#can you tell it's my first time doing shadows

[m0chisenpai]

Could you consider doing a fwb reader who refuses to be with them because she thinks that they are so toxic (but they are pinning over her HARD because i like my men obsessive over me)

(also i said "they" because i didnt knew who to pick 😭 but this just screams lestat or armand)

The hunt

˚｡⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader x armand

in which neither lestat nor armand can keep their eyes off box one

You joined the theatre after watching your maker burn to a crisp. Truth be told you would have done him in yourself had they not stepped in.He was ancient and delirious. You posed as his distant relative, some nights you were his niece, other's his heiress bastard. And in return you lived a comfortable life of luxuries.

Though you had to bear his unwarranted advances. His unwanted pet names, it all made your skin crawl. Tonight he said he needed to attend to his affairs, leaving you to explore the city. You made unnecessary puchases on his account. New gowns, jewels, head pieces for the upcoming season

When you arrived to your Paris manor to find it in shambles and the man burning amidst it all, all you could do was sigh and use his flames to light the cigarette while you watched him turned to ash. They were a gift from an ambassador. New unlike the tobacco pipes which you hated. You hardly flinched when the carriage boy screamed for help.

What were you to do now? His accounts were already settled in my name, but I liked this home.

"Your maker is no more fledgling" his presence startles you, but you stand your ground against the elder. Honeyed eyes watching yu concealed behind false glasses.

"I can see," you tap the ashes into the flames.

"He violated the ancients laws. He disrespected my coven."

"Coven?" Now he has your attention. You step up to him. "He never told me about laws, or others. Just said to tell him if I saw any more of us in the shadows."

He knows. He searched your mind fromt he shadows. Watching you shed no tears for your maker. All you could think of was no longer having to deal with him anymore. No longer were you forced to share his coffin, feel his disgusting hands. Armand felt your disgust, it churned his stomach.

He saw himself in your eyes. A hunger to learn more. He holds his hand to you, "come. Join us. And I can gurantee you will not suffer the same fate."

You stare at his hand, discarsing the cigarette next to you. "Will I truly?"

"Yes, come." There was a softness to his voice. You brought a nuturing side out to him he never knew was there. As he guided you back to the theatre, not once did his hand leave yours. You would spend the first night in his coffin, just in case he did try and kill you.

Armand presents you in front of the coven the next night. You found them off putting, but you would grow used to their presence.

"Lestat De Lioncourt, one of our actors and founding members," you bow your head to him but he takes your hand in his pressing a kiss to your hand.

"Will this beauty be joining us on stage Armand?"

"No, she will observe with me for the time being until she finds her place."

"Ah maitre, it is sin to hide such a beautiful face." He flashes you a cheky smile which you quickly brush aside.

"And I hope you put that charm to use on stage Mr Lioncourt" you retort stepping back beside Armand.

"You have a bite in you fledgling, don't lose it."

French boys. You can only shake your head.

They were all the same. Flowery words, thoughts of lust and poetry. Philosophy. Bu this blonde beauty, this one was different. No thoughts of heaven or hell, evil and good. No his thoughts intrigued you.

The first year you find yourself being a production assitant of some sort to Armand. You have your own quarters in the theatre. Filled with your gowns, jewels, your riches. You offer him input in changes, or adjusting scenery his scripts when need be. Always sitting in box one of the performances.

He won't admit it outloud but he felt you were the fledgling he was meant to make. Not your old maker.

His affections grew into something else. Was it romantic? No, vampires felt more than just human emotion. This was supernatural. Primal. As he sat in the box, he watched your gaze upon Lestat. You sat up straighter eyes wide with pride.

He wanted you to look at him like that.

"He's off script again," Armand clicks his tongue, he looks over to you.

"Yes, but don't you think it sounds bette this way."

"It would had he done it during rehersal." His eyes watch as your fiddle with the cuffs of your gown. He takes your hand into his own, now he has yoru eyes which look up at him.

"Yes?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to see your eyes for a moment fledgling."

"Are you growing soft Armand?" You smirk up at him, sitting up and tilting your head as to suggest you were to kiss him which he anticipates.

"The next act is starting" you whisper situating yourself to watch the performance. His eyes open, looking now to the stage, where Lestat bows smirking up at the box as you stand to join the applause.

You pace back and forth in front of Lestat who reads from his script. The coven look as dead as their hearts, the poor diva couldn’t get his line. He had been slacking lately as death, and he needed to improve for the upcoming performance.

You wouldn’t admit it, but he played death well. He was as vicious as death. But you needed death to have romance to it. Death was as beautiful as he was fearsome.

"Come now Lestat as though you are in love!" you exclaim. He reads the lline again but it sounds more...harsh than loving.

"Lestat surely you bedded enough women to know how to speak sweet love. Speak as though you wish to lure her, to drink her lust and her blood." You look up at him, he looks down upon you and in one big swoop pulls you to the stage.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea," he whispers it tenderly, his hand cups your cheek the other srill holding the script in hand.

"My love as deep; the more I give to thee,The more I have, for both are infinite." He is closer now. "How was that?"

"Better, now do it with your bride of death tonight." You whisper Walking past him into the wings.

Armand can't help but watch as you write at your desk, beside the new set of perfumes and fans he gifted you. He watches your lips move slowly. Your french has improved with hsi assistance. bUt you slip up, speaking in oor dialect as he calls it.

He feels a presence all too familar behind him.

"Shouldn't you be practicing your lines, puce."

"My apologies maitre," Lestat speaks in false humility bowong his head. "I wished to practice them with-"

"Unnecessary. I will be speaking with her performances and coven matters.”

“Ahh yes,” Lestat hums. Taking a bold step to stand beside Armand, who continues to watch your hand move with quickness across one of his scripts.

They don’t know, but you listen. You hear their thoughts. Desires to have you as their own. You know it. Felt it the moment both men entered your lives.

But no longer will you be held captive by another man’s desires. No, the fates of their hearts shall be in the palm of your hand this time. You give them your eyes looking at them now.

You smile, Lestat happily returns it. Armand merely bows his head to enter. He clearly has told Lestat something because he is gone in an instant.

For now, you’ll indulge them. Let them think they are winning. t’s fun when your food is unaware. That is what Armand tells you during one of your hunts. It makes the blood sweeter, and the hunt more invigorating.

Thus begins the hunt.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Oh, Sassy

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 3,610 Request: Anonymous. May I ask for Dean getting to know a car girl who is also a chef (like she loves food and stuff)? Take care of yourself and drink enough! Xx

“Y/L/N!” Your boss called out, making you slide out from under the car you were under. 

“Yeah?” You called back as you got up and made your way to his office. “What’s up?” Leaning on his door frame, you crossed your arms. “I was just finishing up Mr. Carson’s car. You know the one you jumped down my throat about this morning?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Your boss gave you a bored look. “This is Dean Johnson.” He sighed, motioning to the man sitting across from him. “New hire. He’s gonna be shadowing you while he gets used to the garage. Probably only a couple days.” He shrugged. 

You gave Dean a small wave. “Why me? I work odd hours because of the restaurant.” You reminded him. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to shadow one of the guys who are here all day?” 

“Nate’s last day is Friday, he’s moving, remember? Then Gage threatened the last guy I hired within two hours and made him quit. Kyle is…Kyle.” All you could do was nod at that, knowing exactly what he meant. Kyle was nice, but a bit out there. 

Sighing, you nodded. “Alright. Well, I’m only here for another hour. It’s up to him if he wants to help me on Mr. Carson’s car or meet me here tomorrow morning.” 

“I’m here, might as well start, right?” He smiled as he got up. “Nice to meet you.” Dean held out his hand for you.

You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N/N. Let’s go get started. Do you have something to change into?” 

He glanced at his clothes, then at you. “Should I? I usually work on cars in jeans and a t-shirt. Sometimes I’ll throw on a jumpsuit.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, we had jumpsuits when I first started, but we all got tired of wearing them.” You motioned for him to follow you to the car. “Right now I’m finishing up this old 1993 Pontiac Bonneville. Mr. Carson will be in first thing tomorrow morning to pick it up, so you’ll meet him then.” 

“You make it sound like he’s a grumpy old man.” He chuckled. 

