#can I count ryan?
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i love when musicians who have histories of like depression, drug abuse, alcholism, etc, just. get better yk? they get old and they have wrinkles and gray hair and they look OLD but they're happy and actually having a good time and IDK IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY. they just went through the hell and came out of the other side happier and a better person and just AGAGSTSTGS
#this was spawned by that picture of bilvy with long gray hair#and wwwy gerard#ESPECIALLY WWWY GERARD#and the knife speech thing???#like omg#ok im gonna tag ppl now#william beckett#gerard way#mikey way#bert mccracken#patrick stump#pete wentz#joe trohman#can I count ryan?#fuck it#ryan ross#mikey talks#anthony green#dallon weekes
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It's hilarious how the visceral adoration Wade felt for Captain America was equaled only by the visceral hatred he felt for Johnny Storm
#chris how are we feeling#can someone vibe check evans real quick lol#receiving that script must have been a breath of fresh air#ryan is the toxic enabler of all these actors and i love that for them#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#deadpool 2024#wade wilson#steve rogers#johnny storm#captain america#the human torch#mcu fantastic four#mcu avengers#mcu deadpool#deadpool#ryan reynolds#chris evans#for no other valid reason did he hate that man other than the fact that he wasn't captain america#the second he said flame on he became public enemy number 2#right under nicepool#logan doesn't count because his official category is 'frenemy you fuck whenever you'd like'#'preferably in a honda odyssey'#i'm thinking this deadpool must love the fantastic four in that johnny's universe
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your puffle needs a name…/ref
this idea was given to me by the divine but my ibisPaint having to be deleted and reinstalled stopped its creation 💔
i also forgot the brush i was using so were back to using the old reliable (Dip Pen)
COLOURING AND SHADING IS MY NUMBER ONE OP I SWEAR I CAN NEVER DO IT PROPERLY..
#punch out#punch out!!#aran ryan#ok i can tag it aran ryan without freaking out bc he’s actually in the drawing this time..#punch out oc#maybe?? Sean and Cian count as ocs i think#yeah im gonna go with that 💔
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So do you actually believe PLD is a good player or is that part of the bit?
The PLD Post
i spent a good 2 days giggling about this to friends. i cant tell if ur a curious caps fan, a person who knows me from my other teams, a disgruntled kings fan (i’ve mostly ruled this out because im pretty sure i know all of the active ones on here) or WHAT. but i’m laughing. the tone of this ask is hilarious and vaguely accusatory but i will take it in good faith and answer <3 tl;dr yes and no. he’s better than people think he is rn, but he’s likely never going to live up to the potential of his tools unless something . idk. recalibrates his entire being. who knows!
i was working on something longer and more complex but i thought about it for more than 5 seconds and i REFUSE to go hockey-bro mode and pull out the microstats and i don’t wanna make this into a full on PLD manifesto. so. caps girlies (gn) HERE are your adoption papers under the cut!
if you are looking at pierre luc dubois who is 6’4 + 220lb and thinking “Oh he’s a power forward” i have to inform you he is in fact THEEE smallest mouse to ever play hockey in the whole world and in all of history. he sips nectar out of a thimble and sleeps curled up in a match box and goes fishing in a boat made from nutshells and twigs . he’s big, but he sort of plays small.
this is not necessarily a bad thing — he relies on foot speed and skill over hitting.
he can throw hits but prefers to stick check. he leverages his big frame to guard the puck and to defend, and it makes him simultaneously VERY effective and very much what i like to call a Nexus Of Crime. he is either drawing ten thousand penalties because people have to do something to stop him from driving the net with speed OR he is taking ten thousand penalties because he gets eager in the corners.
PLUS he’s huge and refs do just assume he’s committing a crime when they can’t see what’s going on <3 hence, Nexus Of Crime! if there’s a penalty he’s probably involved LMAO
not a “dirty” player by any means. not physical unless he decides he wants to. and there is no violence inside of him unless he’s deeply horsebonded to his team <- IMPORTANT re; playoffs aspirations. you won’t see him put himself on the line simply for the love of the game, he HAS to be committed to the team.
to be committed to his team… i’m honestly not sure what that takes. i’d guess a combination of knowing his role on the ice and in the locker room (this was very unclear on lak) consistency of messaging from coaches (also seemed to be an issue on lak)
i know nothing about caps coaching or management or the team vibes but i’m sure you can fix him <3 i’m ready to fall in love and ride this team to the sunset
this failhorse will NOT shoot the puck and if he does it will be the saddest soggiest most pathetic shot you’ve ever seen. you will tear your hair out in chunks if you watch him expecting an elite goalscorer.
he’s a pass-first guy. likes to drop pass! likes to drive play from the middle but is also capable of getting pucks off the boards. he needs a finisher on his wing. i could pull up stats here, there are stats to be pulled up, but i know this in my HEART from watching dozens of kings games: he would have had 10-15 more points easily if he wasn’t stapled to the 3rd line and had better finishers. many times i watched him tee up a very good opportunity only for his guy to miss the net or fan or just get knocked off the puck
individually, he thrives in front of the net. his ass is fat and he’s about to use it to screen the goalie. hes good at catching loose pucks in the crease to send them home <3 see his performance at worlds. he scored basically all of his goals right up there!!
most media coverage/narratives will tell you his point production dropped off bc of effort (which is true) but even the MOST resentful kings watchers will say pld wasn’t given his best shot playing with inexperienced+fringe nhlers, being line shuffled the moment he got a bit comfortable, and also not getting ANY net front time on the lak pp. i factor this into all my judgements of his performance.
He’s def earned his diva rep LMAO!! this is personal opinion here but he seems like a sensitive and easily rattled little clam… like he will have a couple of bad shifts and if there’s nobody there to shake him out of it he’ll lose his grasp on the game and play like shit <3 a rolling joke on kingstwt was figuring out which PLD we were getting that game, and you could tell by his 5th if he was switched on or off!!
they hate him for this but EYE think this is nothing new for athletes and if he can consistently stay in the zone he’ll probably be pretty good. mental fortitude of a wet tissue my beloved….
moving onto the Vibes section!! he was always good humoured in media availability and didn’t shy away from scrums even when public opinion soured against him and critiques of both his hockey and his character had reached a fever pitch. i like this about him. he always gave authentic answers and tried his best to accomodate them, and never hid behind his captains.
he gets along quite well with teammates despite the narratives. no seriously!! some of the the kings had a hang out during off-season right before they went to worlds!! there’s bisexual lighting!!!!
there’s interviews from old jets teammates that are just like. “he used to turn up at my house with his dog and text IM HERE with no warning and that’s how we became friends” or “his obsession with euro soccer teams bewitched me”. he had control of the aux cord. he was a den mother and planned group gatherings. a genuine sweetheart to every teammate he’s ever had!!
