#anyway she hit the table with it in my general direction and I got really scared she was gonna hit me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wagemama-ningyo · 3 months ago

Text

Okay since someone asked me to I'm posting the entirety of my fic here under the cut!

i laugh like me again

Str4b3rryb1tch

Summary:

Wade is resolutely NOT looking at him when he answers, “I found some place to go for every dog except her. I can’t just leave her outside, look at her.” Logan sighs and takes a puff of his cigarette before speaking, “Where are we going to put her?” “I told you he wasn’t gonna go for it, dumbass.” “Can it, granma-” Wade starts on Al, so Logan plants a swift kick near Wade’s ass, “Ow.” Or the one where Logan can't help feeling like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Notes:

Listen. I wrote this fic in little bursts. It was supposed to be 6k. I don't know how we ended up here, but here we are. I decided to give Logan his own dog because I could, because he deserves to get good things in this world. As a genderfluid nonbinary person, I transed Wade's gender, because he deserves to have that ushy gushy. Anyways I hope y'all like this because I kinda actually like it a lot. Obligatory Hozier lyrics for my first fic in 20 years, and if you recognize me from fanfiction dot net or livejournal, no the fuck you do not. Beta'd by the ever wonderful RockyGetsRolling

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

When Deadpool flounces in the door, Mary Puppins in his arms, Logan trailing in behind him, he calls out, "Al, I brought home a dog!"

Wolverine is just in earshot to hear her mutter, "Dog can't smell any worse than your new girlfriend." As she pets the dog's weird tongue and grimaces.

Flash forward forty five minutes and he's standing in the middle of some drugstore with Red, eyeballing a hundred different kinds of shampoo. Great reminder that he came to this place with the clothes on his back, except not really, because most of his clothes were left back in the void, or shredded, in the case of his suit.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, Wade's too-tight t-shirt pinching at his biceps, and reaches out blindly. Whatever it is should work fine. They hit the body wash next, and Logan mumbles about "just a goddamn bar of soap" before Wade is throwing random bars in their basket and they're checking out.

"We'll get you some big boy clothes in the morning, princess. For now let's get you a shower." Wade turns and makes a suggestive face down the aisle with the cold medicine and Logan wishes now more than ever for a smoke. For being an unkillable, unstoppable mouth of a "hero", Wade Wilson’s life is shockingly domestic, and every minute that Logan spends trailing in behind him makes the mutant feel more and more out of place.

They trek back to the apartment, and stop at a small bodega where Wade grabs a newspaper, a pack of smokes for Althea, a tiny bag of dog food, and has a casual chat with the teenage boy manning the place. Logan stands by silently, feeling twitchier by the minute. He stares blankly at the back of Wade's head, until suddenly he's being asked a question.

"Huh?" He feels like he's snapping back into his body, and then Wade is pulling him by the wrist away from the bodega.

"Oh peanut, we have got to get your hearing checked." But Deadpool doesn't make an attempt to repeat himself, he just keeps yammering on about whatever thoughts pass through his skull and he keeps leading them to the apartment.

They make it back with Logan only feeling slightly like he's been thrust headfirst into a completely different universe, and they head in, dumping their spoils on the kitchen table.

"D' you want some coffee? Al and I drink the bougiest - some shit off brand. You can scrounge in the cabinets, but watch out for the coffee pot, she's a real bitch." Wade gestures in the general direction of the coffee machine, already peeling out of his clothes as he heads for the shower.

Logan, still hesitant to scour the cabinets, finds the coffee, fills up the pot with water at the sink, and sets about brewing a pot in the yellow overhead lighting of the small-ish kitchen. He tries not to think about how out of place he feels, and how very normal everything is all of a sudden. It feels like being dunked in cold water, being able to walk down the street and enter a shop and not be spat on just for existing. There's something about the whole thing that has him feeling on edge.

"Fuck. Goddamn it." The coffee machine IS a bitch, it's sputtering and shooting scalding java all over the counter and Logan, who was standing just a hair too close, pulling him out of his own head. He slams his fist down on the lid and it shifts once, one more good knock and - he's somehow put his fist through the plaster of the wall,

"Oooh, big feelings, Honey badger." Deadpool, clad in an oversized hoodie and some god awful "juicy" sweatpants, shoves him gently out of the way as he un-fucks his fist from the walls shiny new asshole, "You've gotta get the pot on there just right or she turns into the world's meanest spitter. After you, of course."

Logan can feel a twitch near his temple as his blood pressure starts to raise. He takes a deep breath and flexes his hand, silently.

Wade is standing close, so Logan takes a step away, and as he does Wade gives a little 'pat' on his behind, and Logan for a moment isn't sure it actually happened, it went so fast. The twitch in his temple becomes the start of a throbbing headache, so he walks over to the table and sits down while Red gets some mugs from the tiny old dishwasher.

The other man is digging in the fridge for what seems like an eternity before his head pops up and he produces what Logan assumes is milk or cream, before Wade brings everything over to the table that is still covered in bags.

Logan takes his coffee with cream and no sugar, and watches Wade with tired eyes as he pours spoon after spoon of sugar into his mug before adding the world's largest ‘splash’ of cream.

“Barely coffee at that point, bub.” He takes a long pull of coffee into his mouth and sighs, it feels like a thousand years since he’s had a moment to really relax. Wade starts chattering, the one sided conversation bouncing from coffee to a shop two blocks down, and then as Logan is blinking though it all, he realizes he’s been asked another question. “Didn’t catch that.”

Wade cocks his head slightly, “Listen Logie Bear, I know it’s common in guys your age to have some hearing loss, but-”

“Just tell me what you were asking.” He sets the mug down, gut churning, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He watches as Wade licks his lips and fiddles with his cup of coffee.

“Our sleeping arrangement is less than ideal. Al’s got the bedroom and I usually take the couch. It’s a pull out, but it’s not the most comfortable thing in the world.”

Logan nods and takes another deep swig of coffee before answering, “I’ll sleep on the floor, it’s not my place to put you out.”

Wade gives a smile that could be a grin, or a grimace. “Well, sweetness, as kind as that is, that’s actually more dangerous for Al. She needs the floors cleared for the most part. If you don’t mind, we could bunk together.”

He considers the other man for a moment, letting the steam from the two cups trail up between them, “You don’t want me in your bed, Red.”

The noise Wade makes sounds like a choked whimper, and Logan’s brow furrows, “You have no idea how badly, but that’s besides the point. You can’t sleep on the floor and I’m exceptionally cuddly. So now that that’s settled, how about you finish your coffee and get all that incredibly attractive sweat off. The water should be warm enough any time now.”

Logan takes another drink and thinks about what it must be like to flirt with anything with legs,but doesn’t comment on the apparently settled matter. It’s late in the evening, and who is he to look a gift-merc in the mouth? Draining his mug, he stands, before Wade takes the cup from him and smiles, setting it back down on the table.

He makes his way into the bathroom, pulling a towel out from where he had been shown and noting that Wade left his slung over the shower curtain so it wouldn’t mildew while it dried out. As he kicks on the shower and peels out of his too-tight borrowed t-shirt and the remnants of his dirty yellow suit pants, he wonders briefly what would possess him to follow Wade home, and then he steps under the spray and his brain turns off - until he realizes he’s left all the soap on the kitchen table. He glances around the shower and sees a few products, but nothing simple. Conditioners and he thinks there’s a bottle of lube in there but at the point he’s about to holler out for Wade, when mercifully the man comes knocking on the door.

“Hey, peanut, you didn’t take your shampoo. Are you decent?” Logan is suddenly mortified.

“I’m good,” He calls, thankful for the shower curtain barrier as Wade comes in and starts to pass him his new shower products, “Thanks, Red.”

The other man is humming quietly as he passes Logan’s products into the shower, “Need anything else? I'll bring you a change of clothes so that you’re not so nakey.”

If Logan’s hands weren’t full of soap and shampoo he would bury his face in them. Jesus Christ. He sets down a bottle of shampoo, a brick of soap, and some other bottles, before grabbing the shampoo and being pleasantly surprised when the stout pink bottle opens and smells of grapefruit. Not quite what he was expecting when he grabbed it, but whatever. He pours what looks like a decent amount onto his hands, and then pours a little more for good measure - he’s been through hell and he doesn’t want to come out of this shower smelling anything like the human garbage can that he entered as.

He’s scrubbing his scalp as gently as a 400 lb man can scrub anything when he hears Wade come back in and he freezes for a second, “Clothes are on the sink, angel baby.”

The door is closing behind Wade and Logan is breathing again. He doesn’t get why he’s so jumpy, so tense. They went on a two day long killing spree, and walked out the ass end of it just fine, no lasting damage. He feels fucking nervous, like the floor is about to drop out from under him, and given that he’s been to several businesses and met a hand full of people today that were downright nice to him, he can’t tell why. He wishes, for a minute, that he could ask Jean about it. She was always good with the psychobabble bullshit. But his Jean is long gone, and rather fortunately for Logan he doesn’t think he will be going back to the world where he lost her anytime soon.

He steps under the spray and nearly groans when he feels the water rinsing the dirt out of his hair, and picks the bottle up to glance at the label, blinking soap suds from his eyes, forgetting the last time he had such a nice goddamn shower. He isn’t quite sure what exactly ‘clarifying’ shampoo does other than cleaning his hair, but he’s not mad at how clean his head feels. He goes in one more time, just for good measure, with the shampoo. Rinse and repeat, right?

The brick of soap is some square fucking thing, with some fancy ass cardboard label, and he pries it open and starts lathering his body. He knows he’s on borrowed time with the water heater, but he just can’t bring himself to give a single fuck about the fact that the water will run cold any minute now. Whatever the soap is does the job just fine, some kind of grit in the bar really getting into the grime of the last few days.

He picks up another bottle and scoffs, it’s conditioner. Wade went to the trouble of buying it, and somehow put more care into Logan's hair than the man ever has for himself, so he shrugs and uses it, water edging on not-hot to suddenly icey cold and he stops the flow of it to towel off.

The clothes Wade has left are absolutely absurd, a massive, pink t-shirt with red hearts and big bubble letters that reads ‘FUCK’, and Logan throws it back on the sink before finding a comfortable looking pair of (thankfully normal looking) sweat pants. They’re so big that Logan has to pull the strings pretty tightly to keep them up, and he makes a note to ask Wade what the fuck he’s doing with these clothes. He considers for a second before slipping the shirt on, rather than going bare chested and exposed. He might not be all that shy, really, but a little armor never hurt a guy.

Making his way to the living room, he notes that Al and Wade are sitting around a kind of shitty makeshift bed for the dog, cooing at her as smoke from Althea’s lit cigarette wafts through the room.

He clears his throat and announces his presence before making his way over to Althea, “Ma’am. Would you mind if I had a smoke?”

“Go ahead, hot stuff. Numbskull here will smoke ‘em all up anyways so you might as well have one or two.” She laughs humorlessly, gesturing to Wade who balks.

“Yeah and who buys the replacements, Al?” Wade pulls a face that he knows she can’t see, and pulls her hand off the dog’s butt, which she has been trying to feed what looks like a scrap of chicken.

Logan grabs the pack of smokes off the coffee table and notes that Wade has yet another cup of not-quite-coffee half downed. He takes the first puff and instantly feels better, all loose bones and clearer head when he sits down on the ratty couch. Some cooking show is playing on the TV and before he realizes it he’s smoked up the cigarette and relaxed so much he’s passed out on the couch.

It’s dark when Wade shoves at his shoulder and he startles awake, balled fists and scowling - the TV illuminating Wade, his hands up in surrender, “Hey big boy, I just need to pull out the couch. We all can’t pass out where we fall. I need to get all nice and snuggly.”

A brief look around the room and Althea is gone, the TV is much quieter and Mary has abandoned her post of makeshift bed to leave a massive drool-spot in the center of Althea’s chair.

He clears his dry throat, swallows, and heaves himself off the couch so that Wade can get the pull out situated, and heads into the bathroom for a leak.

When he returns a side lamp has been clicked on, the TV clicked off, and Wade and Mary are in the bed, with Wade on the left side, and Mary poised gently on his chest. There’s a pillow on his side of the bed and he shuffles over to the edge of the mattress before peeling back the covers and startling Wade.

“Holy Me we need to get you a bell, kitten whiskers. You really know how to creep up on a guy.” The lamp is on Logan’s side of the bed and he sits down on the edge of the bed which creaks and groans violently in the quiet of the room.

“You need this, bub?” He gestures at the lamp and in the dim light he sees Wade, who is pressing kisses to Mary’s little nose, shakes his head and makes a little ‘uh-uh’ noise.

They’re swathed in darkness and it isn’t long before Logan is once again relaxing enough for sleep.

He shoots up violently, dislodging the dog from his chest where she was licking at his neck and chin in his sleep and into his arms, as he looks around the sun speckled room to find himself alone. There is quiet chatter coming from the kitchen, and he takes a deep breath and pets Mary gently before setting her down on the floor.

Barefoot, he makes his way into the smokey kitchen where Al and Wade and that man from the car lot sit at the table, all nursing mugs of coffee and coffee-adjacent.

“Morning, peaches, Peter was an absolute angel and brought us bagels.” Wade gestures to the counter where a bulky and misshapen paper bag sits dutifully.

There is a coffee mug sitting next to it and Logan picks it up and gives a halfhearted salute to Peter.

“Well I’ve gotta go, I just wanted to stop by and bring breakfast. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, Logan.” Logan hums while he fixes his cuppa and turns to see the most normal of all the people he’s met so far standing.

Wade stands too and glances over at Logan for a moment before walking Peter to the door. When they leave the kitchen they resume a low chatter and they must stay talking at the door for a minute.

“Morning Althea.” Logan is digging in the brown sack for a bagel, grabbing one before turning to sit down.

“Good morning, baby. You're gonna take that boy of yours out today and you’re gonna get you some clothes that don’t make you look like someone’s washed up ken doll.” She digs in her fanny pack for a moment and when she reaches out he meets her half way, she’s pressing a tightly curled up wad of cash into his outstretched hand.

He balks for a minute, “No ma’am I can’t take this-”

“Shh, quiet down, I don’t want him to know. Selfish little shithead will keep you all to himself and I want you to stick around to do chores for me. And anyways you need something nice so that you can find a job.” She folds his fingers over the cash and he feels a curl of shame in his gut for a moment.

“Yes ma'am.” He swallows hard and tucks the rolled up money into the pocket of his pants.

Wade rounds the corner with Mary in his arms and plucks the lit cigarette from Al's fingers before placing it on his lips and depositing Mary in Logan's lap.

“Is my good girl ready for breakfast?! Yes she is. Yes she is!” He breaks out a shallow dish that's clearly been around a while and puts a bit of dog food in it before running it under the tap. “Here, baby.”

He sets the dish down and Mary comes right to him, perfectly trained in the art of sniffing out food. Logan takes a bite of his bagel, which he had been sneaking the dog tiny bites of, and watches.

His head feels clear - clearer, at least, than it did last night - and he’s almost certain that if he plays his cards right he can find a job easily enough. He just has to get out there. That can’t be that hard.

As he tries to convince himself of the ease of finding a job in a new world, he realizes that Wade has been talking to him and feels himself phase in, mid sentence -

“And I think that we can hit a few good thrift stores because contributing to fast fashion is really a fucking disaster, you know?” Logan nods curtly, mouth full of bagel and schmear, “We can pick up some underwear at the supermarket, god knows you can’t share my hello kitty boxers forever.”

Logan hadn’t realized that was what was adorning his borrowed skivvies, but it made sense. Hello Kitty was popular like twenty years back, but with Wade very little would surprise him. Mouth clear, he watched as Althea stood and put the stub of her second smoke out on the table, instead of the ash tray. He winced a little and picked up the butt off the seemingly previously scorched table, if the little burnt-rings had any say about it, and placed it into the ashtray. As Althea made her way out of the room she kicked a bit at Wade’s leg, making Logan tilt his head.

“Ma you don’t have to like it, you have bridge club and we’ve gotta get this man in some actual clothes.” She grumbles and slams through the bedroom door and that seems to be the extent of the conversation with her.

They’re walking down the street, Logan's hands in the far too big pockets of the massive sweatpants, and Wade whistling an obnoxious off-key-something. Wade leads him three streets over, before they find the first place. They pick up a few nicer, although a little worn, flannels - and he gets at least three pairs of really good fitting jeans. The next stop he finds a few t-shirts in his size with no obscene logos on them, and Logan is happy to change into a pair of jeans and a shirt that isn’t blindingly pink.

When they make their way into the supermarket Wade sends Logan to the men's section while he goes his own way, and Logan picks out a package of white tanks, some socks, and two packages of underwear. Wade didn’t exactly tell him where he’d be going, so he loiters for a few minutes before heading to the shoe section of the store.

He tries on a few pairs of plain sneakers, and finally settles on a pretty cheap pair before seeking out the inevitable big ticket item: work boots. The price tag has him wincing, but he knows that it will be a need, he’s only got so much money to work with so he doesn’t think twice about it before he grabs a leather pair that fits well.

As he heads towards the front of the store, he sees Red a few aisles down, and heads towards him. The scarred man is standing at the electronics counter and greets him as he approaches.

“Hi babycakes, did you find what you were looking for?” Wade peers into his basket and Logan feels a bit of heat creep into his ears, “ Ooh you did. I’m getting you all hooked up with a smartphone. Do they have those where you’re from?”

Logan pinches the bridge of his nose with the hand that isn’t carrying a pretty full basket and nods, “They have smartphones in Canada, bub.”

Wade wags his eyebrows meaningfully at the teenager behind the counter who chews gum noisily and pays him no mind.

Logan sets his basket down, reaching into his pocket, “Al gave me some money, so-”

“Ooh you’re a sugar baby now, Wolvie?” Wade cackles gleefully, “Keep it for something pretty, I’ve got your shit today.”

There's a bit of a rush in his ears while Red talks him through the phone set up, stopping to ask the teen behind the counter questions here and there. It’s not the best phone on the market but they stop through the aisle and grab a pretty good case for it so that he doesn’t destroy the thing immediately, and then they’re checking out and heading back towards the apartment. Logan doesn’t think he’s ever carried this many bags at once, Wade not taking anything. Logan is even carrying a big overstuffed dog bed under one arm and feels like he looks absolutely ridiculous.

When they get back to the apartment it’s a little early in the evening and Logan feels like he could eat through all of Manhattan. Who the hell knew shopping could starve a man?

Logan doesn’t voice his needs, as Wade shows him where he can put his clothes in the closet in Al’s room, hangers already available. Red fucks off into the kitchen while Logan starts the most mundane task he think’s he’s ever experienced. By the time he’s done the TV is droning random scraps of sound in the living room and Wade’s sitting on the couch flicking through Netflix which keeps playing trailers for random shit.

Logan joins him, grabbing a smoke from the package that’s conveniently placed in the same spot it was last night. He offers one to Red, who shakes his head and really seems to lock into the television. He stays focused before he finally settles on some cartoon. Logan mapping the room, and Wade sitting in the weirdest stretch of silence Logan has ever been in when there’s a knock at the door and Wade shoots off the couch.

When he returns, Wades arms are loaded with bags of takeout, and whatever the fuck is in the two bags smells heavenly, “I ordered Thai. I didn’t know what you would want so I got a little bit of everything.”

Logan grabs a bag from him as he returns to his seat on the couch and they dig into the food, sandwiches and curry and rice passed back and forth between the two of them like the most natural thing in the world.

When they finish, Logan stands and clears up the mess, putting leftovers in the fridge and tossing empty paper containers before snagging the newspaper off the table in the kitchen. He stands there for a minute, looking for any kind of ‘help wanted’s’ or the like. He notes a few, considering them as he makes his way back to the couch.

“What you got there, peanut?” Wade is peering curiously over from his side of the couch and Logan presses the paper over to him.

“Job hunt.” He stares straight ahead, trying not to look as absolutely mortified as he feels. Was existence always this embarrassing?

Wade’s face is unreadable as he looks down at the paper in his hands, “Angel baby, you know you can, like. Take a few days and get adjusted. You’ve been here five minutes.”

Logan clears his throat before he decides to speak, “I’ve gotta do something.”

Red passes the paper back to him and shrugs, “You take the time you need to do that. Don’t feel like you’ve gotta get out there if you’re not ready. Besides, Ma and I need a big strong man around the house. It’s good for morale.”

Wade says the last bit like it’s a punchline but Logan flushes anyway. They don’t talk about it.

That night they’re laying on the pull out, Logan on the edge of sleep, when Red’s phone pings and the mattress dips. Logan lays there blinking in the darkness and listens to the other man quietly gearing up and heading out.

In the morning, Logan wakes slowly, blinking as sunlight streams in through the flimsy curtains. He checks his phone and it’s sometime around nine in the morning. The apartment is quiet, and he wanders from the bed into the bathroom before making his way into the kitchen. It’s still, and he sits down at the table for a moment. His skin feels tight and he rubs a hand over his face before he stands and heads back into the living room.

Logan is fighting tooth and nail with the pull out, trying to close it up when Wade trips into the apartment, red mask peeled up, slurping through a straw at some fluffy looking coffee-approximation. He passes a paper cup to Logan and fucks off into Al’s bedroom before the apartment is bathed in silence again.

It’s a few hours later that he emerges and makes a face at Logan who is sitting, scrolling on his new phone on the (thankfully couch shaped) couch. “Morning, Peaches.”

Wade is wearing a ridiculous moo-moo, it’s covered in surfboards and palm trees, drinking the melted remains of the cup he had been drinking from earlier, and Logan peers up at him for a moment before going back to his scrolling. He’s still got his mask on, rolled up just under his nose.

Wade flounces onto the couch, legs pulled up to his chest, feet towards Logan, and they sit in relative silence while they both scroll through their phones. After a little while, Wade’s head nods and he’s taking a little nap, right there next to Logan.

The next few days go pretty similarly, Wade disappearing every now and again for a stretch of time and then bringing home some kind of ‘treat’. Sometimes it’s a meal, sometimes it’s a few cigars. Logan has pieced together a hellishly worded resume that seems to be more fiction than truth, and he’s put in for a few different jobs that he hasn’t heard back from. There’s a plant shop ad that keeps popping up on his searches, looking for someone who can ‘lift 60+ lbs’ and someone who isn’t afraid to get dirty. Logan figures anything is better than sitting on the couch for the rest of his endless life, so he applies and goes about his day. When his phone pings his heart leaps into his throat for a moment and he takes a beat before he picks it up to check it.

He seemingly nails the interview and they want him to start pretty immediately, so when he tells Wade that night they have some celebratory beers and watch some shit TV.

The next morning Wade hasn’t come home when Logan heads out the door to leave for the day. Training at the plant shop is fairly simple. He doesn’t have to worry about running the register for a few days at least, and he’s working with two teens and a lady that is the shop-mom. It’s a family run business, but they needed someone able to lift the bigger plants and the big bags of soil on a regular basis, enter Logan. He’s not super confident about the plant names, but the girls are able to point out things that he think’s eventually he will remember.

It’s a long day, and wouldn’t you know the door is unlocked when he gets back to the apartment - only, it smells off. Not bad, just off. When he opens the door he is greeted by a rather chaotic sight, Wade sitting on the couch between a massive, scarred up dog on one side, and Mary Puppins on the other. Althea is reclined in her chair, smoking what looks to be her third or fourth cigarette.

His face creases as he toes off his boots and makes his way over to the absolute unit of an animal in his seat, but he doesn’t break the silence in the apartment, Wade staring at him seemingly nervous.

“Hey there, Honey Badger. What were you thinking for dinner?” He blinks up at Logan, as if everything was alright in the world. Logan ignores his question.

“Althea, how are you this evening?” Logan clicks his fingers at Wade, gesturing for him to give up his seat - which, miraculously, works, “And what’s with the dog?”

“Hello sweetie, how was work?” Al holds out her pack of smokes to him, and he takes one and lights it. The rottweiler next to him pants loudly.

Wade snatches up a newspaper from his new seat on the floor and passes it up to Logan, who arches a brow at it, “‘BAD DOGS IN THE POUND: Masked Hero Busts Dog Fighting Ring!’ What the hell, Red?”

Wade is resolutely NOT looking at him when he answers, “I found some place to go for every dog except her. I can’t just leave her outside, look at her.”

Logan sighs and takes a puff of his cigarette before speaking, “Where are we going to put her?”

“I told you he wasn’t gonna go for it, dumbass.”

“Can it, granma-” Wade starts on Al, so Logan plants a swift kick near Wade’s ass, “Ow.”

They sit in silence for a while, smoking and listening to the big dog pant. Wade has deflated, all fake confidence about bringing home a beat up fighting dog gone as his head sinks low and he pouts.

“Let's do Indian for dinner.” Logans says, settling the matter with finality. He’s not a monster, and if they can take in one mean street dog, what’s a second one gonna hurt?

That night, they pull the bed out and Charlotte presses her back against the door to the apartment, laying on her side with her eyes wide open, waiting. Wade’s snuffling quietly in his sleep and Logan can’t help but stare back at the dog. He’s laying on his side when he scoots, shuffling and inching closer to Wade. When his back is pressed a hair's width up against the other man he lets out a low whistle and pats at the mattress in front of him.

Charlotte picks her head up and tilts that big face at him, and he sighs, patting the bed again. Slowly, she gets up off the floor and makes her way over to the pull out. It’s a tight squeeze, but he makes room for her and she lays her head down on the pillow next to him. When he wakes up in the morning he’s sandwiched between two great big idiots, body pressed in between them like one big idiot family. He closes his eyes and goes back to sleep for a while longer.

Logan’s days go much like that, waking up sometimes sandwiched between an idiot and Charlotte, and sometimes with the bed to himself. On days that Wade isn’t home when he goes off to work he takes the girls on their walk and leaves them. He’s always a little sad to leave, Mary is definitely Wade's dog, but Charlotte is all him. Sometimes after walkies, she will hop up on the still unfolded pull out and play bow, trying to initiate play with Mary, who just stares. The first time Logan does a little downshift-crouch and matches her energy, the dog absolutely tears through the apartment, running from the kitchen to the bed and jumping up on her hind legs to push off his chest, and then back and forth again. She runs like she never got the chance to before in her life, and Logan - a sucker, lets her. He’s certain that Wade's intention wasn’t to bring a big ass dog home when he went out the night of the dog fighting ring bust, but he’s very glad Charlotte came home when she did.

In the evenings, when he comes home from work, he toes off his boots and stuffs his feet into Wade’s crocs, before grabbing the girl's collars from the hook near the door. The instant they jingle, eight feet come tumbling towards him, tails wagging, all smiling snouts. The only time it’s not perfect is when it’s raining. Mary is easy, you pick her up and set her down on a patch of grass, she does her business. Charlotte? She weighs ten tons, and makes it practically impossible to get through the door to the apartment. She doesn’t like the wet cement on her paws, so he gets her a pair of boots. She doesn’t like when her fur on her face gets wet, so he gets her a little visor to keep the rain out of her eyes. The little phone that Wade got for Logan came loaded with an app that has an option for same day shipping and boy does he abuse it.

The days are much the same; wake up, walk the dogs. Go to work, lug a few trees here and there, come home. Walk the dogs again. Settle down and watch whatever Althea or Wade is playing, and then go to bed and lay there while he waits for Red to leave. It starts to eat at him but he never brings it up. It’s exhausting to run the night shift, he knows, so he doesn’t pester Wade about it.

He’s standing at the checkout counting the order that was just delivered when the shop’s bell dings, and he doesn’t look up as one of the girls welcomes the customer.

“Hey, how are you today?” Angel, the youngest, smiles whenever a customer comes in, “Are you looking for a new plant baby?”

“Oh no, I’ve come to see Hugh Jackman!” Logan stifles a groan as Wade comes around the shelves to stand in front of the register, “Babygirl, you’re looking lovely as always.”

Logan rolls his eyes, but sets the paper down, “What do you want, Red.”

Wade smiles and plops a plastic bag on the counter, “Can’t a man bring his wife some lunch?”

Logan goes on break and they go and sit at a bench a few shops down, eating hoagies - Logan mostly silently, while Wade chatters on and on. “And I told them that they have no say in what kind of people are in or out of the apartment building, we are making this crack house a crack HOME-”

Logan squints around a mouthful, swallowing hard, “We should move.”

“That’s exactly what I thought - Wait, what?” Wade does a bit of a double take, surprise etched onto his scarred face, “Do you not like the apartment?”

“‘S not exactly big enough for all of us.” Logan feels like he’s edging into strange waters, like maybe bringing it up was a mistake. “The dogs.”

Wade thinks for a minute, temporary silence letting Logan really hear the bustle of the street in front of him, and he thinks that he could say he was kidding, just a joke; nothing serious, don’t look so sad, bub - “We would have to take Al, can’t just leave her to her own devices.”

Logan blinks, relief flooding through him. “A’course. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When Logan goes back to work the little knot of anxiety that started in him ebbs away, replaced by the strangest feeling of belonging. That other shoe is gonna drop, but maybe he will land on his feet when it does.

That night he walks up to the apartment, dinner in hand for the three of them, and makes sure to kick over the little lawn gnome statue outside the neighbor’s house, just a little fuck you about whatever they had been complaining to Wade about earlier.

The days go on and on, Logan slowly saving up bits of his paycheck and Wade coming home with odds and ends that he picks up on missions, or wherever he fucks off to most nights. Logan wonders one morning, in the back of his mind, if he’s not fucking off to Vanessa’s and he is pissy for the rest of the day. He LIKES Vanessa. He likes Wade. Wade’s obviously going to fucking make his little life together with her and move on. Of course he’s not going to stay in this shitty little apartment with an old blind woman and an old pile of metal bones. And if Logan drinks a few extra beers, or smokes a little too many cigars that week, well. Who the fuck is counting.

It’s starting off a bad week for Logan, Mary gnawed at his left work boot and left little tooth marks all over the leather, he forgot his lunch on the kitchen counter, Wade had come in as he was leaving looking beat to shit and hadn’t said two words to Logan. He didn’t have it in him to take it out on the dog, as irritating as it was that she had chewed the leather up it wasn’t her fault. He was ten minutes late to work because Charlotte couldn’t find the best place to poo, and he missed the delivery guy by three minutes, and when he got into the shop he tripped over a ficus and snapped the top half of the plant off on his way down.

Now he’s standing in front of Liz, the owner of the plant shop, with half a ficus dripping milky white sap onto his chewn boot.

“Really Logan, it’s not a big deal, it’s plants. You didn’t kill anyone, relax.” He grits his teeth, nodding as she walks away, still trying to text the company about rescheduling their delivery.

When lunch comes and he finally remembers the nice packed lunch he made for himself he curses and kicks at a bag of potting soil; which, ever so helpful, splits right down the center and spills over the floor. He buries his face in his hands, and then the door bell chimes.

“Honey, I’m home- Logan?” The cheerful voice of Wade forces Logan to pull his hands away and straighten up, “Hey, babycakes what’s the matter?”

Wade is standing in one of his ridiculous unicorn crop tops, with a bag of food in one hand, and a drink carrier from that coffee place he liked down the block in the other.

“M’Alright, bub.” Logan's voice comes out gravelly, but he stands up a bit straighter.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s having a bitch of a day.” Liz, who wasn’t there moments ago barges into the conversation, “Logan, go home, have some lunch and come back tomorrow. It’s not that serious.”

Wade is blissfully quiet on the way home, still chipper, but seemingly respectful of the shitshow of a day that Logan’s been having. They make their way into the apartment where they are met with the goodest of girls, as usual. Logan bends down and presses a kiss to Charlotte’s forehead before making his way into the kitchen after Wade.

“So big guy, you wanna talk about it?” Wade is unpacking the bag, its contents are fragrant styrofoam containers of Indian rice and curries.

Logan sits, frowning, as the chair creaks under his weight but doesn’t say anything. He reaches across the table and grabs his (obviously his, Wade gets some kind of blended shit for coffee and Logan gets black coffee with cream) coffee cup.

“Mums the word, then huh, cupcake? Unsurprising that you can’t communicate your feelings but I figured I’d give it the old college try. It’s what Scoutmaster Kevin would have wanted.” Wade babbles as he doles out the curry, putting a vindaloo in front of Logan and something green and delicious looking at his own place. There’s a fat stack of naan for each of them, wrapped up in tin foil, and some vegetable samosas that Wade ordered just for Logan.

“M’alright, Red. Just a bad day.” Logan doesn’t take his eyes off the curry in front of him, lest he watch Wade shovel the food into his mouth with his hands like a monster (Wade will exclaim that that’s how it's SUPPOSED to be eaten).

Wade shrugs around a mouthful of rice, “You can still tell me about it, mijo.”

“How's Vanessa?” Logan doesn’t mean it to be a low blow, but it looks like it winds Red for a minute, who squints at Logan and snatches up a samosa, shoving the whole thing in his mouth before he answers.

“Vanessa is good. So is Dermott,” Logan winces as Wade talks around the pastry, he swallows dramatically before he starts speaking again, “But this isn’t about my friends. This is about you, honey badger.”

Logan rolls his eyes before reaching over and scooping up whatever green curry Wade has been shoveling into his face. As he thought, its fucking delicious.

“I want that next time.”

Wade takes up Logan's plate and swaps it with his own, always so goddamn selfless. Logan huffs, but continues eating.

They snipe little comments back and forth at each other, but otherwise the meal is rather peaceful. Logan definitely doesn’t cram down the little bit inside of him that wants to pump his fist in the air because Vanessa is still with that other dickwad instead of his dickwad. Logan doesn’t need deep introspection to know that after two hundred plus years he was feeling jealous, which started the whole mess of the bad week. He kicks Wade under the table, for the trouble of it all. They don’t talk about it.

They spend the rest of the evening watching some anime that Logan can’t keep up with, so he scrolls through apartment listings on his phone and he tries to find something that will fit them all well. Three bedrooms, maybe two bathrooms, and a yard with some actual space. They sit in companionable silence well into the evening when Althea comes bustling through the door with a gentleman in tow. Wade clicks off the TV and stands, grimacing.

