#Remy Rides Again

[fountainpenguin]

I've been working on some other posts that delve into the rich families in FOP, so take some thoughts that've been eating at me out of context.

It is unfathomable to me how much better of a parent Dale is than both Remy’s parents combined.

Timmy wished for Remy to have more time to spend with his parents, and the universe decided that meant shipwrecking them together was the only possible way they wouldn't question spending time with their son. And according to Remy in "Remy Rides Again," that worked for 3 seconds before they ditched him despite all being shipwrecked on an island together, fighting for survival.

Dale just spends time with his son for free. He is paid $0 to do so... Yes, he's distracted and inattentive to him, but he lets Dev be near him. He gives him tasks... He explains things when Dev asks him questions. He greets his son when he comes home from being outside and asks how his afternoon was.

Wishing Dale had more time for his son is no guarantee good things would happen, but I don't think a shipwreck would've been required. He'd just... come out of his room.

Dale can absolutely be a better parent, and his neglect should not be excused, but comparatively... he is a functioning parent.

I think Remy's parents would pay someone to bury their son unmarked in the woods, but I do not think you could convince Dale to do that to Dev no matter how much you offered him. He's messed up, but he's not THAT messed up. That's his little guy! He's a Dimmadome...

Family history - and family future - is important to Dale in a way that it's straight-up not to the Buxaplentys, and that makes all the difference. Dale sends Dev to a private school (implied) and canonically makes donations to that school ("28 Puddings Later").

Like… Remy KNOWS his parents think he's a waste of time and space. They make this clear to him when they remind him he's not worth more than 2 minutes per day of their time. They can't even remember his name. At the end of "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary," Remy was delighted his dad called him Liam. Because it's wrong, but it was better than nothing.

Remy is literally the reason his parents survived. He foraged for food for them while they counted the money that survived the shipwreck. He's 11... That should not have been his responsibility.

Dale is always calling Dev by name. He also built the au pairs to look after him (implied), he takes Dev to events, he remembered his birthday this year and made an attempt to do something nice even if he couldn't be there in person…

Dev appreciates his dad and tells us flat-out he thinks he's cool... That's why finding out his dad cared more about boots broke his heart.

Remy wouldn't have bat an eye because it wouldn't have surprised him that his parents care more about money. He makes it very clear that he was still wearing rags when his mom opened a hotel. She was too, but still... He was just out there wandering the beach with a ripped-up shirt and no shoes and all she thought about was money...

Holy flip, the Buxaplentys are so bad...

[imaginedisish]

Unchained Melody (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Get ready to cry again. Here is the *what if you and Logan went to a wedding together* request. Heavily inspired by "Unchained Melody." That is such a Logan song and you cannot tell me otherwise. ENJOY!

Summary: You and Logan decide to go to Rogue and Remy's wedding together, but you don't know what together means. Logan helps to clarify...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT, thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), softdom!Logan, praise kink, cocky!Logan (literally), multiple orgasms, aftercare, Logan will do anything for you, afab!reader/f!reader, reader wears a dress, reader has hair (length/color/texture not described), feelings, so fluffy and cheesy, cursing, Scott is a little shit, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,452 I wanna dance with Logan

Maybe this was a mistake. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning around and around. You scan your face, check your hair, and smooth out your dress. Everything is in its right place. But, maybe, just maybe, this is all a mistake. 

You and Logan—somehow—came to the decision that you would go to Rogue and Remy’s wedding together. As in…

Together. 

And yet, you weren’t entirely sure what together truly entailed. Was this going to be a date? Or were you two simply going as friends? Friends friends friends. That god-awful, misery-inducing word you’re all too familiar with. Its meaning and restrictions haunted you as you got ready, and they’re still plaguing you now. You are so incredibly sick of being just friends with Logan. You want more—want him, all of him. But you can’t tell him how you feel—you can never find the words or the courage. 

So, you’re simply going to the wedding together, unlabeled out of fear of getting an answer you don’t want to hear. 

You slip on your heels, straightening out your gown one last time before heading towards the door. You take a deep breath, nervous beyond belief. You twist the knob, pulling the door open. 

And there he is on the other side, fist clenched like he was about to knock. Logan. He’s wearing a black suit, a bowtie tied perfectly at his neck. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Hi,” he husks, his eyes trailing up and down your body. He smiles softly as he meets your gaze. He shakes his head in awe. “You look beautiful.” 

“Oh, please I—” But he cuts you off, his hand reaching out to rest in the crook of your neck. “Really, you look beautiful. You always do.” Your breath hitches as his hand slides down your arm, his fingers intertwining with yours.

You take a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed by the contact and Logan’s words. “You look really great too,” you choke out, a slight tremble in your voice. “Perfect,” you say, and Logan tugs your hand, guiding you out the door and into the hallway.

Rogue had told you the wedding would be small—just her and Gambit’s closest friends and family on the grounds of the institute.  

Logan leads you down the stairs and out the back door of the mansion. The first thing you see are flowers; an absolute abundance of flowers. There are lilies and irises, asters and chrysanthemums. Daises, tulips, every single flower one can imagine—adorning tables, white tents, and planted in pots and boxes. It’s beautiful—a rainbow of colors and fragrances. The lawn has been transformed into a secret garden. 

Logan guides you down a cobblestone path toward a trellis covered in vines and wisteria. Surrounding the trellis on either side are rows of white, wooden chairs. You and Logan walk to the front row on Rogue’s side of the aisle and sit down next to Storm, Charles, and Jubilee.  You wave as you sit down. “You look amazing!” Jubilee shouts, reaching over Charles and Logan to get a better look at your dress. 

“You look beautiful too, Jubes,” you say, motioning in her direction. Logan sits back, slipping his hand from yours and draping his arm over your shoulder instead. Jubilee notices the movement, her eyes flickering between you and Logan, a small smile playing upon her lips. She winks at you and settles back into her seat. 

Footsteps sweep through the grass as people find their chairs. You struggle to ignore the warmth of Logan’s arm around your shoulder and the way it makes you feel—the soft circles he’s drawing into your bare skin. It’s like he needs the proximity, needs the touch. 

You can feel Logan lean in, his lips at the shell of your ear. “You are the most—”

“Wow,” a familiar voice interrupts Logan. You turn your head, and there’s Scott, with Jean just a few steps behind him. “Didn’t expect that.” He raises his brows and cocks his head to the side. 

“You need something, bub?” Logan asks, annoyance and irritation heavy in his voice. 

Scott swallows nervously as Jean chuckles behind him. He shakes his head and sits down next to you. “Nope, I just…” He trails off, looking towards the trellis. 

Logan leans forward, his arm still around your shoulder. “You just what?”

Scott throws his hands up, feigning innocence. “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

Logan leans back, squeezing your shoulder gently as he settles into the seat. You turn towards him, catching his gaze. You need to ask him what this is, even if it’s clear to him. It’s obviously something to everyone else. You part your lips, finding the courage to finally ask Logan what you two are. “Logan,” you whisper so only he can hear. “What is—"  

But the music starts up, a whimsical rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” filling the air as Hank walks down the aisle, stopping underneath the trellis. Next is Remy, in a cream-colored suit. He grins from ear to ear as he trails down the aisle, nodding to Charles as he steps under the arch. And finally, at the end of the aisle is Rogue. Her dress is bright white, lacey, and tight. She walks down, her bouquet of lilies of the valley and baby’s breath in hand. 

She meets Remy’s side, and the music stops. “Friends and family,” Hank starts, smiling widely at the crowd. “We have gathered here today for the marriage of two people who should have been married long ago.” The crowd chuckles as Hank goes on. “But it is always better late than never…”

He continues, talking about their story, their love. Hank—naturally—finds a few Shakespeare quotes to scatter throughout his speech. It’s incredibly cheesy, but it’s beautiful. And, as Remy and Rogue exchange vows, you can’t help but well up. Their admiration and passion for one another is so undeniably clear. They’re committed, a team, partners until the end. 

“I will always love you, chere,” Remy says, slipping the ring onto Rogue’s finger. 

A single tear slides down Rogue’s cheek. “And I will always love you, sugar,” Rogue says, placing the ring in her hand onto Remy’s finger next. 

You look up at Logan, and you notice that he’s looking down at you. There’s something in his eyes, but you can’t quite place it. He tugs you closer, his thumb still stroking your shoulder. 

Hank sniffles. “With the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Hank says, his voice shaky, his eyes glossed over, holding back tears. “You may now kiss the bride!” 

Remy wraps his arms around Rogue’s waist, and he dips her, his lips capturing hers. Everyone stands, clapping and cheering. You and Logan stand too, his arm falling from your shoulder, leaving you feeling cold despite the summer heat.

But as Rogue and Remy walk down the aisle, Logan’s arm wraps around your waist.  Rogue’s smile widens when she spots you, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. She laughs knowingly. Finally, she mouths to you, and blows you a kiss. The couple finishes their walk down the aisle, and they head into a nearby tent.  

Given that this is Rogue and Remy, the party starts right away. Music blares from the tent, and you can see the happy couple hitting the floor. You recognize the song immediately: “Take on Me” by Aha. Jean drags Scott across the grass to join them. Jubilee and some of the other kids trail behind. Charles, Storm, and Hank head over together. 

You look at Logan and smile, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him towards the tent. You can’t remember the last time you saw everyone this happy. It’s rare that you get to let loose, to have a good time. It warms your heart to see all the students dancing, to see them having a normal childhood experience. 

“Come on!” Jubilee calls. “Come dance!” She’s twirling around, dancing with Kurt and Morph, sparking her signature fireworks every now and then.

You squeeze Logan’s hand and pull him towards the dance floor. You’re shocked that he doesn’t drag his heels, that he doesn’t protest or tell you no—he lets you tug him onto the floor. You turn to face him, swaying to the synthy pop. Logan lifts his arm, twirling you around, laughing as you spin back to him. He grabs your other hand and bounces with you to the music.

“I didn’t know you liked dancing!” You shout over the song as Logan spins you again. 

He smirks, chuckling softly. “I don’t!” He shouts back, pulling you in and out to the beat. “But I like dancing with you.” He draws you in closer, letting go of your hands as his arms wrap around your waist instead.

You can feel the heat rising to your chest, spreading up your neck. The song fades out, and a much slower one starts up. “Something” by The Beatles echoes across the lawn. Rogue and Remy take the center of the floor, and everyone steps off, watching from the side. Logan guides you off the floor and towards your table, his hand in yours again.

“They’re beautiful,” you murmur. You see the way Remy looks at Rogue, the way they move as one, fluid unit. “Don’t you want something like that?” You ask, your gaze finding Logan’s. He has that look in his eyes again—all soft, relaxed, happy. 

Logan nods, squeezing your hand. “I think I’ve found it already.” 

Your lips part as you rack your brain for the right thing to say, your breath catching in your throat. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted—the words you’ve been waiting to hear. “Logan I—”

But Jubilee is grabbing your hand as the song changes. “If you’re not gonna dance with my girl, then I’m stealing her!” Jubilee calls out to Logan, pulling you onto the floor as “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valli rings out. 

“Jubes,” you protest. “Logan and I were actually talking about something kind of important and—”

“One song?” She begs, frowning, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. You look over at Logan, and he’s still standing where you left him, smiling widely. Dance with her, he mouths, arching his brows expectantly. 

“Fine,” you say, still looking at Logan. 

Jubilee cheers, taking your hands in hers, spinning you around. You jump with her, screaming the words. Logan watches from his seat. He loves the way you move, the way you shake your hips, the way you throw your head back and laugh. He can see how much fun you’re having, how happy you are. He can’t keep his eyes off you, can’t help but be mesmerized. And he knows—just by watching—that he wants to be with you forever. Longer than that. You’ve changed him, made him different. And all for the better. 

You look over at him, his arms crossed against his chest as his eyes follow your every move. He’s smiling widely, clearly getting a kick out of you. 

“He loves you, you know,” Jubilee says, twirling you. “I mean, just look at how he’s looking at you!” Jubilee smirks, nodding towards Logan. Her eyes widen. “I think he’s coming over here!”

“Jubes…” Logan chides as he steps closer to the two of you. “Think I can cut in?”

“I don’t know Logan,” Jubilee says sarcastically, grinning ear to ear. “We’re having a great time.”

Logan puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’d like my girl back now.” 

My girl. His girl. 

Jubilee lifts her hands, stepping away from you as the song fades out. “Fine,” she says, pretending to be heartbroken. “Guess I’ll just have to give her up.” Logan steps between the two of you, and you lean to the side to peer at Jubilee as she walks away. She catches your glance, thrusting two thumbs up, mouthing a You got this! as she wanders to her seat. 

“Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers starts up, and Logan wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest. The sun is setting in the distance, a honeyed glow washing across the lawn, painting the tent and the dance floor in golden light. Logan sways you from side to side, and you let your head fall to his shoulder. 

His lips find the shell of your ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers so that only you can hear. 

“Lo, before, when we were watching Remy and Rogue…” you pause, lifting your head to look up at him. 

The corners of his mouth turn up. “I meant what I said,” Logan rasps. “I want you.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Just you.”

“I want you too,” you say, your voice soft and breathy. Logan holds you tighter, his lips just inches away from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your face. 

“Wanted you the whole time,” Logan husks, rocking you gently as the song plays out. “You’re all I ever think about. I can’t get through a day without seeing you, without talking to you.” He pauses as the music grows louder, the strings and piano echoing across the dance floor.

Woah, my love, my darling I've hungered, hungered for your touch A long, lonely time And time goes by so slowly And time can do so much Are you still mine?

“You feel like home,” he says, his eyes glossing over. “I’ve been alive a long time, and for once in my life, I finally understand what that word means. It’s you. This is what love is supposed to feel like.” He pauses again, taking a deep breath, his jaw working. “I love you, so goddamn much.”

“I love you too,” you confess. “More than anything.” 

And then his lips are on yours, and suddenly everything is nothing. The people around you are gone. Your problems have long melted away. Every ounce of pain and every second of suffering you’ve ever felt—that he has ever experienced—are forgotten. It’s all warmth and comfort, languid and slow, but passionate. He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. It’s perfect. Beyond perfect. 

His lips part from yours, and he looks down at you, taking you in, committing the moment to memory. “Pretty girl,” Logan mumbles, tugging you off the floor as the song fades out and a pop song starts up. “What if we slipped away for a few minutes?” 

“O-okay,” you stutter as Logan guides you past your table and out of the tent. The bass of the music echoes across the lawn as you and Logan wander hand in hand toward the mansion.  

He pushes the back door open, leading the two of you inside, and immediately pins you against the wall. “This okay, sweetheart?” Logan asks, holding your hands above your head, his fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists. 

“Yes,” you breathe, your chest heaving against his. He closes the gap between you completely, his lips pressing to yours. It’s hurried now, hungry and frantic. His knee nudges between your legs, spreading you open. You can feel the fire burning in your core—the growing ache. 

You squirm underneath him, your arms fidgeting against his hold, longing to reach out and touch him. “Wanna make you feel good first, princess,” Logan soothes, his grip on your wrists tightening. “Let me take care of you.” You can’t help but grind down on his thigh at his words. 

“Lo,” you whine, searching for more friction. “Please, need you.” Logan swallows your moans with a kiss, his lips melting against yours. “I know, darlin’. I need you too,” he coos. “But I like watching you get off on my thigh,” he says cockily. “That feel good?” He pushes his thigh harder between your legs as you slide up and down. 

“Y-yes,” you stammer, rolling your hips. “N-need more.” 

