radio, and your heart began to beat a little faster.

You stepped closer to Wednesday, wrapping your arms around her waist. You can feel the warmth of her body against yours and the texture of her clothes as your arms touch them. You can hear the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, a low murmur in the background, as the radio's soft voice fills the silent air. 

She turns her head to look at you, the moonlight catching her features and illuminating her face, making her appear even more beautiful than before. 

You place your chin on her shoulder, humming along to the lyrics of the song. Wednesday, feeling the warmth of your breath in her ear, turns to face the night and the endless ocean in front of you. 

Slowly, you begin to sway her from side to side, the radio and the sound of the ocean providing a beautiful soundtrack to your dance.

The music lulls you both into a trance, and, without thinking, you lean down and kiss the back of her neck, feeling her skin against your lips, soft and warm.

Then, with a swift move, you twirled her around to face you, taking a hold of her hands and pulling her close. You held her left hand up, her right hand on your shoulder, and your left hand around her waist, pulling her closer to you. 

She squeezed your hand, your faces were inches apart. You stared deeply into her eyes, feeling the slivers of light in them reflect the depth of your love.

You didn't say a word, but your eyes told her how much you loved her without needing to speak. Your eyes tell her everything, everything you can't put into words.

The song plays on and the moon shines brightly overhead, Wednesday relaxes against you. You feel the soft warmth of her breath brushing against your skin, and it makes you feel alive in a way you never have before.

The bond that existed between you was as deep as the ocean and as vast as the sky above. You didn't need words to express how you felt, the love you felt for each other went beyond words, beyond the physical.

You lean in to kiss the crown of Wednesday's head, and you take a moment to savor the moment. 

The late-night air is crisp and cool, the sky is clear, and the ocean is sparkling under the light of the moon.

The song continues to play in the background, adding to the romantic atmosphere that you've created together. You close your eyes, feeling Wednesday's heart beating in your chest, and let the moment wash over you. 

For a moment, the rest of the world falls away, and all that exists is the two of you, standing on the balcony, holding each other close.

—

The day had been perfect from start to finish, filled with memories that would last you both a lifetime. As the sun set over the ocean and the day came to an end, you could feel a sense of melancholy in the air. 

It was time to head back to Nevermore, but a part of you didn't want the day to end.

You hopped into the car, with Wednesday riding shotgun. 

She was sitting in the passenger seat, reading the book she had just bought, her eyes fixed on the pages, oblivious to the world around her. 

You kept your focus on the road, though you couldn't help but steal glances at her as you drove.

Driving along, you couldn't help but let your mind wander, thinking about all the wonderful things that had happened that day. You had spent the morning exploring the shore with Wednesday, feeling the cool ocean breeze on your skin, and taking pictures together that you would treasure forever. You had bought souvenirs for your friends. 

And then there was the car ride back to Nevermore, which seemed to fly by, the traffic moving swiftly for once.

The road was quiet, and you could hear the soft rustling of leaves as the cool night air blew through the open window of your car. 

You felt a gentle tug on your right hand and looked down to see Wednesday's hand holding yours, her eyes still focused on her book. Your heart melted as you squeezed her hand.

Wednesday didn't say a word, but you could see the contented expression on her face as she continued reading, unaware of your gaze. 

The red traffic lights changed to green, and you drove towards Nevermore, your thumb brushing against hers as you took turns on the road.

Once back at Nevermore, you headed directly to Wednesday's dorm, where Enid answered the door, her hair a disheveled mess as if she had just woken up from a deep sleep.

You smiled and handed her your gift, a smile spreading across her face as she took it. "Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, giving you a quick hug. 

"Enid," Wednesday said, and the tone of her voice instantly signaled to you that something was amiss. Enid, clearly not wanting to add fuel to the fire, released her grip and offered an apology as she retreated back inside to help Wednesday unpack her things.

The door closed, leaving you and Wednesday alone in the hallway. You could feel the tension in the air, and a small part of you regretted coming back. You hesitantly stepped forward, afraid of the consequences.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

However, as you were about to leave, Wednesday grabbed your hand. 

She gently caressed your palm with her thumb, and you couldn't help but feel a jolt of energy coursing through your body. 

You leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she pulled you in for a deeper kiss, her lips meeting yours with a passion that took you by surprise.

Her hands roamed over your neck and shoulders, holding you close and pulling you in even further.

You pulled away, taking a deep breath as you smiled at the warmth spreading throughout your body. 

Wednesday leaned in yet again, her lips finding yours for one more blissful moment. You couldn't help but savor the taste of her kisses as she held you close once more.

Once you finally broke apart, you rested your forehead against hers, feeling the connection that you shared. 

It was a moment that felt like it would last an eternity, your bodies pressed against each other, your breath coming in short gasps. 

You could feel the heat building between you, a tension that threatened to tear you apart at any moment.

"I love you."

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, a whisper that echoed in the silence of the hallway. 

Wednesday's eyes locked onto yours, her breath catching in her throat as she took in your confession. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something in response, but the words refused to leave her mouth. Instead, she kissed you once again, this time with a passion that threatened to consume you whole.

You wanted to pull away, to catch your breath, to take in the moment. But you couldn't, your body was consumed by the heat of Wednesday's touch. 

Your hands grasped her back, pulling her close as your lips found hers again and again. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in the hallway, lost in a world of your own.

Finally, you pulled away, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Wednesday's lips were swollen from your kisses, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you managed to whisper, before you leaned in for one final kiss. 

This time, it was slower, more gentle, as if you both understood that this moment was too precious to be rushed. 

You held each other close, your bodies pressing together, feeling the warmth of each other's touch.

Feeling a tingle in your chest, you pulled away, the warmth of her touch lingering on your cheeks. Her hand slowly released its grip on yours, her fingers lingering for just a moment longer before she let go, her face falling back into its usual stony expression.

The grin on your face persisted as you made your way back to your dorm. You knew that you would forever hold on to the memories of that perfect day. 

Then you sighed, the familiar weight of reality settling back in. 

You walked toward your own dorm, feeling the fatigue of the long drive weigh on your shoulders. As you entered your room, the familiar smell of home beckoning you to rest your weary head on your pillow, you couldn't help but think of the image of Wednesday that was forever imprinted in your mind.

One last look, the sun setting over her shoulder, casting a glow of warmth over her face. 

A moment frozen in time, a dream that would fade soon enough but remain a precious memory for as long as you lived.

And as you drifted off into sleep, the image of her remained seared into your mind. 

The waves crashing against the shore, the smell of salt in the air, the warmth of the sun on your skin. A dream like no other, a reminder of what it meant to be truly alive.

[asheurbanipal]

Where were they going without ever knowing the way? Ch. 2

on A03

<<Previous

Summary:

No luggage. No gas in the truck. No memories. Waking up with amnesia in a shack in the desert, our heroes find themselves drifting down the highway with no specific direction in mind. The only thing driving them? We know each other, and know each other well. But how? And why? And what is this feeling that lives in the pit of my stomach when I look at you?

Deadpool/Wolverine

Explicit

Words: ~10k

Chapter 2/2 in series

Content: memory loss, amnesia, trauma, amputation, canon-typical violence, bathtub sex, homophobic slurs

Chapter 2

"We haven't seen you in more than a week," said the man Logan had learned was named Scott. They had some kind of beef. None of them were talking about it, but everyone was clearly aware. The tension was there.

The giant silver dude, Colossus, had pulled their jeep around until it backed up to the SUV, creating areas for everyone to sit. Another woman with white hair had arrived --literally flying in-- that raised a warmer sense of familiarity in his chest. She hadn't given her name, yet, though. She seemed extra pissed at him for whatever bullshit it was they had pulled. 

"Okay, so what was going on the last time you saw us?" Wade asked. This group --the X-men-- had been concerned but prickly with Logan. A sort of familial irritation. For Wade that was amped up to frustrated exasperation. 

"There was an interstellar dragon situation in Moapa Valley," Scott sighed. Logan felt Wade tense in excitement. He shot a hand out and pressed it around the top of Wade's shoulder into the bottom of his throat a little. He caught the message to maybe shut the fuck up for a second. 

"Wade begged to come with," Scott continued. "I told him, 'no.' He said if I let him come, he could show us some ammunition caches out in the desert he knew about. Something from an older merc job that they never cleaned up."

"Oh, fuck I'm a goddamn genius." Wade clapped rapidly in delight. 

"Yeah, unfortunately," Scott agreed. "So I let you come. It was your idea to go to Vegas."

"Hm, that does sound like me," Wade decided. "Oh! I know what Vegas is! That's a good sign, right?"

"It ended up being a terrible idea, so..." Scott turned a small circle with his arms crossed. 

"To be fair, Scott," said Hank McCoy. "I only came on this particular mission to go to Vegas myself. We were going that direction, anyway." Hank --Beast-- had taken a minute to adjust to. Big. Blue. Furry. But somehow this particular brand of weird was acceptable and familiar. He turned to Logan. "I wanted to touch base with a colleague at a research facility near Lake Mead." The new information immediately sorted itself into a lower priority drawer in Logan's brain. 

"Fine," Scott agreed reluctantly. "But you two basically disappeared the instant we got to Vegas. Three days later, you've stolen one of the SUVs off the jet and left Warhead a cryptic message about 'a memory wipe guy.'" He nodded to the girl in yellow, the one that had spoken to them first.

"I told him you'd come home eventually," Warhead said, "be he insisted we try to at least pretend to look for you."

"Because you've both been acting fucking weird lately, so I wasn't sure what bullshit you'd get up to." Scott kicked a rock in the dirt. "Ever since-"

"Don't tell them, Scott."

"Storm?" 

The woman with the white hair --Storm, he now guessed-- moved from her perch on a nearby rock to sidle up to where Logan was sitting on the back of the SUV bumper.

"Let them relearn it themselves," she hissed. "They want to solve their petty squabbles by manipulating their minds, let them earn their memories back." 

"I did something to you didn't I?" Logan asked, cowed under her steely gaze. 

"More what you didn't do. And when you remember, you're going to regret it."

#####

"I'm not getting in that fucking plane. We'll drive back. The tracker is on, isn't it? You won't lose us this time."

"Logan…"

"We'll meet up in Vegas." 

Wade watched from the back of the SUV as Logan argued with the guy wearing the visor. Scott. Scooottt. Name sounded funny in his head and on his tongue. The instant he had suggested everyone get back on the jet, Logan had freaked out. 

Baby boy doesn't like to fly. Put that away in the vault and lock it up. 

Knowing they had a very sexy domestic relationship had changed the way he looked at Logan. That bloom of warmth he had been trying to make sense of was welcome now. He could bathe in it. 

Logan stormed up to the side of the SUV, wrenching it open to hop in the driver's seat. 

"Wade. Finish up whatever and get up here. We're going." 

"Yes, sir, Logan, sir." Wade pulled the SUV hatch down and scrambled through the center opening, unfolding in the front seat. There was a brief cold war with the X-Jeep through the rearview before the other vehicle headed off into the sand. 

"Dicks," Logan said to the reflection of their tail lights. He pressed the keyless ignition and began the process of moving the SUV back to the highway.

"Sounds like they're your best friends." Wade offered his hand across the console of the SUV. Logan took it absently.

Oh, muscle memory. Delightful. 

"And considering you're apparently my partner, I'm getting a stark sense of the company I keep." He squeezed Wade's hand. The sensation rolled up him so nicely he could ignore the half an insult underneath. 

Not like I'm NOT an asshole, from what I can tell. No reason not to accept it. 

"Do you think we're a happy couple?" Wade asked, pushing the conversation in a direction he preferred. 

"According to the pictures…" Logan rumbled a thought across his mouth. "Yes. I think we are. I feel like we are. It feels good."

"What would have happened if visor-boy and the mutant crew hadn't shown up?"

"We'd go to the address on our licenses. I had already been doing the math on the drive to New York."

"No, I meant when we were making out. If they hadn't interrupted." Wade flipped their hands over a few times. 

"I would have fucked you senseless. I was not ready to slow down. It was like a…fugue state."

Oh those asssshoollleeesss.

"I'm glad we got stopped, though." Logan removed his hand to shift the GPS then settled it back. "I would have felt weird about it afterward. Because we're not totally ourselves." 