“Sometimes.” You said simply, wanting to get back to work. 

Finally, you were clocked out and walking through the parking lot. You lived just a couple blocks away, so you didn’t bother to drive. You had an hour and a half to clean up and get to your second job. “Need a ride?” Came Dean’s voice, making you look over. He was standing next to a beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala. 

“Nice car.” You motioned. “But I’m good. I live a couple blocks away.” You shrugged. “Thanks, though.” 

“Anytime.” He said simply before getting in. 

The next day, you yawned as you walked in, downing a large Monster Ultra. “Those things will kill ya.” Dean told you from where he was leaning against the wall. 

“But it keeps all you guys alive after I’ve worked most of the night.” You gave him a sarcastic smile. “And why are you out here…and not in the garage? Are you in time out?” 

“Oh, sassy. Nice.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes. “Let me guess, you’ve been put in time out before?” 

“Gage got mouthy my first week here, so I might have superglued a couple of his tools to his bench.” You shrugged. 

Dean threw his head back, laughing. “Oh, that’s hysterical. My brother would do that to me. Don’t give him any ideas if you ever meet him.” He shook his head. “And no, I’m not in time out. I was told to wait out here for my ‘babysitter’ by one of the guys. He didn’t give me a name.” 

You nodded, motioning for him to follow you to the back. “That would be Nate.” You told him. “Bummed that he’s leaving.” He was a chill guy overall, and didn’t really get mouthy like Gage. And he was all there, unlike Kyle. 

“So, you said you worked most of the night. Second job?”

“Yeah, I’m a chef.” You finished your drink and tossed the can into the recycling bin. 

His eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re a mechanic and a chef?” Dean couldn’t tell if he was more surprised or impressed, then remembered hearing you mention a restaurant the day before. Now that made sense. “Couldn’t pick one?” 

Laughing, you pulled your hair into a pony tail. “Nope. I used to help my dad work on cars when I was a kid. He died when I was 13, and I kept it up. When I was 15 I got sick. I binged Food Network for a few days. I went to culinary school when I graduated. Couldn’t find a job as a chef right away, so I got a job as a mechanic right outside of town. After working there a year, I finally landed a job as a chef. Quit my other job. And that seemed to be okay for a bit, but something was missing.” 

“You missed being a grease monkey.” 

You nodded. “I really did. Started working here about 9 months ago. Bossman likes to get on my case. I think it’s because I’m the only girl, but he’s not a bad guy.” By now you were used to it, and just dealt with it. “What about you? What’s your story, Johnson?” 

“Traveled a lot as a kid, and kept it up after my dad died about a year and a half ago. Finally decided I was tired of it. So, me and my brother picked a spot to stay put for a while.” Dean knew he was omitting details, but he didn’t feel he was truly lying to you. How could he say he was wanted by the FBI? And that his family had hunted spirits up until recently? That his brother had psychic powers? He would be honest as much as he could, while keeping out other things. 

“Losing a parent is tough. I’m sorry for your loss.” You said honestly. 

“Y/L/N. Mr. Carson is here for his car!” Your boss called down the hall. 

“Coming!” You called back before glancing at Dean. “Ready to see if he’s a grumpy old man today?” 

You and Dean got along great, and you found yourself crushing on him as the days went by. He was easy to talk to, and it was nice to have a friend at work. A couple weeks after he started, you approached him at lunch. “Hey, De? I have a question.” 

He grinned at you. “De, I like it. What can I do for you?” 

“There’s this awards thing for all the chefs in the state this weekend, and I kinda don’t want to go alone…” You explained awkwardly. “I was wondering if you’d come with me?” 

“Like a date?” He licked his lips, clearly flirting with you. 

There was no way to stop the blush that formed on your cheeks. “I-if you’d like.” Why turn down a date with a fun, nice, and handsome guy? 

“Do I need a suit?” 

“Unless you have a tux.” You joked. “But a suit should be fine.” 

Dean sipped his soda. “Guess we’ll have to exchange numbers. I can drive. We can arrive in style. Unless you have a nicer car than Baby, which I doubt.” 

“I have nothing as pretty as her.” You told him. “Dinner will be served at the awards, as well, so we’ll be well fed.” 

“Do I get to try your cooking?” He was curious, that was for sure. 

You pretended to think. “Maybe on our second date.” 

Dean leaned against Baby as he waited for you downstairs. He stood up straight when he saw you come out. “Wow.” He breathed. “You look beautiful.” 

“You look very handsome, too. You didn’t have to rent a tux, though.” You smiled. 

“It’s an awards thing, right? Gotta look good.” He brushed over the front of his jacket. “And clearly I needed it because you look… wow .” It wasn’t like him to be this speechless, but he was so used to seeing you in a tank top and jeans. He was used to seeing you with grease all over you, your hair pulled up out of your face. “Shall we?” He moved to open the door for you. 

Smiling, you stepped forward. “We shall. And hey, maybe you’ll be a good luck charm and I’ll win an award.” It would mean a lot to you if you did. 

“Hi, Dean, come in.” You opened your apartment door for him. The date to the awards had been a blast, even if you didn’t win anything. When he dropped you off after, you kissed his cheek and asked him out on a second date for the next night. Dinner at your place. 

His face lit up when he saw you. “Hi, sweetheart.” He greeted you. “Oh, these are for you.” He held out a bouquet of flowers. 

Smiling, you took them. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” You shut the door behind him once he was inside. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer, water, soda, milk?” 

“Beer. Thank you.” He looked around your living room as you went to put the flowers in some water and get him a beer. “So, something smells amazing.” His mouth was watering. 

“Thank you.” Handing him his beer, you sipped your own. “Baked potatoes are almost done, and then I’m making some steaks with butter garlic onions. Then, for dessert, homemade cherry pie.” 

“Love me some cherry pie.” Dean winked. “Sounds delicious, sweetheart.” One perk about staying in one place was not having to microwave his meals. “Maybe for our next date I’ll have you over for burgers. I make a mean bacon cheeseburger. I’m sure I can tell my brother to scram for a few hours.” He was already mentally planning a few dates for the two of you, wanting to spend as much time as he could with you. He pictured taking you to the movies, out to eat, to the beach, and to the fair. Maybe walking away from hunting was the best thing that happened to him because he’d met you. 

You smirked at him. “What? Are you worried your brother is more charming than you?” You teased him. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “More like I don’t want my baby brother around while we’re on a date.” He countered before taking a swig of his beer. “Want any help?” He asked when your timer went off. 

“Sure. Can you get the cheese and sour cream from the fridge and put them on the table? And how do you like your steak? Warning: you say well done and I’m kicking you out.” You gave him a playful look. You couldn’t help it, he made you feel fun . 

“You wound me. Do I look like the kind of douche that would order ‘well done’?” He put his hand on his chest. “Medium-rare, thank you.” 

“Good boy.” You winked before heading to start the steaks. Hearing Dean groan lightly, you giggled to yourself. 

One year from the date of that awards show, you were moving into the house that Sam and Dean rented. You got along with Sam, and had no problems with him staying. If anything, you felt it was a really good idea. Because you had two jobs, there were technically four incomes for one home (also, because you worked two jobs…you did the least amount of housework, only doing it on your days off). “That was the last box.” You grinned as you saw Dean coming down the stairs. “I am officially all moved in.” 

“Awesome.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Sammy has to work until 5, so he said he’ll meet us for dinner.” He took the box from you and went to take it upstairs. 

“So, this means we have a few hours to ‘celebrate’? Just us?” You followed him, eyes on his butt. “I work tonight, so right now would be perfect.” 

“I like how you think, sweetheart.” The two of you just seemed to fit together perfectly. 

“I’m home!” You called out as you shut the door behind you. 

“You’re early.” Dean glanced at the clock. “Like…4 hours early. What’s wrong?” He saw the look on your face and rushed to you. 

You sniffed. “Uh, remember Darla?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, the older waitress that told you she wanted to pinch my cheeks? Everything okay?” 

“She didn’t come in for her shift tonight, which is really unlike her. She has never missed a shift without calling, and even that’s rare.” You started. “So we sent Jimmy, the busboy, to check on her.” Your voice broke. “Poor Darla…Poor Jimmy.” 

“Baby, what happened?” 