“Well Honey Badger, let’s clear out of here.” Logan is a little confused but puts his shoes on and follows Wade out the door.

They head out into the night, all crisp air and windchill - Wade taking crazy turns and odd pathing. Logan figures that he’s not actually headed anywhere, he’s just being a dick, and then bumps into the scarred man's back. They’re standing in front of what looks to be a seedy, dingy bar at least a mile or two from the apartment. Wade laughs a little as Logan steps back, flushed.

Logan follows Red into the bar and they find a small corner booth. The place is dimly lit and smells like industrial strength cleaner, but there’s a few people scattered here and there at tables and there’s some game playing on the tv’s.

“You want a beer, or…?” Wade leaves the question open and Logan jerks his head affirmatively.

“Beer’s fine.” Logan scoots into the booth and Wade takes off for the bar, where he claps the back of a bald man doing the worlds worst impression of a biker. They talk for a few minutes, while Wade holds two condensating bottles of whatever’s cheapest, and then Red heads back over to him. The bottle’s are slippery from the heat of the room, and Logan’s hand slides over Wade’s for a brief moment as he passes the bottle over. They don’t talk about it.

Wade is staring, open mouthed at whatever the fucking game is on the screen behind Logan’s head and Logan is fiddling with the bowl of peanuts in front of him when Logan picks up a shelled nut and chucks one at Red, hitting him square in the mouth.

Wade jerks but closes his mouth and stares at Logan, chewing the nut up before he speaks, “Someone needs a little attention. Whatsa matter big guy, all out of brooding thoughts in there?”

“Fuck off.” Logan rolls his eyes and launches another nut at Wade, who dodges - it hits the head of some guy sitting two booths over and Logan stifles a grin.

Inadvertently, he should have known it would start a nut-war, Wade giving as good as he gets. Logan ends up with salt lacing his clothes and hair from where the peanuts land and roll off him, he’s not as fast as Wade at dodging.

They stay there for hours, drinking beers and eventually switching over to whiskey; Wade got some sweet shit with a bee on the logo, but whatever. They get as close to shitfaced as two super-healing entities can get and they stumble from the bar. Logan nearly walks out into the street before Wade catches him and pulls him a little too close. They end up a parody of how they first met, Logan’s arm slung over Red’s shoulders, but this time they’re chuckling and leaning into each other. They won’t talk about it tomorrow.

When they make it back to the apartment the place is silent, and the shoes from Al’s guest have disappeared, so at least there’s that. Logan makes a bee line for where Charlotte sits waiting on the couch, and he presses his face into the space behind her ear and pets her slowly.

Wade makes his way into the kitchen and brings them both some cold leftover pizza from the fridge and they sit in relative silence until Red stands and they make up the bed. If they lay in the darkness pressed close to each other until they both fall asleep? Well, they don’t talk about that.

It takes them a few weeks of looking at apartments before Logan shifts his perspective. Why are they looking to rent someplace, Red is making good money and Logan’s pay is pretty decent. That morning, he’s waiting around a bit for Wade to get back.

The other man swoops in the door with his arms full of garbage, and he nearly trips getting past the lined up shoes when he sees Logan sitting soberly on the couch with the dogs, “Logie-bear? You need something?”

Logan nods, stiffly. He’s anxious to broach the subject of moving again, even though they already agreed to look at places, “You want to buy a house?”

Red stares dumbly at him before he drops the load of shit in his arms. A pair of sandals lands near Logan's feet, “Come again, Peaches?” Wade flops down on the couch next to Logan.

Logan, god help him, takes a deep breath and starts again.

“Think it would be better than an apartment.” He sucks his teeth for a moment, “Lotsa space. Yard for the dogs.”

Red pulls his mask off and squints at Logan, “And did you think I would not like the idea of this?”

Logan shrugs after a minute, swallowing hard. Wade grabs his shoulder and gives a squeeze before getting up to pick up all the shit he dropped, “I got you some slides so you’d stop stealing my fucking crocs.”

Logan picks out a few places on his stupid smart phone while he’s on break at work, and texts them over to Wade. Wade sends over stupid little hearts that burst on his screen when he opens his messages, and then sends a wall of disjointed texts about going to see some of them this weekend. Logan rolls his eyes and fucks off back to work. That umbrella tree in the back isn’t going to bring itself up front.

Steadily, the week lets out to the weekend. Liz gives him Friday off, so they can extend their search another day, and they set off after letting Al know where they’d be for the day. She is a little pissy, at first, but when they say they’re looking for a place with two bathrooms she changes her story.

The first house they look at is a fucking disaster, all dripping faucets and every surface is carpeted. Wade keeps making stupid comments about replacing it with shag rugs (get it, shag?) and Logan elbows him in the stomach after one too many.

The realtor seems nice enough, but Logan thinks she’s just a little too focused on things like if the two of them will need to worry about good schools in the area, or if they’ve planned a date. Logan doesn’t know what she thinks they’d go on a date for, seeing as Wade is in love with his ex, and Logan is just Logan.

Wade is insufferable, hooking his arm though Logan’s and dragging him around the place. It smells like a cat has been in the bedroom closet, and when Red looks at him he just shakes his head, ‘no’. They’re still looking on Sunday.

They go to the next place, which isn’t bad, but there is still only one bathroom. The yard isn’t fenced in, and Logan is sure this isn’t going to be their new home when they make their way into the kitchen and all the cabinets are a nasty green color - it reminds him of baby poop and he chokes out a laugh that he manages to pretend is a cough. The realtor, Amy, says it needs some ‘love’ but that the place has sturdy bones.

He clears his throat and speaks up after touring the bedrooms, “We really need that second bathroom.”

Amy smiles up at him and scribbles something on her paperwork before whisking them away to the next location. How hard could it actually be to find something that will work for two mutants and a geriatric blind woman?

The third house is marginally better, there’s a fenced in backyard, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms: It’s significantly cheaper than they had been expecting, and the kitchen doesn’t look like a diaper exploded and covered everything in a 50 mile radius.

“Well I for one, like this place. What’s the catch?” Wade, and Amy have been chattering back and forth, and Red says this and shoots Logan a meaningful look.

Amy’s bubbly personality doesn’t falter when she hands over a piece of paper. It’s a photocopy of a news article, “MURDERHOUSE FOR SALE BY BANK” - Wade snorts at the paper before handing it back to her.

Logan pulls Red by the shirt sleeve to the other side of the room, and Amy steps out onto the balcony (theres a fucking BALCONY) to give them some privacy.

“This it?” He says, sniffing a little.

“Well, Peanut, I can’t make that decision. We have to make it together.” Wade pokes his finger into Logan’s shoulder as he says it, which is distracting. Logan swats his hand away, “Besides, I think Al would give her left titty, as saggy as that may be, for that ensuite bathroom.”

Logan thinks about it for a minute before chiming in, “I like it.”

Red raises his eyebrows and smiles and then looks past Logan’s shoulder, “Got ‘im.” before going out to the balcony to grab Amy. As he came back in, Logan heard him saying some shit about his ‘elderly, blind mother.’

They bring Althea back after an hour break, and she falls in love with it. They put their bid down, a few thousand more than the house is going for, and they get it. They make short work of moving in, Althea getting the bedroom with the ensuite.

Wade gets a nice sized bed, one that takes over a large portion of his room. Logan, thinking economically, gets a full size - he and Charlotte don’t need much room between the two of them. Charlotte spends most nights sleeping in Logan’s arms or at his feet.

They pack up the shitty crack house apartment and then all of Wade's friends come and help move their shit over to their house, brought over with offerings of free beer and pizza.

They’ve been moving the last of the boxes and furniture all day, and Althea has gone on to bed. Wade and Logan wave Wade’s friends out the door, Peter, being the last one out the door - he takes the garbage from dinner out with him. The guy’s too fuckin nice to be around most of the time. Logan and Red are sitting on the couch, half drunk beers getting warm on the coffee table, and Logan is smoking a big fat cigar.

Logan glances over at the floor, both dogs curled up on their bed - ridiculously, Charlotte is pushed to the very edge of the dog bed, and Mary is splayed out on her back next to her. Charlotte sighs contentedly in her sleep.

They sit in near silence, it’s quiet enough that Logan hears the sizzle of his cigar when he takes a puff, and after a while there isn’t much left to smoke at all. He stubs out what’s left of it and stands, intent on grabbing the girls for one last hurrah before bed. The moment the tags on their collars jingle, both dogs shoot up like anything, Mary running little dancy-circles around where Charlotte is sitting patiently by the door while Logan untwists the leashes to get the girls situated. Wade stands, starts clearing up the remains of their beer.

When Logan comes back in from his foray into the night, Wade is wearing that stupid fucking moo moo, and comes over to pick up Mary. Tucked safely in his arms, Logan gives her head a scritch and the two of them stand, looking in at the living room. After a while, Logan’s eyes find the pocked cheeks of Wade’s face and he watches him for a beat.

“We did good, Red.” Logan’s voice is low and it draws Wade’s attention, but not enough to look away from the room. Logan sees Red’s lips form a small smile, and Wade is walking away to his bedroom.

“Night, Peanut.”

As Logan lay in the dark he shifted uncomfortably, realizing his mistake: he fucking hated sleeping alone. They last a week, barely ever seeing each other, Wade disappearing at night and coming home well into the day when Logan has already gone to work.

One weekend, Logan doesn't have work, and he's reclining in his bed and petting Charlotte. Wade doesn't knock, he just comes slamming through the door, jolting both the dog, and Logan on edge. He flops face first into the bed, knees curled up and face pressed into Logan's armpit. Without pause, Logan’s arm wraps around Red’s back and presses him closer, before he pulls back a bit to look down at the other man.

“S’a matter, bub?” Wade snakes his arm around Logan, nuzzling and tucking his face impossibly closer to Logan before he rolls slightly to let out a quiet sentence.

“Missed you.” They move Logan’s things into Wade’s room. They don’t talk about it.

He’s at work one day, reaching up for a dieffenbachia on a high shelf when Wade comes crashing through the door to the shop, skipping and humming some insane song that Logan recognizes from an anime that Wade likes. The door cracks open loudly and Logan knocks the plant down onto his own head.

“What ya doin, Peanut?” Logan brushes some dirt from his clothes and picks up the dumb cane, stuffing as much soil back into the pot as he can manage to scrape off the floor, “I brought you some lunch, babygirl.”

Turns out Wade brought a big, thick sandwich, split down the center so they can share it. They tuck away on some crates behind the counter of the shop, huddled close with the wrapper spread over their knees, which knock into each other as they talk. Well, Wade talks. Logan eats and listens, nodding when necessary.

Liz tracks in, finally, with the girls in tow and Logan shifts back a bit, but not before she shoots him a wink. He doesn’t know what she’s winking at, he’s just eating his lunch.

“You wanna bounce, hombre? We’re slow enough that you don’t need to stick around if you wanna take off.”Liz asks, and Logan nods, mouth full of food and more manners than Red who just keeps taking huge bites and spewing whatever garble comes through his brain at Logan. It’s comforting, listening to the scarred man talk, even if sometimes Logan gets lost in all those words. Used to was that the most people would say to him was to get out, and Logan’s still coming to terms with the fact that it’s different here. Still has to come to terms with the fact that maybe someone wants him around.

They finish up their meal and head out, walking the blocks to the house. Logan laughs at something Wade is saying, and they’re stopped at a ‘do not cross’ sign, with Red grinning as Logan bumps their shoulders together gently.

Back at the house, Wade takes up residence on the couch next to Althea, who is snoring loudly while Judge Judy plays on the television. After a quick shower, Logan flops down next to Wade, sandwiching him between a sleeping old woman, and a grumpy old man.

Just like that, Logan is waking up from a nap of his own, couch absent of any other roommate, but Logan can hear a shower running and smell the fruity body wash that Wade swears makes his scarred skin feel softer. The TV’s off and the dogs are both snuffling in their sleep where they lay on the floor. He realizes, then, why he woke up - his phone is buzzing and Laura is on the other end.

The moment he picks up she’s rapid fire spitting angry, in Spanish, and he can’t keep up with her for a moment. He lets her go on, stumbling over an attempt to calm her down enough to actually deduce what the matter is when Wade’s hovering over him. He puts a hand over the phone and mouths Laura’s name at Wade, who has likely figured out that it was her by the violent cussing that was coming loudly through the line.

Logan licks his lips to start again when Wade plucks the phone from his hand and rapid fire, shoots off a string of Spanish so fast that Logan blinks twice before he realizes what happened. They go back and forth for a bit, Laura audibly seeming to calm down, which helps Logan let out a sigh of relief. After another moment, Wade hangs up the phone and passes it back.

“Laura is coming to stay for a few days.” And Wade is fucking back off into the bathroom, leaving Logan to sit there, dumbstruck and a little in awe.

Logan answers the door for Laura, who doesn’t say anything but immediately butts her head into his chest, and after a second he wraps his arms around her and pats the back of her head the way his mother used to, a million and one fucking years ago, “Hey kid.”

His throat is dry and he leads her into the kitchen where Wade, miraculously has sourced fucking hot cocoa, and they sit around the table for a while while Logan tries to juggle coming to grips with the fact that Laura needs him, and Laura actually needing him.

“-And she said that they won’t be able to come out and look at it until fucking monday.” The worst scenario for Laura, the shower at her shitty apartment is fucked and spews either scalding water or nothing - if she cranks the cold at all it shuts off. It’s Thursday night, and honestly Logan can’t blame the kid for wanting a fucking shower. Except then it started affecting everything else, the toilet, the kitchen sink. All the water is suddenly fucking gone from her apartment, “I was wondering if I could crash on your couch until then.”

She’s looking at Logan with crystal clear eyes, and as soon as he starts to affirm, Wade cuts in - “We have a spare room, Pookie, no need for the couch.” Laura looks between the two of them, calculating for a moment before nodding.

They stay up late, Wade and Laura bickering back and forth in broken Spanglish while Logan observes and smokes and has fucking cocoa. And he feels so completely whole that the guilt of the feeling chases him into his sleep.

That nightmare is how Wade finds him, knees curled up into his chest on the couch in the dark, face illuminated by a cigarette from the pack Althea left on the table hours ago. Wade doesn’t turn the lights on when he comes through to leave for the night, and jumps a bit when he sees Logan sitting huddled on the couch.

“Hey Peanut,” He starts quietly, “I didn’t mean to wake you, I thought I was being quiet.”

“Wasn’t you, bub.” Logan’s voice is raw and Red stops and squints at him in the dark before edging closer.

“Y’all right? You seem,” Logan can see the gears in Wade’s head cranking, “Upset.”

“Had a nightmare. Don’t worry about it.” Logan stubs out the last of the cigarette and stands to pass Wade, “You going on a job?”

Wade, who for some reason, skirts around the subject of work every time Logan brings it up nods the affirmative, “I’m straight grindmaxing, Logie bear.”

Whatever the fuck that means, Logan brushes his shoulder with Wades on his way past, and Wade grabs his wrist in the darkness, so Logan turns to look at him.

“It’s gonna be okay, Logan.” The seriousness in Red’s voice dries out Logan’s throat completely and he takes a beat of standing in the darkness with the other man before he pulls away and heads back towards the bedroom.

“Be safe, Bub.” He hears Wade laughing as he closes the bedroom door.

The next morning it’s Laura who wakes him, crashing and banging in the kitchen as she fumbles her way into the cabinet with the pots and pans. He makes his way out there and she’s got flour all over the counter top, and Mary is slurping happily at her feet where she has dropped all but three from their dozen eggs. Laura looks miserably at him for a moment before she presses some hair out of her face, streaking flour over her forehead and eyebrow.

“Was goin on?” She gestures at the mess and shrugs before she answers him.

“I was trying to make breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”

“Have you ever done that before?”

“No.” She sulks, just like he does.

He crosses the room and takes the frying pan from her hands and grabs a few things, a mixing bowl, some sugar, the normal fixings. Cracking an egg into the bowl he holds out his hand for her to give him another, and she does.

Wade slumps into the kitchen a little later, suited up and looking absolutely disgusting. He’s covered from head to toe in grime, and he quietly stows away a dozen fresh eggs in the fridge, along with some frilly creamer that Laura likes, and a big tub of ice cream before he sulks off into the bathroom to remove the scum of the day(night? whatever.) He spends a god awful amount of time in there, and Logan’s gotta go. It should be fine, right?

Logan knocks gently on the bathroom door, not hearing the shower running.

“Ocupado, quien es?” Logan rolls his eyes and cracks the door and steam billows out from the bathroom.

“Gotta piss.” At the affirmative noise Logan steps into the bathroom that’s fucking shrouded in steam, crinkling his nose at the god awful perfumey scent of whatever the fuck Red has put into the bath. It’s some synthetic floral and it clings in his nose as he silently relieves himself. Wade is laying back in what must be an absolutely fucking boiling bathtub brimming with colorful bubbles. He has the decency to look a little embarrassed as Logan finishes up and washes his hands.

“Thanks, Red.” Getting the fuck out of proximity to a naked Wade Wilson is Logan’s number one goal, even if the man is acting more sedate than usual.

When he gets back to the kitchen Laura is making yet another mess, filling the sink with bubbles of her own as she attempts to scrub the dishes from their meal. Logan hands her a dish towel and scoots her to one side, rinsing the majority of the dishes and stowing them in the under-cabinet dishwasher. The pan they fried the pancakes in gets a nice rinse and is set aside for later.

“So you wanna tell me why we moved your stuff into the room I’m sleeping in and now it’s got nothing in it except a mattress?” He lets her question hang in the air between them while he drains the sink and rinses the bubbles that she slopped all over the counter down.

“S’easier to sleep with someone than it is alone.” His excuse is weak and he knows it, hoping she won’t pry further than that. He spins and leans back against the sink and crosses his arms.

“Oh yeah, and that hundred something pound dog isn’t enough of a someone to sleep with?” He narrows his eyes at her, like he could see through her skull and figure out exactly what the fuck it is she’s trying to get at.

She screws her face up for a minute, and he thinks maybe she will back down, “So are you sleeping with that old woman or are you sleeping with Wade?”

“Hey, watch how you talk about your elders, kid -” She’s mocking him, making a face as she starts miming what he’s saying back to him, “Laura, seriously. Let it go.”

“The only person you’re fooling is yourself if you think this is the end of this conversation, bub.” She spits the endearment at him and flounces off to the living room as he wipes over his face with his hand. Jesus christ, what the fuck has he gotten into.

That night is much of the same, Wade makes some casserole for dinner and Laura acts like a little shit across the table from Logan all night. She’s gesturing with her fork at Wade, who is rambling through some shitty news article about Spider Man from his phone. Logan thinks she mouths something like ‘ask him’ but Logan isn’t sure what she wants him to ask, so he settles his eyes on his food and starts shoveling it into his face.

After a while he finishes, and that’s when he realizes that Wade has asked him a question, and the two are staring at him - Red, patiently… Laura, smugly. Little shit.

“What’s that?” He stands to clear his plate as if he wasn’t just completely zoned out, grabbing up Laura’s on his way. Wade passes his over too, and for a minute Logan is afraid that maybe he didn’t ask a question.

“I asked if you liked it, peanut. I mean seriously, how many times in one fic are you gonna miss what I say?” He says the last bit while staring over Laura’s head, and Logan is pretty sure that bit isn’t meant for him.

“S’good.” Logan isn’t totally sure what the casserole was but there were noodles and some peas, and it was cheesy as anything. A win in his book.

He starts rinsing the plates at the sink but doesn’t miss the look Laura and Wade share, before Wade shrugs. Stacking the plates into the dishwasher he turns back around to watch them.

He’s certain that somehow, Laura and Wade are fucking telepathically communicating, and as the seconds that feel like years tick by, Logan can feel a vein in his forehead throbbing. He presses his thumb to it, trying to remain calm and Wade stands with his hands on his hips.

“Ice cream?” The man is fucking infuriating, but they all end up with a bowl, smooshed together on the couch in the living room while Golden Girls plays quietly. Wade think’s it’s integral to a youth’s education to experience Bea Arthur, and so they watch in near silence - Wade quietly quoting the show now and again.

That night Red rolls over into Logan's chest and stays put the entire night, and Logan thinks that maybe life in this universe could be something good, after all.

In the morning they roll out of bed and end up sharing the bathroom mirror while they brush their teeth. Laura is still sleeping, and Wade takes the dogs out to the back yard to go potty so Logan starts breakfast, eggs and bacon and toast from the fucked up toaster that they brought with them - and coffee from the pot that is still a raging bitch every time Logan tries to use it.

He’s still fucking with it when Wade comes in, bacon slightly too crispy on one side because he was too busy with that stupid pot to flip it, and Wade hums quietly.

They finish up breakfast together, waiting for Laura and he thinks maybe Wade wants to ask him something, but Wade must not have gotten the fucking memo because he’s weirdly quiet today.

He turns toward the other man, intent on asking him to speak the fuck up and get it over with, when Laura comes in all sleepy eyed and yawning, and it knocks the agitated wind right out of Logan’s sails. He plates the last of the bacon and brings it over to the table.

“Morning, kid.” Laura’s elbow is on the table and she’s holding her head up right with her fist. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to be so young, because it’s been a thousand fucking years since he ever was her age. He uses one meaty hand and ruffles the hair on her head, which she ducks away from with a groan.

She fucks off for the day, with the intent to come back for dinner, so it’s just Wade and Logan for the afternoon. Althea has been in and out with some beau recently, and Logan isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not, but it does mean that he and Red are spending the bits of time they are at home together.

Wade is sitting on one end of the couch and keeps poking Logan with his fucking toes and it’s annoying as hell. Logan is scrolling news articles on his phone and trying to read, and that’s when Logan realizes that he might need fucking reading glasses. He stands and slaps Wade’s thigh, “Y’comin?”

Wade looks up with interest, but doesn’t say anything as he stands. They make their way a few blocks over, to the same shitty pharmacy that Wade took Logan when he first got here. He’s been back a few times, but usually it’s to pick up soap or Althea’s prescriptions.

He ends up in a back corner of the pharmacy, right next to the magazine rack, where a little rotating fucking thing is covered in weirdly colored and styled reading glasses. He isn’t sure what script lenses he needs so he spends a while squinting down at his phone before he pulls the glasses off and tries the next ones. Each time he hold a pair of lenses up to his face Wade lets out a stupid fucking wolf whistle.

Finally, blissfully, he finds a simple metal pair of frames that actually fucking lets him see the stupid fucking tiny letters on his cellphone, and they head to the checkout. While they are in line, a lady with a baby sidles up behind them and he watches quietly as Wade coos and coddles the kid, blowing soft raspberries and smiling widely at the baby.

The mother, who looks exhausted, gives him a smile before she says, “Do you two have kids?”

“Oh I don’t, but he’s got one from a previous marriage. She’s a real firecracker but you know how teenagers can be.”

“She's twenty two, dumb fuck.” Wade gasps immediately, gesturing to the infant who looks too young to even comprehend that Logan swore.

“Little ears, dickhead.” He says ‘dickhead’ almost imperceptibly quiet, as though he fully believes that it would affect the baby. Logan lets the mother pass him in line, she’s got a little container of formula in her hands and that’s it.

“It’s alright, he’s really too little. You boys should give it a go, you seem like you’d be great parents. It’s nice to see people in love out here.”

Logan and Wade absolutely do not avoid each other's eyes as they check out, the glasses nearly forgotten, until the clerk at the counter calls them up impatiently.

When they get back home, Althea is sitting back on the couch, her beau on the other end, some guy named Frank or Fred. Logan nods at him as he passes by and heads for the bedroom, as Wade stops to chat with them.

Wade, thankfully, does not make a comment about him using the new glasses as he comes into the bedroom and strips out of his shirt, sweaty from the walk back home, and flops face down onto the bed. Logan doesn’t say anything as Wade burrows his face close to Logan’s hip, but rests the hand he’s not using to scroll with on the back of Wade’s neck and presses in with his fingers, gently. Wade groans, and rolls into it, before pushing up on his elbows for a moment to look at Logan.

“D’you do that to all the girls, or am I special?” Logan, surprisingly, doesn’t mind it much more when Wade flirts with him. Wade would flirt with a garbage bag if it were sentient. It doesn’t mean anything, so Logan won’t rise to the heckle.

Laura comes back a little earlier than they expect, and they end up going out for dinner at a restaurant a few blocks over, close to the old apartment, and Laura eats like someone is going to take the food away from her the whole time. Logan think’s it’s because she likes it, but maybe she’s just fucking territorial.

Wade is picking at her, grilling her about where she’s thinking about going to school and if she will stay at her apartment, “So you really wanna keep living at that shithole? When you know damn well that you could just as easily commute to any school in the area from the house?”

“It’s not that simple, dad tell him-” Logan knows she didn’t mean the slip and he brushes over it like it didn’t come out.

“He’s right. Could stay with us.” Wade’s jaw drops a bit, and then slams shut before looking between the two of them.

She huffs a little, and crosses her arms in a mirror of Logan, and then rolls her eyes. He’s sure she’s actually given it some thought when he hears her let out a little swear.

And Wade’s off on some random bullshit about the neighborhood and the schools in the area and Logan’s barely listening as he kicks gently at his kid under the table, only for her to kick him back as hard as she dared without interrupting the other man.

They settle it that weekend, Laura and Logan pulling up in a busted truck he picked up for cheap to help move her bare bones apartment to the house. Unfortunately the leasing people didn’t like that Laura was fixing to break hers, until Logan showed up all menacing glares from behind her, asking what could possibly be taking so long.

It takes two trips, because Laura has a fuckload of clothes - Logan’s pretty sure that most of them don’t even fit her but he thinks maybe she’s just trying to hold onto something in this world before it gets ripped away. He can’t blame her there. They leave the shitty ass twin size mattress that she has on the floor, and Logan wonders if it’s a comfort to her or just a necessity.

They work in near silence, Laura speaking most of the words between them and understanding his terse nods and head-shakes. They stop between trips to the house and grab a quick lunch, some fuckin sandwich things that pretty much fall apart with the amount of meats and shit loaded on them. It’s delicious, and Logan has to remember where they got them so he can bring one to Wade sometime.

Laura’s got her mouth full, with a slice of tomato slipping through her teeth as she gnashes and says, “So are you fucking each other?”

It takes Logan by surprise and he nearly inhales an entire bite of unchewed sandwich, choking and sputtering - setting his sandwich down so that he can put his face in his hands for a moment before he answers, “Why would you say that.” It’s not quite a question, breathing slightly de-centered as he looks over at her.

She shrugs around another bite and god, she truly eats like she was raised in a lab, “I just want you to know that it doesn’t bother me. Your relationship with him.”

“There is no relationship, we just-” He cuts himself off, lacking the words to even describe what is going on between the two of them. He doesn’t even know where to start on it, they’re so integral to each other but they haven’t talked about anything and Logan isn’t even sure he knows how to name all the stupid fucking feelings; it’s just a mess. Wade literally shared a bed with a blind old woman for a time, so it’s not as if it means anything to him, even if it did to Logan. Which it doesn’t, especially if anyone is asking. He thinks for a second that he’s spiraling, staring at his shitheel of a kid who is obviously only doing this to him to torment him before he stands, throws the rest of his sandwich away and gets back to work, effectively cutting off whatever threads of a ‘conversation’ this was before he can go any deeper into his own head.

He sees her face as he walks away, smug as shit. He thinks she might be taking after Wade. He’s not sure if that’s a bad thing.

Wade’s got some fucking thing running and the noise is driving Logan crazy. It’s summer and its hotter than fuck and they just got back to the house with all of Lauras stuff and fuck if it isn’t almost as hot inside as it is outside. Althea might not be the oldest of the roommates but she’s the physically oldest and she thinks the air con should be kept at a frosty 75 degrees. Logan disagrees, he’s much more comfortable with a polar vortex of a temperature. Wade also disagrees, but the fucker has a box fan with one missing wing, and that’s the god awful noise Logan hears, he’s sure of it. He gets Lauras stuff into the living room so she can sort it all out and take it to her room, and goes to the bedroom where the noise is coming from/

“Can you shut that shit off, it’s miserable-” Logan stops dead in his tracks, Wade is face down on the bed in the smallest pair of red panties Logan has ever seen. While his brain reboots, he chews on the word he was going to say next, realizing a bit too late that Wade is taking a fucking nap like that: Half dressed, ass out, and in direct view of the bedroom door. Logan’s brain starts back up and he crosses the room, flings a sheet over Red’s ass and bodily ejects himself out the door, mouth bone dry and sweat beading at his temples.

Laura’s sitting in the living room, kicking at a bag of clothes with her foot and watches him cross to the kitchen where he grabs a bottle of beer and comes back to the couch. He nudges the bag she’s kicking with a toe and tips the bottle towards her. “Want one?”

At her affirmative, he passes the bottle in his hands to her and makes the trek back to the kitchen for one of his own. They don’t talk as he hoists the bag in one hand, pressing the cold bottle of beer to his temple with the other and loads the shit she brought into her room.

She’s got this big, furry, fuckass beanbag. It’s neon green, and he wonders if that’s the kind of thing she likes before he slumps down onto it, nearly squashing it under his weight as she kicks a bag into the room behind him, with one in her arms. They sit together in relative silence (besides that awful noise from the fan in the bedroom, screeching. Logan thinks Wade could sleep through anything at all if he sleeps through that din, but in actuality he knows for a fact that Wade is a light sleeper. Insufferable man.) taking clothes out of bags and figuring out if they need to be donated or not. Logan’s sure that she’s not the most comfortable at that moment, but he thinks that he’s even more uncomfortable. Wade has always been pretty good about not being undressed in shared spaces, even if he is a flirt he’s still a good roommate. He can’t blink the image of Red’s shapely ass from the backs of his eyelids, and the thought is distracting as fuck. He’s sure she knows, paranoia creeping in just enough to keep him sweating. It’s not a crime to have fucking eyeballs, and Logan could do a lot worse than just look.

It takes them a while, the door still open and Logan’s slipped off the bean bag to sit criss crossed on the floor - he was smothering the life out of that ugly thing, and he didn’t want to ruin the little bit of furniture that she brought with her.

His mistake is looking up at just the moment Wade crosses the hallway to make his way into the bathroom. He’s still shirtless, but his shorts are slung low on his hips and there is a sliver of bright red peeking out of the top. Logan swears god is punishing him at that moment, every single thing he’s ever done wrong is coming for his throat and he takes a stuttering breath and throws a too-small shirt in the donate pile while he stone-face looks at Laura.

At dinner it’s quieter than usual, and they’re eating big ass salads from some pop up down the block. Laura picks at it as if she’s never seen a salad as a meal before, even though they absolutely crammed as much grilled chicken into the take out containers as they possibly could. Wade wanted something light for dinner since it was so hot.

“D’you think she’d notice if we cranked the AC just a little? Like she can’t even see the thermostat, how would she tell?” Wade’s grumbling through a mouthful of arugula and carrots, and Logan watches a julienned slice of carrot cling to his bottom lip before Red licks it off, Logan slamming his eyes back to his own dinner. He shrugs and keeps chewing and breathing. He thinks that if he can just get through this meal that he can fuck off and go live in the woods and never speak to anyone ever again and be just fine.

Laura speaks up and says something in rapid fire Spanish, too fast for Logan to catch any of. He’s downloaded some shitty app with a vaguely threatening bird that will supposedly help him learn Spanish, but she just speaks so fast that almost nothing but the cuss words she spits out spitefully are anything he can understand.

Whatever the fuck she says has Wade perking up, all dumb expression on his face like she’s the brightest part of his day and Logan thinks maybe he understands that a little bit. He likes having her around, a little more silence and brooding looks to balance out the noise that comes with Wade Wilson.

Logan gets ready for bed while Laura and Wade watch some fuckshit on the tv, Althea passed out in her chair next to them. Logan thinks that he hates all the broken shit that Wade dragged from the old apartment, the shitty coffee pot, the busted ass box fan. Logan knows that Wade hates throwing anything out, picking up most of the shit he gathers through the day from someone else's trash. Logan has literally had to pry Wade away from a busted minifridge before, the door swinging wildly as Wade awkwardly tried to carry it the six blocks home. It’s not that Logan doesn’t want Wade to have things, it’s that Logan wants Wade to have nice things. He’s thinking about the fuckass toaster that always burns the toast on one side when Wade slides through the bedroom door, casual as anything and starts getting ready for bed.

Except those fucking panties are peaking out of his shorts, and Logan has to even out his breathing. He’s sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone with a sheet covering his legs and the pillow rucked up behind him so that he’s not quite curled over the phone like a shit impersonation of a shrimp, casting quick glances up at Wade’s ass every now and then, when the other man is turned and facing the chest of drawers. Wade reaches up and hauls the sweaty shirt off his back and he turns - almost catching Logan staring at the musculature, but Logan is slick enough not to get caught. You don’t live 200 years and not develop the speed to eyeball someone.

Wade is still fucking off across the room, so Logan slides down the bed, tucks his phone under his pillow, punches it once and is turning over. When Wade eventually slides into the bed and clicks off the lamp on his side of the bed he immediately runs one of his feet over Logan’s bare calf, “You still awake, peanut?”

It's too hot to be touching any part of another person's skin, but Logan stays still and breaths slowly through his nose. Wade, the fucker, kicks the other foot back and hooks it around Logans ankle so that their feet are entwined, but they dont touch anywhere else - normally Wade would be tucked into Logan’s shoulder or playing the role of big spoon, but its so fucking hot - Logan sits up and whips his phone out again, typing furiously for a moment in the darkness.

Wade is looking over his shoulder a little surprised, but if he has something to say he’s smart enough to keep it to his fucking self for once. Logan is ordering a fucking window unit, small thing that will keep their room cool enough that they can breath while they sleep and not have to worry about making a popsicle out of their geriatric roommate.

Logan jolts awake the next morning, head crammed into Wade’s chest - drooling a bit on his pec, with Wade’s arm slung over him. All Logan can think is that he has to get away from the insane heat smothering him and then he realizes that it’s just Wade. Taking a deep breath he slides out from under the other mans arm, hitching the sheet up over Red as he extracts himself from the bed.