"I wouldn't have," Wade replied. Logan kept his eyes on the road and didn't speak, but there was a tilt to his head that suggested he was curious to hear the rest of that. It was little realizations like this where he started to see the imprint of their relationship. The fact that he knew how to read Logan's body language. 

"We were both consenting, " Wade continued. "You're hot as hell. And if you fuck like you fight, you are a champion of dicking down. If you deigned to lower yourself to my level, I'd one night stand you in a heartbeat, no questions asked. With the added knowledge that we're already together, I don't really care if I can't remember anything. I'd suck your soul out of your dick even if I had a lobotomy." 

The silence that followed made Wade more and more nervous, Logan's hand tightening around his. When it relaxed, he felt himself breathe again. 

"What do you mean lower myself?" Logan glanced sideways under the shadow of his eyelashes. 

Holy fuck do I actually have to explain this to him? He can't be this stupid.

"Look, I've got a supple ass and a sick rack. This is not up for debate. But this suit's hiding a lot of sins, baby girl. Underneath all this red sexy, is a…mess, basically. No one thought to give me the full scoop on what the fuck is wrong with me, but whatever it was, it turned me into a giant ballsack."

"Wade, I think you're extremely attractive." They had hit a stretch of straight road, and Logan took the risk to chance some hard looks at Wade. 

"I'm sure you got over your initial gag response, at some point, and now you love me because of my inside beauty, but like…come on."

"There's no way I had put up with this from you for any length of time."

"What 'this?'" 

"This self-deprecation thing."

"And there's no way I was totally cool with getting my arm chopped off on the daily, so clearly-"

"So clearly it's something we worked on at some point." Logan squeezed his hand one more time before setting it on the wheel to deal with a rough patch of road.

Oh. I hadn't considered that. 

"What if we just suck?" Wade countered. "And not in the fun way. We're just terrible people who are terrible together?" 

I don't want to believe that. That doesn't feel right at all. It makes me sad. 

"I don't believe that," Logan said.

motherfucker's telepathic

 "I think we're just a little broken, " Logan said. "And we're fixing each other. Slowly. Or at least taping each other back together." His fists went tighter around the wheel. 

"How are you so sure?" Wade asked. 

"I'm not. But the only solid memory I've gotten back is that I love you. So that must be the most important one. I can work from there." 

No wonder I'm in love with this man.

#####

Logan found the cellphones, fully charged, in a secret compartment in the back of the SUV while they were stopped at a travel plaza on the west side of Phoenix, Arizona. Scott had been kind enough to at least inform him that the SUV did, indeed, need to get refueled whenever possible. The solar battery would only run them so far even at the full charge it had built up parked out under the sun. With full nightfall coming on fast, they weren't going to be able to recharge for a while.

They had both gone in to take a piss, and now Wade was taking forever for whatever reason. They had already changed into civilian clothes, so it wasn't a suit issue. It didn't matter. It gave him time to go through their phones by himself. Whatever he had told Wade, a part of him was nervous, still. 

He held the phones in his hand, deciding which to go through, first. Both had unlocked on his face. The pink glitter case with the tiny rainbow charm and an illustrated cat giving the middle finger on the lockscreen was probably Wade's. He sure fucking hoped it was, at least. It felt wrong to go through Wade's stuff without permission, so he started digging through the phone with the black and gray case, first. 

It was less than useful. 

His lock screen was their dog in a little red suit like Wade's. The wallpaper was a picture of him and his maybe-daughter eating cotton candy. Someone else had taken the picture. Maybe Wade?

The rest of the phone was starkly practical. A few basic functional apps, New York Times puzzles, and solitaire. The calendar said that "Puppins" was due for their flea and heartworm meds, so that was a clue on the dog, at least

Scott said they had been acting weird "since-." Since what? He flicked back through the calendar to look for anything that seemed like a big deal. Regular briefings with the X-Men, reminders to take out the trash, lawn care service…

"Dinner?" Logan said to himself as his feet dangled off the back bumper of the SUV. Two months back was an entry in his calendar that didn't look like he made it. It was the phrase "TAKE ME TO DINNER" in all caps with emoji hearts next to it. "Maybe I didn't take him when I was supposed to. Then we fought? Is that what we've been being 'weird since'?"

"You found our phones!?" Wade shouted across the parking lot, drawing everyone's attention as he jogged back to the SUV. He had changed out his red suit for a loose jersey with an X on it, cargo khaki shorts, knee-high socks and sandals. He looked objectively ridiculous, but it matched his overall vibe so perfectly, Logan couldn't imagine him in anything else. He had acquired a baseball cap with a cardinal on it inside the travel stop. 

He hopped up next to Logan in the SUV, pulling out a couple of Ramune soda bottles. He popped the marble at the top then took a swig. Wade just looked down at his forlornly.

"I don't know how to open this," he said to himself quietly. Logan took it from him and went through the process a second time. 

"Then why did you get them?"

"I don't know. I just saw them, was super surprised they had them at a travel stop, then my hand was already reaching for them. I think…I think you like them?" 

"Yeah, they're not bad," Logan said, handing the drink back. Wade took a sip, and his face said he wasn't sure how he felt. "Anyway, here. Phone. I want you to look at a specific date." 

"Absolutely," but the first place Wade went digging was the photo gallery. "Oh I have a whole folder in here marked 'Logan XXX.'"

"Okay, but did I pose for those? Or are they candid? Because I get the feeling-"

"Do you have any sexy pictures of me?" Wade shifted the focus with a snap.

"I didn't look." 

"Can you?" Wade looked across at him, batting his lashless lids. 

"I-okay...sure." He didn't expect there to actually be any. If the conversation from earlier was anything to go by, that little detail wasn't going to make Wade feel good about himself. Delaying it was going to make it worse, though. 

He flicked through the gallery. It wasn't organized, but there wasn't much there to keep track of. Landscapes. Pretty sunsets and cloud formations. A few series of Puppins sleeping in weird positions. His maybe-daughter at various distances. When the first picture of Wade appeared, he gave a little chin nudge into Logan's shoulder. 

It was a video. Wade playing with the dog in the yard, running barefoot through the grass in green and brown camo patterned shorts and a bright pink t-shirt with Dolly Parton on it. His smile was wide, shooting back and forth in the grass before he tossed a tennis ball. The camera followed Puppins chasing the ball. Wade chattered something in the background of the video that the camera didn't pick up, then it ended. 

"Okay, super boring and domestic. Give me something hot and spicy." Wade reached over to scroll through the gallery quicker. "Oh this one's…oh…maybe not."

Wade in a plain colored t-shirt and sweats, feet up on a coffee table, mid-talking to whoever was behind the camera. It was the exact t-shirt Logan was wearing at that very moment. A picture of Wade in his clothes? 

Wade was already moving through the gallery, again, stopping when he saw his face every ten pictures or so.

Wade holding the dog. Wade making stupid faces with his maybe-daughter. Wade and another young Japanese woman making stupid faces at Warhead. Wade with reading glasses focusing extremely hard on a Sudoku book. A video of Wade in his red suit, finessing his swords in a quick circle and giggling. A follow-up video of Wade showing this trick to some preteen boys. A second-follow up video of him showing those same kids how to run some kind of parkour drill in a large room. 

"None of these are sexy," Wade declared. 

"I think we just have vastly different versions of sexy," Logan assured, the warmth that rose in his chest spreading out into his stomach. 

"Whatever." Wade scrunched his nose then went back to his phone. "What date did you want me to look at?" Logan brought his phone over. 

"Here, two weeks ago. Looks like you made a calendar entry." 

Wade hummed and opened his calendar. It was a mess. Reminders and notes and alarms for everything short of breathing. The date in question only had one block on it. 

"It says one year anniversary." Wade waved his phone at Logan gently, then his face changed as he realized what he said. "One year. I can't decide if that's a good amount of time or none at all. Even if I can't remember shit, I feel like I've known you forever." 

Logan pressed through his own thoughts. Wade felt new in his brain. Big but new. Life changing but recent. Maybe that was why they had built a life together so quickly. 

"So, weird question," Logan said, "but I'm wondering if something happened at that dinner. Did we go?" 

"Oh! That should be easy. I'll look at pictures from the date. Since I actually take some." He waggled his eyebrows. "Looks like I might have put it in a folder, even. Look at me. All organized and shit." 

The pictures Wade presented started pretty normal. Them getting ready in their shared bedroom. A few selfies of them in nice clothes. Nothing fancy. Logan was in a sports coat and dark jeans with a cowboy hat. Wade looked smart in khakis, a maroon button up, and cream cardigan, but he didn't look totally comfortable in the outfit. The next few shots were in front of an Italian restaurant of some sort. Only confirmed because Wade took artsy photos of his pasta. But then something had gone wrong. Another selfie on the street on the way somewhere else showed paired looks of concern. 

The next photo was a couple hours later.

A quick shot of Wade with a thumbs up in front of a pile of bodies with Logan in the background, claws out, digging into one last person. Both their outfits were torn and bloody, the splatters implying it wasn't their own. These unknown adversaries were armed to the teeth and dressed in black, so he could only assume they deserved whatever came to them. 

The next picture was Logan throwing back a beer in their house, still a little torn and bloody, an air of broodiness hovering over him. They must have resolved things quickly, because the next photos were very obviously from Wade riding on top of him. Yet somehow not as explicit as they could have been.

"Oh, I am an artist, " Wade decided. 

"So clearly something happened that night," Logan said. "But I think whatever it was started whatever…this…is." He gestured between them. "Scott said we'd been acting weird since some big event. An anniversary seems like the kind of thing that might set off a chain of weirdness."

"Especially if something went really wrong," Wade finished. "Yeah, I hear you, peanut." He looked up and glanced around. "We should stay here in Phoenix tonight." 

"Kinda wanted to drive through."

"To get to Vegas where we got ourselves in trouble the first time. And I know we're both tired. And there's literally a Super 8, like, right over there somewhere according to the cashier." He pointed down the road. 

The problem was Logan couldn't actually disagree with him. He was, indeed, exhausted. And driving this tired was probably dangerous. 

"Alright. Fuck. We'll find somewhere to stay. But not a fuckin' Super 8. I found a black card in my wallet, and I intend to use it if I'm going to have to suffer."

"Yay!"

#####

"There's still time to switch to two queens instead of a king. They probably wouldn't ask any questions."

"What?" Wade asked, then the rest of his brain processed the question as he gazed around the room. "No. No no no no. This is fine." He dropped his bag at the end of the bed. 

"I'm sorry for not confirming with you," Logan said. "Hotel clerk asked what kind of room, and I went into auto-pilot. We must get hotel rooms a lot."

Probably not like this one. Doesn't feel familiar.

The best they could find within spitting distance was a Marriott, but after a night on a cave floor it might as well be a ten-star accommodation. He did another once over of the room, searching under the tables and chairs for…something…It was like a tick. An impulse to check the room for possible security failures. He turned and panicked. Logan was taking off his shirt. 

fuck fuck fuck

Wait….why are you freaking out? You saw him shirtless just a few hours ago.

Calm the fuck down. 

"I assume you'll want a shower. Mind if I go first?" 

"No, go ahead." 

"Okay." Logan paused with his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" Wade tried to lean nonchalantly on the table then jumped back when it tipped underneath him. 

"You're always a little bit distracted, but you seem on edge. Did you remember something?"

"Ah…no…um…I think we hid our cellphones. That maybe we're the ones who put them in that secret compartment." It had started needling at him immediately. Why hide their phones? Why tuck them away like that?

"Who were we hiding them from?"

"Ourselves?"

"Huh…" Logan paced a few steps as he ruminated on the idea. "So we leave our wallets in our bags, phones in the car, then fuck off into the desert?"

"It's a theory," Wade said. 

I don't have any better ones, at the moment.

"Does that make sense?" Logan sat on the bed to think. "Not that I think you're wrong; I'm just trying to find the logic."

"I kind of ruled out being kidnapped pretty early what with the whole…personal armory…thing. Don't think a kidnapper would have left us behind with that."

"Nope, probably not…wait…" He paused to roll a thought over. "We also erased our own memories."

"Shit, you're right, " Wade said. "That's what Glasses said. We 'found the memory wipe guy.' We were looking for this." 

"Why the absolute fuck would we do this to ourselves?" Logan stood from the bed again, crossing his arms over his chest. "It had to be for a reason. A really good one." His pacing got a little faster. 

