#I had to split this into two parts 'cause this was getting long.

[livwritesstuff]

Today was a bittersweet day – the last day of the three-month parental leave Steve had taken when their daughter Robbie was born before he headed back to his counseling job.

Eddie knows that Steve is feeling torn a few different ways about going back to work.

On the one hand, Steve loves his job, and he’d worked his ass off earning his doctorate so he could be a trauma therapist just like he’d planned. Kids had also been a part of his plan, obviously, but as more of an in addition to type of way, rather than instead of when it came to his career. Eddie knows this, and he knows that Steve is excited to go back, to reconnect with his patients after three months apart.

Eddie also knows that their kids are everything to Steve in a way his job will never be (duh), and Eddie had seen the way Steve refused to ignore the gravity of today – the last day he doesn’t have to share his time with anything other than their daughters.

Steve had been emotional about going back to work in a similar way the first time around with Moe, and he’d called home about eight or nine times during his first day back in the office, asking how things were going and if he’d missed anything. Now, Moe is two-and-a-half (and some change, if they’re being technical), and Robbie just hit the three-month mark a few days ago. This time, Steve had done his best to split his time between their two daughters, and it’s not all that different from their normal day-to-day, honestly, just…something heavier in the air, maybe.

Now, Moe’s all fresh and clean from her bath, her bangs slicked back with the rest of her damp hair (Steve had put on a whole show of planting kisses all over her forehead and saying, “is this where you’ve been hiding your brilliant brain from us?” which always sends Moe into giggling hysterics), and Steve’s got her all bundled up in a big fluffy towel, snuggling her close with one arm as he balances Robbie on his chest with the other, all of them piled into a rocking chair while Eddie sits stretched out on Robbie’s rug.

“I’m probably not gonna be home when you wake up tomorrow morning,” Steve tells Moe, and it’s not the first time he’s brought up this particular subject today, but, y’know…toddlers. Really gotta nail in the point sometimes with toddlers, “‘Cause I’m going back to work, so I have to leave early to drive into Boston.��

“Why do you hafta drive to Boston?” Moe asked.

“Because that’s where my office is. Remember a few weeks ago when we visited my office?”

“Yeah and they met Robbie.”

“That’s right,” Steve nodded, “Everyone I work with met Robbie. I got to take a break from work when Robbie was born, and now it’s time for me to go back.”

Moe’s eyebrows are furrowed.

“But…I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, bug,” he tells her, “I miss you and Robbie and Daddy like crazy when I’m not home with you.”

“So why don’t you take more break?”

“I sorta took all the break I’m allowed to, sweet pea. It’s time for me to go back to work.”

Eddie looks at Moe, sees the cogs turning in her little brain as she tries to figure out a way to convince her dad to stay home with her.

“But what if you just don’t work anymore?”

It’s a good question, Eddie knows, and she’s not the only one asking it.

Not too long after Robbie’s arrival, when Max and El had come to visit and meet the new baby, Max had privately asked Eddie if he thought Steve might throw in the towel on the whole career thing this time around. Again, it’s a fair question for anybody who really knows Steve, anybody who sees how much he loves their kids and how much he loves being a dad, even if Eddie knows the answer is no. Still, it’s a close no.

Steve hums sympathetically, “Maybe someday, but I like my job. I get to help people, and I worked hard in school to be able to do that. Someday you might decide you want to have a job where you do more school and get special degrees.”

“Like what kinds of jobs?”

“Like a doctor or a lawyer, or maybe you want to work in a lab and do research on something. It’s a big world, Moe, and you can do whatever you set your mind to."

"I want to be an astronaut," Moe tells them.

"Well, there you go."

"Or I wanna be a cookie."

"Oh-" Steve's eyebrows furrow as Eddie starts to laugh. "Alright..."

"That's my girl," Eddie says, "Astronaut or pastry. I like it."

[cigarettessmokeandberries]

Fixer Upper Part Three (Melissa Schemmenti x reader)

The day has worn on Y/N and even Melissa has seemed to notice.

A/N: i apologize for any formatting issues

  The most pressing thing Y/n has tried to help Melissa with, is her double classes. Y/n had contacted the school board, spoke with Ava about possible budget changes (though, Melissa would have hated it if that were the case) and even tried to convince an Addington teacher to switch over with the expense of a pay cut (a desperate and last ditch effort) . It seems all avenues Y/n went through, none led to a successful outcome.  

Meanwhile, while Y/n spent her days trying to help Melissa, Melissa now had a new task: finding out if Y/n is scheming something with her niceties. Melissa had grown a liking to Y/n, or rather more of a tolerance to the member of the enthusiast gang. But, that didn’t mean Y/n wouldn’t butter her up for something. Melissa knows it would be nothing malicious, but doesn’t know what she would name it. She almost thinks it could be a “crush,” but only chuckles at the thought.

Walking into the teachers lounge, Melissa notices two things: Y/N looking worse for wear, and a mess of police tape around the coffee machine. Melissa takes her seat, setting her things down on the table.

“What’s up with you?” She throws over her shoulder before turning to face Y/n. Y/n faces Melissa with a sigh.

“End of the year reports,” Y/n says before taking a sip of her coffee- out of a paper cup that looks rather familiar. But, Melissa stares at it only for a moment before speaking.

“I know ya’ have more than a month for that, you gonna tell me or not?” Melissa sighs and waits a moment for anything other than silence. A too long silence passes before Melissa rolls her eyes, turning to her phone.

The lounge remains silent until everyone else piles in a minute later. Janine takes her seat next to Y/n, fixing a smile her way before seeing the defeat in her eyes. “End of the year reports stressing you, too?” Janine questions with a sympathetic nod.

At Janine’s sentence, Melissa turns around, “Yous started those,” Janine looks towards Melissa with raised brows.

“Of course?” Janine replies surprised that not everyone had.

After hearing Janine’s response, Y/n perks up, happy her excuse has defense.

“Yeah,” Y/N comments with a little more confidence. Melissa looks at both women with a confused expression furrowing her brows before deciding her time would be better used for some other meaningless morning task.

---

---

Y/N’s fingers were sore, her brain was fried, and now she had made a mistake she would surely regret by the end of the week. Y/N had talked Ava into splitting Melissa’s double class with another second grade teacher. She knew Amy, said teacher, would soon be marching to her desk with more than a few ugly things to say. Y/N had told a slight lie to Ava, saying Amy was more than willing to take on more students. She nearly got on her knees and begged Ava to switch up the classes, and Ava was surprisingly reluctant. She is slightly convinced Ava only agreed to the switch to teach her a lesson, knowing the other woman also had an inkling of Y/N’s little crush.

Y/N’s head rested in her palms as she leaned her elbows against her desk and a headache brewed. She felt too hot, even in her short sleeves, and she could almost swear her forehead felt a little warm. She hoped she wasn’t getting sick but she knew that the stress was getting to her body. Just as she was ready to face the day, lift her head high, and finish her reports, Amy walked through the office. A nearly audibly groan left Y/N’s lips before she was able to snuff it out.

Amy walked up Y/N’s desk and the next few moments were a barricade of insults and nasty words.

---

---

Y/N’s eyelids felt like weights as her shoulders hunched over her desk completing paper. The last bell of the day rang and all the students rushing out just caused Y/N’s head to pulse more. It felt like someone dropped a paperweight inside her skull as each set of feet hit the ground. She had skipped lunch to nap in her car but yet the headache still prevailed. A sigh of relief left Y/N’s lips as soon as the last of the students made it outside. She rested her head on her forearms and now definitely felt a fever coming on.

A loud familiar voice rings out not more than a few moments later causing another ring to sound through her head. Melissa made her way into the main office, ready to foil whatever plan you had been working on. A twinge of something went through Melissa, one she was sure to ignore now, when she saw the state Y/N was in. To Melissa, the woman looked worse for wear with her tired eyes and slouched shoulders. Melissa was quick, though not too quick she reassured herself, to plant her feet in front of her desk before speaking in a tone she considered gentle.

“You look like the Eagles just lost against the Cowboys,” Melissa’s tone takes on a harsher note at the mention of the Cowboys (don’t mention the Cowboys, Y/N notes even in her sickened state) but nonetheless sounds softer than normal.

Melissa reached over the desk and placed the back of her palm against Y/N’s forehead and was relieved to not feel the warmth of a fever, but that only made her eyebrows furrow. Melissa had no idea why she cared so much at the sickly state Y/N looked in but her heart constricted in her chest at the thought that you were coming down with something. Melissa chalked it up to her appreciation for the speech. However, before Melissa could speak anymore, Ava waltzed out of her office.

“Melissa-” Melissa’s worried brow creased more as Ava told her about her class transfer, especially when told she was sending most of her class to one of the bitchiest teachers , and it finally made some sort of sense. The coffee cup from this morning was now fresh in her mind, but priority number one was whatever the hell was wrong with you right now.

As soon as Ava walked off, an almost scowl painted itself onto Melissa’s face. She wasn’t angry but the conclusion she had reached had her feeling a way she couldn’t describe, so her only option was to block it out. Why was Y/N doing all this for her? And why was it making her feel some kind of way? Melissa did not have the strength to deal with it after thinking all day about what Y/N could want, but she did have the strength to make sure you at least got home okay.

“I don’t know your end game or what you have planned to throw at me, but when I find out-” Melissa stops herself mid-sentence when Y/N looks up at her, her eyes slightly glazed and her face paler than normal and another twinge shoots through her chest. Melissa found it hard to lay out a threat to her. Oh god.

“Come on.” Melissa’s sentence was not a question, it was a command, so quickly Y/N stood up and grabbed her bag, a slight pang going through her head at the same time a flutter echoed in her stomach. Two fools.

---

---

The drive to Y/N’s apart felt longer than it should have. The air in the car felt thick as Melissa focused on the road. For most of the trip, Y/N had been watching the passing of the familiar landmarks but as soon as they passed the coffee shop that Melissa frequented, her attention shifted away as if Melissa could read her mind. Soon, her eyes were drawn to Melissa as she drove. Her hands gripping the wheel lightly as she breathed softly against the heat in car, just now getting warm enough. Her freckled skin, Y/N even found her eyes focused on Melissa’s pores. As if Melissa could feel the heat of Y/N’s gaze, she turned her eyes from the road for a moment to put a question on her face.

Y/N’s mouth would not form any syllables, her tongue weighted down by her nervous thinking. Melissa bit back a smile with a short chuckle before focusing back on the road. The inside of Y/N’s stomach started to somersault.

---

---

“I would say to come in but I think I'll just pass out,” Y/N found her words on the welcome mat in front of her door. When the road marks started to spell home she had left Melissa to her driving while she thought about why she was doing this.

When Y/N had done the good deeds for Melissa it was a pull inside of her. Whenever she would see Melissa stressed or upset, her heart would ache with a pang of guilt. Y/N saw the most in Melissa and to see her suffering, even the tiniest bit, sent a feeling of service through Y/N. All the thoughts she had would wander back to Melissa and how she could rein in her struggles. Her brain could not go a day without fixating on something of Melissa. One day its the accent that drips from her tongue, the next its an eyelash that had the luck to fall on her cheek. How she wishes she could kiss it off and make a wish.

Even now, on her front stoop, Y/N is completely enamored by the way the light has shone Melissa hair auburn. The blue sky outside was a stark contrast to the raging storm inside of Y/N’s head, but even through the thunder of her brain, Melissa found a way through.

“Just get some rest, kid,” Melissa said the word 'kid' as if it didn't send a steel blade through Y/N’s chest. The veil of peace in her mind soon thundered as loud as her headache, shaking until it crumbled right down into her stomach. There was no chance there for Y/N, the fantasy was just that: a fantasy. Melissa had decades on Y/N and Y/N had a broken heart on Melissa.

Y/N’s head nodded mechanically as her mouth struggled to form any more words. ‘I’ll blame the headache’ mantra-ed in her head as Melissa turned to leave.

[ends-of-the-wayward-storm]

Mia's Relationships in TWST—Part 1/2

(Part 2)

I've been seeing people do these things with their MCs, and it looked like fun, so I decided to join in! And I have a bonus closeup of Mia's more-or-less-accurate sprite because I really like the armband I made.✨✨ (Pretend she's got black stud earrings and matching combat boots.) I sort of took this as a general progression of thoughts and opinions amongst everyone and went from there. Mia's pretty much chill with mostly everyone, but she has her moments of not giving a hoot to a select few. I'll be giving some more details on everyone's relationships under the cut, so off we go! (Original chart/template is from here, and the Picrew I used to make Mia's little sprite is here.)

Ramshackle

• Grim: At first, both he and Mia were pretty indifferent towards each other. Mia didn't really have the patience to pay attention to some flaming cat she just met when she had her own problems to deal with, and Grim didn't need some human getting in the way of his plans to become a great mage. But over time, after they got to know each other, they grew to like one another, and now they're pretty good friends. Although he often drives her insane and she can be a "stick in the mud," according to him, I'm sure they'll both defend each other if it comes down to it. (He's literally the only cat she will ever like.)

Heartslabyul

• Riddle: Much like with Grim, Riddle and Mia were kinda neutral towards each other. She simply viewed him as a seriously uptight dorm leader, while he simply saw her as another student who generally abided by the rules despite her being very outspoken towards everyone—including those in authority, so to speak. But eventually they came around to like each other, and now they're casual friends.

• Ace: Mia actually didn't like him at first. He was a jerk in her eyes, so she gave him a piece of her mind whenever he acted like one. Meanwhile, aside from snapping back at her snapping at him, he didn't really pay much attention to her. Eventually they grew to like each other (while bickering the whole time), and now they're pretty close. She arguably views him as one of her best friends, but she won't admit that out loud. And it's the same on his end, too.

• Deuce: Generally, Mia thought he was all right, but not much else. She did come to like him a bit faster than she did with Ace, and now she pretty much considers him her best friend, too. But she won't admit that out loud, either. On Deuce's end, he actually came to like her fairly easily, so it was also kinda easy for him to eventually view her as one of his best friends. Although he lowkey enjoys watching her go off on people who totally deserve it, he and Ace do have to hold her back on occasion. Friends don't let friends get into fights, after all.

• Cater: Yeah, Mia didn't really pay him any mind for a while, but now she generally thinks he's all right. Just a little too obsessed with Magicam for her taste. Cater, meanwhile, easily came to like her, even though she can be a little tense at times. ("C'moooon, ease up a little!" "This is me easing up.")

• Trey: They both came to like each other fairly easily since they're both generally grounded and level-headed. She does like how patient he can be, considering who he has to deal with every day, and he very much appreciates her keeping an eye on Ace and Deuce. So they're currently pretty casual friends.✨✨

Savanaclaw

• Leona: He and Mia were very indifferent towards each other and pretty much let the other be, if they could. Although it took a bit for them to like each other, they're pretty cool with one another now. Leona likes her no-nonsense attitude and respects her completely, and Mia thinks he's all right for a guy who chooses to opt out of things often.

SPOILERS FOR CLOUDCALLING/TAMASHINA MINA EVENT: after they win the tournament, they have an inside joke where they'll call each other by the other's name (Mia'll call Leona by her name and vice versa). They get a kick out of confusing everyone who wasn't part of the tournament gang.

• Jack: I think both of them didn't really think much of the other until maybe Books 2 and 3, more or less. Then they came to like each other before eventually becoming pretty good friends. Both of them do come to secretly view each other as siblings, but neither of them are gonna be admitting that any time soon.

• Ruggie: These two pretty much left each other alone despite suspecting that they should probably keep an eye on one another. Ruggie's a little sneak and Mia can wring people a new one if you try her enough. But eventually they came around to liking each other. Considering his background and her growing up in an orphanage looking out for only herself and her twin brother Marco, they basically have an unspoken "street-ish kids gotta stick together" agreement. (And Ruggie has definitely reminded her of some of the kids she grew up with a handful of times.)

Octavinelle (oh boy)

• Azul: While he came to like Mia fairly quickly in a general sense, she actually didn't really like him at first. He was a sleazy con artist to her, so he definitely saw her rough side pretty early on, especially during Book 3. As time went on, she decided that he was all right and respected his insane intelligence and business knowledge. And eventually, she came to see him as a little more than a casual friend, with Azul also coming to see her as a friend as well. He likes how determines she is to get things done on her own, no matter what, and it's something he can respect. (Sometimes I see them as a joke ship, but I already have her paired with another character of mine.😅)

• Jade and Floyd: Like with Azul, she pretty much disliked them at first since they were in league with him and were basically schemers like he was. The twins liked her pretty early on, however, and they found her entertaining. (They still do.) Eventually she became pretty indifferent towards them with her usual bite having been lessened some time after Book 3, but now she thinks they're all right. Of course, when they find out that she's also a twin, things get a little funner. (Floyd demands a competition for twin dominance.)

Scarabia

• Kalim: Since he's so genuine with his kindness and very open with everyone, Mia generally came to like him pretty easily. And so she currently views him as a casual friend. Of course, Kalim, being how he is, almost immediately viewed her as a friend. And hey, he's heard she likes bird watching, so he could totally invite her over to Scarabia and introduce her to all the birds there. And maybe let them out for a bit so they can stretch their wings. Just don't tell Jamil.

• Jamil: He's the opposite of Kalim and is seemingly calmer than him, so Mia didn't think much of him at first. As for Jamil, he probably didn't think much of her, either, but he had heard about her infamous non-existent filter and putting even Savanaclaw students in line. So those were some pins he put in about Ramshackle's Prefect.

It was probably a little after Book 4 when they started liking each other. And eventually they came to view each other as good friends. I'm pretty sure their bond really strengthened during the NRC group's stay at Ramshackle for VDC, so they had plenty of time to chat and get to know each other more.✨✨

Pomefiore

• Vil: He and Mia didn't really have any problems coming to like each other. She respected his willingness to get his hands dirty to work hard, and Vil liked that she didn't take any nonsense from anyone and was very willing to work hard for what she wanted on her own terms. Probably also like with Jamil during Book 5, they had some time to bond and get to know each other more during his stay at Ramshackle for VDC. Book 6 is probably when they really solidified their friendship and became nice casual friends.

• Epel: Mia actually didn't pay much attention to him since to her, he seemed like just a quiet guy she'd have a few short conversations with. Epel, meanwhile, had heard a lot about her giving people a piece of her mind and occasionally giving a few unlucky students a right hook if they pushed her buttons too much. So he came to like her fairly easily. Of course, once she got to know him, she came to like him a lot. And eventually they became pretty close friends that wouldn't snitch when the other went off—especially when Epel is the one losing his cool.

• Rook: While he almost immediately came to like Mia, she pretty much let him and his eccentricities be for a good while. It probably wasn't until sometime during Book 5 that she came around to liking him. So he's pretty all right in her book now. They probably did get a little closer during Book 6, though.