“Her door was busted in. And sh-she was dead. Brutally killed.” He pulled you to him, holding you tight as you cried. “We closed early for the night, and the cops came to talk to everyone before we got sent home.” 

He hated that you were hurting, but beyond thankful that you weren’t the one that went to check on her. You didn’t need to see something like that. “Do they have any idea who killed her?” 

You shook your head. “I asked one of the officers how she died. The look on his face…” You breathed, pulling away slightly to look up at him. “He said he’s never seen anything like it, and if he didn’t know any better, that a bear got her.” 

“A bear?” He furrowed his brows. 

“That’s how bad she looked.” Letting out a breath, you stepped back. “I’m going to take a hot shower and take a couple sleeping pills.” You kissed his cheek softly. 

He nodded, rubbing your arm. “I’ll be up shortly.” Sam was supposed to be home from work soon, and wanted to talk to him about this. Something in his gut told him his two years in town were coming to an end. He watched you slip off your shoes and then make your way upstairs. He’d stay and grow old with you if he had the choice. Part of him had let himself dream about an actual future with you. The two of you working on Baby with a little you. Him watching you teach a little him how to properly chop on onion. Clenching his jaw, he forced down the tears. 

“Dean?” Sam paused in the door. “What’s going on?” 

Looking at his brother, he didn’t have to say a word. He saw that Sam understood what was going on. Sam knew that them living away from the supernatural was over. He was angry enough that he was losing his apple pie life, but even angrier that Sam was losing his. His baby brother had really just started letting his guard down in the last 6 months or so. Just in time for it to blow up in their faces. 

Dean jerked awake when his phone rang. “Hello?” He yawned as you shifted besides him. “Bobby?” He sat up. Dean had called him now and then to check in, but Bobby never called him. 

“You still in that town you told me you settled in?” 

“Yeah, we are.” He said softly, glancing at you before slipping out of bed. He didn’t want to risk waking you up. 

Bobby sighed. “Been hearing rumors from the town about half an hour away. Sounds like a crossroads demon.” He warned him. “I don’t know if it ever went your way…”

Dean groaned. “It has.” He knew that was what tore Darla apart. “Y/N/N’s coworker must have been one of them. She came home upset, and I can’t blame her. Darla was always nice.” He ran a hand over his face. “We had planned to keep an eye out just in case.” 

“Not gonna lie, was hoping it woulda passed your town by.” Bobby told him. 

Standing in the kitchen, Dean looked out the window into the backyard. The same backyard that you had just been lounging in the day before, in the bikini you’d bought just to wear for him. “Maybe it’s a sign, Bobby.” He said, letting his emotions show. “Maybe it’s a sign I need to get out of town. What’s next? Werewolves? Vampires? I can’t let her die.” 

“Dean, you’ve been there two years.” Bobby pointed out. “In those two years I’ve heard you happier than I ever have before. You’ve sounded more alive than ever before.” He was clearly trying to talk Dean out of leaving. “That woman loves you! And from what Sam says, she’s perfect for you. Walk away now, and you’ll always wonder what could have been.” 

“What happens if we decide to have a family one day, and then something comes after them? What if I can’t protect them?” 

“Boy, that’s a question every parent has. To this day I wonder the same damn thing! You boys might be hunters, but you’re my boys. At least think about things.” 

Sighing, Dean closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bobby. We’re leaving.” 

Waking up, you rolled over to cuddle Dean, but he wasn’t there. “De?” You blinked, slipping out of bed. Usually, if he couldn’t sleep, you could find him in the garage, so that’s where you went. “De?” 

He whipped around, blocking the trunk. “Baby?” He had clearly been crying. 

“What’s going on? What the hell is that in your trunk?” You moved over to look. “Why do you have so many weapons?” Your eyes went to him. “Why were you crying?” 

“Let’s go inside to talk. Sammy, why don’t you go start packing my clothes?” He glanced to Sam, who was off to the side. 

“Why does he need to pack your clothes?” Why weren’t you getting any answers? You pulled your arm from him as he tried to lead you away from Baby. “Talk to me!” 

“My name isn’t Dean Johnson.” He swallowed. “My name is Dean Winchester, and up until I moved to town…Sammy and I traveled the country hunting things.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Hunting things? Like deer?” 

“I wish.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Vampires, ghosts, demons, wendigos.” He listed. 

Blinking, you tried to let that sink in. “You’re telling me that’s all real?” You stared at him. “Say I believe you, why leave now? Why try to leave in the middle of the night?” 

“Because Darla was killed by a hellhound. She must have made a crossroads deal and her time was up.” He explained. “It was a wake up call. We can’t escape that life.” 

“You’re leaving me, us, because someone else was killed?” Of course you cared about Darla, but what did she have to do with your relationship with Dean? 

“What if the next thing that comes through targets you?” 

“By that logic- you running away from your girlfriend is running away from protecting her!” You countered. “What if something comes through, and you aren’t here? What then, Dean?!” 

“Us being here is like a beacon. Bad things just follow us.” 

You shook your head. “So, what the hell was the last 2 years? What bad happened then?” You locked your eyes on his. “What ‘bad thing’ followed you over these past 2 years?”

He looked down. “Nothing.” He admitted. “They were the best 2 years of my life. I let myself hope for things that I can’t have.” He managed. 

“Who the hell says you can’t have them? I’m here, aren’t I? I love you, and I think I’m pretty fucking good!” You threw your hands up. 

“Sam got out once. Had the apple pie life. It got his girlfriend killed.” He told you. “I can’t let that happen to you. I love you too much.” 

Clenching your jaw, you stepped closer to him. “So don’t let it.” You said firmly. “Teach me.” 

Dean whipped his head up to stare at you. “What?” He breathed. 

“Teach me. I’m a fast learner.” Your heart was pounding in your chest. “We stay right here while you teach me anything I have to know. I’m sure there’s a way to make this house safe, right?” He nodded a bit. “Then we do that. I’ll quit my job as a chef, and we keep working. All three of us. You teach me until you think I know what I need to know. Then we can leave.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that. You have a life here.” The pain couldn’t be hidden from his eyes. “You don’t want to live motel to motel. Eating shitty food and sleeping on crappy beds.” 

You cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile. “You know why I want to do this?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I love you too much to let you walk away from me.” You kissed him softly. “I can’t see my life without you. We all have some money put aside, and we can put even more aside between now and when we leave. That’ll get us a couple nicer motel rooms now and then, right?” 

Dean looked in your eyes, wondering how the hell he got so lucky to find you. “You believe me?” 

You took a breath. “Mostly.” You admitted. “It’s a hard thing to wrap my head around, but I’m sure as you tell me more, and as you teach me- I’ll come around.” Your heart told you to trust what he was saying. “Please, let’s go back inside, tell Sam to stop packing, and talk.” 

“You won’t hate me for taking you from the two things you love? Cooking and working on cars?” 

“I’d hate myself for letting you walk away.” 

[dearsaintavangeline]

Routes I Would Want For Damian Wayne's Character(because I desperately dont want him to become Batman)

1) TRAVEL ROUTE

• in my opinion, Damian's travel arc was really short. I was actually expecting it to be longer but instead he came to Gotham earlier.

i think travelling, learning new cultures, meeting new people would be better for Damian's character as he is seen to be always confused about who he is and who he wants to be.

one of his main things about Damian's character currently is him being confused about who he is and him not wanting to live under his parents shadow(which is why im not happy with the "damian is a mini bruce" or the "father like son" agenda they keep pushing in the comics but i will tak about that for another day)

if damian was away from his family like be was in the lazarus island, i think he have a better chance at finding out who he is because he is seperated from what others want him to be. also everything would be funnier imo

maybe Nika would join him and we could see Nika panicking about how to break the "Ra's al ghost" issue to him while Damian is just happy to have Nika with him. or we can have Suren&Damian&Maya trio(or dnd trio as me and my bff call them) reunion that would be so fun.

> my point is, I dont think Damian is meant for Gotham. I dont think Gotham is the route for him

2) SEPARATE VIGILANTE ROUTE

• I have seen SO many things about Damian creating his own persona, a one that he is comfortable with and i absolutely love the ideas even if its not my favourite one

shadowbird/blackbird/redbird/ghoul/caracal etc.. i have seen SO SO many things but i think "Shadowbird" and "Caracal" is my favourite one by far.