He's sexy when he's thinking.  

He's sexy when he's breathing, though, so whatever.

Wade watched Logan's form, tracking his every muscle movement. That welling feeling of wanting to bite and gnaw on him kept rising up in his chest and setting his throat on fire. It was so fucking distracting, but it was also raw . Pure in its utter debauchery. He had to believe it was a real thing. 

"You did this." Logan's voice slammed hard against him. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I can tell I've had my memory wiped before. I can feel it. Stacked amnesia. I wouldn't have volunteered to do this again. It must have been your idea." 

Wade moved forward across the room, stood a foot from Logan, chest out and shoulders wide. Trying to be mad but only finding hurt.

"Or maybe since you've been through amnesia before, you thought it was worth it for whatever this…project…is. Or maybe it was my idea, but there's no way I forced you to do it. So you agreed."

"Maybe you strong-armed me. Blackmailed me. Withheld something until I said yes. Like sex." 

What the fuck , dude?

"Do any of those pictures look like a man who would withhold sex? Especially from you ? What the fuck is your problem? You know what no…" 

fuckin' 

Even if it was my idea so what? So fucking what. We're in this together now.

"I'm going to go search the SUV for any more clues," Wade declared. "And you're going to sit and think about what you just said to me.

Fucking ass.

He started toward the door. 

"Fucking ass," he gave as a parting shot. 

The problem was that he couldn't necessarily say that Logan was wrong. Erasing their memories was probably his idea. In their one day together, he could figure out that much. He didn't know if he was a genius or an idiot or that beautiful combination of the two, but he was clearly the schemer. 

Logan was absolutely not the type to be strong-armed into anything he didn't want to do, though. Either he had comfortably agreed with the plan, or Wade had been sufficiently persuasive. So for him to be this accusatory was downright insulting.

And that's something I'm allowed to be mad about, damn it. 

He crawled into the back of the SUV, and started aimlessly throwing panels back, folding and unfolding the seats, looking for any evidence of a hidden pocket. He did uncover a few, but there was little of any importance inside. Two more backpacks of clothes. Another small duffle with extra ammo for a gun he hadn't found in his armory bag. The shotgun that went with the ammo he just found.

The organization of this is all over the place. 

Why do I kind of understand it, though?

I'm absolutely the one who packed this SUV and filled all its hideyholes. 

After an hour of fruitless labor, he dropped breathlessly into the passenger seat, door still open. He unlatched the glovebox. Just the user manual. He closed it again. The latch didn't take and it popped back open again. 

Fuck you.

He tried to close it again, but the manual got in the way this time. 

FUCK YOU. 

He pulled out the book and reared back with the intention of throwing it as hard as possible. Then a piece of paper fell out. Lined notebook paper, folded in half with writing on the outside. "WOLVERINE, READ ME. FROM YOU (WOLVERINE)" 

oh hoh hoh hoh 

I'm absolutely reading this bitch.

Dropping the manual into the driver's seat, he unfolded it carefully, laying it across his lap. Under the dome light, the indents of the blue pen filled the paper with beveled shadows, the other side of the page textured under his fingers. 

Logan, Wade won't look in the glove box, but I know at some point you'll get bored and check the manual for features. You agreed to have your memory erased, but you told him you'd be leaving behind a note. You just didn't tell him where in case he hid it again.

Oh fuck. 

He was super adamant about neither of us knowing anything for this project. You'll understand why, eventually.  Right now, you're freaked out. I know. We've been through this amnesia thing before. It's real shit every time. Don't worry this time IT WILL COME BACK when the serum wears off.

Here Logan had underlined a few times, almost bleeding into the next line. 

I put in some backups for when this goes to shit. The tracker on the SUV will start pinging again, at some point, so the X-Men will find you eventually. So look for a guy with a visor, a giant metal dude, or an attractive black woman with white hair. You can trust them.  YOU CAN TRUST WADE. I can't tell you more, but you would kill and die for this man. More importantly, he would do the same for you. Just get back to Las Vegas and don't freak out.  -Logan   PS. Wade, if you do happen to find this, shut the fuck up.

But then he'd put a little smiley face at the end of the line. Wade let the note sit in his lap for a minute. Had he left a letter like this for himself? He was certain he would have found it, by now. Had Logan found this note already? Was he using that to form his own opinions? Wade had to know. 

Wade practically scrambled through the main door and up the elevator. He almost dropped the keycard but hustled the door open. 

"Logie, I have found the juciest clue!"

���…

Logan?

"Kitty cat?" Wade peered around the room, testing the bathroom door. Logan was gone. 

#####

Logan's hands were firmly in his pockets, held tight around a thumb drive. It hadn't been too late for an Uber when he left the hotel, but, depending on how long this took, he might not have the same luck getting all the way across town. He also had the car drop him off about two blocks away from the internet cafe. It wasn't a specific thought that led to that decision. More like something that lived deeper. That had been ingrained in him over a long period of time until it was second nature.

Escaping into the night without telling anyone also felt natural. He hadn't questioned the decision even once. 

He had found the thumb drive in the interior of one of Wade's bags. It had taken seconds, and was mostly an accident. When Wade stormed out, Logan got mad. Mad without a specific focus. Just…mad and sad and annoyed. He picked up all the bags and moved them against the wall, pushing some of his frustration into tossing them against the wall. It was pure accident that one of the bags of clothes made a jingling sound when it banged against the chair leg. One run of his hand along the inside of the bag, and he found the bulge. A quick swipe of his claw along the inner lining, and the pony keychain with the thumb drive attached revealed itself. 

If he had to make a guess, Wade had left some kind of trail of clues. Breadcrumbs. The drive would hold some kind of viable information to bring this all together. He wanted to see it himself, first, though, on his own. Wanted to see what Wade thought was important and convinced himself it was how to make up for saying something so awful.

 The hotel didn't have a business center. A quick Google showed him that "LAN Cafes" were a thing, though, and there was a 24/7 one in Tempe. Logan paid for one of the open computer stations and fumbled through the technology enough to access the drive. 

He found a folder labeled "Our Life-DONT LOOK UNLESS FUCKED" and a solo text document. He clicked on that one first. 

Hey Toad-face-

Ah, this was a note from Wade to Wade. The self-deprecation was immediate and strong. The computer had clearly corrected Wade's writing but hadn't caught everything. 

You have super cancer. You can heal pretty much anything. You can theoretically not die but I haven't fully tested it and NOW IS NOT THE TIME. That's all done The super hot fucker your with is super important and he wont let you die for to long. Promise. Right now you have a bet going so I'm not going to spoil anything. But honey badger said that he would only do this thing if I set a contingency or two. This is that. I used the computer in the business suite at our hotel to make this. Only look at it if something goes to shit and your memory is super fucked.    -XOXO Wade (=˃ᆺ˂=)  

Logan closed out of the document, then drifted the cursor over to the folder. He tapped his finger on the mouse, deciding whether he would open it. 

"Fuck it." 

The folder was full of pictures, and he found himself just skimming, scrubbing through the folder window. He had seen the photos on the phone already. Seen himself through Wade's eyes via camera. He slowed down when he saw another text document. It was full of wall to wall text, no paragraphs. It was hard to read, but he muddled through the rambling, wandering language. 

Wade hadn't fully considered that the man who would be reading this wouldn't have all his memories, so there were jumps in context. Gaps in the lore. They had been through something big together, though. Wade kept referencing The Void. Kept talking about when they "exploded." Referenced multiple universes. Sometimes he slipped into a time clearly before Logan was around. About a woman named Vanessa he seemed to love desperately at one point. Time travel. Despite his insistence in the other document, he might have actually died at one point. At the end was a list of instructions on the best way to reattach a severed limb.

"Buried the info a bit, but we figured it out." He went back to the pictures, and scrolled down to the end. Some of these were newer, taken in Vegas. The images flashed through the preview pane quickly. 

He stopped on the last one. It was a selfie of them in sports coats and jeans standing in the middle of a balloon arc, holding a piece of paper. An official looking document with their names on it, sanctioned by the State of Nevada.

A marriage license. 

Wade found him in the bar. Drinking seemed the best option after what he found, and he wasn't ready to go back to the hotel, yet. He needed to process all his emotions in an environment that felt familiar. He didn't actually know what he liked, though, so he was up to drink number three, landing on a Blue Moon, for now. 

He had no idea how long it would take him to get drunk or if he even could, but he was willing to start the relearning process. 

"Hey," Wade said quietly, sidling up to him at the counter. He set a tablet down in front of them. It was blinking with dots. 

"Is that…tracking us?" Logan scrubbed around on the screen, getting a feel for the environment around them. 

"Yeah, I found it in the SUV. Not sure where the receivers are hidden, though. Maybe shoes?" Wade zoomed out, and another dot appeared way to south of them. "And I think that's another one. Maybe one we left behind somewhere?"

Logan dragged the tablet over and started looking at the streets and nearby landmarks. 

"The AA token that was in my wallet. It was a tracking chip. I threw it in the dirt. Not ruining my sobriety after all." He took a swig in celebration.

"Weird choice," Wade decided. 

"Maybe we couldn't find something better at the last minute and wanted to make sure we could find our wallets. Whatever it is we're doing, I'm not totally sure we thought all the details out. Feels like we kind of half-assed it."

"So you don't think this was my idea, anymore?" Wade tested.

"Nope. Still do." Out of the corner of his eye, Wade's head dipped in melancholy. Logan pulled him in around the waist. "But I'm very sorry for the way I said it. It was unnecessarily mean. I was just…being an asshole. I realized that you were right, and I must have agreed to do it. And if I agreed to do it, it must have been for a good reason." He tucked his face into the halo of Wade's hoodie and spared him a kiss on the cheek. 

They were good and goddamn married after all, right? Right…? 

"This ain't one of the gay bars, boys." The voice crackled from somewhere behind them. 

"Mike, shut the fuck up." A woman's voice hissed at the first as they turned around.

Mike was a decent looking guy in his late twenties. Probably went to the gym a couple times a week. Little bit of stubble. Douchebag haircut. T-shirt from something local and jeans. He had matching wedding rings with the woman next to him who was clutching to his arm in concern. The woman across from him was the one yelling at him. She was paired with a smaller man who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. 

"Just talking to my husband, bub," Logan said, then started turning back. 

"Husband?" Wade whispered. Logan gave a little headshake that he would explain later. 

"Okay, well maybe you'd be more comfortable doing that somewhere else." Mike was relentless, it would seem. 

"Oh my god, in the year of our Lord Patti Lupone: 2025 is this actual real life homophobia?" Wade cracked his knuckles.

"Wade, calm down. This isn't a barfight kind of establishment." He squeezed Wade's hand for half a moment, working from bone-deep muscle memory. 

"A barfight?" Mike stood up, tottering off his stool. "You fairies want to make this a barfight?"

"MIKE WHAT THE FUCK?" The woman tried to drop down around the table and get to him. Her partner sort of flailed in uncertainty. 

"Mike, honey," his wife tried to reach out to him, but he shook her off.

"Nah, if these fucking fags wanna go, let's go--" 

Wade threw the first and only punch, getting in half a second before Logan could. Mike went down hard, his body making a series of thumps as he hit the floor. He wasn't out, but sitting on the sticky concrete, dazed. Wade was already leaning back against the countertop.

"Honey, your claws." He tapped the blades that had zipped out from Logan's hands. 

"Right." He pulled them back in. He turned to the bartender, a young woman who currently had her hand hovering over a hidden button that would call the police. "Close my tab. We're leaving." He grabbed Wade around the wrist, pulling him out of the room. 

"Give me the keys," Logan barked and Wade obliged. The way he had parked the SUV, the passenger side faced away from the bar and toward a wall. 

He followed Wade around to that side and pressed their bodies together against the car. Logan slammed his lips against Wade's, searching his mouth with his tongue, unsure what he was looking for. His hands crawled around Wade's back and he found his rough skin under his shirt.

The fire he hadn't realized had been building in his chest started to die out into embers. He had just needed to touch Wade. To feel him. To be anchored to the one familiar thing left. He pulled away. 

"Oh that's mean. Don't do that. Come back." Wade clutched at him, trying to pull him back. Logan moved in a little closer as a compromise. 

"Your skin looks the way it does because of 'super cancer,' apparently." Logan said. 

"Who told you this?"