Ignihyde

• Idia: Yeah, she was very indifferent towards him for a good while. He's extremely introverted, so she pretty much left him to his own devices. It was the same for Idia, too, but he also actively avoided her as much as possible since he was kinda intimidated by her. (He's heard about her attitude. He wasn't about to activate combat mode.) But eventually they came around to liking each other. Mia doesn't mind that he's quiet unless his interests are involved, and whenever they are, she just lets him talk about them nonstop. On Idia's end, he does appreciate that she's one of the few chill people in a sea of extroverts. He's also a little less intimidated by her now, so he's got that going for him. A simple "hey" from her in the hallway doesn't terrify him as much as before.

• Ortho: These two basically came to like each other pretty easily, so it wasn't hard for them to get along and become nice casual friends. She's probably mentioned her brother Marco to him a few times, and Ortho, being as curious as he is, probably asked a lot of questions that she didn't really mind answering.

Diasomnia (:3)

• Malleus: He just randomly showed up outside her dorm one night and just kept popping in at random intervals ever since. It seemed like a hobby for him, so she was pretty indifferent towards him for a bit. Meanwhile, he came to like her fairly easily and was very amused by her rather relaxed demeanor despite the "rumors" he's heard about the Prefect's sharp attitude. The more Mia spoke with him, however, the more she came to like him, and eventually they became pretty good friends. And he has a knack for visiting Ramshackle whenever she's having a restless night due to missing Marco, so she's glad that she can have someone like him to talk to. (But she's not that great with expressing her emotions, so she'll probably have trouble admitting that.)

• Silver: Him and Mia got along pretty easily, so it didn't take too long for them to like each other. Even though he can be pretty rigid, she does eventually come to view him as a really nice friend, and he comes to view her the same as well. (He also picks up that she doesn't express emotions all that well, so I guess that's kind of a thing they have in common, which he appreciates.)

Since one of his lines (I don't remember from which card) mentions the MC having the potential to be good with a sword, Mia does eventually take him up on the offer (maybe after Book 4?) and asks him to teach her. She also likes bird watching, so he does show her some good spots to find birds—unless they come to him first.😂

• Sebek: Boy did they start out rough. Considering his distaste towards humans and Mia having no problem telling jerks off, they really didn't like each other. So there was a good chance they clashed sometimes, probably almost as often as she did with Ace. Eventually, they both decided it wasn't worth wasting their energy arguing and left each other alone for a good while whenever they could. I'm not exactly sure when they start liking each other, but it's probably during Book 7. But after begrudgingly finally getting to know each other, they supposed they could see each other as friends. They both share a determination to see things through, and he will admit that Silver has taught her how to use a sword passably enough. (He could teach her better, though.)

• Lilia: He and Mia actually got along pretty well, so it was easy for them to like each other. He liked her spirit and she thought he was pretty cool, so I think they've had some pretty fun conversations with one another. He does come to see that behind her relaxed demeanor, she can be very guarded towards new people, choosing to entertain light casual conversations and not much else. So he is a little happy to see that over time, she's learned to lower her guard just a bit and be a little more trusting towards people.

(Part 2)

[screampied]

"Just the tip" trope w/ jjk men?👁️👁️

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ JUST THE TIP, GIRL ! ’﹒⺡

ᡣ𐭩 feat. sukuna, choso, nanami, geto, gojo

ᡣ𐭩 total wc. 3.2k

ᡣ𐭩 warnings. fem! reader, mdni, overstim, unprotected, true form sukuna, praise, dirty talk, quickies, dry humping, whiney men, choking, implied breeding, hitting it raw.

࣪. ᨳ GOJO SATORU. ࣪

“princess, you’re killing me,” gojo whimpers, feeling you casually move your hips against him. he’s staring at you, glossed lips just trembling. with two rough hands attached to your waist, he faintly strokes a thumb beneath the fabric that stuck beside your skin. “the tip. please.”

“wait a little,” you hum, making his back hit against the softly padded pillow. gojo grunts, the smooth part of your panties glissading back and forth on his length. his boxers was lazily pulled down, and he was all exposed…all warm. you felt a tiny veiny poke through, skimming against your entrance and you giggle before leaning up close to his ear. “oh sorry, did you say something? i can’t understand when you mumble, baby.”

gojo lightly throws his head back, grabbing a chunk of your ass before his right thigh bounces in utter anticipation. “f-fuck, don’t whisper in my ear like that,” and his voice was so shaky—he starts to pant frantically, just imagining being inside of you again. “you fuckin’ heard me.”

“remember who’s on top of you,” you tease, pressing a kiss near the corner of his mouth. for a split second, you heard gojo gulp, bright blue irises meeting your gaze. now that made him hard. shivers run all over his body the moment he feels you wrap a hand over his shaft, staring to realign yourself. “but fine, lie back…princess.”

soft puffs of breath escape past his mouth as he stares at you, a near smirk stretching against his pink lips. “bratty girl. quit talkin’ ‘n just ride me, how about that.”

“for all i care, you can just get yourself off,” you snicker. after you speak, gojo immediately shuts up the moment his leaky tip just barely hovers beneath your slick entrance.

with a clenched jaw, he presses his lips shut, a soft whine running past his lips to moment you start to jerk. “lot of mouth for how needy you are to be inside, ‘toru.”

“s-shut up,” he grumbles, and it’s cute. the attitude in his voice. the slight rasp to it, even the adorable flush that crept onto both sides of his temples.

gojo craved more, his mouth started to heavily salivate just imagining being inside of you. pumping you full of thick inches for the umpteenth time. “god, i just— i need you. know i said the tip but i just want you.”

you pepper a kiss near the corner of his mouth, and his first reaction was to kiss back ; he misses, making him cause himself to dreadfully whine.

lips forming a sweet desperate ‘o’ he leans back before gripping your hip tightly. you whisper, slowly sinking down into his length. “you can never make up your mind,” you purr, and the silk that ran against your voice.

“say one thing then you want another,” you continue, and he leans into your touch. he grows hard inside you, warmth swallowing you entirely.

gojo’s ears perked at the sound of your voice, the softness air that danced against his earlobe from your breathe.

he couldn’t help but pant, awaiting to have you sunk all the way down to the base. “you keep whinin' everytime i don’t give your lips any attention,” and for a brief moment, gojo’s eyes meet yours again, he feels so hot. you talking to him in such a sweet way like that only makes him feel ten times hotter. “you want a kiss?”

“i … i wanna kiss ‘n pump you full at the same time,” he says in a single breath. the hold you had on him was so heady.

gojo can’t stop himself from feeling all over your body, he felt giddy. in the best way possible. the way your cunt gradually went down on him. you made sure to take your time just to tease him a bit more. gojo’s pout doesn’t take long to make an appearance on him. “just…touch me… just want a taste of my girl while s-she’s on top.”

but the moment you were all the way down…

you felt his dick stretch you out for how many times again, you suppress a moan. leaning in, you squeeze gojo’s lips together playfully—bringing him into a sloppy kiss. his favorite kind of kisses.

the kind where your tongue would slide against his in such a messy way, he’d suck on yours before moaning right into your mouth. a single make out session with gojo was enough to make you pulse through your pulled to the side panties.

“i’m n-not gonna last with you grinding against me like that,” he whimpers, nearly having the wind being snatched out of him the moment you start up a rhythmic grind. “ride me jus’ like that,” he’d pant, and as you tantalizingly ghost a hand up his abs, you intentional make him shudder within your hold.

gojo pauses, grabbing your wrist. with a swift lick of his lips, he uses another hand to spank your ass, another to make your hand wrap around his neck. “choke me. choke me while y-you ride me, baby. please?”

. ᨳ NANAMI KENTO.

“i don’t want you to overwork yourself, sweetheart,” nanami says in a hushed tone. in the midst of you having your hands kneading through flour, you’re bent over the counter.

“have i,” he started, pausing to kiss near your nape. he was so close you felt his bulge prop up against you, “told you,” he halts again, a hand snaking around your waist, “how pretty you look in sundresses?”

“no,” you nearly slip off a moan, trying to avert your gaze back towards the bowl that had your hands covered in dough. his touch felt so good, he was gentle with you. nanami sneaks a kiss near the corner of your neck before you gasp. he pants your legs just a bit before kissing down your back. chastely. “the food, baby.”

nanami huffs, softly ghosting a thumb beside the exposed skin near your back. “you’re an amazing cook sweetheart, but ‘m hungry for something else,” and his words were so warm, smooth and all. the moment he murmurs tender in a soft voice against your ear. it was enough to make you immediately throb. “i want a little of your attention, just…a little.”

“okay,” you mutter, gnawing on the skin of your lip once he hurriedly moves your panties towards the side. a dripping soaked mess, nanami couldn’t help but stare for a bit. he was already insanely hard. his touch, it was so sensually smooth. with a single hand on your hip, you let off a sweetened mewl once you suddenly feel the throbbing tip of nanami’s dick glide against your folds. “k-kento, fuck.”

“missed bein' inside my wife,” he rasps, and he’s so pushed up against you it makes him dizzy. nanami eases his was inside, stretching you gingerly before you left off a sweet whimper. “you always know how to bend over for me like a good girl,” he purrs, bringing another amount of kisses towards the back part of your neck.

his breathing becomes unsteady and irregular, the thin fabric of your sundress, he has a firm grip on it. “was…was gonna give you the tip but i just wanna pump you full, sweetheart,” and you bite your lip, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against your ass. “give you.. a baby or two.”

nanami had you leaning forward, your hands were still in the bowl of ingredients before he hesitates. his voice cracks, pitching high for a concise moment. for the first time, you were hearing a needy nanami. “will you let me stuff you full? tell me in that pretty voice of yours.”

his words, it struck right into your heart and in the process—right between your legs. you felt sticky, a bit moist just from nanami grinding up against you. whenever it came to you, he just couldn’t contain himself.

“y-yes, please kento,” you’d whimper out, feeling two big hands of his caress your ass. he groans, so thick and big…yet so tender with the way he relaxed himself inside. such gummy walls hugging him so tight and close, it makes his jaw tense in a thirsty manner. “just fuck me, baby. i want you so bad.”

“wanted you more,” he whispers. a stroke of his, lightly shoving his hips into you—you gasp, nearly dropping the dishes. “s-sorry, honey. might wanna hold on. ‘s gonna get a bit messy,” and as he says that, a soft chortles flies past his lips. nanami teasingly runs the cold band of his watch down your back, watching you cutely squirm. “but i’ll clean you right up, i love when my sweetheart’s a little nasty.”

ᨳ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

ironically enough, you’d be the one asking sukuna. he’d have the snuggest grin on his lips, buff arms crossed towards his chest whilst you straddled him.

“speak, girl,” and you suddenly grow shy, being propped up on the king's lap. his voice was a deep pitched low, fully stirring you up from the inside. sukuna cups your chin, making it hard for you to avoid his gaze before he murmurs. “tell me what you most desire, little concubine.”

“i want…” you start to speak before trailing off. his gaze, it was never not intimidating. for a split second, you could just about make out a mere small smirk lingering against his lips. sukuna brings a hand toward your waist, softly stroking your skin before you intake a sharp breath. “i want to feel you f-from the inside, ‘kuna. just the tip, please?”

“awwww,” he purrs, and he’s sat manspread. his grip he had on your hip, the way his fingers tenderly strokes beneath the thin straps of your panties. needless to say, it had you soaked.

“just can’t get enough, huh? was last night not enough to satisfy you?” and he takes pride in the pout that goes against your lips. “go ahead then. show me how needy you can be.”

his words had such smugness to it, you whimpered with such exasperation. eagerly springing his length out, not wanting to waste anymore time. sukuna stares at you, a low grunt slithers past his lips before you’re just hovering over his fat tip.

it was glistening with pre-cum, you let off a soft coo, making his tip swipe and smear all over your glistening folds. “s-sukuna, i want you. i want more.”

“greedy girl,” he snickers, and you suddenly felt small. being sat on his lap, his frame was so big. a lot bigger and broader than you. sukuna’s base was hefty, it jolted against his leg the moment you pushed yourself forward. he leans in as if he was about to kiss you. instead, he cups your grin again, multiple eyes staring right into the depths of your soul before whispering out a husky, “no one’s stopping you, princess.”

you moaned, his words was enough to get you dripping like a faucet between your legs—how embarrassing…

within moments, you sink down a bit further, and he’s huge. you feel his dick reach everywhere, such thickness it has your mouth salivating. “f-fuck, ‘kuna,” and his ears perk at the sound of your voice. the bitter sweetness to it. you were always so whiney, growing quiet every few seconds to hear the squelches your pussy made in retaliation. huffing and puffing, your eye-lids grew heavy, he was insanely packed. you felt him everywhere, and once you finally sat down against his base, you pull him into a hug. “so.. so big, stretching me.”

“…oh, don’t tell me that’s all,” sukuna grumbled cheekily, feeling your frame. he creates a fake pout, unreservedly mimicking the pout you had on your own face earlier. “you said just the tip but you can barely handle a few inches, concubine.”

he chuckles darkly, watching your cute face fall. you try to pivot your hips but not even seconds later. you end up making a mess on his lap, bundles of nerves sending you shockwaves. sukuna smiles, bringing a kiss towards the corner of your mouth. “hm. looks like someone needs more training,” and with a sly eyebrow raise, he brings you towards his chest, petting your hair. “if you can barely handle the tip, what makes you think you can handle both of my cocks, princess?”

ᨳ SUGURU GETŌ.

geto would be occupying himself with something, you’re doing nothing but of course—straddling his lap. not a single thought in your mind.

he doesn’t mind it, he enjoys feeling your body all propped up against his. he takes the opportunity to gently snake an arm around your waist, holding you close. although, at this particular point you’d be basically cockwarming him.

“just the tip, you say, suguru,” you utter with a mere hint of sass on your tone. he smiles to himself, your back facing his chest. he’s so warmish, his body heat nearly radiates off of you. skin to skin, it forever felt so intimate. despite the two of you doing nothing but just staying still. “you just wanna fuck me.”

“princess, i wanna hold you and fuck you. ‘s a difference,” and his voice was a bit hoarse—it was unintentionally attractive. he’s sneaking a plethora of kisses down your neck, giving your collarbone a soft suck before he reaches down between your legs. “spread these for me, don’t be shy.”

such thickness to him, it made you swallow, recollecting your thoughts…speaking of thoughts, as mentioned earlier…

your brain was empty. all you could focus on was how stretched you were getting. you were soaking his shaft down to its full supreme—and the last thing you expect is for geto to start rubbing mean circles against your clit. your body’s initial reaction was to lean back against him, and he chuckles, cooing out a, “ooooh.”

“s-suguruuu, fuck,” you’d sniffle, feeling the rotation of his palm creating a circulation motion. he was always so good with his hands. while being stuffed full, he had a free hand maneuvering all sorts of shapes over your folds. “feel so full, jus’ fuck me already.”

“say pretty please ‘n i’ll consider it, baby.”

“you heard what i sai—”

“girl, don’t try me.”

you moan, feeling him spank your cunt at your abrupt sudden brattiness. as your head slumps back against geto, he caresses your entrance before grabbing ahold of your hips. “let’s try this again, yeah?”

through clenched teeth and a cute pout, you huff out a, “…pretty please, suguru.”

he chuckles, and you shudder at the brief sensation of his throbbing mushroom tip just sensually dragging against your core. you gnaw on your lip, digging your nails into the thin fabric of his shorts.

he adores your body language, how adorable—your back arches, and you can barely hold still. all due to his touch, his words, and even the warmth of his breath colliding against your skin.

“good girl. ‘s more like it,” he whispers, and you couldn’t hold in your moans the moment he starts to make you bounce on his cock. you’re a mess, head still leaning back against his cheek, geto faintly wraps a hand around your throat. “should hear how silly you sound for me. whiney girl, fuck…”

and that’s when a hand of his roams up your body, feeling near your chest. he gives your perky nipples a soft pinch and you whine, feeling yourself continue to grow hotter and hotter between your legs. “want attention here too, baby?”

pathetically, you nod, still taking inch after inch inside of your gummy walls. “course ya do,” he teases, sneaking a kiss near the inside of your neck again. “but before we do that,” and you feel your hips come to a terse stop. you pout, feeling two hands of geto’s rapidly stop your hips, and he pulls you closer so he could speak.

with a hand gently caressing near your throat, another prying your legs open for him once more…edging you, he says, “we gotta work on those manners. not gonna let a brat cum on me, sorry princess.”

ᨳ CHOSO KAMO.

“baby,” he says in a sweet, drowsy murmur. choso has you laid flat down. while trailing and skimming a few fingers down your spine—he makes your tummy meekly press right into the cushioned mattress.

“i wanna.. i wanna try something,” and as he’s speaking, you grow quiet, enjoying the hot touch of his fingers. “remember when you asked to see how fast i could last with jus’ the tip in you?”

“mhmm.” you oblige, teasingly hum as a response. you could hear the near shakiness coming from his voice. albeit, you couldn’t particularly see his gaze, but you’d bet money he was just staring right at your body…specifically, from the waist down.

choso kisses his teeth, and you hear a bit of shuffling, “okay. ‘cause, you’re all laid out for me ‘n i just wanna…” he precipitously pauses, feeling you playfully wriggle your ass against him and he groans. “don’t…don’t do that, do tease me.”

“then go ahead, ‘m waiting for you, choso.” you’d titter, awaiting for him to finally come inside—it doesn’t take long.

momentarily, just seconds later…his fat leaky tip was swiftly rubbing against your hole. he starts to pant, long strands of hair running down his back from each particular moment.

he was heavily impatient.

his mind roamed, just a single look at your slick entrance and he’s licking his lips. all he saw was his imagination of loads of his own seed pouring out of your folds.

“nice ‘n warm for me,” he huffs out, clouds of his own breath departing from his lips. choso’s ears, the very tips of them burned with an scorching hot. “always take me so well.”

“f-fuckkk, choso,” you’d gasp, feeling your cunt swallow him easily. he was slow, a single hand attached to your waist.

a soft whimper leaves from choso’s mouth, simply from the way your ass was all pressed up against him. with just a single bit of a hover, he leans forward and he delays his weight just briefly on top of you. “told you, could barely handle just the tip.”

“just lie back ‘n let me give this body the—the attention it deserves,” he grunts, and his stuttering was quite cute.

choso lost all of his composure the moment he was just a few slim inches inside your cunt. squeezing him down so tightly, he watches as his own length gradually disappear between your folds.

“soaking me so good, should be a crime to be this w-wet,” and he nearly finds himself drooling, letting off a cute gasp once he hears that loud squelch. you gripped around him so good, it gave him whiplash … his head spun.

his breathing became erratic, and whenever choso grows out to be excited or far too buoyant than he needed to be, he ends up finishing early. and that’s exactly what he did. a flush goes over his face, as well as with a pout.

“s-shit,” he whimpers, barely even lasting as long as he anticipated. but he couldn’t help it. not with how tightly you maintained a heavy grip on him with your sweetened cunt.

his dick, it had length for sure, and poked against every orifice throughout your sweet cunt.

“wet girl,” he purrs, and starts to ramble to himself, observing his own thick ropes slowly spew outside of you. choso grows curious, using a thumb to swipe some excess of his cum off of your entrance, smearing it against your folds with a weary horny grin before plugging it back in. “my baby’s s-so sloppy.. should pull you close to me ‘n make you taste it.”

