#i really should come up with a better tag for my talking

[ziminy]

Coming back to you

How to get back with your ex

Tags: smut, minors and ageless blogs do not interact, f!reader, normal au (because we suffered enough), my bbg Caleb the manipulative king he is (break me in half and all I'll say is thank you), implied stalking (if you squint), creampie, oral (f! receiving), fingering, marking, dirty talk, praising, size difference, little bit of crying, not proofread

Author's note: almost lvl 60 affinity with him, it was hard work and a lot of dedication. Trust me when I say I won't be able to recover financially from this any time soon.

Masterlist

Life was good when you were together, and somehow it even better after breaking up. It's not like your split up was messy, because you two parted ways on mutual accord, deciding that this isn't going to work since both of you were so busy lately. Why dragging the other down when you have your futures set?

In fact, the break up wasn't even supposed to be a break up, you were supposed to take a little break from each other that turned into a break up some time later. You said that you'd still be friends, that it's alright to talk and greet each other if you somehow managed to meet again.

But it was all lies. Both of you knew that. Because you never texted each other after that, and somehow you tried to avoid all the places he might be at. You don't really know why you're doing that, if just.. you feel a little uncomfortable looking back at what you two used to have.

Perhaps it was the way he looked at you, how he leaned down to talk to you, or that dumb smile that made your heart skip a beat.

He was caring, attentive, maybe a bit obsessive, perhaps a bit insane too. And maybe that what scared you, kept you away from dating again. Finding another one like him. God, what if you had the misfortune to wake up with another one like him at your door? You'd rather jump out the window than have the luck of getting another Caleb.

But he was good, in his own ways.

Well.. you can't really name any of his good traits at the moment, but he was a great guy. If you put aside his manipulative side, that he doesn't even try to hide to begin with.

You promised yourself to not fall for another guy like him, that empty words mean nothing to you. Threats had no effect, and you don't feel guilty anymore over things that you shouldn't be to begin with.

So, why was he here? You were supposed to meet with the old friend group, to reconnect and talk about the old days and how college used to be. I mean, he was part of the group, but why exactly was he here? And why did nobody told you he was coming?

"It's so good to see you guys!" one of your friends said, instantly jumping from person to person to hug.

"I feel like we're young again." someone else said, making you shake your head and let out a soft laugh. You can't show that you're affected, you're all grown now, you matured. He had no effect on you anymore. Even if it only been a year, you're still a different person that you were a few months ago.

"We aren't old to begin with." you said with a smile on your face. "How haves everyone been?" you sounded so calm, like you forgot how much stress was put on you back then. Everybody looks in much better shape after graduation, perhaps that place was rough for everyone.

"Let's just skip greetings and drink." of course there was that one person. "Caleb, you pay." everybody's eyes were on the tall man.

"You brought your wallet, no? Why should I pay." your eyes made contact for a moment, and you felt your face getting hotter. This night better go quick, because you don't know for how much longer you can handle this.

Everything was how it was back then, the way you sit in groups at the bar. How you found yourself next to the same girls you used to, deciding that you don't want to be loud and take it easy, just like before.

"So, how have life been for you? Haven't heard anything from you after we graduate." one of the girls looked at you, reminding you of how you chose to go no contact with everybody after your breakup.

"You and Caleb broke up? I thought you'd last a life time." is there nothing better to talk about?

"I'm a career woman now." you decided to change the subject, rather chosing to talk about work that your failed relationship.

"Oh?" why everybody looked so surprised was a mystery. But somehow you understood their reactions, you're also surprised you went this path.

"Got any boyfriends?" they still want to get info on your personal life, huh? Well, guess you won't be able to dodge that question any time soon.

"Nothing at the moment. Just focusing on work."

"I guess it's hard to date again. Normal guys must be so bland, not comparing to that piece of meat over there." you looked displeased with your friends choice of words. Yes, your ex might look good, but looks isn't what matters right now. Your well being was your top priority, and you enjoyed the freedom you had way too much.

"I'd be like that too if I had your ex. Imagine recovering from that." you don't even have to imagine.

"Is it even humanly possible to find somebody who's better than him?" their questions doesn't affect you, because you already know that you're the best you'd find. You understand and give yourself more than enough space that it's needed. So the right questions was if he will be able to find someone as good as you, because he won't.

"He's looking in this direction." the girls started giggling, and somehow, this was nostalgic.

Didn't this happened already? Before you started dating, right before you two confessed your feelings. Because somehow, you managed to do that at the same time. It was funny, if you're thinking about it. How you two were so in sync, you had no idea.

"Go talk to him." the girl next to you tried to push you, to make you get up and walk to the dark haired man.

"Don't want to." you kept avoiding any eye contact ever since you got in that bar. If you don't acknowledge him then he doesn't even exist to you.

"But he's looking at you." you grabbed the drink in front of you and gulped everything down your throat, trying to ignore him.

"Are you shy?" the girls started giggling again.

It was annoying. Why can't they understand that it's over? He understands this, so why can't they do it as well?

"We don't have anything to talk about."

"But he seems to want to?" it doesn't matter even if they point it out. It's been a long time already, you both moved on.

"Isn't there anything you want to tell him? Like things you didn't got the chance to while you were together?"

"This is the time to clear any bad blood between the two of you." but that wasn't necessary.

Frustrated, you looked in his direction. Eyebrows furrowed and biting on your lip so you wouldn't let out any curses you wanted to say at the moment. That classical expression, looking like he's good, even if there was no smile on his face, but he kept nodding to what his friends were saying. His eyes were betraying him however, those sleepy eyes, looking at you like you were more interesting, like he had to or else you'd evaporate from there or who knows what worse. It wasn't often when you'd see him like that, so you can't even answer your own questions on why he seemed like that.

No, if you payed attention to his surroundings, his friends might be annoying him. Saying something that he doesn't like, or.. they were talking about you. Just the way your friends were talking about him.

Was he feeling like that because he didn't want to talk to you either? No, you doubt that. It's probably because you refuse to give him any attention.

You turned to face the girls around you, who still seemed to push you to him. Maybe you should in fact go for it?

But, was there really anything that needed to be said? You don't have any regrets, you can't think of anything you want to say. And he's the same, even if he looked like he was holding back from time to time. You doubt he ever did something he's regretting. After all, you matched each other's freaks. You managed to stay together for that long just because you completed the other, understood yourselfs on a level no one else around you could.

Was this why you were pushed to him? Because everyone knew how well you fit each other?

You looked at your friends one more time, sighing as you finally gave up. You're still afraid to approach him, because he was still intimidating in a way you can't explain.

Or you can, because whenever you look at him you feel a chill down your spine. Your head was filled with stuff you said to him in the past, memories coming back to embarrass you, to make you forget what you want to do so you'd fuck up in front of him.

You stopped in front of him, staring at him as he looked at you. He still had that expression on his face, like you're still his softest spot, his weakness that makes him weak in the knees when he's around you. You opened your mouth, trying to say something but then forgetting everything once you looked into his purple eyes.