“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Logan whispers, leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck, softly biting that sweet spot underneath your ear. “Gonna make this pussy feel good.” He lets go of your wrists as he slides down your body, hiking your dress up above your hips as he kneels in front of you.

Logan yanks your panties down your legs, leaving your core bare in front of him. “Wanna taste you, pretty girl,” he husks, his breath fanning against your heat as he settles between your thighs. 

“Please,” you beg, his face just centimeters from where you need him most. His palms splay across your inner thighs, squeezing and nudging you open. You look down at him, hunger, desire, and desperation darkening his half-lidded eyes. “Lo—”

And then he’s licking a long stripe through your folds, his tongue flicking your clit. You shudder underneath his touch as he does it again, his tongue pressing harder this time. 

“Tastes so fucking good,” Logan mumbles against you. “Knew you’d taste perfect.” He pulls your clit between his lips and sucks, his teeth grazing the bud lightly. Your knees buckle at the sensation. 

Logan pushes your legs further apart, one of his hands sliding up your thigh and toward your center. It’s teasing, achingly slow as his fingers finally reach your folds, toying with your slit and spreading your slick. He laps at your clit, and he’s desperate, ravenous, his mouth swallowing you hungrily.

He teases your entrance with two fingers—gentle compared to the way his teeth graze your clit, to the way he’s sucking every last drop you have to give him. You part your lips, ready to beg for him, but he’s thrusting his long fingers inside you—down to his knuckles—only to pull out and pump back in again. 

You moan his name, your back arching off the wall, your thighs trembling as he fucks into you. Logan smiles against you. “That feel good, pretty girl?” He asks, his fingers pumping in and out of your entrance at a rhythmic pace.

“S-so good, Logan,” you say, your voice shaky and uneven. His tongue flits out, flicking your clit before his lips wrap around the bud. He sucks again, harder this time, longer, his face buried deep inside your cunt, like he needs this. Needs to feel every inch of you. To explore you. To remember you. Your heart thunders in your chest as he thrusts in and out, his fingers hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. 

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him, taking him deeper. Logan laughs against you, the vibration rolling through your body in waves. “I know you’re getting closer, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, lapping at you between sentences. He looks up at you under those dark, hooded eyes as he plunges into you. “Let me get you there, wanna taste it when you come.”

You flutter around him again, his words threatening to spill the heat building at the bottom of your belly. “Lo,” you whimper as he brings a third finger to your entrance. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, say my name,” he demands, shoving the third finger deep inside on his next pump. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter, your legs shaking as you chant his name. Logan Logan Logan. 

“So fucked out that I’m all you can think about, huh?” Logan teases, edging you closer along. You moan in affirmation as Logan laves at you, stuffing his fingers deep inside. “So fucking beautiful,” he praises. “Doing so good for me.”

“L-Lo,” you choke out, clenching down around him. “I’m so close.”

You can feel yourself coming undone, melting into nothingness as he rams into you, sucking your clit roughly. “I know, princess. Let go for me, wanna feel you come on my fingers.”

Your hips buck and your legs tremble as you fall apart. Your orgasm crashes into you, pleasure coursing through your veins. Logan works you through it, his face still buried between your legs. His tongue laps at you softly, his fingers pumping slowly until they stall inside you. 

His gaze meets yours as he pulls his fingers out of your cunt and brings them to his mouth. His lips wrap around his fingers, and he sucks, savoring your release. He pulls his fingers out with a pop as he stands up. 

Logan presses his forehead to yours. “You know, there’s something else I want,” Logan says, his voice deep and raspy. “I’m not done with you yet.” He cages you in, a hand on either side of your head. 

“W-we need to be careful,” you stammer, nodding towards the door. “Someone could come in and—” Logan cuts you off. “Locked it the second we came inside, sweetheart,” Logan whispers, grabbing your dress and bunching it up around your waist. “No one’s coming in here. It’s just you and me, princess.” Logan pushes his hips into yours, and you can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his slacks. “Need you, darlin’.”

You wrap your arms around Logan’s back. “Need you too,” you pant. Logan’s lips find yours, crashing down needily, starvingly. He swallows your moans, one hand still collecting the fabric of your dress while his other tugs at his belt. He throws it to the floor with a clink and works at his button and zipper, pulling his pants and boxers down his legs. He hoists you up, one hand gripping your ass tightly, pushing your back against the wall for leverage.

“Fuck,” Logan curses, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance. Everything is rushed and frantic. He needs to be inside you, needs to feel you, needs to be as close to you as possible. His head slides through your folds, spreading your slick. “Wanted this for so long,” Logan huffs, his tip slipping into your slit. “My girl.”

With one thrust, he sinks himself deep inside you—down to the hilt. You’re suddenly so full, so whole. “Yours,” you answer as he pulls out and thrusts back in, somehow deeper this time. He’s everywhere and he’s everything. “All yours.”

Logan curses under his breath, panting your name as he sets a brutal pace. “Mine,” he growls between placing open-mouthed kisses to the crook of your neck. “All fucking mine.” His free hand slips between your bodies, finding your clit and drawing tight, rapid circles around the bud. 

You dig your nails into his suit jacket as he splits you open. You want to feel him—to feel his skin, his chest pressed against yours. But this will have to do for now. 

“Next time,” he mumbles, knowing exactly what you’re silently asking for. “You can have more of me next time, okay sweetheart?”

Next time. The words replay in your head as he fucks into you, taking everything you have to give. He knows you so well, already knows every curve and inch of your body, knows your dreams and desires. You fit, like two puzzle pieces, like magnets finally drawing together. 

His thumb brushes your clit soothingly before pinching roughly, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. Logan thrusts in and out, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the foyer. 

“Feels so good, pretty girl,” Logan groans. “So fucking perfect, so tight.” Your walls flutter around him, and he grunts as you squeeze him. “Taking me so well.” 

You’re already close, every thrust bringing you to the edge, every flick of your clit sending you spiraling. It’s all too much. And it’s all because of him. 

“Lo,” you whine, his hips rocking into yours, his cock dragging along your walls. “I’m so…” You trail off, squeezing him again, taking him deeper. 

He moans your name, sinking inside you and pulling back out. “I know, princess, me too,” he murmurs, his pace faltering, his hips sputtering. “Come on my cock, wanna feel it,” he pants. “Wanna feel you. Forever.”

And then the tension snaps, heat spilling out of you as Logan thrusts again. He’s throbbing inside you, close behind. Pleasure pulses through your body, wave after wave. You wrap your legs tighter around Logan’s waist, keeping him close as he spills inside you, filling you up. He chants your name, his forehead pressing to yours, looking deep into your eyes as he comes undone.

Your chests heave together, sharing the same breath. His cock is still inside you. Everything is calm. Quiet. “So perfect,” Logan breathes, his lips finding yours again. “So fucking perfect.” He finally slips out of you and sets you down on the ground, keeping your dress bunched up around your waist. 

He leans over to the side, grabs a paper towel from a conveniently placed nearby roll, and sinks down to his knees. He’s cleaning you up, taking care of you, wiping away the mess spilling down your legs. He pulls your panties back up and kisses each of your thighs before standing and tossing the paper towel into the garbage by the door. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting your dress go. He fixes each of your straps, straightening them out, and smooths out your dress. “Beautiful,” he praises, swallowing harshly, as if he’s holding himself back from reaching out and taking you again. Part of you wishes he would.

But he bends over and pulls his pants and boxers up, tucking in his shirt, zippering and buttoning his slacks, and securing his belt back in place. He’s still a little disheveled—sweat on his brow, his hair out of place. But he looks perfect. He looks just like him. 

“You ready to go back out?” He asks, taking your hand in his. You nod and let him lead you outside and towards the tent. 

You find your seats just as dinner is being served. “Where’d you two go?” Scott asks, arching a brow. 

“Got a little too hot,” Logan says, smirking to himself. He finds your thigh under the table, squeezing gently, possessively. “Needed a break from the heat.”

You hum in affirmation, turning your head towards Logan. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “That’s one way to put it,” you whisper so that only he can hear. 

He squeezes your thigh again, harder this time. His lips find the shell of your ear as the rest of the table starts up a conversation. “You’re coming back to my room tonight,” he husks. “Got it?” You can feel the heat rising to your chest as he separates from you. 

You nod, his hand still on your thigh. 

“Good, because I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @starfleetteddybear @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @cosmiccandydreamer @Movhoney.

[dinogoofymutated]

You want X-Men requests? Well, I think I've got a few kicking around for our favorite Cajun.

Ok, so this is NSFW but like...imagine overstimulated Gambit to the point where he can only speak garbled French? Idk, I think that's super hot.

YES OMG YES. I absolutely love this idea I ran with it SO QUICK! I'm Southern, but not necessarily the Cajun flavor of Southern, so I tried to use a translator/dictionary for Cajun-French. There's not really a translator for cajun dialect specifically, so forgive me for some mistakes. I tried my best ;-;

Tw: MDNI. NSFW. Creampie, Overstim, Praise kink (kinda). Reader written while picturing AFAB but no genitals specified. No pronouns specified. Soft dom!reader

Anyone looking outside-in on Gambit's relationships would think that the man is a player, due to his flirty nature, and he could be to an extent, but you know otherwise.

Remy LeBeau was a lover boy. Sure he showed out a lot by flirting, but at the end of the day it's you he's coming home to. The moment someone tries to make a move on him and flirting goes to touching, you know he's shutting that shit down quick.

He was all talk, and you were happy to find out that extends to the bedroom.

Now having said this, it's not that Remy was a liar. He's incredible at sex, but at the end of the day when he's with someone he truly loves, his walls come down. Loverboy was putty in your hands the moment you decided to grace him with your love and praise.

"Plus, donnez-m'en un de plus, s'il vous plaît." Remy is trembling underneath you, head tossed back into the pillow and twitching inside you still as he cums hard. His hands are clenched around your thighs, grip loose enough for you to grind on him slowly as he comes down from his high.

"Remy, I can't understand you." You say softly, cocking your head at him as you brush some hair out of his face. He leans into your touch, chest still heaving. He mumbles something else you can't quite catch, before repeating "donnez-m'en un de plus, donnez-m'en un de plus." Again and again.

"Reeemmmy~" You smile, rocking back against him just slightly to make him groan and curse, before leaning forward to kiss him on the chin. He tries to catch you in a real kiss, but you don't let him, choosing to hover over his lips teasingly. "English, please, sweetheart."

"Je commence Cher, don't tease." Remy whines, leaning forward again. You let him kiss you this time, unable to stop yourself from giving into Remy's charms. You grind onto him a little more to hear him moan and gasp into the kiss, and his grip on your thighs gets a little tighter. He mumbles again in Cajun, and you shake your head at him. He'd been trying to teach you, but you still weren't quite fluent. You decide you should ask him to teach you bedroom phrases soon. It'd make this a whole lot easier- but you wouldn't lie, you almost enjoy teasing him like this.

"One more, Cher. Please. Please, give me another one." Remy finally grunts. He looks at you with those pretty eyes of his, all blurry with his pupils dilated. You can't help but lean in and kiss him a few more times. You lift your hips, before sinking back down onto his cock with a little more force this time. He gasps out a broken "merci! merci," tears starting to trail down his cheeks as you start to ride him again.

"Oh- Only because you asked... so nicely." You moan. It's a struggle to get the words out, fighting your own oversensitivity, but hearing Remy crumble beneath you is worth how sore you would be in the morning ten times over.

[candymothster]

‎‎ 💋Kinktober 2024🍒‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎

EXTREME NSFW WARNING!! MDNI!!

A/N: I am starting VERY late for this year's kinkober! But here is my 2024 masterlist this year! I can't wait to work on this big writing project! Can ya’ll also figure out what special interest I’m into again?

All fics will be posted on both Tumblr and AO3 with respective links.

Edit: Please let me know if you’d like to be in the taglist!

Buy Me A Kofi❤️️ My AO3 Acc❤️️Masterlist❤️️

Day 1 Breast Worship - Scott Summers X Reader Post|AO3

Day 2 Double Penetration - young!Charles Xavier x Reader x young!Erik Lehnsherr

Day 3 Public Sex - tasm!Peter Parker x Reader

Day 4 Sensory Deprivation - priest!Matt Murdock x Reader

Day 5 Bondage - Eddie Brock x Reader

Day 6 A/B/O Heat/Rut - Logan Howlett x Reader

Day 7 Virgin - Nightcrawler x Reader

Day 8 Cock Warming - Charles Xavier x Reader

Day 9 Praise Kink - Nightcrawler x Reader

Day 10 Overstimulation - Wade Wilson x Reader

Day 11 Knife Play - Logan Howlett x Reader

Day 12 Sex Toys - Remy LeBeau x Reader

Day 13 Aftercare - tasm!Peter Parker x Reader

Day 14 Candle-Wax Play/Temperature Play - Bobby Drake x Reader

Day 15 Glory Hole - Wade Wilson x Reader

Day 16 Cock Worship - Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Day 17 Dom-Sub - Remy LeBeau x Reader

Day 18 Cock ring/Plugs - Nightcrawler x Reader

Day 19 Mirror Sex/Masturbation - Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant

Day 20 Threesome - Logan Howlett x Reader x Scott Summers

Day 21 Monsterfucking - werewolf!Steve Rogers x Reader

Day 22 Thigh Riding/Fucking - Peter Maximoff x Reader

Day 23 Breeding - Hank McCoy x Reader

Day 24 Somnophilla - Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Day 25 Non Con/Dub Con - Victor Creed x Reader

Day 26 Pegging - Remy LeBeau x Reader was

Day 27 Hate Fucking/Angry Sex - Scott Summers X Reader

Day 28 Impact Play - Wade Wilson x Reader

Day 29 Hunter-Prey - Logan Howlett x Reader

Day 30 Sex Pollen - Peter Maximoff x Reader

Day 31 First Time - Warren Worthington III x Reader

Top Divider By @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Rose Divider by me :)

[taintandviolent]

for the smut drabble: remy/reader with #36 please, cuz goddamn that man's hands are definitely nsfw 🥵

warnings: fingering (female receiving), pet names, light praise, writing these at work so possible clunky writing

“Tell ‘da Gambit what you want, cher…”

The sultry tone in his voice demands honesty — none of your shy, vague responses will suffice here. It takes a few moments to muster up the courage and find your voice again, but finally, you straighten up, pulling your mouth away from his warm neck.

“Want your fingers inside me,” you reply, practically whimpering. You rut your hips desperately against his thigh, feeling the growing wet spot as the fabric bunches against your core.

“‘Dat’s a good girl, huh…?” As he speaks, his hand drifts between your legs, and you press your knees into the sofa, giving him some room to work. You’re already reeling from the praise, but the contact makes you mewl with pleasure. He palms your cunt from the outside, rubbing the ball of his hand against her, while his fingers gently graze lower. You know he’s felt the damp fabric, as they hesitate on the wet spot, then begin stroking it gently. The small, seemingly passive action sends a shockwave rippling through your core. You whimper loud, an undeniable, hungry heat pooling between your legs.

With a newfound desperation, you shudder against his touch and roll your hips, bucking her forward and forcing more pressure. He chuckles below you, and with ease, navigates his fingers into the elastic of your panties.

Ample slickness meets the tips of his fingers, having already worked yourself up by riding his thigh for an hour, but when he touches you, your breath hitches in your throat. He plays with your folds, almost curiously, smearing your arousal around the warm, wet flesh. His middle finger flicks between, grazing your puffy clit on the way up. He touches you with agonizing tenderness and it has you clenching your teeth, begging for more.

Suddenly, he’s encircling it with the pad of his finger, working it in small ovals. Your legs shake at the feeling, and you can’t help but let out a keening moan.