He makes his way to the kitchen in the dim light and lights a cigarette, too early in the morning to bother with something as big as a cigar. Logan finds Laura sitting at the kitchen table, slumped a little, with one knee tucked up to her chest and he sits down across from her. They sit, mismatched chairs Wade probably found in a dumpster in silence for a while, Logan chain smoking and Laura fiddling idly with the hem of her too big tank top.

“Y’all right, kid?” She jerks her eyes up to him and screws up her face a bit, worrying her lip with a too-sharp tooth.

“Nightmare.” She shrugs, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for someone her age to be plagued by, sleep fleeting and distant because she’s tormented by a past that he can’t fathom at her age.

He sighs a bit, taking a big puff of smoke in on the inhale and shooting it fast downwards as he thinks about what next he should say, chewing up words before they can pass his lips and spitting out white clouds of smoke.

“I -” He starts, and Wade trips into the room, bare chested and dragging his ass behind him, cutting off what Logan was trying to say as he skitters towards the coffee pot.

Laura, the shit, raises her eyebrows at him and blinks slowly, clearly catching him in the act of staring at the other man passing by.

He furrows his brow, trying to communicate to her that it doesn’t have to mean anything, to Wade himself it doesn't even mean anything so why should it matter to her.

She gives him the most deadpan look, and he would wonder where she got it from but she’s a little wretched mirror of him, and she rolls her eyes expertly before jabbing her finger to point at Logan, and then once at Wade’s back. He’s behind Logan, fucking with that bitch of a coffee pot and if Logan didn’t think that it would hurt Wade’s feelings he would order a new one of every broken piece of shit in this house over night and have them replaced by the next day. It’s unrealistic, he doesn’t have that kind of money and he thinks that Wade must not either because the fucker is always bringing some fuckshit home and trying to rig it up into working order - without knowing how the thing worked in the first place and usually making some kind of fucking mess.

Logan can feel the vein in his forehead start to throb and it’s too early for this when Laura opens her little shit mouth and says, “Good morning, Wade.”

Wade whips his head around like he didn’t quite realize he was in the room with anyone else and squints at them, sniffing at Logan smoking a fifth cigarette before noon even hit. “Morning, Peaches, do you have any plans today?”

Logan pinches the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb, lit cigarette dangling before Wade plucks it from his hand and starts smoking it himself. Bastard.

Laura shakes her head, muttering something in Spanish and giving a big, full body shrug that today’s kids all seem to know how to do.

“Why don’t you take your old man here to that art exhibit that opened up last weekend? Tickets are pretty cheap and you can probably get a senior citizens discount for grumpy.” Logan huffs at that but there’s no real heat behind it, ducking his head a bit to hide the fraction of a smile that threatens to slap him on the face, and Wade is passing the cigarette back to finally, blessedly, dole out some fucking coffee. Wade is pressed close to Logan's hip, pouring into the cup that he’s holding out to Red, and Logan hears Laura scoff. He’s never going to hear the fucking end of this.

“Cant, got plans today.” It’s Wade’s turn to scoff, Logan rarely has plans outside of walking the dogs every waking moment, working out, or going to work. Logan is waiting impatiently for the delivery of the air conditioner which he plans to install immediately in their bedroom window and then lay naked in the bed for the rest of the day. Those plans are valid and absolutely above criticism.

Wade finally fucks off to the other side of the table after pouring coffee into Laura’s slightly cracked hello-kitty mug, still standing stupid close to Logan. Logan drifts off, sipping coffee and smoking quietly around the chatter of his not-quite-daughter, daughter, and his (whatever the fuck Wade was).

The morning passes quietly into the afternoon and finally, finally, the window unit is delivered and Logan sets about getting it set up. Wade hovers curiously, but tries to act like he isn’t trying to see all of Logan’s deepest thoughts. When Logan gets the thing stuffed into the bedroom window and all screwed into place (because really, he isn’t just setting it on the window and hoping for the fucking best, he’s pulling a power drill out and really screwing this bitch into the windowsill.) Wade finally speaks up about it, eyes full of wonder.

“Are you trying to get pregnant, peanut?” The noise Logan makes is absolutely one of disgust, actively ignoring the other man while he clicks the unit down as far it can go on cool and stripping down to his boxers to lie face down on his side of the bed.

Wade just stands in front of it, letting the chilly air blow through his metaphorical hair. Logan turns his head towards the other man, staring through slitted eyes and dark eyelashes at the pock-marked back, blinking almost imperceptibly.

That night the room is marginally cooler, so cold that Red has pulled Logan’s arm over top of him - and resorted to wearing actual pajamas to bed. Logan mourns the loss of the panties, either from Wade changing out of them or simply being too covered by his stupid booboo kitty pajamas or whatever her name is.

Logan, curled around Wade on the bed in the darkness, until his phone pings - drawing Wade from his sleep. Logan, as usual, pretends to be sleeping so that he can watch Wade get ready to go out in the dark. This time, however, Wade doesn’t put on that weird fucking gimp suit. He puts on some casual clothes, and without a look back to the door, slips out into the house. Logan think’s that’s a bit odd, but doesn’t really give it too much thought as he turns over and gets some sleep.

Wade returns before the sun is up, which rouses Logan from his sleep - any time Wade gets in or out of the bed it wakes Logan, but he is sound enough at keeping his eyes closed and his breathing even that if Wade notices it, he doesn’t bring it up.

It happens again, a week later. Logan is sure that Wade isn’t going to some random mission dressed like a teenager with a caffeine addiction, and it’s starting to grate on him. He wonders, idly, during the day at work about what could be pulling Wade away on those nights. It’s distracting enough to think about Wade going out in secret for missions, and it’s worse that Logan doesn’t know where he goes when he’s not doing them. He feels a little like a jealous boyfriend, except they aren’t, regardless of what Laura or Althea implies. Logan wonders if Wade knows how incredibly centric the merc is in Logan's pathetic life. Wake up, go to work, come home, see Wade, go to sleep, and repeat. It’s not as though Wade meant to make himself Logan’s everything when he picked Logan up by the scruff of the neck in that shitty bar, so drunk he could barely stand. Logan has been doing better, mostly because it’s far easier to remember what Wade’s smile looks like when he’s sober.

So Logan seethes, thinking of all the places that Wade could be getting into trouble. He wonders one morning, while he walks Charlotte and Mary around the block, if Wade is seeing Vanessa again, and the thought makes his blood run cold. He doesn’t mean to be possessive and jealous, but he’s never been as emotionally intelligent as he could be.

One night, Wade gets up and gets dressed and Logan watches him through his eyelashes, and Wade’s got those fucking panties on again, pulled high on his hips. Logan squints in the darkness, trying to make out exactly what shirt Wade is putting on.

It doesn’t matter, Logan knows that it doesn’t fucking matter. He panics a bit, watching Wade close the door behind him, and waits a beat before he slips out of the bed himself and throws on a pair of jeans. It isn’t hard, following Wade. The man doesn’t pay attention to shit, let alone someone following him. For a mercenary the man has no sense of self preservation.

Logan follows him six blocks east, and three streets over, keeping Red in his sight without ever letting the other man see him. Wade dips down into a basement level entrance to a building that Logan realizes is a fucking bar of some kind, letting Wade get in and ahead of him a substantial distance before paying the cover fee and going in too. There’s so much fucking glitter, bass booming, and too-sweaty bodies everywhere, and Logan winces at the overstimulation of even stepping into this place. The place is partly dim, with bright flashing lights. There’s some kind of stage at the far side of the room, and a long bar running along the back wall. He watches Wade bob over to the bar and start a conversation with a bartender who looks an awful lot like he (or she?) knows Wade. Logan stalks over to the opposite side of the room, watching the back of Wade’s bald head shine like anything in the flashing lights of the too crowded room.

Almost immediately, Logan has some skinny nothing of a kid pressing up against him and smiling at him, “Hey, it’s good to see you! It’s been a while.”

Logan raises an eyebrow at the kid, knowing damn well that this pickup line has never in the history of bad pick up lines, worked on any single person ever. At all. “Think you’re confused, bub.”

Logan’s eyes never leave the back of Wade's head, as he takes a step off to the side to brush off the kid, who seemingly will not take a hint. “Oh my bad, you look like someone I know pretty well! I’m Alex, what’s your name?”

Logan suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at this kid, “I’m not interested, so fuck off, kid.”

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, and then furrow, all blonde and fearless as he takes a step closer, “Come on man, I’ll buy you a drink and we can find some place to chat - “ Logan does not suppress the urge this time and rolls his eyes, shoving past the kid to move away. The music, if you could call it that, is too loud and he doesn’t catch whatever the little shit yells after him as he makes his way over to the side of the bar that Wade isn’t occupying and orders a beer. The bartender on his end is fast enough, dipping away and coming back with some bottle of not-Logan’s-favorite, but it’s something to do and he passes over the cash for the drink with a nod.

Wade is seemingly popular, chatting up a few people here and there, and Logan wonders why the fuck the guy thought he needed to sneak out to go to a bar, before realizing that he’s been a fucking creep. He decides then and there to finish his beer, and leave without bothering Wade, obviously the guy wanted some fucking privacy and Logan has been a total weirdo, when he realizes that Wade is following that shithead kid into what looks like a dingy bathoom.

Logan seethes, draining his beer and standing, follows at a glacial pace in the direction. It’s still loud in the bathroom- except he can hear Wade running his fucking mouth now. Logan isn’t stupid, and when he sees a stall with two pairs of feet he bangs on the door, all but denting the shitty metal inwards with a single rap of two knuckles, and knocking open the shitty locking mechanism so that the door swings open on Wade and the shithead that wouldn’t leave Logan alone in the first place. The kid has his hand down the front of Wade’s pants, chest to back, and both their heads whip around when the door swings open and Logan steps through it.

He wants to say that he’s a reasonable man, but unfortunately, what he actually does is rip the kid off Wade with a hand on the back of his neck, throwing Andrew or whatever the fuck his name was in the direction of the door and stepping into the stall with Wade to close the door behind him. Wade whirls around, grabbing at the crotch of his pants to zip up and cover himself.

“What the fuck?” The shithead takes the hint, with just a little more grumbling out the door, hands raised in defeat, “I didn’t know he had a fucking boyfriend.”

“Logan what the fuck?” For once, Wade actually seems speechless as Logan crowds into his space, eyes all dangerous as he gives Wade a once over. He steps even closer, and Wade takes a half step back before he hits the wall of the stall, face red with embarrassment or anger. Logan takes the opportunity of closeness to lean in and inhale against Wade’s neck before Wade is shoving at him with two fingers, jabbing him back slightly, “No, fucker, you don’t get to come in here and interrupt me like that and then not fucking say anything about it. So speak the fuck up, peanut, before I go find that guy and get what I came here for.”

Logan squints at him, “And what is that... What exactly did you come here for, Red?”

Wade tilts his head to the side, looking at Logan like he’s grown two heads, “I’m trying to get laid - if that’s alright by you, I didn’t think I needed explicit permission to do that, all things considered. I didn’t think it would bother you - ”

Logan cuts him off with a hand over his mouth, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head down. “It does. Bother me.”

Wade raises his eyebrows at Logan, words spilling out of his lips and hitting the wall that is Logan’s hand and turning imperceptible.

“Just. You don’t have to go out. If you’re interested.” Logan grits his teeth and forces the words out, hoping that Wade will understand. The merc licks a wet line across the inside of Logan’s hand and he winces and pulls his hand away to wipe it on Wade’s shirt.

“Now that that’s out of the way, literally, are you fucking kidding? Interested? Peanut I’ve been dropping hints about getting my hands on you from literally the moment I met you. I just assumed you weren’t into it and moved on.” Wade’s mouth is running a mile a minute, and Logan winces.

“You flirt with Althea.”

“Althea isn’t sex on legs, Logan, but I still would because I care for the elderly.” Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step back, but Wade takes the opportunity to step up into his space, “Did you fucking smell me?”

Logan leans back into Wade’s space - Wade who is crowding into Logan’s space, and presses his face close to the other man's ear to inhale the scent of him again, “That a problem?”

And suddenly Wade is pulling Logan’s hands over to his own waist, stepping almost impossibly closer and pressing his lips to Logan’s - not at all what Logan was actually expecting in the moments he tracked Red into this nasty bathroom. He makes up his mind and pulls away, determinedly shoving Wade back a space before dropping to his knees on the grimy floor of the dingy bathroom and he thinks for a space that he’s gonna have to burn these jeans, totally destroyed by whatever funk now lives in the fabric of the knees but there’s something much more important at hand and he’s gotta get his mouth on Wade in whatever capacity he can. He stares hungrily up at Wade while gesturing to the other man’s trousers and licks his lips which seems to have restarted Wade’s brain.

The fly is still undone, along with the zip and Logan takes a beat to appreciate those stupid fucking lace panties, before Wade is shoving his pants down and kicking out his legs, and that’s when Logan actually sees what Wade is packing, all nestled in softly in that lace like a gift from God himself for Logan. His mouth waters and he shreds the panties blocking his path without a thought, tears them right off Wade’s pussy and stuffs them into his own back pocket because this might be the only fucking chance Logan gets at this and he sure as hell wants to actually remember it - hopefully until the life drains out of him in the distant future.

He surges forward, mouth open and shoves an elbow between Wade’s knees to make room for his head; Wade knocks off balance and ends up pressing his back fully against the metal of the stall, a shitty industrial toilet paper holder digging into his ass while Logan uses one hand to spread the pink lips in front of him and spit messily onto the thick little stub of a cock that Wade is rocking, before swallowing it down as far as it will go- and then Wade’s got his hands in Logan’s hair and he’s fucking pulling, nasty.

Wade’s brain seems to come back online slower than Logan has ever seen him take to regenerate - he can tell because he’s staring up at Wade, who is just open mouthed gaping down at him like he can’t believe what the fuck is happening, little gasps coming out in puffs of breath while he holds on for the ride of his life.

Logan dips down even further, pushing Wade’s left leg up and over his shoulder so that he can cant the other mans hips up and delve his tongue deep into the center of him - finally jolting a strangled cry out of Wades mouth, and thank fuck for that because Logan was afraid for a moment that maybe he broke him. His nose is pressed up against Wade’s little throbbing dick and he’s got his tongue so far inside of Wade that he feels like he’s digging for gold, before he stuffs a finger in alongside his tongue and slides his nose up and over so that his lips seal against that cock. He closes his eyes and starts jerking his finger up and in towards himself while he sucks at Wade, and then he’s slipping a second finger into the wet, tight, heat of him.

It lasts forever and not long enough, seconds ticking by into minutes as Logan works his tongue and fingers in

tandem, steadily pumping his hand into the slick tunnel of Wade's pussy.

Wade makes an unusual (or is it? He can’t wait to see…) squeal, and raps his knuckles once against Logan’s skull before he gushes; absolutely gushes, and bows his back at an angle that would have meant he would be on the floor if Logan’s arm wasn’t wrapped up and around his left thigh, holding him tight up against Logan’s mouth. Logan keeps going until he hears Wade sobbing, and then gently eases the leg down and his mouth away, but not before pressing a tiny kiss to that beautiful little dick. He presses another into the pocked skin of Wade's thigh.

Wade is panting, and curls in over himself while he sets his feet to the floor, hands on Logan’s shoulders. Logan holds him at the waist, tipping forward and using one hand to tuck up Wade’s trousers. Logan can feel Wade's legs quaking.

Logan's hair is fucked, and his face is worse, beard slick-dripping down into his tshirt. He looks up from the floor, holding onto Wade's hips as he stands, trying to gauge what's going through the other man's head. He distantly recognizes that he’s rock hard, dick pressing roughly at the zip of his jeans, before he starts to hike himself up off the floor, maintaining contact with Wade as much as possible.

Wade’s hands slide down his chest and gets an obscene handful of Logan’s ‘tits’ before leaning back in for a kiss and nearly breaking Logan’s nose with his own. They stand wrapped around each other for just a beat, before they break apart.

“Home?” Logan is wiping the schmutz from his face with the sleeve of his shoulder, still not straying far from Wade, as the other man adjusts himself in his pants, Wade just nods and straightens himself out even more. There isn’t much in the way of being able to compose yourself after a romp in the bathroom of a gay club, and Logan looks every bit as fucked as he feels. His hair is sticking up, and the knees of his jeans are soiled with dirty liquid from the floor. His face is red, because existence is fucking brutal and embarrassing and the fact that he has to go out in front of other people looking like this might actually be the thing that ends his existence, but Wade takes his hand and strides out of the bathroom through the club confidently and for what its worth Logan gets some sting of winners pride. He passes the shitheel that was all over Wade earlier, fingers interlocked with the other man, clearly moving to get the fuck out of the bar, and he raises a single eyebrow at the younger man - who rolls his eyes and turns away.

They walked here, and Logan thinks distantly, that maybe the titanium fucking rod in his pants will settle the fuck down when they step out of the sweaty club and into the fresh air of the night, but it doesn’t seem like it has any intention of calming the fuck down and neither does the racing of his heart. Wade walks in front of him in silence, and Logan is absolutely terrified that he fucked up whatever little semblance of peace he might have had, quickly calculating how many more days until payday and if he can get a hotel room with the money in his wallet - panic induced stupor churning angrily in his head. But Wade’s hand is steady and he seems content when he looks back at Logan with a little smile, and so Logan takes the first of a few steadying breaths before he continues on to follow Wade home into the night.

They manage to make it all the way to the porch before Logan tries to pull away from Wade, just looking to retrieve his keys, but Wade turns and faces him fully. Logan has an icy moment, fumbling with the keyring before slotting the key into the lock and turning it; resolutely not looking at Wade as he opens the door into their shared space. The dogs are both waiting patiently on the couch, and Logan steps to one side so that Wade can slip his shoes off in the entryway, before toeing his own off and kicking them away to one side so that Al won’t trip on them the moment she decides to leave.

Wade makes his way over and sits on the couch, before lighting a cigarette and gesturing to Logan to come sit with him. He does, sitting a respectful distance away from the other man, and not touching him. Logan swallows hard and starts to open his mouth, but then Wade is passing the cigarette over and they’re sitting in almost total silence, in the dark. Logan knows they need to talk about it, but he takes the cigarette between his lips and stares holes into the side of Wade’s head and wonders who will be the first to break the silence.

Wade grabs the remote, flips the tv on to some bullshit channel with infomercials playing lowly for background noise, and Logan thinks it must be around 3am by now, and then Wade is turning to look at him. “So, peanut, not that this hasn’t been literally every wet dream of mine since I was old enough to have them, but what the fuck was that?”

Logan watches as Wade licks his lips after speaking, still throbbing hard and dead set on making this as respectful as he can manage to make this conversation. He sets his jaw, hands bunching in the material of his jeans and fights tooth and nail to get the words out, “What, like you hated it?”

Fuck, he’s whiffed it completely - Wade is laughing, and Logan relaxes a bit, “No, Logan I didn’t hate getting my soul sucked through my cock in public. But why now? I’ve been dropping not so subtle, entirely romantic and not at all desperate, hints at getting my hands on you for almost a year and a half.”

There’s a vein near Logan’s temple that ticks with the beat of his heart, and for a moment he thinks that there’s just too much blood in his dick and that he didn’t quite hear Wade properly, “Romantic?”

Wade plucks the cigarette away from him, puffing it a bit before flicking the ash in Logan’s general direction. “Well, maybe it was a touch more platonic than all that, but you get the idea.”

Logan wants to be anywhere but here, and he stands, intent on fleeing to the bathroom to take care of himself so that they can pretend this night never fucking happened when Wade is hooking a finger through his belt loop, pulling himself up to a standing position and crowding his face over Logan’s shoulder to breathe a cloud of smoke into Logan’s face.

“You wanna take that dick to the bedroom and wait for me there?” It’s an invitation as clear as any he’s ever gonna get, and Logan nods jerkily and takes a step forward - but Wade is pulling him back to bite at his ear and jesus christ he thought he was hard before. “Lose the clothes, peanut.”

Logan is practically stripping the moment he steps away, Wade breaking off to take the dogs to the back yard, caring as anything and Logan thinks he might love him more than he’s ever loved anyone in his life, but fuck he needs to tamp that down and just take whatever it is that Wade is willing to give him, platonic or otherwise; getting his hopes up is a recipe for trouble and he’s just not willing to lose it all like that. Not when he’s finally got it. Logan nearly trips out of the jeans, balling them up and throwing them at the hamper, mouth dry and dick harder than any adamantium. He slips onto the bed, propping himself up against the headboard and pulling the sheet up around himself so that he’s not so exposed if Wade is just fucking with him. God, please don’t let Wade be fucking with him.

The room is dim, Logan has clicked on the bedside lamp on his side, when Wade comes through the door, whispering quietly to the dogs as he shuts them out of the room (because he’s a good fucking parent, of course.) and turns to look over at Logan.

“You’re a good listener. Has anyone ever told you that? You get a gold star, peanut.” Wade is stripping his shirt over his head as he talks, mouth muffling as it gets caught around the neck hole by his mouth, “There’s some lube in my nightstand for sure, but I dunno about a condom. It’s been a minute.”

Logan practically throws himself across the bed to get to Wade’s drawer, jerking it open and staring down into the almost pitch black of it, before leaning up and clicking on Wade’s lamp. The light is dim, but shines directly on a fat stash of sex toys, and Logan’s face flushes as he shuffles them around to find what he’s looking for. There are no condoms that Logan can find, but his hand latches around the bottle of lube and he straightens up to look back at Wade.

“No condoms. D’you want-” He swallows, watching as Wade strips out of his slacks, “I can go get some.”

He wants to do this right, and if that means taking the fucking time to go find a convenience store that’s open at ass o’clock in the morning to grab a pack of condoms, he’ll do it. He won’t even question it.

“Nahh. You haven’t been sleeping around much lately, right, cowboy?” Wade is so certain, and Jesus he has no idea the dry spell Logan has been in, it’s been so long that he thinks it might burst if Wade looks at it for too long, “Besides, it’s not like I can get you pregnant.”

Logan doesn’t have shit to say to that, because Wade is crawling up the bed towards him, smiling slyly and perfectly confident. He straddles Logan’s hips over the covers and grabs the lubricant with one hand, tugging down the sheet with the other and exposing Logan.

Wade presses his lips to the corner of Logan’s mouth and he releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding, leaning into the kiss. His hands are hovering, unsure of where to put them and what he’s allowed to touch until Wade grabs one of them and pulls it to his own body, first sliding Logan’s fingers over his waist and then up to paw clumsily at his chest. Logan wraps his other hand around Wade’s waist and presses the other man closer to him so that they are touching more wholly, and Logan swipes his tongue over Wade’s lips. It’s then that Logan realizes Wade is touching himself, arm stuffed down the length of his own body to reach into the very core of him.

At this point, Logan is willing to do whatever it is that Wade wants, no questions asked. They don't talk about it, but god, he hopes they actually will, when this is all over.

Wade pulls back and stuffs his knees up close to Logans hips, and the he’s got his slicked up hand on Logan, thumb toying with the head of his penis and rolling against his foreskin, and he’s dropping his hips down and rolling up into Logan, and jesus fuck he’s so wet and hot. Logan’s got one hand pressed against Wade’s heart and one hand on his waist and Wade is running this show, pressing the tip of Logan’s cock to his hole and then pulling it up to rub against his fat little dick, slick as anything and Logan’s heart is jackhammering in his chest. He can feel Wade’s little puffs of breath against his face and he presses their cheeks close together to lip at Wade’s scarred chin, and this moment is the most intimate thing Logan has experienced in nearly one hundred years.

Wade is absolutely teasing him, and Logan squeezes a bit at Wade’s hip: Either urging him on or begging, he can’t even be sure it isn’t both, and Wade finally relents. Wade sinks down so fucking slowly, and Logan has to close his eyes and remind himself to breathe through it without biting through his lip, preferably. And christ but Logan is clinging to Wade for all he’s worth, stone-stiff and afraid to move and make Wade wake up and realize what a bad idea this is; but then Wade is seated fully, and pulling away to press his hands to Logan’s shoulders. He shifts his grip and he rocks his hips - it knocks the wind out of Logan for a moment, and then Wade is fucking bouncing on it like his life depends on it.

Logan slides his hand from Wade’s chest and down to his hips so he can shift the angle a bit, and plants his feet. He lets Wade take whatever he wants, go at his own pace and does his best not to shoot off on the upswing every time Wade lifts his hips. Wade is putting all that hyperactive energy to use, and Logan is silent as the grave. He’s letting little gasps of air out against Wade’s neck and Wade is eerily quiet, breathing out on Logan’s inhale.

“Logan,” He almost misses it, when Wade whispers his name on the exhale; he’s concentrating on not coming and not taking a fuckin bite out of the man riding him. Wade is breathing the words into his ear like he’s afraid to be too loud, “Logan, touch me. Come on baby boy, don't make me do all the work.”

Logan grits his teeth and in an instant flips the two of them over- knocking a grunt out of Wade. He’s hiking Wade’s knees up to his ears and plowing into him. He’s got one hand wrapped around the back of Wade’s knee, pushing it further up, and the other is snaking down to thumb at Wade’s cock, sitting fat and pretty between the two of them. Logan gives everything he’s got, biting at his lip and laying into Wade with most of his strength. He doesn’t want to break Wade’s hip, so he holds back and tucks the other’s foot over his shoulder.

Wade, fucking insane and cock drunk, pulls Logan’s hand off his leg and down to his throat where Logan rests it. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t tighten it, just applies the pressure that grounds Wade to him. Every thrust Wade is making punched out little gasps, open mouthed and panting and Logan thinks that if this is all it takes to shut Red up he could have been doing this the whole time.

“Wade.” Logan is close, and doesn’t want to stop, but Red’s eyes are rolling back in his head and he’s squeezing at Logan’s wrist where he grabbed at him, and that’s when Logan starts to apply actual pressure to Wade’s throat. He’s got one hand pressing tight little circles into Wade’s cock with his thumb, and the other hand pinching with two fingers and his thumb at Wade’s throat - Wade’s eyes shoot open and Logan is pretty sure he isn’t going to last much further, but there it is, Wade is coming around him and clenching even tighter when his body snaps tense.

Logan’s hips start to stutter, breath coming out in harsh pants and he fucks Wade though it, giving as good as he’s got in him before he’s shooting off inside and they should have fucking talked about that but it’s too late now, so he just keeps pumping his hips as he slows. He pulls his hand up and away from Wade’s throat and wipes some drool away from his lip, and pulls the other hand to hold at Red’s thigh and lower him down onto the bed. Wade’s eyes catch his and he smiles a somehow shy little smile at Logan, and Logan is flushing like anything. Logan sits back on his knees and the corners of his mouth tip up a bit at Wade.

They do a little shuffling, and they’re half sitting, half laying against each other when Wade pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his bedside table and passes one off to Logan, who takes it and presses it between his lips. Wade snatches a lighter from near the lamp, lighting his own cigarette first and then turning to flick the flame on at Logan.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Think you can stay out of that metal brainbox for a few minutes longer, or do you need to come with me so that I can keep you out of there?” It’s almost mocking, but the way that Wade says it, Logan knows he’s trying to keep himself safe, and keep Logan safe. How easily it would be to slip into a headspace where they don’t talk about this night, let it go and leave it alone and just keep living day to day like it never happened. But Logan doesn’t want that, and god dammit Wade is the one who made it okay for him to want things again. He nods, affirmative to which he isn’t sure, but he stands and holds out his hand to help Wade stand as well.

Wade slips off the bed and over to the laundry basket where he pulls a pair of shorts and some top out, opting to bend and slide on the shorts first. Logan can’t help but stare at him, feeling a growl rumbling in his chest as he watches come drip down Wade’s leg. He blinks at himself, and Wade rounds on him with a raised brow, shorts now fully in place and blocking Logan’s view.

Logan, still flushed, abandons his view of the other man. He sits gingerly back down on the edge of the bed and pulls the sheet over himself. Wade, in turn tugs the shirt over his head and slips out of the room, careful not to step on Charlotte who has posted up outside the bedroom door. Logan realizes, dully, that Wade must have left the television on for them, or to try and cover any noise the two of them made.

It only takes Wade a few minutes, but for Logan the seconds tick by at a glacial pace and he pinches his face at the prospect that this might be the only time he gets to have this. He thinks about how absolutely flawed his plan was, following Wade into that bathroom, and how everything has turned out so far since then. This might be the catalyst for the other shoe to drop, though, and Logan feels ice shred through his stomach at the thought of leaving this life behind -

“Uh oh, the demons got ya. I knew I should have made you hold my hand while I peed.” Logan snaps his eyes up to where Wade is standing at the edge of the bed, already stripping out of the clothes he pulled from the hamper and putting a knee onto the bed to crawl towards him, “Get the fuck in the bed and cuddle with me, handsome. I’m talking real good aftercare for both of us.”

He shifts, looking warily over at Wade, who is scooting his entire body as close into Logan’s space as he can, and Logan lays down - reaching up to click off the lamp and holds up the sheet so Wade can get under it. Wade shoves his head forward into Logan’s armpit and tucks his arms around his waist. Logan waits a beat for him to get comfortable, but after a minute wraps his arms around Red. Wade doesn’t say anything else that night, but if he does Logan isn’t sure of it, because after a while of listening to the other man’s breathing evening out, his heartbeat slowing, Logan falls into a comfortable sleep.

The first thing he realizes is that Wade isn’t in his arms anymore - because the fucker is under the sheet, sucking Logan to hardness in the morning light. It’s early, and Logan blinks the sleep from his eyes as he pulls the sheet up to stare down at Wade.

The other man pulls off, smiling at him, but strokes him still with his hand, “Morning, peanut, did you sleep well?”

“What?” Wade chuckles and swallows the head back down, pumping his wrist at the base - Logan fully erect, and only still confused a bit. Wade is a shitbird, Logan knows this, but he didn’t expect to be pulled from sleep this way. All thoughts go out the window when Wade sticks his tongue between the underside of Logan’s cock and the foreskin, licking at the glans and rubbing his thumb at the vein along the shaft, “Jesus Christ, Wade.”

Logan flings the sheet away and grabs at the other man, unsure if he’s trying to ground himself in this reality or just pull Wade closer. Wade, on the other hand leans in, taking Logan to the root in an instant - face pressed in close to his pubes, hands resting comfortably as anything on Logan’s thighs. Logan thinks that maybe this is how he dies, getting his soul sucked out through his dick as his eyes roll back in his head.

There’s a growl rumbling in his chest that he’s trying to keep quiet, but then Wade is rolling his balls in his hand and backing off a bit so that he can stroke Logan while sucking at the head of his cock and all bets are off on how loud he’s being, so he clamps a hand over his face and bites into the flesh of his own palm. Wade sucks him back down, alternating between sucking hard at the tip and tightening his throat around Logan while he takes him as far down as he can go.

“Wade-” Logan is right at the precipice, and Wade pulls back, sitting on his heels and grinning down at Logan like the cat who got the cream. It doesn’t last long, because Wade is shoving his way over top of Logan to seat himself fully on his cock like he fucking owns it, and to be fair, Logan lets him.

He rests his hands on Wade’s thighs as he grinds down, rolling his hips in slow circles; Logan can feel the hard stop inside of Wade when he presses down, cervix kissing at the tip of his dick in delicious pressure. When Red finally picks up and drops down slow, Logan’s hand chases up to rub at the little dick Wade’s got packing, encouraging him to go faster. Logan plants his feet and starts thrusting up into Wade meeting him thrust for thrust, knocking little punched out sounds out of the other man as he bites his lip to keep quiet. Logan is sweating, teeth bared and brow furrowed as he puts as much force as he’s willing to behind his thrusts, trying to keep a steady pace but failing as he starts to come undone.

Wade reaches one hand down to his thigh and grabs at Logan’s fingers, entwining his and Logan’s together. That’s how they come, Logan first and then Wade riding through his own orgasm before slumping forward to lay out over top of Logan’s chest. Logan doesn’t pull out, but tucks Wade’s head into his neck before rolling them on their sides. He toes up the sheet and tucks it over both of them, laying there while they breathe together listens to Wade’s heartbeat calm.

When Logan wakes up again, Wade isn’t in the bed, and it’s later in the day judging from the sunlight streaming in through the blinds. Logan blinks up and looks at Charlotte, who has been let into the room and is pawing at his chest. He reaches up to stroke her face, thumbing over a scar near her eye, before he sits up to get dressed.

He sighs, eyeballing the cracked door and listens to hear what’s going on in the living room. The TV is running low and Logan can smell at least one cigarette burning. He slides from the bed and wrestles some pants on, thin joggers that are comfortable and worn. He’s not sure if they’re his or Red’s but he’s damn sure they’re more normal than whatever Wade is wearing in the living room. He huffs as he pulls on a shirt, thinking about those stupid fucking ‘juicy’ pants, before he peels out barefoot into the hall. Charlotte trails behind him happily, eager to start the day.

He passes by the back of the couch on his way to the back door, eyes falling on Wade and Althea sitting and smoking together. Wade smiles up at him, offers up the cigarette from his own lips.

“Morning, peanut. Did you sleep well?” Wade is mocking him, and he can’t help but chuckle as he takes the cigarette between his lips and continues walking to the back door to let the dogs out. He steps out onto the back porch and Charlotte follows him, but Mary must have stayed where she was, stomach up on the couch with Wade.

As Logan turns to close the door behind the dog, Wade slips through it and picks the cigarette out of Logan’s mouth. He tucks himself, knees to chest, at the top of the porch stairs, and after shutting the door, Logan follows him. They look out at her as Charlotte looks for the perfect spot to tinkle, sitting in a comfortable silence.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Wade, as usual, is the first to break the silence, “Or are we just going to forget about it. Whatever you want, big guy, I’m flexible. But you knew that, haha.”

Logan looks over at Red and for all that he knows the other man, he can’t read his expression. He looks embarrassed and a little shy, but that can’t be right because Wade is the most confident fucking person Logan has ever met in his life. He doesn’t know where he keeps the insane amount of balls he’s walking around with, but Logan thinks that maybe it’s a little bit of a show and a little bit of a truth.