[slut4sugu]

just thinking about tattoo artist!katsuki and piercer!kiri w black!fem reader <33

ʚ ❀ ɞ pt.1 . pt.2

✰ tatto artist!katsuki who was finishing up on his break behind the front desk on his phone, when he saw you walk in, the pretty black girl who was gonna take up the rest of his day for a rose tattoo n your upper thigh. “You the 4 o’clock girl?” He asked gruffly, which then led piercer!kiri to come in and scold him. “What he means is, you booked for a thigh tattoo at 4 correct?” You didn’t even have enough time to react to the hot blond behind the front desk who looked like the “fuck around and find out type.” let alone his cute co worker, yet you shyly nodded. “Yeah that’s me, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for me to come.”

✰ piecer!kiri quickly reassures you returning your smile, “no not at all! Right katsuki?” Who stayed silent before getting up, revealing a tattoo sleeve. Which you were too busy staring at to even noticed the split second shared look between the two. ‘Behave, she’s cute’ ‘shut up you think I can’t see that’ Katsuki then headed to his part of the shop walking away saying, “Won’t be trouble long as she’s not squirmy.”

“He’s just a bit grumpy, he doesn’t bite i promise I’ll be here so don’t worry. Names kiri, don’t forget it okay cutie?” The redhead says reassuringly, his wink causing a swarm of butterflies to form in your stomach for a few seconds. If you weren’t certain on what your type was then you definitely were sure now, his flirty and friendly yet dominating personality was doing it for you. 6’3, and cute? You were definitely coming back here again. Not to mention his piercing placement was just cruel. You could tell he had nipple piercing due to the tight fit black compression tee he wore, you wondered for a second what other ones he might have before recollecting yourself. “I-I won’t, and thank you.” You flashed him one for kind smile before walking over past the front desk to the tattoo part of the shop.

Not knowing on your way there kiri was checking out your hips n ass as you walked away, and the faint smell of your strawberry perfume. Though you must’ve been mistaken, you thought you heard a hushed “damn.” As you made your way over to katsuki.

✰ once situated you told katsuki how high you wanted the tattoo he began to work on you. You were scrolling your phone for a little bit before your mind started to wander, you looked down at the blondes face for a few seconds admiring his pretty features dispute the scowl he would constantly have plastered on his face. “See something you like tiny?” He didn’t even look up at you, just smirked ever so slightly making you quickly look away in embarrassment, erking a chuckle out of katsuki.

✰ after 30 minutes of silence he asked you a question, “why would a girl like you want to get such a big tattoo, on ya thigh of all places?” You made a face at him, “the hell you mean a girl like you?” He briefly laughed before clarifying, “exactly what I said, you seem like a good girl so why the tattoo?” Looking up at you from his position, his eyes inquiring yet sharp. You again felt those butterflies as you did before with kiri, before going on to explain how your grandmother had a deep love for flowers but roses were her favorites and when she passed away you wanted to get a tattoo in remembrance of her. While sharing your story behind the tattoo, katsuki began to silently check you out. Your freshly done pink French tips, your pretty brown eyes seemingly shining like stars whenever your gaze met his, and your smile god your smile was adorable.

he was quiet for a moment before saying, “sweet, then speak up and tell me if you want sum changed aight tiny?” You were going to retort back with a petty quip but something told you don’t. Was it the way his voice softened? How you thought you felt a comforting circling of his thumb on your thigh? Or how he looked at you when he said it? You didn’t know but instead you shyly nodded in hummed in response,“ thank you for taking me as a client, I know this is taking a while especially since it’s a big tattoo.”

“Mhm, sure is tiny. be lucky that yer cute.”

“wait what-”

“I didn’t stutter.”

(lmk if y’all want a pt.2 !)

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), cussing (bkg-typical), not many warnings needed for this one chat

words. 1.3k (i had to split it so that the chapter wouldn't be a whole ass novel. also for pacing purposes :0)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 8, part 9

Your eyes lazily trail the movement of the colleague you speak to at most twice a year as they give a presentation up front, the words they’re uttering slowly turning into a slew of blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory like in that TikTok you saw before falling into a fitted sleep the night prior.

Without you noticing, November has finally rolled around, and with it came one of the most important meetings involving Bakugou, Kirishima, and the agency’s department heads aimed at preparing the leaders for the year-end processes and reports.

The very meeting that you find yourself barely getting through at this exact moment.

Tanaka, the said colleague, seems like he’s explaining a pie graph about Dynamight, Red Riot, and their sidekicks’ stats, you think.

You shake your head in an attempt to bring your attention back to what’s in front of you, but your efforts appear to have been in vain as your mind, once again, drifts to the past, and you find yourself mulling over what Mina said two weeks ago.

It’s something that hasn’t left your mind since then, trailing behind you like a damned poltergeist who doesn’t know when to let up.

And as much as you’d hate to admit it, it’s caused considerable confusion on your part, and you don’t like how it may have inadvertently affected how you act around Bakugou, too.

You’re more fidgety, now, and you’ve since beaten your record of how fast you get flustered and stuttery around the man. Although if he’s noticed this humiliating, inexplicable change in your behavior, he isn’t showing it.

At least, not by much.

His gazes have been lingering for a beat too long whenever you stammered your response instead of doing so calmly like you usually do…

“Hey.”

You sit up in sudden attention, dizziness instantly hitting you from having been violently pulled from your reverie. You look at Bakugou, who’s staring you down from the end of the table, and scan the area around him, only to realize that everybody has apparently left, leaving the two of you alone in the conference room.

“Wha—”

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

You feel yourself flush in embarrassment. Guilty.

He shakes his head in what you think is disapproval, stacking the documents in front of him in a neat pile. You take that as a cue to follow suit, gathering your folders in front of you and hurriedly standing up to beeline out of the room.

The last thing you need is for these glass doors to magically lock you in, too.

But you don’t even get to reach the doorway, ass barely lifted a breadth away from your cushy office chair when he speaks up.

“I overheard you in the breakroom.”

You freeze in your tracks, lifting your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Earlier this morning. You said—” he pauses, eyes shifting to your rear, “Sit back down, dumbass. Your knees are gonna kill you if you keep this up.”

You’re about to retort with a comeback when it dawns on you that the guy has a point, so you begrudgingly take a seat.

“As I said,” he shoots you a pointed look, “I overheard you saying you didn’t have plans for next week.”

“Next week?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, yeah,” you absentmindedly scratch your right cheek. “My family will be on vacation and all my close friends have plans with their relatives.”

One of his eyebrows raises in question, “And you won’t be tagging along?”

You shrug, “I don’t want to impose on my friends, and being with my family on a holiday isn’t exactly the most relaxing experience.”

Bakugou merely hums in response, seeming as if he’s pondering something in his head. Unable to sustain his gaze, you opt for looking around the room instead, suddenly finding the plain, gray ceiling wildly interesting.

A few moments pass before you decide that yes, this silence is going to kill you if you don’t get the fuck out now.

You lift yourself from your chair, “Well, I should get go—”

“Come over.”

As if you’re in a slapstick comedy, you, once again, freeze. “W-what?”

He clears his throat, “C-come over, to my parents’. For thanksgiving.”

You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before his eyes gravitate toward your rear again, only this time you plop back down before he can order you to reseat yourself.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow…”

He sighs like he’s teaching you basic ass mathematics and you’re not getting it. “The old hag has been begging me to let them meet you ever since, you know…”

The news of you two “dating” broke out. Right.

You mentally slap yourself for forgetting Bakugou had parents who would eventually also catch wind of your silly little dating scandal.

At the thought of meeting the people who raised Bakugou, your throat suddenly feels a bit too dry. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you manage to get out.

It’s one thing to go and pretend to be Bakugou’s girlfriend in front of the man’s fucking parents, it’s another to do so in this state that you’ve been in ever since that get-together with his friend group. You don’t exactly know why, but you’ve been fundamentally reconfigured since that fated night, and whatever the fuck is causing it, you’re sure won’t mix well with being in the same room as Bakugou’s parents. That, on top of having to act all lovey-dovey with their son around them.

You’re about to defend your case as to why they should just scrap the idea entirely when Bakugou responds.

“It’s either that or she visits us here in the agency.”

Your jaw drops, “Is that a threat?”

He draws his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “It’s an ultimatum.”

“That’s more or less the same thing,” you counter.

“My mom likes to play with the shitty technicalities,” he retaliates, tone abrasive as ever.

You can only gawk at the guy as he shifts in his seat rather quite uncomfortably.

Is he seriously going along with his mom’s wishes now?

What happened to the ever-notorious Bakugou who just goes for what he wants without minding everyone else?

You study the man for a beat, weighing your options in your head. It’s obvious, which of the two is the wiser option. It’s a matter of going for where there are fewer pairs of eyes watching you and Bakugou’s every movement. But the real question is, why do you have to choose in the first place?

“I don’t understand,” you start, “Why can’t you just tell your mom that we’re not ready to do the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing yet?”

“Why don’t you be on the receiving end of her fucking nagging, hah?” he snaps, voice defensive and loud enough to make you jump.

“Okay, okay,” you immediately concede, tone placating, not willing for this to escalate into a fight. The last thing you need is for somebody in the building to overhear you, think you’re having a lovers’ quarrel or whatever the fuck they call it, and run to the media to gush all about it.

You’ve had enough media exposure to last you for a lifetime, thank you very much.

Chancing one last glance at your boss, you find him staring a hole into the pile of papers directly in front of him, a prominent scowl etched on his face.

His mom’s nagging must be weighing him down more than you thought.

As you study the visibly bothered man, you’re acutely aware of all the fight evaporating from your body, and you eventually find yourself slouching in your seat in what you reluctantly identify as defeat.

“…What’s your parents’ address?”

“Don’t bother,” he almost instantly replies. “I’ll pick you up.”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make such a huge difference! have a lovely day ( ˘ ³˘)

[pastorpresent]

insp by this right here, by @septicsoldier13. thank you for the prompt lovely! :))

-

They were short on bills this month.

Logan's shitty job at some scummy bar didn't exactly leave him rolling in cash (not to mention the seventy dollars he was docked for drinking the supply), Wade hadn't made all that much in commission, and Al's disability cheque didn't stretch far.

Rent was covered, so was water and electric, but that left heat unpaid.

Logan figured it wouldn't be a big deal. It was July- and there was a pretty intense heatwave hitting the city currently. They likely wouldn't need the heat for the next month anyway.

The apartment was chilled, but it wasn't cold by any means, which was why he was confused when he got home one evening and Wade was walking around making dinner with a blanket draped over his shoulders, and what looked to be two sweaters on, alongside thick sweatpants.

Logan was sweating just looking at him.

"I know you're pissed I got docked the alcohol money, but aren't you overplaying it a little, bub?"

Wade jumped at his voice, clearly not hearing him enter. The blanket dropped to the kitchen floor, and the merc looked mildly embarrassed.

"I was... cold," he said quietly, and it was... odd. There was no jokes, none of the usual outrageous comebacks, and Wade was just staring at the blanket now crumpled on the floor, almost with a fucking longing expression, and Logan would admit that often the idiots jokes flew right over his head (he wasn't exactly caught up with the last fifty years of media), but he really didn't get this one.

"You were cold? It's not hot in here but it's not cold," Logan pointed out, pretty much over Wade's dramatics.

He'd had a long shift at work, split up about four fights, kicked three people out and chased two couples trying to fuck in the filthy bathroom all between making stupid drinks as his own fingers itched for alcohol.

All to say, he really didn't have the energy for whatever dumb joke this was a part of.

"You're gonna give yourself heatstroke, and you look fucking ridiculous," he deadpanned, and Wade shrugs, doesn't say anything, which makes something heavy settle in Logan's gut.

Whatever, not his problem, right?

He left to go shower.

//

Wade had stripped down into sweats and a single sweater by the time they retire to the couch.

Logan is in his vest and flannel pyjama pants, and he's warm, but he doesn't mention Wade's layers this time.

The TV is on, some shitty episode of some shitty reality show Wade insists he has to watch, and Logan's focusing on it, until he's not.

His attention wanders over to the merc sat on the other end of the couch. It's not uncommon, Logan tends to spend more time watching Wade react to whatever dumb shit is on rather than watch it himself, for reasons he doesn't have the energy to analyse.

Somethings wrong.

Because Wade isn't watching the TV either. His eyes are distant, staring at the floor, and he's shivering violently, teeth practically chattering as he curls in on himself, knees hugged to his chest, and it's like he's...

"You're cold," Logan concludes aloud, but this time the words hold no frustration, because he'd seen Wade be committed to jokes before - but never on this scale. It's not a joke, or some sort of prank at Logan's expense.

Wade nods, and Logan is up and crouching in front of him immediately, sticking a hand against his forehead. Wade practically leans into his body's warmth, shuddering, and jesus christ - the mercs skin is like ice.

"The hell? Are you sick? Can you even get sick?" Logan touched the exposed skin of Wade's wrist, and sure enough - it was freezing.

Wade laughed softly, "I'm always sick, it's just... another side effect," he explained, and it took Logan a minute to recall what the cause of Wade's scars was. The cancer.

"But... your mutation, that stupid programme, I thought it cured you," Logan frowned.

"Not... cured. Just sort of put it on the back burner. It can't kill me, because my body is constantly regenerating the cells it kills, but it's there, and sometimes the symptoms hit a bit harder than usual," Wade explained, looking self conscious, as if this was something Logan would mock him for.

"Why the fuck didn't you say something when we sacrificed the heating this month?"

"We needed it the least-"

"I would've found a fuckin' way if I knew you'd suffer! I'm going straight down there tomorrow, I'll use my tip money to pay it," Logan stated, and Wade's eyes widened.

"No, peanut, you're saving that up for your motorcycle-"

"Fuck that, I'm not having you be uncomfortable in your own home," Logan huffed, "now wait here," he tossed a blanket from the chair over to Wade, then headed to their bedroom.

He headed to Wade's set of drawers first, but pivoted to his own. His hoodies were bigger - more fabric, more warmth, right? Definitely. He didn't just want to see Wade wrapped up in his clothes. That would be fucking dumb, because he wasn't a thirteen year old girl with a school crush.

He grabbed the obnoxiously pink Hello Kitty blanket from their bed too, and then stuck into Al's drawers and grabbed the hot water bottle she used when her back was giving her a hard time. He grabbed one of her heating pads from the medication cupboard too, making a note to buy her some more the next time he did their grocery run.

A few minutes later, items in hand and hot water bottle sufficiently warmed, he reentered the living room.

Wade had the blanket over his lap, but Logan could still see the slight tremble of his shoulders, as much as he was now trying to hide it.

His stomach twisted with guilt for his earlier words.

Logan sat beside him, "lift you're shirt up, just for a minute," he ordered as he opened the heat pad.

"At least buy me dinner first, or I'll kiss and tell. Who am I kidding? If we kiss I'm definitely telling, I'll go on the local news-" Wade's usual tirade of rambling was somewhat comforting, not that Logan would ever tell him that, but even so it's usual flow was lost behind the chattering of teeth.

"Wade," Logan interrupted, trying for exasperated but knowing he probably fell a bit short, "Shirt up, bub," he repeated.

Wade still looked hesitant, staring at him like he'd lost his mind, and Logan sighed, grabbing the hem of the sweater and doing it himself, using his other hand to stick the heat pad on.

"What are you- oh," Wade shivered again, arching his back a little into the heat source.

It only took a second for Logan to reboot his brain, and he quickly dropped Wade's shirt.

"Here," he shoved the hoodie, blanket, and hot water bottle into his lap, and Wade stared at the collection, and the tiny tug of a smile made Logan's heart jump a little in his chest.

"Awh peanut, you're the sweetest," he gushed, and it was supposed to be a tease, he knew that, but there was also something genuine there.

"Just warm yourself up," Logan muttered in response, avoiding his gaze.

He returned back to his seat, occasionally glancing over to Wade. The merc settle back down, both blankets wrapped around him, drowning in Logan's hoodie, the hot water bottle hugged to his chest.

He looked... cute, his nose and eyes visible beneathe the layered cocoon.

Logan did go back to focusing on the show, but he didn't stop his sideways glances, and it didn't take long to notice Wade was still shivering a little.

"Are you still cold?"

"No-"

"Wade," Logan warned, practically growled in his direction, and the younger man sighed.

"It's not... I know I shouldn't be, it's just... weird. It's like it's embedded into my fucking bones, I can't..." Wade trailed off, and he sounded miserable.

"Just come here, you dumbass," Logan said, rushing the words out before he could change his mind.

And if Wade looked at him like he was crazy earlier, now he was regarding him as if he'd grown a second head.

"You've done more than enough, Lo. I just need to get my shit together-"

It wasn't up for debate, and Logan wasn't fucking debating it. He grabbed Wade and yanked him closer, earning a yelp of surprise.

He made quick work of pulling him in close, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and dragging him into his body heat.

"Logan, you really don't need to-"

"Shut up and watch the TV," Logan grumbled, staring pointedly at the screen as to not meet the eyes burning holes into him currently.

Wade did give in eventually. He snuggled down into Logans side, head resting on his shoulder and a sweater-pawed hand coming up to lay on his chest. Logan wrapped an arm around his waist in response, tugging him impossibly closer.

Wade did stop shivering, eventually, and there was a mumbled 'thank you' against his neck.

Logan just squeezed his waist in acknowledgement, and neither made a move to separate.

//

The next time, Logan didn't need Wade to say a damn thing.

It wasn't the bills going unpaid this time, either, because Logan prioritised heat as much as he did the base rent when working out their money these days, and had even spent some of his spare cash on an overly loud but functional portable heater as the weather grew colder.

(Of course Wade's favourite method of warming up remained... him, but Logan really had no qualms with that. He found himself almost a bit jealous when Wade opted for the heater before himself, usually when he was busy, and Logan found himself purposefully dropping whatever he was doing to sit on the couch and drag Wade up against him. He absolutely did not glare at a portable heater, because that would be insane.)

No, this time they'd been invited to a Christmas night out alongside the X-men.

Logan had been reluctant to go, still not all that comfortable seeing the team after previously seeing them all... but Wade had begged, and pleaded, because apparently this was a yearly thing and he'd never been invited before.

That alone had only served to piss Logan off more, but Wade had been so excited - and so he sacrificed their quiet night in for a pub crawl around the city.

He'd already caught Wade shivering a few times in the warmth of their apartment that day, but the merc was quick to deny it, likely thinking (and accurately so) that Logan wasn't going to let him go if he thought he was having a bad day in terms of maintaining his body heat.

He'd watched Wade dress with a frown, "at least stick a shirt on under your sweater. You not got any clean sweats you can wear? Those jeans are too thin," Logan had lectured, and Wade had pouted in that way that typically spelt trouble for the older mutant.

"I don't wanna look stupid! Have you seen what I'm working with here? The least I can do is dress nice," Wade gestured to his face, to his scars, and Logan had to bite his tongue to stop himself from immediately jumping on the defence, because he'd probably call Wade gorgeous or something equally as eyebrow raising in the process.