You can't be like this forever, you had to step up your game. You really had to move on, and maybe that's what you have to talk with him. Because he seems to be stuck in the past too. "You have time?" you noticed the way he almost raised his hand, to grab onto you and drag you closer like he always did. But he held back, because he knew this wasn't the time.

"Yeah." he tried to keep it nonchalantly, but you could see past his poorly executed facade. Should you feel happy with how you still affect him? You feel like you could laugh.

"Wanna talk outside?" you don't even know why you said outside of all places. You wanted to stay inside, where everybody else was. You wanted to have a reason to keep it cool, to not lose yourself in your emotions, because you know you'll fuck up if you're alone with him.

He got up, standing much taller than you as he followed you quietly. Seriously, this was like a deja vu. You still remember how you used to follow him just the way he's doing now. Not questioning a thing, and trusting him a bit too much. But you also had no idea where you're going. All you know is that you want to go outside, take some fresh air, say a few words and then go back to your friends.

For a moment, he got in front of you, opening the door and letting you walk out first. He used to do this all the time, didn't he? You almost forgot about it.

You walked a little further from the bar, resting your back against a building's wall as you looked at the sunset. No one said a thing, and the distance between the two of you was colder than the night's breeze.

"So.." a few words and then go back, that's all. You can go to your friends after this and rest. "How have you been." avoid eye contact, because you don't know when you'll fuck up, look forward, don't let yourself be distracted.

"Busy." his voice still makes something in your head ring, like a little bell that seems to not calm down until he said so. "You?"

"Busy." you couldn't even think of what to say, just biting your lip in frustration.

It was quiet again, like both of you forgot how to communicate.

For a moment, you looked to your left, at where the bar was, and then at him, catching him staring at you with a expression you can't quite explain. Sadness? No, it was a mixture of sad and frustration. And you understood him. He had you this close, next to him, and yet he couldn't do anything.

"You're bigger than I remember." you don't even know why you said that. It's just.. he looks different and you can't exactly say what it was.

"I stopped growing a long time ago." he kept looking at you, at the way you were scanning him for anything that it might have changed. "Maybe you're the one who shrinked." he extended his hand, he doesn't really know why, but it seemed alright in that moment. Like he knew you wouldn't run anymore. "My hands are still the same."

You looked at his palm, at his long fingers and at the way he looks so familiar, yet new. Like you forgot how his body looked for a moment, like you were back in the past before you two started dating. Because you did this back then too, you were in this situation before.

How he was trying to tame you, let you touch him just the way you want, explore and discover more. All just to show you how inoffensive he is, that he's not a threat.

And you bite the bait every single time. Taking his hand in yours, slowly touching it just to see if it was indeed like what you remember.

You should put more effort if you don't want him back in your life. Just look at you, you look like you've missed him so so much. You shouldn't be this sweet or else you might not be able to break up again this time.

He tried his luck, interlocking his fingers with yours, and showing you more of that size difference you haven't seen in a while.

You don't reject him, his actions only made you be more curious. What else was he hiding? You looked up at him, only to see that expression again. You really didn't understand how his eyes can be just this dark, like there was absolutely no life in them, only a purple abyss that seems to drag you in towards him.

"It's getting dark." he said in a low voice, forgetting that he was supposed not to scare you for a moment. "Let me drive you home." he's the same as ever. Getting ahead of himself just because he was able to feel your perfume for once, the same scent that you had since back then. It suited you, and he missed it.

"Alright." he always knew how to calm you, let down your guard so he can get more under your skin. Or perhaps you were doing that voluntarily, because he doubts you'd be like this just for anybody.

The ride back to your place was quiet, only the radio on, playing some mainstream songs over and over again.

The silence was loud, but not uncomfortable. It was better this way because you had nothing to say. And he will not talk until you talk.

But once you got to your house, you somehow didn't wanted to get out the car just yet. It's just.. can't he stay? You don't know why you want him there, and you don't want answers to that.

"You're.." you played with your fingers. "You're not busy, right?" you avoided his eyes, or to look in his direction at all. This was all his doing, wearing that one fragrance that made your head spin, and the shirt that he knew was your favorite. "Want to come inside?" you're doing this on your own accord. Because he wouldn't push you over your limits like this, especially when you just met again after a long time.

You came to him, you talked to him, and you dragged him into your home on your own. He didn't do anything, this was all your doing.

You were brave enough to make the first move, so he might as well reward you for it, no?

You didn't looked surprised when you started kissing the moment the front door closed behind you, you also looked unfazed when he started taking off your clothes, now going towards your bedroom, looking for a bed so he could place you on it.

How could you forget this feeling? Or the way he used to take care of you. Always stopping you from lifting a single finger, not letting you do anything until you start begging him, or worse, do things without even warning him first.

"Tell me if it hurts." he placed a kiss on your cheek before going down, biting softly on your skin and leaving kisses all over the places he touched. He was going to mark all of your body, so people would see a part of him on you even if you're not together.

He stopped when he got to your pussy, leaving a kiss on your inner thigh, before placing his lips over your heat. He was going to scream, he missed this so much that he just couldn't help but let out a lustful moan deep from the bottom of his heart.

How could you left him? Take this away from him, leave him all alone to suffer. If he didn't craved so much for you he would have punished you for it.

"You're so tight." he said as he got two of his fingers inside.

"It's been a while since I did it." he looked up at you from between your legs, placing a kiss on your clit.

"Have you done it with someone else?" he was asking as if he didn't knew everything you did while he was gone. And yet, hes jealous.

"No." you shook your head. "What about you?" are you questioning his loyalty?

"Did you touched yourself?" if this was his way of changing the subject, then it wasn't working. Because it only made you want to ask the same thing, embarras him just the way he did to you.

"Did you?" he should feel embarrassed, ashamed or anything between those two, but no, it was just you who feeling that way.

"Every time I missed you." seriously, can he calm down for a moment. You can't take it. "You didn't do a good job." he said, licking on your clit as his fingers curled up. "But I guess you can't do much with those fingers of yours." you couldn't face him when he was saying such dirty words. "Did you had a hard time stuffing yourself? Don't worry, I'll do it for you from now on." you placed a hand over his face, to cover his eyes so he would stop looking at you.

"Don't look at me." you whimper. "It's embarrassing." you were always so easy to tease.

"Alright." he moved your hand away. "I'm sorry." he was in fact not, but if that's what you want to hear then he'll lie again and again, as long as you're happy.

Your pleasure was more important to him. So he focused on that, paying attention to the places that made you melt, on your soft voice and your touch. You're still so hesitant, like you don't really trust him, like you're still testing the waters.

What more do you want from him? What can he possible give that he haven't gave you already? You have his heart, you have his mind and soul, his well being is all yours, his body and everything he owns. So give him attention, touch him more and tell him that he's doing good because he's about to burst.

For a moment he looked up at you, just to see how you're doing, to check on you and make sure you're alright.

How did he lived for so long without looking at you was a mystery. Why he accepted you leaving him and trying to move on. Who else is going to make you feel like this? You need him, you needed his cock and his touch.