“I-” Logan starts with a dry throat and an even dryer tone, “I was thinking the same. Whatever you want.”

“Nu-uh, peanut. I asked you first.” Logan swallows hard, following along the line of Wade’s face as the other man stares out at Charlotte.

“I don’t want to. Forget about it, I mean.” Logan feels alien in his body, trying to stay grounded and not give into the feeling of checking out.

Wade makes an aborted turn to him, before staring back out at the yard. His hand is splayed next to him, and Logan reaches out and bumps his pinky against Wade. It makes the other man jerk his eyes down to their hands, and then up to Logan’s face.

“I don’t want to forget about it either. It’d be a damn shame not to get to ride that face ever again.” He’s joking, but not mocking, and Logan tries to hide the smile cracking along his face, but Wade is smiling all stupid at him and it’s nearly impossible not to smile back at that stupid fucker when he looks all soft and happy like that. Wade hooks his pinky around Logan’s and they face out to the yard again, and this isn’t talking about it, but it’s not not talking about it. Maybe they don’t need to wax poetic about it to understand each other, “Besides that, someone’s gonna have to get you pregnant someday, peanut, and who better to do that than me? It’s hard work but I’m willing to make that sacrifice-”

Logan shoves at him gentler than he deserves, really, and they’re laughing into the morning air.

Laura starts up at school a few weeks later, spending part of the week at the mansion and Friday through Sunday at home with Logan, Wade, and Althea. Logan thinks that maybe the kid is the bravest of all of them, because she’s willing to put in the work to actually seek out this universe’s X Men, Wade still doing whatever the fuck pulls him out of Logan’s arms at night. Althea and Logan spend their evenings playing bridge and chain smoking, and if Al does a little cocaine in her room before they play, well who the fuck is Logan to tell the old woman what she can’t do. Logan spends his days at the plant store, moving trees and some of the biggest philodendrons and other shit that the girls shouldn’t have to cart around, and then comes home at night to play with the dogs with Wade.

It’s early, when Logan feels Wade slip into the bed and crawl up to cuddle with him, eagerly sticking his face into Wade’s freshly showered neck. He blinks there, sleepily, and mutters a quiet, “Love you,” before falling back asleep against the other man kissing at his eyelids.

Notes:

Stay tuned for my next work, the sequel to this fic. Be gentle with me, dear readers. It's basically my first time.

alright gamers I wrote a deadclaws fic.

obligatory Hozier lyric title, domestic idiots to lovers, only one bed, TRANS WADE WILSON

listen it's like 22k words of me just trying to get Logan happy in his new world.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59852647?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_831874750

#i laugh like me again #wade and logan #wade wilson #deadclaws #poolverine #logan howlett #slow burn #logan x wade #Deadpool and Wolverine #worst!logan howlett #theyre my blorbos and o can do with them what i want #wade x logan #wade winston wilson

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zkyfall · 3 years ago

Text

Trans Arcane Week - Day 2: Family

A late submission for Day 2 and a preview of day 3: self-expression:

Silco’s always supported Jinx expressing herself. He shouldn’t have been surprised when she wanted to return the favor.

----

“One layer is enough right?” Jinx asks from her perch on the couch, boots and socks off and toes splayed wide so the freshly-multicolored nails don’t touch.

“No.” Silco answers from his permanent post at his desk, not looking up from a shipping manifest. “Let the base set, then build up, layer by layer.”

“Layers? What am I, a cake? How many? Two?”

“With a sealant on top, to preserve it.”

Jinx groans and kicks her feet into the air.

“Patience, child. These things take time.”

“I’ve been patient. Ugh, I need to create a formula that dries faster.” Jinx jumps to her feet and wobbles across the office to throw herself across the desk in an exaggerated swoon. “This is the WORST. I’m so BORED. Let me paint yours.”

Silco signs a looping ‘S’ on a dotted line. “No.”

Jinx grabs his hand anyways. He smoothly transitions his pen to the left hand and keeps working (the showoff). She nibbles her thumb and rubs at his fingers with her other hand, admiring the sheen of his nail bed. “Wow, you have really nice nails.”

“Because I don’t chew them.”

Jinx scowls and retracts the digit from her mouth. "GOOD. Then the nail polish will last longer."

A few seconds later, a colorful assortment of pilfered nail polishes are strewn across Silco’s desk. The full gamut of neons, pastels, and even some boring ones thrown in for CONTRAST.

“Hmm, what to pick, what to pick.” Jinx examines each bottle in turn: winners get a comfy spot on top of a pile of receipts while losers get chucked in the general direction of the couch. The temptation to pick pink or lime is almost overpowering but Jinx tamps it down. She’d have to ease her dad into those. Better to start with something he’d be only a little uncomfortable with, something already in his existing palette maybe–

“Ooooo, this one! Black. Bold. Fits the whole vampire goth thing you got going on.”

Silco lips quirk up at that. “Good guess.”

“What?”

“That was my preference, a long time ago. When I was around your age.” When Silco talks about the past, he either overflows with zealous passion (which means its BIG speech time ugh) or sinks into a wistful nostalgia. This time, Silco’s face softens. “Black or blue. It did look good.”

“Oooh, were you exploring the joys of adulthood? Finding yourself through creative self-expression?” Jinx rolls her eyes and gesturing at his stuffy attire. “Shame it didn’t pan out”

Silco sighs and leans back into his chair, carding fingers through his hair though it was already perfectly styled. “I put that part of myself away.”

Jinx furrows her brow, she’s been hoping he’d rise to her bait, not get…sad or whatever. “Like…you didn’t like it?”

Silco hums. “Not quite. It simply didn’t serve me.”

“Serve you? What happened to ‘wear what makes you happy, Jinx’?”

“Nothing. You should wear what makes you happy.” Silco leans forward and levels a steady gaze on his ward. “And I wear what gets me results.”

“Oh no,” Jinx groans, “I feel a lecture coming on and I’ve already hit my lecture quota for this week sooo–”

“I had to become what they fear, Child. That took some forms of self-expression off the table.”

“Hahahah, so that”–Jinx waves at his chest–“is what people are afraid of? Fancy vests with gold trim?”

Silco huffs a laugh. “Oddly enough, yes. People are strange. The structure, the materials, it sends a message.”

----

I WILL FINISH THIS, I SWEAR @arcanefandomweek

#transarcaneweek #silco #jinx #arcane #nailpolish #all the fathers day posts got me in a mood #so here's a lil familial bonding #arcane silco #arcane fanart #arcane jinx #the only reason Jinx's nails look good in this pic is because she JUST painted them before doing her toes ahah

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corrodedseraphine · 2 years ago

Text

every rose has its thorn | one shot

pairing: steve harrington x buckley!fem!reader

summary: Christmas is coming to Hawkins. It is a time of joy and forgiveness. It turns out that your sister's best friend is looking for a new place to live, and you happen to have a spare room in the apartment. It wouldn't be a problem if that friend wasn't Steve Harrington. A man whom the more you try to avoid even more often comes back like a boomerang. angst/fluff, slight enemies? to lovers

I got inspired while listening to the song "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" by Poison.

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

10 695 words

It's a bit long, but I hope you won't get too bored!

steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist

"No way Robin." You said placing the plates on the table. "Where did you even get the idea that I would agree to this?"

"Come on, y/n!" she cried out in a pleading voice. "We have one room free anyway, think of the advantages, we'll split the bills among three instead of just the two of us!"

"You know very well that it's not about the very idea of renting this room, but you must have hit yourself really hard in the head thinking that I would agree to live with Steve Harrington."

"But he has changed! You know very well! He's a really good man now. Besides, I thought you were over him, after all, you saved him from disgusting monsters several times, you took care of him after he was attacked by demobats!"

"Just because I didn't want him to die doesn't mean that suddenly my attitude toward him has changed. I still don't like him and I still consider him an asshole in love with himself." You rolled your eyes.

"That was a few years ago, and people change! Give him a chance, I beg you! His parents kicked him out of the house and he really has nowhere to go! You can't let him spend Christmas on the street!" Robin was awfully determined and you weren't surprised by her at all, together with Steve they became best friends (which you couldn't quite understand), so it was normal for her to want to help him. Her pleading gaze burned a hole in the back of your head as you walked to the kitchen.

"Can't he stay at Eddie's?" you sighed, knowing it wouldn't be right.

"That trailer can barely hold him and his uncle, you know that well. I am begging you, I promise it won't be that bad."

"Fine! but one mean word out of his mouth in anyone's direction and he's out the door, understood?" you turned around with a serious face. "And until the end of the next year one of you will have to take my turn at washing dishes, I don't care how you share."

"Thank you!" she excitedly ran up to you hugging you, and a moment later disappeared into the hallway, where she quickly grabbed the phone and dialed some number. "Pack your things dingus! She said yes!"

You couldn't stop a smile creeping onto your face when you saw Robin so excited, but when you remembered what it was caused by, all your energy focused on the anxiety of having to see the person you wanted to avoid for the rest of your life from now on, day after day.

Less than an hour later, Steve showed up on your doorstep with several cardboard boxes. An overjoyed Robin was showing him his new abode while you were sitting on the living room couch watching TV. You couldn't focus on what was just playing there. The presence of a man in the apartment triggered mixed feelings in you. It was not the mere fact that it was a man. You were sure that if suddenly Eddie or Jonathan or even Argyle wanted to move in with you, you would feel comfortable with that. But this particular man who was just unpacking his things in an empty room made your hands sweat and your body tense up every time he was near you. You knew that the upcoming weeks would be nerve-wracking for you, and adapting to the new conditions would not come easily at all.

As you turned off the TV and headed toward your room you bumped into each other in the hallway.

"uh, hey..." he said in an uncertain voice. "t-thank you for agreeing, you're really a lifesaver for me."

"Not the first and not the last time Harrington." You rolled your eyes. "To be clear, I'm doing this only because of my sister. The fact that you live here changes nothing between us." You added frigidly and, without waiting for a response, locked yourself in the room.

Memories began to gather in your head, which intensified your irritation. Even though it was several years ago you remembered perfectly what made Steve Harrington someone you couldn't stand.

The winter ball at Hawkings High was approaching, everyone was excitedly talking about their partners and creations, as if everyone had forgotten that there were other topics to talk about. Everything about the event seemed overwhelming to you, you didn't want to admit it, but you were jealous that everyone had already found their pair, and you had no one to go with. To avoid all the fuss you decided to hide in the library and focus on your studies, it seemed the best way out.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere." Steve's voice snapped you out of your concentration.

"I was just working on our project." you smiled at the sight of him. From day one, something about him made you want to get to know him better. It was a matter of time before your feelings developed toward him. However, Steve Harrington King of the School never looked in your direction. The queues of girls who lined up for him took up 100% of his attention, so when the teacher paired you up for a project you felt like you had won the lottery, because for the first time his attention was fully devoted to you.

"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about." he said, sitting down across from you. "I know we were supposed to meet tomorrow and prepare some things, but the coach is doing an extra training session for us and I can't miss it, sorry."

"Oh." you were disappointed, you had been looking forward to tomorrow's meeting for a long time, especially since it was to be held after school and at his house. You'd been wondering all week what to wear, how to style your hair, what his house looked like, since you'd never been invited to any of his big parties, so it was still a mystery to you.

"I'm so sorry! Maybe I can make it up to you somehow?" he sent you a smile that was capable of bringing anyone to their knees.

"But...how? So far I've done everything myself, you only signed your name on a piece of paper." you didn't hide the fact that you were upset.

"How about I take you with me to the ball as compensation?" he suggested. In that moment all the air went out of you and you had to suddenly remember how to breathe. Was this a dream? If so, you didn't want to wake up for all the world's sakes. "You okay?" he asked after a while seeing your shocked face.

"Yes!" you said too fast and louder than you wanted to. "I mean...yes, Steve. I would love to go with you."

"Great! So see you later?" He winked at you while heading for the door. If you hadn't been sitting there at that moment you would have been sure that his charm would have knocked you off your feet.

"Yeah..." you choked out still not believing what happened. By the end of the day there was only one thing on your mind already, and Robin couldn't handle the rush of joy you brought home with you that day.

The rest of the week passed quickly and pleasantly. Every day you saw Steve in the library doing a project, to which he suddenly started devoting a little more time than before. You had no idea where such a change came from, but it was obvious that you were happy with this course of events. Your happiness, unfortunately, did not last long. As Friday slowly came to an end you were walking towards the library with a smile on your lips when you noticed Steve with a group of friends. As you walked closer, hid behind a wall so they wouldn't see you and began to listen to their conversation.

"What do you mean we won't go to the ball together Steve?" Rachel was furious.

"Because I already have someone to go with." he replied quietly.

"After all, we agreed from the very beginning that we would go together!"

"I know!"

"Then who is the person you are standing me up for?" Silence. It was as if Steve had lost the ability to speak at that moment. "Steve?" Rachel didn't let go.

"I'm going with y/n."

"Y/n y/l?" interjected Hunter, his teammate. "Dude, have you lost your mind or what?"

"Tell me this is a joke and you're not shitting on me for this weirdo! You're way out of her league Steve, you know that perfectly well!"

"I know, but I had to think of something, she did almost the whole project for me, and that was the only thing that came to mind at that moment! I said it faster than I thought it through."

"You know that if you go with this loser, you won't win the title of king?"

"I know, Rachel." As if by the touch of a magic wand, all positive emotions fled from you in a flash. Sadness clenched your throat and made a sea of tears gather in your eyes. You had to get out of there, unfortunately, when you turned to go in the opposite direction someone bumped into you causing you to fall over and land right in front of the people you wanted to get away from so badly. Seeing this, the whole group burst out laughing.

"Get up, loser. We need to talk." Rachel stepped forward. "Our Steve sometimes doesn't think about what he says, so the fact that he invited you to the ball is one big mistake. How could you believe that someone like Steve would even want to look at you?" her venom-filled words made it harder and harder for you to hold back tears.

"Look, Steve! the loser really thought you liked her enough that you actually wanted to go to the ball with her."

"Steve would never look at you as anything more than a minion to do his homework for him. He needs someone by whom he's sure to win the title of prom king." Rachel continued. You dared to look at him. He was standing with his arms crossed, looking around at the faces of his friends and smiling at them. You couldn't believe that the whole situation was amusing him. It hurt you even more than the fact he was just toying with your feelings. The fact that the whole situation amused him tore your heart to pieces.

"Sorry y/n," he said seeing your heartbroken eyes. "But they are right." he shrugged his shoulders.

You didn't answer anything. With a quick step you left the school wanting to get home as soon as possible. Fortunately, there was no one in it. You spent the rest of the day in bed, accompanied by sadness and heartbreak, vowing never to let Steve Harrington get to your life again.

"Three minutes late!" your Aunt Monica shouted as soon as you appeared in the doorway of the pastry shop.

"I know, I know, sorry!" you said quickly stepping behind the counter. "A little trouble on the roads, people saw some snow and I think they suddenly forgot how to drive. But here I am, ready to work!" you lied. You couldn't admit that you overslept, your aunt, who was also your boss, had boundless patience however even she had some limits.

As soon as you were ready you got to work. You put fresh baked goods on the shelves, and when you were done, you switched with your aunt and together with the other cooks you took care of baking Christmas cookies, while she stood at the cash register. At first, working in a pastry shop didn't seem like the best thing for you, you had never been exposed to baking and didn't even feel much need for it. For the first few months you sucked at helping in the kitchen, it was as if you had two left hands and the only thing you were good for was lining up goods and cashing in customers. Your aunt, however, insisted that you learn at least the basics, and over time you actually finally began to get the hang of it to the point where no one was afraid to let you into the kitchen anymore. You were in the middle of preparing the icing when you were called to the cash register. On your way out of the kitchen you noticed that Steve was standing across the counter, the sight of which automatically made you feel your nerves tie a knot in your stomach.

"You have a visitor." said your aunt with a warm smile on her face.

"I'm at work, I can't have visitors." you replied dryly.

"You forgot to take breakfast from home... I thought I'd drop it off for you on my way to work." he said uncertainly placing a paper bag of food on the counter.

"Thank you. Now I have to get back." You quickly grabbed the bag and disappeared from their sight however, you heard him buy two more donuts for himself and Robin.

"What a lovely young man!" the woman said as she entered the room. "I see you've finally found someone who will take care of you."

"No!" you said exasperatedly. "Steve is Robin's hopeless friend who lives with us. He's a complete asshole and an idiot."

"The asshole wouldn't bring you breakfast, you know very well that Family Video is on the other side of Hawkins? He wasn't on his way at all."

You rolled your eyes and decided not to continue the conversation. You were furious. Another person around you had succumbed to Harrington's famous charms, and you didn't like that very much. Why was he even coming here? Does he think that bringing you breakfast will make you forget everything and let you be fooled again? That will never happen.

When lunchtime came you sat down with everyone at the table in the back room and opened your bag. In addition to the sandwiches you had made for yourself, there was your favorite chocolate, to which was attached a note saying "Have a nice day!". You looked at the bar with surprise when one of the senior cooks, Grace, leaned over your shoulder to read what it said.

"Someone here seems to have an admirer," she said melodiously.

"No." you said firmly feeling your cheeks burning. You didn't know why you felt embarrassed. Another wave of irritation at his behavior made you lose your appetite so you got up from the table, hid the sandwiches, and left the chocolate for your co-workers to share and eat. The rest of the day passed quickly however the mood remained the same. Still irritated, you couldn't stop thinking about the situation you were in. You knew that you had agreed to this yourself, but you never thought in your life that it would be so difficult and that it would get to the point where you would have to endure his presence even at work. Until now, even when you were forced to spend time with him, ignoring him was going fine. Now something had changed and you had no idea why.

Days passed, and Steve wasn't about to let go. Whenever you forgot to take your breakfast to work (and this happened quite often) he brought it to you. Every time there was also chocolate. When it was your turn to do your shopping for home, seeing you pull up in the parking lot he would come down and, without asking, take the bags from you and carry them upstairs to your apartment. When your favorite TV series was on, he always switched to the right channel at the same time so that you didn't miss an episode. When the kids visited you and ordered pizza he would always put two pieces on a plate and send Dustin up to your room to carry them to you, because he knew perfectly well that you would not accept them from him, and Dustin would not be denied. In mid-December when you and Robin were decorating your apartment he helped you, and the next day he brought the Christmas tree, which the three of you decorated together. He did many small gestures for you, which unfortunately did not escape your attention. You noticed each of them while trying with all your might to defend yourself from the affection that slowly began to appear in his direction. There were days when your anger and resentment toward him were dormant, and then you were grateful for the small gestures that relieved you. However, you didn't know why he was doing it. The purpose of it all was still a mystery to you, and that made you still feel insecure.

That morning when you woke up you had a feeling as if all your life had gone out of you. You were dizzy and felt an unpleasant nausea in your stomach. You also thought you might have a fever, but when you looked at your watch you noticed it was too late to look for a thermometer. You clumsily crawled out of bed and, fighting off all symptoms of feeling unwell, started getting ready for work. You could have taken the day off, but that would have meant that you would have had to spend the whole day alone with Steve, who also had today off and, as far as you knew, had no intention of going anywhere. Gritting your teeth, you left the house. Not wanting to drive in this state to work you took the bus.

"Hey, Halloween was already here, I don't recall hiring zombies! I'd sooner expect a Christmas elf here."

"I'm fine, I just slept poorly." You weren't fine at all. You felt incredibly weak. You were tripping over your own feet, unable to focus on anything, having trouble serving customers, not to mention that when you were in the kitchen the mere sight of food made you worse and worse.

"That's enough." Monica said in a firm tone as you once again stumbled over a chair. "Right now you are to go home and rest. If I see you here tomorrow I'll fire you, I swear."

"I can't go home now." you replied, feeling like you were in elementary school when your parents were angry about a bad grade in math.

"And why is that?"

"I took the bus today, the next one is only three hours away."

"Go to the back." She sighed, and you politely followed the order. The room was small and quiet. Sunlight broke through a small window, but it wasn't big enough to illuminate the entire room well. You sat down at a wooden table and hid your face in your hands. It's been a long time since you felt as nasty as you do today. When you rested your heavy head against the cold wall you felt relieved, but it didn't last long. You concentrated on your breathing, trying to make each inhalation deep in the hope that it would somehow help, but nothing came of it. You didn't know how long you spent there, it seemed like an eternity, when suddenly the door opened and your aunt and Steve appeared in it.

"What are you doing here?" you asked in a weak voice. You didn't even have the strength to sound angry.

"I called because I thought Robin would be there, but it turns out that Steve is off today and would be more than happy to take you home." her voice was very firm.

"I am fine." you replied.

"Stop being so stubborn y/n! You're off until the end of the week, I don't want to see you here until next Monday, now goodbye."

You hated that she was right. Reluctantly, you rose and shakily headed for Harrington's car.

"Do you want to stop at the drugstore and buy some medicine?" he asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"No."

The rest of the road passed in silence. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him glance at you from time to time as if to check if you were okay. It was as if he was worried about you, however, you didn't want to let it sink in. He has never worried about you and never will. At least, that's what you told yourself. It was easier that way.

Climbing the stairs to your floor proved to be a huge challenge for you. The more stairs you climbed, the more dizzy you became, so when you finally found yourself in the apartment you breathed a sigh of relief leaning against the wall.

"Go lie down and I'll make you some tea maybe it will make you feel better." At that moment you didn't know what had gotten into you. You didn't need his pity and feigned care.

"You can stop." you retorted.

"What?" he was visibly puzzled which angered you even more.

"Stop pretending you care, Steve. I'm not falling for it."

"It hasn't crossed your mind that maybe I really care about you?" This question completely knocked you out of your rhythm. What the hell was he talking about? Were these hallucinations caused by illness? Or was he telling the truth? No. You couldn't afford such a moment of weakness.

"You never cared about me, Harrington. Don't pretend it's different now."

"I've always cared about you, y/n."

"Don't bullshit me, Steve!" you shouted. "You humiliated me in the worst possible way, because of you I had no life until the end of school! Until the last day of school they bullied me for that situation. I kept praying that they would finally change the subject, that they would find something to distract them, but it didn't do anything. And you just watched and let it happen. I will never forget your fucking smile that you sent to your idiotic friends, who never missed an opportunity to laugh at me."

"I'm sorry, but it wasn't at all like you think, I really wanted to go to that damn ball with you then!"

"I can't believe you're still lying" you felt tears fall from your eyes. You felt again like you did in that school hallway. Hurt and helpless. In addition, the fact that you were sick did not help at all in controlling your emotions.

"I'm not lying!" he shouted. "I wanted to go to the prom with you, I really liked you, I still fucking like you y/n, but then I panicked. I was an asshole, an idiot for whom the only thing that mattered was becoming the king of the ball, being popular and liked by everyone. I was so blinded by it all that at that moment I didn't have the courage to tell the truth, so I just started nodding at them. I was a coward!"

"In that case, congratulations, I remember that you got your coveted plastic crown then, just like at every other ball I didn't go to because of you. I hope it was worth it in your opinion." Your tone was full of anger and regret. However, you felt relieved that you were finally able to get it off your chest after so long.

"It wasn't worth it and I will regret it forever, believe me this is one of the many things I will not be able to forgive myself for. But... I have changed, y/n. I really have changed, so please give me a chance to make it up to you somehow, to make it right I beg you."

"The last time you had to make something up to me ended very badly, Steve. I won't make the same mistake again." Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you turned your back to him and, without waiting for an answer, locked yourself in your room. You quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and lay on your bed wrapping yourself in a blanket. Not wanting to think about anything else, you played music and concentrated on the words of the songs and let all the agitated emotions slowly leave you. Suddenly a horrible tiredness caught up with you, which, combined with sickness, quickly lulled you to sleep.

At the same time, Steve sat in his room fighting guilt and self-pity. He hated himself for what kind of person he had been in high school, hated himself for how many people he had hurt because he was afraid of losing his status as king of the school. Now he knew that none of those things mattered. What did matter, however, were the consequences of his behavior. He spoke honestly when he admitted that he really liked you. When he finished school and started working with Robin at Scoops Ahoy you reappeared in his life again but this time things were completely different. Instead of warm smiles sent his way all he could count on were stares full of contempt. In fact, most of the time you simply ignored his presence, which caused him slight pain because he remembered how you were always eager to talk to him when you met in the library or in class. Back then you listened carefully to his every word and laughed at every joke, even the weak ones. Now he could only dream about it. At first he wanted to do the same thing. To treat you as if you did not exist, however, he could not. Every time you visited Robin at work at the sight of you his heart sped up. Later, things became much more complicated. Russians, Mind Flayer, Vecna, everything related to Upside Down messed up your lives decently. The struggle for survival brought people together, but it didn't work on you. At least not in Steve's case, which was another blow to him. However, he remembered that during one of the fights when he was lying barely conscious you shielded him with your own body from one of the monsters. When he was attacked by a herd of demobats you were the first to rush to his rescue and then without a second thought you took care of his wounds by sending him cool glances. Moments like those gave him hope that maybe things would still be good between you two someday. He wanted that more than anything else. However, at times when you did not have to fight to the death with the other dimension and met in groups together with the kids everything returned to normal, you spoke and looked at him only when necessary, extinguishing the flame of hope that was already barely smoldering. Despite this, he still did not give up. No matter how coldly you treated him he did not let go. Something always attracted him to you, and no matter how many times he tried he couldn't just forget about you. He wanted to make up for all the pain and sorrow you felt because of him, instead he wanted to make you feel happy, he wanted to hear you laugh at his jokes again, he dreamed of seeing you smile in his direction at least once more. He was sitting like this contemplating when suddenly he heard you run out of the room and slam into the bathroom.

You were awakened from your nap by a terrible nausea. Your stomach ached mercilessly and you felt you couldn't stand it any longer, so you quickly ran to the bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet. You didn't have to wait long when your stomach decided to return all its contents. The worst part was that you didn't feel any better. Opening the door, you saw Steve standing in front of it with a cup in his hand. Not having the strength to argue again, you just sighed and walked back to your room and he wordlessly followed you. Already lying in bed, you watched as he hesitantly approached and placed a cup of tea on the bedside table.

"If you need anything..." he said quietly looking at you. "Just call me." You didn't know if it was because you were sick or tired, but you felt like all the walls you were building to ward off him at that moment weren't doing their job as they should. It was as if, during your earlier argument together with the words, you had thrown out all the negative emotions, cleared the atmosphere and maybe were able to accept him as someone other than an enemy. Warm tea was indeed like a salve for your irritated stomach, after drinking it you felt better however you were still tired, which made you fall asleep once again. You lay in bed all day waking up and falling asleep every now and then. You noticed that every time you woke up the empty cup turned into a cup full of warm tea, in addition, there was a small ham sandwich next to it, because despite the fact that your stomach was exceptionally capricious today you had to eat something and Steve knew it perfectly well. Taking advantage of the fact that today, unusually, the door to your room was not closed, but ajar, from time to time he would peek through the gap left to see how you were feeling. As soon as he saw that you were asleep he took the opportunity to clean the empty dishes from the bedside table and re-brew the tea so that it was already waiting for you warm when you woke up. He made no secret of the fact that taking care of you gave him pleasure. For the first time in a very long time, he could see slight glimpses of warmth in your eyes instead of cold, heartless hatred. Once when you passed each other in the corridor you sent him a slight smile, which was a thank you for his care. Seeing it his heart skipped a beat. He didn't expect it completely, but seeing it then on your pale and tired face made hope bloom anew giving him a huge amount of motivation to keep fighting for you.

"Were you just in my sister's room while she is sleeping, you creep?" asked Robin. At the sound of her voice he jumped up.

"Shit, Robin. Keep your voice down or you'll wake her up!" he whispered.

"What's going on?"

"Your aunt called for someone to pick her up from work today because she's sick, so I went. She's been sleeping all day and throwing up in shifts." he explained.

"And you, as a good roommate, sneak into her room when she's sleeping and make sure she's still breathing?" she raised one eyebrow.

"It's not funny Robin." he said, annoyed that the whole situation was amusing her. "I just make sure she's not missing anything. I'll bring her warm tea from time to time, after all, that's not a bad thing! Besides, I'd do the same for you!"

"Easy, tiger," Robin raised her hands in a defensive gesture. "I was just messing with you. Actually, I'm grateful to you, she's stubborn enough that she would never ask for help. Not even me."

Looking one last time in your direction, Steve closed the door of your room and headed for the living room. He sank into the soft cushions of the couch and sighed deeply, feeling disappointed because Robin's return home meant that she would now take the lead in caring for you.

For the next two days, you still didn't have the strength to get out of bed, so Robin took time off work to be at home if necessary. By the third day you were feeling better, so with a calm head she was able to return to work leaving you alone in the apartment.

Enjoying the peace and quiet, you took this time to do a little cleaning and later to prepare dinner, which was a form of thanks for the fact that she and Steve were taking care of you. Reluctantly, you had to admit that you were slowly beginning to see in him what the rest of them had long seen. When they returned home warm food was already waiting on the table. Seeing the three plates Robin gently poked him on the shoulder and sent him a broad smile, and Harrington responded with the same upon seeing this small gesture. Dinner passed as pleasantly as ever for you. They told you about the strange customers they had to serve today and the even stranger movies they were interested in. You listened to them and occasionally burst out laughing or injected some comment. In addition, your sister kept inundating you with her uncertainties about today's band meeting, as her relationship with Vicky had been quite complicated for some time. She couldn't stop wondering what she should wear for tonight how to behave, what to say. You and Steve sent each other a communicative look and began to calm her down. After dinner, they cleaned up everything, and in the meantime you sat on the couch watching them. Your eyes periodically met the hazel ones of your roommate, who always responded with a warm gentle smile. Then you felt a strange warmth on your cheeks, so you abruptly turned your head the other way just so he wouldn't see the red that flooded you. Finally, unable to bear the onslaught of strange tingling and rapid heartbeat in his presence, you decided to hole up in your room for a while.

A loud banging on the door sounded around the apartment. Before you had time to approach and open it Max was already inside throwing a red rose on the floor and then herself on the living room couch.

"Woah! Hey, what's wrong?" you asked walking up to the girl.

"Feelings suck!" she exclaimed and sank her face into a fluffy pillow. You sat down next to her and, stroking her back gently, waited for her to calm down.

There were quiet sniffles coming from the living room when Steve came out of his room and saw a flower lying on the floor. Startled, he followed the sound of sobbing. Max always seemed to be the toughest of all the kids. Rarely was anything able to get her off balance and make her cry, so the state she was in now worried you both a lot. From the thrown rose, Steve deduced that the matter probably involved Lucas. So he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the chocolate ice cream that he and Robin kept for tough and sad situations. This one was definitely that. On the way, he grabbed three spoons and took a seat next to Max, so that the girl would be between the two of you. Taking the box of ice cream from him, she placed it on her lap so that you all had easy access. You turned on the TV for a music program and in silence began to eat ice cream while watching music videos and listening to them. When you finished, you saw that Max had calmed down a bit.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" you asked in a calm tone grabbing her hand, and she squeezed it tighter to pull you closer. Understanding what was going on, you sat down as close as you could and hugged her. Despite the tough girl she played, everyone knew very well that in difficult moments she loved to hide in the arms of people she trusted to feel safe. That's why Steve, after a moment's thought, put his arm around both of you. Feeling his touch made you stiffen. One part of you wanted to run as far away from this as possible, to get away from him and never be touched again in your life. However, the other part turned out to be stronger. It was the part that found a comfort you had never known before. Feeling you relax, he began to gently draw small circles on your arm. All three of you sat snuggled into each other now creating a very family picture. If anyone saw you now, they would never in their lives guess that Steve is the person you hate. But was hate still the only emotion you felt when thinking about him? Just a few weeks ago you would have been more than sure, but now? You were horrified by the speed at which your feelings were stirring and changing.

"Feelings are stupid." Max said tilting her head toward Steve.

"I can agree with that, but I need a little more detail." You laughed lightly.

"It's about Lucas and his stupid basketball. His stupid friends, his stupid parties. Everything is stupid!" she burst out. "It's the third time in a row he's forgotten about our date because suddenly some party with his team fell out. I keep seeing the cheerleaders drooling at the sight of him, he started sitting with them in the cafeteria, he left us!"

"I'm sorry..." you understood the feeling perfectly. High school was like a terrible jungle full of divisions and species, which poor Max now had to deal with.

"You know what the worst part is? That damn prom! Lucas got nominated as king, I heard the cheearlider captain, Triss, planning to invite him. I heard her laughing with her hopeless friends that Lucas will never get the title of king if he goes with me." her voice began to crack. "I don't even know why it hurts me so much, after all, I never cared about things like that stupid prom!" the memories began to come back to you at a deadly fast pace. Suddenly the touch you felt on your arm was no longer soothing, you felt it burning your skin, where terrible scars would remain. Under the pretext of going to get tissues, you quickly moved away from them, and when you returned you knelt down in front of the girl and put your hands on her legs which she was shaking nervously.

"Maybe it's about your fear that Lucas will choose Triss?" you asked quietly.

"I don't want the stupid plastic crown to be more important than me."

"I know, honey, I know..." Of course you knew. You knew exactly how she felt and you wanted nothing more than to protect her from those feelings. Max didn't deserve to ever feel inadequate and worthless the way you did back then.

Steve felt as if someone was sticking a knife straight into his heart and slowly twisting it in every possible direction without a hint of compassion. He hated the sight when any of the kids were suffering. In addition, looking at Max's glazed tears, yours from that day appeared before his eyes. The pain he saw in them when you looked at him haunted him until today. He imagined how awful you must have felt. It occurred to him that you must have looked like that too when you came home that day. Suddenly he felt tears come to his eyes too, he chased them away with a quick blink and grunted drawing your attention back to him.

"And what's with the rose?" he asked.

"He came to see me with it after school. I thought he was going to ask me to the prom, but he only came to say that once again we would have to postpone our meeting because he got an invitation to some idiotic party."

"Every rose has its thorn." you quoted a song you recently heard.

"What do you mean?"

"Every rose, no matter how beautiful, has thorns. Just like people, even the most beautiful ones have flaws." You explained. "Talk to him Max. You've been through so much together, I'm sure you can get along. Besides, I think that for Lucas you are one of the most important things he has in his life and he will never let anyone or anything take your place."