His middle finger drops and pushes into your entrance slowly, breaching the dripping slit. He feels the clench of your cunt and sinks another in, stuffing them inside past the knuckle. You’ve fingered yourself many times, but the girth that two of his fingers have on your smaller ones? Astounding. They’re determined, curling up inside you to find the spongy flesh that’ll make you writhe away from him.

He alternates between rubbing your g-spot and hammering them into you, clear arousal stringing from his fingers every time he pulls back. His thumb bumps into your sensitive clit as he moves and whether that’s intentional or not, you don’t know. You assume it is. The effect is dizzying. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder, your chest heaving with ragged breaths.

“You’re so… fucking good with your hands… oh my god…!”

Amidst a chuckle, he says: “Mais oui… dat’s kinda’ my thing, cher.”

If they weren’t already rolling back in your head, you would’ve rolled your eyes at his cockiness, but he’s so good. So good and you find yourself meeting his motions, undulating your hips to push his fingers deeper each time.

The wide pad of his thumb presses into your clit and wiggles back and forth, applying a new sort of pressure that has your cunt fluttering around his fingers. “Oh, ffffuck-“

“Lemme’ hear it.” he barks, his lips close to your ear.

Your mouth opens wide and a shaky, quivering moan tumbles out as you come around his fingers, coating them in viscous fluid. You collapse against his shoulder to the sound of him chuckling heartily, and steady your own breathing. You feel his fingers leave you with a wet sound, and by the way he’s moving his arm, you can tell he’s looking at the glaze that now coats his digits.

“Mon coeur liked ‘dat, huh? Made a big ol’ mess.”

[urdreamydoodles]

Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x Fem!Reader

You're a little drunk but under the protection of none other than The Gambit

After a night out with Remy, you find yourself slightly tipsy and in need of protection when a few strangers try to take advantage of your state. Remy steps in to defend you, leading to a playful, tension-filled moment as he gives you a piggyback ride back to the mansion.

The night was warm, the streetlights casting a golden glow over the cobblestone paths as you walked beside Remy through the lively streets of New Orleans. The evening had been fun, filled with laughter and teasing banter, but as the night wore on, you could feel the warmth of the drinks you’d had settling into your bones. Remy had taken you out to a few of his favorite bars, and you’d both indulged in more than a couple of rounds. You weren’t exactly drunk, but the alcohol had left you feeling light, your steps a little unsteady and your head pleasantly fuzzy.

Remy, of course, was as collected as ever. The man could handle his liquor with the same smooth confidence that he handled everything else. He walked beside you with that lazy swagger of his, hands tucked into his pockets as he kept an eye on you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes kept flicking over to you, as if making sure you were okay, but his expression remained easy, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Y’ doin’ alright, chère?" His voice was low and soft, carrying that unmistakable Cajun drawl that always sent a little shiver down your spine. He stepped a little closer, his arm brushing against yours.

You nodded, a little giggle escaping your lips as you stumbled slightly, catching yourself on his arm. "Yeah, I’m fine," you said, though your balance was clearly not cooperating. "Maybe I had one too many drinks, though."

Remy chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he steadied you. "Maybe, but I gotta say, y’ a cute drunk, chérie. Could watch y’ like this all night."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. There was that familiar spark in his eyes, the one that always made your breath catch in your throat. The tension between you two had been building for weeks now, unspoken but undeniable. Every touch, every glance seemed to carry more weight lately, and you weren’t sure how much longer either of you could ignore it.

"Careful, Remy," you teased, though your voice was softer than you intended. "You keep talkin’ like that, and I might start thinkin’ you’ve got a crush on me."

His grin widened, his arm slipping around your waist to help steady you as you both continued down the street. "A crush, chère? Oh, I think it might be a lil’ more than that."

The way he said it made your stomach flutter, and you found yourself leaning into him a little more as you walked. You’d always been close with Remy, but lately, the air between you had shifted. You couldn’t deny the attraction anymore, and neither could he. It was like every moment with him crackled with electricity, the space between you charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

As the two of you neared a street corner, you stumbled slightly again, your balance thrown off by the uneven pavement and the lingering buzz from the drinks. Before you could fully recover, a couple of guys who had been loitering near the bar turned their attention to you. They were clearly a little too interested in your unsteady steps, their eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin crawl.

"Hey there, sweetheart," one of them called, stepping forward as he eyed you up and down. "Need a hand? Looks like you’re havin’ a hard time walkin’ on your own."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Remy’s arm tightened around you, pulling you a little closer to his side. His entire demeanor shifted in an instant, the easygoing charm replaced with something harder, more dangerous. He shot the men a warning look, his red-on-black eyes narrowing.

"Don’t worry ‘bout her, homme," Remy said, his voice low and edged with a quiet threat. "She’s with me."

The guy sneered, clearly not taking the hint. "Oh yeah? She don’t look like she’s with anyone. Maybe she wants a real man to help her out."

Before you could react, Remy stepped forward, his body positioning itself between you and the men. His eyes flashed dangerously, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. He didn’t need to say anything more. His presence alone was enough to make the men think twice, and after a moment of hesitation, they backed off, muttering something under their breath before disappearing back into the bar.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your heart racing a little faster in your chest. Remy turned back to you, his expression softening as his eyes met yours. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a small smile as if to reassure you that everything was alright.

"You okay, chère?" he asked, his voice gentle again, the protective edge gone now that the threat had passed.

You nodded, a little breathless from the sudden shift in the mood. "Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for… that."

He waved it off, his grin returning. "Ain’t nothin’. Nobody’s gonna mess with y’ while I’m around."

The sincerity in his words made your heart squeeze, and for a moment, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to have him in your life like this all the time. Remy was always there for you, always watching out for you, and lately, it was starting to feel like more than just friendship. You weren’t sure how he felt, but the way he looked at you sometimes, the way he was looking at you right now… it made you wonder.

"You look like y’ need a ride, chérie," Remy said suddenly, breaking the silence. Before you could protest, he crouched down in front of you, patting his shoulders. "Hop on. I’ll get y’ back to the mansion safe and sound."

You blinked, surprised. "A piggyback ride? Really?"

He shot you a wink over his shoulder. "Trust me, it’s the best way to travel when y’ a lil’ tipsy. C’mon, I won’t drop y’. Promise."

Despite yourself, you giggled, the warmth of the drinks making you feel a little more carefree than usual. With a playful roll of your eyes, you climbed onto his back, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands settled on your thighs to keep you steady. The closeness of his body against yours sent a jolt of heat through you, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else. It was just you and Remy, the night air cool against your skin as he carried you across the street.

His muscles flexed beneath you, the strength in his body obvious as he moved with effortless grace. The warmth of his skin against your own was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. The tension between you simmered just beneath the surface, and you wondered if he could feel it too, the way your heart was racing in your chest.

"You comfortable back there, chère?" Remy’s voice broke through your thoughts, teasing as always.

You smiled, your fingers tightening slightly around his shoulders. "Yeah, I’m comfortable."

He chuckled, his hands shifting slightly on your thighs as he walked. "Good, ‘cause I gotta say, I could get used to carryin’ y’ around like this."

The playful tone in his voice made you blush, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face. "Remy, you’re impossible."

"Only ‘round y’, chère," he said softly, his voice dropping just a little, enough to make your heart skip a beat.

For the rest of the walk back to the mansion, neither of you spoke, but the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, with feelings that neither of you had voiced yet. As Remy carried you through the quiet streets, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep pretending that this was just friendship, that the tension between you didn’t mean something more. Because if tonight had proven anything, it was that the line between friends and something more had never been thinner.

[apple-jorts]

Petition to shoot norm down with a loaded handgun

And juandissimo, cupid can be spared for now 🩷

he has the worst fronts views.

Fop in general just has really bad front views

[laurawaldorf]

Hello! Finally our little Em Fanfic Fandom have more writers!

Can I request 000's Eminem falling for Rockstar!Reader that have a baby (Baby Daddy no present) she always bring everywhere and even steals some attetion to him? :b

🎸⋆°. 𝗦𝗡𝗔𝗣 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗜𝗧.

⠀⠀────────────────────

| 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: Marshall Mathers III (Eminem) x Rockstar!Fem!Reader.

| 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: Fluffy.

| 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: N/A.

| 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗: yes.

| 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: Snap Out Of It — Arctic Monkeys.

( hey! i loved your request, I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you like it. 🤍 )

⠀⠀────────────────────

The noise of screams and applause filled the structure of the stadium where your rock band performed, you looked kindly at all the people who admired your art as you said goodbye with a wide smile after ending your show in New York.

— Thank you everyone for your support! Tonight was a very special night for us, New York! — You expressed with a vibrant smile, listening to all the love your fans had for you and your band.

The stage lights went dark, and you went backstage where your band team was with your youngest daughter, Remy, just two years old. You've always attracted a lot of attention in the industry, for being a successful rock singer with a successful band and a single mother who would do anything for your daughter, something Remy's father wouldn't do the same, he never did the least to get to know her after birth, leaving you alone to take care of a child, however, you did everything you could to fulfill your part of being a mother and a father in your daughter's life even with your busy schedule.

A happy smile spread across your lips as you picked up your daughter, your eyes sparkled when you saw that little child who had saved your life in so many ways. The other band members had the same loving smile for your daughter. The bassist, Mandy, approached Remy with a sweet smile.

— She's so cute! — Mandy said, stroking the little child's cheeks. — I saw a recording of her playing with the guitars, it was really cute!

You responded to the bassist with a smirk, looking up at the other woman, listening to the baby giggles that your daughter gave when she felt Mandy's touch on her cheeks.

— She sure is, Remy is passionate about guitars, maybe I'll give her one as a gift for her birthday. — You replied, turning your gaze to the child again.

On the other side of the dressing room, the guitarist named Axel who was adjusting the strings on his guitar was smiling at you and Remy.

— Maybe she'll be a guitarist like me, I'm really incredible. — He said in a cocky and fun way, making you laugh. — Yo, there's going to be a party at Dr Dre's mansion in a little while… are you going?

Mandy just let out a sideways smile and crossed her arms, throwing herself onto the small sofa there:

— I still don't know how you have contact with these Hip-Hop people...but I will go, will you, Y/N? — The bassist asked, looking up at you.

You continued to look at the girl in your arms, with your lips pressed together as you rubbed the back of your head in a tone of doubt.

— I will stay, Remy must be tired and she has school tomorrow...I'll stay at home. — You explained, raising your gaze to the two members who looked at him with an understanding look.

— That's fair. — Axel paused with a light sigh. — So, Mandy now call the other members because our car should already be waiting.

— Okay, we'll give you two a ride too, Y/N. — Mandy said, looking at Remy with a smirk.

⠀⠀────────────────────

After a few weeks of your show, your performance was a complete success, it became news in all media and tabloids in all magazines. Your band's songs were played on different types of radio, from rock to pop, and it was also a constant question for some artists in interviews.

You were in your large apartment in downtown New York, in the kitchen as you prepared lunch for you and Remy while your daughter watched a random cartoon in the living room. You cut the vegetables and put them in the pan with bubbling water, your radio on the counter played some songs until you started an interview with Eminem, the rapper who was at the height of his career like you and who had already mentioned you in some songs.

You didn't pay much attention to the interview until the people hosting the interview mentioned your show and you, which made your interest grow quickly and take your attention completely to the radio.

— Yo, Em, I don't know if you're probably aware, but Y/N did a wonderful show a few weeks ago, we were impressed with how she managed to give such an authentic and captivating performance even though she just entered the industry. You've already mentioned her in some of your songs, how do you feel about her? — The interviewer asked, his voice squeaking slightly over the sound of the radio.

— To be more exact, I really admire what she and her band do. I was at the show with Proof watching her and it was…wow. As an artist, she has a lot of potential, and as a father...I see her as an inspiration, even though she is a single mother and has a huge career, she manages to be present in her daughter's life, and that is something to admire...In fact, If Y/N needs a candidate to be her daughter's stepfather, I'll volunteer. — Marshall said, in a joking tone that made all the interviewers laugh at the situation.

The whole situation left you with rosy cheeks and a silly smile on your lips, Marshall seemed like a nice guy, and who was also going through the same situation of being a single father after his divorce with his ex-wife, Kimberly. You felt a depth of truth behind his playful words, and that typical feeling of butterflies began to form in your stomach.

Your thoughts were quickly cut short after the sound of the landline telephone in the hallway of the apartment began to echo through the wall, making you turn off the stove and wipe your hands on the cloth on the counter, going over to the device.

Your hands went to the phone and placed it in your left ear, your silly smile remained on your face without realizing it.

— Hello?- — You were quickly interrupted by Mandy's excited voice coming from the other end of the line.

— Did you see what Eminem said about you on the radio? Girl, he's so into you! — The bassist's lively voice was mixed with some laughter.

You tilted your head slightly to the left side, pressing the fingers of your free hand to your lips.

— I saw…and did you see that he was at our show? But he was just joking, don’t be crazy. — You shrugged your shoulders, trying to convince yourself that it was just his joke.

However, Mandy wasn't convinced, she just rolled her eyes and snorted upon hearing your comment.

— You're always like that...it's clear he wants to talk to you! Look, Axel said that 50 is going to have a party and Eminem will be there, you go and I'll take care of Remy without any problems, you need to go! — The other woman said, you could feel her mischievous smile on the other end of the phone line.

Internally, you felt like you were going to explode. Your mind screamed for you to go and your skin heated up just thinking about talking to him, the blush on your cheeks became even more apparent and your smile grew even more.

— Okay...when is this party? I'll try to go. — You said in a shy tone, letting out a shaky breath.

The bassist let out a scream of joy upon hearing your question, and a proud smile formed on her lips.

— This Saturday! You have to go, choose your best outfit! — Ordered the other woman, ending the call without giving you a chance to respond or argue against it.

⠀⠀────────────────────

The noise of Hip-Hop music and people having fun filled the air at 50 Cent's mansion, where the grand party that Mandy had mentioned to you days before was taking place.

You looked around and saw different artists having fun, drinking and even kissing in the corners of the room. You leaned on the bar counter in the center of the living room, while adjusting a black mini skirt and your black leather jacket with burgundy red details. In the other corner of the room, Marshall Mathers was watching you with a smirk on his lips, his gaze discreetly admiring your face and body, and by his side, there was his best friend Proof, who was observing the scene.

Without patience, Proof took his hands to the other rapper's shoulders and shook him lightly, making Eminem's gaze go to him.

— Are you going to stare at her like a idiot or go talk to her? — The boy asked, pulling his best friend out of his mental trance.

Marshall just muttered a small “Hm?” and again raised his gaze to you, swallowing dryly.

— I don't know, man... I don't know if she liked the “joke” I made on the radio. — Said the rapper, shrugging his shoulders and taking some of his drink to clear his throat.

The other boy just snorted and rolled his eyes, moving away from his best friend and looking up at you, letting out a sigh:

— If you don't go to her, she'll think you're just another cowardly dumbass! Go, man! — Proof replied, trying to encourage Marshall.

After a few minutes of mental preparation and encouragement from Proof, Eminem approached in slow and awkward steps, he quickened his breathing with each step he took and the closer he got to you.

You noticed someone approaching from behind, so you gently turned your head back and your gaze quickly landed on the rapper, which made your heart stop for a few seconds.

Marshall had the same reaction, his heart accelerated a little more when he saw your face and he felt his own body betray him, feeling his knees shaking as he tried to keep his posture upright.

— Yo, Y/N, right? — Marshall tried to start a conversation, feeling a spike of adrenaline in his heart palpitate.