But he's not going to fuck up, since it's been a while since you last did it, he shouldn't push you. So, he placed a last kiss on your clit before taking his fingers out of you, leaving you panting and waiting for more. He didn't even let you cum, how mean of him.

Still, how dumb of him, to come here with nothing on him, not even a single condom. I mean, it wasn't really his fault because he never knew he'll end up like this.

"Take it off, your clothes." you were all naked while he was still fully dressed. He also looked like he wasn't planning on getting undressed any time soon and it was annoying you.

"I don't have any condoms." that was the problem?

"It don't matter." you took him by surprise. "Come here." you knew how rail him up. And you better not regret your decision later.

You looked at him taking off his shirt, his defined muscles jumping right into your face. You were right when you said he looked bigger, he must be working out a lot more lately. He took his pants off after, your eyes on his hard cock as he came back next to you.

"Relax." he said when he got between your legs. "Look at me." it would only be harder for you if you keep overthinking. Yeah, he was big, so what. He's going to give you all the time in the world until you adjust yourself to take him. It's gonna be hard at first, but it's going to be so much easier once he models your insides into the shape of his cock. And that's a promise, believe him.

He slowly pushed the head of his dick inside your wet core, making you move a little from how it was feeling, trying to find a better position. He lowered himself, now his chest pressed against yours, placing kisses all over your face as he kept pushing more of him inside your warm pussy. It's alright, take your time. He's not going anywhere, he'll wait until you're ready for him to move.

"You're doing good." he whispered in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I'm all the way inside, see? It doesn't hurt." it hurts a little, maybe more than just a little. But wasn't it normal when he was stretching you like that? But just as much as it hurts, it also felt good, in a way that left your mouth watering. He was going to be the end of you, really.

"Move." you ordered him, wanting to feel more. Just being stuffed to the brim wasn't enough, you needed much more than that.

He followed your orders, moving his hips slowly, paying attention to your next move.

You were so cute when you're sticking to him like that, holding onto his shoulders and trembling every time he touched that spot deep inside that he wasn't trying to touch to begin with, to not overwhelm yourself.

He's going to give you everything you want, there's no need to rush. If this was how much you can handle then that's how much he's going to give you. So why were you grabbing him like that, and asking for more? "Deeper." but you couldn't take it? You're going to say that he bullied you later, and he doesn't want to take the blame for something you made him do.

"You're sure?" you nodded, looking at him through your eyelashes with a pout on your face. Alright then, if that's what you want. How could he refuse you?

So he got deeper, hitting that spongy spot with long slow strokes that seems to work wanders on you.

He kissed you, again and again, to mark everything that missed his touch. To make sure you feel him, more than just inside.

"Is it good?" he asked as if he doesn't know your body like the back of his hand.

"Mm." you nodded, leaning in to feel more of his warmth.

"Then say my name. Let me know how good I make you feel." how could you forget he was like this. He always had to mark his territory as if you're not already his. But unfortunately for him, you're not in the mood to fulfill his desires. Screaming his name seemed nice, but at the moment all you wanted was to feel him, have him to yourself and let nobody know about your business.

Maybe his greedy side rubbed on you, or maybe it's the other way around. Or not, because at the end of the day you both knew that your unsolved issues can't be fixed that easy, and it can't be passed into the other when both of you are insane.

That's why you're trying to consume each other in other ways.

Kisses that seemed way too loving for someone who just got reunited after a long time. Touches that linger on the other's body even after moving away. Whispers and words that really makes it seems like you two were just a day apart, talking about moving with him, how you don't need anyone else but him. And at the moment you're too drunk on him to even realize that you're nodding, agreeing to every little degrading thing he's saying.

You want him, don't you? You missed him, you were such a mess without him. Right? Why did you permited him to leave when he's made for you. "I love you." that's the most normal thing he said tonight. "I love you, you heard me?" you heard him, but if you're giving him an answer that satisfies him, you'll never make him pay for the pain he caused you.

"You do?" you didn't sounded loving at all, even if your arms were wrapped around his neck, looking at him in the eyes with something only he saw before, your lust and obsession.

"I love you." he'll say it until you finally give up. Placing a kiss right next to your eye, he caged you in his arms, a hand under your ass and lifting up so he could go even deeper than before. Move in even more, since you said you wanted deeper. He'll show you places you didn't even know existed if you're asking for it.

He can't say that he's a brat tamer, because he's not. He likes everything about you, your sweet side, your mean and angry side. He likes it when you punish him, it shows him that you care. And if you believe that he's not doing enough to deserve your love just yet, then he'll do more.

He liked trying after all. And he'd be damed if he said that he doesn't want to show you just how far he can go. Because trust him, you can't handle it.

He's going to eat you, or even better, sacrifice him as you see fit. He wants to be inside you forever, be part of you. Because he feels like he's finally at home only when he's with you, in your arms. And when he's balls deep inside you? He's in heaven.

"Does it hurts?" he licked your tears away, wanting to taste them and claim them as his.

You nodded, feeling his cock twitching before moving in a way that got you throwing your head back. This fucker. He thinks that he can just do this to you and not pay a price? And perhaps sometimes he forgets how you can be so cruel, mean, and play with his feelings in a way only you could.

All he needs is a look from you, fluttering those eyelashes in a pretty way, and a sad expression that he can't resist.

You win, if you wanted him to fumble, then you win. He's all yours, do whatever you want with him because he doesn't have the ability to think anymore. "Cum with me?" what gives you the right to ask such a dumb question when you knew that's the only thing he wants. If you're not, the he's not doing it either. He knows he's asking for too much, but let the man dream.

"I'll fill you up nice and pretty, alright?" he made it sounded like a question, but you both knew he was just letting you know.

"Mm." you nodded, your lips smashing together the next moment. Eating each other out as you were both so so close. Touches becoming more and more desperate, his grip on so tight you won't be surprised if it leaves a bruise. But it's alright, because you feel like that's not quite enough.

More, you both needed more. And some heated sex after fucks knows how long won't be enough to satisfy the empty holes in you. You needed so much more.

Will you even be able to get out the bed tomorrow? Both of you. Because from the way you drag each other back, refusing to give up just yet was more than enough proof to show you won't step back any time soon.

But who knows, maybe you'll finally be happy by the time you both dry your energy out.

[velvetvexations]

I guess Plaidos is doing that thing where she unblocks me to reblog me again lol.

Accusing me of pretending to be a trans woman is in fact misgendering me. I am a trans woman. I provably have a voice that can only belong to a person AMAB or someone who's tried very hard over a long period of time to masculinize their voice, so if I'm not a 'TMA' person, you must be necessarily be accusing me of being a man, although it would not be any better if you were saying I was any other kinna non-trans woman either, because it's still misgendering to say a trans woman is faking being a trans woman regardless.

You're misgendering a trans woman when you say I'm not a trans woman. You literally said me claiming to be a trans woman is the same as a conservative man making an attack helicopter joke. You can apologize for that at your leisure.