I don’t think he’s some. idk. secret 100 point producing star 1C. but i truly believe with the right environment he’ll probably hit 60 points again.
thank you for your time if you made it this far and i hope to see you all in the trenches (caps lb) next season 👍
#i was HOOTING about this ask lol#anon if you’re out there… i hope this answered your question!!#anyway caps girlies if you want the vibe check on pld and what you’re getting that ISNT filtered through ten million layers of#I Don’t Watch The Kings But—#and clickbait articles/videos from people who have to pump out content so they can make money off gambling sponsorships HERE YOU GO!!#pierre luc dubois#asks#anon#washington capitals#caps lb#primers#<- does this count. it counts now#and fyi i am NOT just her because of pld i am also sentimental about your prospect ryan leon-rd <3 i was excited to see if he would#de-commit from bc next season!!
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OK troops, time-sensitive poll — I have been left unsupervised w a bookshop gift voucher. What should I get? (They don't have Cyrano de Bergerac in stock so I'm open to suggestions)
tbh there is a chance any number of these are also out of stock... hope springs eternal
U have 7 hours to get yr votes (& suggestions) in before I leave the city. Make me proud! 🫡
#The Count of Monte Cristo#The Night Circus#Lost in the Funhouse#The Menelaiad#The Last Werewolf#books#poll#vignettes de ma vie#for anyone who wants more context:#I have already listened to the original anonymous Monte Cristo translation but I hear Buss's is a bit more modern & I'm curious#The Night Circus is an eternal fave that I still somehow don't own (rlly hoping I can get the cover the one I read in high school had)#rlly want a hard copy of the Menelaiad!! which is a surrealist mindfuck of a take on Menelaos's story during the Homeric epics#& The Last Werewolf is a novel (trilogy) but I actually know it from the eponymous album by The Real Tuesday Weld#the author & the singer are best mates so he wrote him the album as an accompaniment to the novel's story#& I love the album! so I'm keen to find out what the novel contains#meanwhile Cyrano is Cyrano. I stay obsessed. sigh 🤍🪶🖋#this bookshop only has that one random WWI adaptation of it rolled up w Antigone which...?? I might read someday???#but I want to start off on more solid classic footing first sfdksglfhdkd. thanks anyway Damien Ryan
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the buddy system is a powerful thing blessed be this team's love and friendship for one another even on a day as charged as this one aka all hail the united front ☝️
lombo trying to get in a word edgewise to stenny (a sentiment that he'll wait for him presumably) but the reporter's already talking so he just tries his best to get stennys attention to his own utter detriment because stennys too focused
bless lombo trying to be sweet but his efforts arent acknowledged because said person its supposed to be acknowledged by is busy doing his job lmaoooo
lombo hearing his name "yeah" yep thats the one word i understand yup that checks carry on i need everyone to know that THATS the one i got
even stenny cant help but chuckle a bit. are you charmed by his airheadness? are you? are youuuu??? is he endearing??? does his antics amuse you?????
the reporter saying "very good" like hes talking to a kid I WANT TO CRYYYYYY we have to praise efforts to be engaged in pressers like yeah you know what gold star for that one bonus points if you make everyone erupt into giggles
as you can see hes not sure what hes doing here except be eyecandy to stennys eyecandy but hes trying his best and maybe hes a little nervous but its the thought that counts
"thank you ryan for setting up the question appreciate it!" "no problem! great question 😃👍" said with tonality of a man who absolutely does not know what was said other than his name. oh bless his heart hes trying <3
STENNY DO YOU THINK HES FUNNY DOES HE AMUSE YOU GREATLY DO LIKE HIS SILLYISMS
if i had nickle for everytime a baddy, who usually has a stoic approach to media scrums, get a smile milked out of them by their shorter sillier companier id have two nickles. which isnt a lot. but its weird that its happened twice. unfortunately its a pattern this team is wrought with that narrative oh my god.
edmonton oilers @ florida panthers game 7 pregame interview | 6.24.24 (x)
#ryan lomberg#kevin stenlund#florida panthers#2324#playoffs 24#the two hot brunettes are being paired up for a presser WHERE DO I LOOK#ill never get over how much smaller lombo is compared to everyone#hes an absolute unit but even next to the hunched over bigfoot-esque stance stenny takes on over there hes still so small#stenny your posture is awful babygirl please you dont need to hunch down like that#i mean i guess you do whoever set the mics up didn't bother to adjust it for him 😭😭#last time lombo mics was set up way too high now stennys mic is a little too low#ryan “i dont know what im doing here but im happy to be here” lomberg#kevin “i didnt think much of you staying till you spoke up and made me laugh so i guess that counts for something” stenlund#lombo said with the enthusiasm of a cocker spaniel#mr president another “ill wait for your presser to end so we can leave together :)” has hit the towers#on the last gameday too? YALL WANT ME TO CRY
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you agree. click reblog
#as an ex archeologist?? if i can count as one not really lmao i do have a bachelors degree i agree!!!#mystery files#ryan and shane
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“ i had to move a great distance from you. ”
@cadisfly
Behind Will, the hearth spits its crackling resentment, giving voice to the bitterness that squeezes Hannibal's heart. The strength of the emotion surprises him, and he detaches from it so that he can examine it, turning it over between his hands. It throbs through his body, tugging at the corner of his mouth and tightening the sturdy line of his jaw. This delights him.
Even after all this time—perhaps more so because of it—the two of them are uniquely equipped to wound each other. Will finds the soft, fleshy paunch of Hannibal's vulnerability and sinks his teeth into it, and Hannibal throws his head back and groans like Saint Teresa each time an arrow finds its mark.
He smiles contentedly, stretching satisfaction taut over the shape of his rancor, and does not break Will's gaze. Their presence here in Will and Blanche's house is an indignity to Hannibal—a reversal of power he can scarcely abide. Will stands in front of the fire, and Hannibal sits behind him, beneath him, on Will's hideous, poorly manufactured couch, in Will's dominion—this purgatory Will inhabits with his spouse—because he is not physically strong enough to stand.
An image comes to Hannibal of one of Will's dogs, staring its master down in a display of dominance it cannot hope to manifest.
He dismisses it.
"Oedipus, too, sought to escape himself," Hannibal says into the silence between them. He wonders whether Blanche is listening to their conversation, whether she is perceptive enough to feel the warm, wet spread of mistrust. Perhaps the feeling is familiar to her already, having set down its roots somewhere tender and dark. Three years, after all, is quite a long time to pretend.
"No country was far enough to unlatch him from his fate."
