#i should get drunk. i wonder if i have anything in the cabinet

[lesbiandarvey]

IM FREEE IM DONE FOR THE WEEKEND HAPPY FRIDAY!!!!!!

[wardenparker]

Woo hoo! Way to go on the 2.5k followers! You deserve it

I would like to request Joel Miller w/ “put me down”

Pre-outbreak Joel Miller 1,642 words. "Put me down." Co-written with @absurdthirst

Reader has been drinking. Established relationship. Jealousy.

Joel rolls his eyes, wondering again what the hell is in the air tonight. He���s glad Sarah has already gone to bed, although she would probably be snickering at the scene. “Babe, maybe you should slow down.” He grunts swiping the beer bottle that he had been nursing and tossing it into the trash.

“Baby, it’s game day,” you protest with a giggle, even though you know he’s probably right. You made your sangria much stronger than usual and you’ve had more than a few cups while hanging out with his friends.

“Yeah it is.” You’re having fun, which is something that he would normally never deny you. Although it seems like you’ve gotten a little….boisterous in the last half hour. “How about we get a sandwich?” He suggests, thinking the bread would be good to help counteract the wine sloshing around in your stomach.

"But we have so many snacks!" The remnants of a chip and veggies and dip plate, the garnishes from a pile of wings, and the last two cookies from the batch Tommy baked are all out on the counter around you, but none of it constitutes actual eating.

He snorts, shaking his head at your wild flailing as you gesture around the counter and miss when you go to grab a chip. “Yep, sandwich.” He grunts to himself, turning around to grab the loaf of bread off the counter. “Or a wrap?”

"Can you be my wrap?" Alright, so you might be a bit tipsy. If the intense giggling from your silly joke is any indication. That doesn't mean you don't want to take advantage of the fact that you're the only two people in the kitchen right now to snuggle up with your boyfriend.

That makes him laugh, rolling his eyes at your antics and he turns to press his lips to your forehead. “You’re drunk.” He accuses fondly.

"Not totally," you protest, pouting at him as deeply as possible.

“Totally.” Joel laughs, leaning in and squashing your lips between his fingers playfully until you pull back. “Eat a wrap then you can have a glass of water.”

"And a kiss." Tacking that onto the end with a grin, you pull your arms around him so he can't pull away to do anything – let alone make a wrap or get a glass of water.

“And a kiss.” If you hadn’t almost started a fight, your possessiveness might be cute. Amusing even. But you had almost been ready to throw hands and he didn’t need the cops showing up here tonight.

"Oh-kay." The pleasant buzzing in your head and the fact that that bitch Larry Anderson had brought with him isn't in here to eye fuck Joel, combine to put you in a very amenable mood.

“Good.” He pecks your lips and reaches behind you to open the fridge. “Ham, or…ham?” He asks, the fridge slightly bare, but in his defense, he had been buying for the party and not wraps.

You hum, pretending to think really really hard, and realize you've forgotten the question while you were screwing up your face into comical expressions. "Ummm...wine?"

“Jesus.” Joel rolls his eyes and moves to the cabinet beside the fridge. “Water now.” He orders, tone a little sharper than before. He doesn’t want you with a bitch of a hangover tomorrow.

"Don't be mad." A pout overtakes your face immediately, but you lean against the kitchen counter and prepare to take whatever Joel dishes out. Even tipsy you know you probably overdid it earlier. It's not your fault that girl wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

“I’m not.” He grabs a plastic cup, not even trusting you with a glass one at this point. “I just want you to be well hydrated.”

"Well..." The best you can do is shrug, but you're still pouting. "You sound mad."

“And I always look like an asshole.” Joel reminds you with a small chuckle. “So….?”

"I had to be mean to her." He pulls one of Sarah's plastic cups out of the cupboard and moves back to the fridge to fill it with cold, filtered water. "She was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, baby."

“Doesn’t matter.” He reminds with, turning around to hand the cup to you with a smirk. “I’m yours.”

Joel always takes care of you, and you know that even after two too many glasses of sangria, so you take the water cup dutifully. "I knowww. You're my piece of meat. But she wasn't respecting that and that's not okay."

“You don’t need to worry.” He promises softly, moving back to the fridge. “She doesn’t have anything on you.”

"I trust you," you clarify, dutifully sipping the water that he's gotten for you. Joel's loyalty has never been in question. Not when you were friends, not when you crossed the line into dating, and not now that you're living with him and Sarah. But the sangria had made you feisty and that was that.

“Good.” He chuckles as he slaps together some ham and a thick slice of that Muenster cheese you insist is better than Kraft. “Because you are the one sleeping in my bed, hogging the covers.”

"I keep telling youuuu." The singsong in your voice is interrupted by another drink of water. "We need a king-sized blanket. A big blanket. For us two hogs."

“I just will shiver every night.” He teases, folding the wrap up like a letter and handing it to you to eat. It wasn’t pretty, but he never claimed to be a good cook.

"But we could be warm snuggly burritos!" You insist, which is always the argument you give for why you should get an extra-large blanket for the queen sized bed you share, but this time you take a dramatic bite of the wrap he's made for you to punctuate your point.