Your hands felt cold and a shiver ran down your spine as you heard his voice mix with the sound of the party's loud music.

— Yes, it’s me... it's a pleasure to meet you, Marshall. — You replied, letting a sideways smile escape.

The blonde felt goosebumps on his skin when he heard you say his name, he knew he had a small crush on you...but he didn't know it was so intense.

— It’s nice to meet you too, so…I don’t know if you’ve listened to the radio lately, but I wanted to apologize if I offended you by the joke I made in that interview. — You could hear him slurring his own words in a nervous way, gesturing with his hands.

— It's okay, really. I even liked your joke, it was cute. — You answered him in the same way, your words escaping your mouths without thinking.

A spike of shame hit your heart as you realized what you had said, a red blush marked your cheeks as you widened your eyes slightly.

— Ah, so it's okay...do you mind if I buy you a drink? — The rapper asked, his nervousness slowly disappearing when he noticed the look on his face, his lips curling into a proud smile.

— I would love. — You replied, letting out a calm sigh.

⠀⠀────────────────────

The rest of the night went well, the conversation between you and Marshall flowed better than you expected.

It was interesting to see the industry's most feared rapper be so kind and completely interesting and funny. At the moment, you were outside the party, observing the dark sky full of stars contrasting with the lights that the buildings that New York emitted.

— So...I heard there's a super cool bar near here, want to go with me? Just the two of us. — Marshall said, stroking your right hand gently.

— I'd love to, Em. — You replied, intertwining your fingers with his.

[decentwritings]

Chapter 5

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

previous part <- -> next part

"Aww, man," you whine, crossing your arms over your chest childishly. "I missed a surveillance op?"

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed, while Tara finds your words amusing.

You all gather in your sister's home, in the kitchen where there's less mess. You sat on the floor, entertaining Blackie while Remy betrays you, choosing Tara over you. You offered the idea to discuss a few things in the home, wanting to give the sisters some puppy time. They say dogs help relieve stress, and these two do a good job of it for you. You figure they could help relieve a little of the stress before you go kill some psychos.

"How did you guys know it was me they were after?" You pat the German Shepherd's head, snapping your fingers and pointing down. He sits and pants in front of you. "Dude, go entertain the tall one, you're drooling on me," you point at Sam.

Blackie whines, glancing at Sam. Sam stares back at him, eyebrow arching. He saunters over to Sam and lifts his paw onto her knee. She rolls her eyes, but you and Danny don't miss the smile on her face as she kneels down to pet him.

"We waited for him to call us," Tara explains, smiling down at the pitbull, rubbing his belly. "But he knew we were expecting his call."

"He said he was visiting the suburbs," Sam continues, both hands holding the dog's face. She shakes his head in her hands gently and the puppy pants happily. "Then he tried to confuse us, telling us there was an old friend he needed to see first."

You raise a brow, looking over at Danny for help. He shrugs, just confused as you are.

"When he hung up, Kirby tracked his phone to two different locations." Tara explains, brushing her fingers on the top of Remy's head. The dog lays on Tara's lap, trying his best to fight off the sleep she's lulling him into. "Here and Gale's apartment."

"There are two!" you exclaim, almost giddily, because you were right.

"No," Sam deadpans, your smile dropping. "Gale just got a call. She's okay. Mindy, Chad and Ethan are with her now."

"Ethan?" you ask incredulously.

"His alibi checked out," Tara informs you and you huff again. "Anyway, we drove here as fast as we could. We used the sirens," she grins, amused by your reaction.

You groan, throwing your head back. "Aww, man, you guys drove a police car?" Tara nods, laughing at your reaction.

"This doesn't make sense," Danny speaks up, ending the intense eye contact you and Tara were having. "Why did he go after you? No offense, but you don't really have that much of a role in the recreation of their supposed movie."

"Offense taken," you comment before Sam intervenes.

"It could be you have some sort of connection to the originals..." Sam offers an idea, standing up, leaving Blackie to lay down with a whine.

"Uhh, no," you draw out, shaking your head. "My family's boring. The only interesting we have ever gotten into was them losing me at DisneyWorld," you point at Danny to verify.

Danny chuckles at the memory. "Oh yeah," he shakes his head. "Their mom nearly got them to shut the entire park down. Turns out, they were at the teacup ride just riding it over and over."

You smile, proud. "I broke the record for the most rides in a single day," you frown suddenly. "I also got my ass whooped when we got home."

"Maybe it's not about your past all," Sam crosses her arms, pondering the reason. She arches a brow at you. "Maybe you pissed them off, you have done nothing but annoy them."

Danny laughs. "It's second nature," he sends you a pointed glare.

"I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable!" You defend, lifting your hands up in mock surrender. Suddenly, you gasp, earning confused glares. "That's who Gale looks like of. Monica!"

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose again.

Sam ignores your words. "Or maybe it could be your friendship with Tara," she glances at her sister, who sends her a warning glare. "We don't know how long he's been watching us, Tara." She explains.

You furrow your brows. "I got here during summer semester," you say, confused by Sam's words. "I got stuck with Anika as a roommate because I didn't want to stay with my sister and Danny doesn't have a spare room."

"I offered you my spare room," Danny retorts. "But you didn't want to pay rent."

You wave him off. "I didn't really meet Tara until..." you tilt your head, unsure. You look over at the girl, sending her apologetic look. "We didn't meet until the party, so I don't think friendship is the right word."

Sam notices the way her sister's entire demeanor changes. Her sister avoids eye contact, clearly affected by your words.

Remy lifts his head up, snarling at you. You lift your hands up, glaring back at the dog. "What did I do?" You narrow your eyes at him.

Tara smiles again, petting the dog gently from head to tail. He wags his tail and nuzzles his face back down into her lap.

"We met at the bookstore," Tara finally speaks, drawing your attention away from the dog. "I overheard you talking to yourself about the prices of pencils being high."

You don't recall. Summer was...it was a blur. It was a summer full of airplane rides to Atlanta and back. Your dad's health was deteriorating and you actively searched for reasons to not be there to see it.

There's a sudden shift in the room, a tension that becomes noticeable only to Danny. He can see your expression change from confusion to sadness in seconds. It's then Remy stands to push his nose against your lap, pleading for you to give him space to let him be with you.

"Um," you clear your throat, unsure of where the knot came from. "GhostFace brought up my...habit of running. It's what I did this summer."

"He usually attacks emotionally first," Sam says, understanding.

"The thing is, no one knows but my family," you look at her, trying to piece together this whole thing. "My dad died last month," you finally say it out loud, but tears don't form in your eyes.

Danny feels Sam's eyes on him, but he keeps his eyes trained on you, ready to console you if you need it.

The day you got the call from your mom, you recall having plans with Anika to meet her friends. She wanted you to meet her girlfriend only, it was to show her girlfriend she didn't have to worry about you. But Mindy came with a package, her twin and Tara. And with her twin, Ethan.

You faintly remember being annoyed by their laughter. The group's loud way of communicating. The stare Ethan had on you when he thought you weren't looking.

"So, Y/N–" Tara tried to get you to join the conversation. But you're too out of it to notice.

You stood up. "I gotta go," you ran then too. You went MIA for a week before the funeral, and you only showed up to give your mom the cash you got when you sold your car.

Tara's expression softens as she listens, her fingers continuing to stroke Remy's fur, the dog returning to nestle in her lap. There's a heavy silence, one that feels loaded with the weight of what you've just revealed. Even though you've held the tears at bay, the grief is there—raw, and unspoken. You've tried running from these feelings and clearly its caught up to you.

"I'm sorry," Tara says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You give a small shrug, your eyes fixed on the floor. "It's... whatever," you mutter, but the strain in your voice betrays your attempt at indifference. "I wasn't even there when it happened," you add, and that's when the guilt hits, almost visible in the way you hunch your shoulders slightly.

Sam steps forward, her arms uncrossing. "GhostFace knows things," she says, her tone serious. "Things he shouldn't."

Blackie pushes your arms and plops down on your lap, the strongest one between the two puppies. You got this guy when he was just six weeks old; his previous owners pieces of shits so you rescued him from them. You gifted him to your sister and her husband when you moved in with them; and that was only so they could allow him to move in with you.

He favored you more than Remy did. He knew you inside out, probably better than you knew yourself. But never more than your dad.

Your dad did train him for the first six months of his life though. Maybe he picked up on a few things.

You stare at the German Shepherd, and he feels you staring so his eyes glance up at you. A soft smile crosses your lips, patting his head gently.

Your brows furrow then, and you finally meet her eyes. "But how? No one but family knew. And it's not like I broadcasted my family stuff."

"That's what's bothering me," Sam says, her gaze narrowing in thought. "It's almost like someone close to you told him."

"Impossible, I don't have friends," you comment, half-joking, but the weight of it lingers.

"Or they've been watching for a lot longer than we thought," Sam offers another idea.

"Nope," you dismiss that idea as well. "I'm paranoid. I am always on guard and question everyone's intentions."

Danny's voice breaks the tension. "You had a full conversation with a homeless man last week," he deadpans.

You chuckle at the memory. "Yeah. He was nice." You defend Lionel, the homeless man. He was nice.

But Tara isn't laughing. She sits up a little straighter, her eyes flicking between you and Sam as she pieces something together. "What if they weren't just after you because of me or the others? What if it's because they want to break you down—push you to run again?"

A knot twists in your stomach, and you feel the gravity of Tara's words sink in. "Why would they care about me running?"

"Because it's what you do, right?" Danny interjects, his voice steady but sympathetic. "You run when things get tough, but maybe this time, they want to control when and where you go. They're using your fear against you."

It hits you like a punch in the gut. "I'm ruining his plan," you finally realize, your voice quiet but firm. Danny's eyes lock with yours, and you can see the recognition in his expression. "He wants me to run because I'm ruining his plan. The plot. The whole thesis or whatever film jargon Mindy would use. I'm not the hero—I'm the fucking cock block... in theory." You finish, unsure of the term but knowing you're onto something.

The room falls silent, your revelation weighing heavily in the air. Sam's eyes flick between you and Tara, while Danny's gaze remains fixed on you, understanding dawning in his expression. It's as if the pieces are finally starting to fall into place.

"You...may be right," Danny says slowly, his voice measured. "You're not following their script, the role you took on by happening upon it. They want you to run, because you happened on this whole ordeal. You weren't suppose to go to the party, you weren't suppose to be at Sam's place when he went to attack."

"Nope. I was forced to go both times," you explain, laughing gently. "Dumbass. Everyone knows you need a backup plan."

Sam's brow furrows, arms crossed as she paces a bit. "So, he doesn't want you to be the hero... and he wants to get rid of you." She stops in her tracks, thinking aloud. "And if they couldn't get you to leave, he was going to rid of you his own way."

Tara shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting between you and her sister.

"And they failed." You say triumphantly.

"Who knows what else you ruined in their plan?" Tara shrugs.

Sam narrows her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe Quinn wasn't the only planned killing for that night."

You shift uneasily, the gravity of the situation settling in. "So, what? I just stick around and hope I don't mess things up even more? Hoping it doesn't get me killed in the process."

Danny lets out a humorless chuckle. "Or you stay and mess things up in his plan instead."

You look at him, confused, and a little insulted.

"You told me what Mindy said," Danny continues. "You're the wild card. You're not playing by the rules, and that's exactly why he's targeting you. If you run, you make it easier for him. But if you stay—"

"I ruin his movie," you finish for him, your voice more confident now.

Sam gives a small nod, her expression hardening. "And if we know anything about GhostFace, it's that he hates when things don't go his way."

Tara smiles faintly, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes. "We've got an advantage now. We know what he wants you to do—and we're going to make sure you don't do it.

With a head shake and smile, you say instead, "Or maybe I do..do it," you couldn't help but giggle at your words. Danny shakes his head in disbelief, but chuckles as well. When you see Tara frown, you shake your head and stand carefully, making sure not to bother any of the sleeping dogs. "We make the idiot think I did run..." you look at Sam, hoping she gets where you're going.

Sam's eyes narrow, her arms still crossed as she processes your words. Slowly, a grin tugs at the corner of her lips. "You want to bait him," she says, her voice low with understanding. "Make GhostFace think you're running—play into his narrative."

"Exactly," you say, pointing at her, feeling the adrenaline start to course through your veins. "We make him think I'm doing what he expects, what he wants."

Danny raises an eyebrow, catching on. "We make him think you run, but really, you're leading him right into a trap."

Tara's frown fades, replaced with curiosity. "That could work," she murmurs, glancing at Sam. "If he thinks he's controlling the situation, he'll get overconfident, make mistakes."

Sam nods, her mind already racing through the logistics. "We'll need to set it up carefully. Make it believable."

"But tell no one," you say, looking between them all. "We can't risk anyone listening and it getting back to him somehow. Mindy, Chad, Kirby, Quinn's dad and definitely not Ethan." You emphasize.

Tara laughs quietly, shaking her head.

"Fine," Sam steps forward, and everyone follows. "We know the plan..."

"Oh, Captain America speech," you bounce on your feet excitedly. You purse your lips when you receive deadpan glares.

"We know our roles," Sam continues, glancing at each of you. "We make him regret ever trying to write any of us into his twisted movie."

You rest your hands on your hips, a proud smile forming on your lips. It radiates, drawing their attention to you. You shrug. "I just..." you smile, feeling more determined than ever. "I've spent my whole life running away from things. I think it's about time I run toward something—toward ending this for you guys."

Danny pats your shoulder gently, his grip reassuring. He's proud of you and your smile only widens at that.

Tara steps closer, her gaze soft but resolute. "Thanks for doing this," she looks over at her sister, her eyes full of gratitude before locking back on you. "For staying."

Danny and Sam share a look, feeling the clear attraction between you and Tara.

"So," Danny clears his throat, breaking the moment with a knowing smile. "The plan?"

You blink a few times, getting out of stupor. "Right..." you glance at your cousin, Sam then Tara. You feel caught so you hurry to move on. "We trap him, but we're gonna need all the help we can get.."

\\\\\

You know a plan is good when you start to believe it's bad.

"You know, the more we talk about it," you begin, pacing back and forth in front of them. "The more appealing it sounds." You chew your nail, a nervous habit you know you'd get reprimanded for if your siblings or parents were around.

The group sits in Gale's apartment building's lobby, being called over by the twins. They explained the need of wanting to end this. Chad told Sam of Mindy's worries of this ending worse than before. So Sam suggested they join them, hoping to console Mindy with their presence. She knows the twin worries when they are too far apart during situations like this.

Danny arches a brow. "What does?"

You clear your throat, coming to a stop by the door. "My mom called me," you say, avoiding their stares and keeping your eyes on Danny. "She wants me to come home. Even my brother said I should leave, and he's the one who convinced me and my sister to go to New York in the first place. So maybe I should...go back home." Your words come out reluctantly, because you're starting to mean them.

Danny glances at the others, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "Wait... you're serious."

You nod, playing into the part. "Yeah. Maybe it's time I listen to them." You shift your weight, making your hesitation believable.

Mindy stands abruptly, her voice rising. "Woah, hold up," she steps closer, shaking her head. "You can't just leave. You're part of this now—our hero!" Her tone is pleading, eyes wide with disbelief.

You shrug off her words, refusing to meet her gaze. "I'm no hero, Mindy. I'm just some idiot who stuck around too long. Like a bug stuck to a car's grill." You glare, directing the frustration outward, glancing at Chad and Ethan sitting nearby. Ethan looks back at you with that same innocent expression that's always unsettling.

With a huff, you shake your head and turn toward the door.