#ic.#cadisfly#you know what#i went back to edit this and realized i can just fuckin end it here!!!#counting this as one win for short replies#even if it is three years late#also i want you to know that the next paragraph i'd started began with “their house is abhorrent”#anyway#i started working on this back when ryan showed back up again ryan if you're still out there somewhere i miss you and blanche is eternal
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Coronation Street | 2023.03.27.
#coronation street#corrieedit#ryan connor#daisy midgeley#ryan x daisy#mine#corrie stuff#insane to do this on her would be wedding day <3#and i know they can make it worse. thats one thing i can always count on iain for#cs.20230327
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yes ive become the very thing I swore to destroy yadda yadda blahblahblah BUT you look me in the eyes and tell me 1 ex-NYCer lesbian livin in the spare room of a house owned by 6 different flavors of state school frat boy doesn't sound like the setup to a sitcom 👀
#if u can count on me for anything its that im always in some type of Living Situation™#sometimes a house can be u. ur best friend since u were 16. ur high school prom king. two dudes named ryan in the basement.#a guy who spends 6 hours a day at the gym. and Philosopher Nick™#like... LMAO record scratch freeze frame i bet ur wondering how i got in this situation#but im having a good time#liv shouts into the void
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Ryan Murphy making a drive by to the 911 writing team like HEY IM THE EP AND I DEMAND WE ADD SOME SINGING. PEOPLE LOVE SINGING.
#anyway you can always count on me to shitpost#and shit on ryan murphy#911 spoilers#911#ryan said i dont use my position as ep for evil often#but when i do its to give people war flashbacks to glee
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kaitlyn dever saw both parade and new york new york !!
#kaitlyn dever#ben platt#colton ryan#can i#dear evan hansen (2021)#I did#they’re cast!!! it counts!!!!!#parade broadway#new york new york
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Oscar Nominations Predictions - November 2024
Yup it's that time of year again. Now that we are getting to the end of the year and I've seen more movies, let's see.
My predictions (in alphabetical order):
Best Picture:
Anora
The Brutalist
A Complete Unknown*
Conclave
Dune Pt 2
Emilia Perez
Nickel Boys*
A Real Pain
Sing Sing
Wicked Pt 1
** most likely to be swapped out depending on how they go down.
Best Director:
Sean Baker (Anora) Edward Berger (Conclave), Brady Corbet (The Brutalist), Denis Villenueve (Dune Pt 2. Definitely won't win but I think he'll be nominated). Not sure who the fifth person will be but probably someone directing a non-English film and/or a woman if the past few years continue the same pattern.
Best Actor:
Adrian Brody, Timothy Chalamet (for A Complete Unknown) Colman Domingo, Ralph Fiennes, and idk about the fifth show but maybe Daniel Craig or Jesse Eisenberg?
Best Actress (most competitive race ATL):
Karla Sofía Gascón (Emilia Perez), Angelina Jolie (Maria), Mikkey Madison (actually the only person I'm 100% confident about), Nicole Kidman (Babygirl). I'm going on a limb and guessing Saoirse Ronan might struggle to get in for The Outrun and I don't see Cynthia Erivo getting for Wicked, but I do see her being nominated at CC and Globes.
Best Supporting Actor:
Kieran Culkin (A Real Pain), Clarence Maclin (Sing Sing), Guy Pearce (The Brutalist), Denzel Washington (Gladiator II), and actually I'm going out on a limb and guessing that it might be one of the Anora guys but not sure which one. Or maybe Byran Tyree Henry for A Fire Inside? I don't see it going to Jeremy Strong for The Apprentice because of how contentious that movie is right now.
Best Supporting Actress:
Danielle Deadwyler (The Piano Lesson), Ariana Grande (Wicked), Felicity Jones (The Brutalist), Saoirse Ronan (Blitz, not The Outrun, and I think she'll compete in supporting), Zoe Saldana (Emilia Perez).
Best Original Screenplay:
Anora will probably win, but I think that actually if The Substance is going to be nominated anywhere other than Make Up, it'd be here. The Academy hates horror films for some reason but I'd like to see it get into something other than just Make Up.
Best Adapted:
Not sure what classifies here (is The Brutalist original or adapted?) so not sure. I think Sing Sing gets in here.
#lior liveblogs awards season#note: just because I think Grande might get in but Erivo won't is not what SHOULD happen#it is what I think is more LIKELY to happen#all of my Oscar predictions are that -- predictions or guesses -- not necessarily my personal choices#I haven't even seen all the movies on the Best Picture list bc some of them haven't come out yet but that's my guess#just based on patterns of how nominations have worked the past few years (there's usually at least one non-English film (Emilia Perez this#year)#the long historical epic (The Zone of Interest was both last year and there was also KOTFM#yeah I know Oppenheimer technically counts but I'd put that in...)#at least two blockbusters (Barbenheimer last year and both#Avatar 2 and Top Gun: Maverick the year before that#this year I think Dune 2 and Wicked Pt 1)#one small A24 film (Sing Sing this year and Past Lives last year)#and if there is an indie darling subversive comedy then that might end up there too or even win#(EEAAO the year before last Poor Things this past year and Anora this year))#but patterns can change so who knows?#the reason I think Grande might get in and Erivo will have a harder time is bc Best Supporting Actress is not that competitive this year#while Best Actress is maybe the most competitive race#also there is already an example of the academy being willing to nominate a supporting comedic role#over the lead with Barbie and Ryan Gosling getting nominated but not Margot Robbie#so they will do it#but I could be totally wrong it depends on how well Wicked does at the precursors
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secret crushes (one-shot)
summary: you've known hugh for years, having not only a personal friendship with him, but also a professional one. then, ryan decides to play matchmaker unbeknownst to you or hugh. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 4.5k warnings: this is complete filth bc how can you not look at that first photo and just be fine??? anyway - porn with little plot, unprotected p in v, public beach sex, seated cowgirl, oral - m receiving, light dirty talk, no use of y/n. a/n: this is for the anon who requested this spicy idea! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it. i haven't opened up my requests since 2017 (i think), but ya know, that might change after this lol. i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.
“All expenses paid,” you hear Ryan say over the phone. “You deserve a vacation. Even Blake agrees.”
“Ryan, no,” you protest, beginning to clean up your small coffee shop for the day. When you opened your own coffee shop so many years ago, you didn’t expect that not only would it be great business, but that you’d be very close friends with Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman.
“Oh, come on!” he says. “When was the last time you took time for yourself, hm?”
There’s a silence that engulfs the two of you.
Before you can even speak, Ryan chimes in. “Exactly. You’ll have your own hotel room. You don’t have to spend the entire trip with us, though, we will be hurt if you don’t hang out with us, and–” he teases.
“Okay, fine! Fine,” you huff. “I’m sure after Deadpool & Wolverine, you need some time for you and your family too.”
“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “I feel like I can be a good dad now.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “You’ve always been a good dad.”