“You would just steal all of those covers too.” He reminds you, leaning back against the counter as he eat watches you eat.

Giggling, you hold up one finger, crushing your wrap into an accordioned lump in the process. "One snuggly burrito."

“You might be a little cute when you’re this drunk.” Joel huffs, folding his arms over his chest.

"Baby..." Trying very hard to make your face serious fails spectacularly, and you end up giggling again. "I'm always cute. You said so."

“I did, didn’t I?” He huffs. “Finish eating and we’ll go back out to the party.” He bribes.

“Okayyyyyy.” It doesn’t stop you from leaning into his side though, and Joel lets you snuggle him without protest or question.

You eat the wrap quickly, making Joel think that one of your problems might be that you haven’t eaten today. When you reach for the veggies and dip, he encourages you to eat some of it too, not wanting you to have just the wrap on your stomach. Not having realized you were hungry in the first place, you’ve now eaten an entire meal standing in the kitchen and the pout you give Joel afterward intensifies. “Now I’m sleepy…” you huff, indignant at yourself for daring to be tired during a house party. Even a small one.

He chuckles quietly and pushes off the counter to walk over to where you had drifted away from him. Grazing off the table. Smirking, he bends down and scoops you up, about to carry you upstairs.

The squawk you let out could raise the dead, but he laughs so it ends up in half-hearted huffing and puffing as he carries you up the backstairs. “Put me doooowwwn! I can walk!” Not that you actually want him to, of course. Being manhandled by Joel is a privilege.

He smacks your ass, laughing again when you squeal. “No.” He tells you, continuing to climb the stairs. “You’ll go back out into the living room and fight that girl.”

“She put her tits in your face!” You groan, not bothering to fight as more stairs pass under Joel’s feet. He’s far stronger than you anyway. “Only my tits go in your face.”

You’re possessive when you’re drunk and it’s kind of hot. “I like your tits in my face.” He hums, grabbing your ass this time instead of slapping it. “That’s why I stood up. So she couldn’t do that.”

“And I like your little pancake ass,” you giggle, smacking his ass as he goes. Slinging you over his shoulder was a tactical error on Joel’s part.

“Hey.” Joel’s step falters and he snorts as you start to giggle. “Payback, huh?”

“Yep!” Another bright giggle breaks through as he hits the top step.

“You need to go to bed.” He huffs, shaking his head.

He carries you into the bedroom, only setting you down again when it can be directly on the bed. Before he can step away, though, you reach up to snag the edge of Joel's t-shirt and give him a soft smile. "I love you, baby."

“I love you too.” He promises, leaning back down to kiss you softly. “Lay down, I’ll get you some aspirin and water.”

"Then cuddles?" When you're tipsy – or drunk – it's not hard to turn almost any expression into wide, pleading eyes. In this case, it's the wide and pleading eyes that you know Joel just can't resist.

Joel sighs softly, knowing you are feeling a little vulnerable and he nods. “Fuck ‘em.” He decides. “Tommy can keep their asses in line.” He tells you as he brings the bottle of Advil and the cup of water from the bathroom.

“Cuddles!” Maybe it’s simple of you, but ending any night in Joel’s arms is all you want. All you’ve wanted for years now. The day you went from friends to lovers was a gift, and that gift is just as precious to you now as it was then.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[wonik1ss]

met your match — ye.i

pairing : player yeji x f!reader

song rec : main thing - madison reyes + cinderella - seori

To sum it up Yeji was a player. She dated 2 to 5 people at the same time. You may be wondering why she never got caught or how no one has wonder people about her ways. We’ll let’s just say Yeji isn’t the person to mess with, her family basically owns the school so no one wants to mess with her.

Tonight Yeji went to the start of the year bash her bff Chaeryoung always threw. Chaeryoung was basically a dumb blonde just with black hair. That’s why Yeji loved her so much, she was just so easy to control.

“ Chaeryoung where’s the beer? “. Yeji yelled from the kitchen to the living room where Chaeryoung was dancing, with some random dudes. “ I think in the cabinet to the left “. Chaeryoung said as she winked at the boys and went to help Yeji. “Oh here they are “. Yeji took out all the beer bottles as they got snatched up by the already, drunken party people.

“ Ji who is that? “. Chaeryoung said as she took one of the last beers. As Yeji looked up to see who Chaeryoung was talking about, she smirked. “ My next target “. Chaeryoung wished her luck as Yeji took another beer and walked over to you. Her eyes grew dark as she looked at you, her new prey. Yeji was so good at being a player just from a few movements she could tell what kinda person you where.

A “ Long-time “. A girl who wanted to have a longtime relationship, a girl who tended to be a little to clingy, a girl who would obey Yeji. “ Hi want a beer “. Yeji said as she smiled at you and as she finally meet your eyes she almost froze. “fuck.. “. Yeji said under her breath as she took a second glance at you. Somehow you were a long time and a short time girlfriend. What fun this would be.

“ Sure I guess “. You said as you took the drink examining it to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with. “ I didn’t put anything in it.. You can ask her “. Yeji said as she pointed to Chaeryoung. Grinding on another guy. You nodded as you took a big sip. “ Woah.. you should take your time with that “. Yeji said as she slyly put a hand around your waist.