"GhostFace or not," you say sharply, turning back to face the room. "Maybe staying in New York was the wrong choice from the start. There isn't anything for me here, anyway."

The room falls silent for a moment, your words hanging in the air like a weight. Tara shifts uncomfortably, glancing between you and Sam. Danny looks torn, as if he wants to say something but is holding back.

"You can't just leave," Chad finally speaks up, breaking the silence. His voice is quiet, uncertain. "I mean, come on, you're part of this now. We need you."

"Need me?" you scoff, incredulous and bewildered at his words. "So he can kill me while you all survive again? No thanks."

Danny clenches his jaw, your words surprising him. "Y/N, relax. No one is dying-"

"He's tried to kill me twice," your voice raises, frustrated and exhausted. You feel Tara's sad eyes on you and it takes every ounce of will power you have not to look at her. "That's twice too many. And they say third's time the charm? Yeah, no, I'm not giving him the chance."

Ethan watches you, his gaze intense, but he says nothing. His expression is hard to read, but you don't let it throw you off. Not now.

"My family's suffered one loss already," you say, stunning Danny into silence. "I'm not going to put through another." Your words hit hard, firm and serious.

You mean it, Danny can tell. You're not acting on the role you told them you'd take on.

Mindy steps forward, her hands gesturing wildly as she speaks. "This isn't just about you! If you run, you give GhostFace exactly what he wants. He'll pick us off one by one if you're not here."

You look at her, then your gaze travels to your roommate sitting right behind her. You managed to grow a friendship with Anika, she has been nothing but nice to you. But this isn't about you, it was never suppose to be about you. This is their story, with an ending they can deal with.

"It was nice meeting you all," you say as you take tentative steps back towards the door. You don't miss the disappointed looks on their faces. "Really. I'm sure if the circumstances were different, we would be great friends. But, god, I hope I never see you guys again."

You say, final, turning on your heels, making your exit.

Danny looks down, ashamed.

Chad looks at the door, hoping you changed your mind. Minutes tick by, nothing but silence surrounds them. That and a few lingering policemen, making sure GhostFace didn't linger behind, hiding somewhere.

With no sight of you returning, Chad turns to the group. "What do we do?"

Sam looks at her friends, their fright obvious and palpable.

"Maybe he wins this time," she says softly.

Ethan leans forward where he's sat, an exasperated look on his face. "I'm sorry, what?"

Sam stands, looking at them all. "This was never suppose to involve any of you," she sighs, the sad look on her sister's face hurting her the most. "I roped you guys into this. He wants to punish me... Me. Maybe I let him."

"You want to give up?" Mindy asks, some disgust lingers in her tone.

"Everyone thinks I'm this terrible person. Maybe they're right." Sam says, then looks at Tara again. "You said it. It's not like I have a plan for my life anyway. If this is what I need to do to keep you all safe... then it's worth it."

Tara's expressions changes at her sister's words. "No." She snarls, getting on her feet. "Fuck that. You came back to Woodsboro to protect me. And you've been protecting me ever since. We're all still alive because of you."

"And Y/N," Ethan adds, earning glares from everyone.

"They aren't here anymore, you don't have to kiss their ass," Anika glares at him. He cowers down where he's sat.

With a deep breath, Tara takes her sister's hands. "Maybe it's time you let us protect you. We're a team, remember?"

Sam's eyes soften as she looks at her sister, Tara's words slowly cutting through the guilt and exhaustion she's been carrying. For a moment, the tension between them breaks, and the weight on Sam's shoulders seems to lighten, just a little.

Tara tightens her grip on Sam's hands, her voice stronger now. "You're not in this alone anymore, Sam. None of us are. We can't just give up and let him win."

Mindy steps up. "We're a family."

Chad brightens. "Hell yeah! Core four!"

Danny tilts his head in confusion, but doesn't comment on it.

Sam crosses her arms. "He's going to keep coming for us."

Ethan shakes his head. "I think Y/N had the right idea," he speaks up, capturing their attention. "Can't we just hole up somewhere safe?"

Anika looks at him in disgust. "Ugh, god, I hope you are GhostFace so you die at the end," she grumbles under her breath. Ethan stares back at her with wide eyes.

Mindy laughs but gets a shove from Chad. "Oh," she mumbles, clearing her throat. "Anika." she tries her best to sound authoritative.

Tara gives Ethan a pointed look. "And hiding won't solve anything. He'll just find us, like he always does..." she trails off, coming to a realization as soon as the words come out of her mouth. "I have an idea. Chad, give me your phone," she orders without an explanation.

Chad does as he's told, handing his phone over to the short girl. She does a quick dial of the number and soon, the man picks up. Tara explains the plan to the detective, who doesn't seem at all convinced or sure of it. She doesn't bother on insisting him to liking the plan, just wants to know if he wants to be apart of it.

"Are you gonna help us?" Tara asks once she's done with her explanation.

"Yes," Bailey relents with a sigh, glancing around his surroundings. "I'm stuck here, but Gale gave us the keycards to the theater; it has heavy security and surveillance cameras, we can use that against him. I'll get Kirby to meet you there and join you as soon as I can."

Tara glances at Danny, who wandered off to make a phone call. She can see him actually frustrated, and she can't even guess what about.

"Travel in public," Bailey pulls her out of stupor. "Remember, the more people around you, the less of a chance he can take a shot at you before you get here."

The walk to the subway is unnervingly quiet, tension settling like a fog over the group. Sam walks beside her sister, hyper-aware of their surroundings. She's ready for anything, but the weight of the plan lingers heavily on her mind. Trusting Bailey and Kirby felt like a gamble, but it was the only option they had. She steals glances at the others as they walk in an uneasy silence—each of them lost in their own thoughts, wary of every shadow, every passerby.

Danny lingers behind, phone pressed to his ear again. Faintly, Tara hears, "Yo, this is Y/N, I don't check voicemails so send me a message..." then a beep.

Danny grits his teeth and slips his phone into his pocket, catching up to the group quietly.

Tara turns to the others, her voice tight. "You guys don't have to come with us," she tells Ethan, Anika, and Danny. Sam nods beside her, silently agreeing.

"Right," Ethan scoffs. "We peel off and the killer takes us out one-by-one? No thank you."

Anika squints her eyes at him, mimicking her girlfriend's glare. "I'm going to keep an eye on him," she says, pointing at Ethan, who lifts his hands in mock surrender, incredulous.

"Safety in numbers, right?" Danny speaks up. "I'm not my cousin. I don't run," he looks at Sam, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

"Let's get to the theater," Sam nods just as the train arrives.

They all stand together, but the flow of passengers getting off the train separates them. Ethan, Anika and Mindy are pushed back by people. Mindy grabs Anika's hand, steadying herself.

"Hey!" Mindy shouts after them, standing on her toes to get a glimpse of them. She spots her brother on the train. "Chad!"

Chad waits by the doors, hoping his strength is enough to keep them open. He watches his sister and her girlfriend struggle through the crowd, pushing their way forward. The thought to get off and help them crosses his mind, but then he feels someone yank him back. The doors snap shut, his eyes widening as he hears his sister call out his name again.

Mindy and Anika run, but can't make it onto the train in time. A hand grabs Mindy's shoulder, and she jumps back, pulling Anika with her. Ethan stands there, eyes wide with innocence.

"Get your Ghostface ass away from me, Ghostface." Mindy distances her and Anika away from him, ignoring the hurt expression on his face.

"Where's Mindy and Anika?" Sam asks when Chad and Danny finally join her and Tara.

"They missed the train," Chad admits, his voice tight. "I would've waited with them, but Cute Boy pulled me inside," he adds, glaring at Danny.

Tara's suspicion flares. She trusted Danny because of you, but now—with you gone, really gone—she isn't sure who to trust anymore. The plan was for you to text Danny once you had finished your part, but Danny hasn't mentioned anything to the group.

"I was trying to keep us all together," Danny defends.

"By splitting us up?" Tara asks, her voice sharp as her glare.

Chad pulls out his phone, revealing a text from Mindy: We'll get the next one. Don't wait for us. We'll meet you at the theater.

Chad locks his phone after the sisters read the message, then looks up. His eyes widen, his stomach twisting into a knot. "Shit," he mutters.

The others follow his gaze, their nerves skyrocketing. The subway car is packed to the max with Halloween revelers dressed as every horror movie character to ever exist—Freddy, Jason, Pinhead, Michael Myers, Leatherface.

But it isn't those characters that send a chill down their spines. It's the dozens of people dressed as Ghostface, their masks seemingly trained on the group, unmoving.

Tara swallows thickly. "How many stops?"

"Ten," Sam answers, her voice barely a whisper as she checks the map.

Danny grips the pole, his knuckles white from tension. "Great."

[fountainpenguin]

So post-"Remy Rides Again," is Remy like… under a geis that he can’t eat ANY food not prepared by Juandissimo’s hands?

"You can have him back, but he has to cook all of your meals."

Does the rule only apply to three meals a day? Can he eat desserts? Is he allowed candy and snacks?

If he attends a banquet with his parents, does he have to come up with excuses for why he's not eating? Does he have to avoid food at birthday parties? The school cafeteria? I assume that's the implication here.

If he opts to skip a meal, does he automatically lose Juandissimo under fae contract rules??

The kid who loves T-bone steaks gave everything up to keep his godfather… His parents run the Fancy Schmancy Country Club and host large events full of food... That’s so funny.

No wonder Remy broke the truce in "Operation F.U.N."-

Timmy almost made him break terms and conditions in "The Big Bash" by handing him Cupid's cooking (/jk)

Welcome back, Cú Chulainn...

[imaginedisish]

Logan Howlett/Wolverine Masterlist

I've written so much for this man in the past week that I've decided he deserves his own masterlist. Enjoy. Fics are organized by the date they were posted. See fics for more specific warnings.

~The Promise (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating 18+ for smut

You want to relax after a long day, so you decide to let off some steam alone in your room. But, you're not as alone as you think. Logan can hear you loud and clear...and he's happy to help.

~Unchained Melody (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating 18+ for smut

You and Logan decide to go to Rogue and Remy's wedding together, but you don't know what together means. Logan helps to clarify...

~One for the Road (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating 18+ for smut

Forty-five minutes is simply too long of a car ride for you to wait to take care of Logan... Or: you give Logan head while he's driving and he absolutely loses it.

~Poker Face (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating 18+ for smut

You and Logan are alone in the mansion for the evening, and after a few drinks, your game of Blackjack turns into strip poker...

~Modern Love (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

The team goes out to an arcade, and Logan is his usual grumpy self...but his soft spot for you is more clear than ever.

~Wild Horses (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating 18+ for smut

Logan takes you out for a friendly drink...that ends up being more than just friendly.

~My Love All Mine (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut

Logan told you to stay in his bed so he could have you when he got home from a mission, but he finds you in the kitchen instead...and he isn’t happy.

~Liquid Smooth (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut

A simple mission deep in a forest alone with Logan quickly gets out of hand when you just have to go and pick a flower...

~Is It Casual Now? (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut

You can’t handle just a casual affair with Logan. You need more.

~See You Again (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut and violence.

You're convinced Logan hates you. But when you're forced to run a drill in the danger room, alone, everything changes.

~Savior Complex (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut and violence.

You are willing to give up everything, including your own life, to save your found family. Logan, however, is not willing to let you do that. And he finally shows you why. 

~Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut and violence.

Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

~Lover, You Should’ve Come Over (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut and violence.

You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.

~Heart to Heart (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut

Logan doesn't seem like himself on the car ride up to Lake George to meet the other X-Men for the weekend, and you're not going to leave him alone until you find out why (it's car sex, the whole fic is basically just rough car sex). 

~ Inside Out (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut and violence.

After a tense battle, you and Logan have it out (in more ways than one). 

~Need 2 (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut and violence.

You and Logan have always been plagued with nightmares, so avoiding sleep is just something you two have in common...until you find yourselves in each other's beds, helping one  another through your nightmares. 

~I’m Not In Love (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Rating: 18+ for smut

After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.

[seraph-starman]

admit it | s.w.

pairing: sam winchester x reader summary: sam’s sleep schedule finally catches up to him word count: 1.9k remi’s notes: i had sassy, early seasons sam in mind for this (so you should too !) even though the plot doesn’t match <3 (-2 degrees celcius is close to 28 degrees for our american friends)

You had advised him to wear a jacket. It was raining, and -2 degrees outside as you trekked through the forest in an attempt to retrace your steps and find where the Impala was parked. You had gotten lost after the hunt for the burial site of an angry ghost. Usually Dean was pretty good at remembering where he parked his beloved car, but it was dark when you arrived and this forest was much bigger than anticipated. At the sound of sniffing behind you, barely audible over the sound of leaves crunching in your path and tapping of rain, you stop and turn to Sam. He shoots you a glare.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. And rain can’t even make you sick,” he says in response to your stare before continuing to walk past you.

“Sure, rain can’t make you sick. But being cold and wet for prolonged periods of time can. We’ve been out here for an hour. And you don’t get a healthy amount of sleep, which can put you at risk for illnesses,” you reply, paraphrasing the article you had memorized just for this occasion as you catch up with him.

“I get plenty of sleep. Trust me, I’m not sick.”

Dean then looks back to you both, shaking his head in annoyance.

“You two are being a real help here.”

Sam rolls his eyes.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

The older Winchester stops and turns back, looking offended.

“Of course I know where we’re going!“

You both stop as you reach where Dean stood, eyes peering through the curtain of rain over the river that stood before you, to the trees that stretched for acres. The sun was rising over the tops of the woods.

“Here,” Sam says, sniffing between the actions of reaching into his pocket and then handing Dean a crumpled map. Dean groans, throwing his hands up before snatching the map from him.

“You had that this whole time?” He asks rhetorically before unfolding the map and turning to face the forest. Sam leans over his shoulder, before turning sharply into a forceful sneeze. Both you and Dean turn to stare at him. Sam wipes his nose as he’s met with both your looks, Dean’s grimace and your amusement. He frowns irritatedly before waving it off.

“I’m fine! Figure out where we are, Dean.”

Dean shakes his head, gazing back over the map.

“I think… that we’re here,” he accentuates with a jab to the river on the sodden map, “so that means that we need to go that way.“

He gestures up a soft hill and begins walking again, you trailing behind and Sam bringing up the rear. You fall into step beside him, lumbering along in Dean’s wake. Up close you could see the dark circles under his eyes, the undeniable consequence of his sleeping habits. Hell, none of you had gotten good sleep in a long while. But you knew Sam had it the worst. Occasionally you’d hear his low-voiced discussions with Dean, spoken only when they thought you were out of earshot. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, not at all, despite the teasing and the way he seemed consistently annoyed with you. He hated talking about his dreams, feeling like he was burdening someone with his own issues. Even with Dean he struggled. You’re interrupted out of your psycho-analysis of Sam as he realizes you’re staring. Again, but this time he could see the subtle concern in your gaze. It bothered him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head as you turn back to look ahead. You recognize the pullout a few feet ahead, where Dean was already brushing leaves off the Impala. You’d never been happier to see that car, and Sam seems to have a similar sentiment as he sighs in relief. 

The ride back to the bunker was quiet. Dean was too tired to put any music in, and the rain had quieted to a gentle tapping on the hood of the car. Cas was waiting when you got back, offering a quick congratulations on your success with the ghost before baiting Dean into another hunt. Sam had relentlessly tried to convince all of you that he was functioning as usual, that he could go with Dean and Cas. He was soon after proven wrong by the hellish coughing fit that followed his lame debate. So now it was just the two of you, and Sam had locked himself in his room with a box of tissues. All the better for you. It wasn’t like you wanted to listen to or take care of an irritated, fever-ridden Sam. You’d offered him some tea to help with his throat before he left to sulk in his room, which he’d accepted begrudgingly. He still refused to accept the fact that he was ill. You had attempted to research for long enough, disrupted in your focus each time Sam came in or out of the kitchen. You finally decided to check on him, whether he liked it or not.