“Eh,” he chuckles. “So, we’ll see you at the airport this weekend?”
“Sure.”
“Actually, we’re going to pick you up.” Ryan decides. “That way, I know for sure you’ll be coming with us.”
“God, you’re annoying!” you laugh. “Fine. I’ll see you and the family this Friday night. After I close up.”
“No, no. We’re leaving in the morning. Your coffee shop will be fine.”
“I know, it’s just–” you sigh, resting the phone between your ear and shoulder as you rearrange the bags of coffee on the display. Your mind drifts momentarily when you see the Laughing Man coffee beans, thinking about Hugh. “Nevermind.”
“You think too much,” Ryan points out then his voice turns serious for a moment. “You’ll be okay. Your shop will be okay. In the time we’ve known you – Hugh and I – you’ve always been working, busting your ass.”
“I know,” you then move your gaze to the amount of photographs on your wall behind the counter. They are photographs that you’ve taken, candid ones of your employees, landscape portraits of the trips you’ve taken to find the best coffee beans, even personal photos of you and your family and friends, including Hugh, Ryan, and Blake.
“So…” he says. “Pick you up Friday morning?”
“Yes, Ryan. You can pick me up Friday morning. You’re very convincing, do you know that? You just never quit until you get your way.”
“What can I say? I’m very persuasive.” He chuckles. “Okay, I’ll see you Friday. Have a good rest of your week. Call me if you need anything.”
“I’m sure I’ll see you and Hugh before then,” you tease. “At this rate, all this free coffee I give you does amount to a free trip.”
“Exactly! Talk to you later.”
—
You hadn’t spoken to Hugh in weeks, knowing that he and Ryan had been doing constant press conferences and interviews after Deadpool & Wolverine came out. You’d never admit it to either of them, but you did go out to watch the movie and it only fueled the crush that you had on Hugh. Especially that final scene. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t go home that night with thoughts filled of him. Shirtless and glistening. It was rather inappropriate, really. Not only did you and Hugh start out as friends, but you also had a partnership with him where he sells his brand of coffee at your coffee shop and takes a cut of what the sales make. It’s worked for years now and you never really looked at him in a way that was more than a friend or partner. You knew he was good looking, so sweet and funny, but it wasn’t until months after his divorce that you started to look at him differently. You had to wonder if he looked at you the same way because you started to notice how often he would come by when you were closing up to help you clean, or how his gaze on you would linger, his touches seemingly becoming more and more less friendly and more intimate.
You’re already on the plane with Ryan, Blake, and the rest of their family. It never felt like you were the odd one out. Both Ryan and Blake always made you feel like you were part of their family. There were plenty of times where you and Hugh would babysit Ryan and Blake’s children while they were busy and always, they’d ask for Uncle Hugh to sing songs from The Greatest Showman. You were always right there next to him, singing and performing alongside him to entertain the kids.
When you moved to New York, it was a big leap of faith. It wasn’t always easy, but Hugh, Ryan, and Blake made you feel less alone when there were times you weren’t sure you were ever going to make it out here. Now, you can’t even think of leaving New York. It has become your home. These people… They have become your family.
You look up from your notebook to see Blake and Ryan staring at you, both with big grins on their faces. You can tell they were hiding something, so you shut your notebook and point at them.
“Okay, spill.”
Ryan feigns a gasp, palms raising up in surrender. “Can’t my beautiful wife and I stare at you lovingly?”
Blake lets out a quiet laugh and rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re both really bad liars,” you point out. “What is it? Why are you both smiling at me like that?”
“We’re just happy that you’re finally taking some time to yourself,” Blake replies, moving to sit next to you.
“You’re much more convincing than your husband,” you say loud enough for Ryan to hear.
“I take offense to that,” Ryan says.
Blake turns to you and looks down at your notebook, tilting her head in amusement. “Even away from your coffee shop, all you can think about is how to improve it. Don’t you ever stop working?”
“Never,” you laugh, opening your notebook for her to look through. “Fall is right around the corner, so I’m just thinking of a few specialty drinks that I can introduce for a limited time. I hear pumpkin spice is very popular.”
You and Blake stare at each other and then erupt into a fit of laughter, both of you shaking your heads. “Can you promise me one thing on this trip?” she asks.
“I can try.”
“Try to have some fun, don’t think so much about work. It’ll be there when you get back. We’re in Hawaii for two weeks. Just–” Blake shrugs. “Be open and let loose.”
You arch an eyebrow. “I feel like there’s a hidden meaning there somewhere.”
“Oh, there is!” Ryan nods, a grin lining his lips. “Or is there?”
“The both of you,” you shake your head. “Are ridiculous.”
“Ah, but you love us,” Blake grins.
“Unfortunately,” you tease. “But okay, I’ll do my best. No work. No thinking about work. I’ll try and focus on being in the present.”
“Maybe you can meditate,” Ryan calls out. “You know, Hugh swears by it.”
Hugh. The mere mention of his name makes your heart flutter and you subconsciously bite your lower lip. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Blake who tries to bite back a smile.
“Yeah, maybe.” You stand up and then motion towards the bathroom, excusing yourself from both Blake, Ryan, and their kids.
Blake then turns to Ryan and grins. She whispers very quietly. “I think it’s going to work.”
“I sure hope so. Neither of them have any clue what we’re trying to do.”
“You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. They’re the only ones who haven’t seen it,” Blake says.
“Oh, Hugh’s seen it,” Ryan winks.
Blake chuckles. “Well, let’s see how this trip goes.”
“If it all goes well, they’ll be leaving together,” Ryan replies.
—
You’ve been in Hawaii for three days now. You’ve possibly spent every moment with Ryan and his family since arriving. You didn’t mind though. Being in their company helped keep your mind away from work, away from the responsibilities that await you at home, away from Hugh. Today, though, Ryan and Blake want to spend the day at a secluded beach to allow their kids to roam free and have fun without worrying about possible paparazzi.
You look at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a deep blue bikini set – a halter triangle top tied at the base of your neck and back, and a cheeky bottom with side ties that rest on the side of your hips – with a white, long sleeve cover-up. You take a few pictures of yourself, wanting to send it to Hugh or even post it on social media, but you don’t. Instead, you turn off your phone and set it inside your bag before you leave your room to meet Ryan and the family.
Throughout the entire ride to the island, Ryan and Blake can’t keep their eyes off of you. You busy yourself, though, with playing with their kids, hearing their laughter fill the car. You can tell they’re excited, jumping up and down in their seats as they talk amongst one another about the things they’ll do once they get to the beach.