"He already allows it, he still chooses to meet with his teammates and cheeliders instead of me," she said.

"It seems to me that it's just a temporary admiration of popularity and he doesn't see things the same way you do."

"Y/n is right, you need to talk to him about it." interjected Steve. "The title of king is worthless, even more if he had to lose you because of it." Saying this he looked at you all the time, you felt his gaze on you however you did not dare to respond with the same. The tone of his voice, though, told you everything. You didn't have to look at him to notice how hard this topic was for him. You also noticed the moment when his voice broke slightly, as if Steve was about to join Max and cry with her. Maybe he was telling the truth and actually cared about you?

"I'll talk to him, but tomorrow, there's no time today anyway because they have a Hellfire meeting." sighed Max. "Can I stay here? I don't want to be alone right now." she asked.

"Of course you can. Why don't we order pizza for dinner and have a movie marathon?" you said enthusiastically. She only smiled slightly and nodded her head.

"I'll go get you some movies from Family Video." suggested Steve. "I still have to drive in somewhere on the way anyway." He said leaving the two of you in the apartment.

The road to Hawkins High passed quickly for him. All the time in his head he replayed the situation from a few years ago, then thought about how to lead the conversation with Lucas. Also, your words that every rose has thorns echoed in his head all the time. There was a time when he was like a beautiful rose to you, and when you finally managed to catch it, its thorns were sharp enough to hurt you so badly that they left scars. All alone, he allowed a few tears to run down his cheeks. The flood of emotions that were simmering inside him had to find some outlet eventually.

When he entered the drama room, they were just getting ready for the campaign. There were still a few people missing, but luckily Lucas was already there.

"We need to talk," he said, pointing at the boy.

"Something wrong?" interjected Dustin with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Dude, were you crying?" added Eddie seeing his friend's still glazed eyes.

"Max was at your place?" Lucas guessed immediately.

"Yes." sighed Steve ignoring Eddie's question. "We need to talk about the prom. Who are you going to go with?"

"Of course with her, I wanted to invite her on Monday after school to go for a walk and then ask her if she would go with me."

"So you had no intention of going with the cheerleader?"

"Of course not Steve! Why should I?"

"Because of the nomination for king."

"Dude, you don't think some piece of plastic is going to be more important to me than Max?"

"I hope not." Steve was glad Lucas was a lot smarter than he was. Feeling relieved, he plopped down in one of the chairs and hid his face in his hands.

"Steve what's wrong with you?" interjected Will who had been watching him for a long time.

"I just- just wanted to make sure Lucas doesn't do anything stupid," he said.

"And he won't tread in your footsteps?" Eddie's words were on the mark. Seeing the surprise on the boys' faces, he continued. "Do you think why y/n always avoids Harrington, and when she has to talk to him she spits venom?" Steve didn't want to raise his eyes. He was ashamed because he knew the kids had always admired him, now their opinion of him might change when they knew how he treated y/n a few years ago. "Once upon a time, back in the days of King Steve's reign in the kingdom of Hawkins High y/n only had eyes of him. Unfortunately, she was never very popular or well-liked, so she belonged to a group of outcasts who were forbidden to even come close to those in the royal group. When a ball at the castle was approaching, his highness Harrington saw in poor y/n a candidate for his partner. The girl delightedly accepted the invitation. The whole kingdom was boiling with gossip when for the next week the King and the peasant girl met in the library, spending long hours there. No one knew exactly what went on behind the library doors. However, everyone could see how the previously unnoticed y/n was up to radiating joy. No one had ever seen her so happy in her life, and some suspected that a local quack had treated her to some not-so-legal herbs, but they were wrong. The reason was King Steve, by whom she was finally noticed. Unfortunately, the good fairy spell didn't work for long. It turned out that the crown of the king of the ball was more important than anything else, so King Steve gave up the company of y/n and went to the ball that the noblewoman Rachel, breaking the heart of the peasant girl in the process. But that's not all, instead of refusing her in solitude King Steve did it in the presence of his army of half-wits, who already to the very end persecuted and ridiculed her at every possible turn, and our king never stood up for her."

"If that's true then I'm not at all surprised y/n couldn't stand you." commented Dustin. "But fortunately you've changed," he added.

"After all, y/n agreed for you to live with them, right? That means all is fine between you two?" interjected Mike.

"It's not that simple." Steve stood up. "Recently I have the impression that things are a little better, but not quite." he remembered the two of you arguing a few days ago. "I think she will always hate me." he added sadly.

"There is a very thin line between love and hate Steve..." Eddie laughed lightly. "You don't even know when they start to mix together until eventually one turns into the other. If you've managed to win her heart once before, why not try again?"

"How can I do that when most of the time she won't even talk to me? For several years I've been trying to show her that I've changed, that I regret all this, but she stubbornly refuses to let me."

"The apology must be as big as the mistake you made." commented Dustin.

"But I have no idea what to do! How do I apologize to her when there are days when she doesn't want to look at me? How do I get her attention? Today I really thought something would change. When Max came in and needed a hug we sat down so that I put my arm around both of them. For the first time in several years she let me touch her and didn't run away. I even got the feeling that she liked it, until Max mentioned the whole prom situation, how the cheerleaders said Lucas would never win the title of king if he went with her. That's when it all came flooding back and she ran away from me like she was burnt."

"Wait, they really said that?" interjected a shocked Lucas.

"Yes, that's why I came here. I had to make sure you were smarter than me.

"Of course I'm smarter Steve, I would never treat Max the same way." The boy's words hurt, but he knew they were true. He deserved them. After everything he had done to you, he knew he deserved a lot of hurtful words. "Even if I sometimes make mistakes it's never that big," he said.

"Yeah, Every rose has its thorn, right?"

"What?"

"She said that to Max today, people and their flaws are like a rose with thorns."

"I think I even know where she got that from." Eddie said with a smile. "It's the title of Poison's latest song. Dustin, do you remember? We were listening to it the other day as she helped us paint the figures."

"Yes I remember." The teenager nodded. "And I think I have an idea on how to get her to finally give you a chance to make things right."

As Dustin presented his plan, the rest of them got involved as well, adding their ideas. It was a plan that could either fix everything or completely destroy it, leaving nothing left to salvage. All the while thinking about it, Steve returned home with a couple of Christmas movies in his hand, but he lost track of time so much that when he entered the living room he found you and Max there, both of you asleep on the couch while watching TV. The girl, wrapped in a blanket, was lying with her head on your thighs and you were leaning slightly against the edge of the couch. Not wanting to wake you, he went straight to his room thinking about how to put Dustin's plan into action. It was risky, he knew it might be too much, but he had nothing else. He was desperate to get you back. Living together with you made him realize how much he wanted you in his life. You constantly occupied his thoughts, he had no peace from it even when he slept because then you visited him in his dreams. However, in dreams there was no trace of hate. In dreams you were again sitting together in the school library laughing and talking. In dreams you would let him grab your hand and when he did it you smiled broadly. In dreams he could hide you in his arms when you were again in the Upside Down hiding from the Demogorgon. In dreams he could kiss you. When, after defeating Vecna, you sat on the porch of Hopper's hut feeling relieved that it was over. You sat in silence, and as soon as he said your name you left. However, in his dreams you always stayed and listened to what he had to say. When he finished speaking and apologizing for everything he had done to you, you forgave him. With a slight smile, you placed your hand on his and he then moved closer to you and connected your lips. Later, he would wake up and try at all costs to fall back asleep to return to that beautiful moment.

The next few days flew by quickly and were filled with doubts. Robin suspiciously often left home leaving you alone with Steve. You stopped hiding all day in your room and spent more and more time together. Conversations usually started with small topics about Christmas plans and gifts. When Steve said that he would rather spend Christmas alone you felt sorry for him. No matter how much you defended against it you were beginning to like him and didn't want him to spend it alone in his room, so you suggested he join you and Robin when your parents came over on Christmas morning. After a moment's thought, he agreed and thanked you by sending a warm smile that made your heart beat harder. You felt the old feelings towards him returning and didn't know what to do to suppress them inside you again. As time went by, more and more thoughts about him popped up in your head, so you had to find something to do. You decided to clean the whole apartment, avoiding Steve and Robin's rooms. You started vacuuming, mopping floors and wiping dust while listening to music loudly, so you didn't hear your flatmates come home after several hours of cleaning. You were just standing on a wooden stool and cleaning the windows when Robin came behind you and shouted loudly. Frightened, you jumped up and, losing your balance, fell straight into the arms of Steve, who was standing next to you.

"I got you." he said clasping his arms around you.

"T-Thanks," you howled, exiting his embrace. Once you slipped out of his grasp you felt an unpleasant coldness envelop you. It was as if you were missing the warmth you had felt just a moment ago leaning against the boy.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be so scared." Robin said, however, a small smile was visible on her face. "I see you didn't wait to clean up for us?"

"I had to do something." you replied. "But don't worry, your rooms haven't even been looked at, so you'll have time to clean up."

"And I already thought that the magic of Christmas would work and you would do the good deed and clean up for me." she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"In your dreams!" you said and poked her lightly. "I'll finish cleaning the windows, and you will make dinner in the meantime. I'm starving!"

"Just try not to fall again you wimp, this time there will be no one to catch you." she said while winking at you. She wanted to let you know that she had noticed a change in the atmosphere between the two of you. Robin was a great observer, so she immediately noticed the warming of your relations.

"Shut up Robs." you said and quickly turned toward the windows so that neither of them would notice the redness on your cheeks.

The day before Christmas you were not given a rest. Suddenly everyone remembered that it would be appropriate to wrap presents, so Dustin, Will, Mike and Lucas begged you for help because it turned out that wrapping things with colored paper was too difficult. In time, you were joined by Max And El. That's how you just spent the whole afternoon hidden from the world in Mike's basement.

Unaware of the ruse, you didn't suspect that the kids were deliberately packing everything wrong so that you would stay put for as long as possible and not come home until the evening. When the packing was finally over Dustin caught you before you left the house.

"Can I have a request of you?" he asked quietly.

"Anytime." you replied seeing his nervous look on his face.

"Just... remember that Christmas is also a time for forgiveness, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just Promise, please!"

"Okay Dusty, I will remember."

The boy hugged you tightly and only then let you go home.

At the same time, Robin was helping Steve put the finishing touches on Dustin's plan so that everything worked out perfectly.

"I'm really glad you're doing this." your sister said looking at the living room which was hung with little Christmas lights.

"Do you think this will work?" asked a confused Steve while nervously combing his hand through his hair.

"I have no idea. I think it will work, but there's also a chance that she'll get so mad that all the monsters in the Upside Down will look like puppies next to her."

"I really care about her, Robin."

"I know dingus. That's why I'm helping you. If it weren't for how much you've changed I would never in my life have let you get close to her."

"Yeah..."

"We need to think positively."

"What's going on here?" you asked as you entered the room. Robin wordlessly ran out of the apartment leaving you alone with the boy. The soft light of Christmas lights was spreading around the room, plus there were single roses scattered everywhere. "Steve, what the hell is going on here?" you felt your nerves rise to your throat.

"Before you leave and start hating me again I beg you to wait. Let me explain, let me try to explain," he said walking up to you and grabbed your hand. "Please." Disoriented you looked at him and then at your hand tucked in his. Later you looked around the room again connecting the dots. It was all planned, and everyone was involved in this intrigue. Now you understood what Dustun had in mind before you left the Wheeler house.

"Fine," you said quietly. The boy's face lit up as he pulled you toward the Christmas tree under which hung a small box.

"This is for you." He said pulling it off the branch and handed it to you. Inside was a silver necklace with a rose-shaped tag. Surprised, you looked at him and were about to say something however he immediately interrupted you. "I can't get your words out of my head about that rose when Max came. I know I don't deserve it, because my thorns hurt you badly, but I would like to use my Christmas wish for something I lost a few years ago." He walked over to the radio, from which, after a while, the sounds of a familiar song began to play.

We both lie silently still In the dead of the night Although we both lie close together We feel miles apart inside Was it something I said or something I did Did the words not come out right Though I tried not to hurt you Though I tried But I guess that's why they say

Still under the influence of shock, you didn't know what to answer. There was a void in your head, your heart was racing toward the boy, so it had no problem taking control, so when Steve extended his hand in your direction and asked you to dance you gave him yours. He pulled you close by gently placing his hand on your waist. His hands were pleasantly warm. As you swayed to the rhythm of the melody he did not take his eyes off you still smiling. He thought he couldn't feel happier than he did in that moment.

Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn Yeah it does

With each word you were closer and closer to each other, the gap between you ceased to exist. Your heart was pounding hard and fast. At first it was due to nerves, however, very quickly you relaxed and found comfort under his touch. Your brain told you to run as far away as possible, but your heartbeat drowned it out very effectively.

Though it's been a while now I can still feel so much pain Like a knife that cuts you the wound heals But the scar, that scar remains I know I could have saved a love that night If I'd known what to say Instead of makin' love We both made our separate ways

"How did you find this song?" you mouthed finally.

"I had a little help." He smiled. "Do you like it?" you nodded affirmatively. You didn't know what was happening to you, tears began to invade your eyes, you felt like you were about to explode. You had so many thoughts in your head that one merged with the other creating one big mess in which you couldn't find yourself. You rested your head on his chest so that he wouldn't notice what was happening to you, hoping that the swaying rhythm would calm you down.

And now I hear you found somebody new And that I never meant that much to you To hear that tears me up inside And to see you cuts me like a knife I guess Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn| Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn

When the song came to an end you didn't want to pull away from him. You knew that when you did he would notice the tears streaming from your eyes. Feeling you still hiding your face in his sweater and not moving he worriedly looked down.

"y/n?" he asked quietly moving his hand to your back where he began to gently stroke you. "What's wrong?" in response he heard only a quiet sniff. He automatically hugged you tightly wanting you to feel safe in his arms. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know Steve." Your voice was weak and squeaky.

"Talk to me, please."

"It's just...a few years ago it was all I dreamed about. I dreamed of you Steve, and then when I thought something had changed, that you finally noticed me..."

"I acted like a complete asshole." he finished for you.

"You broke my heart, Steve. For such a long time you allowed others to destroy my life. Day after day, the sight of you in the hallways reminded me that I wasn't good enough for you. What if it's the same now? If after time you find that I'm still not like that? That you can afford something better? I can't stand it a second time Steve. If I forgive you now this rejection on your part will hurt me even more than it did then."

"No y/n, no." said cupping your face. "I don't deserve you, it's me who is not good enough for you. You're a million times better, but I can't stand the way things are between us anymore. You're like the most beautiful rose in the world and I want nothing more than to make you mine, with or without thorns. I want to make you happy and show you that you deserve the best. I know you have every right not to forgive me, but I promise that if you do I will do everything in my power to make sure you don't regret this decision. I need you in my life y/n."

"You have to promise me that everything you're saying now is true." Seeing your heartbroken eyes, he felt his heart breaking into pieces. He was sick of watching you cry because of him.

"I swear. I swear on everything."

"Okay." You whispered after a longer moment of thought.

"Okay?"

"Yes, Steve, we can start from the beginning, but that doesn't change the fact that I will need a lot of time to fully trust you. It won't be easy."

"I'll give you as much time as you need."

"Fine." You smiled slightly. "Thank you, Steve..."

"For you, everything." He hugged you tightly, filled with joy. ""That means you'll accept my gift?" he asked after a while.

"Of course I will, it's beautiful." he quickly walked over to the table where you had left the box earlier and took out a necklace from it, which after a moment he fastened around your neck.

"I don't want to push or rush things too fast, but there's one more thing I've really wanted to do for a very long time." he said looking into your eyes.

"What is it?" with a movement of his head he pointed to the ceiling. When you followed your eyes there you saw how centrally above you hung a mistletoe.

"Am I to understand that this was also part of the plan?" you asked teasingly.

"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't..." responsible scratching the back of his neck with his hand. You chuckled walking up to him. You stood on your toes to reach his cheek and kissed him there.

"I think that's enough for now," he said.

"R-right...Uhm- Do you feel like a little movie marathon? I happen to have some movies."

"I would love to."

Forgiveness was never a simple matter, and you knew you still had a long and winding road ahead of you, but you had a feeling it was worth the risk. Steve, in turn, realized he was wrong. Sitting on the couch with you now, putting his arm around you and knowing that you had finally given him a chance after so long, he felt even happier. And happiness was the best motivation to always show you how much he cared about you.

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bisexual-horror-fan · 3 years ago

Text

Through The Heart Is The Only Way. Chapter Three. "Getting Closer." Poly!Chiffany X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Hey, hey, hey!

New chapter is here! Masterlist is here! Soooo I know, I know, almost two months with no new chapter, terrible of me, eh? But I got busy! Two year anniversary of this blog and my writing career, hitting 1,500 followers, doing a giveaway to celebrate and writing 15 some odd fics in like less than a month will do that.

I appreciate the patience and I hope this 6K update is worth the wait! I am so excited to be getting back into this, I really love this chapter and the direction this is going. Just as the title suggests our triad is getting closer, more is happening and I hope you all eat this up! Let’s not linger any longer, here we fucking go!

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Rating. SFW. Length 6K. Charles Lee Ray X Tiffany Ray Valentine X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings. Alcohol Consumption. Smoking. Teasing. Flirting. Brief Mention Of Murder.Kissing. Not Much Else.

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It’s not like you cared that much.

Or at least that is what you tried to tell yourself anyway.

It was hard to remain convinced of that though when they came into the club again that following weekend and that wide grin spread across your face upon seeing them. You were surprised but you shouldn’t have been, they said they would come back and true to their word they did. You had been at work around two hours and yet you found yourself fucking with your hair a little, eyes dropping down to your outfit, smoothing down your skirt, concerned that you still looked okay before you stopped. What were you doing? You were being ridiculous, they were your customers, nothing more, besides that they are together.

You need to stop. Both the weird thoughts of wanting and the insecurity.

This was you we were talking about here and you are hot as fuck. You know that, you put in a ton of effort before leaving the house each day for work, looking good was part of your work, the better you look the better the tips after all. You shake off the current line of thought and decide to do another lap around to check on your other tables before making your way to them so you don’t seem overeager.

You come up from behind, Tiffany was leaning against Chucky, he had an arm around her waist, they looked so good together like this. You choose when there was a lull in their conversation to greet them. “Hi! Hope you two haven’t been waiting too long.”

They both seemingly perked up at hearing your voice, turned and you could see what they were wearing better. Did they ever look bad? Her in something short and tight and him in that space between casual and formal that he looked way too comfortable and right in.

You wondered what they looked like outside of the setting of your work, when they weren’t dressed up for a night out. Either way their attire wasn’t helping these weird feelings you kept trying to push out of your mind.

“Tiff look, it’s our favourite boy scout.” Chucky said easily and Tiffany gave him a gentle elbow to the ribs as her expression shifted to mild annoyance, taking what he said as if he was being a dick, “Hey c’mon now, that’s mean! She looks great.”

You laughed, resting your drink tray on your hip. You corrected her, “No, no it’s a call back to something I said when we first met, he’s being cute.”

Chucky rubbed at his side jokingly as if what she did actually hurt, a grin as he looked rather pleased with how you’d jumped to defend him. “Yeah, hear that? I’m being cute.”

“Mmm real sorry for jumping to conclusions.” She said in a somewhat apologetic tone and he sighed as if he was doing her a big favour when he said, “I supposed I can forgive you.”

“How generous of you.” She rolled her eyes fondly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. You enjoyed this, seeing how they were together, they were obviously a great fit. You liked the air about them and the banter they shared.

You eye the light imprint of plum coloured lipstick she left behind on his face for a little too long as you ask with a smile, “So what can your loyal boy scout get you both?”

They order a couple of cocktails and you go get them and the night presses on. It’s a really good Saturday by all accounts. You get them more drinks and talk casually in between your other tables. You find yourself unable to stop yourself from constantly looking at them, stealing glances at them to see them drinking, laughing, talking, flirting, dancing and kissing. Whenever you catch those moments of deeper intimacy you do your best to force yourself to look away, you don’t want to and yet you do at the same time, something aches in your chest when you do.

It’s only once you had bid them farewell and they left, that the club had closed down and you were walking to the train station that you realised the feeling that had settled into your chest was longing.

You would see them being physically close and you were fucking pining, God, how pathetic could you get?

They were customers at your job and again they had each other! Who were you? Just some fucking waitress, one that they were probably just being nice to, maybe they tipped everyone this well? Were they this nice to everyone? It might be just who they are as people. You could barely focus on what Jackson was saying on the platform as you waited for your trains, you were too in your own head. You gave a small wave as he got onto his train, a nod and a promise to see him tomorrow.

You wished you could be part of what they had but that was impossible. You made a small disgusted sound to yourself as you boarded the train, you needed to get over this.

That night at home your bed feels lonely for the first time in a long time.

Unbeknownst to you the pair of them talked about you on their own trip home that night.

The club you worked at was a good time, reasonably priced as far as some other clubs in town go, a good atmosphere and better drinks but the real find, the best part? Was you.

They liked you. They really fucking liked you.

You were cute and fun, funny, attentive and while they were aware part of it could be simply because of you just doing your job but it didn’t read that way. The pair thought themselves able to judge people pretty well and there was some quality to you that read as being genuine in your care and interest of them. There was a possibility that you were just the best actor that they have ever seen but it was far more likely that you saw something in them the same way that they saw something in you.

Not to mention the way you had been able to help lead them to some new victims and potentially could, to many more.

They knew you’d been looking too, and had caught you stealing quite a few glances their way tonight. They definitely needed to do something about this.

The next week passes by the same as always and you try not to linger on the thought of them and you manage to fall into a groove with your work and mostly stick to that. Until the weekend rolls around again.

You expected to see them. Maybe that was stupid, no one said that they had to come in every single weekend, hell they didn’t even say: “See you next weekend!”

So why did you keep looking to the doorway like they might come through at any moment?

Point is they didn’t come on Friday or Saturday or Sunday and that was fine, rather you try to convince yourself it is. You’ve been trying to convince yourself of a lot of things lately it seemed.

You didn’t want to go home right away but for once all your coworkers were busy and had plans after work. You are really hungry and decide that fuck it, you can go get a little take out for yourself before going home. It’s early February, late and cold as hell and worse still it is pelting down with rain.

You are in the mood for one thing in particular and there is only one place to fill such a craving, you rush to your favourite diner about two blocks over. You shake off your umbrella with a shiver before coming inside, it’s a near immediate relief, the diner is as warm and comforting as always.

The place is slightly rough around the edges but the food is amazing, prices are stupid cheap, it’s open all night and right between your work and the train station. You walk up to the counter and sit down on one of the stools at the bar, a waitress with black hair that has served you countless times gave you a smile and held one finger up to show she’d be with you in a minute.

You give a small nod to show you were fine with waiting and glanced over the menu briefly. You already knew what you wanted but still, you never know what might catch your fancy at the moment.

She comes over and asks, “Hiya hon. What you lookin’ for tonight?”

You push the menu aside as you ask, “Can I get an order of fries and a slice of the birthday cake special?” She doesn’t bother writing it down and tells you it’ll just be out in just a minute.

Five minutes later the takeout boxes were bagged and you slide the money and an ample tip across to the waitress who takes it gratefully. You thank her and tell her to have a good night and she tells you the same.

You walk over to the door, umbrella in hand and you hesitate, not wanting to brave the cold again so you take a moment, a deep breath before you are going to go back out and if you didn’t do that you wouldn’t have heard something that turned out to be vitally important.

Two very familiar voices. One rougher telling some story in a clearly jokey tone and the other more feminine and laughing along and asking, “Uh-huh and then what happened?”

You look over your shoulder and see that the duo you’d been getting to know and had been invading your thoughts constantly were here. They were seated in a cosy looking booth in the back corner, the place was mostly empty and their voices carried easily in the space, reaching you no problem. You smile and without thinking about it you walk over and say, “No wonder I didn’t see you this weekend, you’ve been holding up here the whole time.”

Tiffany looked up at you first, with a wide smile as she said, “Oh my God, hi!”

“Hey.” You said with a short nod to them both and Chucky asked, “What are you doing here?”

You give a small shrug and hold up the bag as you said, “Work is done for the night and I was hungry, stopped by here for a little take out.”

“Well it’s good to see you.” Tiffany said and it sounded sincere, they looked happy to see you. So happy that Chucky said, “Why don’t you sit down and join us?”

You weren’t expecting that. We're just going to come over and talk for a minute before facing the rain and going home to eat your food and sleep. You are a tad reluctant and so you say, “Oh I dunno-”

And they both press the issue, Tiffany asking sweetly, “Awe please?”

Chucky said after her, tone matching as he asked, “Yeah, please?”

A beat as you really consider it and he asks with a thumb over his shoulder to the window being pelted with rain, “Are you really in that much of a rush to get back out in that shit?”

He makes a great point.

You are off tomorrow too, Sunday is bleeding into Monday, you got nothing to do and nowhere to be so you say fuck it to yourself and say with a laugh, “Alright, alright you wore me down, I’ll sit.”

Tiffany made a small excited sound and Chucky shifted over on the booth seat so you could sit down comfortably and you slid in next to him.

They both still looked good, not quite as good as they did out at the club but still way too attractive.

You asked what they had gotten up to and they told you Friday was dinner out, Saturday was a small get together with some friends. Sunday they just stayed in and took it easy, a real lazy day, this was the first time they got out all day. The pair were having some breakfast food, nothing like eggs, bacon, toast and hash browns with fresh fruit past midnight. Once again they are showing you they have good taste.

They asked how work was this weekend and gave a brief apology for not stopping in, to which you waved off with a scoff, “Oh God it’s fine, I mean I practically live at the club but that doesn’t mean that you should.”

You appreciate the fact they apologised anyway though and you respond to their original question saying, “It was a fine weekend, busy, good money but not as good as it could have been.”

Tiffany had picked up her coffee cup and asked, “What coulda made it better?”

You were starting to unpack your take out as you said teasingly, “Obviously if my two best customers didn’t abandon me it would have gone from fine to great.”

A small chuckle from Chucky as he asked, “You miss the extra tip money that much?”

“More the interesting conversation. I can only potlietly smile and bat away the guys tryna fuck their waitress so many times before it truly becomes dull.” It wasn’t a lie, at least a couple times a night you’d get guys who would turn to you when they struck out too many times with single girls at the club.

“That a big problem for you?” He asked, adjusting in his seat, facing you better, his body language seemed a little more tense, was that concern? Was HE concerned about you?

You fight back the urge to grin at the thought, you push it down, mentally telling yourself to not get your hopes up.

“Not that bad. Nothing I can’t handle.” You look between him and Tiffany who didn’t seem fully convinced until you said, “Really, I mean it, promise!”

They both seemed to relax a touch at that and let it go, you got the sense they wanted to say more but instead Tiffany asked, “So what’d you get?”

You say, “Fries and the birthday cake special.” You pop open the containers and show them the crispy and seasoned fries and the vanilla funfetti cake with the sky blue buttercream icing, decorated further with looping swoops of bright pink on the sides and edges.

“That your usual go to?” He asked and you nodded as you picked up a fork, “Yeah, what can I say, I’m a sucker for salty and sweet together late at night. It’s not an all the time thing but it's nice to indulge every now and again right?”

“More than nice, I’d say it’s necessary.” Tiffany said and you asked, “Yeah you think so?”

“I know so, you gotta give into those urges or you’ll go crazy.” The smile she wore when she said that made that same warmth flicker in your chest and Chucky gave her a knowing look, must be some shared joke or reference. You had no idea how long they’ve been together but clearly it’s been a while for them to develop this particular brand of closeness.

“You seem to know what you are talking about. You indulge often?” You ask in a rather playful tone and Chucky nearly snorts into his coffee before saying, “More than you know.”

She flips him off with a sweet smile and he simply grins and throws her a wink in response. You look back down to your plate as you pick up a fry and you ask, “So are you both native to Chicago?”

That gets a laugh from her, “Does it sound like it?” Fair, that is on you.

He fills in the blank as he says, “We’re from Hackensack, you know, in New Jersey?”

Oh wow, decent jump, that is easily a twelve hour drive straight. You get a dumb thought and go with the urge, “Ahh that is where they invented hackie sack, right?”

He looks unimpressed as if he’s definitely heard that one before and you giggle from his expression before going on and saying, “Oh wait. No, it’s it the home of cock and ball torture! That’s right! I always get that and hackie sack confused.”

Tiffany laughed loudly at that, almost choking on her bite of toast and Chucky leaned forward, closer, slightly amused and he asked, “Okay, okay, and where are you from?”

You tell him before taking a bite of your cake, it’s as delicious as always, rich and moist and familiar, hits the spot perfectly.

He thinks for a moment, clearly trying to think of his own joke but he comes up empty and Tiffany touches his forearm as she asks sweetly, “Don’t think too hard, I know this place allows smoking but I think they mean cigarettes.”

Fuck, she was funny. You liked seeing her tease him, it was sweet, fond. You watch as he jerks his arm away telling her with the smallest amount of bite, “Don’t patronise me.”

“Stop making it so easy and sure, I’ll give up the habit.” She spears a piece of cantaloupe on her sharp nail and brings it up to her mouth and you make yourself look down at your own food again, you need to stop staring at her lips.

“So why’d you leave?” You asked.

He was dipping the end of a piece of toast into his egg yolk, you notice that he likes his eggs over easy while she prefers her scrambled with what looks like chives.

He responds, “Sometimes you just need to get away.”

She covers her mouth with her hand, not wanting to be rude as she was eating, “What about you?”

You shug and were honest as you said, “Same thing. Needed a change.”

“And what do you think?” He was pulling out his pack of cigarettes from his jacket and you asked, “What?”

Tiffany gestures that she wants one and he holds it so she can snag one as she asks, “Was it a good change?”

You smiled and said. “Yeah. Best one I think I ever made.”

“Gotta say I like it so far too.” He admitted as he held out his lighter for Tiffany to light up and she agreed with that.

The conversation continued on, a few cups of coffee and a couple of hours later the rain had stopped and you were all leaving. The three of you stepped out back onto the damp street somewhere well after three in the morning. You had gotten some coffees yourself and the pair had paid from them on their bill while you were in the bathroom and you were thanking them again for it.

“It was only a few bucks, don’t worry about it honey.” Tiffany assured and Chucky nodded, “Yeah, you can get us back next time.”

Honey. Next time. She called you honey and there was going to be a next time. You liked that thought a little too much. You play it cool and tell them you’ll remember that. It’s time for you to part ways and Chucky told you, “Have a good night, eh?”

“Yeah, get home safe!” Tiffany called out with a wave as they headed in the opposite direction and you told them, “Same for you two! Bye!”

You come away with a better understanding of them and you walk home with a big smile, trying not to hold out too much hope and remind yourself that you shouldn’t be too excited. They were just nice, just friendly, right?

You see Tiffany a few days later. She came into your work. She had gone out for dinner with some friends and thought of you and brought you her leftovers. “That isn’t weird right? My friends got this appetiser for the table and I didn’t have my share and didn’t finish my fries so it’s not like I actually took any bites out of it.”

You were already smiling as you listened to her and she continued, “I thought of you and how you might appreciate the snack.”

She thought of you. Brought food for you and you almost honestly swoon. You take out the offered box, “Thank you so much! You are so sweet. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Awe stop, it’s nothing.” She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear and you wished you could have done that for her. You tell her, “It’s not nothing and seriously, thanks.”

She left shortly after that, you ate at the bar perched on a stool and the food was still warm and tasted so good. Logan tried to get one of your fries and you smacked his hand, “Did I say you could have one?”

He shook his hand as if you had seriously hurt him, over exaggerating the pain, “Ow, no, you didn’t. Where the fuck did you get this anyway? We don’t have a kitchen here and you’ve been here the whole night.”

You picked up another fry and popped it into your mouth before saying, “Did you not see her? One of my sweet regulars came in and brought this for me.”

“Oooh who?” He asked with a big smile and you said, “You’ve probably seen her around, tall, gothy kind of look, totally stunning.”

“You mean the blonde bombshell who’s been splashing cash like crazy for you? She’s with that dude right? The one who wanted your name?”

You give a single nod, “Ding, ding, ding. Correct on all counts.”

“Well lucky you. I won’t steal anymore, you enjoy your treat.” Someone gestured for his attention and he made a move to go serve them and you told him, “Thanks, I will.”

And enjoy it thoroughly you did.

The next weekend they both come in again.

You don’t play as coyly, don’t fuck around. You are attentive, almost like you can’t stay away, you spend a lot of time with them while still not neglecting your other tables. You get them whatever they need, a few drinks, some conversation and jokes and definitely a little flirting.

You requested a song Tiffany wanted and Jackson of course played it no problem. You were bringing another round of drinks and found Chucky at their table alone. You set the cocktails down as you say, “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He said simply before taking a drag of his current cigarette and you ask, “So tell me are you a menthol man?”

That gets him to laugh on the exhale, “Oh my God-” You grin and ask, “What?”

“Hilarious, really. How long have you been waiting to use that one?” He sounded more amused than annoyed, a lazy smile on his face.

“Not that long, like maybe a week?” You respond.

“Your self restraint is somethin’ to marvel at.” He is in a really good mood tonight. But why wouldn’t he be? It’s Friday night, he’s out with her girlfriend, drinking and making merry, who wouldn’t be pleased as fucking punch?

“You flatter me with such sweet words.” You said as you decide to stop, all your other tables are good for a moment, you might have been hauling ass to make sure that could happen so you could have a small break to chat with them. You lean against the table and ask, “Where’d she get off to?”

You were sure she’d thank you for ensuring her song got played and he gestured with the drink now in his hand, “Out on the dancefloor.”

Your eyes follow his and see her out there, beautiful as ever in dark blue velvet and swaying to the music and you realise this whole time he hadn’t looked at you once when you came over. He was looking at her. Your gaze falls on his face and you see the expression, it’s clear how much he loves her.

You ache a little.

You wish for what they have. A not as quiet as you wished part of yourself wished he or she’d look at you like that.