Extremely conceited. You come up on my blog fairly infrequently, but you have over fifteen times the followers I do and what you say has reverberations in trans discourse, so sometimes I get anons letting me know what new hornet's nest you've kicked off. I don't look at your blog because it makes my skin physically crawl. The fact that you're an Actually Popular Trans Woman on Tumblr, unlike me, means that you're going to get talked about occasionally because every time you say some dumb shit your gaggle of idiots is ready to enthusiastically vomit it at the other minority groups you call slurs.

Sincerely, get the fuck over it, you're either a prominant transfeminist literary analysist or you aren't.

It's literally a content warning, because you're a hateful and offensive person, but it's wild I should even have to defend that since 'transfeminists' will tag posts hating on me on a regular basis for no particular reason.

If you actually do go through that tag, you'll see that I tend to only ever talk about you in response to people bringing you up first, or in the case of you misgendering me, you talking about me first. The only real exception is that I made two posts about the Dropout discourse you blatantly started for attention, which was (a) still brought to me by anons since I'd not have known you were responsible for that otherwise and (b) a special interest of mine I was really fucking pissed off that you were fucking up with the bullshit that special interest was an escape from.

I'm not sending anyone to do anything, moron.

Your vanity is not charming. I've talked about you lately in direct response to you talking about and misgendering me. You are discussing me too dummy.

I don't think you should be transmisogynistically harassed, but I'm absolutely fucking not responsible for someone with fifteen times the followers I have getting backlash to things like defending a 4chan slur for non-binary people. Like, no, actually, someone taking issue with that is not on me, and considering what you think counts as transmisogyny, I'm not really sure I even buy your characterization of said backlash, especially if they're "directly referencing" anything I say.

Completely unsupported by your behavior! Do you remember when you were randomly like "if you're wondering what velvetvexations is up to, she's saying you can call trans women hysterical because they don't have uteruses" when that was not what I fucking said?

I've tried making the same "I'll never mention you if you don't mention me" offer to people who obsessively stalk my blog before, including people who I would never talk about anyway because they don't have nearly the same presence on this website. I've asked them to stop screenshotting my blog and lying about me and getting anons sent to my inbox as a result. I've reported them to Tumblr, who doesn't consider it harassment. Each time the people stalking me - which is what they were actually doing to me, unlike me occasionally commenting when someone tells me you've caused some new discourse - was laughed at and told I simply deserve it or bring it upon myself.

Once again, you position yourself as a serious transfeminist activist and you have the following to back it up. You have influence in the conversation around transfeminism and as a trans woman I have a right to talk about it. Tell people to stop parroting your every word, or better yet, entirely stop kicking at trans men and non-binary people literally every day. Like literally every day you do this, it's why I can't look at your blog because it fucking repulses me.

You don't do anything to help trans women. You don't care about trans women. You care about being cruel to other trans people and using that to prop up your own crumbling ego. I would love it if your opinions weren't unfortunately popular and constantly being widely disseminated among others, but like, they are, and it's fucking disastrous for everyone involved. I don't hate you more than any other dumbass radfem.

I've helped TERFs deradicalize and retransition. You will never in your life do a quarter of what I do for transfeminism. The most you will ever accomplish is being an aggressive contrarian who's too unoriginal to come up with headcanons that weren't popular with transmascs first and claiming it a win when you say they're too stupid and shallow to interpret art correctly.

[peapodbond]

that was us part eight

aka fuck it friday

tagged by @leashybebes

skipping ahead a few parts because i can and i want to. aka 7x05 as seen through the lens of the former fiancee/current besties abbysaltommy text thread

abby texting, tommy texting, sal texting

so, how was the first date?

turns out evan is not out to anyone.

it was his first 'date with a dude', but he's an ally.

sounds like a train wreck. (sorry, abby)

that part was oddly okay? it was adorable.

his best friend showed up at the same restaurant on a date with his girlfriend. evan said that we were 'going to pick up hot chicks later'.

i ducked out of going to the movie and just went straight home after dinner.

sal, cue us up a grindr best of lineup.

wait, i want to know what tommy said about the hot chicks.

not proud of it but i made a closet joke. the friend's girlfriend is moving in so it wasn't out of nowhere. i don't think any of them caught it, actually. but it made me feel a little better.

that's my boy!

you're a menace, sal. at least it was on the first date, tommy? it could have been worse.

mm. this feels like a sign that i should take a break from dating.

as opposed to the absolute bevy of dates you've been on recently?

sal, don't be mean. when was the last time you went on a date?

all right you two, no infighting. as fun as it is to watch you argue, i'm here for some moral support.

we can do that. hey, at least you can use the helicopter rescue to land dudes.

helicopter rescue? what helicopter rescue?

it's not a big deal.

tommy flew into a fucking hurricane and found a capsized cruise ship.

oh my god. days like this i miss la. nothing like this ever happens in phoenix.

i'm lucky i didn't get fired, okay? and we are not doing a grindr lineup. one bad date is not going to get me back on the apps.

you get one week to mope and then we're going for drinks and you're flirting with someone at the bar.

that's not a bad plan, sal. i approve.

at what point do i get a say in this?

you don't.

you don't.

their text thread sits quiet for a few days and abby debates asking tommy for more details. between jordan and marcus he hasn't had much to smile about, and even though he'd only met evan two weeks ago, the way that he'd talked about him… she'd really thought that tommy's luck was about to turn around.

they're driving tess to tucson for a college tour when she finally has enough time to text tommy separately.

it was one bad date abby, i'm fine.

yeah, but you liked him. like, really liked him.

i've really liked a few guys. and i've survived. we didn't even know each other for a full month. he'll just be a great kiss and a fun evening and that's the end of it.

a great kiss, huh?

i already told you that.

let's talk once we're back from the college tour? it's been a while.

sure, but you're signing up for a party viewing of love, actually.

double feature with die hard?

…evan just texted me.

what did he say?

do you want me to go fight him.

he wants to meet for coffee.

you should do it!

hm. at least you get a free cup of coffee. he is buying, right?

sal. yes, he's buying. i really liked him, you know? up until the hot chicks it was the best date i'd been on in… a while.

definitely go, tommy. you haven't said you had the best anything in a long time. abby thinks the last time she heard tommy say something was the best he'd ever had it was when she still lived in la (but after they broke up). if it's not great, it's just coffee. it's only going to be an hour or so.

i feel like someone should play devil's advocate but abby's got a point.

sal, how about i text you if i need you to fake an emergency and leave?

no, don't approach this like it's going to go badly!

works for me. i've always got you on speed dial, buddy.

you can hide any pitchforks the two of you might have found.

so it went well?

the question is how well it went.

sal.

sal.

what? just because he's not out doesn't mean they couldn't have some fun.

he actually did come out? to his best friend and his sister. we're going to try again and go on another date.

where's he taking you?

better be somewhere fancy.

i am not telling either one of you where it is. one of the delucas would try and pop up to spy on us.

i'm in pheonix, you can tell me separately.

it would be gina. definitely. she's small and sneaky.

they're not even denying it. you can find out where we're going after he's actually out to everyone.

sal, don't ruin this for us.

what? i'm being supportive.

so where's the date?

i'm not telling you.

why not?

because you'll tell gina and gina will tell sal and someone's going to pop up like a demented jack in the box.

i resent that implication.

because it's true?

see if i watch another romcom with you, tommy kinard.

that's a dirty lie, abby clark. listen, if we survive the second date then maybe i'll tell you two snoops more about him.

i'll let gina know ;)

i always regret introducing you two.

me and gina or me and sal?

all three of you.

here's hoping date number two is better than date one.

your lips, god's ears, etc etc.