It isn’t until you all arrive at the beach and climb out that you notice another car in the lot. Ryan had mentioned before that it would just be his family and you, so you had to wonder if maybe he had gotten something wrong along the way of planning this. But if you were concerned about it, he certainly didn’t show it himself. Instead, he climbs out of the car and grabs the kids’ bags from the trunk before he and Blake motion for you to follow them onto the beach. Your toes hit the sand as you slide your sunglasses on your face. You tell Ryan and Blake that you’ll be at a distance, allowing them at least some time to spend with their kids without you and it gives you enough time to try and meditate. Maybe it will work, you tell yourself.
You don’t see anyone else nearby and you’re at a good distance from Ryan and Blake, so you set down your towel and bag, removing your cover-up and sunglasses. You make sure to reapply more sunscreen before you walk towards the water. It’s cold and it causes a shiver to run down your spine, so you force yourself to dive in to get acclimated to the temperature of the water.
The beach had always calmed you down, kept you grounded. It was one of the reasons why you had been so hesitant to leave your hometown of California. From one side of the coast to another. Once you come back up, you run your hands through your wet hair, slicking it back away from your face as you stand, the water only reaching your upper thighs. When you open your eyes, though, your jaw drops.
Hugh is within a few arms reach as his eyes meet yours. The surprise look on his face tells you all that you need to know.
He had no idea you would be here.
And neither did you.
You can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. His broad chest, water trickling down his frame, disappearing into the waistband of his black board shorts. He’s pulling his shorts up just a bit, but it gives you a good view of the v-cut he has and immediately, you’re aware of the feeling between your legs.
But just like you’re checking him out, Hugh’s also allowing his eyes to roam over your frame. The bikini you’re wearing is so tiny and tight around your frame. He tries to tell himself not to get excited at the mere sight of you, but it’s hard. He’s getting hard, so he does his best to think of other things that could lessen his excitement.
Since his divorce, Hugh had taken comfort in your presence. What started out as a friendship turned partnership had blossomed into something else. Surely, you felt it too. Or at least that’s what he told himself.
“Hello, you,” he calls out.
The both of you begin walking towards each other, meeting in the middle as the waves crash around you.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you say softly. Out of instinct, you reach out to give him a hug, warms snaking around his shoulders. This feels good, hugging him like this feels fucking great. You feel his hard chest and hair against you. He’s so wet, so slick and you just want to–
“I think Ryan may have forgotten to tell us both,” Hugh says, voice deep and husky against your ear as his arms wrap around your waist. Hugh shuts his eyes as he feels your breasts against him, his fingertips resting just above your backside and he feels his manhood stir awake.
Quickly, Hugh pulls away, slowly lowering himself in the water to cover the growing erection between his legs and also to keep some distance between your bodies. You do the same, swimming further into the water as you both continue to float.
“And Blake,” you add. “You think it was intentional? You ask, turning to look over your shoulder to see both Ryan and Blake staring at the both of you.
Hugh looks over at them and lets out a quiet chuckle. “Dunno,” he answers. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” you blush, heat rising in your cheeks. “How long– How long have you been here?”
“Three days.”
“Those fuckers,” you chuckle. “They totally set this up.”
Hugh laughs alongside you and tilts his head in amusement. He watches you closely, seeing you gnaw at your lower lip nervously (it’s something he’s noticed about you very early on). You bring your hand up to stroke your hair back away from your face and Hugh can’t help but smile to himself. He likes you. Really likes you and he knows that he shouldn’t act on it, knows that there should be some boundary, but he can’t help himself.
“You nervous?” he asks quietly.
“What?” you answer, looking up at him. “No…”
“You’re doin’ that thing you do,” Hugh points out. He gently reaches out and runs the pad of his thumb along your lower lip, causing you to release it between your teeth.
“What thing?”
“You know what thing,” he chuckles, slowly swimming closer to you. “You bite your lower lip a lot when you get nervous or when you’re deep in thought. So, you’re either nervous or you’re thinkin’ about somethin’. Which is it?”
“Neither,” you lie.
Hugh narrows his eyes slowly and drags his thumb at the center of your lower lip and down to your chin until he hooks it in his grasp. “Now, I know you’re not someone who lies,” he begins, moving his thumb across your jawline. “Don’t tell me you’re lying now.”
“I’m both,” you blurt out, leaning against his touch. “I’m nervous and I’m thinking about something.”
“You’re always thinking about something,” Hugh points out. “Do I…” he asks hesitantly and drops his hand back into the water. “Do I make you nervous?”
“Right now you are.”
“Why?”
“Because…” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes. “One, we’re both basically half naked.”
“We’re at a beach,” he says with a small smile. “We’re in our bathing suits.”
“Half naked,” you correct. “And two, you’re just–” you stop yourself and drop your eyes to his lips then back up to gaze into his eyes. You then remember what Blake told you. Try to have some fun. Be open. Let loose. Now, you understand exactly what she meant by that. So, you let out a shaky breath and continue. “You’re just so fucking hot, Hugh, and yes, you’re making me nervous because you’re literally shirtless and wet, and you’re muscular and it’s just–”
Hugh’s laughter interrupts your rambling. You notice the way his nose crinkles upwards when the laughter comes deep within the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, you’re very aware that you just made a fool out of yourself and you gently shove him.
“It’s not funny! You asked and so I told you. I was being honest!”
“I’m not–” he sighs, his laughter dying down. “I’m not laughing at you, baby.” The term slips past his lips so effortlessly and he reaches out from underneath the water to grab a hold of your hip, pulling you to him. “I’m laughing because you think I’m hot to a point that you’re stuttering over your words. Have you seen yourself?” The smile remains on his lips and his thumb begins to rub circles at your hip. “Because if anyone should be nervous, it’s me.”
“You?”
“Oh, come on,” he says. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that I’ve got the biggest crush on ya.”
“Wait, you what?” your eyes slightly widen in surprise, but you can’t help the way your stomach flips in excitement.
“I’ve got a crush on ya,” he whispers. “And I shouldn’t even be having crushes at this age,” Hugh chuckles nervously. “But I do. I like you.”
“You’re not joking?”
“Why would I be joking?”
“Because you can have literally anyone you want and–”
“I want you.” Hugh says, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “Do you want me to?”
“More than you fucking know, Hugh.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your lips against him. You sigh against him moving your legs to wrap around his waist underneath the water as you move your lips against his own.
Hugh growls against you, both hands moving to your hips as he leans further into you, tilting his head to get a better angle of your lips. He didn’t realize this was how his trip was going to go. After Ryan convinced him to take some time off, especially after the success of their movie together, he was hesitant. He didn’t want to take time off. He was used to being busy, especially after his divorce, but Hugh had only agreed to come on the trip to figure out his feelings for you.
He just didn’t realize that you’d be here too.
In the distance, you and Hugh can hear a faint clapping and hollering. You both pull away to look over at the noise and see Blake, Ryan, and their kids jump up in excitement, cheering for the both of you. You see them wave in your direction before they begin to grab their things, making their way back to the parking lot. You then look at Hugh and gaze into his eyes.