“Sam? I have soup,” you say through his door, bowl in one hand and the other on the knob.

“I don’t like soup,” he grumbled hoarsely from the other side.

“Too bad.”

You push the door open, receiving a huff from him. He was laying back, four blankets over his lap and a fan pushing cold air towards him from a few feet away. Empty mugs littered his bedside table, along with a bottle of aspirin and a half empty pack of cold medicine capsules. A few tissues had been balled up and tossed around the trash can. You held in a snicker.

“Oh, how the mighty fall,” you quote. Sam sighs again, exasperatedly. You set the soup (mushroom) on his bedside table before turning to the TV.

“Love Island? Seriously?”

He furrows his brows at your judgement.

“It’s really not that bad. I mean, obviously it’s fake, but it’s somewhat entertaining. Better than whatever’s on cable, I guess.”

You shrug, picking up tissues and tossing them into the garbage before gathering the mugs, Sam watching your tidying carefully.

“You really don’t have to do that,” he says, turning the volume down on the TV. 

“It’s fine,” you reply, carrying the stack of mugs out of the room, when Sam’s voice stops you.

“Can I… have more of that tea that you made earlier? Please,” He asks. He much preferred coffee over tea, but ever since you had made him earl grey, (with a bit of milk and honey) it had become a quick favorite. 

You turn and smirk.

“You like it?”

“It’s not bad,” he said, shrugging.

Your smirk remains as you walk to the kitchen and set the empty mugs near the sink, setting the kettle back over the stove. For some reason, you were happy he liked your tea. And that he wasn’t being as stubborn as usual. You had been slightly caught off guard with his change in demeanor, from irritated to benign. After a few minutes of breathing in steam, the kettle whistles, announcing that it was finished boiling. You pour the water into one of the only remaining clean mugs and follow the routine of what you’d made before, when a shadow moving in the corner of your eye almost causes you to knock the still-hot mug over. The thing clears its throat roughly and you realize who it is.

“Jesus!” You say, steadying the mug.

Sam’s eyes meet yours, expression shifting from hard-set to attentive, brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“D’you need help?” He asks, taking the mug and holding it in his hands, looking down into the swirls of milk in the dark like he was searching for an untold prophecy. You watch in amusement as he sips the tea, making a face as it burns his tongue.

“It’s hot,” you add, smiling as he scoffs and sets the mug aside.

“You need to get back to bed.”

He rolls his eyes.

“What, so I have a curfew now?”

There goes soft, polite Sam. You sigh. This was going to be a long night. You usher him back to his room and somehow convince him to more medicine. He lays back on his bed, observing you as you lean in the doorway.

“You just going to stand there?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

You shrug.

“I can leave. You need to sleep anyways.”

“I’m not tired.“

You roll your eyes, when a grin starts to spread across your face.

“Y’know, I don’t think that I’ve ever seen you get sick. Between the awful crap you come into contact with and your sleeping tendencies, you’d think there would’ve been at least one instance. But no. Somehow you avoid any illness. How’d you do it? Bribe a god? Is it something in those so-called ‘health shakes’ of yours? Honestly, it’s a medical mystery. You should be studied.”

Sam listens to your slight ramble, face growing more and more skeptical.

“Those shakes are actually good for you,” he replies.

“Out of everything I just said, that’s what you choose to defend?” You say, resisting the urge to scoff.

Sam rolled his eyes.

You look him over for a moment, before walking toward the desk to pick up the few newer balled-up tissues.

“Seriously though, you should at least try to get some sleep now. Even if you don’t want to. And, you’re probably too fatigued for the dreams-”

As soon as it slipped out you knew you shouldn’tve said anything. Sam looks to you as soon as it comes out, narrowing his eyes.

“Lemme guess— Dean?” He asks, irritation flooding his tone.

“No, no. I’ve heard you talk about them. With Dean. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I swear,” you add, “but I’ve heard enough.”

You’re both quiet for a moment.

“You could talk to me about them, Sam. If you wanted to. My opinion of you won’t change,” you say, voice much lower than it was before.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just not your problem,” he says, sucking in a breath. 

You sit down in the chair, facing him but avoiding his gaze.

“It can be our problem. All of us. This is really corny, but you’re not alone, Sam. Really.”

He sniffs.

“That was corny,” he agrees, laughing and then smiling slightly, “but… thanks.”

The lamp light cast shadows over his face, and you could see the dimples of his genuine smile. You suddenly wanted to kiss them, a thought that a you’re alarmed by, before it slips away.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, leaning forward to press the back of your hand to his forehead. He looks surprised, eyes flicking up to yours. They stay there, his lips parted like he was going to say something but never does. You smile, and his smile returns, softer but still present. And despite his runny nose and fever-flushed face, you kiss him. It isn’t rushed, or passionate or lustful or wanton. It’s just a kiss. But it means so much. Finally feeling comfortable. Safe. Needed. He goes rigid for a moment, before finally catching up and kissing back. His lips are slightly chapped, but also soft. You kiss the sides of his lips, his dimples as he grins into you. Then he grabs your shoulders and pulls back slightly, breathlessly, still smiling.

“Fantastic… that’s how I feel. But also- sick. And I don’t want you to-”

You laugh, “Oh, so now you admit it?”

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 6

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

My god this header is ass but I was an emo kid what can I say

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

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Chapter summary: Past. Remy teaches you to drive Present. Separated, you and Logan speak to others about each other.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

3.0 words

Before

“Remy!!!” You giggle, the car driving slow as a snail, with you behind the wheel.

“You are doing great, pistache, but I think you can speed up a little more now.”

You nod, smiling as you tap the gas just a bit. The car jolts forward, making Remy gasp and grab at his chest.

“Shoot!”

Remy laughs. “C’est bon, just keep going.”

He was teaching you to drive. Your parents and husband did not think you needed to learn how to drive, which you thought was silly.

‘What if I need to go somewhere?’

‘Where could you possibly need to go without me?’

‘What if we have our baby, and there’s an emergency?’

‘Call me, I’ll take care of you. Besides, you should probably worry about managing to get pregnant before you worry too hard about that, babe.’

The memory made your skin crawl, and made you more determined to learn yourself. In the distance of the parking lot, you can see Logan leaning against his bike, smoking a cigar.  When you told him during your regular lunches you returned too that he was going to teach you to drive, Logan tried to insist it should be him instead. You told him you weren’t going to learn on a motorcycle before a car. When he pouted, you said that you’d let him teach you to ride a motorcycle one day. That made him smile. He was still apprehensive, but you promised he could watch just in case.

“Look out!” Remy’s call brought you back to reality, him grabbing the steering wheel and turning only just in time to swerve the curve of the car from crashing straight into it. The car jumps the curb and you hear a loud pop, but as soon as you had heard his exclamation, you had taken your foot off the gas. For a moment the car sputtered slowly as you drove back onto the parking, then it stop with a shake. Logan was there, his hands on the hood and preventing the little bit of engine power that made the car go in drive from pushing forward. The fear in his eyes as he locked into yours make your heart clench, but you were too busy feeling guilty for whatever you did to Remy’s car.

“Remy! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim as you put the car into park.

His hand is on his heart, but he’s looking you over. “Don’t worry about me, I can heal. Did you hit your head?”

“But your car!” Tears blur at your eyes fast. This is why you never learned. You were too stupid to learn. You were just a dumb stupid idiot girl who could drive and couldn’t do math and could get pregant so what was the fucking point of you? Stupid, stupid, stu-

Strong hands pulled your face to him, eyes wide and blown out and looking over you. “Baby doll, are you hurt? Is anything hurting?”

The tears stream down your face, panic rising in your gut. Remy was going to hate you. Your friend was going to hate you.

“I broke his car!!” You exclaim, sobbing loudly. 

Confusion flitters across his face. Ever gentle, Logan takes your face in his hands, getting close so that you couldn’t avoid looking at him. “Baby, look at me. Need you to look at me.” When your eyes focused on his dark brown ones again, he gave you a little smile. “Good girl. Now listen to me. You didn’t break his car, the tire popped and the rim is a little busted, but- hey, hey listen to me,- but, Remy isn’t mad, because I’m gonna fix it, right Remy?”

From behind you, Remy speaks, his hand on your back calming you. “I wouldn’t be mad either way, pistache. I promise, it isn’t a big deal.”

You sniffle. “...Did I hurt you guys?” You ask, looking at Logan but directing the question to both.

Logan shakes his head. “We he-”

“I’m not asking about the healing, I’m asking if you got hurt.”

“Little bit in my palms, but it’s nothing now. You were going slow.”

Remy. “Not one bit, I promise. It’s okay.”

You give a little nod. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl.” Logan thumbs away a tear. 

After you calmed down down enough to tell him you were hurt, just shaken up, Logan look visibly relieved. Remy went to the store with Logan’s card (Remy promised it was okay, but Logan wanted to pay), and got the parts Logan needed to repair, Logan took you up to your room.

“Are you sure you’re okay, dolly?”

“Yeah… yeah I’m okay… Can you… maybe stay with me while Remy’s out?”

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need me.”

The accident had scared you, but what scared you more was that they’d get mad at you, hurt you. You were so prepared to take a beating, and you would have deserved it. 

“Remy isn’t mad, right?” You ask once again, still nervous.

Logan frowned. “No, no he isn’t. Not one bit. In fact, he’s probably forgotten all about it and is flirting with some unlucky cashier as we speak.”

That made you chuckle, but quickly even that joy was gone. “I thought… I thought he was gonna start yelling at me… or hit me or something… I don’t understand how he’s so calm.”

His frown turned into something dark, a coldness washing his face that sent a chill through you. This wasn’t the Logan you knew, but you’d seen something akin to it before, when the man at the store yelled at you. “Has he ever hurt you?”

Your eyes go wide. “No! No, oh my god, absolutely not.”

“Has he ever yelled at you? Because I’ll kill him, I swear to god dolly, I’ll-”

“No! Logan,” You take his hand, thumbing over the hair at the top. “I promise, Remy has never so much as rolled his eyes at me.”

There was a pause, Logan searching you for a lie, checking if you were protecting him, your soft little heart not wanting him hurt… He was skeptical.

“Then why did you think he was going to?” When Logan asks this, you shift uncomfortably in your spot at the window seat, looking away, but he squeezes the hand you hold him with. “Talk to me, please.”

You still can’t look at him, ashamed to admit what happened to you, and not really telling the full story… but Logan deserved to know. The way he looked at you, the way you felt for him… he was as good as they came. He deserved to know.

“I told you I was married…” Another light squeeze. “He um… he used to beat me. Badly…”

Logan knew this of course, Charles letting you in on this when you were sick… Ever since then, he’s been trying to figure out who your husband is so he can go slice him open, leaving his guts hanging on your church’s door, intestines wrapped around the door handle. No luck so far.

“How badly, doll?”

“Bad enough to get frequent flyer points at the hospital.” You try to joke, but Logan didn’t think it was funny.

“And no one thought it was suspicious?”

You were so uncomfortable, needing so badly to get away from this conversation. Shame filled you, but what happened, what really fully happened was so much more worse than you could ever tell him, so you gave a simpler version.

“No. I tried to tell a doctor but he… said it was my fault.” Saying it was your fault was only the half of it.

Logan looked like he was ready to commit murder. 

“Tell me his name, doll. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

*

You didn’t, refused to. He didn’t need to go googling that name and find what comes up.

Soon, Remy returned and Logan acquiesced to going to fix the car, only leaving you when it seemed like you might have another anxiety attack if Remy’s car wasn’t fixed.

You watch from your window seat as Logan worked. He had the car up on a jack, replacing the rim and the tire like new. He looked so good like this, that tight white tank top and blue jeans, muscles straining against himself and dirtying up in grease… he looked so good. Things were getting harder and harder to retrain with him, and god, when he was like this? He was exactly the masculinity you were taught to idolize, but with a softness you didn’t expect.

Your fingers were ghosting over your panties before you could stop yourself. A tingly rush came through as you touch over your clit, a mix of shame and pleasure filling you. You never, ever touched yourself. It was a sin, it was wrong. Yout thought. Honestly, you were still recovering from everything you and your husband went through, you hadn’t had time to re-evaluate your beliefs yet. It was all so daunting… but when you swirled over your clit while looking at Logan… you couldn’t help but moan. 

Fuck it.

You were on your way to hell as it was considering what you had done back in Carolina, this was the least of your worries.

Scrambling, you pull off your panties, your skirt giving you easy access to explore your body and feeling what you liked. You imagined Logan touching you, caressing you, telling you the sweet words you’d never heard before.

‘Such a pretty girl, dolly’ he’d say, that rough voice of his crooning against your stomach as he’d touch you. ‘So pretty and good, sweet little angel.’

Logan would make you feel worthy wheen he’d slide his fingers inside.

You pump yourself with your right hand, giving your clit attention with your left and panting heavily. Eyes remained on Logan as he lifted the tire up to the rim, mounting it on again and those muscling bulging even from your view 3 floors up. You pump faster, imagine his words and gentle touches. Logan was always so gentle with you, so careful and kind and filling you with praise you didn’t get before.

‘You’re doing so well, dolly.’ He would tell you, you know he would. Logan always complimented your food, your clothes, how you were with the children… surely he’d compliment your body, how good you were for him… he called you something today, a good girl… yeah he’d call you a good girl knuckles deep, right? ‘Good girl, my little baby doll’

As Logan bolted the tire to car, you feel the orgasm approaching and echo hose words he’d said in the car, over and over again as you watched and imagined it was Logan touching you, ‘good girl, good girl, good girl’ On repeat until it crashed into you.

Caught by surprise, you cry out his name, shouting in pleasure as you ride out your orgasm on your fingers,  wave after wave of pleasure gushing out onto your fingers, body shaking with the intensity. You’d come here and there with your husband. He was pretty good looking and occasionally made things good for you, but this? This was something else. Just the idea of Logan surpassed anything your husband had given you.

Sweaty and panting, you rest of the window, forehead pressed to the cool air.

When you open your eyes, your body ran cold.

Logan was looking right at you.

After

“It’s Logan’s, isn’t it?”

You gasp, startled so much from Scott just appearing behind her more than the words, but as you clean up your spilled rice from the counter, what he said sunk in.

“Sorry.” Scott mumbles, brushing the rice into his hand to throw away. “Thought you heard me come in. I wasn’t quiet.”

“I’m partially deaf, right ear.” You tap it, trying to steer him away from his questions. “Can’t really hear much out of there.”

He’s still staring at you. “That didn’t answer my question.”

Heat creeps up your body. You didn’t want anyone to know, but you were also scared for Scott. Everyone knew their animosity. That will happen when you sleep with a man’s wife. “I don’t know what you mean.” If Scott figured out you were pregnant with Logan’s baby, it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out you aren’t talking to Logan. If he thinks anything is amiss in your relationship, you’re concerned he’ll confront Logan. 

“You can talk to me.”

The urge to laugh at that was strong. You couldn’t even tell Remy what happened, why would Scott think you’d talk to him? You barely knew him. And thank fucking god Mr. Xavier was away or you’re sure he’d pick up on all this. You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted it to have never happened. You wanted your Logan back. You wanted the Logan you knew before.

“Did he hurt you?”

You hadn’t realized you’ve been staring off into space, but his words make you snap over to him, looking right into his glasses.