"You did." Logan had printed the shorter text file from the thumb drive and pulled it out of his back pocket. Wade scanned over it. 

"Fuck. Okay. You did the same." Wade pulled a piece of paper from one of his side cargo pockets. Logan immediately recognized his own chicken-stratch writing. "Looks like we made a bet of some sort. Wonder what the wager was?"

"Found something else with the note." Logan looked away, thinking for a moment, deciding if this was the time and place. "It's a picture of us at a chapel with a marriage license. I think we might be married."

Wade's body froze underneath him. 

"No…no no no." 

"Do you not want to be married to me?" Logan asked, trying to push the strange edge of hurt out of his voice. 

"No, I do. I do? I do. That just…scared me. I think…hm…I wasn't ready to hear it…I…I don't know. Just this feeling…" He paused. Then he leaned forward and pecked Logan quickly on the lips, fingers touching Logan's jaw. "Let's go back to the hotel and sleep." He opened the door and climbed inside stiffly. On the other side of the door, Logan stared vaguely through the window, then moved around to the driver's side.

#####

Wade woke up pre-dawn with Logan wrapped around him, face pressed into his back. That wasn't how they went to sleep. 

Married married married married. 

  The idea rumbled in the back of his head. It didn't feel right. Everything else had felt right. This didn't. 

"If you're finally awake, let's get going," Logan murmured into his shoulder. 

"How long have you been up?" Wade asked. 

"A while."

"And you just…laid there? Like this?" Wade patted Logan's arm then turned underneath it to face him. 

"Yeah. It…felt nice." Logan squeezed him around the waist a little. 

"It feels like things are starting to come back. Little stuff. Mostly emotions."

"Yeah. I had a dream about a mini-van, then woke up with a hard-on. I don't know what that means, but it feels like a memory."

"That's a fuck of a memory."

I kinda like it. That's…that's sexy. 

I want to fuck this man SO HARD. 

Why am I so freaked out about marriage if this is how I feel? 

married married married. 

Logan squeezed his ass.

"Let's get going." 

"You're being a lot more affectionate with me, now." Wade kept watching Logan as he, himself, crawled out of bed. 

"Am I? I'm not really thinking about it. Maybe it's those memories coming back?"

"Is it because you think we're married?" Wade asked, keeping a little bit of distance. 

"You don't think we actually are?" 

"Did you see signatures on the license? And we have to file it, right?" 

An out. That's what I need. An out. A place to wiggle through this weird feeling.

"That is a good point that I didn't consider." Logan paused as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Is this something you're ready to talk about, yet?" 

no no no no no.

"No?" Wade tested. Logan nodded then continued pulling his shirt down. 

Why is this starting to feel so…normal? Why is that so scary?

Wade leaned his head against the window watching huge swatches of desert and scrubland pass.

bored bored bored bored

Every time he tried to reach into his brain for something to think about, he felt like he was working through sludge. He flicked on the radio. Country. Gospel. A few preachers screaming about whatever passed for God these days. 

"Oooh, classic rock." Wade let his hands drift back into his lap. Logan turned the volume down slightly. 

"I think the age on my license is a fib." He tapped the panel of the radio. "Because I remember seeing Led Zeppelin live. They played this. But I'm one-hundred percent an adult in my memory. Passing a joint with someone…" Logan stared out through the window, eyes narrowing. "1972. Who would I have been hanging out with in 1972?"

"I'm imagining the world's worst blunt rotation, right now, not gonna lie."

Man, he's old. OLD old. I felt like I knew that because I'm not freaked out by being a graverobber. 

Maybe I'm a gerontophile.

I know the word gerontophile, apparently. Don't think I could spell it, though.

G-e-r….a?

That's not right. 

A small chapel slunk by them in the distance. 

The memory this triggered slushed through his brain like a waterfall over boulders. Sharp and tumultuous and never ending. 

"We fought over getting married. Or being married. Not to each other, just in general. I was engaged at some point, and it went tits up. You apparently can't keep a relationship together at all without someone dying or becoming a super-villain."

"That hurts. Feels like the truth, though, so I guess I can't be mad."

"Right right right. So we decided that maybe we just weren't the marrying type, right now, but we…" Wade fell off. The memory broke here. The pieces of information fell away too far, just the emotions remaining. "Something happened there. We…resolved the marriage idea…but that led to a fight. Or a…a discussion? Raised voices. I think we were drunk."

"Can we get drunk?"

"Maybe high? Oh god, I don't know want to know what kind of drug actually gets us fucked up. Okay let me think."

"....after what we've been through."

"You really don't think it would have happened without…"

"I mean, infinite universes and whatever but…"

"...that spark, though…"

"...Not denying that. Just practical…catalyst…growing through…"

"You make it sound like trauma bonding."

"Maybe it was, at first, but that's fine, right? At this point?"

"Yeah but…"

The voices layered on top of each other. He couldn't tell who was who. He pressed his hands to his ears, trying to hear the voices again, but they slipped away. 

"We got caught in some kind of gang war on our anniversary," Logan said suddenly. "And we had a conversation about what we thought our lives would look like if we weren't fighting all the time. We thought we'd be bored.  And we were…talking to Storm about it while doing drills in the danger room. And she called us emotional masochists, and I said something back and oh…that…didn't go well. I remember that…I don't…remember the rest."

Then it got weird. I remember. Holy shit. 

All the questions we had no idea how to answer. 

If we weren't superheros, would we have anything in common? 

Did we only work so well together because we could both regenerate? 

We were going to live for so so so so so long? What did the rest of our lives look like?

Wade pressed his palms to his ears again, trying to pull up the conversation in his head. Trying to relive it. It was gone, though. All of it. The echo of the information remained, but the memory itself just slipped back into the ether. 

"We need to get to Vegas. This started there." Wade tapped his knuckles on the window. "This isn't fun anymore. 

#####

Vegas lost a lot of its shine pulling into the main drag in the middle of the afternoon. 

"Any of this looking familiar, babe?" Logan asked. The term of endearment sort of slipped out. Muscle memory. 

"There." Wade pointed through the window. "We were in that casino."

"Good enough for me."

Weekday at 2 pm was apparently optimal parking, and they were walking into the front of the casino within ten minutes. 

"Oh fuck, not you again." A security guard was the first to approach them, hand hovering near his gun. 

"No one likes to see us," Wade mused. 

"Considering everything we've remembered, so far, I'm less and less surprised." Logan held up his hands to the guard who still hadn't decided if he was going to shoot, yet. 

"We're just trying to find somebody," Logan said. "Someone we talked to while we were here last." 

"You know how many people come in and out of here?" The guard said. 

"But you remember us," Wade pointed out. 

"Fair," admitted the guard.

"You guys were talking to Dr. Tom." This voice was a young woman in a waitstaff uniform with an empty drink tray tucked under her arm. 

"And where do we find Dr. Tom?" Logan sighed. They were so close to the end of this. This stupid stupid wild goose chase. 

Dr. Tom, apparently, was a plastic surgeon, and worked out of an office not too far off the strip. A little light threat to his secretary got them back in Dr. Tom's office. 

"You can calm the fuck down," Dr. Tom said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. None of them sat, and he gave up trying. "All I did was overhear you two talking about how it would be nice if you could forget for a while. I happened to point you to a friend of mine who happens to offer that service. People like to leave things in Vegas, sometimes."

"So you'll point us to this friend." Logan stepped forward. 

"Fucking yes. Just ask politely I'm not a super-villain, you weirdos. Jesus." Dr. Tom stepped back toward the wall. "But if you're going to go in there snapping out claws, I'm less-inclined to hand over the address. She's a good woman. She's trying to cure Alzheimer's and shit. That's how she figured out her compound. She uses the money she makes for research."

"Oh I hate when the antagonist is actually a good guy," Wade complained. 

"Okay," Logan agreed. "We just want to talk to her." 

This time they had to wait a few hours for her to get off work. They pulled up to a neatly aligned house out in the suburbs and the woman who greeted them, Dr. Charlotte Stone,  invited them freely into her garage. 

"Gentlemen! I'm so happy to see you again. Is it going well?"

"No," Wade said. 

"Surviving," Logan added. 

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Charlotte rerolled her hair into a bun and lowered the garage door behind them. "Did you put together letters and leave them in easy to find places?

They hovered weirdly in the center of her garage. Two walls were lab equipment, the third refrigerated storage. A computer station was tucked into the corner nearest the door into the house. 

"We did," Logan confirmed. "But I think we did it wrong. We didn't put in our notes why we did this memory…thing."

"You were trying to settle a bet, I believe, but let me see my notes." She pulled a binder down from a set of half cabinets. "Here we go. Let me pull up your video."

"Wait what? Video?" Wade moved forward, trying to peek over the top of the binder. She handed it over easily. "A lot of shorthand, so I don't know if you can read it."

Wade dropped the binder on the counter. 

"I can barely read, to start. I don't know why I bothered." 

Charlotte had moved to the computer, though, shifting focus. 

"Here you boys, go." She stepped back from the screen, and rotated it to them to see better. 

The video versions of themselves sat in their colored combat suits, bickering over who was going to explain. 

"It was my idea, I'll do it," said Video Wade. 

"Feels weird getting that confirmed," said real life Wade.

"I am convinced that we are soulmates. So in any universe, we would eventually meet and fall in love." Video Wade said.

"No you actually don't," video Logan corrected. "You're just trying to be contrarian." Video Logan turned flush to the camera again. "We've been having this much bigger conversation the past couple of months about the future of our relationship, which we'll --you'll remember again at some point. And I happened to say that I don't think that our relationship would look like it currently does without having gone through the things we went through. I didn't even say we wouldn't be together. Just…it'd be different."

"But you said it while we were in a wedding chapel," Video Wade said. "Feel like that changes the tone."

The screen versions of them bickered some more. 

"From this side of the screen, this argument looks really stupid," Wade said. 

"We look really upset, though," Logan noted. 

"You kind of were," Charlotte confirmed with a grim chuckle. "People only come to me when they think things are insurmountably dire and looking for a new perspective."

The video had started talking to them again, Wade staring down the camera. 

"We decided the only way to know for sure was to start from scratch. Wipe it all out and see what happens." Video Wade tapped the table they were sitting out with a sense of finality. There was a little more chatting, but the video seemed to have delivered all the important information.

"So how did this work?" Logan asked. "We have so many gaps."

"It's a series of liquid capsule pills depending on how much you want to get rid of and for how long. I gave you the first one to make sure you didn't have an immediate adverse reaction, then sent you off with the rest of the doses and instructions. Told you to do it in a safe place under the supervision of some friends. It's supposed to be a slow, gentle process to give you the option to stop at any time if it gets too weird. Guess you might not have…followed directions."

"Yeah, sounds like us," Wade sighed. 

"Okay. What's the plan to reverse it?" Logan shifted on his feet, nervous.

"Oh, it should wear off soon. Probably by tomorrow morning." 

"Thank God, okay. Okay." Logan clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Then that's it. It's over. All that stress and mystery."

"Yeah." Wade shifted on his own feet. 

"Well did it work?" Charlotte asked.

"What do you mean?" Logan responded. 

"Did you figure out the thing you were looking for? This whole…soul mate thing?"

Logan rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. 

"We uh…we woke up in a shack in the middle of Arizona."

Charlotte made a face at that but let him continue.

"And uh." Logan looked for the words for half a moment. "And I'm pretty certain I, uh…I woke up already in love with him."

"Oh, I know I did," Wade agreed. 

"I told you that might happen. I can wipe experiential life stuff, but the really strong emotional triggers very frequently linger."

"Cool, so we didn't learn anything." Wade shuffled his feet on the raw garage floor. Charlotte shrugged at them. 

"I find that when the memories come back, you figure out whatever you were meant to. Even if it doesn't seem like it, at first." 

#####

"Not that I'm complaining about room service snowcrab, why are we holing up in a hotel with the strip literally right there?" Wade picked a bit of shell out of his teeth, a chip of it sneaking into the leg meat when he cracked it open. 

Logan had found a place to get cigars and was finishing one on the balcony. Evening was bringing more people through, making everything a little louder. A little busier. Logan stamped out the end of his cigar on the railing and came back inside, closing the glass door shut. Everything dropped to a dull thrum again, just the sound of 30 Day Fiance reruns playing in the background on the TV. 