“Are they leaving us? Leaving me?” You ask.
“I can take you back,” Hugh says softly.
You bite your lower lip and nod. “Only if it isn’t–”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if our hotel rooms are right next to each other,” Hugh chuckles, slowly then moving his hands down as he grasps your backside in his large hands, pulling you flush against him. His gaze darkens as he stares into your eyes. He thinks maybe he might have moved too fast, but when you roll your hips against him, he knows exactly what’s going to happen next.
You want him just as bad as he does.
“Hugh,” you whisper, voice laced with desire. “Please.”
“Tell me, baby.”
“I need you.” You bury your face in the side of his neck and gently nip at his skin, feeling his hands move under you, his long fingers brushing against your core as it causes you to gasp.
Hugh’s painfully hard against his board shorts and he lets out a low groan when he feels your teeth scrape against the skin at his neck. He feels you squirming against him, moaning into his ear and he has to pull away briefly to look into your eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“If I have to say please one more time…”
“I don’t mind hearin’ you beg,” he winks. “Come on.” Hugh leads you out of the water and towards his towel in a much more secluded area. You drift from him for a moment to grab your things before following him, watching him lay out his towel before he takes a seat on it, legs spread wide.
You bite your lower lip and lay out your towel in front of him, dropping to your knees as you crawl towards him until you're seated on your knees between his legs. “We won’t get in trouble, will we?”
Hugh shrugs, reaching down to cup your cheek. “Don’t think so. Ryan made sure that no one but us should be here and–”
“That’s good enough for me.” You lean down and move your hands to the waistband of his board shorts. He’s dripping wet from the water and you can see the outline of his length perfectly due to his shorts sticking to him. You hook your fingers into the waistband and slowly pull it down enough to see his length spring free. Hugh lets out a low groan of relief and reaches behind you to undo the knot at the base of your neck. Once loose, he watches your top fall open to reveal your breasts. He doesn’t have enough time to take in your newly exposed chest because your hand wraps around his base, soft lips grazing the head of his manhood.
“Ah, baby,” he growls, moving a hand to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as your mouth wraps around his tip. Hugh shuts his eyes and tosses his head back, moving one hand to rest on the towel while the other remains on your shoulder.
You look up at him, feeling an immediate possessiveness wash over you. He looks so beautiful like this, eyes shut, chest heaving, and at your mercy.
You begin to stroke his base as your tongue swirls around his tip, lapping at his precum. His groans slowly become louder as you lower your head to take more of him, stroking his base when you realize you can’t take him whole. He’s larger than you expected, girthy and long, and it excites you. As you continue to stroke him in time with sucking his length, you feel Hugh’s hand move from your shoulder to the back of your head as his hips slightly lift itself. He pushes himself further into your mouth, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly.
“Fuck,” he moans, eyes opening to look down at you. God, Hugh can just come at the sight of you. Tears slightly stinging the corners of your eyes and your mouth stuffed full of him. What a beautiful fucking sight, he thinks.
Slowly, Hugh has to pull away from you because he feels the pit of his stomach tightening, searching for release. He lets out a low growl that reverberates through his chest and you lean up on your knees, licking your lips. Hugh reaches out for you and pulls you on his lap, hurriedly moving your bikini bottom to the side. He grasps his manhood and runs his tip along your length, feeling your wetness coat him with each movement.
“You’re wet for me?” he asks, eyes staring up at you.
“Only for you.” you reply, eyes fluttering as you feel his tip slowly push into you. He releases his hold on his length and rests his hand on your hip, leaning down to press soft kisses against your chest before he moves onto a breast, flicking his tongue against your nipple repeatedly before he wraps his lips around it.
You let out a loud moan, moving your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your walls tight and wet sliding down his cock. You feel so full of him and he’s not yet fully in the hilt. The stretch is almost painful, but you’re so wet and throbbing that you have to stop yourself from slamming down onto him.
“Oh god, Hugh,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders as you move along his length, not yet allowing him to fill you to the hilt as your walls begin to make way for him.
Hugh moves his lips to your other breast, eyes staring up at you. He wants more of you, needs more of you so he slowly lifts his hips, inching further within your depths.
“Shit,” he groans, watching as his cock disappears into you completely. Hugh’s hands rest over your hips as you pull him closer to you, chests pressed against one another as you slowly roll your hips against his. “So fucking tight, baby,” he whispers against you, forehead resting on yours.
“You’re–” you gasp, feeling his hair at the base brush against your clit as you continue your movements. “So big,” you moan, eyes falling shut.
Hugh gently pecks your lips and takes a hold of your hips to guide you along his length. He watches you reach for his cowboy hat, placing it on top of your head and Hugh has to force himself to hold back his release.
“You’re so hot,” he moans, allowing you to take control of your movements. Hugh can’t help the way your walls tighten around his cock – you’re so warm and wet, so inviting and tight. He knows he’s close, but he can’t– he can’t finish without you finishing first.
“Baby,” Hugh whimpers, holding you flush against him in a tight grip. “Don’t– Fuck, baby, don’t move.”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, hands moving to link at the base of his neck. “You can come, Hugh.”
“No,” he shakes his head, losing his resolve as your hips move forward and backward slowly. “You have to be first– Shit…”
“This won’t be the only time,” you say reassuringly, lightly pecking his lips. You then increase your movements, hips moving forward and backward at a faster pace. Hugh’s so deep in this position and you know you’re close, but you’re determined to have Hugh finish before you.
“Sweetheart,” Hugh grunts. “Baby, I’m–” His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a loud groan, mouth slightly agape as his fingertips dig almost painfully into your hips. His release shoots inside of you, painting your walls as his manhood throbs within your depths.
He’s still half hard and you take this moment to begin bouncing along his length, using your hand to reach down between you to rub your clit and Hugh’s eyes narrow. He pushes your hand away and rubs your clit with his thumb in a circular motion.
Hugh feels possessive and almost animalistic at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. He can feel your walls begin to tremble and he’s still a bit sensitive, but you just feel so fucking good.
“Come on, baby,” he coos, applying pressure to your clit. “I know you’re there. Come for me, sweetheart.”
That’s all it took. Your walls tighten around his length as your body trembles against him. Hugh moves his hand to wrap his arms around your waist, leaning up to press his lips against yours. He’s still inside of you, his length softening as the moment passes.
You move your lips lazily against his, heavy breaths passing through the both of you as Hugh pulls back slowly. “Wanna head back to the hotel?” he grins.
“Oh, hell yeah.”
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfic#real person fanfiction#real person fanfic#real person fiction#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x fem!reader#hugh jackman x f!reader#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman oneshot#hugh jackman one shot
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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST
a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!
summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.
word count: 5.9k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.
NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST
He can hear it when he sleeps.
Their screams.
The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.
There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.
"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.
He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.
Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.
"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."
"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."
"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."
A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."
"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."
"Who?"
"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."
"Who the fuck is they?"
Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."
Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.
"Only when I swallow."
"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."
The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."
Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.
Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.
Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.
He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.
Nothing beyond that.
Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.
"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.
Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."
"Human–”
"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."
Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.
With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.
"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.
"Is it safe for her to own a car?"
The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.
"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."
He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."
The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.
Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.
"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."
He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.
The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.
"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"
Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.
Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.
All because he couldn't do his fucking job.
"Logan–"
He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?
He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.
A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.
His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.
Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.
The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.
"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.
A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."
He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.
"I can't say I've seen you around before son."
He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."
"Coworker huh?"
The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.
Complications which made living that much harder.
The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.
"You look lost."
Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"
"More than some of the others that come around here."
"And who comes around here?"
The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."
He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.
But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.
"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.
"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."
Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"
The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."
"Book night huh?"
"She loved to read."
Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.
"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.
"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."
A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.
You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.
He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"
"Travis."
Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.
"Nice to meet you Logan."
"Yeah you too."
He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.
Fighting meant he could ignore it.
Existing is what made it worse.
The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.
Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.
"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.
But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.
He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.
And there you were.
"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."
You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.
That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.
"Baby, it's me."
The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.
He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.
You saw him as a man.
Not a disappointment.
He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.
But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.
"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"
"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.
He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.
"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.
What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.
"You smell different."
You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."
Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.
"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.
"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.
But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.
Otherwise...what was the point of living?
"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"
"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.
He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.
You were afraid of him.
That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.
That...he couldn't live with.
"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."
Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"
"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."
Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?
He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.
"Did your sister have the baby yet?"
You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."
"Named Wade I hope."
Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."
"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."
Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.
He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.
"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."
"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.
Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.
He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.
Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.
"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."
"How do you know her?"
Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.
"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"
Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"
"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."
"Wade," he bit out.
"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."
"WADE!"
He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."
Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.
"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."
"Knew her? Or knew her."
He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."
Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.
You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.
"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."
"Neighbors."
Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."
Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.
If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.
"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"
His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.
Or so he believed.
"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.
Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.
"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.
You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.
"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."
Logan groaned. "Alright–"
"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"
Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.
"Marvel...Jesus right?"
"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"
Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."
"AND the Wolverine."
Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.
He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.
"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.
Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.
Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.
"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.
Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.
"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."
"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"
You smiled. "I'm just across the street."
"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.
"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.
Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.
The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.
"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."
He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.
Certainly not that he was Wolverine.
"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.
You started to walk. "In what way?"
His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."
"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"
He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."
The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.
"You said were."
Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"
"Were friends. What happened?"
The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.
He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."
"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.
A week before they came.
"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."
Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"
"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.
"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.
"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."
I'll always keep you safe.
Words he refused to say again.
How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.
Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.
"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.
Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.
He didn’t want to be saved.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett x f!reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x y/n#my writing
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Something About Him
There's always been something about Ryan. At least, Liam used to think so.
He never knew if it was his bright and fun personality, his gorgeous face or his top-notch body. I mean, really. Almost 6'2, with arms the side of his own head, pecs that hung out of his chest like tits, rock-hard abs, thighs that could crush a skull with ease and an ass that could put any of the Kardashians to shame. There wasn't anything else to expect, really. Ryan was one of the main jocks on campus.
And to be honest, almost everyone had a crush on Ryan. Even those who weren't really attracted to men, and the guy truly knew it. He was a total show off, parading himself around the halls in the shortest shorts possible, and when he wasn't wearing tight tank tops or compression shirts, he went shirtless, leaving his incredible physique on display all the time.
Still, it was weird for Liam to have a crush on him. He'd never been attracted to jocks or really built guys. His type was people like him; skinny, nerdy and shy guys. He found jocks and gymbros kind of annoying. They were always loud, smelly, dumb as bricks and with egos the size of a planet.
But even with all of that, he could never shake the feeling he would get every time Ryan would walk by him. He was so drawn to him. Always wanting to be near him, look at him. And very recently, he actually wanted to try hanging out with him, which was a crazy thing to think about. A little nerdy nobody hanging out with one of the most popular jocks? Complete and utter madness. However, he overheard a conversation between Ryan and one of his 'bros'. Ryan needed help with a literature essay. And now Liam was walking directly to his direction to offer him exactly what he needed.
"H-hi" Blurted out Liam awkardly, cursing to himself for sounding so embarassing. "Uhh, do I know you, bro?" Ryan looked away from his phone to look at the scrawny kid talking to him. "No you d-don't know me, but I was sitting by you in literature when I heard you say you needed help with your essay. I can help you if you'd like it" He said, starting to get that feeling again, like being close to him was making him lose his mind. "Really, bro? That would be so nice of you, what was your name, bro?" Ryan's eyes lit up. "It's Liam, nice to meet you" He extended his hand to Ryan without thinking, regretting it immediately after.
Ryan grabbed his hand and in a swift motion, he pulled him into a bro-hug. When he touched him, his mind went wild with desire. His skin seemed to burn with every second it touched Ryan's. He felt himself getting hard. Embarrassed, when Ryan let go of him, he covered himself with his bag, and sat down next to him to talk about the essay, trying to get his mind off of his unusual thoughts.
They agreed on meeting up in Ryan's dorm after classes so Liam could tutor him, or end up writing the essay for him, he wouldn't mind. As long as he could get to hang out with him, he could write essays for him for the rest of his life. He would give everything to be close to Ryan. And that wish, as he would soon find out, would be granted.
Liam was restless the whole day, counting every second of every minute of every hour until he could see Ryan again. When the day was finally over, he ran to his own dorm to clean himself up and grab some stuff that he needed for the essay. He ran to Ryan's dorm as fast as he could, wanting to spend the longest amount of time with him as possible.
When he arrived and knocked on the door, the door opened almost immediately after he knocked, almost like Ryan was also eager to see him. He was shirtless, wearing only some short shorts that left little to the imagination. Liam couldn't help but stare for just a second, just enough for Ryan to notice.
"You don't mind me being shirtless, do you bro?" Liam just stood there stunned, not knowing exactly how to answer, opting for an awkard "N-no, not at all. If you're comfortable like that, I don't mind" Ryan smiled with a faint malice, one that Liam didn't pick up on. "Come on in, bro. Mi casa es su casa or however it goes".
When he walked in to the jock's dorm, he saw the absolute mess that the guy lived in. Clothes hanging around everywhere, none of them looked particularly clean. His kitchen sink was filled with dirty dishes, and the kitchen itself was a mess of various stains, presumably from meal prep and even more dishes. After a second of taking what would be his work environment in, he started getting that weird feeling again. His mind started racing and going places he really shouldn't right now.