“ I’m trying to get waisted so I won’t have to go to school tomorrow. Don’t worry about me “. You said as you threw your head back and started to giggle. “ Wanna dance? “. Yeji yelled over the blaring music. “ Sure ! “.

As Yeji dragged you to the dance floor, all you could feel was like it was the time of you life. With one of the most prettiest girls at the party. While Yeji was looking at all the men and women of the party warning them to back of you. “ This is so much- “.

WEE WOO WEE WOO

“ Shit “. Yeji said as she dragged you to her car. “ What’s wrong hot stuff “. You slurred to the taller girl who buckled you into her car. “ The cops are here we have to go.. and what’s your address “. Yeji said as she started up her car. “ I think it’s… ### drive? “. You said as you rolled down the window and giggled. Yeji sighed as she tapped the address into her car and headed to your place.

“ Where here “. Yeji said as she got out of her car, as you struggled to get out of the passenger seat. “ Don’t move I’ll carry you “. Yeji said as she picked you up bridal style and walked up the sets to your home. “ Did we get married? “. You asked worry clearly on your face. Yeji laughed. “ No we eloped “. You nodded as Yeji let you stand up on your own and got your keys to open your door. “ Thanks for the night hot stuff “. You said as you winked at Yeji walking backwards and immediately falling in the couch. “ Your welcome pretty girl “.

-

After that party the games begun. Yeji started to constantly flirt with you. She always invited you to eat lunch with her and party with her; and though it did take sometime, she got you to be her girlfriend. Right now you were just at another one of the party’s she always threw.

“ Where’s Y/n? “. Yeji said worriedly to Chaeryoung who was as drunk as a skunk. “ I don’t know.. Think I saw her with Jake S or B…!” Yeji nodded and left her friend on the dance floor to find you.

You so she was looking for you because she wanted to tell you that she loved you. She broke up with her other relationships, cleared her name of being a ‘bag girl, and stuck to you like glue because she loved you.

-

“ That’s Not funny Yeji ! “. You said as she laughed at your face. It was one of your date nights and you never watched Chucky before so she decided to scare you with it. “ It is when you jump on me like that after seeing a doll with a chainsaw “. Yeji giggled as you go to leave. “ Maybe I should have just joined Chaeryoung and Yuna at the mall “. You said as you got your stuff ready to leave.

Yuna was a ‘new recruit’ the to your group, she just moved here and Chaeryoung has now dubbed her, her child. Yeji sprung up and grabbed you. “ Hay I was just joking baby “. You rolled your eyes “ Jokes are supposed to be funny Ji “. She took both of your hands and put them on her waist. “ I’m sorry.. but you can’t stay mad at me forever. She said as she cupped your cheeks and leaned in for a kiss. “ We’re watching Finding Nemo then “. You said as the kids ended and, you left the taller girl standing in shock. “ But- “. “ No buts if you wanna keep your girlfriend happy “. You said as Yeji smiled.

That’s when she new she was really in love with you. She always just messed around because she never trusted any with her heart. Also because it was fun seeing girls cry made her happy. Having such a power over both genders was thrilling to Yeji. Just this year she had broken 50 hearts.. but now she wanted to settle down. Her play girl era was done.

-

“ Y/N “. Yeji yelled as she ran up the stairs to look for you.

“ Y/N !! “.

“ I think she’s with that new kid Ryujin somewhere around here “. Jake S said.

“ Thanks ! “. Yeji yelled to Jake S as she ran to find you. She was finally able to say she loved someone and she coul-

“ Y/n.. “. Yeji stood in shock. As you and Ryujin got of eachother. You were both making out on Yeji’s dresser. “ What’s going on.. “. Yeji said as her heart started to break. You tried to wipe your lips of Ryujins lipstick but it stayed all over your face.. and neck. “ We were just playing!! “. You said worriedly as your face slowly changed to a smirk. “ Is that what you want me to say “. You said as you got closer to the girl. “ That’s what you said to my friend after all.. “.

Yeji looked at you confused. “ What do you mean Y/n.. “. You closed the door and looked up at the girl. “ Your telling me you don’t remember Lia? “. Yeji shock her head. “ You usually mess around with people for a month or so.. you messed around with her for a year “. “ She was so heartbroken she left my school and never came back “. You laughed. “ You even went as far to go to a whole other school to screw with a girl who did nothing to you “.

“ But I’ve changed! “. Yeji said as she got closer you. “ I.. I love you Y/n “.

Your smiled dropped. “ Just like you loved Lia.. she told me all about it every single day you said you loved her and then you went to hook up with some other boy or girl “.

“ I’m not lying Y/n I really- “.

“ SHUT UP “. “ Cause I don’t love you.. you were just an easy game I could play.. like Lia was to you “.

Yeji’s face dropped. She really thought you loved her because she loved you so much. “ So the movies and the party’s I held for you meant.. nothing to you.. “. You nodded as you got face to face with the girl and said.

“ You’ve meet your match Hwang Yeji “.