"Charlotte said she couldn't explain all our actions with her pills, so the probably don't work the same for us." Logan wandered restlessly through the room, stopping in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom. "So we're staying put. At least until I can get a hold of Scott and the others."

"Where the fuck did they go? They were supposed to meet us here." 

"Fucking dragon came back or something. I don't know." Logan leaned back against the doorframe even harder. 

He looked so tired . 

Fuck he looks how I feel, so I must be a goddamn mess in comparison. 

Wade swayed up from his hotel lounger and moved across the room. He wrapped his arms around Logan's waist and pressed his face into Logan's chest. Logan returned the affection with his arms gently resting around Wade's hips. 

"Holy fuck, I didn't realize how big this bathtub was when we walked in." Wade pulled free and wandered over to it, sitting on the edge. "Fucking Jacuzzi jets. Holy shit."

Oh, I'm getting in this bitch, right now.

He immediately started moving his hands over the knobs and looking in the cabinets for something to put in the water. 

"Holy fuck they have bathbombs." 

holy fuck glitter

All the rest of his thoughts were just about getting the shrinkwrap open and getting into the water. Soaking in it. Soothing his nerve endings.

Some clothes hit the floor out of the corner of his eye, and he flicked over his shoulder. Logan had shucked off his shirt and was now working on his belt. 

uhhhhhhh?!? 

fuck fuck

Now he was thinking about other things than taking a bath. 

"What?" Logan said when he caught Wade staring. "It's big enough for two. I thought that was the point." 

"No you just went from 'don't fucking touch me' to making out against a car to cuddling to bathing together really really fast. Getting a little whiplash." 

"Sorry." Logan flicked his hands. "I don't know. Things are just starting to feel normal again, so I'm just…I don't know. If you don't-" 

"Oh no. Now that you've started, you better take those fucking pants off." The crown-shaped bath bomb burst in swirls of pink glitter and shimmer. Wade dropped his eyes as Logan got in the water, something too overwhelming about seeing him naked all at once right now. 

His dick has been in my mouth. 

My dick has been in his mouth. 

We've been inside each other in so many different ways. 

calm the fuck down 

His body made the motions  on auto-pilot, stripping off his clothes and sliding into the water. Then through the water to sidle into the space between Logan's thighs. The instant their naked bodies pressed against each other, a year of touch memory flooded his body. 

hands touching, knuckles brushing

blades in my body, me begging for it

pressing inside me, thrusting hard, over and over

his soft, pulsing insides

teeth on flesh and flesh on teeth

"Fuck," Wade whispered, parting his knees around Logan's hips, wrapping his arms around Logan's shoulders so he didn't slide back into the water. 

I'm so hard. Oh god. I've never been this hard in my life.

Wade didn't even ask before slipping his hand down between them and taking both their cocks in his hand. Logan wasn't quite so hard to start, but that changed immediately.

"Wade," Logan cooed into his ear. "This wasn't necessarily the idea when I got in here."

"You don't get to be sexually sanctimonious on me. I can remember some things now. I talk a big game, but you're actually ten times hornier than me." He grabbed Logan's chin in his hand. "And we get the chance to have a first time again. How cool is that?" 

Logan rolled his face into Wade's neck. 

"I'm not saying 'no', I'm saying lean back."

Logan hinged forward, moving Wade into position below him, straddling Wade's lap. His mouth covered his, nipping and gnawing at Wade's lips, tongue flicking over Wade's gums and teeth. 

inside me

inside him

hard against hard, soft against soft, hard against soft

Logan lifted a little, hinging off the bottom of the tub at his knees. His hand came around Wade's cock and he pressed the tip to his entrance. 

"Oh baby girl don't go in raw," Wade gasped. 

"I'll trust the healing factor," Logan growled back, then eased down slowly on Wade's length until he settled at the base. "Okay, that actually hurts a lot more than I expected, you're right." He pressed his forehead to Wade's. "Ah. Okay. Okay. Fuck." He rolled his hips in a small circle, running up and down a half pulse on Wade's cock. "That's better. Okay. Yeah. Ah. That's good."

Logan kissed him again, this time quick and chaste, of all fucking things. 

"How does it feel, Wade?" Logan hissed. "Do I feel good inside?"

"Oh, I think I might die and eject everything from my body if you talk like that again." Wade clenched around Logan's hips and waist, nails digging into his skin and the muscle and fat and tissue underneath. Then Logan properly started moving, shifting up and down on his strong thighs and calves. 

I'm gonna get my memories back just to die from a cardiac arrest. 

"Why did you change your mind? About…about doing this while our memories are shot? About…everything…" Wade had to concentrate on the words, but he needed to say them. He needed to hear it out loud.

Logan whined and panted as he spoke, throat tight over the words, voice sparking at the top every time he dropped down. 

"You said you would fold to a one night stand with me, no question. I imagined the same thing. Meeting you in a bar. You sitting down…hah…next to me. Buying me another round of whatever I was having. You'd probably annoy the shit out of me, at first, but the fact is after a little while I'd probably start thinking you're kind of funny. Kind of…nhg…kind of cute. And if you flirted with me and asked me to go home with you, I would have probably done it. We would have fucked, and it would have been hot. So why hold back, at this point?" 

"So you agree we're soul mates? "

"I agree that we're two horny idiots who can do this to each other without getting hurt." Along the top of the water, he clicked out his blades, jabbed them into Wade's ribs, then pulled back. Wade squealed.

fuck shit fuck fuck. 

It is so fucked up how good that feels.

"So given certain variables, I see us drifting together for some real kinky sex, at minimum. I don't know how the other stuff works, just yet." He gripped Wade around the chin and pulled his face up to kiss him again. "Any other concerns? Because I'd like to keep going without having to think so hard."

"No, I'm…I'm good…" 

Wade's hips started bucking up into Logan, trying to sink even deeper into him as Logan came down. The water sloshed out of the tub, swirling around their conjoined bodies and swishing into the in between spaces in a constant rhythm. He grasped for Logan's cock and started hurried, desperate strokes. 

"Slow down, baby. I wanna come together." Logan buried his face into the side of Wade's head. 

This feels…feels….feels…

…different…

soft and hard, hard and soft

They didn't normally do it like this. He could feel the shape of that. That weird combination of familiarity and novelty. His muscle memory wasn't kicking in, so he was falling back on intuition and guesswork and being an adult with, presumably, at least an ounce of sexual experience. 

He spread his free around the outside of Logan's ass, willing him to sink lower, to bury Wade deeper inside. Logan sensed the desire and somehow got his body to drop even farther, to open even more for Wade. 

The orgasm almost snuck up on him, the heat and weight of the water distracting all his other never endings. He started stroking Logan again, taking to a speed he somehow knew would bring him there. Logan arched forward, hands gripping the edge of the tub on either side of Wade's head. His hips moved from a pulse to a grind. Wade moved faster. 

Wade came hard inside, pulling from the tops of his aching feet and toes and clenching his teeth.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Logan let out a guttural howl. Then there was a sharp metal sound that clanked against porcelain. The sidewall of the tub collapsed against Wade's shoulders. 

"Fuck." The plug was to his left, and he slammed the switch open to drain the tub. He sat up, still inside, bringing Logan along with a hand around his back. Logan's claws were still out. Wade touched them. 

"Peanut. The claws."

"Right, yeah." Logan, however, was staring at the backside of the tub. "I didn't totally break it. It's still containing the water." Logan dropped his arms around Wade's shoulders. "That was fast on the draw for the plug."

"I have a sneaking suspicion this has happened before." 

"Hm." Logan trailed his fingers up and down Wade's spine. "Wanna go again?"

"Five minutes. Then I'm bottom this time. So get ready for me to be as bratty as possible."

#####

"Loooooooooogan." It was mid-morning. His boyfriend's voice was in his ear. His boyfriend's teeth were nipping at his skin. His boyfriend's hand was on his chest, now it was sliding down his stomach. 

"I'm spent, babe," Logan said. 

"I know, honey-suckle just trying to get your attention." Wade rolled on top of him, hooking his leg over Logan's hip. "We're not married. The license you found was, like…a gag gift. A souvenir. We never actually had them send it to the registrar..

"Yeah, I remembered while your mouth was around my dick." 

Wade gently tossed his phone across to the other side of the bed.

"I found the text thread where I was pranking Laura with it." 

"I don't think you ever showed me what she said.

"She said she was going to call me 'step-daddy' in a way that made everyone around us as uncomfortable as possible." Wade rubbed his forehead against his chest. 

"That's my girl," Logan chuckled. "Haven't remembered why we were in Arizona, yet, though."

"Yeah. See. So I actually remember that pretty well, now. Um. I had the idea that we should be completely and totally away from anyone and anything we knew when we finished the memory wipe. I knew about a safehouse outside Ajo from my pre-cancer merc days. We just didn't make it, I think. Saying it back, though, I'm not following my own logic."

"Yeah, I have a memory of watching you snort a line of cocaine, but me not stopping you. So I think something about that first pill she gave us really fucked us up."

"Yeah, I'm remembering mostly everything, but there's about three days where the timeline just isn't…it just isn't, you know what I mean?" 

"I think we're going to have to accept that some stuff isn't going to come back." 

"I'm fine with that. All the important stuff did." Wade rested his face into the crook of Logan's neck. "So…how are we feeling? Now that we know why we did this?"

"I feel like we're idiots," Logan replied. 

"Yeah…I actually do feel…extremely dumb holy shit Charlotte was right. I'm having such extreme clarity about everything. It's like going on an ayahuasca trip but worse, somehow."

Logan rolled over and pressed Wade into the mattress. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at him. Wade stared up through his eyelashes up at him. Logan wrapped his hand around Wade's side. 

"I think it's going to be a very long time before we retire from being badasses and have to worry about not having anything in common. So we can wait to worry about that then."

"Oh, you're assuming we'll still be together when we're old and decrepit ugly."

"I intend to be handsome 'til I die, so whatever you want to do is up to you." Logan pressed his lips to Wade's forehead. "But I know for a fact I'm having too much fun to voluntarily stop this any time soon. So unless you die on me…"

Wade lifted up and pecked him on the lips. 

"Which we both know is extremely difficult. So, yeah, no. You're going to be stuck with me forever. Sucks to be you."

"Sucks to be me." Logan dropped down to lie on top of Wade, tucking his arms underneath him. Wade's arm came up around his back and he scratched his nails across Logan's skin.

"You know, we could leave Las Vegas properly married. Just make the appointment."

"Nah," Logan replied. "When we get married I want to do it properly. I want to remember everything."

"Hm." Wade replied, humming low and deep. 

#####

When we get married. Not if. When. 

when when when when when when

When.   

[zombie-bait]

Omg i just realized I have something tiny to add to the whole James Somerton debacle. I'm currently watching the hbombguy vid (as you do when procrastinating assignments) and I remembered something that stood out to me in James' old videos.

So I used to be a fan of his stuff. I am also a fan of Hannibal and IWTV. He made a video covering both so naturally I was very hyped. It was called 'The Gay Appeal of Toxic Love.' The vid itself was fine (I don't remember having any super strong opinions of it besides being excited to hear ppl mention Interview cuz I had recently become obsessed) but one thing did stand out to me. In the IWTV section he mentions Nicki and, naturally, his death:

"After becoming a vampire, Nicky becomes nearly catatonic, and eventually slips away from Lestat entirely. And after centuries of dealing with depression and severe mental illness, Nicky kills himself."

(sourced from this transcript: https://github.com/TerraJRiley/James_Somerton_Transcripts/blob/main/Transcripts/The%20Gay%20Appeal%20of%20Toxic%20Love.txt)

To anyone who's read TVL, I don't think I need to explain that Nicki had not, in fact, been around for centuries. "Nicki had lived to be 30" has been rattling around in my head since I first read it.

And like, obviously I don't expect every youtube essayist to read several long-ish novels to have a full grasp of the series' deep lore, especially when the focus was largely on IWTV and Loustat rather than the entire Vampire Chronicles. Still, it makes you wonder a bit about the quality of the research being done here. You can find the proper info in like, 5 seconds by just going on the fan wiki so I'm not sure what his sources were. And that's the issue at hand, isn't it?