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Ten

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

The lab was busy with a few people as we stood in the middle of it, sunlight casting through the large windows. It painted the room in an orange light, brushing across the skin of my arms. Bucky was sitting on the med table in front of me, a small smile playing at his lips. I forced myself to mimic the smile but failed. 

I didn’t agree to any of this. I wasn’t happy with his choice but in the end it wasn’t my decision. It was his. 

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky reassured me. 

“I know,” I nodded. “I’m worried about what I’m going to do.” 

We had been together every day the last few years so even the mere thought of being alone scared me. 

“It won’t be for long. Shuri is going to help me,” Bucky said. 

I looked over towards the woman he was talking about, who was chatting with one of the doctors. My eyes then traveled towards the two men standing on the other side of the room, chatting amongst themselves. 

Steve and King T’challa. 

After the fight with Tony, T’challa had found us on the jet saying that he could help us. Bucky had decided that with his brain still controlled by those words, he needed to go under, back in cryo sleep, in order to get better. Shuri, T’challa’s sister, would be able to remove those words from his mind, helping it heal from his past. 

Bucky couldn’t trust his own mind anymore, he wanted this for him; for us. 

“What are you going to do?” Bucky questioned, grabbing my hand with his only one. 

It was still a weird sight to see him without the metal arm I had grown accustomed to seeing. 

“I’m not sure,” I shrugged, “I can’t really go anywhere. Our faces are plastered on every news channel.” 

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Bucky stated. 

Immediately my head shook with disagreement. I lifted his jaw up towards me, placing a soft, plump kiss on his lips. One that he had no issues returning. 

“I’d wait forever for you,” I mumbled against his lips. 

The corners of his mouth reached his eyes, the skin wrinkling. Our hearts pounded in sync with one another, our love being felt with each pulse. 

“You know what I love?” I asked. 

Bucky shrugged. 

“When you smile at me,” I kissed his lips, savoring the taste. 

Shuri had said that he wouldn’t be under for long but time was unknown between us. Out could be a few days or a couple months. Hell, it could be a few years but I refused to believe that it would be that long without him. 

His lips parted, hesitating before saying something softly. “I have to tell you something.” 

I remained silent, allowing him all the time to say what he needed. His shoulders went rigid, his pulse increasing, and he bit his lip hoping that he would be able to say what was on his mind. I could feel the nerves eating away at his insides so I cupped his face, allowing our gazes to interlock. 

“Just tell me,” I semi begged. “I won’t think anything less of you.” 

“In my backpack are my journals. They have every single one of my thoughts for the last few years. The leatherback one is for you to read. It’s part of your birthday present.” Bucky spoke, interlocking our fingers. 

“You can read the others but that one is specifically for you,” Bucky finished. 

I blew out a shaky breath to hold back the tears knowing that he had a journal of our memories together. I smiled warmly at him before giving him a passionate kiss, nibbling his bottom lip. 

We looked into each other's eyes once again, his shown with adoration and pure love. 

“I love you,” he breathed across my lips. 

My heart soared into my throat before flipping into my stomach, waking up the butterflies that laid dormant for the last few days. My fingers snaked their way through his hair, locking onto the ends and kissing him deeply. 

“I love you too,” I mumbled to him. 

Our foreheads rested against each other, savoring this moment. 

“Buck?” 

Pulling away with a sigh, I looked towards Steve and gave a small smile. 

“Are you sure about this, Buck?” He questioned. 

Bucky nodded. “I can’t trust my own mind so until I know how to control it, I think the best thing would be for me to go back under.” 

I had to look away from him, my heart shattering. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being frozen asleep again. How would we know for sure that Shuri could fix him? That he would return as the old Bucky, from the 1940’s; pre Soldat. 

“Can you promise to take care of her?” Bucky asked. 

Steve and my eyes locked, the light behind them slowly flicking at the thought of me, and he nodded to Bucky. 

The doctor mentioned that it was time for Bucky to go under so with another deep kiss, we said our goodbyes. I sucked in my bottom lip to stop it from trembling as I watched with broken eyes Bucky getting frozen in front of me. 

The scene was heartbreaking so I had to force myself to look out the windows, down towards the green fields of Wakanda. 

“Y/N?” 

Looking over my shoulder towards Steve, I forced a smile. “I’m fine.” 

He scoffed before shaking his head. “I’ve known you for a long time so I know when you’re lying.” 

“This is the first time in years that I’ll be without him. It’s stupid, to be so dependent on a man but we have this history. I don’t want to lose him again,” I admitted with a sob. 

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulder, allowing me to rest my head on him. A comforting kiss meshed with my hairline. 

“Do you want to come with me?” He asked. 

I pulled away, looking into his eyes, and shrugged. “Where? We don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t go back to my apartment in Brooklyn; we’re wanted, Steve.” 

He nodded while his gaze fell to the floor. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets. 

“So are you going to stay here?” 

“Yeah. Shuri said that I can stay in one of their tents in the field. It sounds nicer than I’m making it seem,” I added when I noticed Steve’s apprehension. 

“I can stay if you want, till you’re settled.” Steve offered. 

I agreed with a smile. “That would be nice, thank you.” 

It had been a few days since Bucky went to sleep and the tent I had started to call home started to come together. 

It was more of a shack really. There was plenty of space for two and Steve even built a make-shift kitchen and a bed for me. He promised he would make a couple of tables before he left but I mentioned that he didn’t have too; he’d already done so much. 

Shuri said that I could go see Bucky if I wanted but declined. Seeing him like that broke me so I refused to be there. I would be there when it was time to wake up. The thought of whenever I looked up to the castle of Wakanda, knowing Bucky was there getting the help he needed was enough. 

“I think you have a good spot right next to the pond for a garden,” Steve said. 

Walking out of my home, I smiled towards him. “I’ve never had a green thumb.” 

“Buck does,” he laughed. “Back in the day he would help his mom in the garden every day.” 

“Really?” I wondered with awe. 

“It was his dream. To build a farm, raise his family there, and grow old with whoever he married,” Steve said. 

I marked those words in my mind for safe keeping. 

The breeze was cool, Wakanda night fast approaching, and I wrapped the sweater closer to my body. 

“When are you leaving?” I asked. 

Steve sighed, both of our gazes staring at the small body of water in front of us. “A jet is picking me up in the morning. I’ve got a few jailbreaks to take care of.” 

There were a lot of repercussions of what happened in Germany and everyone who fought along with us were paying the price behind bars. 