Shadowbird both follow his father side of the familys "bird theme" and his mother side of the familys "shadow theme" and in that sense i really like it.

i love Caracal because its really ironic considering caracal is a feline type creature and isnt on theme with the rest of his family😭😭 i find it funny

all of the names are very very nice and lovely imp i love all the original concepts!!

3)MEDICAL ROUTE

• i have two ideas for this one so i will separate them to make them easier to read

1)) nearly everyone knows this one. Its damian becoming a vet. i REALLY love this idea. I also love him moving to a cottage and opening up a clinic there. or maybe a farm too!!

2)) the second one is damian becoming a doctor.(surgeon to be exact) The reason for this idea is comes from him being a doctor to save lives to make up for the ones he ended.(since being a doctor is a very time consuming job so this kinda implies him stopping being a vigilante)

4)CIVILLIAN ROUTE

• I think one of damians main problems with not knowing who he is comes from the exceptations he has placed on himself because of the mantles/titles he had gotten in his life.(son of the demon/bat, heir to the demon, future batman, demonhead, robin etc..) if he were to be separated away from these he would at first maybe be confused with what to do but it would be better for him imo. i think he really could be in peace with himself if the civillian route were the case.

also there is something really sweet about him leaving the life of violence/fighting behind him considering his whole life has been filled with chaos.

i would love him being roomates with one of his friends(either Colin or with his cousin and brother Mara and Respawn)

5)ART ROUTE

• this one is a route where he goes to an art school in bludhaven(dont ask me why bludhaven it mostly because its a canon event for nearly most batkid to live there at least once) and becoming an artist!!

>>> If you have a route for Damian please tell me i love reading about damian!! <<<

[wakacreations]

Raphael: I Am Always Waiting

Author's Note:

I saw this neat animation by @smnc45. I do not write Raphael often but I wanted to try my shot at their prompt.

Prompt:

Can someone please write Raphael x reader angst where they’ve been married for like 50 years and now it’s time for reader to pass on and they’re having this bittersweet moment together in reader’s final moments

Word Count: 2935

Summary:

The cat and mouse game has come to an end. When the mouse's time draws near who came out victorious?

It is almost that time again when a devil would celebrate the most joyous occasion. When a thumping of a heart becomes a precious coin. Currency to pocket, to twiddle between one's claws and to eye at the brilliance of its metallic polish. The great tragedies within these circular vessels tell tales to other archdevils of the beautiful follies of man. What depraved sacrifices they would make out of their own hubris. I have acquired many a coin through my millennia. There to amass my strength in the hells but I have grown fond of a few in my possession. There is but one that awaits, a soul coin that holds my palm so dear. I find you laying on your death bed.

You were but a mere mortal for some unforeseen circumstances were chosen by fate to be a tadpole inhibitor. It would be easy for I to acquire such a desperate soul. You truly were desperate you know. I watched from afar to see you squirm. You did shop around quite a bit before you accepted your only option left, mine. There were the words of a lullaby from Cormyr that I spoke to you when we first met. In those times, I called you mouse and I the fox but these days you call me a domestic house pet, a cat. You are lucky that I am quite fond of such creatures. Dogs are duller but I thought through your journey you would become one. You do look lovely chasing after my heels. Whether it be for that spawnling or that little swindler of a tiefling girl, you were adamant she wouldn't be in good care. Like an irritating pest, you entered my sactome where you do not belong despite your agreement to meet at Sharess’ Caress. You left quite a bit of chaos in your wake. Your flowing locks looked beautiful against the emerald glow of my pillars. Even now as you have aged so gracefully. I pluck a hair back behind your ear. 

“You had every right to kill me on that day.”

There were tears in your eyes as you resheaved your blade. Was that pity you showed me back then? You brought mercy on me as I was prone at my own door. You jumped through the portal with Hope and Mol’s contract in hand with not even a glance back. I am but the big bad devil in those fairytale stories you listen to when you slumber.

“I could never be anything more,” pulling back my hand.

Those all too familiar taunting eyes that stoked my obsession were before me. There is not anymore of you left in that feeble mind of yours. “You never did give me that crown I desire,” I chuckled dryly. You blinked at me trying to recognize these human features of mine.

“You spent the good first ten years running away from me, mouse.”

Through the hells you searched for the cure for one of Zariel’s warmachines and the “Blade of Avernus” close behind.

“All you needed to do was ask and we could have cut another deal.”

The next ten you were off in the Underdark away from the sunlight. You and that Spawn were off to find a cure. You knew I was still waiting for you as you felt my infernal heat lurking in the shadows. I held the artifact of your sole desire for your little “friend”.

“I could have dragged you into the Hells against your will, you contemptuous creature. You went willingly for that decade only in exchange for his precious sunlight!”

You just smiled at the words I uttered. Even when I had opened my doors for you, my House of Hope. Yet, you chose to find any means of escape for that time you spent with me in the Hells.

“I allowed you to rest in your own company in Faerun. I do take care of my pets.” I closed my eyes.

You wandered through the material plane with no company but my watchful eyes. The ten years you spent there, you looked so peaceful but what joy it was to tear you away from it all.

“You asked me to form one last contract with you. When your time ran out on your home plane.”

Your words echoed in my mind like an accursed song.

“I will show you why devils obsess with mortals. Why you yearn so desperately to chase me through the planes?” You looked up at the sky as you laid in a field of wildflowers. You never looked so at ease for as long as I watched you. “That's quite a presumption on your part, little mouse. I know when something or someone is of value,” blocking your view of the clear skies above. “Make this contract with me and in exchange my time will end as fate decides.” You reached your palm out to me. There is still that tenaciousness in your eyes. “What do I gain out of this exchange? It seems you think contracts are only for your benefit? Make me an offer I can't refuse.” I leaned down to get a better look at you. You waved your arm waiting for me to shake it. You never grew out of your childish ways have you? “Aren't you curious, Raphael? What is life's value to a mortal? You know the answer to. What is life's value to an immortal? Maybe I would change your mind? You would have my soul coin for all eternity, no?” You smiled that mischievous grin as such from the day you inked your name on our first contract. Your small hand wrapped in my heated infernal clawed grasp.

I have watched your struggles and your despair on the long nights on your journey. The begging to your companions to stay right of justice when uncertainty lies in wait for them. The screams of agony of whom you rescued meeting their untimely destined fate. The endless slaying of the army of the Absolute who set to cause chaos to your home, Faerun. The chosen three all prone to your blade but when it came time to pay your dues for a sacrifice to be made I answered your call. You couldn't stand by and become a mindflayer. Yet, you put that horrible image of tentacles caressing your body in the forefront of my mind out of fear of what is to befall you. There was luck I still held use for you when I put the Orphic Hammer in your palms. I reopened my eyes.

"You owe me more than you are worth." I restoked the fire when a little sneezed escaped you.

We have two different minds when it comes to being a savior. Your body is still riddled with scars as you take in your shallow breaths. I could have kept you the way you were before. I turned my head away from the sight of you now. Korrilla kept updates on your whereabouts after the fall of the Netherbrain. You still sacrificed yourself for those companions who've left nothing for you in return. There is a madness to you, mouse but perhaps is there abyssal that runs through your family's line?

“A debt is still owed by you, little mouse.” I attempted to coax a reaction out of you.

How many times must I catch you out of the clutches of Kelemvor? Day after day I watched you writhed in pain for unnecessary sacrifices you've made. Do you choose to run after death so eagerly? Withers, your Jergal will not be bringing you back! In the Hells, I helped vanquish Zariel’s forces when you scurried into her forges. I presented you with the means to free your darling, Astarion. I turned a blind eye when you still chose to meet with the other companions in your “solitude” in Faerun. What mouse could you show me what I haven't already known? What am I an immortal being could I experience that I haven't in my entire existence? You have proven to always surprise me.

“This last contract with you will be the death of me. I spent decades chasing you but I could enjoy this last one. We would make for such a great tragedy that would be played throughout the Nine Hells.”

For the last time you grabbed my hand into your own. You kept your promise and your word.