At the time I felt a tiny bit smug recognizing the error but in light of everything that's been revealed, it's kind of telling. I'm not saying this part was plagiarized (I haven't found anything but others on reddit have found issues with different sections of the same video) but rereading the transcript it comes off as someone who clearly doesn't know much about Interview.... It feels like he's reading through a loose summary of plot points rather than analyzing a piece of media that actually means anything to him. It's very much Interview for people who don't know Interview which, one could argue is fair. Especially beyond book one, VC is a niche series and a lot of elements that are important to certain characters or plot lines cannot be summarized quickly for an audience unfamiliar with it. A good writer, who's done a lot of research about the specific topic they have chosen to make a video on, would be able to balance this. There is a LOT to analyze about queerness in VC and its a shame to see one of the more popular queer media channels half-assing it just to churn out videos heavily made up of other people's work. In retrospect he had several videos like that, where he would discuss things like manga/manhua communities while clearly having little knowledge on the nuance of those subjects. He was an outsider who presented himself with a strange amount of authority.

This was content created with the sole intention of propping up queer stories and history, yet it's built off stolen work from queer authors and doesn't actually care that much about exploring the communities it features. Vids like the IWTV one weren't really fact checked because it's only people like me who would might give a shit or even notice anything is off in the first place. There's a bit of a similar vibe in some of his other vids where he undermines the experiences of queer women because he clearly has not taken the time to learn about the nuances of representing queer women in media. These are things that irritated me when I first started to notice them but I put those concerns in the back of my mind because I cared about the topics he was covering and was excited to see these discussions becoming more mainstream.

The revelations of this evening have been disappointing to say the least.

(also for the record I know he made other more recent vids about IWTV but I haven't seen those and even if his account was still up I don't think I would lol

BUT

I did look at the transcript for his 'Vampires and the Gays Who Love Them' video (found from the same link I included above) and this quote about the IWTV AMC show is sending me: "Daniel has never grappled with the complexities of being gay"

Shoutout to straight, uncomplicated icon Daniel Molloy. Devil's Minion was a mass hallucination, spread the word)

[yuurivoice]

Sorry if you've gotten loads of asks like this before, but do you have any advice for somebody who wants to start making audio rps?

I have answered this a million different ways because I've never really hammered out all of my advice, so maybe I'll do that and make it available for folks.

My advice I've got today is *drumroll*...

Identify what your goals are, and how you plan to accomplish them! Even when starting out as just a hobby, I think clearly defining what YOU want out of the experience is a great first step.

What motivates you to create? What inspires you? How will you use that to reach whatever goals you might have, and what challenges and questions might you face?

You can absolutely just do it on a whim, but having a few notes on what you're trying to do can really help create some tracks for you yo start running on. It also will help you keep in mind what got you started in the first place whenever you might get disheartened.

This does mean, sometimes you might realize you're pursuing a thing for selfish or fickle reasons. A lot of people might take up streaming, for example, because they think people get to play games and be silly online and get money for it, so you want to do it too. Which is not a very grounded or logical reason to pursue anything with any sort of consistency. So find your why and let that embed itself in your core.

From there, it's about having fun. Maybe you just do some short voice memos to practice, or challenge yourself to speak in a voice for a certain period of time (PRIVATELY PROBABLY UNLESS YOU ARE OKAY BEING THAT PERSON LOL) and find something you can do consistently. Even your own speaking voice is fine. It's more about your performance than anything. Trying to find a natural delivery is one of the biggest things to tackle early on.

There are many scripts you can find online you can use with credit, or you can write your own things. I encourage people that fandom content is actually a pretty great way to dabble (and you can use official artwork and not ripoff any artists) but I don't see nearly as many people doing that versus say, finding something so bad it looks like it was stolen off a 2010 era photobucket account.

Don't feel like you have to splurge on equipment for a hobby. People have blown up just using their phones. It's not that serious, until it is. But it ain't at the moment.

Uhhhhhh...

Be responsible with what you're putting out. A lot of listeners put trust in the creators they let into their ear holes. Mindfulness goes a long way.

Okay that's all I've got for now. Sorry if that's extremely scattered. 😂

[yandevee]

Johnny Cage × Reader

Chapter 1

You are a fangirl but he is kinda into it because he loves the attention

In all fairness, you didn't really mean to go through a glowing blue portal.

You usually spend your days wondering the streets of the oh so famous Hollywood. Honestly in contrast to popular belief fame city wasn't all hot gossip and movie shoots.

There was a dark side, a poor and homeless side, that had been creeping up throughout the years.

You...are a part of that percentage. There is a lovely little place on the tip top of an apartment building that you have found sanctuary. A lovingly crafted shack made from two tall and sturdy pieces of plywood and a blanket draped over the top. The loving part was the string of battery-operated lights that you managed to steal from a dollar store. Along with your trusty, kinda beat up CD playing laptop you may or may not have also stolen...

It's not much but it's yours, along with the beautiful view of the walk of fame.

You wished desperately to get to that place you call 'home', but fate seems to have a different plan.

---pov---

Oh shit oh fuck. I've really done it now.

You know all these years of shoplifting and never ONCE has someone chased me down a street for a fucking CD!

"Just stop running! If you give it back I swear I won't call the cops!" This guy has some damn good stamina.

My legs beg me to give in, but there was absolutely no way in hell I'm giving this up. It's Johnny's newest film!

"YOU DEFINITELY DONT GET PAYED ENOUGH FOR THIS SIR! Probably $8.00 a hour at MOST." I yelled over my shoulder, not looking where I'm going.

Wait.

Why is it daytime?

WHERE DID THAT GUY GO?

I stop and catch my breath. At the very least, this means he won't get me. "How did I even get here?"

"That's what I want to know." I'm mildly embarrassed at the yelp that left me. Only a tad. Ok, maybe a lot.

I nearly jump out of my skin and turn around to see a man with... white glowing eyes? He's tall with dark hair pulled partially into a bun, wearing a white, undone shirt and dark blue pants.

"Uh, you're not the guy from the video store."

"Definitely not." It feels like his gaze is burning holes in me. Clearly, I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be.

He took my stiff figure in slowly, like as if he was trying to scan me for...well something. "You are lost?" Uh, no shit?

I don't know the guy. I can't just say that out loud, so I settled with a nod. He looked more relaxed and settled his eyes on the CD I had clutched to my chest.

"Where am I? If you don't mind me asking that is-" I've had my fair share of fights to know that I don't wanna be on this guy's list. Especially since his eyes are glowing like a comic villain.

He gave me one more once over before giving a soft smile. "How about you follow me, and we can discuss your questions." I'm not too sure about that one chef. This has murder written all over it.

For whatever reason, I find myself following after him despite my thoughts.

He led me through courtyards of men in orange that were training tirelessly. There were beautiful statues and lush greenery that complimented the stone pathways. I took it all in, and the only thing the serene setting gave me was more and more questions.

HEWOO~ HAI

This is my first time writing something like this but I CRAVE more Johnny content and honestly I was like 'Oh wait I can make some' so here I fucking AM!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAA there will be more parts definitely but hope you enjoyed chapter one! Next one should be longer- baiiii

[flowerandblood]

Copyright & Fanfics

Fanfic authors have copyright on their work and it is protected by law, like any artwork. It stems from moral copyright, which people who enjoy stealing plot ideas, gifs or fanarts confuse with economic copyright.

So from the outset:

moral copyright protects the author's indefinite and indissoluble bond with the work. It results from the creator's emotional and intellectual involvement in the creation of the piece. This bond cannot be extinguished. It cannot be transferred or waived.

The rights cover the author's contribution to the work, what he gave of himself − the things he independently invented and the way he described them − in other words, all the things that don't make up the canon, are not source material or are not obvious (you can't say that someone independently invented that the characters breathe, have sex, the way it happens, because it's related to the culture we live in and the predetermined rules).

What fanfic or fanart authors don't have the right to do is to profit financially from their work unless they get permission from the creator of the source material − HBO, for example. Some people risk a lot by doing this and in cases where someone does it on a large scale it can end up in a lawsuit.

However, creating fan content for free is not only not illegal, it is actually covered by (moral) copyright.

Some people clearly have a problem separating what can be 'stolen' and what can't, so let's get more specific.

[ what is not subject to copyright ]

− tropes

Let's not kid ourselves − often old tropes are used in new fandoms within other characters. A trope is just a template that dictates the time period and subject matter, however, there are so many ways to resolve it that an infinite number of dissimilar works can be created.

− the use of canon and source material

We cannot have someone steal from us something that is not ours. If certain dialogues or scenes have been used in a TV series, a book or, for example, explained by actors in interviews, it is not ours, it is just generally accepted knowledge that anyone can use.

− things attributed to everyone's life

People eat breakfast and dinner, take baths, text, communicate through computers, take public transport or cars. These are normal things, and the mere fact that a character in someone's story 'drove a car' or 'ate breakfast' is no discovery or plagiarism.

[ what constitutes plagiarism ]

− copying someone else's style of expression

Anyone who writes knows that authors create their own distinctive style quite quickly, use their favourite words, combine them in their own specific way. They structure dialogue differently, divide paragraphs differently, narrate characters' minds differently. If someone wants to write a particular lead as we do, it's easy to spot what I'll deal with in the next section.

− copying plot solutions, dialogues, characters' thoughts with only slight modification

By this I mean those solutions that are invented by us. For example, in my story where Aemond is the Young Pope, my authorial solution is not that the action takes place in the Vatican or that my heroine has to kiss his hand like every pope.

My authorial solutions are that they have breakfast together in the garden, their conversation on the roof, his interview, what my heroine helps him with and why, his story, the fact that he compares my heroine to Bernini's sculptures, all their dialogues, intimate scenes and other side characters that I invented for the plot.

If someone writing their story used the things I mentioned in the previous paragraph it wouldn't be inspiration, it would be plagiarism − I spent hours making it up, and what? Someone would think it was good material and rework it for themselves?

What does not fall under "plagiarism" in this story − all the references to the source material, i.e. The Young Pope − the fact that the protagonist smokes, that his mother is a nun, that the action takes place in the Vatican, that he wants to bring about a revolution, that he exercises physically and walks around in a white tracksuit.

− the sequence of events not following from the canon, i.e. the so-called storyline

I don't mean that the characters meet and have sex, because let's agree that's the general sense of smut fanfic. It's about how it happens − where and why the characters meet, what happens to them next, their conversations, dilemmas and so on.

The fact that my male character from The Man in the Black Mask is actually a completely different person that everyone thought, what happens to the protagonist's mother and herself, what happens afterwards to her and her father, Aemond's backstory − it was all a product of my imagination. If someone wanted to write a new sworn protector Aemond and used my plot solutions leading to similiar results, it would be plagiarism.

− dialogues and creating tension in intimate scenes

We can all agree that when it comes to smut and sex scenes, we all go in circles because the number of ways it can be done is very limited, so I would be very careful with accusations in these areas. However, still, what an author can do, and what makes these stories so popular, is to create tension through full dialogue and gestures − and copying these can already be something clearly proven.

to sum up

One or two paragraphs like ours for an entire story may be a bit of an exaggerated accusation, unless of course they are copied word for word. We have to follow logic. Sometimes it's better to ask an outsider who doesn't write:

Hey, do you think these two paragraphs are similar?

We, as people accustomed to and connected with our works, can find "references" to our work very quickly, but it may turn out that a person from the side will make us realize that the similarity to the essence is distant and comes down only to the fact that the scene takes place, e.g. in the car and the hero is sad, but that's it.

Sometimes it is better to think carefully before we want to be "inspired" by someone and before we "accuse" someone of this "inspiration". It is worth taking screenshots and comparing the two works if we feel that someone may have been inspired too much.

If we find this to be the case, such common areas should be highlighted and preferably a screenshot should be sent to the author with a request for clarification, retaining all evidence beforehand, of course.

Remember that everyone has the right to explain themselves.

However, if we do not receive a reply and we see such a person publishing further, it is worth to write publicly about our observations and simply warning that this person may be copying other people's work (unless the quotations, dialogue and sentences are almost identical, in which case the word "certainly" is needed).

I generally caution authors against using the word "inspiration" and looking for such in fandom. Look for them in literary classics, where no one will accuse you of plagiarism.

Personally, I read the stories of only 2-4 people, my closest friends, whose works I adore, but also thanks to the limitation of their number, I know what they write about, what their plots looks like and that I will not be "inspired" by them in any way, even involuntarily − apart from improving my language, which is always a good thing.