"Fine, but you bring a jacket," he said, and Wade rolled his eyes but agreed.

They'd been out for a couple of hours. The drinks were flowing (Logan had cut himself off at three beers, which was a personal best), and everything was going... oddly well. Logan felt more at ease around the team than he had since he arrived in this universe, and it was nice.

He was talking to Hank, when Scott came over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Wade's asking for you, Logan," Logan frowned.

Wade had dissapeared a little while ago in order to go dance with Storm, Morph and Jean.

"Where is he?" Logan asked, already on his feet.

"Bathroom. He doesn't look great, dunno if he's had too much to drink," Scott replies, and Logan nods, heavily doubting the explanation.

"Thanks, Scott," he says, before making his way through the crowd and into the bathrooms at the back of the club.

When he enters, Wade is perched against the sinks, shivering violently, his whole body trembling and teeth going so fast he could hear them clinking together. He had his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

"W-won't stop, m' cold," Wade whimpered, the embarrassed flush on his cheeks standing out harshly against his pale palour.

Logan's immediate reaction is one of frustration, "I told you that you needed more layers!"

The scolding only earned a small nod, and a sniffle as Wade looked away.

"I'm sorry, I know. I'm just... gonna go home," he said, pushing up from the sinks to leave, but even his legs were shaking, and when he tried to walk the violent trembles knocked him off balance.

Logan was quick to catch him, wrapping his arms around the merc. Wade leaned into his warmth almost instinctively.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Logan said, but his voice held more concern than anger now, as he steadied Wade on his feet.

He didn't expect the mutant to burst into tears.

Logan didn't do great with tears, especially not when it was somebody he genuinely cared about. He very almost ran out of there, went to grab Jean or Storm or even Hank - anyone who was better at this shit than he was, but he had a feeling Wade wouldn't appreciate anyone seeing him in this state.

Shit, did he even want Logan here right now? He might have asked for him earlier, but he clearly wasn't being much help. He'd made him cry, for fucks sake.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, I know I should've listened I just- I wanted to just feel slightly normal for once," Wade cried harder, and Logan found himself pulling the shaking merc into his arms again, tucking him against his chest.

"I'm not mad, bub. I get it, I do. I'm just worried about you," Logan sighed, and God, Wade really was like a block of ice on his hold.

"'M sorry," Wade hiccuped, and Logan shushed him softly.

"It's fine, honest. Let's get you home and warmed up, hm?" Logan suggested, running his hands over Wade's arms in an effort to ease the chill.

"Yeah," Wade agreed tiredly, and Logan guided him out the bar, giving Jean an excuse of Wade not handling his alcohol too great (which was at least somewhat true, because the merc was definitely teetering into the emotional drunk category if his display in the bathroom was anything to go off) and hailed them a cab home.

He helped Wade to the couch, burying him in blankets and setting up the heater directly in front of him. When he turned to leave, a hand escaped from the mountain of fleece to curl around his wrist.

"Cuddles? Please?"

Logan was surprised he didn't turn into a puddle on the spot. It was fucking ridiculous. If anyone else dared to grab him like that, make such a request with big devastated puppy dog eyes, he would've sliced them into three even pieces.

Wade was making him soft. He didn't feel as repulsed by that thought as he probably should've.

"In a minute, bub. Let me go get you some stuff first, alright?"

Wade nodded, letting go reluctantly.

Logan made quick work of gathering the usual. It had become almost a routine at this point.

He made Wade a hot chocolate too, knowing how much the merc adored the sugary drink. He was only making it to warm him up though, obviously.

When he returned, Wade had burrowed completely beneath the blanket pile, and Logan had to immediately shut down the adorable that his unhelpful, traitorous brain supplied.

He put the hot chocolate on the table, and the smell had Wade popping his head out, staring at the drink.

"You made me hot chocolate?"

"Don't get used to it," Logan replied, and shoved a pair of his own sweatpants and his own hoodie against Wade's chest.

"Get these on."

"These are yours y'know," Wade said, running a hand over the sweatpants.

"Yours are dirty," Logan shrugged.

They were. Apart from a black pair at the bottom of his closet, but Logan was prepared to swear under oath that he'd never seen them before in his life.

Wade made quick work of getting changed. Logan turned to face the wall, and while Wade didn't say anything, Logan could feel the assholes smirk.

Once he was done, Logan joined him on the couch, climbing beneathe the layers of blankets despite the fact that he tended to run pretty hot. He could get closer to Wade this way.

He stuck the heat pad on his neck, the hot water bottle against his stomach (Wade's very own one now, with hello kitty sewn onto the cover - early Christmas gift from Logan) and wrapped him up in his arms, until Wade's entire body weight was resting against him, sprawled against his chest.

"Logan?" Wade asked after a while of silence, the only sound being the TV and humming of the heater.

"Hm?"

"You're the best wolverine," Wade said softly, and Logan glanced down at the merc, snuggled against his chest, eyes half lidded. He'd stopped shivering.

"Only for you, bub," he hummed in response, very almost kissing the top of his head, but settling on running a hand through it instead.

Wade made a happy sound, and Logan was just glad no one was around to see the stupid smile it put on his face.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ELEVEN

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of death, angst, lore!!!, a bit of realizing feelings masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion.

The mystery man was petrifying, what with his grimy smile and darkened eyes burning with a thousand fires that longed for fear and destruction. The mere sight of him had your body freezing, stopping you from walking with Ghost.

Ghost was quick to notice. He paused his steps, halfway turning to you. He took in the sight of you, stiff and paralyzed, before shifting his focus to the cause.

You weren’t sure what was wrong with you. You felt trapped. Under a spell. Even as the man was beginning to disappear into the bustle of people, the smile never vanishing from his face, you were captivated, yet in the most sickening way.

“Dove,” Ghost called out. His voice was rough, and perhaps a bit frantic. “Let’s go.”

Just as you were able to turn your attention back to Ghost, his hand snatched up your arm, pulling you along the curvy paths. His pace was hard to keep up with, and you stumbled for your footing several times, yet he didn’t seem to care.

He had hatred practically oozing out of him like poison. It fermented the air, souring your nose with a sickly pit forming in your stomach.

“Ghost,” you tried. “Ghost, who—goodness, will you slow down? Who was that?”

Ghost paid you no mind. He was blatantly ignoring you, but for what? That man with the wicked smile… did Ghost know him?

Dust kicked up at your feet as your sped walked along his side. His grip never faltered, only tightening every time a shopper passed by too close to you. The muscles in your arm throb, and you could feel the blood pumping.

“Ghost,” you pleaded. Ghost merely glanced at you from the corner of his eye before shaking his head and resuming focus on his mission.

You didn’t know where the two of you were going, or why he was so put-off, but it made sense once you began to approach the clearing where you and the crew split to do your individual purchases.

You were heading back to the ship. The sun wasn’t quite sitting along the horizon, so you weren’t even sure the others had returned.

Something twisted within you, like a knot tightening. That sickly feeling only grew the closer you got to the ship.

Something was terribly wrong. As always, you were left in the dark.

“Up,” Ghost ordered, hands cupped together and lowered to your level. You stared at him as if he’s grown two heads. He grew impatient rather quickly. “I said up, damn it, don’t you listen?”

The plank to walk up to the deck hadn’t been lowered, and that was all because Ghost hadn’t taken the time to do it. He seemed to deem it unnecessary, as now he was attempting to haul you up on to the deck himself.

Reluctantly, you placed a foot into his hands. He immediately grabbed hold, hoisting you with a firm grip on both your foot and calf. You clumsily clawed on to the upper deck of the ship, pulling yourself into standing position on wobbly knees.

Ghost was quick to join, not even breaking a sweat as he grasped the sides of the deck and joined you, only letting out an annoyed grunt as his form of struggle.

"Get into Price's quarters," he commanded, lightly giving a shove to your shoulder to beckon you to the Captain's doors.

His body was stiff, standing monstrous and frightening over you. The only other time you'd seem him so coiled up was when him and the others slaughtered your town, when he appeared from the shadows like the boogeyman and sucked up all the souls of the village.

When you looked into his eyes, they were as pitch black as the night. You could hardly see the whites in them from how much anger pooled over.

This wasn't the man who had slowly but surely made attempts to open up in his own way.

Opening up is an overreaction, but it was his way.

Slow and steady.

Now, he was back to his former shell, the one you feared meeting again since the very first day you met.

You were quick to scramble to Price's quarters, slamming the door behind you. The air was eerily quiet now that you were alone, and it prick your ears like an aggravating fly buzzing at your head.

Fear crept inside of you like an incoming storm.

To see Ghost so serious when the past few interactions, he's been rather pleasant was worrying. He didn't answer your questions, nor did he seem to want to acknowledge them.

You knew it had to do with the man you saw. All mighty and erotic, with the smile of a demon. It'd be something that would surely haunt you in your nightmares.

Something about him was odd. You couldn't pinpoint it. It wasn't only the creepiness he exuded, but rather the way he appeared. Out of thin air, like a ghost. And he spoke to you.

I'll be seeing you, dove.

Your blood ran cold as you played back his voice, over and over. Taunting. Mocking. Yet, hypnotizing.

What was a boisterous day with you leaving the ship and becoming apart of the people of normalcy was stripped from you once again.

The only thing that broke the deafening silence was the distinct sound of a bell, the piercing ringing traveling through the cracks in the wood and filling the air around you.

It was Ghost. And he was alerting the Captain that something truly was terribly wrong.

For a while, it was radio silence. Ghost remained outside, while you stayed locked into Price’s quarters, forced to remain trapped in your mind, sifting through what could possibly be happening.

You tried to connect dots. It was clear to you the man you saw wasn’t of the normal crowd. He was an oddity, something that stuck out yet wanted to be hidden.

Ghost knew him. His instinct reaction was to flee, bringing you in the mess. Sure, the man was unsettling, but what about him had Ghost of all people running?

Or perhaps he fled because he wanted to protect you. Even thinking of that scenario filled you with doubt, because it didn’t seem like a him thing to do, but you couldn’t think of any other reason why he’d drag you along the way he did. Frantic, and angry.

It didn’t matter how confusing the bigger picture was. Ghost had a well enough reaction for you to assume that whoever you saw was dangerous.

You wanted to rip your hair out from how little you knew. The Captain held you back from finding out, yet now, it felt important to know more than ever.

Damn him.

Damn this ship.

Damn being left in the dark.

It was unfair. You feared for your life. And worst of all, you feared for their lives as well.

You wondered if they felt the same. As ridiculous as the feeling was, in this time of terror and uncertainty, you wondered if things were to go down, if you were to fall trap into something you’re not supposed to, if they would care enough to pull you out themselves.

Stupid.

Just as you got too wrapped up in your own negativity, you heard voices outside the door. Familiar ones, and they sounded serious.

Between the cracks of the wood and the little soundproof the walls offered, you could faintly hear it.

“It was Graves. I swear it, Cap.”

Ghost. His voice was no longer littered with shock and panic. It was lower, laced with venomous anger.

Graves? You’d never heard that name before, and you could only assume it was the man you saw before. The name was rather fitting. Riddled with something ominous.

The door to the quarters barged open, slamming against the wall. In front stood the Captain, hand still firmly pressed to the door, eyes quickly darting around the room until they landed on you.

“Dove,” Price breathed.

He hurried up to you before you could give it a second thought. His hands grasped everywhere he could, pulling your arms straight out to inspect them, rough fingertips running along your skin. Then they moved to your neck, tilting your head side to side.

His eyebrows were knitted together with concern as well as concentration. But his eyes spoke for themselves. Enraged, just as Ghost. Burning embers broiling into a forest fire.

“Are ye okay, dove?” Soap asked. When you looked at him, he was standing cautiously behind the Captain, eyes flickering over your exposed skin as Price studied it.

“Yes?” you replied, unsure. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Price paused, glancing up at you. He seemed to realize something before dropping your arms, letting them fall back to your side.

“Price?” you asked. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“It’s nothin’,” he grunted, looking away. He stepped away from you, clearing his throat. “We heard the bell. Thought somethin’ happened—”

“No,” you cut him off firmly. You were growing tired of the games, tired of the tiptoeing. Even now, when they thought you were in danger, or even hurt, Price was actively trying to avoid telling you the truth. “There’s more. You’re lying to me again.”

“Dove—” Price attempted.

“Who is Graves?” you ordered. “I saw him. Earlier, in the town. He whispered to me. Who is he, Price?”

Soap and Gaz shared a look of concern before glancing over at Ghost. Ghost shifted uncomfortably, avoiding their gazes.

You hated this. You knew something was wrong, and all of it ended back to Ghost. It was him, wasn’t it? He was the one causing this distress without realizing. He was the one being distressed.

“You asked if I would trust you, and I agreed,” you continued, staring down the Captain. He was stiff, unsure of his next move. His eyes bore into you. “But you are toying with me and I will have it no longer. This is not trust. If you do not tell me what’s been going on, I will leave the ship and you will never see me again. None of you will stop me.”

Your words seemed to hurt the people you weren’t intending on hurting.

Soap’s eyes told you everything you needed to know, brimming over with surprise from your boldness and an aching sadness from your reality.

Gaz was glaring daggers into the back of the Captain’s head, more frustrated than upset.

“Just tell her, will you?” Gaz said coldly. “You’re playin’ hopscotch with her feelings. Both of you. She deserves to know.”

Your eyes flickered over to Ghost, who winced at the comment. He was just as fault for hiding the truth as Price was. All of them were. But at least Gaz was sticking up for you in the end of it.

“That’s Ghost’s decision,” Price grumbled, scowling.

“Bullshit,” Gaz retorted. “It stopped bein’ his decision when we became a crew. She’s apart of it now, whether any of us wanted that or not. For God’s sake, tell her.”

“And risk puttin’ her in danger? You want that?” Price hissed, anger bubbling more rapidly.

Gaz sneered at Price, matching his emotions. He stepped up to him, pressing an accusing finger into the Captain’s chest. “She saw him. He spoke to her. That’s enough to assume she already is.”

“Danger?” you asked. The two of them whipped their heads in your direction, realizing their mistake.

Your fear from before returned tenfold. Your life seemed like it was bound to an unbreakable contract of deception and betrayal.

“What did he tell ye, dove?” Soap asked, breaking the tense silence that filled the air. “Word for word.”

You wrung your hands together anxiously, picking at the skin around your nails. All men held a different form of expression in their eyes, yet they all held their breath all the same.

“He said he’d be seeing me,” you explained, a tight knot in your throat. “He didn’t exactly… tell me, I mean, I was with Ghost the whole time. It was more like a whisper. From afar.”

The looks on their faces had you wanting to coil back into your skin. It was looks of perplexity, of realization, of worry. You had nothing to be worried about, right?

“What the hell does he mean by that?” Ghost roared, the tension in the room thickening. He seemed visibly angry, even under his mask. His body language was surely enough to read. “What, he’s goin’ after her now?”

“What?” you breathed, hands becoming clammy. “Who?”

“Graves, damn it,” Ghost hissed, shoulders tightening. His voice was rough, spitting out pure venom. “The black blood? The mask? The skulls? All him, dove.”

“I don’t understand,” you whispered. Your head felt like it was going to explode. They were explaining, but not getting anywhere with it. None of it made sense.

“He’s Ghost’s old captain before he found Price,” Soap explained, a sadness to his tone. His expression was solemn as he looked at Ghost. “He has Ghost on a leash. Even now.”

“A leash,” Ghost laughed mockingly, sharp and bitter. “That fuckin’ traitor has me marked. That’s worse than a damn leash.”

Soap winced, appearing guilty for even mentioning it. Yet, Ghost was so occupied in his own misfortunes that he failed to notice.

You stared at Ghost while he spoke. The skull mask stood steady on his face, hiding how he truly felt beneath. His eyes were a world of hurt, giving you the only gateway into his mind.

You weren’t sure what marked had to do with him, but judging from old tales you’d heard as a kid, you knew it wasn’t good.

He was a target. Whoever Graves was, his old captain, he had a vendetta against Ghost. Now that the old can of worms was opened, part of you wanted to shut it back up.

This is what you asked for. You wanted open honesty. You just didn’t know that learning about the very men who changed your life for better and worse would hurt so dearly.

“Marked?” you asked. The skull ring on his finger glinted tauntingly at you. “What do you mean, marked? How does that explain anything?”

Ghost went silent, as did the men beside him.

Price, calmer now and looking much more defeated than anything, gave you a sad smile. “He has the marking for the curse of death, dove,” he said quietly. “We can only hope that you don’t, too.”

a/n: a bit shorter than i’d like, but i have some things going on. i hope you enjoyed regardless and as always i’d love to hear your theories!!!

[hunnidmilly]

Hi baby! I loveee your writing! I saw you asked for ideas. Can you do inexperienced reader and Roman teaching her how to take the d?

nice & slow — r.r +millytober+

parings: roman reigns x early 20s black!reader

kink: inexperienced kink. (?)

—

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, inexperienced ≠ virgin, crying, roman being gentle, pet names (18+ MDNI)

“you ready, baby girl?”

your body shuddered under him. your hands clasped together above your head, making sure he had full view of your face— currently filled with fear.

you weren’t the most experienced with sex. with only two previous sexual partners ruining it for everyone. only fucking until they got theirs and leaving you empty handed. you thought, if this is what sex was? you wanted no parts. you wanted to feel good too, and when roman learned your wish, he made it his goal to show you.

you were in your early 20s and the man being near 40; he was so much more experienced than you knew. he’d fuck plenty of pussy before, had numerous adventures with them, even flew a few out for a good time with their homegirls.

but none met more to him right now than you.

“i—i’m nervous, ro.” you squeaked out in a small voice staring into his eyes, adorned with passion “i know it’ll feel good, but you’re just so b—“

“we’re gonna go real gentle, with you alright? you gotta stay with me. m’kay, baby girl?”

you nodded, as he rubbed his dick through your crying folds. the fat mushroomed tip rubbing against your clit. you jolt at the contact and let out a small moan. roman, by any chance wasn’t small—his long, thick, dick splitting your opening wide instantly. he grunted and continued to push; you clamped down onto him as tears prickled your eyes. luckily, he stops once he’s halfway inside, allowing you to prepare yourself for the rest of the length.

he leaned down to kiss away your tears, “lift your legs around my waist, there you go…good girl. open up for me.”

he grunted and pushed through, stretching you open bit by bit; making you gasp at each sudden movement. he wiggled his hips around, helping you get used to his size and pressing further into you. his tip inches away from bottoming out.

“look at you, baby. so fuckin’ pretty & perfect. you can take it, can’t you? my baby can take it.”

he whispered into your ear, before taking the lobe into his mouth. he began to slowly fuck into you. your pussy tightly clamping around his dick and leaking onto the bed sheets. roman could feel your pussy start to mold to his dick, almost like a blanket tightly wrapped around a body.

you let out a whine as you locked your legs around his lower back to signal him that you were ready for more. tears formed in your eyes for a different reason now.