An unexpected wave of emotion runs over you at that. You break away and excuse yourself, he seems surprised by the abruptness of your departure but lets you go all the same as he calls after you, “Alright.”

You make a beeline for the back hall.

Thankfully there is no line. You come into the bathroom and find an empty stall and you go inside.

Why are you being like this? You need to get it together. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady yourself, it sucks, this all sucks.

You click and connect with them both so well but you’ve only known them for a little over a month by this point. You need to get over it. You wipe at your eyes frustratedly, you weren’t going to let this emotional hiccup ruin your make-up when you shouldn’t even be feeling this much over practically nothing.

You give yourself another moment to straighten yourself out before leaving the stall and you practically run into Tiffany who had somehow entered the bathroom without you hearing it. You really need to stop running into her like this, you open your mouth to say that in some attempt of making a joke but her expression makes you stop.

She looked concerned.

“Are you okay, hon?” She sounded concerned too. You make sure to keep some distance between you and her as you take a step back.

You do your best to hide how you are feeling. You force a smile and say, “Yeah Tiffany, I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. You don’t look fine. You look like you were almost crying.” She took a half step closer and you took one back, a nervous laugh leaving your lips.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She was too astute and could see right through you. Lying was never your strong suit when some more serious shit was on the line, like such complex emotions.

“Really it’s nothing-” She isn’t having it.

She cuts you off. “It’s clearly not.”

She isn’t gonna let this go. You need to still get her to let it go so you say, “It doesn’t matter, I just-...I have some issues that can’t be fixed. I need to just get over them.”

A pause that is full of tension and things unsaid.

You can’t look at her. Your eyes fixed on the singular tile on the floor between your heels and hers. She says, “I think I know what it is.”

She does? “I see you looking and I look too.”

You look up and your eyes lock with hers, surrounded and lined with black and glitter. She takes another step forward and you take one back and your spine meets the pillar between two stalls. You cannot move back anymore, she steps again and is nearly pressed to you. She is taller than you but add on her choice of heels and forget about the fact you are wearing some yourself, she still beats your height easily.

You haven’t looked away, neither has she, you speak softly, can feel your heart rate picking up, “Tiffany what are you doin-”

Her hand takes yours and it stops your sentence short, what she says next is so sincere it is almost unbelievable but of course the tone is genuine, “You’re gorgeous to me.”

You have no time to respond, her head dips down and she kisses you.

Your eyes go wide, your hand squeezes hers in shock and she hums sweetly.

This is happening. You weren’t expecting this, anyone but certainly not her kissing you in your works bathroom. It wasn’t like a club bathroom isn’t used to seeing a lot of action but it just never had with you. Also she was into you?

You thought she’d been flirting a little but who knows? You weren’t about to make a move, the odds of the woman you were into also being into men and women were nearly astronomical. Being very decidedly not straight wasn’t something most people could be open publicly about. You had to be very careful and extremely sure that the object of your affection swung that way and wasn’t just overly sweet or it could spell all kinds of trouble. Clearly, luckily, she was like you in this regard, talk about striking gold.

But this wasn’t like you, getting involved with a customer, especially one who is already seeing someone but-

Fuck.

Her lips are so soft, she tastes so good and she is warm and your mind swims, so you kiss her back. It feels amazing, she feels amazing, this feels so fucking right, more than it had any right to. When was the last time you had been kissed like this? Or just kissed at all?

Leaning up on the front of your heels and your lips move against hers and she presses you harder into the unrelenting surface at your back and you enjoy every shared move of your lips and hers. You recall what she said back in the diner and you decide this is a perfect moment to just not think and instead, indulge.

It goes on for another moment that is somehow blissfully long and far, far too short.

She is the one to break the kiss with a sigh and your eyes flutter back open to see her still so close to you. God, she is beautiful and holy shit, such a good kisser.

As soon as her hand slips from yours and she takes a step back you feel guilty.

What about Chucky? What does this mean? You start to panic, your mind races and your breathing changes and she immediately takes notice, her hands cradle your face and she coos to you, “Hey, hey.”

You look into her eyes again and she tells you, “Listen to me. Don’t worry.”

The way she looks at you and says it, something about it just soothes you, against all odds it works. Your mind is calm and you stop worrying. She smiles and asks, “Okay?”

You take another deep breath and give a single nod with a soft smile, “Okay.”

You leave the bathroom hand in hand and once you finish walking down that long hallway that leads from the restrooms to the dance floor you let each other go. You focus on your other tables and you don’t say a proper goodbye, they both give you a wave on their way out the door because they see you are busy and you return it.

The club closes less than an hour after that and you are still giddy.

Jackson asked you, “Is that the same lipstick you had on earlier? I coulda sworn it was lighter.” You brushed him off as you teased him, “Duh, of course it is, maybe you are finally losing your mind?”

It works, he laughs and drops it, “Guess so.”

You can’t help it.

She likes you and fuck, you like her too.

You don’t know what this means but for now you are just going to enjoy this. You go home after closing up high on her perfume and lipstick smudged on your lips altering the lip colour you’d chosen that night. You are unable to feel the February chill, much too warm for it to seep through your coat.

You sleep insanely well that night.

You float through your day and the next night at work the pair comes in again. You serve them but you feel a little weird about seeing Chucky. You can’t quite meet his gaze and don’t hang around them as long as you normally would.

You keep some distance and they definitely notice.

Tonight you were really busy and it did give you a little bit of plausible deniability, that you were occupied with your other tables and your work. The evening flies by, they leave at some point and you didn’t see them go, you feel bad about that.

You leave the club after closing down and find that they are still there. Waiting outside sharing a smoke and Chucky says, “There she is.”

“Hey you two.” You greet before asking, “Why are you both still here?”

Tiffany says, “You were awfully busy tonight, feels like we barely saw you, thought we might walk you to the train station.”

Oh shit. You tried to think up an excuse why they couldn’t but your mind was blank. You didn’t give them as much attention that you should have tonight and to make up for it you should let them take you to the station, it’s the least you could do when they are so nice.

“Yeah sure, that’d be great. Jackson is my usual walking buddy but he had to go early.” You smile and off you all head.

You feel awkward.

It’s quiet. Just the sound of two sets of heels, yours and hers and his dress shoes on the wet sidewalk and a thought enters your head. Something you meant to ask the other night. You speak and ask them, “How did you both meet?”

They share a look and Tiffany laughs softly as does he, “Would you believe at a nightclub?”

You smile genuinely at that, “No shit.”

“Yeah, I uh was actually out for a drink and I ended up talking with this girl and her and I clicked a little and she suggested something pretty out there and I went with it.”

You question him, “Out there how?”

“A threeway.” She fills in with a grin and your mouth falls open. “You suggested a threeway?!”

She had to be kidding. Chucky said, “Oh no she didn’t. Tiffany was the other girl that me and the first girl picked up.”

Oh so he was out with someone totally different and they picked up Tiffany for a threesome? How’d they get here then?

“Yeah and fuck am I ever glad she suggested it.” Tiffany said as her shoulder playfully nudged him.

He said, “The other girl was okay but nothin’ in comparison to Tiff. We got alone and the chemistry-” His sentence stopped to take an inhale of his cigarette.

Tiffany says on an exhale, “Amazing, totally crazy.”

“Right. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her, forgot about the other chick and we’ve been together ever since.” Chucky finished the story and you?

Your heart races.

A threeway.

That was how they fucking met, they had a threeway the very first night. You made yourself ask your next question as evenly as possible, trying to keep the massive excitement out of your tone. “So you are uh, still down for that?”

You have made it to the station, it’s quiet again.

It’s late and there is almost no one else around. They share a look before looking back at you and Tiffany asks, “Are you down for that?”

Chucky dropped the last of his smoke, he exhaled, fingers ran through his long hair and stomped it out before he stepped closer as he asked, “Yeah are you?”

Did they seriously just ask you that? What should you say? You knew what you wanted to say but was it a good idea or rather a smart idea?

You can’t think too hard, they are here right now, they obviously want an answer and you want to give them one. This is what you were hoping for, what you wanted, isn’t it? Why are you hesitating so much?

You work up the nerve with another deep breath, Chucky is so close to you. Whatever cologne he is wearing is so good, it pushes you forward, you nod and swallow hard. Hand reaches up, wraps around his tie once and you say, “Yes.”

You lean up and tug on his tie at the same time and you kiss him.

#FINALLY #HERE IT IS #TTHITOW #Through The Heart Is The Only Way #BHF writing #Chucky X Reader #Slasher x reader #Tiffany X Reader #slasher x reader #Charles Lee Ray X Reader #Tiffany Ray Valentine X Reader #I worked so fucking hard on this holy shit #Poly!Chiffany X Reader

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pinkanonwrites · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! How’s your day? May I please have Lilia’s reactions to his old flame (fem, if that’s okay!) coming to work as NRC staff?

This ended up going further in an angst direction that I originally thought it would, but I felt that it fit the prompt best. I hope you still enjoy! Also, this prompt reminded me of a line from the Waitress musical.

“You remind me of a girl I once knew God, by now she's well in middle age Probably 41, 42″ “Huh, thank you?” “What? Oh my God, no, no, no, no”

TW: Not quite full-on angst, but definitely bittersweet!

There were a million different things you could have expected when you’d been accepted as a staff member for Night Raven College. At an elite school like NRC, you’d be dealing with some of Wonderland’s next political leaders, accomplished wizards, and cultural influencers to define the next generation. You had to be prepared for anything. You thought you were prepared for anything.

But you couldn’t have been prepared for Lilia Vanrouge. Not again.

“Little birdie...?” The old nickname hit you somewhere deep, somewhere fragile. Great Seven, his voice sounded exactly the same, though the tone wasn’t quite right. You had heard it a thousand times over in his sweet, playful chirp. This surprised, almost disbelieving tone didn’t suit him.

You swallowed hard, trying your best to pull the words together. “Lilia. It’s good to see you. How long has it been? Twentyish years?”

“Eighteen years and four months. But who’s counting?”

That got a giggle out of you despite your better efforts, and Lilia’s eyes lit up in an all-too-familiar glint of pride. Your classroom was thankfully devoid of other students since you hadn’t quite finished setting up, so Lilia was free to let himself in, closing the door behind him and perching himself atop one of the student desks. He was uncharacteristically silent for a long moment, before...

“You look good. More mature. It suits you, I think.”

“You look... You look the same, Lils.” You gave a soft, sad smile, your eyes still trained down on the box of desk tchotchkes and trinkets you had yet to organize. “Though I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

“It takes work to look this good for a few hundred years, you know!” He joked, but the delivery wasn’t quite there. There was an unspoken tension, a hint of melancholy in his voice. “You finally became a teacher! That’s pretty incredible, birdie. And at the best school this side of the valley.”

“It was worth the effort, really. How about yourself? Still tending to Malleus?”

“Of course. He’s here too, you know! And... I adopted a human kid, a bit after we... His name’s Silver! I think you’d like him.”

“I bet I would, if he’s anything like you.”

“Oh, he’s nothing like me! You’d like him anyway, though. He’s a good kid.”

You laughed again, and with each exchanged sentence Lilia seemed to get more and more bright, more at ease. The two of you talked for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have possibly been more than one. It surprised you how easy it was to let yourself be pulled back into Lilia Vanrouge’s orbit. Despite how much you’d changed, and how much he hadn’t, it reminded you all too well of those many years ago.

“Soooo, got anyone special in your life right now?” Straight to the point as always. But that was something you’d liked about him. “Another little birdie?”

“No, no not at the moment. I’ve been a bit too busy for the romance department.”

“A shame, really. Any man would be lucky to have you. Man... or fae.”

“Lilia.” And there it was. The elephant in the room, finally acknowledged. As he moved off of the table and began walking towards you a deep, longing pool in the pit of your stomach fought against your better instincts. Brain against heart. A battle you’d been fighting for the last eighteen years.

“Was there anything I could’ve done?” He finally asked, voice even and gentle.

“I...I don’t think so. I just... I needed to grow up, Lilia. I didn’t know who I was then, and I needed to find that out on my own.”

“And now? Do you know who you are now?”

“I... I’m not sure.”

The silence permeated the room again, somber and fragile. Lilia stood beside you at your desk, his hands resting on the wooden surface close to yours but not quite touching, not yet.

“Well, if you ever decide you need help figuring out, now you know where to find me!” He smiled at you, sharp fangs poking over his lower lip. “I did miss you, you know.”

“Lils, I’m literally your teacher now.”

“Aww, what’s a little abuse of power between old friends?”

“You’re the worst!” You giggled, covering your face with your hands so Lilia couldn’t see you laughing. As a long moment of the two of you chuckling away began to die, you finally removed your hands and spoke softly. “I missed you too. Even if it was my idea, I missed you so much.”

“Then, why can’t we...?”

“But like I said, I’m your teacher now. Even if you are a hundred years older than me, it’s still not appropriate.”

“How about five hundred years?”

“Lilia!”

“Okay! Okay! I can’t say I don’t understand. Things like that mean a lot more to humans than they do fae, after all.” He sighed softly, smile fading from his face into a more neutral, almost distant expression. “But whatever you choose, I’ll respect it.”

“...It really is good to see you again, Lilia.”

“You too, birdie. You too.”

“And maybe, maybe, when you’re not taking my literature classes any more... Maybe we can talk again.”

You couldn’t miss the way Lilia’s entire body seemed to perk up, ears twitching playfully as the smile returned to his face as a bright, satisfied beam.

“So, another two years then? Hah! That’s nothing.” Finally one of his pale hands came to rest upon your own. Though your hands looked so different than they did back then, the image was just as comforting.

“I’ll wait for you, birdie. As long as you need.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #lilia vanrouge #lilia imagines #lilia x reader #twst scenarios

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arrogantsonofabiscuit · 4 years ago

Text

Calling him your husband prank

Feat:- Kuroo, Oikawa, Sakusa & Kita

A/n:- I don’t know what should i write here lol.

General masterlist || Haikyuu masterlist

Genre:- fluff, mentions of pet names + TikTok

✮ Kuroo:-

Oh boy,

When I say he is whipped for you I ain’t lying! He is a simp for you!

Neways so you were scrolling through the addicting app tik-tok when this prank just popped up on your fyp.

You saw a girl calling her boyfriend her husband and his reaction to the term.

You thought since Kuroo is a tease maybe you could get a reaction out of him which flusters him .

You place your phone on the coffee table and cover it a bit so that only the camera is visible to you. Kuroo steps out of the bedroom and plops himself right next to you on the couch and searches for a movie to play on the flat tv screen.

You had hit the record button and were talking on the other phone and that’s when you said it.

You pretend that your friend had called you to ask you about your whereabouts and with whom you were with.

You reply “I am at my home with my husband.”

Kuroo whips his head so fast at your direction that he almost felt he may have broke it . Please don’t do this, even though y/n is cute but still no!

Kuroo looks at you amused and you could see that his tips of his ear were red and his cheek was pink.

You end the call and sit next to him, he then grabs your wrists and plants soft kiss on them saying “Rather than calling me babe, you should call me your husband.”

Now it is your time to be flustered.

✮ Oikawa:-

Yoohoo ~

Ahem anyways, you guys were on a date enjoying your meal together . After finishing up with your meal , You guys wait for the bill .

Oikawa always spoiled you , he would always give his card to you for shopping . Would buy you stuff which you just talked about or saw it in some store. Your boyfriend was talking to the waiter and asked them to bring the bill.

You were just scrolling through your Instagram reels when you saw someone do a prank in which they call their boyfriend as their husband. Your relationship with Tooru was always playful and you liked that. He was a tease for sure and he always made you flustered whenever he could. You wanted to fluster him so you decided to do this prank on him .

You hold your phone in such a way that it would look like you were taking a selfie. Oikawa starts posing as he thought you were taking his pictures , you decided to go with the flow.

The waiter arrives and places the bill on your table waiting for you guys to settle the payment. Oikawa pulls his credit card out of his wallet and gives his card to the waiter to swipe it in the machine.

As their job the waiter asks for the review about their service, food, ambience of the restaurant. You take it as an opportunity and say “ My husband and I really like coming here for dates and it’s really pretty and your services are great as well. Isn’t it my husband?” You wink at his direction .

Oikawa.exe has stopped working . He whipped his head towards the waiter and asks him while stuttering “did they just call me their husband? They did?!?” The waiter nods their head in amusement and smile looking at you guys. “Well my wife and I do enjoy coming here! Thank you for great food as always” Oikawa flashes his infamous wink towards you only to see you as flustered as he was.

“Angel, do you wanna be my wife?”

“Yes, but at a right time”

“Oh it would come soon don’t worry”

✮ Sakusa:-

You were sitting on your couch watching some tv shows which you missed because of work but you got bored easy and were now scrolling on tik-tok watching some videos.

The front door creaks open , as your grumpy boyfriend enters with a huff he takes off his shoes and masks and makes his way towards you plopping on top of you.

“What is all this?” You ask him amused by his behavior. “I missed you and the practice was quite tiring” he replies with a pout still prominent on his lips. “Let me guess your teammates kept on doing something new ? Or were they loud as always?” You ask as you stroke his hair and kiss his forehead.

“You have no clue how hard it is to handle them” you cup his cheeks gently and look at him with adoration “ Omi who are you kidding you love them irrespective of how they are” you giggle as Omi huffs and mumbles “don’t team up with them” .

“How about you take a quick shower and I would offer my cuddles and kisses Hmm?” He gets up nodding his head. You were now on the couch waiting for him to come back from his shower laughing at some tik-toks until one caught your eye.

Calling your s/o your hubby thinking aback Omi was still not used to the pranks you and Atsumu always pulled . So you decide to try this on him. As Sakusa enters the living room he plops down again on top of you nuzzling his head closer to your chest.

“My big baby do you wanna watch something or you wanna nap?” “Nap” “okay” you then place your phone on the coffee table and start recording.

“Y/n?” “Yes?” “My phone is ringing would you pick it up but if it’s them (referring to Hinata, Bokuto & Atsumu) don’t pick up”

“ Hey Tsumu how are you?” Sakusa rolls his eyes .

“Yes my husband is fast asleep what do you want?” Sakusa raises his head and hugs your waist tightly mumbling an “I love you my-soon-to-be-wife”

“DID HE SAY I LOVE YOU? HE NEVER SAYS THAT TO U-“ Sakusa cuts the call and falls asleep on you smiling as you were still flustered.

✮ Kita:-

You were on a video call with your sister talking about the daily gossips she had to share . Whereas your boyfriend was patiently waiting for you to be done with the call.

“And then they fell while stomping off *weird laughing noise*” You roll your eyes as you were used to your sister and how weird her humour was .

Kita enters the kitchen to fetch a glass of water but you were so busy on call that you did not realise that he was around.

“Anyways I gotta ask how is your husband?” You sister smirks as she asks this question.

“Oh he is great tbh we were planning to watch a movie and order take out!” You reply giddily.

“So has he planned to wife you up?” Your sister asks.

“Hello, uh yes I have decided to wife your sister up but I need to have a beautiful ring as her which would be impossible to find. But I will find a precious ring and wife your sister” Kita replies as he smiles at your sister and then you placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Y/n? Y/n? Are you okay? You aren’t responding at all” . You were shocked as you didn’t expect him to be so straightforward with his answer.

“Shin?”

“Yes darling?”

“Do you really mean it? You want to Marry me?”

“Yes Ms Kita I want to”

“Say that again” you blush

“Ms Kita”

“🥺🥺🥺”

Thank you for reading. Take care <3

Reblogs are highly appreciated <3

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klarolineashur1919 · 2 years ago

Text

Only We Matter Series

Note: Ok this one shot series probably going to be a long one this is the end of the 1919 parts, I'm going to do 1921, 1924 then 1926. Thank you

Part 5

June 16, 1919

Her smile

Luca Pov

Well she's acknowledging me now, even talking to me a little bit. The talking part I think is a miracle. I been starting to sit in the back while she works. She isn't really nervous around me anymore maybe a blush here and there. But I think that's cute, she's cute. I get her to talk to me about what she will of her family, and I tell her about the places I've been. I get her to smile, I love when she smiles. I have to go back to New York though and I don't think I want to. It's always hard leaving my family but now I'm leaving her.

"You're moping" I get out of my thoughts in Angel's direction.

"Huh?" I look at him confused.

"You're moping around, I told you she wasn't going to sleep with you" shaking his head at me.

"What are you going on about?" my accent came out as I slightly jumped up from my chair.

"You're going back to New York soon and Penelope gave to nothing to remember her by, so you're moping around" he chuckled and shrugged at me for the last part.

"Brother I'm not you" I gave a long disappointed sigh. Believe me it's not going to be hard to remember her let alone not think about her all time. I think about her all the time now. It's going to be hard not having the small moments with her that I do now.

"Yes, but you're still a man last I checked" he tilted his head at me.

"I'm not a pig and I do actually like her" my American accent kept coming out now I'm shaking my head at him.

"Well brighten up here she comes, she's late today" he was looking at her in a way I didn't like through the window.

"She called to let us know she was going to be, she said she had stuff with school and she's only an hour late anyway" she saw me through the window and smiled. She had the cutest smile with her cheeks, her lips and just her face in general. God that face was going to be the death of me. Then looked down and blushed like she usually does.

"Oh, so that's what you were doing on the phone so long" he sounded even more Italian than he usually does with the last bit of that, he was still looking at her and it wasn't her face he was looking at. He's lucky he's my brother.

"I wasn't on the phone that long" sounding agitated by him only cemented with the frown I was having towards him.

"Goodmorning Luca" God the way she says my name. We just smiled at each other as she walked by.

"Goodmorning Penelope" Angel said in also a mocking way as he said looking at me trying to not start laughing about how my face instantly had soften. I just reassuringly nodded to her as she looked in between us.

"Why were you rude to her?" My eyes followed her as she walked to the back not bothering to see his grin was gone, him almost looking scared.

"I wasn't being-" the minute I turned he shut up.

"When did my brother become a mush for girl huh?" he said trying to lighten the mood.

"The minute I saw her" I got up and headed to the back room.

There she was sitting at the table by the wall hand stitching something. The sun hits her perfectly with all the windows on the other side of the room. She always looks more beautiful in the sun. Eventually she looked up and smiled at me. I guess I was standing there for more than a minute.

"Go out with me" it wasn't a question. I was leaving in a day or two.

"What" she laughed lightly as her smile didn't fall but she raised a confused eyebrow.

"There's a restaurant actually not too far from here, we could go tomorrow when you're off at maybe nine or lunchtime" her smile fell a little and her eyes went down to her feet. Merda. I took a long inhaled and leaned against the wall.

"Luca.." she was saying my name regretfully. Merda merda merda.

"I want to but-" she was looking at me in the eye at least.

"That's all that matters isn't it, only we matter nobody else" I knelt down beside her and grabbed on to her hands. I knew it was probably her family.

"My brothers-" I knew it.

"I'll meet them" she looked down shaking her head. I just wanted one night, one day just me and her.

"You've told me about your-" she stopped as her hands grabbed my face.

"Luca please let me talk'' she looked like she was at the point of tears.

"I wasn't supposed to get close to anyone, that was the deal for me to work here. My brothers they're ambitious and there was already trouble a little bit ago with one of my brother's men and one of your father's. They settled it but I wouldn't be surprised more things happened with the territories so close together." she took a long breath out, her thumb started circled my cheek now.

"Pen what does this have to do with us like let me just talk to them, I'll court you properly everything will be fine" I put my hands on her waist pulling her closer to me and she just looked at me with the most loving eyes but as quick as I saw it she looked down again and ended up leaning her head on my shoulder.

"Luca it's not just that, I told you about my sister after her getting pregnant I feel like Arthur is looking out for me more and everyone in my family is already very protective especially about me coming here, I can't lie to them, and my loyalty is to them" with the last point she moved away from me slightly from how I brushed passed the first part of what she said.

"I can't go out with you Luca Changretta even if I want to, maybe in a couple years my brothers will be more reasonable but not now I'm sorry" she straightens up in her chair from me.

"I'm leaving in a day or two" I stand up and she follows. She says nothing and she's looking at her hands folded in front of her.

"I have to go to London first I'll probably leave tomorrow" she biting her lip looking away from me. God say something. Maybe this was one sided. I'm turning to leave now, maybe this is what Angel was trying to tell me. My ego is hurt, I suppose is what I'm feeling. I'm walking towards the door.

"Luca" I turn to her wrapping her arms around my neck. She was hugging me and I was not hugging her back. It was so innocent, she was so innocent. Angel was right I am a man.

I scoffed and her breathing stilled. I didn't mean to scoff, I didn't mean for it to sound cruel. it just came out of my disbelief of my situation. Angel was right, my brother was right. I want her. She started to break away, she was looking down again. God I don't want her to let go. I don't want it to end like this. I started to walk into her, pressing her back into the table she was working on. She was looking up at me now, blushing and eyes wide.

"Luca-" God when she says my name, I don't know what happened but next thing I knew I was kissing her. It was a chaste kiss but my lips were not leaving hers and my hands were keeping her firmly in place on her waist. Her hands were on our sides but they started slowly go up my arms. I needed to break away or I was going to do something.

So I did and we just stood there out of breath. We just were staring at each other. Pen had a indescribable look on her face. She turned around and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Penelope I'm sorry" I walked over to her. She shrugged.

"How long are you going to be gone for?" She turned around keeping a distance between us.

"Maybe a year, maybe more" she looked down and nodded. I was looking down as well. I messed up.

"You think we'll be able to call and write while you're away?" It's like we both lifted are heads up at the same time with a smile.

Her smile was going to be the death of me.

Translation

Sh*t

#luca changretta #luca changretta x shelby!sister #shelby oc #luca changretta x oc #Luca changretta x shelby!reader #Luca changretta fanfiction

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spencersawkward · 4 years ago

Note

omg I’m so excited you’re on here and taking requests!! do you think you could do something like baby Spence losing his virginity to a close friend & it’s like adorable, goofy, fluffy smut bc he cannot get over the fact that he’s actually having sex with someone

I’VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-- TURN IT UP!!!

on a serious note, i'm so glad you asked for this one bc i really wanna add a scene like this in the fic i'm working on rn. i'm v excited.

summary: when the secret of Spencer's virginity gets accidentally spilled in front of the whole team, reader goes to check on him.

word count: 5.6k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Spencer Reid

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fluff.

masterlist

hanging out with the team is easily the best part of the week. after spending days in Arizona with our focus entirely on the most recent case, my mind is practically ready to snap. I feel like I've been running on fumes, and when Penelope suggested we take the evening to hit our favorite bar, I was practically already out the door.

so now I'm sandwiched between JJ and Emily as we throw back our first shots of the night. my skin is already flushed with the elation of laughter, the pleasant thrum of conversation that surrounds us.

"that's bitter." JJ makes a face when she slams the empty glass on the table. I screw up my nose.

"why did we pick vodka?" I hate vodka.

"it gets the job done." Emily laughs. I shudder at the aftertaste that sits on my tongue.

Morgan wanders over, Pen on his arm while she totes a brightly colored pink alcohol. they're flirting as usual, but she pauses in her witticisms to grab my arm.

"we're playing truth or shot in that booth over there." she says to me, then gets the attention of the other two women. I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"truth or shot? like truth or dare but without the dare?"

"Reid, is that you?" Morgan says sarcastically. I slug him in the arm with a pout.

"be nice." but I'm giggling. he loops his arm through mine and we head back to the table, Penelope already starting a new conversation with JJ and Prentiss as they follow. Spencer is sitting in the booth with an Arnold Palmer, sipping from the straw like it's his job. I slide into the spot next to him.

"hi, you." I smile. "I haven't seen you at all tonight."

he holds up his glass. "I don't really drink."

"that's fine," I wave it off. "I just meant I wanted to hang out with you."

"oh." he smiles a little. "sorry."

"no big deal. you're here now." I shrug and turn to Pen as she calls my name.

"I'm gonna order a bottle. that okay?" she points to the bar with a mischievous smile. glancing once at Spencer and his slightly awkward position between Morgan and me, I make a snap decision.

"you know what? I think I'll just have a lemonade."

"you sure? Jayge said you spent the whole plane ride back talking about getting wasted--" Penelope's words cause a blush to spread over my face. I cut her off.

"I'm sure. thanks, Penny."

she nods. "of course, sweet cheeks."

I focus back on Reid, who is looking at me gratefully. he would never say it out loud, but I know he feels a little out-of-place sometimes. it's hard enough for him to come out with us to bars; the least I can do is be a sober friend. I open my mouth to start a conversation about an article I read the other day when Prentiss speaks.

"okay, so... who's ready?" her voice, always so certain, carries over the table. all of us make enthusiastic noises of assent, and she grins as Penelope returns with an armful of glasses. Derek gets up to grab the actual alcohol, and then when we're all settled in, the game begins.

"the rules are simple: you tell the truth, or you drink!" the tech analyst explains. the stakes for Spencer and me are lower, but that doesn't really matter. I'm excited to hear the team divulge their secrets.

"I'll start." Prentiss doesn't even hesitate before she looks at Morgan. "Derek, are you still sleeping with that one woman from sex crimes?"

Morgan raises his eyebrows at the question, irises flitting between Emily and the rim of his drink. there's a slight smirk on his face; he knows what a player he is and he's okay with flaunting it.

"Ally? no." he sighs. "things didn't end well between us."

"what? why?" I ask, eyes widening before I look around at everyone. "who is this woman?"

"cool your jets, sparky." Morgan teases me. "only one question per round."

"I'll tell you later." Prentiss raises her drink in my direction and winks.

"uh, no no." Morgan attempts to stop her, but JJ interrupts him.

"speaking of things not ending well," she says loudly. "Pen, why did you and Sam break up?"

"well," Penelope sticks her tongue between her teeth as she thinks it over with a devilish smile. her lips are a ruby red tonight, bright against her pale skin and big eyes. "to be completely honest, he just wasn't... doin' it for me. you know?"

"like--?" Emily glances down at her lap. Pen nods quickly and I snicker. JJ looks awestruck.

"I thought it was going so well."

"it was, but..." Penelope seems to genuinely think this over before she speaks. "if it's right, it just clicks. and it never clicked with Sam."

"profound." I compliment, high-fiving the high-energy blonde. we giggle before she turns to me with a glint in her eye.

"oh, do I have a plan for you," she smirks. "tell me, Y/N: if you had to sleep with one person on our team, who would it be?"

"women included?" I clarify, my cheeks suddenly on fire. how come everyone got easy questions except for me? I'm really just biding time.

"of course." she nudges my shoulder. I mull this over for a minute. I could say the truth, but I don't think that would be the right thing to do. however ironic that is. given the situation, I do something which I have never been good at and which I don't enjoy doing: I lie.

"although all of you are catches," I preface. "I think I would probably pick Emily."

Prentiss almost chokes on her own spit as her head snaps to see my face.

"me?" she asks.

"low-pressure fun." I shrug, the stress of the moment rolling off my shoulders with the ensuing laughter of my team members. Spencer takes a sip of his drink and peeks at me from his spot before I focus my attention to JJ.

we go on like this for a while, our original plan of "truth or drink" really just turning into a game of "truth and drink." as our laughter gets progressively louder, our questions and answers get progressively more provocative. we get into risky territory towards the fourth round, and I can practically feel Spencer's discomfort radiating off of him. thank god everyone has been taking it easier on him with their questions.

that is, until Morgan hits about five shots and decides to throw him to the wolves.

"so, Reid," he asks. there's no malice in his tone and I'm sure he's not meaning to embarrass the boy genius, but the question makes me wince anyways. "have we made any progress on the virginity front?"

it's like a fucking pall over the table. Reid goes rigid in his spot, and JJ's protective eyes dart between him and Morgan. Penelope's jaw drops.

"wait, Reid, you're a--?" her voice is tender, not judgmental, but Spencer's cheeks turn pink and he looks at Derek with a hurt expression.

"not cool." he says, body shifting in my direction. his eyes communicate everything; without a word, I know what he wants. I scoot out of the booth, letting him slip by me to walk outside.

truly, I'm speechless. we all stare at his lanky frame push through the door, but nobody talks until at least fifteen seconds pass.

"what the hell was that, Morgan?" JJ asks.

"I thought everyone knew--" he throws his hands up. "I swear I wouldn't have said anything if--"

"why would everyone know that?" I feel myself get angry for Spencer's sake. "that's an incredibly personal thing, especially to him."

"that wasn't you, my love." Penelope's voice is soft, sobered by the incident that just occurred. the playful air at the table is officially ruined, and we keep glancing at the doorway like Reid will come back in and everything will be fine. he doesn't.

"I'm gonna go apologize." Morgan starts to get up, seemingly beginning to realize the weight of his words. it's one thing to ask about Reid's sex life in general; it's another to point out specifically the entire absence of it. Spencer doesn't seem to be bothered by most things, but this is different. my heart hurts.

we watch Morgan go, the women all looking at each other with worried expressions.

"I feel bad." Penelope says.

"y'know, Spence never told me that." JJ observes.

"he really trusts Morgan." Prentiss says what we're all thinking. Morgan has always been like a big brother to him, and being embarrassed in front of your co-workers like that can't be a pleasant feeling.

we sit in a relative silence for about five minutes until Morgan walks back into the bar. he pulls out his wallet and pays for the drinks, then walks over to us.

"I'm gonna go for a walk. do you need me to call you all cabs?" he asks. those dramatic brows are drawn low over his face, emphasizing his regret. I look between my friends and clear my throat.

"it's okay. I only had one shot about an hour and a half ago. I can drive everyone home."

"okay," Morgan sighs, his head turning briefly to the door before focusing back on us. "drive safe, ladies."

and then he's gone.

"you guys ready?" I start to shrug my jacket on. they all nod and we get ready to go.

...

sitting in my apartment later that night, my head is swimming. even though it's none of my business what happens in Spencer's sex life, I wish I could tell him that it's okay. nobody cares at all if he's a virgin or not. but I know it's still embarrassing.