On the first night, you whispered such sweet words that could rival the burning alluring taste of succubi/incubi spittle. Was it because you have accepted your fate? When sleep cradled your head you sang a lullaby of your restless heart. Let your tears fall. There will be no other who will witness them. One night I overheard a confession in the privacy of the company of you and that Astarion many moons ago. “I like him too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face.” Was such a thing true, little mouse? I watched as you stirred in your sleep. I left you that morning in your final home called Hope. 

Time is but a blink to the eyes of the Hells. I took you to see all I could offer you and what otherworldly indulgences mortals have spent with the precious coin they held in their chest. We watched a theater production of the Netherbrain and the valiant heroes who sought its demise. I had to jostle you from your insistent snoring. There you gave me your signature glare. I would admit the production does not do it justice. We fought and bickered like time never moved. 

You are quite frail these days. You got winded as we passed by the taverns you used to haunt. I asked you if you would make an addendum to our contract but you politely declined. Time will catch up to you as I eyed them. My, what former shadow you are now mouse?

You have been coughing as of late. You waved it off saying you were fine. The air in Avernus is not suited for those of sensitive lungs. I summoned forth a cleric to see to your care. You argued with me for the first time in a long while. I almost assumed the great savior of Baldur’s Gate was reduced to such a sorry state. I must have been mistaken.

The cleric came to my office to give their report. Our dwellings will need to be mended for you to exist in my home. They suggested a visit to Faerun will improve your recovery. I asked you at lunch, where do you plan to visit this evening? You would come back to the same conclusion… Baldur’s Gate. I don't blame you. The scars of that parasite did ingrain into you where you are supposed to be.. but you are free to go anywhere, now my dear. You still insisted that is where you wish to spend your time. By all means as we reappeared in the city square.

Your mind has been wandering for quite some time. You asked what had happened to your companions. Were they alright? Those would be appropriate questions if not for having conversed with them a moment prior before. If I knew you would start babbling like one of my debtors, I would have put having a sound mind as part of a clause. It was time for dinner but you still refused. You said I poisoned you whenever you ate. I made it clear time and time again it was to keep you in sound mind. You screamed at me. You wouldn’t become a mindflayer! I held you close and stroked your hair as you weathered another one of your fits again. I felt your tears soak through my doublet when I carried you to bed. Is this how you truly wish to spend the rest of our days, mouse?

How could you smile so sweetly on our final day together?

“You know, I have truly come to despise you.” Your hand squeezes my own.

“You do not recall half the words I utter!” I felt the hellfire coating my palm. You didn’t pull your hand away from my own when the flames threatened to engulf you. You wailed in agony but still you did not let go.

“What is the value of a life to an immortal?” Your words that day came back to my mind.

“Where has time gone?” For the first time my voice had wavered, the hellfire dissipated. You pulled my hand over your heart.

“You know my precious cat, devils love a good chase. If I were to give in to you long before, would you have obsessed with me just the same?” There is that giggle that rings like church bells.

“You never gave me much choice in the matter, little mouse.” I growled at them. Something rattled in my chest. What is this foreboding feeling? Tears streamed down your face. I couldn’t help but press my forehead against yours. How can such an insignificant being be so cruel.

“Open your eyes, mouse! Let me see you!” Your eyelids fluttered open. What was this feeling clawing at me?

”I gave you the freedom to choose the only option you had left,” you sniffled. Who were you to decide on when we should part? I couldn't take this anymore.

“Ask for anything, mouse and I will bring you life.” I felt their heartbeat slow beneath my palm.

“You wouldn't want that Raphael. You only desire the truth.” You shook your head.

“What do you know of me! You know nothing.” I should stop this accursed thing’s beating. You winced at my words.

“Raphael? Did you enjoy our time together?” You asked tentatively. You won't slip away, mouse.

“Of course, why wouldn't I have?” No, I had not enjoyed any of this charade but yet I told you otherwise.

“Good, I am glad. I am sorry for the amount of heartache I will leave you with. There is a reason why mortals are an indulgence to your kind.” Your voice cracked. The water works started anew.

Don't you dare, mouse..

“We make seconds seem like lifetimes. We make life meaningful in the mundane. We leave our mark that would be remembered for a millennia if we're lucky,” you smiled.

Don't you dare keep speaking.

“You know mortals can be like devils?” Your breathing slowed to a crawl.

“Demand anything, mouse and you will have it.” You didn't listen to a word I said. 

“Mortals can be obsessive too, you know? I think there is something wrong with me that I spent the last four decades running from them. I think their name is Raphael.” I smothered you in my arms.

“Stop with your babbling!” You still continued on.

“He is there watching me wherever I go. You know I never had anyone that would go to such lengths to get my attention.” That wasn't true mouse, all of your companions fought desperately for your attention. I squeezed you closer to my chest.

“Maybe I am insane for trying to maintain the obsession of a devil but.. I have known humans who are more devilish than the one at my heels.” I couldn't help but chuckle.

“You are not insane but just a foolish mortal. You all are in the end.” I whisper in your ear. Why do you only speak your truths now? You pushed me to loosen our tight embrace. I could feel you slipping away. Your time is near.

“I cannot let you do this mouse. I am in control of your soul.” What a beautiful coin it would make for my collection. You are nothing but my possession! That is what you solely are.

“But you know I wouldn't be me left. Your obsession with me will end on this day.” You held my head in your worn palms.

“I will tell you the truth, you longed to hear.” Blood rushed to my eardrums. Was this truly what I yearned for? Was this the way I wished to earn your coin? Your fingers ran through my hair. You cleared your throat. Your eyes never wavered from mine.

“I like him too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face,” you choked out. Stop! Just stop, mouse! With ferocity our lips danced for one last time. Why must death's kiss taste so bittersweet? Our tears intertwined. My hand raised to cradle your head.

“I will not let you get the best of me,” as I pecked away your tears. I felt your tiredness in my arms. Your head nestled into the crook of my neck.

“We can make more time,” I pleaded. How far have I fallen? What was this emptiness? Why did it have to take your end for you to confess, Tav? I stroke your hair while you let out the last of your cries till silence fell over you.

“This won't be the end.” Your body settles against my own.

“Say anything! Something you pipsqueak!” My voice no longer sounded like my own. What have you done to me? I placed one long hard kiss at your temple. Something shattered from deep within.

“How could you not desire to live?” I choked on my words. I felt a sheer coldness that ached from within you. Mortals won't survive if they are cool to the touch. You no longer fought when I pressed you to my chest till you could feel the beating of this infernal heart of mine. You needed to feel warm again. The fires have long since extinguished. Loud inhuman wails echo in these empty grand halls.

“You are mine! Now and forever. For all eternity, my precious little mouse.”

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh how about yandere scenario where Macaque grows obsessed with the platonic female travel healer reader who’s also a monkey demon , who was around him when he came back from the dead, and nurse him back to health, but what if reader had to leave after his treatment was done👀 (if you want to include a prompt , maybe 1 “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” From ddarker-dreams)

I assume you meant they're both platonic with each other and not just the obsession being platonic. Either way, I struggled on this plot-wise... but I hope it came out okay.

Familiar Face

Yandere! Platonic! Macaque with Healer! Monkey Demon! Darling Scenario

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Possessive behavior, Macaque has a thing for scents, Kidnapping, Forced companionship.

Macaque was a face you haven't seen in a long time.

You already knew of him, as a fellow monkey demon you naturally knew of the others. You were on friendly terms with Wukong and Macaque when the two got along with one another. Yet after their falling out, and Macaque being sent to the Underworld to suffer, you took up the job of a wandering healer.

While Wukong became a hero as the Monkey King, you wandered the lands helping those in need. Many knew you as a helpful monkey demon compared to your more mischievous compatriots. Always finding those in need to help... before leaving on your way again.

You've had many patients. Human and demon alike. However... you don't think you could have ever been prepared for meeting who you did today.

Macaque himself, a thousand-yard stare on his face as he looks... lost? Confused?

You kept your distance until he collapsed on the ground, then you felt obligated to help.

Your usual routine was to set up a camp to help your patients. Quickly you got to work setting up a tent with two bedrolls before doing your best to pick up the other monkey demon. Once setting him inside... you got to work.

You started with an herbal remedy for exhaustion, making a tea before waking Macaque up. Naturally... your old friend was... combative. You should've expected that from someone supposedly straight out of the underworld.