“fuckk, ro—please, fuck me.” you whimpered out thrusting your hips to completely impale yourself onto his dick.

he let out a laugh before letting go of your hands and moving them under your ass to pull your lower body closer, “don’t hold your breath, hike your knees up a bit…push your hips towards mines.” he coached your every move, determined to make this everything you wanted.

his pace quicken, his dick pumping you full force causing your boobs to bounce. his eyes firmly planted on them, before taking one in his mouth.

he pressed his dick deeper inside you, as he felt himself twitch as you fluttered around him. your pussy was warm; it felt like heaven to be inside of. he was nearly losing his mind at the sight of your fucked out face looking at him with such satisfaction. the more he coached you through the experience, the more he wanted to see how far he could go.

you trusted him with your pleasure, a gift he’d treasure forever.

“ughn! right there, please don’t stop, roman! ohh god!” you moaned out into his ear, the sound of your toes popping sounding like firecrackers in the room

“you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. i love this pussy. i’m not stopping till you cum on it. my girl wanna cum? hm?”

unable to form another sentence, you just nodded turning your head into the pillow and feeding it your loud moans, as he roughly fucked. the bed began to hardly knock against the wall as his thrust becoming deeper and harder; the bed springs squeaking beneath you.

you slipped your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit harshly, and it only takes a few touches to have you cumming around him. your ear immediately going deaf at the force from it and your eyes rolling into your head. you squeezed his dick, causing him to growl and your loud cries to fill the room.

“let it out, sweetheart. you did so good, for me. bring your knees to your chest baby, atta girl.” you bring your legs firmly together raising them to your chest, “good girl…keep cummin’ for me, pretty girl. get it all out. that feel good?”

his hips snapped against your ass to chase his own orgasm. with a few more sharp thrust his cum shot out in thick pools into you.

“r—roman. i feel like im gonna p—“ you hiccuped as the sensation triggered you to squirt over his dick, bringing you to your 2nd orgasm of the night.

the sight was mesmerizing; his chest harshly heaving up and down, his head thrown back, and his dick plugging his cum into you making sure nothing spills out.

“you did so good, baby girl. c’mere.” he spread your legs apart leaning down to embrace you into a bear hug and rain kisses across your face

you slipped your tongue into his mouth, hoping you convey how grateful you are for him.

🏷️: @msbigredmachine @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @caramelcleopatraa @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @queeny23

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make sure to reblog, comment, and follow! <3

[gatorbites-imagines]

Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

[space-cowgirllll]

Crush

a/n: soft jackson ellie ily.

not proofread, if you see any mistakes look away lol.

She couldn't stop staring. Sitting on a cold bench in front of Jackson's little schoolhouse, she hides behind the astronomy book she'd recently found while out on patrol. Frozen fingers flip to the next page every couple of seconds, far too fast to actually retain any information. She watches you lead Joel to a particular part of the fence that has clearly seen better days. The wood is rotting and splitting apart in certain spots. No longer safe for the children who play nearby. You nudge the post with the toe of your boot, eyes widening when it topples over. 

Her eyes follow the curve of your neck as you throw your head back, laughing at something Tommy said. Your smile lights up your entire face, sending a flutter of giddiness through her body, almost as if it had been directed at her. She bites her lip, averting her eyes when you crouch down to inspect the damage. Where you found jeans that fit you like that in times like these she'd like to know. One more quick glance and she contemplates walking away, leaving Joel to get dinner by himself.

"What are we looking at?" A familiar voice whispers behind her, causing her to almost drop her book. She clutches it to her chest.

"Nothing!" She whips her head around to find Jesse and Dina behind her. The pair plop down on either side of her watching while the two men try to make the broken piece work until Joel can come back and replace it later. You stand off to the side chatting, not wanting to get in their way. Ellie marvels at how pretty you look under the street lights. Your hair a messy halo of waves, making you look angelic. 

"So," Jesse knocks his knee against hers "Are you ever gonna actually talk to her?"

"I talk to her!" Ellie scowls. "She comes over to Joel's for dinner once a week."

"Oh, we know." He interrupts "We've been invited."

"It was brutal."  Dina winces. 

The couple quietly tease Ellie, reminiscing over that night a few months ago. She had begged them to come and serve as a buffer between you and her. They spent the whole night watching Ellie try and fail to not make a complete fool of herself. Stumbling over her words and cracking lame jokes that left her screaming into her pillow later that night in embarrassment. Jesse's foot kicking her under the table when she stared for too long. Ellie listens with a pout on her face. 

"You guys are the worst." She groans. Her eyes travel back to where you stand, widening a little when she sees you already staring. There's a tiny smile playing on the edge of your lips. Heat rises to her cheeks when you send her a little wave. Sorry, you mouth, gesturing to Joel and Tommy.

Dina's giggle seems to catch your attention. You shift from Ellie's flushed face to the brunette beside her. The two of you share a look, seemingly having a conversation with just your eyes. There's a sly smirk on your face when you finally look away. Her brows furrow in confusion. In that moment, Ellie wishes she spoke girl better. 

"You know what? Surprisingly, I think she might like you too." Her best friend pats her thigh as she stands. "Do something about it before she finds someone else who will actually make a move." 

She grabs a confused Jesse by the hand, leading him in the direction of her house. The two whispering as they go. 

Ellie digs the heel of her sneaker into the ground, the thin layer of snow crunching underneath her foot. Most of the people in her life knew about her little crush. The way she offers to take your patrol shifts if it was too cold. Always on the lookout for things that would brighten up your small classroom. Volunteering when you ask for help with random little tasks during town meetings. She isn't as subtle as she thought. There's no way you don't know she's spent the past year and a half pining after you and haven't said anything. 

Not only is she ridiculously awkward, Ellie speculates your disinterest also comes from the three year age gap between you two. At twenty four, you probably see her as a little girl with a crush. 

She can see how much you enjoy spending time with Joel, especially after your grandfather's passing. She would hate to ruin that for you. It's better for everyone if she keeps her mouth shut.

____

It isn't until a week later that Ellie sees you again. She's shirtless in the middle of her makeshift home in the garage just feet behind Joel's house. There's a small pile of discarded tops sitting at the foot of her bed. She huffs, trying to find one that nice enough, but doesn't make it look like she tried too hard.

You stopped by the stables in the morning, making plans with Joel for dinner and a game of poker. Ellie hid behind Shimmer, trying to think of a way to get out of tonight when a look from Joel told her she had no choice. She fumbles with the last couple of buttons on the flannel, too lost in thought to hear the sound of the door opening. 

"Ellie, food's read- oh!" 

"Shit!" She spins around to find you standing in the doorway, eyes fixed on her panicked face as she pops the last button open. Ellie shoves her arms into the sleeves of the maroon flannel she'd borrowed from Dina, knowing it probably matched the color of her flushed cheeks. At least she'd thought to put on a bra.

"In my defense, I knocked twice." You state as you slowly make your way around the room, pausing to inspect the posters hung on her walls. She watches you pick up the comic she'd thrown on the coffee table earlier. Your eyes light up in recognition. "Oh hey! My grandpa used to read these to me. I think I have some you're missing if you ever wanna see them." 

Her breath catches in her throat at the prospect of spending more time with you. "Really?" She grins. "I'd like that."

You nod, walking slowly towards her. Your footsteps loud in the quiet room. Ellie watches the way your piercing gaze roams her face, slipping to her exposed torso for just a second before locking eyes with her. She hopes you didn't hear the embarrassing way her breath hitches when you replace her clumsy fingers with yours. Ellie basks in the warmth radiating from your body as you button up her shirt, your warm breath hitting her temple. 

"Cute." You smirk looking down at her. "Really makes your eyes pop." Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, you step back towards the door. "Don't make us wait too long."

Ellie stands frozen, heart pounding in her chest, listening to your retreating footsteps wondering what the hell just happened.  ——

After another slightly awkward dinner, she was shocked when you showed up at her doorstep again that night, this time waiting until she opened the door. Giving her a shy smile, you'd held out a box full of old comics, letting her know there was no rush on returning them. Ellie still remembers the grin that bloomed on your face when she'd invited you in. 

The two of you rarely left each other's side after that. Your friendship blossoming in the months that followed. It helped that you liked to talk and Ellie liked to listen to you talk. Most nights were spent together, either at your place or hers. She loved it when you read to her while she drew in her sketchbook. Some nights she would attempt to teach you how to play some of her favorite video games, enjoying how cute you looked when you were pouting after losing to her. The two of you had even started growing a dvd collection, always fighting over what movie to watch (she let you win almost every time.) 

She couldn't believe how quickly you'd become such a big part of her life. Ellie still had the urge to pinch herself on the mornings when she'd wake up to you sleeping soundly next to her. And on the nights where she'd stay awake, late into the early hours of the morning, memorizing every inch of your face, the magnitude of her feelings for you scared her. She'd do anything for you. 

Which is how she finds herself standing in the corner of the room nursing a drink, doing what she does best - watching you. You've been looking forward to the winter dance for weeks, begging Ellie to come with. The sweet look on your face when she walked through the door sent a rush of excitement through her.

You stay by her side all night until one of your friends pulls  you to the makeshift dance floor, managing to get Ellie out for one song before she quickly retreats back to where she was despite your protests. You're glowing under the twinkling lights, dancing and singing your way around the room. The navy blue sweater she'd gifted you for Christmas last month fits you like a glove.

"So where's your girl?" She looks up to find Jesse standing there, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat from dancing. Dina's laugh sounds off from somewhere behind him.

Ellie chokes on her drink "She's not my girl." She says through a nervous chuckle. 

"You mean to tell me you follow her around like a lost puppy and you'll sleep in her bed but you won't tell her how you feel?" 

She shifts nervously from one foot to the other. "We're just friends. I sleep over at Dina's all the time."

"You don't look at Dina the way you look at her." He sighs looking out at the crowd of dancing people. "All I'm saying is it's only gonna get worse the longer you ignore it. Are you prepared to be her friend while she dates someone else?"

Ellie's eyes follow to where he's currently staring. Bile rises in her throat as she watches you dance with someone else. Twirling around with another woman, her hands where Ellie's had been just minutes before. Her hand grows clammy around the glass. The blonde kisses you. Her lips far too close to your mouth for it to be friendly. Before she knows it, she's pushing past her friend and rushing out the door. 

The chilly January wind bites at her face as soon as she steps outside. Blood rushes in her ears as she quickly walks back towards her house. She's mad. Mad at Jesse for being right. You for leaving her standing there alone. But mostly she's mad at herself. What had she been thinking? That she would just get to know you more and not fall even further? Her cold palms press into her eyes, trying to alleviate the stinging sensation. This crush was going to ruin her. 

She stops just feet from her door, digging into her pocket for her key. Footsteps that are not her own pound on the snowy pavement behind her. "Ellie!" 

Her eyes squeeze shut, regretting not walking faster. She wants nothing more than to freak out while buried underneath her covers. For the first time ever she doesn't want to see you. 

Your hand grips her bicep, spinning her around to face you. "Els what's wrong?" 

"Nothing 'm jus tired." She mumbles shrugging you off and taking a step back. Your lips pull down into a frown at her actions. 

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have come back together."

She scoffs. "You seemed a little busy. Didn't wanna bother you." 

"Ellie-"

"Caroline's great." She interrupts. "Word around town is she has quite the crush on you. If you wanna go back don't let me stop you."

"Oh my god shut up." In the blink of an eye she find herself up against the wall, your body caging her in. Your hands fly to the back of her head, fingers tangling in the short strands of her newly cut hair. You tug gently, forcing her to look up at you.

"She kissed you." Ellie whispers looking like a kicked puppy. 

"And if you had stayed long enough you would have seen me brush her off." You cup her face, slowly dragging your thumbs across her cheeks in a soothing manner. The tenderness in your eyes will forever be ingrained in her mind. "There's only one person I want to spend my night with and she's right here."

"Really?" You nod, brushing the tips of your noses together.

"I don't want to be just your friend Ellie," You whisper against her lips, your breaths mingling together. Her ears ring at your confession, and she hopes you can't hear the way her heart is pounding. "and I know you don't either. I've been waiting for you to make the first move, but I'm real tired of being patient baby." 

Your lips press against hers in a soft kiss. It's hesitant at first, giving her the option to pull away. You see her eyes flutter shut, shaky hands wrapping around your neck. She whines quietly, wanting more. Her fingers slip down and hook onto your belt loops, pulling you in and deepening the kiss. Your tongue is soft and warm in her mouth, sliding against hers as you press her further into the wall. She shivers when your cold hands caress the warm skin of her lower back. 

Ellie's head goes fuzzy at the feeling of your thigh slotting in between her legs. Her hips seem to have a mind of their own as she slowly rocks back and forth on it, the seam of her jeans giving just enough friction to provide some relief. 

Her soft mewls and the wet sounds of your mouths fill the air. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realizes you two are still outside, where anyone walking by can see. You need to go inside. She just can't find it in her to care at the moment. 

Hands slide from their place on your hips to cup your ass, squeezing harshly, drawing a groan from you. "Hmm. Do you wanna know how many times I've caught you staring at it?" You ask as your mouth pulls back to kiss down the column of her throat. Teeth nipping the soft skin there. Ellie laughs breathlessly in response, somewhat lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. The dazed look in her eyes sends a jolt of heat through you. 

"Ellie?"

The two of you rip apart at the sound of Joel's voice. He stands just outside of his back door, the concerned look on his face vanishes when he spots you and Ellie off to the side of the garage. 

"You two alright out there?" 

You want to laugh at the clear discomfort and amusement in his voice. "Fine Joel, just walking her home."

"Uh huh." He doesn't sound convinced. "Well, best get inside before the snow picks up."

"Right. Good night!" 

Ellie rushes to unlock the door, pulling you in and slamming the door shut. 

"How did you know?" She asks, playing nervously with her fingers. Her freckled face deliciously flushed. A love bite peeking through the collar of her hoodie. 

"You weren't good at hiding it. I had my suspicions." you giggle, intertwining your fingers with hers. "Dina also might have put in a good word. Said I would love you if I just got to know you better."

"And?"

"She was right."

[futurewdclandonorris]

Read to me. | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: after a hard day, Lando knows he can always turn to you for some comfort... And then give something in return

Warnings: fluff with smut hehe

A/N: I tried writing pure fluff and failed. I split it into two though and put another divider so you can finish with the fluff part without having to read the smut if you don't want to :)

The sun had already set when Lando returned home from his day out working with sponsors. He opened the door of your shared bedroom, finding you already in your pajamas, absorbed in a book. Smiling a little, he leaned against the door frame silently watching you, exhaustion thick on his face.

"Hey, baby," you finally took notice of him, glancing up and putting the book down for a moment to softly greet him.

"Hey," he slowly made his way towards the bed, crawling until he snuggled into your lap.

"Long day?" one of your hands immediately tangled into his curls, beginning to massage his scalp. He closed his eyes, groaning in satisfaction.

"You've no idea." he mumbled, relaxing under your touch.

As he rested in your lap, you couldn't help but notice how worn out he looked and it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders the moment he sank into your embrace. You kept working your fingers through his hair, feeling the muscles in his body become increasingly relaxed with each stroke.

"Want to talk about it?" you asked gently, knowing how much he tended to keep to himself when it came to work. He shook his head, burrowing deeper into your lap.

"Not really," he sighed. "Just a lot of meetings, a lot of people trying to get a piece of me. It gets exhausting after a while."

You nodded in understanding, continuing to run your fingers through his locks. The room fell silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle as you adjusted your position. It was a comfortable silence, one that only came with the familiarity of years spent together.

"How was your day?" you smiled at the question, knowing that Lando always made an effort to ask about you no matter how tired he was.

"It was good," you replied, thinking back to the meetings you had and the progress you made on your latest project. "Productive, but not as eventful as yours."

Lando chuckled, his breath tickling your stomach. "I'll take boring over exhausting any day," he said, his eyes still closed.

The two of you sat in quiet once more - you continuing to read your book and Lando finding interest in his phone - enjoying the comfort of each other's company. Eventually, Lando put his phone down and nestled himself between your legs, his head on your lower abdomen.

"Could you read to me?" he asked, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. It wasn't unusual question. He often asked you to do so or just talk to him in general cause he loved falling asleep to the sound of your voice.

"Of course." you smiled softly at him, running your hand through his hair once more before grabbing your book and flipping to the page you left off on.

When you began to read, Lando closed his eyes and listened intently to your tone. It was soothing and calming, and he found himself slipping into a peaceful state. He loved how your voice gently lilted up and down, as if the words you read were a lullaby meant only for him.

As you read on, Lando's hands found their way to your sides, tickling you ever so slightly, causing you to giggle. You playfully swatted his hands away, but he persisted, his fingers dancing along your skin.

"You're such a child," you chuckled, but you didn't mind. It was moments like these that made you appreciate how carefree and playful Lando could be.

"You love it," he grinned, his hands still tickling you mercilessly.

You tried to push him away, but he was too quick, his fingers finding every sensitive spot on your body. You couldn't help but laugh, the sound filling the room and mixing with the sound of your voice as you continued reading.

Finally, you managed to catch his hands, holding them still. Lando pouted, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. "I thought you wanted me to read to you?"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, still grinning.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile on your face. "You really are a child," you teased, but your tone was affectionate.

Lando shrugged, his grin still firmly in place. "What can I say? You bring out the playful side in me."

You shook your head, but couldn't help, but feel fondness for the man in your lap. He may have been exhausted from work, but he always managed to find a way to make you laugh and give you attention.

Your reading continued and Lando stilled once more, his breathing becoming slower and more even making you believe he had fallen asleep. However, when you turned to the next page, you heard him let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing even further against you. You smiled at the sound, feeling content with the moment. It was simple, but you found that it was often the simplest moments that brought the most joy.

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Lando's forehead, careful so as not to disturb his peace. You knew that he needed his rest and you were happy to just watch him sleep and take in the moment.

But he was not ready to drift off just yet as his fingers started slowly caressing your legs, reaching upwards to the outside of your thighs.

You paused mid sentence, glancing down at Lando to see if he was awake. His eyes were still closed, but his hands continued their slow, deliberate movements up your legs. A shiver ran through you, and you couldn't help the way your breath caught in your throat.

"Lando?" you asked softly, unsure if he was awake or not.

He didn't answer, but his fingertips kept tracing patterns over your skin. He turned over, lightly brushing the tip of his nose over your inner thighs. Your heart skipped a beat as his lips travelled higher and higher up your body, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way. You could feel the heat building between your legs, and you knew that you were getting wet.

"Lando, what are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and arousal.

"Keep going, baby, keep reading," he continued to kiss his way up, his hands holding your hips steady. You couldn't help, but squirm under his touch, your body already primed for him.

With no other choice, you resumed reading, your voice a bit shaky at the thought of what Lando was going to do to you.

Still teasing, Lando's hands travelled along the inside of your legs, making your lips quiver in response. You struggled to keep reading, the words in front of you starting to blur. With a final flick of his wrist, your panties were gone, and you were completely exposed to him.