“Where will you go?” I wondered. 

“I don’t know. Go into hiding, I guess.” He shrugged. 

“You’d look really good with a beard and if you grew out your hair,” I admitted with my lips curled up in a smile. 

His brows raised. “Really now?” 

A light giggle fell from my lips while I nodded. 

Silence then fell between us as we both stared back into the water. I glance towards the castle, a quick thought of if Bucky was doing okay. Steve must have seen the worried look on my face because his hand was on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. 

“He’s alright. He’s in the best hands.” 

“I know,” I nodded. 

“You’ll be fine on your own?” He questioned. 

“Yeah, I can use the time to garden or focus on my yoga,” I joked. 

Steve’s tongue rolled over his bottom lip. “I’ll miss you.” 

The butterflies had awoken for his admission and I tried to bury them deep, locking them away. 

“I’m only a quin jet ride away,” I smiled. 

Life on my own was questionable for how long but I knew that it would all be worth it when Bucky would wake. The war long behind us now and the thought of us finally being able to grow our lives together was enough to get me through this lonely time. 

[leighsartworks216]

You're Not A Burden

Zayne x gn!therapist friend!Reader

Based on my own experience as the therapist friend and my struggles with being genuine about my emotions with people close to me ✌️

Warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, childhood friends, crying, nightmares

Word Count: 1,517

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Zayne has seen this same pattern ever since you were little; the weight of being the person everyone dumps their problems onto, rants to, leans on no matter how small you may be. It's happened for so long now, he can't remember a time you weren't the one stepping up to bear the brunt of someone else's troubles.

He remembers so vividly one day during recess. Your friend was crying because one of the teachers was being mean and unfair. You held them close, let them cry into your shoulder and blubber about their troubles. And then you went into class with that same teacher, experienced that same cruelty, and held your tongue. It was never about being stronger than anyone else, or that admitting anything was wrong was a weakness; only that admitting anything was wrong would place your troubles onto somebody else.

One time, when his parents were away, he slept over at your house in a pillow fort in the living room. He woke up before you, and you had dry tears on your cheeks.

You take the burdens as easy as you take in a breath of air. Even now, in the middle of your quiet night in, your friend called to rant about their job, their relationships - anything they needed to get off their shoulders. You smiled apologetically at Zayne, kissed his cheek, and disappeared into the bedroom to finish the call without disturbing him further.

He understands, better than most, how difficult it is to watch someone suffer, physically or emotionally. How many times had he gone out of his way to ease the burden of his patients outside of medical care? Trying to get a plushie from the arcade for a girl who was too sick to get it herself. Playing chess with a lonely old man, even when it cut into his lunch breaks. But even he has limits to the burdens he carries.

He listens attentively for your voice through the closed door from his seat on the couch. Quiet hums to show you're listening. Muffled words of advice and support. The call goes on for some time, an hour or more, but not once does he hear you talk about your own struggles. Yet, he knows work has been more demanding lately, you haven't been sleeping or eating well, and you were really looking forward to an uninterrupted night in with him - information gathered through observation, more than not.

Not a single word of complaint.

He can't focus on his book, so he sets it aside in exchange for his laptop. The soft clack of keys fills the silence. It nearly drowns out your voice entirely; the typing pauses every now and then to listen when you speak. His work isn't as efficient, so focused on listening for you, but he manages to get through a few emails and a report or two.

When the door opens, he perks up like a dog whose owner just came home. His fingers are still on the keyboard as he watches you come out from the hallway, smiling apologetically once more as you tuck your phone away with a final glance.

"Sorry about that," you murmur as you sit back in your spot on the couch. He closes his laptop and sets it aside. "Lisa's been having a lot of guy troubles lately and just got back from a bad date."

He hums his acknowledgement and turns his body to face you. Cool hands grab yours, holding them in his lap as his thumbs massage into your palms and work out the tension in your fingers. "You didn't say much."

You laugh lightly, as though it's completely normal. As though it should be completely normal. "I didn't want to bother her with my own problems - she has enough of her own to deal with."

"What problems would those be?" he questions. You tense up, like you want to pull away. You don't, but you stare at the ministrations of his hands with a shake of your head.

"It's nothing."

"But if they're problems," he tilts his head, trying to catch your gaze, "shouldn't I know about them?"

You glance at him with a grin that doesn't quite meet your eyes, and a slight downturn in your brow. "You're not on duty right now, Dr. Zayne."

He lifts one of your hands to kiss your palm. Your fingers brush his cheek. He leans into them without thought. "I didn't think I had to be to listen to my partner's issues," he shoots back, shooting down your deflection. His voice grows softer. "It's unhealthy to keep negative emotions bottled up. I am always here to listen should you need to let them out."

Something stirs in your eyes. Discomfort, at being called out and exposed. Worry, and fear. You look away again. "I don't want to bother you with that stuff."

"Who said you would be bothering me? I want to hear about the issues you have, however minor they may be." He releases one of your hands to cup your cheek. He directs your face back to him, leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, stealing your ability to look away. Your eyes remain lowered, staring at his nose. "You always carry the burdens of others. Allow me to carry your burdens, before you collapse under the weight."

You're silent. He shifts his fingers slightly, resting his middle and ring finger over your pulse point just under your jaw. Your heart is beating wildly. It stutters, jumps, skips. You inhale softly.

"You..." You shake your head slightly, nose brushing his. Your free hand fiddles with your pant leg. "You don't tell me about the issues you have, either."

He smiles slightly, wryly, as though you've just started trying to deal with a shrewd businessman who can't resist haggling.

"I had a nightmare last night," he admits softly. That draws your eyes up to his, finally. "When I woke up, it felt like I was still in the dream."

"What was it about?"

He gives you a pointed look. You frown. Your hand clenches around your pant leg, like admitting anything about yourself is agonizingly painful.

"I... I haven't been eating lunch during my breaks."

It's barely admitting anything, but he hums his approval nonetheless. "I was in the hospital, but the corridors were dark. I heard your voice echoing down the halls..." Your heart skips a beat in time with your concerned look. "Why aren't you eating lunch?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, hiding from the inevitable disapproval on his face. "I haven't been sleeping well, so I've been sleeping in my car during my breaks... I... passed out once, at my desk, because I was so tired... I don't want to concern my coworkers like that again." You wait a few seconds before cracking your eyes open. Sure enough, it's his turn to frown with worry. He knew you were tired lately, but he hadn't heard anything about you passing out at work. He can only be grateful you weren't out on the field at that time. "What happens next?"

"... I can't find you." His frown deepens, eyes flickering down your face, taking you in. "No matter where I look, you're not there. And when I wake up, it takes a moment for my mind to catch up and realize you're right there beside me."

Neither of you speak. Your pulse is calm now. The dark bags under your eyes concerns him more than ever now. The daze in his eyes when you woke up this morning to find him looking over your face flickers back into memory.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. "We'll take our lunch breaks together," he tells you, leaving no room for argument. "The next time you feel faint at work, or too tired to keep going, please tell me."