“No!” You say quickly, the words sputtering out as denial seeps into your bones. “No, Logan wouldn’t hurt me, Mr. Summers. Logan just wouldn’t. He would do that!” Tears burn behind your eyes as you protest too much. “Logan is kind, and he’s gentle and he- he protects me! He wouldn’t hurt me!”

“Hun-”

“HE WOULDN'T! He protects me! Logan wouldn’t hurt m-me!” The final words came out in a sob, and you realize how suspicious you sounded. Were you saying this to Scott, or to yourself? Were you really denying what he’d done? If you were, you were as crazy and Logan was… but something about your words felt… good. Logan wouldn’t do that to you. Logan isn’t a rapist. 

There’s a beat of silence, Scott’s mouth opening to protest, but he seems to think better of making a crying girl cry more.

“Alright hun, if you say so. Logan wouldn’t hurt a fly.” There is a hint of sarcasm, but it was light enough you could brush it off. Your Logan wouldn’t hurt a fly. Your Logan came into your room as you screamed at a wolf spider, trapped it in his hands and let it go out the window. Your Logan held your in his arms when the nightmares didn’t relent, even though he had woken up from his own. No one understood your Logan. 

*

The girl was sleeping in the back seat.

Kurt and Logan’s pairing had been intentional. Kurt, a devout Catholic, was there to try and sway girl family with theology, convince them that their mutant daughter, Cecilia, was not possessed, but rather gifted by God, who had a divine purpose for her. They preferred to keep families together if possible, not wanting to separate children from their families.

When that didn’t work, and Kurt’s bleeding heart struggled to do what had to be done, that’s where Logan came in. No one was killed, but Logan came close with the father. When he looked at the young girl, he saw you as a teenager, needing help.

Now, as they drive back to New England, she rested, underweight and no sleep for days. They’d stopped at a Culvers, Kurt’s favorite, and got her a whole meal with ice cream included, which she devoured, and they were off.

“You and the young fräulein on the outs, my fruend?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Everyone single one of you is so fucking nosy.”

“Judging by the tone, I’d say that’s a yes”

Kurt was lucky Logan liked him. He sighs, gripping the steering wheel as Kurt chows down on some fries. “There may have been a mild… disagreement.”

He chuckles. “And what did you do?”

“The fuck makes you think it’s my fault?”

“Deine kleine Puppe würde keiner Fliege etwas zuleide tun”

“English”

“You’ve lived all these years and you never bothered to learn another language?”

“Kurt.”

“Your little doll wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Logan snapped his head over to his driving partner. “What the fuck did you just call her?” His tone was harsh, an aggression Kurt wasn’t used to towards him.

Kurt frowned. “Little doll?”

“Don’t fuck’n call her that.”

A beat. “Why?”

“That’s for me. Not you.”

The confusion was clear, but Kurt knew better than to push it.

“When was the last time she’s been to church?”

That made Logan glance over again. “Since she left her family, probably.”

He nodded. “Maybe offer to bring her some weekend.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “The church sent her off to be married to a whole ass adult at 16 and let her get abused. I don’t think-”

“The IBLP is a fucking cult, Logan. But not every church is like that.”

A scoff escapes him. “I’m sure. Let me guess, you want her to go to your church?”

Kurt smacked him. “You know damn well I can’t go to mass looking like a demon. Cece’s family about had a panic attack seeing me. No, Logan, I mean like, something less intense. I’m not an idiot, I know you can’t just drop someone into a catholic church. Something like Unitarian Universalist, or a nondenominational church, somewhere she can worship how she chooses.”

There’s a bit of quiet, but Logan is thinking it over. His first instinct was to keep you away from any church ever after what happened to you, but clearly not everyone religious is bad. Hell, Kurt was going to be a priest for a while, and he’s alright. Maybe you needed that. You did still believe… after all your long late-night talks, he knew that much… Considering the baby you were carrying, maybe this would help calm your nerves. You needed hope, a reminder in love and how important family was, how important the family he had with you was…

Thanks for all the love you've been giving this series! It genuinly means so much.

As per the last poll, Im surprised t find remy is makin everyone suspicious! Crazy!

Anyway, now that we've met Kurt and Scott....

If you have any idea for a poll next time, let me know!

Also go ahead and comment or send me anons with any songs you think fit the playlist!

As always, comments mean the world. thank you for all the wonderful comments and the indepth thoughts!

Dark Logan and Dark Scott with reader

dark reader x logan

Logan pregnant scotts wife reader

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

Green > SFW prompts

Red > NSFW prompts

«timeline»

⇀bold is the fandoms i really want. ↼

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: - Ice Skating- Rocky Rickaby

Day 2: “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”-Stanley Pines

Day3: - “I made you some hot cocoa.”-Stanford Pines

Day 4:we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party- Logan Howlett

Day5:- Dancing In The Snow-Rocky Rickaby

Day 6:-Sucking on a Candy Cane- Viktor Vasko

Day 7: - “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely November” -Mordecai Heller

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house- Dorian Zibowski

Day 9:-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”- Stanley Pines

Day 10: -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex?-Bucky Barnes

Day 11:- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?- Stanley Pines

Day 12:-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?”- Joel Miller

Day 13: -“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”-Spencer Reid

Day 14:-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.- Mordecai Heller

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’- Dean Winchester

Day 16:Baking holiday cookies.- Overlord!Husk

Day 17:-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.” - Sylus

Day 18:Jingle Bells: Our muses take a sleigh ride-Spencer Reid

Day 19:-Build A snowman.- Stanford Pines

Day 20:-Silent Night: Not a creature was stirring… It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is in bed, except for our muses.- Luis Serra

Day 21:-The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Our muses have snuggled for some fireside Christmas dreaming.- Dad!Fiddleford

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:-Christmas Decorations- Dad!Fiddledord

Day 23:-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.” Rocky Rickaby

Day 24:“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”- Overlord!Husk (pause)

Day 25:-Christmas Morning- Dad!Stanford Pines

Day 26:-Hanging Stockings.- Dad!Husk

Day 27:-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat-Vander

Day 28:-“Dancing in the snow- Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

◇ Day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”- Gregory House

Day 30:-ice skating-Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

Day 31:-sneaking around after the other has fallen asleep to put up their gift.- Aaron Hotchner

Day 32:-“Go on, open it.” - Bucky Barnes

Day 33: Day 33:-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”- Rocky Rickaby(pause)

Day 34: -Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe. - Poly Fiddauthor x reader

Day 35:“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?” - Remy 'Gambit'

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"-Connor { DBH }

Day 37:-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”- Dad!Stan Pines

Day 38:-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere." --Sedgewick Sable{pause}

Day 39:-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!” - Nico Savoy {pause}

Day 40:-The scent of real Christmas trees-Joel Miller

Day 41: -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.” Adam {Hazbin Hotel} {pause}

Day 42:-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.” -Stanford Pines

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }- Stanford Pines

Day 44: -“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!" Stanley Pines.

Day 45: -“Did you spike the eggnog again?”- Sedgewick Sable

Day 46: “Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”- Dad!Husk

Day 47: - “It’s Snowing”- Rip Wheeler

Day 48: -Peppermint-flavoured everything-Penelope Garcia

Day 49:-wearing ugly Christmas sweaters-Gregory House

Day 50:spending christmas morning together.-James Sunderland

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

A chaotic night at the carnival with your boyfriend (Part.1)

You and your boyfriend embark on a chaotic carnival adventure, where their unique personalities lead to unpredictable situations.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Pietro Maximoff, Wade Wilson & Cable

Let's forget mutant rac*sm for one night, 'kay? No humans looking you weird because of who you are. These headcanons are pure joy.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan wasn’t exactly the carnival type. When he suggested taking you to one, you weren’t sure what had gotten into him. But there you were, walking hand-in-hand with him through the bustling crowd of people, the scent of popcorn and fried food filling the air. His rough exterior clashed humorously with the colorful surroundings, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he grumbled every time someone bumped into him or a ride screeched too loudly. He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

- “You are,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

- Logan grunted but gave a small smirk. “Figured you might like it. And besides, could use a little break from the usual crap.”

- You smiled at his thoughtfulness, squeezing his hand. You weren’t sure how long the peace would last, though, knowing Logan’s knack for attracting trouble. As if on cue, you spotted a strength-testing game nearby, the kind with the hammer and the bell at the top. Logan’s eyes narrowed as he noticed it too, and you instantly knew what was coming.

- “Wanna give it a try, tough guy?” you teased, already imagining the chaos this could cause.

- “Oh, I’m doin’ it,” Logan growled, determination in his voice as he dragged you over to the booth. The carnival worker looked a little too confident, like he’d never seen someone like Logan in his life. Logan picked up the hammer with ease, spinning it in his hands before positioning himself in front of the game.

- “You sure about this?” you asked, giggling at the way he sized up the machine like it was his next battle. But before you could say anything else, Logan swung the hammer down with full force. The bell didn’t just ring—it practically flew off the top of the pole with a loud clang, leaving the carnival worker standing there, slack-jawed.

- People around the game burst into laughter and applause, while Logan just shrugged and handed the hammer back like it was nothing. “Cheap machine,” he muttered, as if it had been a weak challenge. You couldn’t stop laughing, your sides aching as you tried to catch your breath.

- The carnival worker, still stunned, offered you both a giant stuffed bear as a prize. “For your troubles,” he said, eyeing Logan warily. You gladly accepted the bear, knowing Logan wasn’t the type to care about prizes.

- As you walked away, you leaned into Logan, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “You broke the carnival.”

- “Wasn’t my fault,” he grumbled, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Damn thing wasn’t built right.”

- Despite the chaotic start, the night continued with more laughs as Logan tried his best to blend in. He won you a few more prizes, though you could tell he was holding back on most of the games, trying not to cause too much destruction. The bumper cars were another story, though. The moment Logan got behind the wheel, all bets were off. He went after anyone who came close, slamming into other cars with a grin that told you he was enjoying this way too much.

- When the night ended, you were both loaded down with stuffed animals and prizes. “Well, that was… something,” you said, glancing up at Logan. He looked more relaxed than you’d seen him in a while, and despite the chaos, you were glad you had come.

- Logan gave you a sideways look, his hand finding yours again. “Yeah, it was somethin’,” he agreed. “But don’t think I’ll be doin’ this every week.”

- You laughed, pulling him close for a kiss. “Maybe once in a while. Just for fun.”

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- “You ready for dis, chérie?” Remy asked, his grin wide as he led you through the carnival entrance. His excitement was contagious, and you found yourself getting caught up in the lights and sounds, despite knowing that anything involving Remy was bound to lead to some kind of trouble. He held your hand loosely, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he scanned the carnival with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

- “Ready for what, exactly?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew better than to expect a quiet night when it came to Remy. The man thrived on chaos and fun, and carnivals were like his personal playground.

- “Everything!” Remy said dramatically, sweeping his arm to gesture at the carnival games, rides, and food stalls. “We gon’ win every prize, eat everythin’, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll take you up on dat Ferris wheel.”

- You laughed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos Remy was about to unleash. He dragged you toward the game booths first, eyeing the ring toss with a suspicious amount of confidence. “How ‘bout we start with somethin’ easy?”

- Remy tossed a few rings with the finesse of someone who had probably spent his life perfecting sleight of hand tricks. He made it look effortless, hitting the targets every time. The game worker handed you a small stuffed animal as a prize, but Remy wasn’t satisfied.

- “Non, non, I got more in me,” he said with a wink, flipping a coin in his fingers as he eyed the larger prizes. You tried to pull him away, knowing what was coming, but it was too late. Remy wasn’t playing fair anymore. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a ring that glowed faintly with kinetic energy, sending it perfectly onto one of the highest-scoring targets.

- The worker’s eyes widened, clearly confused by how Remy had managed that, but he handed over the grand prize—a ridiculously large stuffed tiger. “Here you go,” he said, casting Remy a suspicious look.

- “Merci, mon ami,” Remy said smoothly, handing the tiger to you with a flourish. “For you, ma belle.”

- You could only shake your head, trying to hold back your laughter. “You cheated,” you whispered, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way he was grinning like a kid who had gotten away with something.

- “Just a lil’ help,” Remy said, shrugging as he slung his arm around your shoulders. “Dat’s the fun, non?”

- The night continued in much the same way. Remy charmed his way through every booth, somehow managing to win every game despite the odds. He even convinced you to go on the Ferris wheel with him, though the moment the wheel started turning, he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “You scared of heights, chérie?”

- “Not until you said that,” you muttered, gripping the safety bar a little tighter. Remy laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as the Ferris wheel carried you both up to the top. From there, the chaos of the carnival seemed far below you, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

- That was until you got off the Ferris wheel and Remy decided to try his luck at one last game—a dart-throwing booth. “Watch dis,” he said confidently, picking up the darts. You watched, amused, as he tossed the first dart with perfect precision. It hit the target dead center, earning him another prize.

- But as Remy lined up his second dart, someone bumped into him, causing him to miss the target completely. The dart hit the edge of the booth and sent one of the stuffed animals flying into the air.

- The game worker let out a startled yell, and before you knew it, Remy was laughing so hard he could barely stand. “Oops,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t sorry at all.

- You grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the booth before things got worse. “I think that’s enough chaos for one night.”

- Remy flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ah, but you had fun, didn’t you?”

- You couldn’t deny it. “Yeah, I did. But next time, maybe we try something a little less… explosive.”

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- “Zis is amazing!” Kurt exclaimed as he looked around the carnival, his excitement contagious. His tail flicked back and forth as he took everything in—the lights, the music, the people. You smiled at his enthusiasm, knowing that Kurt’s childlike wonder could turn even the most ordinary event into something magical. But you also knew that wherever Kurt went, chaos was never far behind.

- “It’s just a carnival, Kurt,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile at how happy he looked. “You act like you’ve never been to one before.”

- Kurt grinned, his fangs peeking out in that charming way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Ja, but every time is like ze first time when you’re with me, mein Schatz.”

- You rolled your eyes but let him lead you through the crowd, his arm wrapped around your waist protectively. You could already see him eyeing the different carnival games with curiosity, and you knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

- The first sign of chaos came when Kurt spotted a haunted house attraction. His eyes lit up, and before you could protest, he had already bought tickets and was dragging you inside. “Zis vill be fun!” he promised, his tail curling in excitement.

- The haunted house was dark, and cheap jump scares popped out from every corner. Despite knowing they were fake, you still jumped every time something came at you. Kurt, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, laughing at every skeleton or ghoul that leaped out from the shadows. His hand remained on your lower back, guiding you through the twisting hallways, but you noticed his tail twitching in anticipation.

- Just as you both rounded a corner, a particularly loud scream echoed through the room, followed by a life-sized animatronic zombie lunging toward you. Without thinking, Kurt instinctively "bamfed"—disappearing into a cloud of smoke and reappearing right in front of the zombie. “Ach! You scared mein Schatz!” he exclaimed dramatically, holding out his hands as if scolding the fake creature.

- You burst into laughter, doubling over as Kurt’s display turned into a full-fledged performance, complete with mock outrage. “You realize it’s not real, right?” you said, trying to catch your breath between giggles.

- “Real or not, I vill not stand for zis disrespect!” Kurt said, grinning as his tail curled around your wrist. He gave a wink before "bamfing" again, appearing just behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

- As the haunted house continued, Kurt couldn’t resist teleporting around, jumping ahead to surprise you or appearing beside some of the animatronics to “challenge” them to a duel. By the time you reached the exit, both of you were breathless from laughter, and the haunted house employees were giving Kurt curious, amused looks.