"You're doing such a good job, really making me interested in the story..." Lando's voice ghosted over your skin, causing you to shiver.

And before you could turn over the next page, he buried his face between your legs. Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue against your pussy, licking and tasting every inch of you. You threw your head back, panting as his tongue flicked against your clit. He was slow and gentle at first, just teasing you with butterfly kisses. But it wasn't long before his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, his mouth closing over you.

"I didn't tell you to stop reading, did I?" he asked, his voice muffled as he spoke. You shook your head, hands crumpling the book cover as you tried to focus on the text before you. "I'll stop if you do."

But he wouldn't let you. Instead, his mouth closed around your clit, sucking on it as his fingers teased your opening. You gasped, your body shuddering as his fingers slipped inside you, teasing you at the same time.

"Fuck, Lando..." you moaned, the pitch of your voice rising.

"Now, babe, I'm pretty sure that isn't part of the text," he teased, pulling his fingers out of you once more.

"No, no," you whimpered, your eyes pleading with him to keep going. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Please, Lando," you begged, your voice breathless once more.

"Say it, baby," he said softly, his breath hot against you.

"I'm sorry, please, don't stop," you whispered, knowing what he needed to hear.

"Good girl, such a good girl," he said approvingly before going back to what he was doing.

This time, he didn't tease you. Rather, he pressed his lips firmly over your clit, sucking on it hard. You cried out loudly, your hips bucking wildly as he pressed two fingers deep into your wet, dripping cunt. His fingers worked you fast and hard, curling upwards to tease your g-spot. You could feel your muscles tightening, pleasure radiating through your body as you got closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come," you said breathlessly, your legs shaking as you tried to keep them open for him.

"I didn't tell you to come, did I?" he asked, his fingers still working away at your wet, needy pussy, this time even harder than before.

"No, please, I'm so close..." you trailed off, your body trembling on the brink.

"Beg for it, baby. Tell me how much you want to come. Use your words." he said firmly, his fingers increasing their speed. He knew you were close, and he loved the way your body shook beneath his touch.

"Fuck, I need to come, please, let me come," you whimpered, tossing your head back as you tried to hold on a little longer.

"Oh, really?" he asked, his fingers stilling for a moment. He loved denying you, loved denying you the pleasure you so desperately wanted, especially when you were this close.

"Yes, please, I'm almost there," you begged, your voice tight with arousal as you tried to keep yourself from orgasming.

"You really want to come?" he asked, his fingers stilling completely.

"Yes!"

"I'm not sure that's a part of the story, you know," he smirked, looking up at you.

"Please, Lando," you gasped, the sensations of his touch shaking your body.

"Why should I let you come, baby? What's it going to take?" he asked, his fingers lightly dancing against your clit.

"I don't know, I don't care, just finish what you started," you pleaded, your voice breathless and needy.

"I'll think about it," he teased, his fingers still circling against your clit.

"Lando!" you screamed. You tried to push yourself over the edge, but it was no use. He just wasn't going to let you come.

You bit your lip, doing your best not to cry out in frustration. He removed his fingers, and you could feel the cool air on your wet skin. And before you could turn over another page, his fingers plunged into you once more, his tongue returning to tease your clit.

"I thought I told you to keep reading," he said, his fingers picking up the pace once more.

You tried to focus on the words on the page, but it was no use. It was impossible to focus when he was doing that to you.

"Such a good girl, such a good girl," he murmured. "Come for me, baby, just for me."

And that was all it took, your body breaking over the edge as you came hard against his mouth. Your moans filled the room, his name falling from your lips as you rode out your orgasm.

You slumped back against the pillows, your breathing heavy as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Lando pulled up your panties, his fingers gentle as he ran them over your skin.

"Ready for the next chapter?" he grinned innocently, his lips brushing against your inner thigh.

[dollfacefantasy]

Since your request are open :) and I’m literally a slut for Wolverine can you feed us some sfw and some nsfw alphabet head canon for our dilf??? I’m literally screaming ( without an s) for himmmmmm😩

eeeeee yes!!! of course i can, thanks for the ask bb <3 i'm gonna split these into two so the post won't be too long i wrote these with X2 in mind cause he's my favorite, but imagine whichever version calls to you. mdni (18+) !!

logan howlett x fem!reader nsfw alphabet ♡

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Logan is good with aftercare. Like the man fucks you into oblivion but then he'll clean you up and grab you some water afterwards. He talks to you too. Tells you how good you did and how pretty you looked for him. He's touchy, not overly clingy, but he likes how you curl up to his side and rest your head on him. He'll hold you too and rub your back.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your pussy. Like he's obsessed. Stares at it before he eats you out, just running his thumb up and down your slit. Loves to toy with your clit and hear you whine. Always tells you how "she's" crying for him. "She" loves him so much, squeezes him so tight.

On himself, I think it'd be his abs. He knows he's hot shit. He can see how you look at them, and it strokes his ego so much. He has his shirt off a lot when it's just the two of you, and he acts so innocent about it. Loves to tease you when he catches you staring.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves cumming inside you. He can't explain why, but it's just this deep, innate satisfaction he gets when he fills you up. Also, on a separate note, he licks his fingers clean when he makes you cum all over them. Does not let a single drop go to waste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He'll whine if you pull his hair. It'll be the most pathetic, needy sound you've ever heard in your entire life. It'll be utterly humiliating for him, but that just makes him fuck you harder so it's worth it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ok ok. Hear me out. Logan wants everyone to think he's a slut, but in reality, I don't think he is. I think he's had a decent amount of experience, but it's more so his dedication to the person he's with that makes him a good lover. He does what pleases you not just what he's found to work on others.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Basic, but his favorite is missionary. He wants to be able to have a clear view of your face while he's making you fall apart. He likes marking up your neck too which he can easily do in this position. That's not to say he won't mix it up and do other positions, but his favorite is always gonna be the classic.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Overall, he's serious. He loves to tease, but in the heat of the moment, it's only to make you whine or beg. Laughter is not the sound he's aiming for when he's balls deep in you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's got BUSH. A huge bush. Listen. This man has all that hair on his head. Hairy forearms, hairy chest, hairy abs. He has a massive bush down there too. And that's beautiful.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Depends. He can be pretty gentle and romantic if he chooses. He can also be cocky and just run on pure lust in the moment. Most of the time, it's the latter. He fucks with the intention of pleasure. But if you've had a hard day or he's feeling vulnerable himself, the sex is much more soft. Lots of kisses, his face buried in your neck, whispering how much he needs you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He limits his jerking off to the shower. He doesn't wanna deal with the mess, and if he's that horny, he'll just come find you. Though when he does jerk off, he can get into it. Grunting, groaning, mumbling your name. Cause of course, he's thinking of you while he does it. Thinking of how cute you looked when you bent over to pick up something you dropped. Recalling the soft purr in your voice when you said his name yesterday. Imagining how good it would feel if your cunt was wrapped around him instead of his fist.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He doesn't know it yet, but this man is into pet play. He's not gonna dive right in with the ears and tail. It starts small. He calls you 'pup' sometimes without thinking too much about it. He nearly cums in his pants watching you hump his thigh like you're in heat. He's super possessive so seeing you in a collar for him would drive him up the wall.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom cause he doesn't want anyone else walking in and interrupting. Even though he jerks off in the shower, he doesn't like to fuck in there. One time the two of you were getting down in there and he slipped and it sounded like a group of metal pipes falling. It was truly tragic. Totally humiliating. Never again. You're not even allowed to speak of the incident. From then on, he keeps your escapades solely between the walls of your bedroom, but it's not always on the bed. He'll bounce you on his lap while sitting in the chair you guys have in the corner, bend you over the dresser, or maybe press you against the window.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Logan's a natural tease, so if you try teasing him back, that really revs his engine. It's just so cute that you think you can outdo him. He'll just have to show you otherwise and fuck you till the only words you can speak are his name and "please more."

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Won't do anything with the claws. He has enough anxiety about waking up from a nightmare and impaling you by accident. Anything reminding him of that possibility has his dick soft in seconds.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Logan is a lover boy through and through, so that man would have no problem eating you out. He enjoys making you feel so good, and he loves having to hold you in place by your thighs cause you're squirming around so much. He also loves having his hair pulled, so do that and he'll grind himself against the mattress a few times.

As for receiving, Logan thinks it's so cute when you offer to blow him. He's never gonna say no. He loves watching you go to work on him, bobbing your head with such dedication and making yourself gag when you try to take too much.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

90% of the time he's fast, but that doesn't always mean rough; though he can do that too. You just feel so so good, it's hard for him to take his time. He can if he's in the mood or is tired and just wants something lazy. But usually he's bucking into without holding back.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He has no problem with quickies. If you're living at the mansion, you gotta seize the opportunity when it presents itself. As established, he's fast anyways. He will get you and himself there in a matter of minutes. Plus, it presents the bonus of knowing his cum is leaking out of you for the rest of the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If you came to Logan with something you wanted to try in bed, he'd most likely be down. There isn't much that's going to be a hard no for him. Even if he's not super into it personally, he'd still be willing to play with it if it was something that got you going. Plus the fact that you asked at all shows you trust him which means a lot to him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

In his prime, he can last for a while and go multiple rounds. He's got that uncharted regenerative capability. He can get hard again pretty fast, and he will put that ability to use if you're feeling needy. He'll tease you about being insatiable even though he wants it just as much.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Does not own any toys. He doesn't feel the need. If you wanted to try using toys in the bedroom, he would, but he's never going to suggest that on his own. He prefers just pleasuring you without aid.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Logan is nothing if not a tease. Since the day you met him, he can't seem to go too long without trying to get a reaction out of you. And that extends to the bedroom. He loves edging you and then teasing you for how you whine. Gets you near tears by overstimulating you and then coos at you "What's wrong, sweetheart? Doesn't it feel good?"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's not loud, but he's vocal. He growls and grunts right next to your ear, letting you hear every little sound he makes. He talks you through it too. "Ohhh, look at that face, that's my baby. Feels so good, doesn't it? That's my girl."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

One of the hottest things Logan's seen is when he caught you having a dream about him. The way your moans were all soft and hazy with sleep and your thighs were pressing against each other as you squirmed. It got him all riled up knowing he was on your mind even when you were unconscious.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's got a big cock. It's a good length, and it's pretty thick. There's a pretty vein that goes up the shaft. His balls are heavy too. Nice and big to go with his dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Yearner is Logan's middle name. He pined for you, and now that he has you, he's not gonna waste that. He's got a high sex drive and you guys are doing it most days of the week at least once.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He takes a while to fall asleep afterwards. He just likes to make sure you've settled. He'll watch you sleep for a little bit and be alone with his thoughts before finally conking out.

[gothgoblinbabe]

Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You

(chapter 1/2)

(Logan Howlett x fem reader)

A/N: Yeah, the brain rot has reached a maximum and I've completely disregarded the consequences of a digital footprint! there's a couple descriptions of style of clothing/jewelry but you can imagine that as you please, also absolutely based off of "Babe Im Gonna Leave You" by Led Zeppelin bc idk somewhere in my delusions I think Logans a Zeppelin kinda guy and its what I've been listening to. For the sake of the plot, stick with me, you've got an imaginary ex bf and his random name I picked is gonna be Danny and he suuuucks real hard okay? okay and I need you to pretend dear lovely reader that you like led zeppelin if you don't 💔[holding your face ever so gently and smooching ur forehead] and I've seen only xmen origins, x-men, X2, and Deadpool x wolverine so pls pls forgive me if some stuff doesn't canonically fit. This is kind of cringe but I wrote too much of it to get rid of it just bare with me I beg of u and it was so long I had to split it into two parts

Summary: Meeting the infamous Wolverine got you roped into a liiiitle more than what you bargained for

Warnings: swearing, you have telekinesis and telepathy (cause that's cool, c'mon), mild angst, suggestive stuff kinda, mentions of cheating (Logan does not cheat on u I pinkie promise), Logan calls you kid but you're not actually a child lol, you're a good bit younger than him but also so is anyone else who isn't borderline immortal

Word Count: 4K

Pt 2!

[credit for text post dividers here and here]

There had been muttering here and there between the students at the academy that Wolverine was coming back after a few years on his own, confirmed when Marie recognized the motorcycle now parked in the driveway of the mansion.

"Logan!"

He was immediately wrapped into a hug by Marie at the door, dropping his bags to the floor.

"Hey, kid, miss me?"

"Maybe," she smiled sweetly, tucking the white strands of hair behind her ears.

"Long time no see, huh?" Ororo's voice interrupted from behind her, earning a hug from Logan.

"Any one else around?" he questioned, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder again.

"Scott and Jean are around here somewhere, Charles as well. Oh, and there's a couple new faces you haven't met," she responded, smiling at the way Marie's eyes lit up at the chance to mention what she had been meaning to tell Logan.

Marie gasped and said your name, grabbing Logan's arm in excitement, "you have got to meet her. She joined us a couple of months ago, I think you'll really like her. She's kind of been like...our you, when you've been gone."

He quirked an eyebrow at that, looking between the both of them for an explanation as to what that was supposed to mean.

"You'll see," Ororo chuckled lightly, "oh, you will see."

"She's here now, I think, you should go introduce yourself to her!"

Logan had swiftly caught onto Marie's adorable attempt to play cupid and gave her a nod, "maybe when I settle in, okay, kid?"

She nodded in agreement and both her and Ororo watched him walk off further down the corridor.

"How do you think it will go when they meet?" the later of the two asked earnestly once he was out of sight.

"Well," Marie paused for a moment, thinking, "they'll be inseparable or absolutely hate each other."

Ororo nodded in agreement almost immediately, holding in a small laugh.

Much later in the evening, Logan had been beckoned into the study along with Ororo, Marie, Bobby, you, Jean and Scott by Charles.

He had been the last to enter, eyes immediately settling on your unfamiliar frame stood next to Marie with your back against the wall. You had plenty of rings adorning your fingers and necklaces dangling in front of your chest in the same kind of fashion he'd seen in those magazines with the Harley biker girls. You looked a little like one of them too, in well fitting jeans adorned with a belt, a band shirt and some chunky boots, except you were very much real and not on glossy paper.

"Oh! Logan!" Marie exclaimed upon noticing his arrival, beckoning him over with her hand. That turned your attention to him and he felt like the wind may have been knocked out of him when your eyes met his. You were far prettier than any of the girls he'd seen in any magazine.

"This is her," Marie whispered to Logan when he approached and nudged his arm, referring to when she had told him about you earlier.

"This is Logan," Marie said to you, gesturing towards him and leaning a little closer to you to whisper something he wouldn't catch, "and he's single, by the way."

A grin was plastered on her face when she pulled away and you rolled your eyes, "Marie - "

"I know, I know, too soon, but I just thought that was very good information for you to know," she raised her hands and stepped away a little, still intent on watching how the two of you interact for the first time.

Logan extended a hand for you to shake and you did the same. Your hands were small in his and your skin soft to the touch. It was almost hard for him to drop your grip when he did, nervous that he'd hold it even a second too long.

Nervous. Women had rarely ever made him nervous in the hundred - something years he'd been alive, and yet he could feel his heart pounding in his ears when you ran your hands through your hair to push it out of your face.

"Nice to meet you," he finally spoke, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

This may have been a good opportunity to try out your powers a little, concentrate hard enough on the handsome stranger's face to know what exactly was playing out behind his staring gaze, but you resisted the urge to do what you considered a tad bit violating.

"Same here," you responded at last, averting your gaze for just a moment to avoid inadvertently doing exactly what you had just decided you wouldn't.

Marie and Ororo had studied the small interaction between the two of you - of course - waiting for something more to happen, only to be disappointed when the both of you nodded courtly and turned away from each other.

"Well, that's not good. He'd be on her like a dog already - " Ororo started under her breath.

"No, no, I just think..." Marie interrupted, narrowing her eyes between the two of you, "I think they just need to get to know each other."

"Honey..."

"I'm telling you, I just feel like they'd be good together, they just need a chance to get to know each other!"

"Do you really think she's ready to get with another guy?" Ororo nodded her head in your direction, lowering her voice, "after all that stuff Danny pulled?"

Marie grimaced at the mention of one of the professors names, shaking her head in mild disgust, "have you seen him lately? always coming up to her in the halls and stuff, it's sad - for him, I mean."

Before either of them could further debate the topic, Charles gained everyone's attention to discuss a series of tasks he'd assigned to you all. As he spoke, you only tuned in once you heard your name.

"You are the one I'd like to send out to complete that with Daniel."

"Could, uh, can I do it with someone else? or have him do it alone, or something?"

Logan caught the confused look Jean shot your way, tilting her head before she spoke, "You don't want to go with Danny? What happened, I thought the two of you -"

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, scowling, "uh-uh. Hell no. He...uh, I'll tell you about it later."

You had realized the sudden vulnerability you'd found yourself experiencing in a room full of eyes on you and cleared your throat, attempting to change the subject.

"I can hang back and keep an eye on the kids, I don't mind."

"They do love you," Ororo chimed in, "and we need someone to stay back to watch them anyway."

"They only like her so much because she allows them to break the rules," Scott remarked, earning a nudge in the arm from Jean.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Scott, the thing with the kids in your room was one time and it was an accident - "

"Was it? Because one of them wrote 'asshole' on my bathroom mirror with sharpie."

"They're kids, they do that kind of stuff!"

"was that really one of the kids?"

You tucked your lower lip under your teeth in an attempt to smother a laugh. Logan almost immediately did the same when you darted your eyes around the room in a guilty attempt to avoid eye contact.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me - " Scott started but Charles interrupted, holding up a hand.

"Alright, the both of you - enough. You," he continued, gesturing towards you, "may stay back with the children. Please do not allow them into anyone's personal quarters and I would advise you to hide the permanent markers for the time being, away from the children and perhaps yourself."

You nodded and hung your head low to hide the reappearing smile across your face. Logan stared inadvertently from then on, watching you twist your rings around your fingers and focusing on you intently when you spoke every now and then. When you were all dismissed by Charles and filed out of the room, you and Marie walked ahead of most of the group, almost out of ear shot.

Logan heard Jean's hushed voice behind him as she leaned into Scott, "so...what do you think happened? With Danny?"

"Who the hell is this Danny guy?" he finally asked, turning over his shoulder to interrogate the two of them.

"Well," Jean whispered your name, looking ahead to be sure you hadn't caught their conversation, "it's her boyfriend. Or was, I guess. They had a thing for awhile but they stopped hanging around each other all the sudden and she can't even stand to hear his name - she hasn't told me what it's about yet."

Logan simply hummed in acknowledgment, turning back ahead and finding his gaze caught on the sway of your hips as you walked.

"Oh no," he heard Ororo huff beside him, almost immediately following her gaze to see a guy he didn't recognize slip behind you and put an arm around your waist. Too far out of ear shot to hear the context, he watched you squirm out of the young mans grip and shake your head as you kept walking.

"Is it bad I want to get closer to hear what they're saying?" Ororo muttered, looking to the other three in her proximity.