It took a lot of reasoning, bickering, and some restraints before Macaque calmed down. It appeared the other monkey didn't recognize you at first. Yet once you calmed him and passed over your remedy, you saw a glint of recognition in his eyes.

There's a long silence as Macaque recovers. You let him keep quiet, sitting back in your tent as he sips your remedy. What feels like a half an hour passes before he acknowledges you properly.

"... So... it's you...?" Macaque murmurs, still recovering as he sips the tea you gave him. It's not entirely his thing but it is helping. You snort, looking him over as your tail sways.

"Yeah, you're lucky I crossed your path when I did...." You sigh, curiously watching the shadow monkey. "You aren't supposed to be here... How'd you even get here?"

There's a long awkward pause before Macaque laughs nervously.

"Long story! I guess you could say I got some help... I promise I'll... behave this time." Macaque laughs softly, although you can tell it's a bit forced. "Geez... You're doing this now? Running around doing...?"

"I help people, Macaque." You answer, checking over your supplies. "That's what I've chosen to dedicate my time to. I roam and help people."

"You're playing hero?" Macaque scoffs, immediately reminded of the fact you and Wukong got to be helpful while he was cast into the depths. "You taking after him?"

"It's nothing like that." You huff, sitting in front of him. Macaque can't help but watch you intently... despite the edge in his tone. "I get restless sitting still. People look to me for help. I enjoy doing that."

Macaque merely gives a grunt of disapproval as he curls his tail around himself. It was... pleasant to see a familiar face. He's just... envious he had to suffer for so long.

You're still just as helpful as he remembers... it's both pleasant and infuriating.

"Right, of course, free spirit and all...." Macaque murmurs, golden eyes trained on you before freezing when you came closer.

"I'm checking you over for wounds...." You reassure him, taking note of his suddenly flicking tail. "Stop acting so damn grumpy... I'm trying to help...."

Macaque is stunned by your comment but reluctantly relents. He can't deny he always enjoyed your scent and touch. You were always soothing... always easing his stress even around Wukong.

The word fate flashes into his mind but he flinches and ignores it. He was simply... lucky. Lucky to have met you again... one of his best companions...

Fate and destiny are such silly concepts.

But as Macaque lets you check him over, he can't help but... admire you still. You two weren't just on "friendly terms" to him. To him... you two were true friends.

Yet when he confronted Wukong and the two fought... He saw his female monkey friend nowhere.

At the time, and a little now, Macaque resented you for that. You were no doubt either told by Wukong to leave or were off helping someone else. All while Macaque was left to suffer without your presence.

Smelling your scent, the distinct scent of herbs and female monkey, only brought up memories. Memories of he, Wukong, and you together. Memories before all the hurt.

The thought nearly brings tears to his golden eyes but he hides it. He shakes a bit at the feeling, causing you to look up at him confused. Macaque merely glares... even when he doesn't mean it.

Having you help him felt like no coincidence...

If fate... destiny really brought you two together...

Macaque would be a fool to let you slip out of his grasp again.

---

Recovery didn't take long for Macaque. Yet the fellow mystic monkey managed to drag out your stay for an entire week and a half. He excused it as 'catching up'... all in hopes of seeing his healer monkey friend again.

You often monitored Macaque carefully throughout his recovery. While normally cunning and mischievous, he seemed strangely behaved with you. He took every remedy you gave him with no complaint and overall just acted playful.

It reminded you of old times when your only concerns was eating fruit with your friends. You could tell Macaque was particularly fond of those times. Throughout the week he kept bringing them up, smiling as he clung to you.

Your reunion was surprisingly sweet with him. You were so caught up in remembering those pleasant memories you nearly didn't notice his change in demeanor. The longer he was with you... the clingier he was.

Despite being friends, Macaque often wrapped his arms around you. His tail always right around your waist or entwined with your own. You don't recall him being this clingy before...

But you could only guess what he went through.

Your time with him was pleasant yet you couldn't shake the thought of there being something... off. Not only was his appearance suspicious, but he seemed way too... clingy. You enjoyed seeing your old friend again...

Yet you should really continue on your way....

"You're all healed." You comment, putting your things away. "It was nice to see you again, old friend... Behave, will you?"

Macaque watches you pack up your supplies, dread pooling in his gut for a moment. He... had originally made it his goal to get revenge on Wukong... but he didn't want you to leave. He should let you leave and go about his original plan...

Yet the idea of losing your scent, your warmth...

You freeze when Macaque grabs your tail, peeking over your shoulder. He forces a grin when you glance back at him. You feel intimidated immediately as his grip tightens.

"Leaving so soon, friend?" Macaque purrs playfully, his voice barely hiding a dangerous tone. "I thought you liked me around?

"Macaque, let me go. We'll meet again some other day..." You reason, only for Macaque to shake his head with a chuckle.

"Sorry, girl..." Macaque whispers, pulling you close. "Don't think I can let you do that...."

"Let go, Macaque...!" You growl, earning another chuckle from the shadow behind you.

"Why ever would I do that?" Macaque muses, slinking in front of you. "Don't you know I missed you, my friend? I missed the girl of our mystic friend group... and how she always helped people..."

Macaque steps closer, his stance predatory.

"Even if the person she helped was dangerous..." Macaque coos, leaning in to place a hand on your shoulder. "She still helped... even if it got her into trouble... isn't that right, friend?"

"Wh—?" You go to respond, yet dark hands erupt from your own shadow and trap you. You struggle the best you can, panicking. Macaque only watches with a grin, tail swaying.

"So sorry to do this... but I can't just let you go now, can I?" Macaque pouts, circling you. "I haven't seen you for what feels like millennium. Being lonely really hurts...."

Macaque then embraces you from the front after he finishes his circle, his tail wrapping around yours securely.

"Don't you know we were meant to meet again?" Macaque whispers with a mischievous grin. "You were meant to help me. Us, two friends, together again...!"

You still try to struggle, but Macaque's grip tightens.

"Afraid I can't let you go anywhere, friend." Macaque purrs, patting your head.

"You're stuck with me now... destiny demands it...." Macaque hums, playful as he nuzzles into your fur.

"You've always been too naive for your own good... Helping people can be dangerous, y'know...!"

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 19 : broken soul

The monkeys discover what MK was hiding

Macaque was ahead of him, Sock curled up on his shoulders. The little fluff ball had demanded to be carried the second they began to walk and the warrior conceded easily, even him couldn't win in the face of her sparkling eyes. Sun Wukong discreetly took one or two pictures, and if Macaque remained obvious, Sock turned once or twice towards the camera, her eyes flashing in the dark night.

They caught up with the kid quite easily, with Macaque's way of bending the shadows to his will, and his golden vision, it wasn't very difficult. Even if the sage insisted for the warrior to not push himself, he hovered around him each time his frown seemed a little too deep, peeking over his shoulder with worry. And each time he approached him, Sock pawed at his face. Macaque was annoyed with his hovering, but his frown eased each time Sock pawed at him, softness settling on his face for a second, before letting smugness take over.

MK wasn't going very fastly, he was walking along the shaded streets, singing to an old song blasting in his headphones.

Macaque jumped on a nearby trash can and climbed a wall, running on the roof. Sock was unbothered by it all, licking one of her paws and rubbing her fuzzy head as she rested on the warrior shoulders. Sun Wukong stilled a second, a bit stunned by the sudden jump. He took a deep breath, chasing away his insecurities, and tried to mimic the warrior. The first jump came easily, but he tripped when he landed on the roof, feet stuttering.

Macaque caught his wrist before he could stumble, and steadied him. Sun Wukong quickly regained his balance, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, wow. Guess I drank too much." Awkwardly chuckled the sage.

"Wukong, you drank tea." Replied the Macaque with a raised eyebrow.

"My statement still stands." Mumbled the King.

"You idiot." Laughed the warrior, he nuzzled the cat perched on his shoulders, Sock meowed happily and nuzzled back. "Look, she agrees with me. I'm her favorite." The King gasped, fasly outraged, and looked at his lil lady with teary eyes.

"Nooo, my fluffy triangle, how could you." Mumbled the sage, he leaned over his lil bud, Sock meowed at him joyously, happy to see him, and licked his snout. "Hmm, nah, I'm still her favorite."