[jaembun]

i can’t get over you.

you’re not together, and you never check your inbox. he carries on anyway ！⠀⸻⠀lee donghyuck x gnr ⠀ angst (?) fwb au voicemail format ⠀ cw mentions of drinking & vomiting suggestive (ish) ⠀ wc 1.6k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀writing a whole ex fwbs smau aint enough nooo i gotta write ts too 🤦‍♂️

⠀☆⠀00:12 AM

wow. that was—great. i had a good time, and i hope you did too. i think your phone’s dead, because you were all over chenle asking to borrow his, so maybe you’ll only hear this in the morning.  [he laughs]  i hope the hangover isn’t too awful tomorrow. my hip doesn’t hurt too bad from whacking it on that counter, in case you were wondering. i didn’t know you were gonna lift me like that, that was crazy! mark gave me a weird look when i came back to the others, but he always looks like that after a few shots—like he’s just sucked on a lemon. anyway, goodnight. get back to me soon, yeah? maybe we could do that again—it doesn’t have to be serious, no labels or anything. just a bit of fun between friends.

⠀☆⠀11:35 PM

[whispering]  my phone’s the one nearly dead this time. eight percent, so i gotta make it quick. tonight was.. really nice. thanks again. the takeout was really cool of you too, and i’ll pay you back when i get in. i’m talking so quiet ‘cause im in an uber, and i think i just saw the driver giving me a dirty look through the mirror. he has his own playlist on—i mean, unless there’s a new radio station called ‘on the grind’ with two fire emojis and, like, the one of the arm flexing? it’s all been pretty bad stuff so far, but there was this one song, and—it kinda reminded me of you, a bit.  [a pause, before he brushes over it]  i tried to shazam it because i’d look weird leaning over the console to see what it was called, but it was over by then. bummer! we’re coming up on my street now, though, and i’m on three percent now, so i’ll go. see you soon?

⠀☆⠀09:47 PM

injunnie asked me about that mark you left. i made up something about my kitchen cabinet door, but i know he didn’t really believe me. he had that look in his eye, you know? that one where it feels like he sees right through you. anyway.. maybe we should keep them somewhere less noticeable next time? we’re not—you know.

i’m going out with mark and chenle tonight. they’re doing a two-for-one on cocktails and there’s karaoke, so i think it’ll be fun. i probably won’t see it ‘til tomorrow, but call back when you hear this.  [he laughs]  or if i am still up and drunk when you call then you can sing me a lullaby, yeah?  [an awkward pause]  uh. i’ll just—talk to you later.

⠀☆⠀10:26 AM

[hesitant]  oh my god. i didn’t—sorry. i should’ve told you i had someone over. i completely forgot about the brunch thing, it’s my fault. kind of a dick move, too, i really am sorry. i don’t know how to.. i’ll buy you dinner, or something. to make it up to you.

[a prolonged pause]

[haltingly]  that—that was just a one-time thing, though. just.. just in case you were wondering. it won’t happen again. 

[another pause, and the sound of him shifting in his place]

so, um. yeah. i just wanted to apologise, ‘cause you were gone before i could get the chance. call me when you hear this? if you want to, that is.

⠀☆⠀00:03 AM

i guess.. i guess you’re busy, or something. sorry. i know it’s late. you’re probably asleep. or working? renjun told me you’re on night shifts now.. did it slip your mind with me? or maybe you’ve told me already, i don’t know. i think my memory’s been getting worse lately.  [a scoffed laugh]  fuck, maybe you’re with—you know. someone else? that’d be fine, obviously, i know we’re not.. yeah. hell, i was the one who said we weren’t gonna be exclusive.

[a pause]

i haven’t been, um. seeing anyone else, though. not since that last time. it’s just you. but if you were, then.. anyway. i heard jeno tell you his friend was single the other day. that jaemin guy? and that restaurant downtown would be nice for a night out, tonight. they do that salad you like, and—and the side dishes. 

[a second pause. he takes a breath in]

i think.. i think i need a drink. text me once you listen to this?

⠀☆⠀11:58 PM

[sounding a little breathless]  hi! i think im going to fill your inbox up at this point. maybe the reception’s bad in the taxi. but anyway—i had fun tonight. again. i.. i missed you, you know?  [a giggle]  wow, i think i feel a little light-headed. in a good way, obviously. i almost forgot what it was like with you. oh! and the actual reason i called—you left your hoodie here. better come grab it soon, or i’ll have it for myself. you can never have too many clothes.  [he stops for a moment]  does that sound too.. ah, nevermind. i hope you get home alright. talk to you tomorrow, baby.

⠀☆⠀10:49 PM

renjun asked me what we were doing. i knew he probably knew—or at least, like, had an idea of what was going on—but it still surprised me. nearly choked on my drink when he sprung it on me out of nowhere. i thought he just wanted to get lunch. i told him the truth—that we’re just.. messing around. he’s not gonna tell any of the others, so don’t worry. he thought—  [a stilted laugh]  he thought that we were together. but.. well. we’re not, obviously.

[a pause. he mumbles something to himself, cuts himself off, then tries again]

did jeno give you jaemin’s number? he had that gross grin on his face the other night, that same one he did when he kept trying to set chenle up on a blind date. and you never did tell me if you were out with him the other night. not that it, like, matters. but still.

[a second, longer pause]

anyway. i think i’m gonna go to bed. can we get dinner soon? i’ll pay.