"It's not our business," Jean reminded her.

"So, that's him?" Logan asked, gesturing to the guy still on your heels like a puppy.

"uh - huh," Ororo answered, frowning as she watched Danny make another pathetic attempt to put his arm around you.

When the two of you stopped at the far end of the hall and you told Marie it was okay to leave you, Logan, Ororo, Scott and Jean all turned the corner to the closest hallway.

"Oh, I know It's bad but I have got to know what lame excuse he's got this time," Ororo shook her head, stopping just around the corner to eavesdrop.

"Ororo - " Jean sighed, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm, "come on."

"They're in the hallway! it's not like I'm standing outside a door," she reasoned, hushing them after so that the only voices hard were yours and Danny's.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry - "

"Danny, many times do I have to tell you I don't care? Why won't you just leave me be?"

You sounded exasperated, your voice slightly muffled when you rubbed your face with your hands.

"What do you think he did?" Scott chimed in in a hushed town, now fully invested in the dialogue.

Logan was still stood there, though he wasn't too sure why. He could have and should have kept walking - let the three of them do their weird detective work - but instead found himself leaned against the wall with the rest of them.

"I love you, you know that, sweetheart, I - "

"ugh, don't call me that. You gross me the hell out, you know that?"

Both Jean and Ororo made almost the same shocked expression.

"oh, it has to be bad," Jean hissed, frowning at the venom in your tone.

"Tell me you're not still in love with me, you know you can't, we - " Danny's voice began again and yours cut him short with a sense of finality in your tone.

"Danny. I stopped being in love with you the day I walked in on you fucking another other girl."

Jean's hands flew to her mouth to muffle a shocked gasp. Scott stood with his arms crossed, his face in a grimace.

"ooh, that is bad," Ororo whispered just as a door slammed.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, following everyone else as they continued their path down the hall again. This Danny kid had to be a real idiot.

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Weeks had passed and you shared small talk with Logan every now and then, sometimes making snarky comments here and there - though more often than not together and at Scott's expense. Funnily enough, the ability to piss Scott off so much made Logan like you even more. Maybe Marie was right, you kind of are like him.

You walked alongside him down the corridor one afternoon, intending to fulfill Ororo's request for the both of you to check in on some of the newer students.

"So, do you always do your hair like that?" you raised your eyebrows up at him, eyeing the peaks in his hair.

"Yeah. What, you don't like it?" He grinned, expecting you to make some smart remark about it.

"No, not that," you giggled, "it's like lil' cat ears, it's cute."

He looked down at you quizzically, stopping in his tracks.

"cat ears?"

"mm-hm. You're like a big kitty."

You bit down another giggle, reaching up boldly to touch his hair.

He gently swatted your hand away, still with a small grin on his face.

"Don't call me that."

"Big kitty?"

"Yes."

"Okay, kitty meow - meow."

He narrowed his eyes as you turned to continue walking in an attempt to hide the huge smile plastered on your cheeks that threatened to transform into a rather loud laugh.

"Uh-huh, whatever. You better not let anyone else hear you call me that," he huffed as he caught up to you rather easily.

As you were about to make another retort, your smile dropped at the sight of a familiar and unfriendly face that had come from around a corner.

"Christ," you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration, rubbing your forehead at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

"Hey," Logan leaned down a little, nudging you gently, "I'm here, you're good. You're fine, don't worry about him. It's just us, alright? Walk past him like you don't even see him."

Though he'd be embarrassed to admit and absolutely deny it if anyone asked, he'd unfortunately (for himself) harbored a crush on you that only took a couple weeks to develop. He hadn't even really gotten the chance to know you yet, though that was precisely why he was glad about moments like these. He wanted to, even if he felt like a school kid with a playground crush.

You had simply nodded at his words, allowing him to place a gentle hand on your upper back to guide you down the hall with him. Even through the layer of a jacket and t-shirt, you could feel the warmth of his hand on you.

Logan remembered that moment in the hall on the first day you'd met, but never pestered you for details about what the hell went on before he got back. He figured when and if you wanted to tell him, that was up to you.

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, it took what felt like years to pass your ex-boyfriend. When you finally did, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, until his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"That's my shirt."

You whipped your head around, feeling Logan slip his arm a little further around you as a protective reflex.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your attire. The shirt, a tad oversized and well worn, was so familiar that you had completely forgotten it once did belong to him.

"I want it back," he spoke again, crossing his arms.

"Do you really want it back?"

You were beyond fed up with his pestering at this point, already having decided what may make the message clear.

"Yes."

"Okay. Fine."

You pulled away from Logan and slipped off your jacket, turning around to hand it to him. He gave you a confused look, hesitantly taking it out of your hands. In a matter of seconds, you turned back around and tugged the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it directly at Danny's chest. You turned back and took your jacket from Logan's hands, zipping it far enough to cover your bra. In the few seconds you had stood facing him, he had done his best to keep his eyes away from your body and failed miserably, looking up after to see the asshole a few feet away already glaring at him.

"What, you're just gonna walk around like that? And what are you doing hanging out with him anyway, don't you know he - "

You groaned at the sound of Danny's voice again, gently tugging Logan by the hand in the opposite direction as you began to walk away, "yap, yap, yap - just shut the fuck up."

Logan couldn't help the smirk plastered across his face as you continued to walk, finally turning a corner. Before you could apologize to him for having to awkwardly stand witness to that, Scott's voice echoed from the stairway above you.

"Hey, Charles is looking for you two. He says he has something he needs you to take care of, he didn't say what."

"Thanks for the specifics, Scott," you replied sarcastically, "but we're supposed to check on - "

"I know," he interrupted, "I got Marie and Bobby to cover you. You're welcome, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back to Logan, dreading what exactly it was Charles wanted from you.

That landed you where you were the next morning, heaving your bags into the back of Logan's truck.

"If we have to take the truck like two states over, can I at least drive?"

The plane being needed for another assignment that Jean, Scott and Ororo were assigned left the two of you with Logan's truck. You'd been asked to retrieve a rare mechanical piece needed for the construction of some new device; you'd only been half-listening when Charles started to explain the details, lost in thought after he'd mentioned it would require the two of you to sleep out overnight.

Man, that had made your chest feel tight. It had been almost physically painful trying to swallow down every tell that you really liked him for the past few weeks and now you had no choice than to be each others only company for nearly 2 days.

"Yeah, in your dreams, kid," Logan scoffed playfully and brought you back to reality, dangling the keys in his hand.

You narrowed your eyes at the keyring he began to spin around his finger. In a split second, the jangle of the metal could be heard as you snatched them from his hand with only a focused thought.

You caught them in your raised palm and tilted your head, a terribly smug smile across your cheeks.

"Looks like my dreams came true, huh?" you teased, walking past a still mildly distraught Logan to get into the drivers side.

"If you dent it, I'll kill ya," he warned as he finally slid into the passenger seat, watching your every move as you started the engine and carefully reversed out of the garage.

"Uh-huh, sure," you retorted sarcastically, "I'm terrified of the kitty claws."

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"Calling you what?" you feigned ignorance, fumbling with the knob on the stereo to change the station as your eyes stayed glued to the road.

"And don't mess with everything, kid, you'll end up breaking something. She's on old girl, you gotta - "

"Dude," you interrupted, simultaneously cranking down your window and fishing a pair of sunglasses out of his center console, "I know how to drive, chill out."

"Dude," he mocked, "this truck is probably almost as old as you, you gotta be careful."

You rolled your eyes under the shades of the worn aviators you had slipped onto your nose, simply nodding and continuing to flip through stations.

"Pick one and stick with it, will you?"

"Ooh, is someone mad I got the keys?"

Before he could say something in response, you gasped at sound of the song playing on the station you had just switched to, twisting the knob almost as far as it could go.

Logan recognized the familiar thump of "babe I'm gonna leave you" by Led Zeppelin, furrowing his eyebrows when you began to nod your head and sing along.

"You like Led Zeppelin?" he nearly had to shout over the music, leaning in to you a little further.

"Yeah," you responded, reaching over to turn the music down just enough for you to hear each other and glancing at him momentarily, "How come you're looking at me like that?"

He unfurrowed his eyebrows and shrugged, keeping his gaze on the road ahead as he spoke, " just never pegged you for a Zeppelin kind of girl, I guess."

"No? What's that supposed to mean?"

You were smiling again and it was excruciatingly difficult for him not to stare when you looked so good in the spot he usually sat with his old sunglasses on.

"Didn't think you had good taste in music."

That made you giggle and you shook your head, turning the stereo back up to a booming volume.

He watched you tap your fingers on the steering wheel to the drums as you continued to drive, occasionally moving to push your windswept hair out of your face. The morning sun shining through your open window highlighted your features perfectly and Logan sighed without a thought, unheard over the music. Jesus, he had it bad.

You could feel his stare in your peripheral vision every time he looked to you and it felt far warmer than the sun beating down on you from the opposite direction. You truly rarely ever used your developing skill of telepathy, feeling it was only justified when absolutely necessary to obtain information, but his burning gaze nearly had you veering off the road at times and his prior answer to the question of why he was looking at you that way wasn't too convincing.

With a deep breath, already wondering if it was a mistake, you kept your eyes focused to the road but gradually concentrated on the man beside you. Sometimes people's thoughts would appear as inner dialogue, other times as imagined scenarios, daydreams or visuals. You were confused, then, when you only saw an image of yourself as you were now. If you concentrated too hard, your own thoughts would transfer to Logan's mind and it would be humiliatingly obvious that you had been poking around in his consciousness and so you tried to clear your mind and try again, assuming your own mind was too preoccupied with yourself to concentrate properly.

Still, you could only see the image of yourself driving from the perspective of the passengers seat, one hand on the wheel and the other in your hair as you propped your elbow on the door. This time, though, you could hear the accompanying echo of Logan's voice over the hum of the music you had tuned out.

Is her hair always like that? I like it that way. Pretty.

You swallowed hard, fidgeting with the hair that was between your fingers. It's a compliment - innocent enough, and undeniably kind of sweet. You felt guilty then for probing his thoughts and nearly shook yourself out of it, only to realize the image in Logan's mind was no longer of just your profile. He was thinking about your legs, thighs squished against the seat of the truck.

Fuck

You nearly choked on your own saliva, clearing your throat at the echo of his voice again and immediately withdrawing yourself from his mind.

"You okay?" Logan spoke aloud, putting a gentle hand on your upper arm.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you lied, trying with every fiber of your being to just keep all focus on the road. You knew you shouldn't have done that. It was just a thought, though, nothing said aloud to change anything between the two of you, and so you pretended the best you could that you hadn't heard or seen a thing.

About eight hours, a handful of dad rock albums and a stop to switch seats later, you finally pulled into the parking lot of the nearest motel you had found didn't have a highlighted "no vacancy" sign.

"If there's fucking bed bugs in here, I will never let you hear the end of it," you warned from the passenger seat.

"I think you'd talk my ear off till the day I die anyway," he scoffed, shifting the truck into park and pulling the keys from the ignition.

"You won't die for another hundred-something years."

"Exactly my point, honey."

You rolled your eyes and slipped out of the truck as he did, pretending the nickname hadn't made your face burn. You both grabbed your belongings and once inside you looked around the small lobby as Logan checked you in, impressed with how surprisingly clean the place seemed to be.

"Hey, is that okay?"

Logan's voice took your attention from the painting on the wall you'd been inspecting and you raised your eyebrows.

"Huh?

"Uh, there's a room left but it's only got one bed."

Your face dropped and you looked between him and the poor kid behind the counter who already looked nervous as all hell.

"You're kidding."

"We can keep driving, but we've already been on the road all day and I don't think there's another place around here for a good few miles."

He was much more calm than you expected him to be and you exhaled, thinking of the literal pain in the ass caused by sitting in the car for so many hours.

"Ugh, fine."

A/N: I had to split this in two because it was so long but If anyone likes this at all I will post da other part cause I like spewing my brain rot on the internet <3

[peachesofteal]

The Pit

COD masterlist Part 1/2 - Part 2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.

Winter in the mountains can be cruel. 

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable. 

Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.

There are predators who thrive. 

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles. 

“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top. 

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod. 

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.” 

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts. 

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.” 

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights. 

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse. 

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one. 

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind. 

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded. 

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area. 

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling. 

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body. 

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm. 

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and- 

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath. 

You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment. 

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding. 

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind. 

Sleep. 

You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.

There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.

You try to call for help, but you can’t.

You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.

You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.

Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel. 

Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.

Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-

You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?

Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.

The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.

You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.

One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.

That’s when you see him.

A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.

“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.

It's snowing.

You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.

You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.

This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened? 

And why do you hurt so fucking bad? 

“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.

“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”

“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.

“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.

“Nnrgh-“

“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.

“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.

“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”

“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?

“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember? 

“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.

“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?

“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?

“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.

“I don’t… why-“

“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.

“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate? 

“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?

“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?

“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.

“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”

Oh. Oh no. 

“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“

“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye. 

“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.

“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip. 

This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.

You sleep and wake in a haze.

You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.

You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.

You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.

You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.

You sleep.

You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.

You sleep.

You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.

“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”

“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.

“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.

“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.

“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”

“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.

“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”

“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:

“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.

“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down. 

Still… 

Didn’t Johnny kiss you? 

The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.

The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.

“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.

“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.

You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.

You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.

“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.

Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.

“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.

You’re naked. They’re fully clothed. 

“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?

“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.

“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”

“A treat?”  You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones. 

“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.

“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.

“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.

“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”

“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.

All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience. 

“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.

“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.

 “Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.

“Fuck.” You hiss.

“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.

You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.

“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.

What just happened?

You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.

The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.

“Sweet dreams, little dove.”

[roanofarcc]

THE ALCHEMY

pairing. tyler owens x boone’s sister! reader

summary. the reunion of you and your high school sweetheart, years after your split, brings back all those long-lost feelings you tried to bury. (based off of taylor swift's "the alchemy")

warnings. ex-high school sweetheart tyler owens. fem!reader. reader was a pageant queen. bull rider tyler lives rent-free in my head (I need to write more bc oof...). a little bit of angst but with a happy ending!

word count. 5.3k || masterlist

‘What if I told you I’m back?... I circled you on a map… I haven’t come around in so long,  but I’m coming back so strong.’ 

The sweet smell of rain filled your senses the second you stepped out of your car. The gray sky overhead spat little droplets onto the red dirt road, instantly causing the dirt to stick to your boots. You pulled your jacket closer to your body as the wind picked up.

“We couldn’t have met up at a gas station or something?” you shouted, cupping your hands around your mouth to draw the attention of the group huddled around a red pickup truck parked off to the side of an empty road, which was split between two freshly planted fields. 

“Oh, shit!” A wide grin broke out on your brother’s lips as he rushed towards you. He tackled you in a hug that quickly became him hooking an arm around your neck as he brought his knuckles down against the top of your head, screwing up your hair. With a huff, you shoved him off, playfully punching him in the arm as you mirrored his smile. 

“You could have at least told me we’d be meeting up in the middle of bumble-fuck,” you said. 

Boone rolled his eyes. “Everywhere around here’s bumble-fuck,” he said. “We’re waiting for a storm to come through here and the closest building is school fifteen miles north.” 

You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before it was Lily’s turn to tackle you in a hug, nearly knocking you to the ground. The rest of the Wranglers surrounded you excitedly, all talking over each other, but you had gotten good at following their chattiness from the years Boone had been a part of the internet famous storm chasing group. 

“I can’t believe Boone finally talked you into chasing with us,” Dani said. 

“He didn’t tell me you guys were chasing this weekend until I landed,” you replied, glaring slightly at your brother. “It felt too late to back out.” 

“Damn right!” Boone said, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna love it; right, Ty?” 

Compared to him in the group’s livestreams, Tyler Owens stood unusually quiet and lingered back in the group that swarmed you. Since you often tuned into their streams, he didn’t look too different, but it had felt like a lifetime since you’d seen him in person. The last time you met his gaze, he had just hit his last growth spurt as high school neared the end. He wore his tattered cowboy hat nearly every day and the same old pair of boots that you used to get excited about when you saw them discarded in your mudroom. The Tyler looking at you now was grown and broad, in a new hat and boots. 

“Yeah,” Tyler answered, sending you a quick, unsure smile. 

You returned it before turning to Boone. “Great. Can you help me with something first?” He nodded and followed you back to your car. You opened the driver’s side door and pretended that you really did need your brother’s help. “Did you not tell him I was coming?” 

Boone sucked air between his teeth, his tell-tale sign that you were right, but he was going to try to lie about it. You glared at him, and he sighed. “No, not exactly. Not until this morning…” 

“Boone!” you groaned. It was one thing being in awkward proximity to your high school sweetheart, it was another when he had no idea you were coming to crash his party. You two had kept it weird but civil, considering Tyler and Boone were best friends and had been since the day they met at the county fair, but you two had grown exceptionally good at avoiding each other, up until then. 

“I’m sorry! But you already planned to come out this weekend and Mother Nature had her own plans. It’s been years, can’t you two just get along?” 

It was more complicated than ‘getting along.’ You could get along with Tyler, probably pretty easily if you had let his presence slip from your mind since you ended things with each other before you split up for college. But you still found him stupidly charming through your screen; seeing him in person was a different ball game. You never outgrew the space you had carved out in your heart for him, and it was embarrassing. 

“I’m sure we can get along just fine,” you said. “But that doesn’t make it any less weird.” For you, probably not for Tyler. He seemed to be doing rather well for himself. If you were being honest with yourself, he probably hadn’t thought about you in years, not too deeply anyway. You were just some girl he dated in high school and the sister of his best friend who never came around anymore. 

“If it feels weird, just make that weird face you do when Grandad makes a bad joke and I’ll try to buffer it out.” 

You rubbed your temples. “Fine,” you huffed, peering around the door at the group invested in their conversation. You looked at Tyler, standing with his hands on his hips and a small, genuine smile on his lips as he listened to his friends. You couldn’t help the memories the sight of him dredged up. 

‘Call the amatures and cut ‘em from the team. Ditch the clowns, get the crown. Baby, I’m the one to beat.’ 

Cotton candy was sticky on your fingers as you plucked it from the stick. You resisted the urge to wipe them off on your brand-new dress, knowing your mom would have a fit even, though it was impossible to stay clean while doing your duties strolling around the fairgrounds, greeting guests, and getting pictures taken. A sash was placed across your chest, sparkly and bright, declaring you the winner of Fair Queen, a beauty pageant you’d been dreaming about since you were a little girl in 4-H, watching the pretty girls up on stage in their gowns and cowgirl boots. 

You walked with pride, head held high to keep your crown upright and a smile stuck on your lips. Just as you finished your cotton candy, you spotted your older brother set up a picnic table. He was with another boy, the two talking excitedly to each other despite you never having seen the kid he was talking to before. He sat opposite of Boone, dressed in a dirty pair of boots and a hat that covered wild blond hair that poked out from underneath. 

You absentmindedly fixed your hair, as you had been doing all day in the summer heat, before heading towards them. The blond spotted you first, sitting up a little straighter. 