"So, should we start with that essay of yours? The faster we finish the earlier you can send it in, right?" He hurriedly asked to try and get those thoughts away as fast as he could. "Uhh, sure bro. We could work on it on the couch, it's the most comfortable place to work, I think" Ryan answered, sitting down and signaling for Liam to sit down right by him.
The nerd's heart skip a beat, the idea of being so close to the Adonis of a man in front of him making him go wild with joy. He sat down right there next to him and pulled his laptop out of the bag he brought with him and started talking to Ryan about the assignment and what exactly he needed to write about.
They (actually, mostly Liam) got to work on the essay. With the jock just watching Liam write down idea after idea in the form of fancy and long words. Honestly, the work would have been much easier for the nerd if the beautiful man in front of him would stop being so attractive for a second. He would get distracted from time to time looking at the guy's incredible body. And his mind could not stop thinking about him in every inappropriate way possible, and Ryan noticed this, knowing soon would be the time to strike.
Almost two hours went by when Liam announced that the essay was done. "You're done already, bro? It would've taken me weeks to write that on my own, huhu" Ryan chuckled dumbly, turning around to face the guy who just gave him an A+ and lifting his arm up to reveal a jungle of wiry dark hairs in his pits. Liam immediately locked eyes on the jock's pits and felt his mind go absolutely crazy with want, desire and need. "It really was n-no problem at all" He stumbled on his words, trying to hide the thoughts he was having.
Ryan smiled maliciously, knowing exactly what was going in the nerd's mind. "You're tripping over your words, is everything okay, bro?" He lifted his arm further, scratching his back. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. I s-swear" Liam's eyes were glued to the dark and damp paradise that was just in front of him. That's when he noticed the smell: sweet and appealing, yet kind of musky and salty. The same smell that, unaware of it, he'd been inhaling since the first time he came close to Ryan.
"You finally figured it out, didn't you bro?" Liam was startled, but still unable of doing anything but stare at the jock's pits "W-what? What do you m-mean?" Ryan just chuckled dumbly again "That little feeling you've been having all day? That would be my smell, bro. It has a special effect on everyone around me, it makes me completely irresistible to those who inhale it" The nerd's mind was steadily fogging up, leaving him confused about everything he was saying to him.
"You can't even think anymore, dude!" Ryan cackled loudly "It normally just makes you attracted to me for a couple minutes, maybe hours. But you've been taking it in for more than two hours, that's where the other part of it comes by. Your intellect is melting totally, bro!" Liam could barely understand anything the jock was saying to him, his mind focused totally on his pits.
"I think it's time for you to take it straight from the source. Come here, bro!" Ryan grabbed the back of Liam's head and pushed it towards his pit, successfully drowning the latter in his scent. In his dazed state, Liam could do nothing to stop him, he just inhaled every bit of the man's smell. His mind melting totally into a sea of pure want and desire for him, leaving no room for any other thought other than pleasing the jock.
His body started heating up, continuing the process further. "Woah! Already at the physical changes then?" He felt hot all over, like in an oven. Suddenly, a pressure appeared on his entire body, pushing it outwards like a balloon getting inflated. Only he was being filled with pure meat and muscle all around. His arms grew, filling up nicely with hard muscle to impress anyone he wanted to. His pits became sweaty and hairy like Ryan's, producing his own musky scent. His hands became big and callused from his time at the gym, veins spreading from them out to his upper arms.
His chest grew heavy with soft muscle that would work like pillows for anyone who layed on them. His nipples growing sensitive and perky, perfect for playing with. Ryan took a handful of the muscle-tits he just gave him, getting a nice moan out of the former-nerd that got muffled by his pits still covering his face. His core grew strong and wide, abs popping into existence until he had a nice and hard six-pack to show off.
Above, his face reshaped to that of a hot jock, becoming sharp and beautiful. His hair grew messy and fluffy. Like the one you would see in a popular influencer, perfect for grabbing attention everywhere and from anyone.
Below, his legs grew into tree trunks ready to pull, carry or push any weight necessary. His thighs turning into the ones of a guy who never skipped leg day: wide, strong and incredibly sensual. His ass started inflating with soft muscle that lifted him up of his seat, making the task of getting as much of Ryan's scent easier. His calves looked like the ones you would see in a football player, and his feet grew into size 13 soles to match the size of his new body.
Finally, his junk grew to incredible sizes. His balls filling with powerful seed worthy of a jock, and his cock grew harder and harder until it started growing longer and wider. He reached a nice 9 inch monster the width coming close to that of a beer can. Ryan grabbed onto his cock and drew another moan muffled in the jungle of his pits. He started stroking it, coming close to the climax of Liam's transformation.
Memories of straight A's and studying were replaced by evenings in the gym, making his body as desirable as possible. Nerdy friends and interests became nights drinking with his bros, watching sports and talking about their recent conquests and affairs. And finally, any attraction he had towards any skinny guys disappeared, turning into desire for other big guys like himself. Specially for his lover, Ryan. Who he'd met in the beginning of college and with whom he had hit it off right away.
He spent every moment of every day possible with him. Going to the gym with him, sharing classes with him. Practicing football with him and enjoying themselves in the showers after evey game and every practice. Actually, enjoying themselves at every opportunity they could, in the car when they went out to eat. In the college's bathrooms, in their dorm every night after a long day of getting buff for his man. Leaving messes everywhere they were, none of them cared enough for cleanliness or being proper. He was absolutely devoted to him, caring only for what Ryan thought of him and needing to please him in every way possible.
The thoughts of pleasing him made him tip over the edge, finally coming in his new jockstrap and gym shorts. The remainder of his old clothes torn and destroyed around him. Finally lifting his head up from Ryan's pit, to look directly in his eyes and smiling dumbly. "Had fun, dummy?" Ryan spoke first, giving his jock a loving and mischievous look. "Well what do you think?" Liam signaled to the mess in his jockstrap, getting a laugh out of his boyfriend.
"I could still do one more round, though" The former-nerd said, getting up from the couch and walking towards their room, letting his laptop fall to the ground. He was shortly followed by his boyfriend in a fit of dumb giggles and chuckles. He's sure now that there's something about him, and it's everything about him.
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Hello hello! this is my very first story, i've been lurking in the shadows in the community but never dared to get into writing myself until now. I don't know if i'm going to upload regularly or if i'm even going to continue posting, but I wanted to at least give it a shot.
All constructive feedback is appreciated, if I do continue writing I want it to be as good as possible. Hope you enjoyed!
#male tf#jock tf#mental change#male transformation#mental transformation#gay tf#himbo tf#nerd to jock#dumber#dumbing down#pecs#musk#armpits#male pits
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