⠀☆⠀11:18 PM

hey.  [a small pause]  i don’t know why i’m calling, really. i’m just at my apartment. watching reruns and drinking through that wine chenle gave me—which is awful, by the way. i think he was just trying to get it out of his fridge by offloading it onto me.

that movie you told me you watched all the time back in uni was on earlier. i would’ve called then, but my phone was dead, so i kept it on. it was pretty good, actually. kinda.. sappy. but in a good way. romantic, i don’t know. romcoms have never really been my thing, but i know they’re yours, so.. yeah.  [a tired laugh, and a pause. the tv is faintly audible in the background]  i didn’t know i could get wine tipsy this early. maybe that’s why i called out of the blue? ah, i don’t know. i’ll go now, though—this episode’s just starting to get interesting. let’s talk later.

⠀☆⠀01:21 AM

[he’s yelling, almost, struggling to be heard over the beat of the song blasting through the speakers]  yah, why did you dip? i was—i was looking forward to tonight, you know. jeno is boring, and mark is a lightweight, and jisung steps on my feet when we dance. it would’ve been way better with you here. and i miss you, baby. they need to fire the DJ here, because they’re seriously awful. i might just ditch the rest and come find you instead.

[he stops, considering it]

actually.. yeah. you won’t mind, will you? yah, pick up, c’mon. call me back, ‘cause i’m on my way to your apartment. i’ll buy a bottle of malibu on the way so it won’t taste as awful when we throw it up later, and you can set up that speaker chenle got you last year, because i know you probably still have it stuffed in a closet somewhere.  [his voice returns to normal volume, and the music is abruptly significantly quieter]  get your dancing shoes on, baby. and.. take your shirt off?  [he giggles, and his laughter interrupts his goodbye]  i’ll be there soon!

⠀☆⠀02:17 AM

fuck. can’t you just—can you pick up? please? i need it, i need you to hear this. i feel like i’m going insane, it’s fucked up.  [a pause, and a slightly shaky breath]  why did i say that? why did i say no labels? fucking.. fucking mark and shots and that bruise from that fucking counter. i’ve drank too much, and i hope i forget i’ve said this in the morning, but i—i need to know. it’s just you for me. that time with that guy was stupid, and i should’ve kicked him out as soon as i woke up, but i knew about brunch and i knew you’d be coming over and i was feeling petty so i just thought.. i thought you’d get jealous, i don’t know. it was stupid. i’m sorry for lying, baby. i didn’t mean to. is it—is it just me for you too? did you save jaemin’s number? did you text him? please tell me you didn’t. he doesn’t know anything about you, not like i do. i still have your hoodie, and renjun thinks i need to get my shit together, and chenle nearly threw up on my shoes on the way out the bar, and i just.. i want you. i want you so bad, it’s killing me.

[a long pause. his mumbling is inaudible]

call me back when you hear this.

[jaywhere]

moom, dad and dad are fighting over which of them is the most fucked up again :(

poolverine wip extend, ~7k. i have been confined to my tablet with a bluetooth keyboard so she is no doubt extremely messy and i am also too lazy to post in parts so we will all have to deal with that! skip to *** for the new stuff, follow-up to HER

The doorframe rattles when Logan slams it shut.

With a sigh, he shrugs off his jacket. He makes a half-hearted attempt at hanging it on one of the hooks off to the right before giving up and allowing it to slump onto the floor. His feet drag, toes catching clumsily against the transitional swell between his living room’s wood paneling and the kitchenette’s linoleum.

The world is already tolerably fuzzy as he slams open the cabinet door. Logan closes his eyes against the sound of one of his neighbors showering and crickets chirping in the distance. He pulls out a half-empty bottle of whiskey, pops out the cork, and tilts his head back to take a few slow glugs. The alcohol slides down his throat, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The thunk of glass against the lacquered countertop echoes.

Today had not been a good day. The last few days hadn’t been good, really — although Logan’s not sure he’s ever had a good day. But the last few had been worse than usual. The kind of days that suck you dry, leave you nothing but a husk of a man at the end of ‘em. Logan glancces down at the bottle in his hand, wondering if he should down the whole thing now.

He squints. It looks significantly more full than he remembers.

It isn’t until the bathroom door swings open to release a cavalcade of barefoot footfalls and a cloud of hot steam, that Logan realizes it hadn’t been one of his neighbors showering.

“Logan Wolverine,” Wade Wilson announces, leveling an accusatory loofah brush towards him, “it’s time to resume our eternal battle.”

Drunk, Logan stares. The cloud of steam clears to reveal an expanse of marred skin interrupted only by the bright red kevlar of the Deadpool mask. A long beat passes wherein Logan stares directly at Wade’s bare cock dangling goofily between his legs before he jerks his head to the side.

“God damn, man, put some clothes on!” Logan turns, back to Wade. “And what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before, lover.” The only warning Logan gets before a hot, wet body is pressed against his back is the damp slap of wet feet on linoleum. By reflex, he turns and shoves three ragged claws directly into Wade’s stomach. “Oh, should’ve expected that. Gonna take a second to get over that one.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Logan stares down at him, spread-eagled in the kitchenette with thin streams of blood puddling on the floor. “You are wet and naked. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Well,” Wade responds. Completely shameless, he doesn’t even make an attempt to cover himself. Logan grinds his teeth and turns his back once again. “Considering that you just stabbed me. No! And besides, I have a job for you. Since you’re obviously done with your last one.”