You nod slowly, silently sealing a promise with him. "The next time you have a nightmare like that, you have to tell me, too."

He nods in return. "I will."

You blink, pausing, waiting for something that doesn't ever come. Waiting for him to decide your burdens are too heavy to bear, or become disillusioned with you now that you're no longer this infallible beacon of strength and dependency. But it never comes. Instead, Zayne strokes your cheek with all the tender patience in the world, rubs his nose purposefully against yours in semblance of a kiss, sits quietly with you with no expectations.

Large drops of water begin to form in your waterline. You swallow, fighting the starting tremors in your lungs. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him, helping you sit in his lap where you hug him around his neck and hide your face in his shoulder.

He kisses the side of your head as your body cries with a practiced silence, rubbing his hand in soothing motions against your back. "You're not a burden for having problems, or for sharing them with others," he whispers. "You don't have to carry everything alone anymore."

---

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[jjtheresidentbaby]

regressuary day 1: bathing/washing

» for @regressuary & link to bingo card here

» cg!vi & rg!caitlyn & cg!ekko | on my ao3 | wrd count: 2.1k+

» summary: vi finds cait beaten in an alleyway without an explanation as to why and has to care for her, thankfully ekko shows up to help

» tags: arcane agere, set sometime in season 1, hurt/comfort, injuries & blood, other enforcers hurting cait, mentioned undercity & piltover conflict, slight baby talk, nicknames

Vi scoops Caitlyn into her arms carefully, swallowing hard when she hears Cait whine in pain before clinging herself to Vi as tight as she can.

Vi isn’t sure what happened that left Caitlyn in the state she’s in: her enforcer uniform torn, scrapes at her knees, blood on her knuckles, a bruise blooming over her left eye and a split lip on her right. It’s obvious she’s been fighting, Vi just wish she knew who and why.

“Let’s get you home.” She starts the trek from the hidden alleyway towards the Kiramman property but is quickly stopped when Cait lifts her head with a shake.

“Can’t go home.” Caitlyn more mumbles than anything which worries Vi, did she hit her head? Should Vi be taking her to a doctor rather than home for some at-home-patchwork?

“Did you bump your head honey?” Truly Vi doesn’t know why she takes the soft and gentle tone with Cait when nine times out of ten they’re pretty brash with one another, but it seems to help Caitlyn relax a little.

“No jus’ my face got hurt.” Under the streetlights Vi is able to see how nasty the bruise she has really is. It’ll take weeks for that thing to fade and Vi thinks she’ll start to feel her own face ache if she keeps staring.

“Okay, I’ll talk you to my place.” Not that she really wants to take Cait in her enforcer uniform down to the Undercity but she doesn’t see any other option.

-

It’s rough to get to the lanes with Cait cradled in Vi’s arms but she manages somehow and only gets a couple winces from Cait. They haven’t been talking back and forth and that’s worrying Vi so she’s been trying to fill the silence on her own.

“One day I’ll talk you into eating the food down here, it’s better than it looks.” There’s so many people out tonight and every few steps Vi almost knocks into someone. It’s making her buzz with anxious energy.

“Oh and I’ll show you where me and Ekko used to train as kids, you’ll like it there. Would you wanna do that cupcake?” The nickname sounds far too dainty coming from Vi’s mouth right now, Cait nuzzles her face in further to Vi’s neck with a small nod, only making Vi more nervous. Caitlyn has never been this quiet around Vi, even when they were about to talk to the Councilors she was muttering about what to say and what not to.

“Vi?” The redhead stops in her tracks at the voice calling her name from in front of her- as if they just summoned him, it’s Ekko. At least it’s not someone looking to settle a decade old score.

“Hey Ekko.” Protectively Vi tugs Cait closer despite knowing fully well that Ekko is everything but a threat.

“I heard you were walking through the lanes carrying an enforcer around.” Ekko smirks a little as he crosses his arms and Vi falters to reply.

“Who told you that? I haven’t been down here that long.” Anyone could’ve told Ekko and the Undercity moves so quickly it’s really a useless line of questioning.

“When someone has a beaten enforcer held in their arms like a baby, it gets around pretty fast. So, you and Caitlyn get into a fight or something?” A scowl appears on Vi’s face, nearly disgusted by the thought of her doing this to Cait. Ekko just shakes his head at the expression.

“I found her like this, I don’t know what happened.” They start to walk again, Ekko leading Vi towards the path that will bring them to the firelights base, which she’s thankful for. It’ll be safer for Cait to be there than the rickety old apartment Vi’s been staying in.

“You just found her? How did you know she was hurt?”

“I didn’t. I… I was going to see if she’d let me crash for the night but she wasn’t home when I snuck in so I thought she was on patrol for the night and that’s when I found her. Nobody else was around and she hasn’t said anything about what happened.” Part of Vi thinks the other enforcers did this, Cait said she was having problems with a couple of them the last time Vi stayed over. If it’s true, she doubts Cait will want to give them up. That job means so much to her.

“You guys can stay with us tonight. I have a place you can clean her up and patch those wounds.” There’s definitely more Ekko wants to say but he’s holding back, probably because they’re still in public, Vi can’t blame him. She feels unnerved walking around like this even if nobody’s said anything to them or done more than shoot Vi a strange look.

“Thanks Ekko.”

-

The firelights base is just as lively and inviting as the first time Vi came in here: people buzzing around with smiles on their faces, fresh air wafting into Vi’s senses in a much nicer way than the lingering smog in the lanes, and most of all, this bass feels safe. Vi doesn’t see a single weapon around or even an angry face seeing Caitlyn’s enforcer uniform when they pass groups of people.

“I’ll go grab some water, you can untangle her from you.” There’s half a chuckle that Vi rolls her eyes at. Cait still hasn’t moved so much as an inch away from Vi, maybe Ekko’s right about untangling her being its own task.

“Hey cupcake we’re safe in here, you can take a bath and I’ll patch you up.” Gently Vi wraps a hand around the back of Cait’s head, still using the other to hold Cait up.

“Mhm.” Is the muffled reply she gets and Caitlyn’s hands gripping Vi’s jacket harder.

“Is that so? Well Ekko is being very nice by letting us use his bath, don’t you think we should oh I don’t know… actually use it?” Her voice falls to the one she’d pull out when Powder was being fussy about something when they were younger: all soft and playful teasing, nothing harsh that could make the kid feel worse. Which is funny to think about, considering Cait is not a kid and is far from it but- Vi thinks she needs to be babied a little right now.

“Hur’s.” It’s slurred and young sounding, Vi sucks in a breath. She hates seeing Cait like this when she’s usually so strong and put together.

“Oh honey. The bath will help it not hurt, okay? I’ll clean you up nice and good.” It’s not necessarily a lie but Vi isn’t sure if patching Cait’s wounds will cause less pain than what she’s already in. It has to be done though.

“That’s it little one.” Slowly, almost like she’s afraid Vi is going to disappear into thin air if she’s too far away, Caitlyn lets go of her and Vi’s able to sit her up on a chair next to the unfilled bath.