"She just knows you better. She's on my shoulders now, so that's proof I'm her favorite."

"No, she's just curious." Refuted the sage. He leaned over his cat and nuzzled her lovingly. "Says, my lil sage, who do you prefer between me and Macaque?" Sock tilted her head and looked between him and Macaque. She pawed at him, and he beamed, going as far as to jump in the air in joy.

"That means nothing." Chuckled the warrior. "She's still on my shoulders." Sock meowed at the warrior and gently pawed his face (she was more gentle with him than with the sage). "Look, she's pawing at me now."

"Well, sure, you could be her second favorite, I suppose."

"Hm, guess it's better than nothing. Right, lil sage of floof ?" Sock purred happily, and hid in his neck, enjoying the warmth he provided. Sun Wukong looked over the both of them, a soft smile on his lips. His heart was fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, it was so lovely to see the both of them bonding. He didn't know it felt so good to see two people (cat?) he cared about bonding with each other. Macaque must have felt his gaze, he looked up at him with inquiry. The sage stopped staring, and cleared his throat, trying to calm his beating heart.

"Let's go, MK will lose us."

"I doubt that, the kid is a snail."

"Hey, don't doubt my mentee. He's fast as a jaguar!"

"Hm, are you sure about that?" Asked the macaque as he pointed at the kid, who wasn't very far despite their little breather.

"… That's an exception."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"How dare you." Chuckled the King.

"I always dare, Wukong. You know me." Replied the macaque, he resumed their chasing, running on the roof with light footsteps. Sun Wukong ran after him, trying to smother his laugh in his palm to not blow their cover.

MK walked towards the outskirts of the city, he stretched a little there and turned into an eagle. Wukong wondered why he bothered walking, he could have flown right away, but he supposed he had his reasons. The sage summoned his cloud, fluffied it a little, and tentatively offered his hand to the warrior, eyes fleeting. Macaque passed by him without taking his hand, because of course he did, and climbed the cloud, settling comfortably. He put Sock in his arms, holding her tightly, and turned towards the sage with a fanged smile on his lips. The sage's heart skipped a beat, and he climbed his own cloud with a thumping tail. They soared after the kid, navigating through the clouds with ease, using the sage's piercing eyes to find shaded paths.

MK flew across a desert, his wings piercing the chilling winds of the night. Sun Wukong had an inkling as to where his mentee was going. It wasn't hard to guess considering the kid mentioned Red Son. Soon enough, the Bull's fortress appeared on the horizon, a castle of steel standing strong in the midst of ruby red trails of lava. MK landed quietly, before the massive entry, and regained his form. He was brought in by Red Son, and disappeared behind the heavy door.

"Maybe they're just hanging out?" Mumbled the warrior as they hovered above the fortress.

"Do you really believe that?" Replied the King.

"They seemed quite chummy."

"Chummy as in…"

"I don't know… Maybe they're dating."

"What? MK is too young for that!"

"He's 22?" Retorted the warrior, an amused shine in his eyes, as if Wukong's plight was funny.

"Exactly. That's too young. Anyway, we're going in."

"Oh yeah ? And who's gonna take care of miss cutie over there?" Asked the warrior as he petted the lil lady spread on his lap, she meowed happily and chased after the pets. Sun Wukong frowned for a second, he took a bunch of his hair and invoked one clone.

"You, take care of Sock while we're gone." Ordered the sage.

"Got it boss!" Yelped the clone, he carefully took the cat from Macaque's lap, eyes lingering a bit too long on the warrior, before nuzzling the lil lady lovingly. "Aww, come on my lil sage, you're hanging out with the coolest clone tonight."

"Well, that's one way to solve this." Muttered the ebony monkey.

"Yeah, now come on!"

The sage leaped out of the cloud and transformed into a hawk, Macaque followed behind him, traveling through his shadows. They passed by an open window, quietly landing in one of the castle corridors.

"Hey, Macaque. You're good with magic or…?" Tentatively asked the sage as he regained foot, and changed back. Macaque flinched, tail shyly coiling on his ankle, and looked away. Sun Wukong wordlessly took one of his hands and pressed it against his forehead, giving bits of his magic to aid the other. Macaque yanked back his hand after a few seconds and muttered a wavering “thank you”.

The sage turned into a butterfly and flew away, his eyes glowing with a subtle shine to help him see through the dark. Macaque sank in his shadows, quietly following after the sage. Sun Wukong found his mentee rather quickly, MK was with Red Son, in a lavish room filled with papers and scrolls. The sage hid in one corner, listening attentively to the two chattering kids. Macaque settled in the sage's shadow, taking control of his silhouette, Sun Wukong tried to not let himself be affected by that. The feeling of having someone in his shadow was nostalgic, something he was used to in his youth. But it wasn't the time for nostalgic musing, he had to focus.

"So you found the next piece?" Asked MK with a beaming smile.

"Well, yeah. It's not that far from here but it's in a dangerous territory."

"I'm sure Mei and I can handle it! Besides, I'm the Monkie Kid."

"It's serious, Noodle boy. You're sure you don't want to ask your mentors for help? Actually, they should know, especially the black furred one." Sighed the little Bull as he turned towards a worn map carefully hung on one of his walls.

"No… They're going through a lot right now, I don't want to worry them." Mumbled the kid as he played with his hoodie strings.

"But it concerns them."

"Yeah… But I don't want to… you know how Macaque is. It's better if we do it this way."

"We don't even know if the black simian will agree to try-"

"I'm sure he will. I know he doesn't want to… you know."

"Alright." Conceded Red Son. MK suddenly sprang on his feet, eyes narrowed in confusion, flickers of gold passing through his iris. Sun Wukong was at the same time very proud of his mentee for sensing their presence, but also very worried. Before he could try to hide, he was pushed in the shadows, swallowed by the darkness.

The shadows were cold, snakes of darkness coiling around him, dragging him in their nest, trapping him inside. Macaque was the only thing he could grab in this place, the only thing he could sense. The warrior made them emerge outside, in front of the heavy door. Sun Wukong immediately called his cloud, and they soared away from the fortress.

"I thought you would take longer, what happened?" Asked the clone as he handed snacks to the lil lady. Where he got the snacks was a mystery, Wukong knew it wasn't made of hair.

"The kid spotted us." Sighed the King, the clone nodded, he poofed himself when he sensed the cold atmosphere between them. Sun Wukong took Sock and held her tightly, not willing to let her free on the cloud. They flew in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, musing about what they heard. "I… Do you know what the kid was talking about?" Finally asked the sage.

"No." Sighed the warrior, eyes downcast, a storm brewing in his twilight iris.

"Do you think it's linked to your state? "Macaque flinched, he turned away, arms clutching his own fur.

"Why do you think that?"

"They were scrolls about soul magic littering the room. And from how they talked about you… it's safe to assume it's linked."

"… I don't know, maybe." Silence embraced them once again, Sun Wukong let a few gusts of wind pass through his fur, letting the warrior catch his breath, before resuming the talk.

"I know… that you don't want to talk about it. And I understand, I don't want to push you. But if the kid is involved I… I can't let this go."

"I'll talk to the kid." Conceded the warrior, he curled up on himself, as if he was trying to hide from the sage's gaze.

"Macaque. I need to know what's going on."

"Can't you just let me handle it?" Quietly asked the warrior, tail shaked by nervous starts.

"I…why don't you want to tell me?" Mumbled the sage, throat clogged by unsaid feelings, unsaid fears. He petted Sock to calm his stuttering breath.

"I just… I’m not weak."

"I know you're not."

"You're gonna blame yourself."

"I'm already doing it." The warrior sighed, he straightened a little, but didn't turn to face him.

"I… The lady bone demon butchered my resurrection. I think you can guess what that means."

"Fuck. I… she really used necromancy. Macaque you… does the kid know?"

"He knows. I think he's searching for a cure or whatever. I didn't think he would put himself in danger I…" Macaque’s head dropped to his knees, shoulders shaking. "Fuck. Why does he do this?"

"Because he cares." Replied the King, he slowly approached the warrior, one hand hovering above him, but never touching him. "I care too." He quietly added.