Logan tips back the bottle of whiskey into his mouth. A few drops escape from the corner of his lips, which he doesn’t bother to wipe away. “What?”

“It’s something silly. A B-plot. Hijinks, if you will. The type suitable for some sort of one-shot. Maybe a two-shot if we get frisky.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Logan stares out the window above the sink. The foggy, smudged surface prevents him from seeing much other than the glaring approach of oncoming cars down the highway.

“I’m talking about an adventure! Work for the good of the universe! The two amigos at it again to save the world — or at least a very specific suburb of Milwaukee — “

“Yeah, I don’t actually do that anymore.” He takes another swig. Bottle’s halfway empty.

“Okay. Well, if I am being honest, I did accept a payment for this one. About a milli, but if you play nice, I would be willing to split it between the two of us.”

Another drink. A car roars down the highway, lights blazing. A fly buzzes above, imprisoned against the glare of the LEDs.

“No.”

“Okay, fine.” Wade’s exasperated tone shatters the melancholy mood. Logan wishes he would give up and leave already. Wishful thinking, he supposes. Not even educated. “It was two milli.”

“No.”

Logan slides the whiskey back into the cabinet. Wade mutters something he doesn’t bother to listen to. Rather, Logan steps over Wade’s naked, wet, healing body, opens the fridge, and pulls out a mostly-intact six pack. With a sigh, he walks into the living room, collapses onto the couch, and turns of the TV.

“Fine!” Wade shouts from the floor of the kitchenette. “It was five milli, but if you’re actually going to take half of that, I expect a blowjob for my finder’s fee, mister!”

Logan doesn’t respond. Nothing good on at 3 AM. He should be asleep. No way he’s going to do so with Wade Wilson loose in his place. He’s too tired, drunk, and miserable to do anything meaningful about him right now. He pops open one of the beers. On screen, a lion eviscerates a zebra while the narrator drones calmly on.

Damp footfalls on carpet. Wade stands just inside of Logan’s line of sight. He isn’t bleeding any more. “Oh no, I’m bleeding all over your carpet! Whatever are you going to do!”

Logan ignores him. The lion is rooting through the zebra’s guts now.

“Come on, I know you can’t be that busy. You’ve been gone for four whole days.”

Logan’s brow furrows. His head snaps in Wade’s direction. “You’ve been in my house for four days.”

“This, Logan, is an apartment. And yeah, where do you think all those dirty dishes came from?” Wade gestures vaguely towards the kitchen. Logan hadn’t even noticed. “Also, you probably want to change your sheets. And don’t look in your second dresser drawer, please, unless you’re like, way more into me than I think.”

“Okay.” Logan sets down his beer, looking Wade dead in the eye. Very intentionally, he does not glance down to where Wade’s cock is still flopping pathetically about between his legs. “I’m being serious. I need you to get out now.”

“Ooh, it’s serious time, alright.” He bends his knees, turns to the side, and arches his back so his ass sticks out. “And what happens if I don’t?”

Logan stands up. He can’t fucking deal with this right now. He grabs his coat, stumbling over to the door. He squints against a blast of cold air.

“Come on, Logan.” Wade attempts to dramatically slam the door shut. Logan rips it right back open and steps outside. “I can’t be so repugnant you don’t want to work with me even just a tiny little bit — “

“No, you are,” Logan says, just before slamming the door in Wade’s face.

There are a few blessed moments of silence as Logan walks up the half-set of stairs leading to the parking lot. His shoulders tense when he hears his door creak open again.

“Even though I’m offering you two and a half million? This place is dingy as fuck, the X-men cannot be paying you that much.”

The door slams closed behind Wade. Logan keeps his gaze fixed ahead. He doesn’t speak until he senses Wade right behind him. “Pretty sure the X-Men don’t get paid, bub.”

“What the fuck, good ol’ Chuck — who is definitely alive by the way, don’t you even worry your sweet little heads about it — doesn’t even pay you.” Logan keeps walking forward, desperately hoping that the crunch of gravel beneath his boots will eventually drown Wade out. “That’s inhumane. Even the Avengers get paid. What the hell else is he doing with that seemingly infinite pool of money? Also, what do you mean you’re pretty sure? You are working with the X-Men, aren’t you.”

Logan takes a deep breath. Without a word, he continues walking forward.

Wade gasps. They cross into the street now, beginning to walk down the empty road. Logan’s car isn’t even here. He'd left it at the bar.

“Oh my god, you’re not. What the hell have you been doing for the last year then, man?”

“Didn’t I very specifically say that we would not be seeing each other around?”

“Yes, but then you waddled that cute little ass directly into my apartment, and held my dog, and made friends with my friends and your not-daughter, all strongly implying to the audience that we were going to live happily ever after in homoerotic bliss!” 