- “Zat vas wunderbar!” Kurt declared, pulling you close for a quick kiss. “Ve should do zat again, ja?”

- “Maybe without the bamfing next time,” you teased, though you couldn’t deny how much fun it had been.

- The rest of the night continued in much the same way. Kurt’s excitement was infectious, and he couldn’t help but teleport around the carnival, grabbing prizes for you and whisking you off to different booths. At one point, he even teleported both of you onto the Ferris wheel, much to the operator’s confusion.

- As the night came to a close, Kurt wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the fireworks light up the sky. “Danke, mein Liebling,” he whispered, his tail wrapping around your wrist gently. “For making zis night perfect.”

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott had insisted on going to the carnival with a plan. A structured plan. “We’ll hit the games first, then maybe the rides, and after that, we can grab some food,” he said confidently, holding a map of the carnival in one hand as he walked beside you. You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking it, but that was just Scott.

- “You know, you can relax a little,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “It’s a carnival, not a mission.”

- Scott gave you a half-smile, adjusting his sunglasses. “I just want to make sure we get to do everything. There’s a lot to cover.”

- You appreciated his effort, but you knew Scott’s love of structure would inevitably clash with the chaos of the carnival. It didn’t take long for things to spiral. The first sign of trouble came when you reached the ring toss booth. Scott, ever the perfectionist, was determined to win you one of the giant stuffed animals. After missing a few rings, though, you could see the frustration building in his expression.

- “I don’t get it,” he muttered, lining up another ring. “I’m hitting the target dead-on. Why won’t it stay?”

- You bit back a laugh, knowing he was taking this far too seriously. “Maybe it’s rigged?” you suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

- Scott frowned, clearly not convinced. “I’m going to try again.”

- This time, you stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm gently. “It’s just a game, Scott. We can always try another one.”

- He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just wanted to win you something.”

- Your heart melted a little at his earnestness, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to win me anything. I’m happy just being here with you.”

- Scott’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

- Just as things seemed to calm down, the Ferris wheel caught Scott’s eye. “Let’s ride that next,” he suggested, glancing at the line. “We’ll be able to see the whole carnival from up there.”

- As you both waited in line, everything seemed to be going smoothly until, suddenly, one of the carnival workers tripped over a loose cable, causing a small electrical issue that made the Ferris wheel stop mid-turn. You both were stuck at the top, dangling in mid-air.

- “Great,” Scott muttered under his breath, looking at the non-functioning ride. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

- You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess even you can’t plan for everything.”

- He gave a resigned chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Guess you’re right.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the sun setting over the carnival from your vantage point in the sky.

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

- Bobby was the definition of carefree and fun, so when he suggested going to the carnival, you knew it would be a night full of laughter and mischief. “I’m gonna win you all the prizes,” he declared confidently as you both entered the carnival grounds, his hand laced with yours.

- “You sure about that?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What if I’m better at the games than you?”

- Bobby grinned, giving you a playful wink. “Oh, I *know* you’re competitive, but just wait. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

- The first game you both hit was the basketball toss. Bobby stepped up, flashing the carnival worker a confident smile. “Watch and learn, babe.”

- You crossed your arms, smirking as you watched him make his first shot—and miss. “Looks like you need some practice,” you teased, stifling a laugh.

- Bobby shot you a mock glare before lining up his next shot. This time, he nailed it, and you couldn’t help but cheer for him. “Told you I had this,” he said, accepting the prize from the worker—a small stuffed penguin, fittingly enough.

- As the night went on, Bobby’s playful antics kept you entertained. He made sure to try every game, even using his powers in small, sneaky ways to give himself an advantage. At one point, he froze the water gun in the shooting game just enough to keep it steady, winning a giant stuffed bear that he proudly handed over to you.

- “How many stuffed animals do you think we can carry?” you asked, laughing as Bobby piled yet another prize into your arms.

- “As many as it takes,” he said with a grin, but you could see the gleam in his eye that told you he was up to something.

- Sure enough, when you reached the ice cream stand, Bobby couldn’t resist using his powers to show off. He created a small ice sculpture of a penguin on your cone, earning a round of applause from the nearby kids.

- “You’re such a show-off,” you said, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

- “I know, I know,” Bobby said, bowing dramatically. “But admit it—you love it.”

- As the night continued, Bobby couldn’t resist getting into a bit of chaos. When you both reached the bumper cars, he made sure to freeze the track just enough to send everyone spinning wildly out of control. You could hear people laughing, completely unaware of the small patch of ice Bobby had created beneath their wheels.

- “Bobby!” you scolded, though you were laughing too hard to sound serious. “You’re going to get us kicked out!”

- “Nah, they’ll never know,” he said, giving you a wink as you both raced around the track, dodging the other cars. It wasn’t long before the ride attendant started looking suspicious, though, and Bobby quickly melted the ice before anyone could catch on.

- By the end of the night, you were both loaded down with prizes and stuffed animals, your sides aching from laughter. “Best. Night. Ever,” Bobby declared as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

- “Yeah, it was pretty amazing,” you agreed, leaning into him as you walked toward the exit. “But next time, maybe we keep the chaos to a minimum?”

- “Where’s the fun in that?” Bobby teased, planting a kiss on your temple.

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

- Warren always had an air of elegance and class about him, even at a carnival. From the moment you walked through the entrance, his hand resting on your lower back, he looked slightly out of place among the flashing lights and crowds. Still, he indulged your excitement, smiling at the prospect of a night filled with games and rides.

- “I’m not exactly used to this kind of... environment,” he admitted, adjusting his shirt as if he were still in some high-class event. You laughed, giving his arm a playful squeeze. “Don’t worry, Warren. Just follow my lead. We’ll start with something simple, like the ring toss.”

- At the game booth, Warren gave a polite nod to the carnival worker and then tried his best to follow the rules of the game. Unfortunately for him, his first few tosses were way off the mark, despite his best efforts. His wings twitched in mild frustration, and you could tell he wasn’t used to failure in any form.

- “Here, let me show you how it’s done,” you teased, stepping up and grabbing a ring. To your own surprise, your first throw landed perfectly around the bottle. You turned to Warren with a grin. “See? It’s all about aiming where you’re not trying to go.”

- Warren chuckled softly, though you could see the competitive spark in his eyes. He was always one to rise to a challenge. After a few more tries, he finally won, and with his natural grace, he handed you a giant stuffed bear. “For you, love. Even if it did take me longer than I expected.”

- Things really started to get chaotic when you both decided to go on the bumper cars. You didn’t think much of it, but Warren’s wings made it difficult for him to comfortably sit in the small car. “This... might not have been the best idea,” he muttered as he tried to squeeze in.

- You were already laughing as you got into your own car, watching Warren struggle to fit his wings within the tight confines. As the ride started, Warren immediately became a target for all the kids driving around, probably because of his wings sticking out awkwardly. Every few seconds, a car would bump into him, sending him jolting forward.

- “Why did I agree to this?” he grumbled, trying to avoid another hit. But when you managed to ram your car into his with a mischievous grin, Warren shot you an amused glare. “You’re going to pay for that.”

- The rest of the ride was a blur of chaotic bumper car mayhem. You laughed the whole time, but you could tell Warren was both trying to enjoy himself and maintain his dignity. By the end of it, his feathers were slightly ruffled, and he gave you a look that said he was never doing that again.

- As the night continued, Warren did loosen up, especially when you convinced him to go on the Ferris wheel with you. The view from the top was breathtaking, and for a moment, he seemed to relax completely, his arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. “Now *this* I can get used to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

- By the end of the night, despite the chaos, Warren admitted he had fun. “Next time, let’s try something a little more... refined,” he teased, though you knew he’d come back to the carnival with you any time you wanted.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik wasn’t exactly the kind of person who frequented carnivals. You knew it from the moment you suggested it, and the slight arch of his eyebrow told you he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A carnival? You’re serious?” he asked, arms crossed.

- “It’ll be fun,” you insisted, grabbing his hand. “Come on, Erik, when was the last time you let yourself just relax and enjoy something silly?”

- He sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “For you, I suppose I can make an exception.” That’s how you found yourself walking into the brightly lit carnival with one of the most powerful mutants in the world by your side, looking decidedly out of place but determined to humor you.

- It didn’t take long for things to start going wrong. Erik, being the master of magnetism, unintentionally interfered with several of the carnival rides. You were both standing in line for a simple spinning ride when it suddenly shut down. The operator seemed confused, scratching his head as the machinery stalled.

- “I didn’t even touch anything,” Erik muttered, though you shot him a knowing look. “Really, I didn’t.”

- “Maybe we should stick to games where you don’t have to be near anything metal,” you suggested with a grin, tugging him toward the balloon dart booth.

- Erik’s mood lightened a bit when you both started playing the carnival games. He didn’t have much interest in stuffed animals or prizes, but watching you get competitive at the ring toss and dart games made him smile in his own subtle way. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” he teased, watching as you missed another shot.

- “It’s harder than it looks!” you argued, but Erik just chuckled. With a flick of his fingers, he subtly guided one of your darts into a balloon, making it pop instantly. You turned to him with wide eyes. “Did you just—”

- “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said smoothly, smirking as the carnival worker handed you a prize.

- The real chaos came when you convinced him to try the strength tester, the game where you hit a hammer and try to ring the bell. Erik didn’t even bother to use his full strength—just a quick, casual swing, and the bell practically flew off the top, clattering onto the ground.

- “Well, that’s one way to win,” you said, trying to stifle your laughter as the carnival worker stared in shock.

- Erik shrugged, looking mildly amused as he glanced at the broken bell. “Not my fault they didn’t build it properly.”

- By the end of the night, despite the mishaps, Erik seemed to have enjoyed himself more than he’d admit. “It was... tolerable,” he said with a smirk, pulling you close. “But next time, let’s do something less likely to fall apart around me.”

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

- Going to a carnival with Pietro was a whirlwind—literally. From the moment you stepped through the gates, he was off, zipping from one game to the next, barely giving you time to catch up. “Come on, slowpoke!” he called out, already standing at the dart booth before you could even take your first step.

- “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile. Pietro’s energy was infectious, and you knew tonight would be full of chaos.

- It started with the games. Pietro was determined to win you every prize in the carnival, though his speed made it hard for him to slow down enough to actually play. At the ring toss, he zoomed through several rings before realizing none of them had landed. “This game is rigged,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

- “Maybe you should try slowing down,” you suggested with a grin, stepping up to take your turn. To your surprise, you managed to win on your second try, earning a small stuffed animal. Pietro looked at you with wide eyes, clearly impressed. “Okay, maybe you’re just better at this than I am.”

- The real chaos, though, came when you convinced him to go on the carousel. It seemed like a harmless enough ride, but as soon as it started moving, Pietro couldn’t resist the urge to speed it up. Before you knew it, the horses were spinning around at an alarming rate, and people were shouting in surprise.

- “Pietro!” you yelled, holding onto the pole for dear life. “Slow it down!”

- With a laugh, he finally let the ride return to its normal speed, though the other riders were clearly a little dizzy when they got off. “What? I thought it could use a little excitement,” he said with a mischievous grin.

- “You’re going to get us kicked out,” you teased, shaking your head as you both moved on to the next attraction.

- The bumper cars were a whole different level of chaos. Pietro’s speed allowed him to dodge every car with ease, leaving the other riders frustrated as they tried to catch him. You, on the other hand, found yourself being bumped into every few seconds as you tried to keep up.

- “You’re supposed to be on my team!” you shouted as Pietro zipped past you, laughing as he narrowly avoided another car.

- “Sorry, babe, no teams in bumper cars!” he called back, clearly enjoying himself.

- By the end of the night, you were both breathless from laughter and running around the carnival. Pietro wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked toward the exit. “That was fun,” he admitted, his usual cocky grin softening a bit. “We should do it again sometime.”

- “Maybe next time you’ll slow down long enough for me to actually enjoy it,” you teased, though you knew you wouldn’t change a thing about the chaotic, whirlwind night you’d had with him.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

- A carnival date with Wade, was bound to be one of the wildest experiences of your life. The second you stepped into the carnival, he was bouncing around like a kid who’d had way too much sugar. “Oh baby, this is gonna be epic! Carnies, cotton candy, and chaos—three of my favorite things!”

- Wade insisted on playing every game, but instead of trying to win prizes, he was more interested in “spicing things up.” At the dart throw, he purposely hit the ceiling instead of the balloons, declaring, “It’s reverse psychology! They’ll never see it coming!” The poor booth operator was at a loss for words, especially when Wade whipped out his katana, threatening to “pop them all at once.”

- “Wade, no weapons at the carnival,” you reminded him with a chuckle, pulling him away before he could get you both kicked out.

- The real chaos began when Wade spotted the Ferris wheel. “Do you know what this needs? A dramatic Ferris wheel kiss!” Before you could protest, Wade dragged you into a cart, somehow managing to cause a malfunction that stopped the wheel at the very top. The two of you were suspended in mid-air as Wade dramatically dipped you, trying to plant a kiss while also almost flipping you both out of the cart.

- “Wade! We’re gonna fall!” you shrieked, laughing despite yourself.

- “Then we’ll fall in love—literally!” he quipped, still holding onto you with one arm while the other waved madly for the carnival operator to fix the ride.

- After finally getting back on the ground, Wade couldn’t resist trying the bumper cars. This, naturally, turned into a high-speed chase where he decided to narrate the entire thing like a car chase in an action movie. “And Deadpool swerves to the left, narrowly avoiding that kid with cotton candy! But wait, here comes the love of his life, ready to T-bone him from the right!”

- By the time you left the carnival, both of you were banned from at least three rides, Wade had convinced a few people he was actually part of the entertainment, and you couldn’t stop laughing. As the night wound down, Wade gave you a surprisingly soft smile, taking your hand in his.

- “Y’know, this wasn’t half bad,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “You’re pretty fun, babe. And that’s saying something, ‘cause I’m the king of fun.”

- “You make chaos fun,” you teased back, leaning into him as you walked out of the carnival. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Nathan Summers (Cable)

- A carnival with Cable was a different kind of adventure. Nathan wasn’t exactly the carnival type, and you could tell by the way he scanned the crowd the moment you stepped in, his metal arm gleaming under the bright lights. “Do you ever stop being on alert?” you teased him, looping your arm through his.

- He gave you a half-smile, the kind that made your heart race. “Force of habit. But if you want me to relax, I’ll give it a shot.”

- The night started off relatively normal, at least by Cable standards. He begrudgingly tried a few games, and while he wasn’t exactly into it, you could tell he was making an effort for you. “This is rigged,” he muttered after missing a shot at the basketball hoop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

- “Or maybe you’re just out of practice,” you teased, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. But things took a turn when you both decided to ride the carousel.

- Halfway through, the ride glitched, and suddenly you found yourselves not in the carnival but in a different time period entirely. “Nathan, did you—?”

- “I didn’t do anything!” he said, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. The carousel horses were now galloping through a war-torn landscape, and Cable immediately shifted into battle mode.

- “We have to get out of here,” he growled, using his telekinesis to shield you from flying debris. Just when you thought you were stuck in this alternate timeline forever, Cable managed to fix the glitch, and you both tumbled back into the carnival with a thud.

- “Okay, no more rides,” you panted, laughing as you collapsed against him. Cable chuckled softly, wrapping his metal arm around you protectively.

- “Yeah, maybe we stick to something a little less... chaotic,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. But despite the madness, you couldn’t deny that the chaos had been kind of thrilling.

- As you left the carnival, Cable squeezed your hand, his usually stoic expression softening. “Next time, let’s just do dinner,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”