"But it's hopeless. There is no cure."

"Don't say that-"

"I know so. I searched for a long time. There is no cure. I'm doomed to live the rest of my life as a fucking parasite or die because of her. Fuck. The last few months made me forget that."

"Don't… Listen, I'm going to confront the kid, and then we're going to help you."

"Don't make me hope." Hissed the warrior. "Stop making me hope, I'm tired of being deceived." Sock looked up once she heard the anguish in the ebony monkey's voice, she leaped out of the King lap and quietly approached the warrior, gently pawing at his arm. Macaque turned towards her and petted her, she meowed happily and climbed on his lap. The warrior curled up around her, shoulders shaking a little less.

"Okay… Don't hope then, just let me handle it." Sighed the sage. They were approaching flower fruit mountain, the volcano ring recognizable from afar. The King noticed the clouds brewing above his kingdom and cursed. "I… is it a bad time to tell you that tonight is a storm night ?"

"Are you for real?" Grumbled Macaque.

"Yeah, I think it's gonna be pretty bad. You.. Hm… you're welcome in the cave by the way. If you want to spend the storm here."

"… Yeah, okay, whatever. I'm tired."

They quietly landed in the water curtain cave, the rest of the troop already snuggling there, sleeping away without any worries. Macaque's expression softened when he spotted the troop, his body relaxed, and his hold on Sock weakened a little. Nonetheless he still didn't free her, Sock didn't seem to mind, enjoying being cradled so softly. Sun Wukong jumped out of his cloud and made it disappear with a flick of wrist, he turned towards the warrior, tail twitching nervously behind him, and cleared his throat.

"Hm, you can come inside my shack, if you want?" Macaque looked at him, eyes searching, before heading towards the shack. Sun Wukong repressed the joyous trill wanting to escape his lips and followed after the warrior.

Macaque settled on the couch, Sock on his lap, and busied himself with the lil lady, letting her pawe at his tail as she saw fit. Sun Wukong fled to the kitchen, trying to find something to eat to appease his worry. He took a peach popsicle and ate away his nervosity. His eyes lingered on the others popsicles, he hesitantly took another one and returned to the living room. Sun Wukong sat on the couch and nervously played with the tip of his tail.

"Hm, here, y-you hungry?" The sage handed the popsicle to the warrior, Macaque looked at him for a few seconds, before sighing and accepting the olive branch.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Mumbled the macaque as he ate the popsicle.

"I… Well, I made you uncomfortable."

"You wanted answers." Sighed the warrior. They ate their snacks in silence, both musing over what happened.

"I'm glad you apologized to the kid." Suddenly mumbled the sage.

"It was high time."

"Still, the kid deserved it. I should apologize to him too…"

"Hm, yeah, he doesn't deserve any of our bullshit."

"Yeah, I'm not a very good mentor, am I? He always gets dragged in my messes." Awkwardly chuckled the sage, he regretted saying that the moment the words passed his lips. This wasn't something he wanted to share, but yet his lips seemed strangely loose around the warrior.

"You're… You're not bad. At mentoring I mean." The warrior let his claws pass through Sock's fur, he began to groom her, a nervous tick perhaps. Sock was already used to living with a monkey, so she wasn't bothered by the grooming. Sun Wukong groomed her a lot when he was stressed.

"… You're sure? I think you are a way better mentor than me."

"I'm really not." Replied Macaque. "I mean, yeah, I'm awesome, and you're awkward." The warrior's tail brushed against his in a teasing manner, Sun Wukong chuckled.

"How kind of you."

"I'm the kindest I know. But seriously, you're great. You made mistakes but you're trying."

"Yeah… "Wukong played with his popsicle stick, spinning it between his claws. He bit his lips, not wanting to let the words out, but they passed his lips regardless of his wishes. "Did I ever hurt MK?" Macaque stopped playing with Sock and turned towards him, tail still. Sun Wukong curled on himself, belittling himself for asking that.

"What do you mean?"

"It's… no, it's nothing."

"No, what do you mean?" Sock jumped out of Macaque's laps the second he moved, the warrior scouted closer and Wukong turned away.

"Did I… ever hurt him when I was in my feral state?"

Macaque tensed, something almost unnoticeable, so small it could have flown past him if he hadn't paid attention, but Wukong had keen eyes, and this small shiver from the other was enough to fill him with dread. The thought wasn't new, he knew he had done something to MK, but some part of him was still trying to refute it.

"You… I mean you were attacking everyone so-"

"So I did." Mumbled the sage. "Did I hurt you too?"

"No, you were… really sweet with me."

"Great." Sun Wukong turned towards the warrior and dived in his eyes. "I guess I have one more thing to say sorry for, MK is gonna get a lot of apologies."

"Apologizing is hard. But you can do it." Macaque smiled at him, something awkward, and wavering, but real. "You're the great sage aren't you?"

"You bet I am." Sun I King turned away, unable to keep looking at the other without letting his emotions consume him.

The storm bursted out outside, loud and obnoxious, the sky was torn apart by lightning.

"You're alright? With your ears I mean?"

"Yeah, the dampening spell is still on."

"Cool."

The lights inside of his shack got out, perhaps disturbed by the lightning. Sun Wukong jumped on his feet, startled by the sudden dark.

"I'm getting candles, just wait here."

The sage tried to navigate in the dark, but he hit his feet on his table sides and fell on the floor.

"You're okay?" Asked the warrior.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't move." The sage held his feet, trying to repress the groans bubbling up in his throat. Sock jumped on his chest, because of course she did, and pawed at him. "Sock, wait, I'm suffering there lil sage don't pawe ate me" . The sage held his lil lady, she meowed at him, softly pawing at his hands to free herself. "I swear sometimes I feel like you're trying to kill me."

"You know you have gold vision, right?"

"Fuck… didn't thought of that."

Macaque bursted out laughing, the sage could hear his tail thumping happily on the couch. And even if he couldn't see him, Sun Wukong could easily imagine how he would look. The warrior would laugh unabashedly, fangs glinting, and eyes crooked like moon crescents. He would calm down after a while and try to hide his laugh with his palms, embarrassed by his own loudness, if he had his scarf he would hide in it.

Sun Wukong chuckled along, still holding his lil bud, heart beating just a little bit faster.

This was nice.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[magenda]

When I found the @redmarqar 's amazing tf2 rock au I really wanted to draw something

So, medic, because he's adorable!

(Also, first tumblr post, I sure hope I don't abandon this, ha)

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

Try these out!

[greyias]

Damn it Halsin, Part 2

I literally just left the map to go get my morning radiant buff since it disappears on a long rest. I WAS GOING TO COME RIGHT BACK!

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...

[blindecho6]

[caffeinatedopossum]

Suddenly realizing I've had seizures before :0 but this was just the first one where someone who knew what it was was there to witness it (my girlfriend)

That's so cool and definitely not terrifying /s

[bitchthefuck1]

How long does a show have to be bad before y'all stop saying we "just need to give it time" and accept that it sucks? Serious question

[ashennightingale]

imo good character-establishing things to have for pcs are like

- the usual why are they on this adventure, why are they w this group, etc

- what's one personality trait that drives them to do the stupid but fun thing

- what's one aspect that might make them act in ways contrary to how they do normally (including Not doing the stupid thing if it wouldn't be fun)

that last one is beneficial for the collaborative aspect of ttrpgs: if everyone else wants to do x, & as a player u wanna cooperate but ur pc would be opposed, how can u navigate that? there's still times to dig ur heels in, but often I've found more value in establishing Why or How my character can be convinced to go along w smth anyway

also just. ppl contradict themselves sometimes, & having even a simple sense of that in ur pcs can both make rp richer & assist in collaborating w the other ppl at ur table

[aahtm]

Kjell opened his eyes. The fat guard had come between them and the dragon, shield braced against the inferno.

— And All Heard The Music, chapter 10: Voice And Flame

Bonus: original sketch under the cut

[joelsgoldrush]

“GUILTY PLEASURE” | 8.6k

logan howlett x fem!reader

“I want this like a cigarette / Can we drag it out and never quit?” Guilty Pleasure by Chappell Roan

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader, reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes, age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, soft dom!logan, wade being the funniest asshole, logan calls reader "kiddo/kid"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)