The sound of skin smacking against skin echoes from behind Logan. Perhaps Wade smacking himself in the face. “I thought you were the reason they rejected me again, good ‘ol Logan wants nothing to do with Wade anymore for completely inscrutable reasons, but — “

Logan’s brow furrows. “They rejected you — ?”

The sentence dies a swift death to a cocktail of rage and embarrassment as he turns and realizes that Wade is still buck naked.

“ — sunuvabitch, put some damn clothes on!”

The emotionless white pits of the Deadpool mask stare back at Logan. “I will if you come back to your sad wolf boy apartment with me.”

Logan scowls. “No.”

Wade crosses his arms and waggles his hips. “I’m the one wearing the mask here. I have nothing to lose. You live here. And you have neighbors you care about. Apparently.” 

Logan turns his head, gritting his teeth against the feeling of complete mortification. With a grunt, he clips Wade’s shoulder as he passes him on the way back to his apartment.

“There’s my peanut, always happy to see me!”

Logan throws his jacket onto the floor as soon as he re-enters his apartment. Wilson is such a fucking nut-case.

— 

“Are you sure you don’t want to get down nasty style? If it’s just about the carpet, we can lay down a tarp or something. Or we can do it in the bathroom. Always keeps the ugly bumping tidy no matter the bodily fluids involved — I highly recommend it.”

Exhausted, Logan blinks very slowly as he stares at the TV. He sucks down another half a beer before responding. “Don’t you have a girl?”

“If by a girl,” Wade calls out from the bedroom, “you mean my fabulous new therapist Lisa, then yes. She is so dumb. Knows nothing about the horrific depths of the human spirit. Never been tortured, Logan, can you believe that? Not even once. She’s incredible. She has me using this new morality app — “

Logan shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean a girlfriend, wife situation.”

“Not anymore!”

Wade arrives in Logan’s field of vision wearing a pair of jeans which come to an abrupt end at his mid-shin. A white t-shirt is tucked into Wade’s belt, dangling pouches failing to disguise how comically large the waistband is on him. Strips of discolored skin are visible on his arms and legs. He’s still wearing the mask. He makes jazz hands.

“You look stupid.”

“You, too!” Wade points an accusatory finger at Logan. “Oh, who am I kidding? You pull it off. Why was I cursed with this glorious, mutilated twink body?”

With a huff, Wade collapses onto the couch. He places a hand on Logan’s thigh, which Logan quickly removes.

“Sorry about your girl.” Wade’s hand continues to sit placidly on the couch. Logan takes another swig of his beer.

“It’s fine.”

On screen, a family of gerbils scurry out of their burrow in the middle of a flood. The narrator dully reports that, in these conditions, the little beasts make easy prey for opportunistic predators.

“Actually, it’s not fine. You know, the really fucked-up thing is that — according to her, at least — it wasn’t the loser-era stuff, or the putting her in constant danger, or the severe mental health problems. Sometimes, things just don’t work out.” Wade turns away from Logan and stares into the middle distance. “And that, dear, readers, is a weak plotline, but it’s also real life. We all know you just want to see his one-eyed snake disappear into my wet cave and you’ll take any excuse you can get. Fuck!”

Wade throws his head onto the back of the couch.

“It may also just have been the severe mental health problems,” he admits. “She was really nice. Probably wouldn’t have said that if it were true.”

Logan drink again. One of the gerbils gets snapped up by a hawk in slow motion. “She would have,” he says. “She would’ve just said it nice.”

Wade sighs. “Yeah.”

Wordlessly, Logan hands him a beer.

“You know, I’m not supposed to drink on my medication. But this is probably enough of a special occasion.” Logan’s not sure whether it’s a joke. He’d never known Wade — any iteration — to be particularly stable. In fairness, Logan has never been either.

When Wade takes the bottle, Logan pops the top off with one partially extended claw. Wade scoffs and takes a sad, quiet drink. Out of juice. Silence encroaches.

“So,” Logan starts. “You’re back on your merc shit, huh?”

“Kinda.” Wade slouches into the crevices of the couch. For a moment, he looks pathetically small. “I’m trying to incorporate my burgeoning moral compass into my work now. Man’s gotta eat.”

“Five million dollars ain’t grocery money.”

When Wade sits up, it’s like a switch flips on in his brain. “In this economy? You’d be lucky to get a loaf of bread for 50K!”

Logan ignores him. He finishes off his beer, then sets the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“So does this mean you’re gonna help me? Or fuck me? I was hoping for both but at this point I’d take either.” He leans closer, staring out at Logan from behind his mask.

Logan sighs. “I said I’m not doing that shit.”

“Logan.” Wade’s voice is deadly serious. “My bowels are clear. But if you’re really that worried about it, I can give myself an enema first.”

Logan reaches over and takes the beer back. Wade doesn’t flinch.

“Hey, come on. You literally save the multiverse, heroically switch timelines, sidestep the life-ruining consequences of your actions. You get to live in a world where you’re a hero, and not one where all of your friends are dead. That is literally once-in-thousands-of-lifetimes kind of luck. And you’re gonna use that ridiculous stroke of luck to sit on the couch all day?”

Shouldn’t be surprising. Logan was already familiar with Wade’s personal definition of heroism. With jaw tight, Logan keeps his gaze fixed forward. His grip tightens around Wade’s beer. Fingers twitching, he downs a third of it.