“Boone,” you called out, gaining your brother’s attention. He waved at you with a mouth full of pizza. You noticed the spread of food between the two boys. “You didn’t spend all of mom’s money, did you?” 

He winced, swallowing his bite and slowly pushing a half-eaten basket of fries toward you. “I saved you these…” You narrowed your eyes, and he threw his hands up in defense. “You’re fair royalty! I didn’t know you had to pay for food!” 

“I’m not the queen of England,” you said. 

“Here,” the blond piped up, holding up a fresh slice of pizza. You looked at him, confused and a little dazzled by his soft smile and the smear of dirt across his cheek. You knew for sure he’d never hung around your brother before because you’d remember a face like that. The boys at school and that your brother hung around weren’t nearly as cute as the blond cowboy. 

“What?” you said after a beat too long. 

“You can have it; we can’t let the royalty starve, now can we?” 

You felt heat rush to your face but played it off with a shake of your head. “No, it’s okay.” 

“Technically, I think it’s yours. Boone bought it for me. Besides, I gotta get back. My dad will have my ass if I skip out on feeding the bulls…again.” The blond all but shoved the pizza into your hands.

Boone groaned dramatically. “Aw man, I was gonna say we should try to sneak onto the rides.” 

The blond grinned, standing up and stretching his lanky limbs. He was a head or two taller than your brother, and you noticed the paper pinned to the back of his shirt. 

“You’re one of the bull riders?” you asked, an impressed tone dripping into your voice. 

The blond adjusted his hat before he tipped it in a nod. “Yes, ma’am. Tyler Owens,” he said, stretching out his hand toward you. A little too quickly, you shook his hand, matching his toothy grin. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. 

“Right back at ‘cha, your highness,” he teased before turning to Boone. “I’ll be here all week. When I’m not practicing for the rodeo next weekend, I’ll get us those wristbands for free.” 

Boone gasped. “You got a double agent carnie?” 

Tyler laughed, patting Boone on the shoulder before he started walking away. You smiled sillily down at the slice of pizza in your hand, knowing there was no way that cowboy would leave your mind any time soon. 

‘What if I told you we’re cool? That child’s play back in school, is forgiven under by rule.’ 

As terrifying as it was, you had to admit, storm chasing was incredibly thrilling. Boone had been doing it for years, but you never tagged along. You’d been taught to run away and shelter in the face of storms, but that didn’t stick for Boone like it had for you. 

Racing down the backroads in the back of Tyler’s truck, you found yourself incredibly stressed and entertained at the same time. From the front seat, your brother hollered as he live-streamed, clearly having the time of his life. 

Tyler stopped on top of a hill, throwing the truck into park before everyone rushed out to snap some pictures as the tornado raged on across the wide-open fields. The deep gray clouds were captivating, swirling around in a dangerous but beautiful display. It hurried further from where you stood, taking your anxiety along with it. You held your camera up to your face, capturing the moment in a way you’d never before. 

You laughed in disbelief, riding a kind of adrenaline high that made you begin to understand why Boone loved chasing. “That was incredible!” you said, a little breathless. 

“Did it live up to your expectations,” Tyler asked, appearing beside you. You faltered, seeing him face to face up close. He had the same smile, one that made him look freshly seventeen again. Only he was no longer the lanky kid who used to pick you flowers before every date and entertained your family game nights with zero complaints. It was a hard pill to swallow, especially standing in front of him, but you didn’t really know that Tyler Owens. The internet-famous Wrangler was worlds away from the rodeo star you used to know like the back of your hand. 

“Yeah,” you replied, voice soft in the afternoon air. He turned his gaze out over the expanse of field that started at the bottom of the hill and stretched beyond what your eyes could see, staying quiet as the rest of the Wranglers excited chatted somewhere behind you guys. You didn’t look at him either, focusing elsewhere while your mind conjured up the pretty little memories of you and Tyler from high school against your wishes. “I’m sorry Boone forgot to tell you I was coming.” 

Tyler was quiet for a moment, letting out something between a sigh and a chuckle. “I don’t think he forgot. I think he thought I’d tell him not to bring you.” 

“Would you have?” 

You felt his eyes shift onto the side of your face, and you turned your head. “No, ‘course not.” 

Relief flooded your chest. You didn’t know why it was important to you if Tyler wanted you around or not. In hindsight, you had dated years ago, back when you were kids, so it probably hardly counted as a real relationship in his head. But it was more than that to you. As silly as it sounded, you’d always hold a soft spot for Tyler. That’s why you tried to avoid him face-to-face. It made you feel weird, plucking at the abandoned teenage heartstring you once tied to him. 

‘These blokes warm the benches. We’ve been on a winning streak.  He jokes that it’s heroin, but this time with an ‘e’.’ 

The fair week raged on in a wonderful storm of non-stop chaos and action. You were there every day, dressed up all pretty with a sash and a crown, grinning from ear to ear at every little kid who tugged on the skirt of your dress to get a picture and front row of every competition. 

When you eventually got a little downtime from your queenly duties, you met up with your brother, who had resorted to hanging out at the grandstands. He didn’t technically need to be at the fair all day, every day like you did, but he was your ride. Instead of making trips back and forth, he used you as if free entry into the grounds and spent his days bouncing between the food stands and his new friend, Tyler Owens. When Tyler was busy practicing for the big rodeo on the very last night of the fair, Boone cheered him on from the bleachers. 

“How’s he lookin’ today,” you asked, taking a seat beside Boone. 

“A shoo-in for stayin on that son-of-bitch the longest, which I think is the point but to be honest I haven’t been paying that much attention. Did you know all elephant ears are half-price if you order a lemonade? It’s a steal,” he said before taking an obnoxiously large bite, letting the cinnamon sugar spill onto his lap. 

You rolled your eyes before you turned your attention to Tyler. He was standing against the fencing, listening to the man beside him talk, who you assumed was his dad. He must have felt you staring because he turned around and squinted upward at you and Boone before a grin broke out across his face and he waved you over. 

“Shit,” you hissed, smoothing out the skirt of your dress and the fabric of your sash. “Is he calling you or me down?” 

Boone wiped his mouth. “You for sure. I was just down there, and he kept asking, ‘where’s your sister?’ ‘what’s she up to today?’” he said, a slightly mocking tone in his voice. Your heart quickened in your chest, a little flutter like a butterfly wing forming inside your stomach. “I told him you were so not interested in some wannabe cowboy; you’re welcome.” 

Your eyes widened before you smacked your brother’s arm, hard. He nearly dropped his elephant year. “Shit! What the hell?” 

“Why would you tell him that?” 

Boone looked at you like you had grown two heads. “Those were literally your own words when mom asked you about any cute boys at the fair!” 

If you weren’t in public, you’d strangle him. Of course you weren’t interested in most of the boys strolling around the fair with their high and mighty attitudes, but from the little you’d been around Tyler, he didn’t seem too much like them, and he was much cuter. 

“Idiot,” you muttered before you climbed down the bleachers to where Tyler was. 

“Afternoon,” you greeted him and the older man. 

Tyler beamed. “See dad, I told you I met her. She’s even got the crown to prove it.” 

Tyler’s dad chuckled and shook his head. “And here I thought my son was making up meeting the queen herself.” He extended his hand just as Tyler had when you first met him a couple days prior. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope my son hasn’t been causing you too much trouble.” 

“No, sir. Not at all," you said.

“Good.” He checked the watch on his wrist and seemed to contemplate something. “Ty, you got an hour and a half. Buy her and yourself some dinner, but don’t be late, got it?” 

Tyler nodded, a bit too enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir!” He snatched a couple of bills from his dad’s hands before he shoved them in his pocket. His dad wandered away while Tyler practically bounced on his toes. “How does a pizza sound?” 

Between you, Tyler, and Boone, you finished off a whole pizza, comfortably seated at a picnic table. Your bother offered to buy everyone a pop, leaving you and Tyler alone. You propped your chin up on your hand and gazed at him from across the table. 

“Boone says you’re a shoo-in for winnin’ the rodeo,” you said. 

Tyler ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders. “My dad wants me to win more than anyone, I think. I don’t know if I will though.” 

“Well, I’ll be rootin’ for ‘ya,” you said. 

“Really?” He looked at you all stary-eyed.

You’d had plenty of crushes on boys before, but there was something about Tyler that settled differently in your chest. Maybe it was his tinted pink cheeks when he talked to you, or the little creases by his eyes when he smiled widely. Maybe the summer heat and crown on top of your head made you woozy with confidence and flushed with admiration. Whatever it was, all you knew was that in the very short time you’d known Tyler Owens, you wanted to keep on knowing him. 

‘Cause the sign on your heart, said it’s still reserved for me.’ 

The Wranglers and you pulled off at a little motel a couple miles off the interstate, near where a cluster of storm cells were brewing over the next couple of days. Tailgating was all a part of the storm-chasing experience, according to the Wranglers, and you were happy to join them. 

You sat on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck bed, watching with amusement as your brother shot-gunned a beer with Dani. She threw the can down first, earning a round of cheers. Dexter offered you a beer, and before you could decline, Tyler appeared beside Dextor, returning from where he had disappeared to. 

“She’s not a beer drinker,” he said. “Unless you’ve had a change of heart?” 

You were surprised he remembered. There had been countless summer bonfires where Tyler’s friend had tried to get you to drink a beer, and every time you tried it you didn’t change your mind about the taste. You’d hand it off to Tyler for him to finish. 

“No, still can’t stand it,” you replied. Dexter moved on with the cooler while Tyler hopped up beside you, leaving a fair gap. He held out a pop that he must’ve gotten from the vending machine, offering it to you. “Thanks,” you said. 

As the night stretched on, you found your attention drifting away from the Wranglers and onto the sky. It was stunningly clear, putting the stars on display. You rested back on your elbows, peering upwards. You had missed catching Tyler's curiosity until he knocked his shoulder with yours. 

“What can we see tonight,” he asked, the same way he once had when you found yourself in a similar position as teenagers. Tyler would ask you about the constellations, but he often paid more attention to you than the sky. That wasn’t the case anymore, though; his eyes were actually fixed on the dark expanse of sky overhead, glittering with stars as far as the eyes could see. 

You pointed out the ones you could see, tracing them with your finger until you had run through all of the ones you could make out. The two of you continued to watch them, listening to the Wranglers’ conversation in the background. It was unnervingly peaceful, something you hadn’t been in a long time. Even when you’d visit home, there were too many differences to make it feel fully like the home you had left when college rolled around. You knew that was the nature of growing up, things changed; they had to. But there was something about the laughter of your brother that you could almost pretend was from a room just across the hall, and the presence of Tyler beside you that made you feel seventeen again. 

It lulled you into a false sense of peace that you were okay with. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fluttered closed, head resting on your crumbled-up sweatshirt as you lay in the bed of Tyler’s truck. The smell of spring and the hum of the wind put you into a light sleep. 

It wasn’t until someone gently shook your shoulder that you woke up with a little start. It was still dark, but the parking lot had emptied of tailgaters. You rubbed your eyes, unblurring the world around you until the face of Tyler came clearly into view. 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, a flush of embarrassment crawling up your spine. “Sorry.” 

Tyler chuckled lightly. “You can still do that, huh?” You furrowed your brows, confused. “Fall asleep anywhere.” 

“Oh,” you said, sheepishly sitting up right. “I guess so.” 

He ran a hand through his hair, a smile softly playing on his lips that you found yourself looking at for a moment too long. He caught you but didn’t drop it. Instead, he outstretched his hand and nodded his head toward the building. 

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk ‘ya to your room.” 

You didn’t think before taking his hand, some kind of old muscle memory, but the second your fingers curled around his, you felt that stupid flutter reemerge in your chest. It made you feel childish; a crush you couldn’t kill despite having outgrown it. For a second, as he helped you off the tailgate, you thought you saw the same light blush that crept across his cheeks when he shook your hand the first day you met, but you wrote it off as a trick of the dim lighting. 

When your two feet were on the ground, you both let go and you let him lead the way to your motel room. Boone had left your keys with Tyler, and he handed them off to you as you approached the door. You hesitated for a second. 

“Tyler,” you rushed out. He hung back from where you stood, leaving a stretch of space that felt like a world apart. “Thank you for letting me tag along today.” You weren’t sure what else to say, how to voice the hot creep of old feelings refilling your gut. 

He searched your face for something, before he said, “I’m glad you’re here.” That felt like a step closer, even though you two maintained the distance. 

“Me too,” you replied. “Good night.” 

“Good night.” 

‘Cheers chanted ‘cause they said, ‘“there was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league.”  Where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me.’ 

The last night of the fair blew in with a light breeze and a clear sky. You and Boone had raced to the grandstands and sat as close to the front as you could to get a good view of Tyler’s bull ride. Energy swirled across the bleachers, painting you in jovial unease. You bounced your knee and kept a steady gaze at each bull rider who attempted to win the prize. 

When Tyler’s turn came around, you weren’t sure you had ever cheered so loud for someone. He still wore his dirty pair of boots and hat that was nearly too small for his head, but he claimed they both were his good luck charms. Under the bright lights, he glowed with pure determination and pride. The entire time he was out there, you held your breath. It happened so fast. One second, they’re calling his number and the next he’s being announced as the winner. 

You stood up alongside Boone, hooting and hollering at the top of your lungs as Tyler smiled in disbelief at his luck. Through the people lining the stands, you raced down toward the fence that circled the ring. The crown nearly toppled from your head as you climbed the fence just enough to stand tall among the crowd. The excitement that filled you was on par with your own win earlier that week. 

The announcers stood in the middle of the corral, announcing the prize as you locked eyes with Tyler. He broke out in a grin when his eyes met yours, even bigger than the smile of a winner he already held. As he was supposed to stay with the announcers to claim his prize, he took off toward you instead. 

He climbed the fence on the opposite side, meeting you eye to eye a couple of feet off of the ground. You threw your arms around him, a little unsteadily. Above the cheers from the crowd, you spoke into his ear, “You did it!” 

Tyler pulled back just lightly, just enough to see your face. His eyes shined, stary and bright, chest heaving with excitement and adrenaline. For a second, he just stared at you, looking for something until he found it in the twitch of your lips and the reflective shine in your eyes. He crashed into you, kissing you quick and sweet. 

All in a quick second, somewhere over the speakers the announcers laughed, the flash of a camera went off, and Tyler pulled away before racing back to claim his prize. You stood in a daze, fuzzy-headed and lovesick. 

‘Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?’ 

You still had the photo of your and Tyler’s first kiss. You kept it in the locket he got you for your birthday. You never wore it; it never left your jewelry box. But for some reason, it had found its way in with the other jewelry you packed for your trip. How, you weren’t sure, but as you got ready for the next day, you found it. You traced your finger across the small heart, almost missing a light knock at your door. 

It wasn’t until your name was called that you snapped out of your daze and rushed to the door to find your brother. Boone greeted you with a cup of coffee before he pushed his way into your room and jumped onto the bed with a tired huff. 

“Ready for day two? Rader’s lookin’ like we’ll have some good ones today,” he said. 

Sipping your coffee, you nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

He opened his mouth to say something else, but his hand knocked against the locket you left on your bed. He grabbed it before you could, holding it up to the light before his face filled with recognition. “Holy shit, you still have this thing.” You knew he only recognized it because you had talked about it non-stop after Tyler gave it to you. But to confirm his suspicions, he popped the locket open to reveal the little picture of you and Tyler inside. 

“I didn’t mean to pack it,” you blurted out. “I-I don’t…” You sighed heavily, plopping down next to him. Boone handed the locket back to you. 

“You know, he asks about you, a lot,” he said after a beat of quietly contemplating. “He tries to be nonchalant about it, but I think he forgets that I’ve known him forever. He’s not nearly as smooth about it as he pretends to be.” 

You fiddled with the necklace in your hands. A part of you didn’t believe your brother, even though he’d have no reason to lie. You opened your mouth to retort, brush off his words, but another knock echoed from your door. You kept the locket held in your palm as you opened it to see Tyler. 

Wide-eyed, you faltered in a greeting. Boone beat you two it, appearing from behind you with a stupid smile as he patted your shoulder. “I’ll meet you two downstairs,” he said, slipping out of the door past the two of you quickly, but shooting you a smirk before he disappeared down the stairs and towards to parking lot. 

The morning sun caught the metal locket, reflecting off of it and drawing Tyler’s attention right to the piece of jewelry. Before a greeting left his lips, he said, “You still have that?” 

“Yeah,” you replied with a sigh. “I couldn’t get rid of it after…” You two broke up in what was disguised as a mutual split but didn’t feel as much. The second you were out of Tyler’s sight after the conversation that ended it all, you bawled the whole drive home. Your momma had tried to console you, and Boone threatened to beat up his best friend, but nothing mended the split in your heart. Even a college fresh start didn’t quite rid Tyler from your mind. He had always been there, a ‘what-if’ and ‘what could have been.’ Getting rid of the locket felt like a final nail in the coffin that you couldn’t, even after all that time, make. 

He seemed touched by the sentiment, smiling softly down at the object in your hands. “I remember that old picture you used to keep in it,” he said. “The one of us at the rodeo. You know, my ma still has it on our fridge? She says it was because the only picture he had of that day, but I know she’s lying.” 

You unclipped the little latch on the side of the locket and flipped it open with your thumb to reveal the same photo that existed inside. A rush of different emotions you couldn’t quite pinpoint flashed across his face he as stared at the photo. You two had been so young, so flushed with pretty emotions. Just two kids not sure what love was but found themselves at the start of it. 

“I don’t know why I packed it,” you admitted. “I didn’t even know I’d be seein’ you until I landed, and Boone suckered me into chasing with you guys. I just…I’ve thought about this lot, an embarrassing number of times.” 

“Thought about what?” 

“Seeing you again. What’d I say to you. But, I’ll admit, actually seeing you in person again I…” You weren’t sure where the sudden rush of words found the confidence to leave your lips, but you knew they needed to get out. “I don’t know how you do it.” 

Tyler stepped closer to you, lingering in the doorway. His brows were pulled in confusion, but his eyes shined with something between his usual starriness and softness. “Do what?” 

“Just being ‘round you,” you sighed. “I feel like the girl in this picture again.” 

You half expected him to look at you with pity, gently let you down in the way only he could. Maybe you could catch an early flight back home and spend the rest of your life avoiding the boy you fell in love with as a teen who never quite left you. You’re sure Boone would understand, and he wouldn’t suggest you go with them again. It would be fine, really it would be. 

But Tyler didn’t. He reached out, brushing a thumb across your cheek before he let it rest cupping your jaw. There was a slight hesitance in his movement, giving you enough time to move away if your words hadn’t meant what he thought they did. But you stayed, and the second you smiled at him he closed the space between the two of you with a hot rush of feelings. His lips moved against yours with familiarity mixed with a newfound excitement as his hands held onto the side of your face like he was scared you’d slip away from him all over again. 

It felt like something that only happened once in a few lifetimes; almost too good to be true but standing right there.