Cait looks even smaller than before. Her arms are tucked into her chest instantly, big doe eyes staring up at Vi in waiting with a wet blink, shoulders hunched together, and Vi swears there’s even a pout in her bottom lip. It makes Vi want to pull her right back up to her chest and apologize for ever putting her down until she’s blue in the face.

“Hey you got her down.” Thankfully Ekko comes back into the room with buckets of water before Vi can act on gut instinct alone and have to start the process of getting Cait to let go of her all over again.

“That should warm up quickly.” Ekko kneels on the floor for a minute, flipping a switch so some type of heating system beneath the tub starts up. Vi makes a mental note to ask how he came up with that later on.

“Stay.” Before Ekko can walk past the girls and leave them alone, Cait reaches a hand out to stop his wrist.

The room pauses for a beat until Caitlyn’s face falls and she instantly reels her hand back as if it’s been burned. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment but Ekko only smiles softly, kneeling beside the chair and taking Cait’s trembling hand into his own.

“That’s alright princess, I can stay.” He assures and gives a kiss to the top of Cait’s hand. Vi feels something like happiness swell in her chest seeing the only family she’s really got interacting in good faith. With how Cait and Powder interacted before… she’s more than grateful Ekko is being kind to Caitlyn even under the circumstances.

-

“Do you think you can talk blue?” Ekko is busy distracting Cait where she sits in the tub while Vi tends to the wound on the back of her shoulders. Vi can’t tell what the slice is from or how Caitlyn hasn’t been crying in pain from it. It’s long and thick, maybe a sword? But it’s not deep enough to hit anything major but still has crimson blood dribbling down it slowly.

“I can talk, m’big.” A short laugh comes from Ekko and he reaches to brush some hair off Cait’s face. Him and Vi had a quick conversation as Cait undressed about Caitlyn possibly being in a younger headspace than normal, Vi is only starting to believe Ekko’s theory more and more.

“That’s good. Do you know who did this to you?” A small whimper comes from Cait’s chest, Vi isn’t sure if it’s because she’s pressing antiseptic to her wound or because of Ekko’s question.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I’m almost done.” She murmurs just incase it is the pain causing Cait to shrink in on herself.

“And we won’t tell anyone you don’t want us to if you tell us who hurt you.” Ekko glances behind Cait’s shoulder to share a stern look with Vi- no they won’t tell anyone about who hurt Caitlyn, they won’t need to, they’ll be able to handle whoever it is on their own.

“Was the other enforcers.” ‘Enforcers’ comes out in a mumbled lisp with a sniffle that only makes the rage that quickly starts to simmer in Vi burn hotter.

“They don’t like me ‘cause I’m not like them.” From the angle Vi is leaning over the tub at, she can see how Ekko rubs his thumb at Cait’s cheek while simultaneously clenching his jaw so hard Vi can almost hear them grinding together.

“What do you mean you’re not like them?” Cait shrugs and looks away from Ekko, hands moving the water around her anxiously. She hesitates for a moment before going to speak again.

“I like you guys. I care bout you.” They don’t like her because she’s friends with people from the Undercity, because she actually gives a damn about what happens down here.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, and you don’t deserve to get hurt for it. I’m sorry that they did that.” Vi leans herself to press her cheek to the top of Caitlyn’s shoulder where the cut doesn’t reach, Cait easily drops her head atop Vi’s, getting Vi’s hair and face wet in the process but it doesn’t matter.

“Do you know their names?” The gears turning in Ekko’s head are practically as audible as his teeth grinding, Vi can’t wait to hear what he’s planning to do to those bastards.

“Mhm. Uh Johnny, Charlotte and um.. Triv? I don’t know them very well. I fought back but..” She trails off and lifts her hands out of the water, her busted knuckles still red with the dried blood that hasn’t fully washed away.

“You did amazing baby, you did everything you could outnumbered like that.” Vi shifts to press a quick kiss to Cait’s damp skin. She really is proud of Cait for fighting back against the other enforcers, she knows it couldn’t have been easy.

“I stay the night?” One of Caitlyn’s hands reaches to rub clumsily at her eyes before she yawns all small and childish.

“Of course you can. I’ll go get some clothes for you and Vi can dry you off.” Ekko stands and grabs a towel to hand Vi before disappearing out of the room.

Vi almost expects Ekko to go off right then and there and track those enforcers down to get them back for hurting Cait but he comes back quickly with some clothes and blankets. It’s not til Cait is asleep and Professor Heimerdinger is sat by her bed that Ekko and Vi go up to Piltover to defend Caitlyn. They return out of breath and a little bruised up but before Cait wakes up. The three of them spend the rest of the night snuggled up together and safe.

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

Im incredibly amused by everyone loving junior’s presence in my blue team piece and i agree!!!!! he deserves to be included more!

H o w e v e r

Fuck drawing sangheili! Theyre so *gestures vaguely* and actually u know what??? vague is probably the easiest way to describe them bc u want to find a consistent visual on what their mandibles look like? Good fucking luck man

Furry sangheili artists dont know what theyre doing either ive LOOKED ok like i hoped maybe MAYBE the furry community in all their diversity could help me figure out a semi consistent way to draw these funky aliens and not a single artist agrees on their general shapes like

Im face down on the ground man drawing aliens that have a new model with every version of them is fucking Hard man ok i get why more people dont draw junior

If you have figured it out please share im dying

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[meamiki]

a star being appeared in your apartment, wdyd?

(aka loop getting reverse isekaied into the modern office au)

also there are some scattered mumblings on loop in this AU under the cut actually in an rb now link right here if anyone's interested (spoilers for all of ISAT, including 2hats!)

[wildflowercryptid]

something that's been weighing on my mind ever since learning about the situation with ezra / toonimal is seeing how these predators will take the active hostility that is frequently directed towards minors in online spaces to their advantage and use it to prey on vulnerable children. i think that we as adults in online fandom should probably come together and maybe rethink the language / manner we go about interacting with kids bc clearly the way things are rn is causing active harm.

like obviously, if you're an adult and aren't comfortable with minors interacting with you or your content, you should be allowed to set that boundary and should be vocal about it, ( especially if the content you create isn't safe for them to consume. ) but i don't think talking to them like they're a blight on all that is good and holy is the way to go about it. maybe just saying you're an 18 plus account will suffice, you don't have to tell them to fuck off.

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

only hot girls get emotional about the relationship between jesus and judas every night

[medicinemane]

.

[screechingsandwichhologram]

my uninformed american opinion is that i will be calling it derry not londonderry because im american and therefore will always support ireland if its ireland vs the british.

(i wasn't even going to post this but i wrote a whole essay in the tags so i don't want to waste that)

[fakemagicjaye]

I HAVE FIVE PAGES. LEFT. TO DRAW.

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

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: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. 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”.

A/N: 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!!! :)

[stunie]

i just WOKE UP !!?????!!!!!!

2024.07.15 — dinner date with Ume. ♡

(hands up if you know where the reference photo’s froooommmmm!!!! >:3 aju nice.)