[babygirlispunk]

Clandestine

Chapter 2: The Encounter

Previous ✧ Masterlist ✧ Next

Chapter Summary: You and your people rejoice over your victory over Bo-Katan but questions still burn in your mind. A peaceful day for yourself results in an undercover recon.

Word Count: 5.5k

Chapter Content: 18+, sexual themes, good ol' pseudo-dad lovin, sexual tension and feeling up another.

Celebrations continued over a few days. Though you had not killed her, you had proven yourself the protector of your people and let it be known that Bo was at your mercy. Dodac and Jak recounted the fight multiple times to their peers, cheers-ing when they finished with your final blow that knocked her out. Items were thrown at the prized helmet placed on a pike in the middle of the temple, dripping from whatever drink had been poured on it. You sit idly on you chair at the back of the decrepit temple watching your peers dance, sing and cheer through the night. 'Oya' being chanted out loud.

The moonlight shining through the stain glass windows is block by your trusted shadow. You turn to Bessel, asking questions only with your face. He simply raised his eyebrows and points his head towards door and makes his way. You follow behind smiling at the men and women on the way congratulating you over again.

You sit beside Bessel in front of the bonfire in the court yard. Without prompting, he speaks. "They seem to have gotten their wounds tended to and have finally left the planet."

"How did they look?"

"She was unrecognisable, barely walking. Dignity gone." he reports.

"And the other one?" Bes scoffs at your question, fidgeting with his gloves, staring into the pit within the flames, something clearly still bothering him. It was very rare for him to ever be snarky so you hesitate to ask- "Speak your mind Bes."

"You seem particularly interested in the silver one." His gaze dips to the ground, contemplating his words. "I saw you eyeing him down in the market, even when Bo was right in front of you." Eyebrows furrowed, you look at Bes worried. "And again, when she was at your feet, you were distracted by him. You may not have realised how long had passed when you were face to face but Dodac and Jak noticed it too." His voice trails off.

You could hear concern in his voice. Your current father figure and second in charge since you escaped Mandalore, you understand why he would be protective of you. But you were a grown woman and a leader. No time for whatever he was trying to imply. "Were you not intrigued as well? Did it not occur to you that he held the darksaber and not Bo? A child of the watch nonetheless..."

"He was just another Mando from her crew." Bes still stares at the ground. "She's muddled with so many different chakaaryc, it's no surprise she's working with that di'kut."

"Di'kut or not, you know as well as I that she would not just give the saber away to anyone. Not over her own dead body."

Bes sits in a moments silence trying to make sense of it as well. "You've heard the rumours, she lost it during the Great Purge, stolen or won by someone else. Maybe it was him."

You stand up from your seat, frustrated by his reasoning. You pace in the spot, flexing the scar on your burnt hand, now healed; courtesy of Vi'ra. But it itches, just like the frustration gnawing at you.

"I just want to know what the damn dynamic is between them. It just makes no sense. Who is he and why hasn't she taken the sword from him." Crossing your arms, you turn to the fire for warmth, Bessel sighing behind you. "He was right though."

"About what?" Bes asks cautiously.

"As much as we don't want to say it... She definitely could have won that fight. She was always the better fighter."

"I think it is unfair to compare yourself to when you would spar with her as a child and she was grown. You have trained fiercely and have shown yourself a worthy fighter my lady." Boasting like he were your actual father.

But the truth was the truth. "Bo is known galaxy wide not only for her crimes but her undeniable fighting skills as well. She held back... and I think she told him to as well"

"So why didn't you kill her when you had the chance. Even though the covert is celebrating, I hear the whispers questioning why you spared her and didn't take the saber when you knocked him too."

"It was a cheap shot, he let me get him. So I didn't win the sword righteously. And it's more trouble than it's worth."

"More trouble than in the hands of someone else? Someone that fights besides her? He doesn't even have a drop of real Mandalorian blood."

Silence falls between the two of you as you lose yourself in your thoughts watching the flames flicker and spark. Even though you were young, the covert chose you to lead them. They saw the qualities you hold resemble the late Duchess, your cousin, Satine. With the confidence of the people, you found confidence in yourself to lead them and keep them safe. No one had ever questioned your judgment, so to hear Bessel question you and the whispers going on behind your back... maybe you didn't make the right choice sparing Bo. Maybe that is were your resemblance with Satine faulters. Would you share the same fate as her?

"Did I make a mistake."

"Would you like me to send a scout to track them?" He avoids your question with another. He was good like that, not letting your doubts get the better of you and instead offering guidance.

You think hard about your next move. In a situation like this, there was only one person you trusted. "Yes... and I want you to be the one to do that." You turn back to face Bes and he is stunned.

"I know you are capable and we have other strong fighters but I do not feel comfortable leaving you alone." His eyes are stern as always but you see a slight prick of concern in them.

"You are my trusted advisor and guard, which means you will be the best person to make any necessary decisions if the occasion arises. If you see or find anything of concern, I trust that you will make the right choice that will benefit us." His eyes search your face, conflicted. "If there is ever trouble, I know you can protect yourself and come back home to us. And to give you peace of mind, you can choose who will temporarily hold your place by my side."

Bes begrudgingly agrees, knowing he would do whatever his Marchioness wants and needs. If it meant travelling the stars away from you and keeping the usurper and stranger away, then so be it.

A couple days had passed. Bessel had patrolled the planet for sightings and intel on Bo and Din, making sure they had really left the planet before taking off into the stars to find them, wherever that may be.

The clan is running back to normal. Training in the court yard, taking on bounties, participating in activities and labour for the locals around the farm lands and the city and negotiating within Keren commercial hub.

Comforted by the news that Bo and Din are not on planet anymore, you have decided that you would spend the day in the city without your armour.

"Are you sure you don't want me to escort you?" Dodac, who for now takes Bessel's place, stumbles around you trying not to stand on your dress as you make your way out the temple gates. "Even if they aren't here, there may be other threats. I'm sure Zo'ha told you about the rouge Ganguns attacking the fishing villages."

"I'll be fine. Ganguns are easy pickings and I wouldn't leave without a weapon. You know this."

Dodac scans over your body trying to find said weapon before you expose your thigh from the slit of your dress and reveal the small pistol strapped on. He blushes at the realisation before standing with his hands to his side and bowing his head. "I'm sorry my lady, I'm just doing my best to live up to Bes' role."

You give him a small chuckle. Since Bes had chosen Dodac to hold his role, he had been running around, frazzled, ordering people and taking on every job and query. He was more accustomed to taking orders rather than giving them. Along with the new work load, he had also become overbearingly protective of you like you were a child. He was doing his best but you do wish he treated you as he did before.

"I'm the one you should be scared of." You jest getting an awkward laugh out of him. "Comm me for anything you are unsure of, suvarir?"

He nods diligently and you continue on towards town. He breathes out a deep sigh and you hear him click his comm.

"And you better not send anyone to shadow me!"

"Dank Farrik" He hisses under his breath.

You make you way to town by yourself, today of all days, because it was your birthday. Which is why Bessel had given you your gift before he set off.

"It only made sense that our leader has a new gun to protect us and herself rather then giving all the good resources to her people." Bes passes the gun to you even after your protests. He had wrapped it in a limp bow that had been tied over and over again, a sign that he had struggled to make it look nice but the sentiment was well appreciated. It was definitely a newer model.

Looking up at him and you give him a sad smile. "This would have costed so many credits..."

"You are worth it." He gives you a gruffy smile back. "And it will give me peace of mind knowing that piece of shit pistol you have won't be blowing up in your hand again."

You wrap your arms around Bessel's giant body, fingers barely reaching the other around him and squeeze tightly. "Vor entye."

"Always a pleasure serving you." Bes murmurs your name.

If it weren't for Bes, you truly believe you would have forgotten your real name long ago. After years being called by your moniker assigned by your father, you always feel dazed by the sound of your birth name. When you were adopted into the Kryze family, your father thought you were deserving of a more distinguished and memorable name than your own, which was reserved for family and close friends. "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad" He said appointing you as Calista Kryze. Now even, no one in the clan knows it.

"I must go now before their trail is lost."

You squeeze him tighter. Even though it was you who set him on the task and know him proficient enough, it still ached you to let him go. He has been by your side since the Great Purge, served your father and mother and was there the day you were adopted. He was the one to speak on your behalf and convince them you were the one to lead the then disparaged and lost Mandalorians.

"Make sure you come back alive."

"Ret'urcye mhi"

You usually spent your Birthday with Bes. You would tour around Naboo, visit the capital, window shop at boutiques well out of your price ranges, watch the street acts, hang out at the social clubs listening to the jazzy music. Of course, everyone else thought we were doing recon while reports would go through Bes and he would decide whether they were worth interrupting your day, otherwise he wouldn't tell you and let you enjoy the one day you aren't a leader. He was truly the father you had lost during the Great Purge, guiding you but still letting you grow into your own. Even spoiling you every so often, like the pistol. A few years back he had also bought the dress you are wearing now. He justified it by saying that you had to wear it every year to make up for the credits and that when we were back home, not even then were you wearing your armour every day.

(this is the vibe of the dress I had in mind, but more in a sand colour, minus the pearl straps and more off the shoulder look with the sleeves and of course the slit on the right leg)

But with him out in space, you decided it was best to stay in Keren to stay close to your people in case of emergency. The walk from the temple was a decent hike to Keren (shorter by jetpack and speeder) but you were happy wasting hours away enjoying the nature around you. Like every other day on Naboo, it was beautiful. Sun shining down warming up your body but cooled down by the soft breeze. Nature was abundant and thrived from the favouring environment. You always forget how soothing it was to feel the world interact with your body rather than be blocked off by beskar.

When you eventually reach the main city, it is bustling with trade and business. Bodies are pacing around, traders yelling out their sales, vendors sizzling what ever it is they are cooking. Men haggling, women gossiping, children laughing. Surveying the area, everything seems normal. You speak to a few locals and traders, getting any insight on suspicious activity. Even though Naboo was a relatively quiet planet didn't mean it was adverse to smugglers, mercs and other trouble. There were enough jobs to keep you and your people busy and the credits flowing, occasionally accepting the rare off world bounty job for that extra bit of credit.

We kept low and in small groups, wearing robes over your armour to avoid suspicion and circumvent any alarms raising from the capital. We blended in with the local as best as we could.

You perch yourself against a wall to rest your feet, cursing to yourself that you didn't wear better shoes instead opting for a pair of sandals to match your dress. To distract yourself from the pain you listen on other conversations.

Nothing of note. Not till you notice a slight change in the atmosphere. It felt almost silent even when people were still talking. Something was off. You looked around following the direction everyone was gazing. Just out of sight there was a group of people huddled together watching something.

You make your way over, grunts and punches getting louder as you draw near. You pray it wasn't one of yours caught up in a petty brawl. Squeezing your way through the horde, lo and behold, the silver Mandalorian stands before you. Bes was thorough, how did Din get past him unnoticed?

He's holding a Twi'lek by the throat. Your hand rubs at your own neck, heart rate picking up a little, remembering yourself in the same position not long ago.

The Twi battered up and clearly losing, he lifts his other arm for another punch. The Twi'lek throws up his hands in surrender nearly crying, regretting whatever it was he did to antagonise Din.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he pleads. Din's grip squeezed harder around his throat. You get a bit of a warm feeling down your stomach seeing his hand wrapped whole around the Twi's neck. "I just.. wanted to see i-if it was real be -be-beskar!" The Twi barely gets his words past Din's hand, turning a darker shade of blue than what he already is.

You snort at the idea of someone trying to grab your armour too. Your reaction wouldn't have been much different.

Din let's go around the Twi's throat and they drop to the ground. Like a hive mind, the onlookers surrounding the scuffle quickly disperse not wanting to be Din's next victim. Except for you. You stand grounded when you realise his helmet is looking in your direction. You hover your hand over you strapped leg, ready to make the first shot if you need to.

He starts walking towards you and you hand itches to grab your gun but it seems as though he is coming in for a close fight.

But he doesn't.

He just keeps walking, like you weren't even there. On his way past you his arms bumps your shoulder, momentarily losing your balance.

"Hey!"

He stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder to look at you. "What's your problem? Was that your buddy I beat up?" he snarls.