I hate that I lied earlier tonight, too. I wanted to say Spencer's name when they asked who I wanted, because I meant it. we're close, and I will always love him as a friend. but I've also always wanted more.

nobody, not even any of the other BAU women, know about my crush. I didn't want it to get in the way, or for it to come out and ruin my friendship with Reid. he doesn't like me like that, and that's fine, but what's not fine is not having him as my friend.

he was the first person I really connected with when I came here, and I feel a little protective over him, too.

once the clock hits eleven, I consider calling. he’s definitely not asleep yet. Spencer is a night owl. normally at this time he'd be curled up with a huge book, reading impossibly fast.

when he picks up on the third ring, the air leaves my lungs.

"Y/N?" he asks, more surprised than anything else.

"hey, Spence--" I hesitate, suddenly not sure what to say. sorry Morgan told everyone you're a fucking virgin? “do you wanna come over?"

maybe if I see him face-to-face, I'll be able to collect my thoughts better. the words hang in the air, festering over the line until I'm just about to take them back, before he replies.

"y-yeah. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

my hands are shaking at my side when I open the door for the tall genius. he's still wearing his outfit from earlier, hair slicked back like normal. I've settled for my usual sweatpants and t-shirt winning combo. it's not like he cares.

"hey." I smile, trying to read his micro expressions. there are two possible outcomes here, knowing him: either he's going to be totally, completely over it, or he'll be able to write a War-and-Peace-length book on why he's upset.

"hi." he gives a wan smile and I let him into my apartment, closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch.

"I missed this place." he says absently, looking around at the mess of decor and case files. I snort as I recall the last time he was here. he wanted to borrow a book that I had, and we ended up watching an entire docu-series about homing pigeons. it was surprisingly interesting; mostly because his commentary is both informative and funny.

"it missed you." I anthropomorphize my living space, but the phrase hangs heavy. I'm worried about him. I'm always worried about Spencer. he turns to look at me, opening his mouth to say something. I brush past him and walk into the kitchen. "coffee?"

"sure." he follows me like a lost puppy, leaning against the counter while I pull out two mugs and get to work.

"hey," I pause for a moment to look him in the eyes. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry-- about what happened... tonight."

"oh, that?" he scoffs, waves it off unconvincingly. "it's fine."

I raise my brows the slightest bit, never breaking eye contact. he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to talk about it. he cracks easily.

"it's just embarrassing, you know?" he says, staring out my kitchen window to alleviate his own nerves. I gesture for him to follow me back into the living room and I sit down criss-cross applesauce on the couch. he mirrors me, kicking off those cute black Converse.

"I don't think the fact itself is embarrassing, but I totally get why it feels that way. he shouldn't have said anything." I nod.

"like, that's personal. a-and--" he hesitates a moment, gesticulating wildly now. "and it's not like he's got any right! at least I don't go around with so many girls that I forget their names."

the thought of Reid sleeping with that many women is a little bit funny, but it also makes my stomach twist with jealousy.

"did he apologize?"

"yeah, he did. and he was drunk, I know." he rolls his eyes. "I'm overreacting."

"no, really, you're not." without thinking, I scoot closer to him and place my hand over his, which is sitting on his knee. I remember that Spencer is usually pretty averse to touch, but when I move it back to my lap, he seems a little disappointed. I wonder if he gets lonely.

"is it weird?" the question sounds raw, like he's mustering a lot to hear my response. I shake my head immediately.

"well, for one, Spence, I would never judge anyone based on their sex life, period." I chuckle. "and two, no way! if you aren't into having sex at this point in your life-- or ever-- that's totally your choice and you're entitled to it."

his eyes meet mine, pools of honeyed hazel that swim with a slightly amber shade. his face is so pretty, it's sometimes unbelievable to me that he doesn't get more action. bone structure that would make a sculpture envious.

"that's the thing," he licks his lips nervously before averting his gaze again. "I am interested-- I just don't-- well, I don't--"

"don't have someone to do it with?" I suggest with a slight smile. he nods, then clarifies.

"girls don't really seem to be interested in me."

I let out a laugh, unable to contain myself. his head jerks up to frown in confusion. I’m quick to amend myself.

"Spence, that's not true at all. you're such a catch! you're sweet and funny and way smarter than anyone I know. not to mention that you're adorable." I compliment, letting some of the thoughts I've been keeping to myself bubble to the surface. "any girl would be beyond lucky to be with you, sexually or not." Spencer blushes at my words, but the squirming in his spot tells me that it makes him feel warm inside. he smiles a little.

"you think?" it's genuine. he appreciates being praised, and it makes my heart flutter when he gives me that expression like I've made his night.

"I know." more of what I want to say rolls around my mind, unsure of whether or not I should admit it. but I think that right now, it'll only serve to make him feel better. "actually, I should tell you something."

"what?" he's curious now.

"when we were at the bar and Penelope asked who I'd be with... on the team... I lied."

"okay." he nods, somehow not connecting the dots. I guess it doesn't matter if they've got enormous IQs; boys are still clueless.

"I was gonna say you." the truth presses from the inside out, lifting a weight off my chest now that it's out there. even if he doesn't return that feeling, I'm suddenly glad that I told him.

"me?" he gestures to his narrow chest. I nod.

"yeah. I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable or embarrass you in front of our friends." I explain. he breaks into a grin.

"thanks." like I've given him something. I feel myself smiling as well, and then we're just looking at each other. tension that neither of us is willing to break. as much as I'd like to take him right here right now, he hasn't said anything about actually having sex or even about being attracted to me. for all I know, he could be completely indifferent.

"listen, Spence--"

"would you be willing to--" we speak at the same time, both of us stopping and laughing awkwardly.

"sorry, you go first." I offer, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"would you want to... um..." he scratches the back of his neck before his eyes meet mine. "try it?"

"sex?" I raise my eyebrows. he nods. I try to find the right response. that’s more assertive than I expected. my pulse is fast, daring me to tell the truth. "I mean-- yes, I would love to-- but are you sure you want it to be with me, Spence? what about a girl that you like?"

"you are a girl that I like." he says this like it's matter-of-fact, like it's obvious. my heart stops in my chest before it starts to hammer.

"really?" a smile makes its way onto my face.

"I thought you knew."

"no." I laugh. my chest is full of sunlight.

"well, you are."

there's a brief silence where I try to get myself back on track. he likes me, too.

"are you sure you want to do this?" I glance at the space between our bodies, which has grown steadily smaller over the course of our conversation. Spencer is watching my every move with an intensity that tells me he's nervous.

"yes." he's unwavering.

"okay, well, you've kissed girls, right?" I inch closer. he nods.

"one."

"oh, Spencer," I sigh contentedly. "I have so much to teach you."

right after I say this, Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. it's only then that I notice his hand covering his lap, the erection that's forming beneath his pants. my eyes flick up to his hungrily.

"sorry." he apologizes.

"don't be." our faces are inches apart and he's practically holding his breath. "I'm gonna kiss you. is that okay?"

"yes." he replies immediately. I place my hands gently on the side of his face, admiring the softness and sharpness of his jaw when I pull him to me, kissing him with a suppressed desire. his mouth is soft against mine, a little anxious to move. after a moment, he starts to relax.

his lips part and I deepen our contact, tilting my head and keeping it mostly mild at first. I don't want to shove my tongue down his throat. our knees are touching and his hand hesitantly finds my waist, the other going to run through my hair. I sigh into him, his fingertips a new sensation that I adore.

Spencer begins to give in a bit more to himself, asserting himself in the kiss and slipping his tongue over my bottom lip. I almost laugh at how quickly he gets the hang of it. he reads my body language effortlessly, not even skipping a beat when I climb into his lap and lace my arms around his neck.

"is this okay?" I pull away momentarily. he nods.

"you're so pretty." an unrelated response, but appreciated nonetheless. I laugh and peck his nose.

"thanks." and then we're back to making out, his hands resting on the small of my back. it's nice. I could stay like this forever, just pressed against Spencer while my fingers thread through his soft hair. he's cautious with me, and it's innocent.

I can feel his boner, can feel from the eagerness of his kisses that he's trying not to bring up the fact that he's literally just throbbing in his pants right now. in order to give him a little of what he wants, I start to rock my hips against his.

Spencer whimpers into my mouth. I stop and look down at him.

"do you want me to stop?"

"no, god, no— never stop." he's mindless in his reply, already grabbing my hips greedily and trying to regain that friction. I shake my head with a chuckle, then resume my actions. he starts to rut up against me, groaning into our embrace while his hands get more adventurous.

I withdraw, breaking the kiss to straighten up. he doesn't stop the microscopic pushes of his hips. I bite back a smile, enjoying the friction, too.

"do you wanna take my clothes off, Spence?" I ask softly.

"y-yes." he replies, gingerly taking the hem of my top and beginning to lift it over my head. when he places it on the couch beside me, his eyes immediately fall to my bra. slender fingers run up my bare waist, his watch glinting in the candlelight. when he doesn't immediately reach to unclasp my bra, I grab his wrist and guide it to the clasps myself. he moves with a surprising ease, unsnapping the thing and grazing over my skin as he slides the straps down my shoulders. I can tell that he’s shaking a tad, but it doesn’t hinder him.

the second that he's discarded the lingerie, he looks up at me with moony eyes.

"can I... kiss you?" he looks at my bare chest. "here?"

"of course, Spence." I nod. he presses his lips to the space between my ribs, drags them up to the valley between my breasts. lingers, then attaches himself to one of my nipples. I sigh, throwing my head back at the way he moves intuitively, sucking and running his tongue over the peak. he squeezes the other breast, plays with the nipple and starts to acquaint himself with the curves of my body.

the whole time, he's straining against my core, rutting helplessly in pleasure. it feels heavenly, with that sweet face of his so devoted to making me feel good, that I nearly stray from the purpose of the experience.

"Spencer..." I breathe. he moans at the sound of his name, then looks up at me from his place sucking on my tits. his teeth graze of my skin and I buck into his lap, causing him to groan appreciatively. my fingers tangle in his soft hair.

"Y/N," he pulls away from my chest, his lips making a soft popping sound. I gaze down at him, a bit lost in the fantasies running through my head. he's a natural. "can we, um-- like, expedite this process a little?"

"expedite the process?” I repeat back to him, giggling at his formality.

"what?" his voice goes up an octave, but he's smiling. "you know what I mean."

"I really do." I lean down, pressing my thumb into his jaw and angling his face up to mine to kiss. while his hands curiously move over my body, I start to push down the waistband of my sweatpants. I break contact just for a moment to peel them off, and he releases a quiet whine. it's cute.

"come back." he says softly, watching as I slide the bottoms down my legs, leaving me in my panties.

"I'm back." I peck his cheek, climb into his lap again. "can we take off your clothes, too?"

"mhmm." he nods. his lips part when my fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a torturous slowness. I can feel his eyes on my face the whole time.

"what?" I chuckle, peeking up at him for a moment before I pull his shirt open and run my palms up his chest, over his shoulders. he nearly shudders at the sheer touch.

"I just can't believe this is actually happening." he smiles in that way of his, like he's suppressing the depth of his emotions, with his brows slightly raised. I take the opportunity to enjoy the sight of him before me, his rapidly rising and falling chest, the smoothness of his skin.

"honestly?" I start to unbutton his pants, and he jerks up into my hand, blushing once he realizes the earnestness of his actions. I smirk encouragingly. "me, neither."

before I pull down his boxers, my eyes flick to his. "is this still okay?"

"Y/N," he groans. "if you don't do something, I'm gonna cum too early." he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment when my hand moves over his clothed erection, like he's holding on. "please."

"sorry." I release him from the confines. it hits his stomach and he waits for my reaction, as if he's afraid that I'll change my mind right now. but I'm definitely not going to. "holy fuck, Spencer."

"what?" he panics slightly, sitting up more. "is it not enough?"

"not enou--" I stutter, almost laugh. "no, it's plenty. I had no idea..."

"oh." he hides the pleased smile on his face, blush spreading over his pretty throat. in the interest of "expediting the process," I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and gently pump him.

Spencer's stomach tenses and he grabs onto the cushion of the couch with a tight fist, sighing.

"mmm..." he doesn't try to word his emotions, but I know. and I like that I'm making him feel this way, sharing this experience. Spencer and I are such close friends, I never thought we'd actually have sex. my assumption was that I'd watch him grow into himself, find a nice girl and treat her like a queen.

but here I am, spitting into my hand before jerking him off to prepare for what’s next. he’s throbbing, sounds coming from his throat.

"I'm gonna sit on it, okay?" I lean down to whisper in his ear. he touches my waist, my neck, kisses a random spot on my chest in the waves of pleasure that I'm giving him.

"o-okay." he mumbles, waiting for me to actually do it. and there's a moment of tense anticipation between both of us, when I sit up and pull my panties to the side. Spencer watches like I'm the only thing in the world, saving the memory of my body on top of his for later.

I run the head of his cock along my entrance, soaking him in the wetness between my thighs. I didn't realize how turned on I'd already gotten, and he lets out a quiet whine when he feels the evidence of how much I want him.

our eyes lock when I sink down. it's a new feeling for him, and the shape of his member as it stretches my walls causes me to bite my lip to withhold moaning too loudly. he whimpers, neck tensing and fingertips digging into my hips.

"o-oh." he sucks in a breath as I reach the halfway point. he's so big, I have to go slow in order not to overwhelm myself. but it feels good, too. like... unbelievably good. I grip onto his shoulders and my head falls forward into his shoulder.

"Spencer, holy shit." I moan.

"does it feel nice?" he asks, concerned for my own pleasure. I feel my chest flutter at the thoughtfulness of the boy wonder even when he's in the midst of losing his virginity, and I lower myself onto the rest of him.

"mhmm," I rest for a moment. "how do you feel?"

"like--" his breath hitches when I begin to rock back and forth on him. "like I've been missing out."

I can't help the giggle that slips past my lips, but then it quickly turns into a longing moan when he starts to thrust up into me like a helpless thing. Spencer is brilliant, but his brain cells go out the window when he throws his head back and begs me to move more.

I nod, raising and lowering myself until we reach a special pace. it's not fast or slow, just the two of us trying to stay in the moment while we hold on tightly to each other. I can feel the cool metal of his watch when he splays his hand out over my spine, the warmth of his breath while he pants against my shoulder.

he hits my g-spot over and over. my moans are torn from my throat by the burning of my lungs. it's like I can't breathe because I'm so focused on chasing the orgasm building in my stomach. and Spencer... I can tell he's almost finished.

the erratic nature of his jerking body tells me.

"I'm gonna cum..." he moans into my neck. "do- do you want me to pull out?"

"no." I arch my back and throw myself into the friction of our bodies. he stares up at me while I ride him, the merciless grinding of my hips because I just can't help myself. "oh my god, Spencer."

he notices how close I am and, in a surprisingly deft move, slides two fingers over my pussy to find my clit. the ensuing noise from me tells him that he's found it, and he begins to rub in quick circles. it's rough and hard, but that's exactly what I need right now.

"cum for me, Spence." I breathe. his free hand grips onto my thigh and pulls me over him, his own words unintelligible within the sounds of absolute pleasure.

"please." he begs for something I don't know, spills his seed inside of my pussy and holds onto me like I'm an anchor to this world while he peers into the next. the feeling of him spreading through my stomach, along with the reckless movements of his limbs and the way he looks at me while he rides out his orgasm, sends me over the edge.

"oh my fuck!" I collapse, grabbing his shoulders tightly and rolling myself down while he removes his fingers from my body. it's jarring, the intensity, like my normal functions can't respond correctly. all I can process is the tightening of my stomach, the pleasure between my legs, vision going slightly fuzzy at the edges. he moans when my cunt flutters around him, the muscles trying desperately to hold him here with me forever. I take deep breaths and slow down, my forehead dropping again while I start to remember my own name.

neither of us speaks. I think I'm still too in shock about what just happened, but in the best way. he keeps running his hands over my skin, then wraps his arms around my torso so that I'm pulled against his chest. I smile, kissing his ear before I finally break the silence.

"hi."

"hi." he's got a satisfied tone.

"do you need anything? water?" I ask, exhausted but realizing that this is still new for Spencer and it's my job to make sure he's as comfortable as possible. he nuzzles his nose into my clavicle and squeezes me tighter.

"stay here with me." there's a slight edge to his words. he's afraid of me leaving. I snuggle down, perfectly happy to remain. heat radiates from his skin, and I like the way it feels.

"of course."

we linger in each other’s arms, both of us coming back into the real world and holding on in an attempt to soften the blow. I just had sex with Spencer.

"thank you." he whispers into my hair.

"for what?" the smile on my face is lazy.

"for doing this."

"well, I really wanted to." I laugh. "so, I guess, thank you, too."

"you're quite welcome." his response is cheerful and then we're both laughing, the sound rumbling from his chest. "can we do it again at some point?"

"I would be happy to." I beam. the contented sigh that leaves his lips, followed by a slight sinking of our bodies down the couch in collective exhaustion, fills me with a joy that's quiet but obvious.

“I’ll last longer next time, I promise.” he says. I can practically hear the blush in his cheeks.

“you did amazing, Spence. don’t worry about it.” I press a few stray kisses to him.

I'll need to go clean up, soon, but it can wait a few more minutes. this is my favorite place on earth.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #virgin spencer #reader x spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid one shot #baby spencer reid

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misskatebishop · 4 years ago

Text

Having some fun

Word count: 1191

Pairing: Sylvie/Fem!Reader

Warning: smut, vaginal fingering, +18

Summary: A customer flirts with Reader and things escalate quickly.

A/N: It's in first person because I wanted to try something. Also, this is literally my first character/reader fic. Anyway, enjoy it!

It was almost time to close when she got here, and since she puts her feet into here I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She came to the counter and asked for a Margarita. I looked at the clock on the wall as some of the customers started to leave. 15 minutes until I had to close, so I walked to the door and turned around the signal that said ‘closed’. Then, I walked back to start preparing her drink.

When I’m done, I slide it to her over the counter, her blue-green eyes glued to the soccer game on TV and she rests her chin on her hand. By the corner of my eyes, I see when another customer pays for his drink and leaves.

The blonde short-haired woman mutters a ‘thank you’ when she sips. Wow, she’s so pretty, I think, unable to hold the sighing that escapes my lips.

“Hey, Y/N. You can handle it?” Fred, the cashier asks me, nodding at the pretty woman in front of me.

I run a hand through my ponytail.

“Sure. You’re free to go, if you want to,” I wave a hand in his direction, shrugging. I get a cloth to clean the counter because I have to leave everything clean for Saturday night. I’m only starting because I still have to clean the floor and the tables.

I sigh sadly when I think about everything I still have to clean.

“Tough night?” I look back at the blonde, bringing the straw to her pink lips. She looks at the badge on my shirt. “Y/N?”

I stare at her until I realize that I actually have to give her an answer, though I couldn’t find the words. I feel my cheeks get warm.

“Uh, Friday night,” I say, attempting to smile. “It’s generally crowded here,” she sips her drink. “What about you?”

She frowns, her nose twitching beautifully in a funny face.

“Boring day. Not worth telling,” she tsked. “Why don’t you serve yourself something?” I blink at the unexpected invitation. “It’s on me.”

I nod as I prepare two Margaritae.

“What’s your name?” I blurt out, feeling her eyes on my back when I turned around.

“Sylvie.”

“Sylvie,” I repeat. “What brought you here tonight?” The blonde gives me a lopsided smirk.

“I just wanted a drink, but I think I got more than I expected,” she winces.

I slid another Margarita at her.

“Yeah?” I hum. “It seems you have a thing for Margarita,” I snorted.

“I have a thing for pretty girls making Margarita.”

“Oh,” I fluster, taking a sip for my drink.

Sylvie watches me, her pink lips sipping from the straw. I wonder what she might be thinking about me if she thinks I’m cute or anything. I certainly should not be hitting on a customer at this hour. I should be cleaning the rest of the tables and going home before I miss the train. But Sylvie… The sight of her awakes something in me.

“So, what are your plans for tonight?” I ask warily.

“Same as yours,” she raises a brow, a sign for me to continue.

“Really? Cuz mine is to clean this place and head home,” I chuckle.

“D’you live really nearby?”

“I sure don’t,” I reply while taking her empty glass to place in the sink. Sylvie scowls.

“No fun?” I raise my head to look at her.

Then, Sylvie is leaning over the counter, fisting my button-up shirt and pulling me close to her face. I stutter when she gets so close to me, Sylvie tilts her head, her blue-green eyes fix on my lips and I couldn’t help but seal our lips together.

Everything seems to happen quickly, and when Sylvie breaks the kiss, she comes around the counter, pressing her body against mine, kissing me again, and unbuttoning my shirt. She rests a hand on my boob, squeezing and stroking it, which made me moan. Well, at least, we are alone here, I think.

My hands grip Sylvie’s waist firmly, keeping our bodies together as she naughtily peppers kisses on my neck. I tilt my head in order to expose more and feel those soft lips on my skin. I lean on to bite her earlobe gently and I feel her hand rub on my tummy, and have her fingers unbuckling my belt.

I gasp when her cold hand touches my clit, but when she starts to play with it and rub her fingers down my folds, it feels so fucking good. I arch against her touch. Sylvie giggles.

“Oh, you like it,” I’m not sure if it’s a question or not, I just nod my head in agreement to whatever she’s saying.

“Please, don’t stop,” I mutter. She slips a finger down my folds, nudging at my entrance. “Fuck, Sylvie,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut, eager for some friction, but my impatience only serves to amuse her.

“You’re so wet, sweetie. C’mon here,” she pressed her thigh between my legs, spreading me open and helpless. “I’ll give ya a treat.”

I can’t help the grasp on her waist when she pushes in a finger inside my wet pussy, nor I can’t help the moans and groans that leave my lips when she thrusts in and out at a slow pace. Almost punishable, as if she wants me to beg her before she adds another finger, sliding in and out of my pussy easily due to the wetness. I pulled her into another kiss, panting at the feeling of her fingers curling inside of me.

She chuckles.

“Oh God, Sylvie, more!” I somehow manage to get the words out, though I’m lost at the pleasure. Completely at her mercy.

Another gush of slick comes dripping from me, and the obscene wet sounds of her fingers pounding in my pussy can be heard. I shove my tongue inside her mouth, tasting the Margaritas in it, and biting her lower lip. My hips stutter when her fingers slam straightforwardly in my sweet spot. I roll my eyes when she flicks her thumb over my clit.

It’s overwhelming. I shiver under her touch at the over sensation. The heat spreads at the bottom of my tummy, and my thighs squeeze her leg as the orgasm hits me.

My legs tremble, and Sylvie pulls her fingers out of me. I didn’t even realize I placed my hands on her shoulders, I blinked several times as reality came to focus. Sylvie’s lopsided smile is too adorable. I feel lightheaded as if all the tension on my shoulders had gone away, a smirk tugs the corner of my lips.

“Having fun?” she asks, raising a brow. She brings her slick fingers into her mouth.

“Very much, but I should--” I started to say, but a camera catches my attention, and fuck. I forgot. “Holy shit, the cameras!” Sylvie follows my gaze.

“I deal with it,” she says. “Tech is my thing.” She leans down the counter, doing something I can’t quite--

She turns around and sticks a napkin in my bra before gently tapping on it.

“Call me,” she winks.

#sylvie/reader #sylvie laufeydottir/reader #loki #loki series #smut #sylvie/reader smut #reader insert #fem!reader #fanfic #sylvie x reader #sylvie laufeydottir x reader

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teeztheflag · 4 years ago

Text

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Mafia!Ateez reaction to their child telling them that a member is flirting with you

trigger warnings ⚠️ mafia themes, flirting, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, murder, alcohol, sexual harassment (slight)

general taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires @purplelady85 @smallfrye

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k i m h o n g j o o n g

„Where’s mommy?“ Your little son ran up to Hong Joong to be picked up by the mafia leader.

His eyes wander over the crowd at the garden gathering and when he’s not spotting you he flashes a little smile at his son.

„Mommy is talking to a man.“

Hong Joong nudges the little boy to whereas he points into a direction. Following the path around the house he sees you talking to none other than Kang Yeo Sang. His rival.

When Yeo Sang places his palm on your cheek you take a step back and frown at the boy. Hearing a cough behind you a smile escapes your form. The rival on the other hand rolls with his eyes and lets out a huff.

You’re quick to stand next to your husband and take your son into your arms leaving the two mafia leaders behind.

„You’re getting on my nerves, Kang.“

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p a r k s e o n g h w a

„(y/n)...“

You stood stiff in Seong Hwa‘s lavish office. Your gaze trained to the ground and your heart sinking to the bottom when he neared your form. He placed his cold fingers under your chin to raise your head. Locking his eyes with you a sigh escapes him.

„You know you belong to me. Why are you still resisting?“

„I don’t know what you are talking about.“

Seong Hwa engulfs you into his embrace leaning your head on his shoulder.

„Even our princess doesn’t like you betraying me. I will make sure you are not seeing him again.“

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j e o n g y u n h o

„And what did he say after that?“

Yun Ho caressed his daughters soft hair while she sat on his lap in their livingroom.

„That he will hurt her. I don’t remember so much... He was really scary daddy!“

With big glossy eyes Yun Ho feels his heart shattering. His daughter being so afraid for his light of the world.

He wouldn’t let Choi San get away with this.

After bringing his angel to bed he visits your shared bedroom to see you being asleep. You’re stirring and he can only guess that your nightmares are back.

With a gun and a sharp knife hidden in his suit he drives fast through the night. His team is already ready to blow up the place.

And with the final hit Yun Ho grabs the ex lover of his wife by his collar.

„I told you to stay away from us. That she is not your business anymore. What were you thinking?“

San struggles in his grip but manages to bring out his probably last words. „Kill me, but, live with the knowledge that she will never love you.“

He dropped to the ground and Yun Ho grasps his shaking hands together rage filling his body.

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k a n g y e o s a n g

When your son repeatedly told Yeo Sang that he really liked the guy that was around you since a few weeks he was relieved. It was good Woo Young seemed to do his job right. After the last attack he wanted the both of you safe all the time. That’s why he send one of his best men that he trusted with all of his might.

It was only when he tucked him into bed that he stopped in his tracks being deep in thoughts. He goes downstairs and pours himself a glass of wine. He jolts a little bit when you embrace him from behind and he turns around to eye you with a sharp gaze. Tilting his head you step back and flash him a small smile.

„What’s up?“

„Woo Young‘s taking good care of you, right?“

You frown and immediately know by the tone he uses that something‘s not to his liking, and, Kang Yeo Sang not liking something was bad.

„He is, he is doing a good job. I guess.“

„Hyun Jin likes him, too. But you know what he just told me?“

You absentmindedly reach out to him to probably cool down his anger.

„He told me that uncle Woo Young was really close to you. Close like ‚daddy‘, when I asked him what he meant with that.”

“Yeo Sang, he’s not. He is just friendly. Hugging me as a greeting nothing more.“

„You think our three year old son is lying to me? (y/n), I warn you, I know him. Don’t take his flirting attempts light hearted.“

You nod at him knowing he wouldn’t take any arguing.

„If you can’t stop him I will give him a different job.“ With a last sip he finishes his glass and roughly pulls you into him to place a delicate and territorial kiss on your forehead.

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c h o i s a n

„Dad, I don’t know how to say this but... I am really worried for your marriage. I mean is everything fine?“

San takes his cup of coffee sitting down on the breakfast table in front of your fourteen year-old daughter. He really needed a moment to register So Ra‘s words.

„What? Of course everything‘s fine! Or what are you even talking about?“

So Ra‘s gaze is trained on the buttered toast in front of her a deep frown taking place on her forehead.

„Yesterday at the gala... and I don’t know if I am mistaking things, but, I feel like she was flirting with this CEO named Song.“

San‘s eyes widened and he quickly takes a another sip from his coffee. „Oh, ehm, believe me your mother has always had her effect on...men.“

„Yeah, but, dad - the guy was literally stripping her naked with his eyes - “

„Choi So Ra! Your words!“ So Ra gestures a sorry with her hands but she didn’t want her mother to be so close to other men. She loved her parents dearly and she wanted to have a marriage like them in the future.

„Really, anyways, don’t worry. Everything‘s perfect. If there’s a problem we would never lie to you, promise!“ He holds his pinky for So Ra and with a relieved sigh she links it like she and her dad always did.

„Good morning!“ You place a kiss on your daughter‘s cheek and send a smirk to San being proud you got the right information last night.

San looks at his two princesses and has to hold back a laugh. If their daughter only knew their jobs things would be more dangerous but in many ways easier, too.

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s o n g m i n g i

„What means ‚sexy‘?“

You nearly caugh at your son‘s words quickly drinking something. Min Gi also nearly doubles over laughing while typing away a text for his members for their mission.

„Dong In! I thought we talked about this already.“

Your son was a persistent person eyeing you suspiciously.

Min Gi places his device on the table continuing to eat the soup for their shared dinner. „It means beautiful, but, it’s not a really polite word, Dong In.“

„Ah, so Mr. Kim is not polite to you Mum?“ That indeed catches your husband‘s attention.

„What is he talking about, (y/n)?“ A sly smile leaves him.

You groan out knowing sooner or later your son would’ve told him. „Well, Dong In‘s teacher just seems to need a talk with me about our son occasionally. And today he told me that he thinks I am ‚beautiful‘. Right, Dong In?“ Your son wasn’t paying attention anymore but with a naive sigh he slurped the rest of his soup.

„He said mommy‘s a sexy thing.“

„Dong In!“ Min Gi slowly sits back flexing his arm‘s muscles. He eyes you with a hungry gaze while he nudges Dong In.

„Next time Mr. Kim is telling your mother that she’s beautiful you say that your dad thinks so, too. Alright buddy?“ Min Gi fist bumps with your son.

„Got it!“

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j u n g w o o y o u n g

Woo Young wasn’t really a jelous man. He knew his worth and he also tend to be proud of the woman at his sight. Your auro caught the gazes of many men and that only boosted the mafia‘s ego.

When a man was flirting with you it was for you to play by the game. Being raised into the mafia business yourself you knew how to handle those greedy bastards.

Woo Young only smirked in the back of a booth when someone sneaked into the seat next to you at the bar. His men ready at any given chance to beat up the poor soul that tried to take what was Jung‘s.

But - he also loved your sneaky site.

It was only a button that you pushed too far when your daughter went up to his daddy to cry about how you were not giving her enough attention at the big gathering. Like the father himself their princess needed the recognition from her beloved ones.

Woo Young‘s gaze darkened when he saw you being corned by the one and only mafia leader of the west - Choi Jong Ho.

„That b - “

„Daddy! You didn’t want to swear! Mommy told you not to swear!“

„Ahhh, you’re right darling.“ He turned around to give his daughter into Seong Hwa‘s arms - one of his members.

With confident steps he emerges your form at the end of the room where Jong Ho was busy playing with your hair while talking about his latest wins in the business.

„Choi. Would you mind keeping your hands to yourself?“ Woo Young was raging by now. You didn’t stop the rival from touching you and the naive smile you send to your lover only angered him more.

„Let’s ask the lady what she wants.“ Jong Ho wiggles his eyebrows at Woo Young and you mentally facepalmed knowing Mr. Jung would scream bloody murder in a few seconds.

„I am sorry Mr. Choi.“ You gracefully step into Woo Young‘s arms giving him the satisfaction of winning this little debate with his rival. Jong Ho laughs out loud and turns around to leave the two of you.

„If you want attention ask for it. Don’t make me mad, baby.“

You lock eyes with him putting on a pout. „This way it is much more fun!“

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c h o i j o n g h o

It was the final day your son got introduced to the mafia world. A big party was held for him after he was prepared for everything over months. It was also his 16th birthday party and you had tears in your eyes knowing he was growing into a man so quickly really assembling his father in many ways.

It has been Park Seong Hwa‘s presence that put you off. He was an acquaintance of your clan for a long time but you didn’t really like the guy. When he approached you after dinner, when you were ushering your son to dance with a girl on the dancefloor, you immediately knew he was going to get on your nerves again.

He made jokes, touched you and clearly invaded your personal space. For the sake of your peaceful agreement you played his game hoping someone would come to help you out of your misery.

„Dad, I will literally kick this guy‘s balls if - “

„I already know about it.“ Jong Ho‘s gaze is fixed on your figure across the room. He turns to his son and tells him to have fun. He would take care of the matter.

Jong Ho soundlessly leans into your side leading Seong Hwa to roll with his eyes. He places a meaningful and strong kiss on your trembling lips catching your weight with his arms to steady you.

Playfully he turns around to the mafia a smile adoring his features. „Mr. Park. I didn’t even see you there!“ You’re quick to leave the duo to get to the toilet knowing by the squeeze Jong Ho just gave you a few seconds ago.

„Still so possessive I see. Let us leave this by complimenting you on your still beautiful wife.“ He let’s out a giggle while eying the crowd.

„Thank you, Seong Hwa. Seems to be running in my family.“

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↺ back to navi

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#ateez mafia #ateez reaction #ateez mafia au #ateez reactions #ateez au #ateez writing #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader

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flamingo-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Ch. 2: Things That We Remember [TASM!Peter Parker x Reader]

Keep You On My Side, Chapter 2: Things That We Remember

Andrew Garfield!Peter Parker x [Female] Reader

[Previous] [Next]

A/N: I swear to god, I am projecting myself way too much in this fic, I'm sorry hvunuifsd I also included characters from the different spiderman comics ;) and a few OC's of my own.

Summary: Peter comes to a realization that cleared his mind, as he found himself orbiting your general direction unconsciously. Weird feelings start to grow inside him, as well as recognizing his own loneliness due to his line of work. You on the other hand have mixed feelings, liking Peter sharp mindedness, and at the same time knowing that same sharp mind of his might be a threat to your secret.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment, misogynistic behavior, vandalism and bullying. Nothing too descriptive. Throughout the entirety of the fanfic there's gonna be a ever present theme of abuse of power as well as punk ideologies.

Word Count: 7.6K

As Peter’s mind kept circling over and over Lauren’s text, his mind was still digesting her last text. ’ Loonie liked you ’. Something about her words was making his stomach twist and tickle in funny ways; he’d forgotten how it felt to be into someone.