"Huh?" As soon as you responded you realised what was going on here. You had your face screwed, eyebrows pinched together clearly pissed off to see him back but he didn't recognise you. A cool breeze swirling around your dress reminded you that you weren't armoured up. To him, you were just some random angry woman.

He just scoffs and trudges off into the crowd, sun glinting off him just like the first time you saw him

You speak into your comm. "Who is patrolling the Keren market?"

"Tiiona and Jak, my lady. Are you okay?" Dodac sounds stressed.

"Have they reported anything?"

"Nothing of note."

You consider whether this is worth reporting but since you were amour-less and may need back up on call, you comm back. "I have spotted Bo's partner."

"Dank Farrik! Do you we take action my lady?

"No. Inform them but tell them to keep back. I'll trail him myself. It seems he has come back alone."

"What if he spots you?"

"He doesn't know my face, I am just a local to him"

"Noted. If you don't comm me in an hour, I will send back up."

"Make it two."

You start following behind at a distance. Ebbing and weaving through the crowd, traders occasionally stopping him on his path trying to coax him to buy their products. He shoos them off and continue to push his way through the crowd. Eventually he stops, staring into one of the alleyways, contemplating his next turn. He carries on and you quickly rush to the corner to peak over. He takes a few steps and enters, disappearing behind the wall. Waiting a few moments, you follow suit, nearing closer you hear music coming from the entrance of a cantina. You recognise that you are at Club Sedatus.

Checking both directions before entering, you shimmy past two other people making their out. Music envelopes you as you walk in. Compared to the likes of Tatooine, this cantina is more sophisticated. Dim lighting mainly emitting from the bar in the centre of the room, private booths and jazzy music. Few people dancing on the open space.

Din stands at the bar, light glowing off him like the moon, both his hands placed down and talking to Boler the bartender. He was mixing up a glass for another person clearly trying to ignore him. As you walked towards the bar you could hear frustrations brewing between them, Din pointing his finger at Boler, threatening him.

"I'm telling you buddy, I don't know where the Mando's are. No one knows or cares where they hide." He passes the drink to a Mon Calamari who takes it, walking back to their friends. He too puts hands on the bar leaning forward trying to match Din's energy but fails, you see his finger tapping nervously. "Some pass by every now and then. But they never stick around long enough."

"What do they look like?" He says husky and deep.

"Which ones?"

"Any of them!"

Before Boler can answer, you interject. "Can I get a drink or is this where we come to gossip." You speak more sweetly than usual to avoid him recognising your voice.

"You're back. Come for more alcohol for your celebration?"

You stiffen at the mention of the celebration, seeing Dins head turn towards you from the corner of your eye. You hold back from looking at him but you could feel yourself burning under his gaze. You decided to treat your clan with drinks for the celebrations after defeating Bo, buying the alcohol from Boler under the guise of your birthday. He was very eager to sell days worth of alcohol and may have up'd the price as well.

"We still have plenty left over, thank you. Enough for whatever birthday comes next." You smile.

"If you have so much left, why are you here to drink?" You realise your contradiction as Din questions you.

You finally look at him, staring into the black abyss of his visor. "I like the atmosphere here. I needed something more calm after spending days partying."

"How old are you now?" Boler asks.

"Old enough." you chuckle out sarcastically, still very aware that Din is burning holes into you. "Now can I have that drink?"

Boler gives a wink and starts shaking up a concoction for you. You stand there watching him trying to seem as relaxed as possible despite the fact you could see in your peripheral vision that the silver menace was still eyeing you down. You decide to engage with him instead.

"Want a hologram? It lasts longer."

No response.

"You want a drink?"

No response.

"You awake in there?" You wave your hand in front of his helmet.

He grabs you by the wrist. "Did you follow me here just to bother me?"

You snort at the audacity. He was the one staring yet calls you a bother? He was getting on your nerves. "I was on my way here actually. If anyone's bothering anyone, it's you."

His helmet turns towards the hand his holding, head cocking to the side as he inspects it.

"What happened to your hand?"

You freeze. Surely he didn't notice when your old pistol blew up in your hand. He would have been too busy fighting your men. You had to think quick fast.

"I fell into a fire pit during my celebration." You say trying to sound ditsy as possible, yanking your wrist away from him.

Without a word he levers himself off the bar and walks past behind you, noticeably close, his arm skimming past the exposed part of your back making it tighten. You fight back your warrior instinct to react to his touch but you don't want to give yourself away or cause a scene. Instead you look over your shoulder, eyeing him, observing him as he walks towards a booth. You notice him slightly keeling over one side more than the other and his left hand grasping his side where you stabbed him. You smile to yourself, proud of what you did. He drops into the booth ungraciously, banging his hand on table frustrated, causing a few eyes to turn his way.

Boler passes you your drink, a fizzy green concoction, along with an extra glass. You look at him confused.

"For the shiny fella." You continue looking at him just as confused. "I noticed he didn't take his eyes off you as soon as you arrived. I think he was a bit shy. Maybe some liquid courage from a pretty gal might help."

You laughed at Boler's misread of the situation. But you would take any excuse to talk to Din and find information on him.

"Wish me luck." You give Boler the credits, grab the drinks and make your way to the booth.

Avoiding any possibilities of rejection, you sit yourself down in Din's booth opposite him without asking for permission. You place the extra drink down and slide it across the table, taking a sip of your own. Ignoring it, and you, he looks away and surveys the room. It was a small booth so your legs were just shy of each other.

"Don't drink on the job or something?"

"No." Short and curt...

"Looks like you've had a rough day...or week. Just have a sip, take that helmet off, let your hair loose." You remember that not all Mando's are human. "Or tentacles, whatever it is you have under there."

"The helmet doesn't come off." Still not looking at you.

"Why not."

"It is a part of my religion."

You hold yourself from rolling your eyes back into the next sector, keeping your composure and playing the part of a clueless local. You pretended to sigh and lean onto your palm, elbow propped up on the table, other hand circling the rim of your glass. Unable to get his attention, you examine his get up. His armour was recently made, no remarkable dents or scratches in sight. You try to imagine up whatever bounty or mission he had to do in order to get such an abundant amount of beskar.

High risk, high reward. Which meant he was a very capable fighter, maybe even at Bo's level. Only made sense since he held off three of your men.

You could just make out the reflection of your silhouette on his chest plate, still dumbfounded that he lets himself walk around like that. It was as if he wanted to be seen by all, break necks as he entered any room. It felt very contradictory to how the children of the watch preferred to live in secrecy. You almost feel jealous of his armour compared to your ages old one. Your eyes follow up to his helmet, still surveying the room. Like a statue, laying back with his arm propped up on the seat, you could get a more visual on the man behind the metal.

He might not be as towering as Bes, he was still tall enough to be threatening... to others. Broad shoulders, lean looking beneath his undershirt, big hands...

You realise you had been 'examining' long enough and small talk wasn't cutting it. He may be Mandalorian but he was also still a man.

"Must be lonely."

He simply huffs in annoyance in response.

"Not being able to be intimate with others..."

He slowly turns to face you. Head cocked.

"Living a life not knowing what it feels like to be interconnected with one another's body. Feeling each other skin, heat, desperation for one another. Hearing and experiencing each other bring one another to euphoria." You notice just the slightest change in his breathing, slower and deeper. You start rubbing your knee softly against his. "How do you all even procreate..."

He leans forward closer to you, chest plate resting on the edge of the table, his legs grazing along yours. You feel goosebumps crawling up your legs from what you can only assume is repulsion from his touch. You almost lurch back when you feel his thumb rubbing on your exposed knee. How did he so swiftly take his glove off without you realising? Your senses and instincts start popping off but you must stay focused. You are in disguise.

As you hold still, circling your glass, playing along nonchalantly, he speaks low and dark. "The helmet may not be able to come off, but it doesn't mean the rest can't."

Your breath hitches but you keep playing along. "You lot must be ugly wherever you're from if you're keeping those helmets on. Disguising it with religion is an extreme way to hide that. Where are you even from?"

You couldn't help yourself from poking fun at the extremist ways they lived but he probably thought your comment was out of ignorance.

"We are from Mandalore."

"Isn't that a dead planet now? You all must have moved somewhere else?" You say it as ignorantly as possible despite it hurting a little to mention your home planet.

"We are scattered all over the galaxy." He was being coy and losing interest as his thumb on your knee stopped moving, you had to reel him back in.

You slide your hips forward closer to the edge of the seat and resulting in his hand gliding further up your leg. In your desperation, you forgot about your pistol strapped to you and Dins hands bump into it. The stillness of his upper half would have you think he didn't notice it but his hand tracing the outline of the gun says otherwise. Your stomach twisting at the position you have put yourself in, letting your self be caressed by the zealot.

"What do we have here." his husky voice vibrates from the helmet, his hand starts to feel hot to the touch.

"A gift from my father... for my birthday today."

"Right, the celebrations the bartender spoke of. So why aren't you having celebrations today?"

You realise you had messed up your own lie. But not really.

"As I said, I like the atmosphere here and I needed something more calm after spending days partying. I was looking for something more intimate." You bite your lower lip still attempting to seduce him.

You boldly place your exposed leg between his, your sandal ever so slightly touching his crotch. He grips your thigh and lets out a soft chuckle sending a hot, aggravating flush down your body making you squirm a little inside. You were getting flustered and your heavier breathing was making it hard to sit up right as he massaged into your thigh. Gripping both hands on the end of your seat to balance your self, neck sinking into your shoulders as you hold your gaze on him and letting yourself be able to apply more pressure from your foot onto his crotch. Unsure if it was the thickness of his pants but it felt firmer down there.

"So how old are you?" He continues to lower his hand past the gun strap, down your leg until he reaches the crease of your ass. Thumb now circling over the seam of your underwear. You whimper unexpectedly, thwarted by the position you have put yourself in but you hope it sounded more like a moan. You were suppose to be asking him the questions, not the other way around.

"O-old e-enough." You barely breath out

Unmoved, Din stares at you, thumb still circling. You don't know if his eyes are wandering over your body, watching your chest heave up and down or if he is staring straight into your eyes reading your thoughts and knowing it is all an act. You notice that his shoulder are rising and falling heavier as well, seeming as effected as you by your current disposition. It was almost as if both you were trying to anticipate each others next move but not wanting to be the first one to make it.

The tension is broken from a beeping coming from his brace. The heat of his hand falling away from your underwear and gently grabbing your leg and placing it back down on the ground, you watch, lost for words as he puts his glove back on, giving you a moments glance to see his big hand.

Standing up, he gives you a once over. "Happy Birthday mesh'la. Shame I can't celebrate with you."

You are caught by surprise by his use of Mando'a you nearly missed the fact he was leaving.

As he struts off, you find any excuse to keep him here. "I've seen and talked to other Mandalorians!"

You instantly regret your words knowing they could bite you in the ass. He is just stood there, leaning on one leg in your direction, almost as if he wants to go back to you. A few seconds pass before his brace beeps again grabbing his attention. He looks down at it and back to you. It is hard to get a read on what he's thinking but before you know it, he's striding towards the exit, armour giving one last gleam before disappearing in the sunlight.

Stunned by the sudden change of pace, your eyes lock on where he was sat just seconds ago, caressing you... When you finally take a giant breath that you didn't realise you were holding, your whole body shivers, absolute contempt at how low you brought your self. All for nothing! Not even a sliver of information. You feel sticky, hot and a little antsy as if your body is still anticipating something.

Frustrated, you snatch the untouched drink across the table, scull it and throw it at the now empty seat. A few eyes glance your way as you let out a loud huff and the glass falls to the floor.

After getting some composure back, you figure you might as well comm back to report your failed recon.

"Dodac"

"Are you okay, you sound out of breath?" You roll your eyes over his protectiveness coming off more annoying then cute right now.

"I've lost visual on him." No need for the details. "Tell Tiiona and Jak to find him and keep tabs. No engaging. That's an order."

You are reminded of what broke the tension. The beeping of his brace... "I was close enough to hear his brace alert him of something. He may be rendezvousing with someone or he has a possession under threat. See what Tiiona and Jak can find."

"Yes my lady."

You throw your head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. The events buzzing and repeating through your brain, the feeling of his hand ghosting on your leg maintaining your anger. You definitely will not be sharing this desperate attempt at recon to anyone. Ever.

You continue to brew in your frustrations.

"That asshole called me mesh'la."

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