‘ She did? ’ He typed without being able to think of anything else. As he stared at the blinking cursor waiting for his next word. He chuckled awkwardly feeling too self aware in the matter. He asked himself why was he behaving like a teenager with a crush on the most popular girl. It was lame, or so he thought.

“C’mon, Peter. It’s not that hard,” He told himself.

‘ She didn't seem too convinced ’ He typed next not too satisfied with his own reply but clicked the send button anyways.

‘ She liked you. Otherwise you wouldn't have lasted with us at the table. ’ A couple of laughing emojis followed Lauren’s last text, making Peter chuckle and stare at his screen dreamily.

‘ She's that crazy? ’

‘ You don't remember her at all, do you? ’ He frowned gently at her text, as he suddenly wondered if he had met you before. Sure, your face and something about you felt familiar, but he was sure he’d remember meeting someone like you. You didn’t really have a standard personality, whatever the hell that meant; nor your vibes felt like something he’d see every so often.

‘ I...should I? ’

' Omg Peter! She's my sister! '

His eyebrows frowned even more as he tried to remember. And then, the memories hit him like a train.

' Say whaaat? ' He replied.

That's why you felt oddly familiar, he thought. He'd seen you in the halls at school. Your hair looked different back then, but still had the same atmosphere. The atmosphere of some mysterious creature lying in wait.

' Yeah, she was two years below us '

As Peter continued remembering stances of seeing you in school, you were for the most part low profile. He did remember what your usual style for school was, band t-shirts, dark jeans, and he did remember hearing you every once in a while yelling, calling people out loudly for unfair or sexiest behavior.

He hummed and nodded his face as he remembered one time taking a pic of one the lockers with a big sticker that read ' Punk is not dead ' and remembered Lauren once mentioning that it was her sister's locker.

' Wait, wasn't your sister the crazy punk girl who messed with Flash's car after a party? '

Man, the Trashed Car Incident was a highly popular story in school. There was a party, which Peter missed for being patrolling the city, but he still heard all about it and saw the pictures. The house was full of crazy teenagers desperately getting drunk and touching each other. God knows how many souls could fit in that small house in the suburbs. However, by the time Flash wanted to leave and went back to his fancy Audi A3 just taken out of the agency, he saw it. The tires were flat, and in neon spray painting, it read: " For all my sister's being touched without their consent, and had their reputations trashed while yours got elevated. See what it's like to have something you care for be hammered " signed with the initials PRG .

Flash wasn't exactly the best guy. He'd seduce all the pretty girls. It's rumored he'd make bets with his friends about who got a specific girl to sleep with them first. In parties he'd get drunk and end up fooling around with any drunk girl standing next to him at the time. He never really forced himself on them. They'd never say no to Flash, but they wouldn't say yes either. Many of those girls got called sluts afterwards. And Flash would be praised. And it always followed the same cycle. Over and over again.

The signature PRG came from a nickname Flash had given you. You were in your freshman year, and Flash was a sophomore. He tried getting his way with you but found it hard to seduce you. And in his futile attempt, he'd given you the name Punk Rock Girl . It was a reference to a band you apparently liked. However, Flash completely ruined the song for you as you were ‘more interested in hanging out with the raccoons at the dumpster’ than going out with Flash, as rumors had it, you’d told him. After having rejected him a handful of times, Flash started spreading rumours about you, ruining your reputation in the process. But how little you cared was outstanding. Since you barely even reacted to said rumours, soon they stopped and people instead ignored them like you did. This pissed off Flash.

However, it wasn’t until you messed with his car, he truly developed a huge disliking of you. And since that event, Flash didn’t dare to mess with you any longer, as he’d seen the lengths you’d go to. And thus, having earned the title of Loonie.

‘ The one and only Punk Rock Girl. ’ Lauren replied.

‘ Can I ask how did she not get expelled? Everyone was saying she was gonna be kicked out, ’ He asked.

‘ Oof, she called him out on his behavior and did it so well the principal didn’t really have any good argument to expel her. Also because she defended her actions saying the car event happened outside the school grounds and therefore the school has no jurisdiction in the matter. And well, our mom is a lawyer, she backed up her statement ’

‘ Didn’t she get in trouble with your parents? ’

‘ Oh she did, but she said she’d do it again if it means helping other women from being taken advantage of and manipulated. She accepted the punishment our parents gave her. She paid for the damage of Flash’s car with her own savings, but she still told Flash she’d gladly trash his car again if she heard he was still being an asshole to women ’

‘ Wow… ’

‘ Exactly, wow ’

Ultimately, the principal had no option but to let you stay in school. Especially because he knew if you spoke out loud about this issue, it would put the school in a bad position in the public eye. Sure, you hated the fact that the principal didn't do anything to Flash, but at least he didn't kick you out either.

' Damn, I never knew much about all of it besides Punk Rock Girl hammering Flash’s car and almost getting expelled… ’ He typed next.

‘ Yeah, she told us not to spread the whole story ’ Peter frowned softly at her reply, as she raised an eyebrow, curious at your reasoning behind it.

‘ How come? ’

‘ She likes to keep her privacy ’

‘ A punk who won't stay silent about injustice yet likes to stay off the spotlight, huh? ’ Peter wrote.

‘ Punks are loud not because they care for the spotlight, but because they care for change, they want the truth to be heard and spread ideas that’ll benefit minorities. They don’t do it for fame and praise. They do it because if it’s not them, then things won’t change on their own ’ His eyes widened in surprise as he reread that a couple of times before replying.

‘ That’s beautiful ’ He texted.

‘ She wrote that line once for a paper ’ Peter hummed an affirmative as he nodded his head, thinking it did make sense if it was something you’d written. It did sound an awful lot like you, to be fair. He could say that with certainty without knowing he had read your writing before.

‘ I love her. She does help me a lot with the band ’ Lauren sent.

‘ That's nice of her ’ He replied as he kept thinking about you.

He kept texting Lauren until she told him she was heading to bed. And with that, they said their goodbyes. However, Peter’s mind kept going, thinking of the rumors people spread about you, and how they always seemed to be...out of character? People called you all sorts of awful things, although, when Peter thought about it, the only people you messed with were the popular kids, and it was never unjustified. So believing all the rumours about you being mean and a bully or doing weird stuff was hard. At least for Peter.

Despite not really paying much attention to you during school, he did remember thinking you were cool for standing up so fearlessly for those who needed it. You let people spread rumors about you without raising your voice, but as soon as you saw someone get bullied, you were the first one to throw punches and yell at the oppressor. Peter respected that. And he knew that and wished he had the chance of meeting you, although back then he was slightly intimidated by your reputation, he never really approached you.

Not until now at least. Although, to be fair, he didn't know it was the infamous Punk Rock Girl he had been talking to at the bar that night. And perhaps that lack of knowledge was what allowed him to calmly approach you. The fact that now he knew who you were made it all more exciting. He still couldn't pinpoint what he felt for you, but you sure sparked something within him. And if you in some way or another ever reciprocated, he'd be surprised with himself.

On the other hand, you kept frantically going around the fact that Peter had picked up on you being as reserved as apparently MJ was. It was a very tiny slip, but one that was picked up by someone. You thought you needed to be more careful. And kept replaying that scene in your head over and over again.

As you stood behind your desk, staring at a blank document with a blinking cursor, wanting to type down the spiral of thoughts you kept going through. Your two other roommates were asleep as it was late night. And you didn't hear your third roommate walk in, whistling and closing the door behind him.

Clueless as to how your roommate went to the kitchen, left something in the fridge and then walked towards you, still whistling and banging his head to the rhythm of the music playing in his headphones.

All while your head kept going around Peter. His sharp mind, working almost like a sixth sense of sorts. How did he so easily picked up on it? If you kept being so mysterious, he'd end up figuring out you were MJ. That was if you were gonna see him in the future. Why would you see him in the future? You hadn't seen him since your sister and him graduated high school, and a few random stops at the coffee shop you worked at, but he never seemed to notice you. Until now. Why now? The poetic melodic voice in your mind kept pointing fingers at the romantic idea of fate. But what else could be expected of a writer if not to exaggerate and turn memories into potential story tropes?

The unseen notification of your sister's last text was shining bright on your screen. Haunting you.

'Peter Parker is interested in you, did you know that? ;) '

Of course you knew that. You'd seen the way he behaved tonight. Trying to get to know you, giving you charming smiles and over all polite gestures. Which did appeal to you, but you knew better than to get closer. You meant what you told him about the trust issues. At least when it came to dating. After your first and last boyfriend had cheated on you with a girl you took class with, you knew you didn't want to go through something like that again.

"Can't sleep?" Your roommate said looking over your shoulder.

His voice suddenly intruding in your thought train pulled you so violently away from your trance you flinched and squealed. His first reaction was to giggle as he put his hand on your shoulder.

"Yo, calm down it's me" He said softly. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Saw you on your computer and thought you'd probably been there for a while, so I brought you pizza" He said handing you a small plate with two thin slices.

"Ah–, thanks Miles" You sighed and looked at him, taking the plate off his hand. "No, it's fine, I was… spacing out"

"Yeah, I noticed," He chuckled and looked at your blank screen, raising an eyebrow and giggling.

"I didn't know we had pizza" You said staring at the plate, thinking you weren’t hungry, although you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.

"We do now. Went out to have a couple of drinks with my uncle Aaron. We had pizza at the bar, and I remembered we didn't have anything back home. My uncle Aaron insisted on paying for the pizza, though" Miles explained with a soft smirk.

"Tell your uncle Aaron he rocks" You chuckled and took a bite of the pizza, moaning softly. “This is good…” You muttered to yourself.

"He knows he’s cool. You good, though? You seem stressed…" He said taking a spare chair next to your seat and looked at you.

Feeling the weight of your own eye bags, and slightly dissociated mind, you shook your head softly.

"I met a guy who's a big MJ fan" You replied as Miles clicked his tongue and hummed an affirmative.

"Ah, I see…another identity hound?” He said, giving you a knowing smirk as you nodded.

Normally, you could easily deflect these people you called Identity Hounds. More of them were paranoid people who believed all the rumours about MJ. Most rumours were created on your own in order to deflect them. Like MJ being a guy.

"Yeah, except this guy has a sharper mind that everyone I've come across before… " You said, biting the tip of your thumb, thinking.

"Oh, not good” Miles sighed as he leaned against the backrest.

"Hopefully I won't be seeing him soon nor often” You sighed, somewhat relieved by your own consolation. You had absolutely no idea if that was gonna be the case, but you still tried to cling to the idea of New York being a city big enough to not see him in a while.

Although, life had other plans

"I hope so, man.” Miles said leaning forward and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Anyways, I'm heading to bed. See ya tomorrow, Loon. Don’t stay up too late, yeah?" He said as he walked towards his room and you continued to stare at your blank document.

"Night, Miles…" You purred, not sure if he’d heard you or not.

It definitely took you a while to feel sleepy. And during that whole time, you remained staring at the blank screen with little to no success. It was hard to tell whether it was still 2 am or the clock already marked 3 by the time you went to bed. Your mind was still going in circles about the odd person Peter Parker was. He was oddly observant and far more sharper than most people. He was cute and charming, but the moment he started connecting dots no one had even seen in the first place, you decided it was going to be best to keep your distance.

The next morning, it wasn’t hard to ignore the alarm, and what felt like the first time in months, you actually stopped your alarm without snoozing. Sighing tiredly, as four, perhaps five, hours of sleep was all you got, although your mind still seemed to be all over the place. And without wasting much time, you went to the swimming pool, as per usual; however, this time, it wasn’t out of healthy habits you were trying to stick to, it was because you wanted to free your mind from the intrusive thoughts, even if it was just for an hour.

After leaving the pool, you headed to your job at a small coffee shop, where you’d spend the next 10 hours making coffee and warming up croissants for picky eaters. And if there was a bit of free time, you'd go to a small table not far from the wooden bar and you'd sit behind your laptop and work on your novel.

Any MJ writing you'd always keep it to the confines of your apartment. In case there were people with wandering eyes. And also by dividing your time between your writing and MJ's you actually managed to get things written for both authors.

The soft doorbell jingled as the door opened and closed. Your eyes looking up to the door as you felt your stomach turn cold.

'God, no…' You thought.

As you wondered what were the chances of Peter showing up here the very next day after you "met" him. You thought Murphy had a nasty sense of humor.

Getting up from your table, you went to the cash register as you cursed at every deity of chaos for putting you in such a situation. As you avoided looking at him, you acted as if you didn't know who was behind the bar.

"Good afternoon what can I–" You said looking up and feigning surprise as Peter also faked a surprised look and called your name.

"Hey, it's good to see you" He said, chuckling softly, as he thought his spidey sense kinda did tell him something was gonna happen, although nothing bad nor dangerous.

"Yeah. Also… odd… " You said, frowning softly. "I'd never seen you here before" You lied.

Peter chuckled awkwardly as he thought of how suspicious it was. But it had been a coincidence that he was there.

"I am taking pics for the paper I work at… And happened to be around here. I woke up late, got late to work and I actually forgot to have breakfast…" He chuckled awkwardly, however, every single word he said had been true.

"I see" You nodded, not sure if you believed him, though. But gave him the benefit of the doubt. "What can I get you, then?"

"Coffee, please!" He groaned dramatically. "The biggest cup you have"

"20 ounces?" You asked as you were ready to grab a paper cup for him, not being impressed by the amount of coffee as you’ve had people drink excessive amounts of coffee on a daily basis as you simply stared both amazed and worried.

"Wait no, that's too much…" He corrected immediately as he sighed and shyly pointed at the paper cup next to the largest one.

"Sixteen?" You asked as he nodded and you grabbed it.

"Yeah, better" He sighed.

"So, American coffee?"

As you were ready to write down his order, he spoke and said:

"A latte, instead. Changed my mind. Any kind of milk is fine" Nodding, you wrote down his instructions before turning to the screen pad and typed his order there.

Peter paid close attention to your features as you clicked a few options here and there, thinking you were quite beautiful, and how your face hadn’t really changed much since he graduated. At the same time, feeling slightly embarrassed at the fact that he hadn’t recognized you from school. He tried justifying it in the poor lighting and flashing lights from the bar. Although he knew it was a bullshit excuse. Perhaps he had been too busy between getting used to being Spiderman, losing his uncle Ben and then falling for Gwen to really notice your face, despite knowing what people said about you.

"Noted. Something else?" You said, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Oh, not sure. I don’t come here often…" He said looking at the desserts on the counter "What do you recommend?"

"The muffins are very good. We have butter, chocolate chips, blueberry… " You said gazing over the counter, feigning a lack of interest, although you knew far too well Peter caught your curiosity like very few things in life.

"Oh, blueberry, please"

You nodded as you charged him, handed him his change and proceeded to work on his coffee as he looked around nervously, feeling uncomfortable by the growing silence.

"You're the only one?" He said breaking the growing awkwardness, as you met his dark eyes and nodded.

"Barista, yes. At least for the time being… There are two people in the kitchen who make the sandwiches. A coworker should arrive in an hour or so…" You explained as you warmed up his muffin and finished his coffee. "Have a good day, Pete…" You said handing him his things. You exchanged stares before smiling politely at him.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He asked curiously, staring at you straight in the eye as you felt oddly exposed and looked away shyly.

"Sure" Was everything you could reply as you started to feel nervous as to what could Peter possibly ask you.

"Why didn't you tell me we went to the same school or that you were Lauren's sister?" He said, genuinely concerned, a part of him still feeling guilty over not recognizing you in the first place.

"Mystery is fun. Besides I am a pretty private person… " Peter chuckled as he thought he should've expected that to be your answer.

"Yeah, we established that last night," Peter chuckled. "You Mysterious Writers are a very interesting species"

"It's almost an unconscious marketing technique" You added with a soft giggle as you wiggled your eyebrows at him playfully.

"Hey, it could help you sell once you publish your novel"

"I might give it an actual try" You added as you gazed over at your laptop with the open document as Peter followed your stare and nodding immediately knowing it was yours.

"Anyways, thanks…" He purred your name softly as he looked into your eyes, the text Lauren sent him circling his mind still. "So, see you around?"

"Yeah, I guess" You replied smiling back at him.

Peter turned around, feeling his heart racing all of a sudden. A cheeky smile on his cheeks as he knew where to find you. Although, right before he got any closer to the door, he stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels. And walking back to the bar, he met your eyes again as you squinted yours and smirked.

"Oh hey, before I go… Can I ask you for one last thing?" He said, his cheeky grin spreading through his cheeks making him look all too cute.

"Sure" You said with a pretty obvious suspicious tone making him laugh softly.

"I kinda meant what I said about seeing you around… I'd like to hang out sometime soon… if that's fine with you of course...I had fun last night" Something in his voice told you he was actually telling the truth as you looked at him, noticing the growing puppy look in his eyes.

"Have you've always been this persuasive?" You said rolling your eyes and returning the playful smirk, although yours had a more sassy tone to it.

"I prefer to use the word charming" He said, smiling proudly.

"Let me guess, you were a teacher's pet?" The weight of the marker in the pocket of your apron seemed to grow with every word you exchanged.

"I'm not gonna deny nor confirm anything" You laughed at his reply.

"You definitely were a teacher's pet. Dorky, polite, smart… You have the entire profile of a teacher’s pet" You said as you grabbed the marker and played idly with it in your fingers as Peter was paying close attention to your every move.

"Say teacher’s pet one more time…" He said in a playful threatening voice as his smirk spread across his face.

"Peter Parker, the teacher's pet" You teased as you stared at him and raised an eyebrow.

Peter chuckled and pretended to be offended, dramatically stepping back and placing a hand over his chest. He was also surprised at the fact that you did know his full name, making him even more ashamed of not having recognized you.

"I'll play along as long as I can get your number" He answered as he got closer to the bar again.

"Now, that's manipulation" You said squinting your eyes and frowning, however your cheeky smile was still there, hypnotizing Peter.

"It's only manipulation if it works… is it… working?" Peter said with a smirk.

"I'm not gonna deny nor confirm anything" You said as you grabbed a napkin and wrote down your number and doodled a small frog next to it out of habit and handed it to him. "I don't like how persuasive you are, Parker" You chuckled.

"Too much power, huh?" He said, his smile leaning towards one side of his face.

He called your name one last time. Before gently waving and thanking you for the napkin as he left hopping happily with long strides as you chuckled and rolled your eyes.

Your mind lingered on him. He was smart, and witty, oddly straightforward with his flirting, but damn, was he charming. It was hard to resist. You wondered if that's why Gwen Stacy had fallen for him. She was incredibly centered, smart and focused in her studies. Many guys tried getting in her pants and she'd epically rejected them. But not Peter. He was smart. And so quick to make a comeback or jokes. That was hot. Although, something about how quick he was to think scared you a bit. How long would it take him to figure out you were MJ? And if he did, what would you do next?

If he were to find out, you'd have no other chance but to keep him around, and get him to keep the secret. But you still didn't know Peter good enough to know how trustworthy he was. How good was he at keeping secrets? You barely knew anything about the guy other than he'd usually use his skateboard inside school, take pics for the school paper and events, date Gwen and that he was a huge science nerd. Not enough information to properly form an opinion.

"Who was that?" Your friend Kylie said as she walked out of the kitchen. “I saw you two giggling and chatting…”

“Some guy who used to go to school with me” You replied, thinking.

“He’s cute” She said looking at you with curious eyes, wanting to see your reaction and what you had to say on the matter.

“Yeah. And very smart. And that’s a big problem…” You purred looking at her. “In less of an hour he made a comment about how MJ and I are similar…” You whispered.

“Oh, shit…That’s bad…” She muttered her eyes now opening in surprise.

“Yeah”

“Hey, another question, did you bring the pizza last night? I grabbed a slice for lunch today…” You noticed immediately Kylie had changed the topic in an attempt to distract you from Peter. She knew how people bringing up MJ’s identity made you tense almost as a reflex, and was trying to get your mind off of it.

“It was Miles” You said, snapping out a bit from your thought spiral as you looked at Kylie, her bottle green hair still felt weird to you as she’d dyed her hair just two days ago. “Well, to be precise, his uncle Aaron…Aaron bought us pizza” You said chuckling softly.

“Oh, Aaron is so sweet. I swear, he’s like the father of all of us renting that apartment…” Kylie said, dramatically resting her hand on her chest as you chuckled.

The day went by, and eventually your other roommate made it to the coffee place for his shift. Helping you out making coffee while Kylie and another cook worked in the kitchen. Shortly after, your shift was done; however you stayed the afternoon at the coffee shop working on your draft, your mind every once in a while wandering back to Peter as you'd take a few notes in another document as a personal essay in order to get those thoughts off your mind and be able to keep writing.

'Last night I felt almost as if my soul had returned to my body. I saw that familiar red and blue flash swinging past the corner, and I was more than glad to see he was back. Our friendly neighborhood Spiderman is back, doing what he does best.

I am saddened to say that that's how the usual Spiderman cycle goes. He goes missing, people realize how much we need him, he comes back, people are kind, then media start manipulating information, making him look bad, people forget everything he's done for us… Rinse and repeat.

Not me. I could never forget all the things he's done for us. For me. And I hope most people are like me in this sense.

Whoever wears the mask, I hope you get to read this. And if that's the case, I hope you're doing well. I want to thank you for everything you've done. And for everything you'll do in the future. You're far more valuable to the city than what people give you credit for. Please remember this.

It's good to have the friendly neighborhood Spiderman back'

On Monday, the office of The Daily Bogle was a raging ruckus again. Jameson was throwing his tantrum about never working with MJ again, making it pretty clear that he disliked the idea that the writer that brought more attention to the paper was a Spiderman supporter, something Jameson wasn't. He even went the extra mile to have an article for tomorrow's paper about the return of Spiderman and the possible bad impact it might have in New York.

"Leeds!" Jameson shouted.

"Sir!" Ned flinched softly as he stood up from his chair.

"Write that bastard an email telling him we don't want to work with him ever again, and while you're there, tell him to go screw himself, I don't like vigilante supporters"

"I-I… sir…" Ned nodded and sat back in his seat.

Peter frowned, annoyed by the latest request his neurotic boss had just ordered. Not only because that meant losing contact with MJ altogether, he now didn't have any chance. He sighed deeply as Gloria and Ned exchanged looks and Peter got up from his seat holding his camera.

"Parker! Where do you think you're going?" Jameson barked.

"Take some pictures for the paper" He sighed annoyed.

"Don't take too long. Make sure to eat in the meantime, you'll be using your lunch break to get those pics ready for printing. Bring decaf coffee, I asked Angela to buy more but she didn't bring it!"

Peter rolled his eyes and left. Feeling frustrated, he headed towards your workplace hoping to see a familiar face that'll bring him comfort.

Truth was, Peter didn't keep any friends. How could he? He felt his secret identity might be a danger to whoever was close to him. And normally kept people at a distance.

However, something was drawing him towards you. Perhaps the desire to have someone to go to when he wanted to vent about his day and get his mind off his burdens, like people normally did with friends. That and the fact that you simply caught his attention. You were smart and laid back despite the present mystery surrounding you. And the way your eyes focused on him with the same intrigue as his, it was hard for him not to meet your gaze and get lost in it. It was something he'd forgotten how it felt like.

He stopped behind the glass door, as he asked himself what exactly was he doing there. Peter didn't know for sure. Your silhouette moving back and forth behind the coffee bar along with another guy as you exchanged words and laughs together, the line getting shorter as you two worked together. A gentle smile spread through his face, not noticing how creepy he looked staring as you cluelessly worked not really noticing due to the rush hour of people getting coffee.

As you registered orders and wrote down instructions on paper cups, you heard the bell jingling softly as you sighed thinking how rush hour couldn't get any busier. However, you kept working, begging for that last person to be the last customer for the next half an hour at least.

Which turned out to be true. As you kept taking orders, you didn't hear the doorbell ring any further. As the line got shorter and shorter, you could only feel more and more relieved with every passing customer as you had been taking orders nonstop for an hour now. You weren’t paying attention to who was in line, mostly taking note of how many people were left.

Finally, as your rearview got a glimpse of the last customer left, you handed Andy, your coworker and roommate, a paper cup with the instructions written down. As you turned back to the pad on the cash register, your lips moved on their own, greeting automatically.

“Good morning, welcome to the Coffee Pot, what can I–” You stopped as you looked up holding your marker ready to write down orders as you met Peter’s stare, your heart skipping a beat and your mind suddenly turning blank as you weren’t expecting him. Three days in a row, you thought. “Peter?” You asked surprised as you chuckled awkwardly. “I’m seeing you a lot lately, huh?” You said with a sarcastic tone.

“Not stalking, I swear” Peter added with a gentle laugh. “I’m running away from my work for a while. My boss is driving me insane” Peter explained, slightly nervous as he knew how odd it was that for two days straight, he’d gone to your workplace unannounced. He sighed softly, slightly defeated. “I’m not having the best day, and wanted to go someplace where I can get my mind off of it”

His voice got lower and sounded genuine, as you could pick up on the annoyance in his voice. You pushed your lips together as your eyebrows lifted, feeling sorry for him, despite not knowing what truly was happening to him. You simply felt sympathy and knew how not having a good day felt like, as well as the urge to get your mind off your work for a while. You nodded and grabbed a paper cup and wrote down the coffee he’d asked you for the day before as you still remembered his order.

“I hope you want what you ordered yesterday” You said chuckling, trying to comfort him.

“You remember what I had yesterday?” He replied, his face changing as a smirk spread through his lips.

“I’ve got a good memory” You replied as you handed Andy the paper cup and grabbed a blueberry muffin.

“Oh, no, please” He said, sighing your name softly. “I’ve only got cash for the coffee…” He said.

“The muffin’s on me, Pete” You said handing him the muffin in a small paper bag.

“Oh come on” He whined.

“I’m serious. You’re having a bad day, and I wanna help turn it around” The gentle smile you gave Peter left him breathless for a second as he forgot for a moment why he was even in a bad mood to begin with. He clicked his tongue and grabbed the paper bag from you.

“When you put it that way, it is hard to say no” He said as he handed you a bill. “Let me repay you sometime”

“I did a random act of kindness, Peter. Not a favor. You don’t owe me anything” You said with a confident tone, trying to get him to stop insisting.

“Random act of kindness, huh? Okay, as a random act of kindness, I’ll take you out someday to a churro cart close to Rafferty Triangle…” He said as he looked at you with playful eyes and a soft smile.

“Peter…” You sighed, your voice getting lower.

“There’s this Puerto Rican lady who has a churro cart, they’re great! They’re stuffed with nutella and–”

“Stop using my phrases against me” You cut him off with a soft giggle as you realized which kind of person Peter was. And he was the kind of person who somehow felt obligated to return favors or compensate others.

“Why?” He laughed.

“Copyright? I don’t know…” You chuckled knowing it hadn’t been your best comeback.

“No, not gonna buy that one” He teased. “Let me do something nice for you someday”

Truth was, Peter was now grasping at any chance he had to spend time with you. Any little excuse to get to see you or talk to you drew him in. Something about you was so fascinating to him, he needed to take any chance to be with you.

“I mean, you already are. You are consuming in the place I work at” You said as you looked around. Very briefly locking stares with your coworker Andy, as he gave you a knowing stare, noticing the flirting going both ways with the two of you.

“You know what I mean,” Peter added.

“I do…” Andy handed you Peter’s coffee as you handed it to him, since Peter was still by the cash register. He grabbed the paper cup, his fingers brushing yours and he intentionally lingered there. Noticing how you intentionally remained there holding his cup for a few seconds, his hand next to yours before letting go. Something that lasted far too long, burning each other’s skin as you both wondered what exactly was happening and how exactly you felt about the other.

“Thanks…” He said as he met your stare briefly before looking away shyly.

“You’re leaving already?” You asked softly as you thought he’d stay longer. You wanted him to stay longer.

“You see, I have to, quote-unquote work…” He chuckled.

“I see…” You sighed slightly disappointed, but without anything to say. “You mentioned working at a paper, can I ask which one?”

“The Daily Bogle” Something in his answer made your gentle look suddenly turned bitter.

“You work there?” You asked, your voice coming out a lot more sour than intended. ‘No offence, but I kinda hate that paper…” You chuckled awkwardly, however, you didn’t want to hide your discomfort in the matter.

“Not the best place, but puts bread on the table” Peter sighed, as you could tell from his reply he wasn’t exactly happy to work there.

“You’re a photographer there?” You asked as bit by bit you began connecting dots.

“Yeah…”

“I see” You said looking away, suddenly too deep in your thoughts as you remembered a couple of things you’d heard about The Daily Bogle and remembering each and every article you’ve read there that made you dislike it. “Wait, so you’re the guy who takes pics of Spiderman?” You asked curiously as you’d heard there was only one photographer in New York who managed to get pics of Spiderman.

“So people say” Peter said, suddenly getting on guard as he thought you were quick to realize it.

“Do you like him?” You asked, your voice turning serious, as you knew you were being straightforward right now, but now that this information about Peter had come out, you thought it was important to know where he stood, before making any more progress. What he replied now would define what you thought of him and how close you wanted him to be.

“Spiderman? I think he’s a swell guy” He replied, shrugging it off, making it seem like he didn’t think much on the matter.

“Then why would you do that to him?” You asked, your vice cutting as your gaze suddenly turned sharper as Peter knew what you meant and sighed deeply.

“Look, he doesn’t care” He replied, trying to divert the tension.

“How do you know?” You asked, as Peter met your stare and felt like he was staring at the fearless girl who trashed Flash’s car without remorse, suddenly feeling slightly intimidated, as if he were walking on thin ice.

“I do” He replied, knowing he couldn’t let his voice falter.

“You know him” You concluded, making it clear that it wasn’t a question, as Peter didn’t know how to reply to such a direct statement. He shrugged.

You chuckled bitterly as you looked away, as you took a deep breath, feeling slightly betrayed by how sweet and gentle he looked, and yet he worked for the paper who specialized in calling Spiderman a form of criminal. The Spiderman you always defended through MJ’s signature, since you were oddly related to the masked hero. Standing up and helping those in need because those at the top won’t do it themselves. You knew the parasocial relationship was a big stretch, but it was oddly comforting to know there were people like you. And the scale with which Spiderman did it, risking his life so selflessly. You admired that.

“Peter, so far I’ve enjoyed interacting with you, please don’t ruin it…” You sighed as you met his stare briefly, noticing the way his dark brown eyes softened with guilt.

“What are you…” He said, trying to mask his growing anxiety with an awkward chuckle.

“Spiderman has saved me a couple of times in the past, and I’m immensely grateful to the guy…I really dislike the things The Bogle has to say about him…” You replied, your voice easing as you could tell Peter didn’t feel exactly proud of The Bogle’s actions.

“I’m in a complicated position…” Peter sighed looking away, as he didn’t know what to say to make the situation better.

“Yeah. Because surviving in New York is hard, isn’t it?” You spat, as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, knowing you were getting too worked up too fast.

“I’ve tried looking for other jobs…And I’m still in the Bogle because it’s a stable income. Well, it is stable when my editor isn’t threatening me…” He murmured.

“What?” You questioned not liking his wording. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve tried stopping giving him Spiderman pictures, because…you’ve read what he says about Spiderman, and he’s threatened me to kick me out. And I can’t give myself the luxury of not having a job, not even for a couple of days.. my tenant is ready to kick me out even if I’m five minutes late paying rent…”

You looked at him amazed as your mouth fell open and suddenly all the anger you were feeling now canalized on someone else. You hummed a scoff as you looked away and Peter looked back at you. He saw you run a hand through your face and hair as you looked at him, your eyes now considerably softer as they met his.

“I’m sorry” You replied in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to…get mad at you… ”

“Well, I can’t blame you for getting mad at me for helping sabotage Spiderman” Peter said, snickering softly at the irony that he was Spiderman and he worked for the asshole who’s favorite hobby was to talk shit about him.

“Why don’t you try freelance?” You asked him.

“How exactly? I…” He stopped himself as he took a deep breath and looked at you. “You’re gonna think I’m pathetic, but I don’t know anyone…I suck at meeting people and maintaining friendships. And as far as I’m concerned, Freelance depends a lot on contacts…”

For Peter it was hard, impossibly hard to keep people close. For starters, he was a naturally lone wolf, however, after taking Spiderman’s identity, and after what Gwen’s father had told him, he knew it was best for everyone if he remained a lone wolf. He still carried the guilt and responsibility of Gwen’s death on his shoulders, only further proving his point that he was better left alone. But he’d be lying if he said he was fine on his one. Truth was, his life felt terribly lonely at times, and his escape was to get this mind busy either at work, or by putting on the red and blue suit. He avoided his loneliness by staying busy, but on bad days, it was hard to run away from it.

And yet, he found himself orbiting your general direction. Regardless of the nature of his feelings for you, he also longed for a friend. Someone to rely on when he felt overwhelmed. Like he’d done today. He felt fed up with Jameson’s bullshit and found himself going to your workplace. To see you, to talk to you, to get his mind off his burdens a bit. And even talking about how unhappy he was in The Bogle felt awfully relieving.

“Let me help you. I know a thing or two about freelance…” You said, immediately regretting your words, as you knew you couldn’t teach him what you knew without giving away you were MJ.

“What?” Peter’s gaze changed as you broke him apart from his thought train and took a 180° change on his look, now gazing at you curiously.

“My cousin is getting married in a couple of months, I’m gonna ask her if she has a photographer yet…” You said. “How does that sound?”

“Really?” He coughed. “I-I…don’t have a lot of fancy equipment…”

“One of my roommates took a class on photography in college and he has some equipment he had to buy. I don’t think he’s gonna mind if we borrow them for an afternoon…” You said, shrugging, as you knew Miles wouldn’t really mind in the first place, plus he was going as your plus one for the wedding.

“I…Sure…Please!” He chuckled, getting weirdly excited as his new found happiness somehow permeated to you and you looked away, feeling suddenly too shy to look at him.

“Okay…are you free on Thursday? After 5?” You asked him as the voice at the back of your head started panicking as you had a few days to think how the hell were you going to solve this. You needed a plan to fix this without having to involve your little secret. And soon, an idea sparked in your head. You were going to need Aaron Davis’ help.

~~~~~~~~

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