“I’m honestly shocked the TVA didn’t make you go home off-screen, just for continuity’s sake. I guess they want you to be in more — “

“In case you didn’t catch that,” Logan says, glaring at Wade out of the corner of his eye, “that was an invitation to leave.”

“But you did give me the beer. Invitation extended. And I bet if I ignore your grumpy mug and stay a little bit longer, I can get you to do it again!”

Logan doesn’t respond. He’s lost track of how much he’s had to drink. The whiskey from before is just now starting to hit him, thoughts growing sluggish, warmth crawling through his limbs. He downs the rest of Wade’s beer and cracks open another.

“For real, man.” Wade leans closer, squinting. “Why are you not chilling with the X-Men. They’re all alive here. Or, like, mostly. Probably.” His head turns, glancing around the room chaotically. “Those timelines were always really hard to follow. And our whole thing just didn’t make any sense at all, so it’s probably way easier to just show up and find out who’s alive, but like, it’s definitely most of them. I saw Kurt last week. Blue. Tail. All that fun stuff. You two are supposed to be buds.”

A black hole opens up in the pit of Logan’s stomach.

“You like reality TV, right? That seems like your kind of trash.” Logan flips through the channels. The warmth that radiates off of Wade as he leans in closer is probably Logan’s imagination.

“Logan.” Wade whispers. “Answer the question.”

Teeth grit, Logan hisses, “Or else what?”

“Or else.” Logan rolls his eyes when he feels the cool barrel of a gun press against his temple. He continues flipping through the channels. “We will have to continue our eternal — oh, Love Island, I love this shit.” Logan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You know, the US version is so bland in comparison to the UK one — wait a second, you’re trying to distract me!”

With a sigh, Logan leans his head back on the couch. His thoughts are becoming delightfully fuzzy, now. He plays the game. “You ever get that ADHD testing done?”

Wade narrows his eyes. “No.”

If Wade had come here to commiserate — to play games — Logan can be fine with that. A few hours ago he’d lifted his cheek off of the bar with red in his mind’s eye. Her hair, her fire, her blood. The last few months had been lonely.

An unnatural silence fills the room when Logan closes his eyes. Wade moves, silent and fast. Thighs bracketing Logan’s, erratically-textured palms cradling his cheeks. Chest tight like he’d been strangled. Logan’s knuckles are pressed to Wade’s ribs, all reflex.

“Get off me.” The vision of his blades slicing through Wade’s soft stomach is clear in his mind’s eye.

“Logan.” Wade’s fingers on his cheek are patronizing. “My bro. My good boy. My homie. My personal hero. That would ruin your couch.”

Wade’s body going slack in Logan’s arms. Manic twinkles of laughter in his ear. Spilled blood sucked up by denim and upholstery. Logan grits his teeth. Silence ticks on.

“Which you care about, because you’re broke, because you’re not fucking around with Chuck — who definitely pays people, by the way.” Wade’s voice is loud and annoying. “So come help me, Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.”

The sharp snikt of Logan’s claws slicing through his own skin occurs not half a second after Wade rolls off of him.

“For the last fucking time,” Logan growls. He can feel his own throat rumble, his self-control slipping as the alcohol suffuses his cells. “No.”

Wade crouches in the middle of Logan’s living room, ready to pounce. The upturned corners of his lips are visible even beneath the mask. “It’s not even a hit job. More of a rescue, really. And it’s delightfully silly. And afterwards we can do a little horizontal — “

Logan scowls. “Stop.”

His muscles are heavy, drawing him further back into the couch. He shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Wilson is a clown, but he’s not incompetent. Logan’s heart races against an impending sense of danger.

All at once, Wade collapses onto his ass. He pulls out his phone, gaze fixed on the screen. Logan couldn’t relax if he wanted to.

“Okay, I hear that you’re setting a boundary. Lisa’s been telling me a lot about those. So I’m willing to stop talking about sex. If you come with me.”

“And yet you apparently didn’t hear me when I told you to leave.”

Logan leans forward. Moonlight stretches down the length of his claws in reflection.

“Come on, Logan, we all know you weren’t being serious then.” Wade flaps his wrist dismissively. He’d probably still be cracking jokes if Logan were to snap it. “Which is definitely how it works. And you can’t say otherwise because you don’t even go to therapy.”

Logan says nothing. Wade stares at him, as if waiting for a response.

“If you did, your therapist would definitely tell you that you should come with me. And also that you should probably go hit up your good ol’ bubs the — “

“No.”

Logan stands. His patience is running out. He’s wobbly, unsteady. Wade’s fast. A bloodthirsty cacophony clamors in the back of his mind. Two kicks would leave Wade’s brains splattered across a broken television screen, a left hook could snap his neck on the edge of the coffee table, triplet blades rending flesh from his heart down to his gut leaving him flopping like a fish out of water on the carpet — 

“Fine.” Wade sighs. He stares down at his phone. Logan itches for violence. “I didn’t want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice.”

The sound of dice rolling fills the apartment. Wade gasps, turning his phone screen to display a mischievous-looking emoji with an angel halo. A beat passes with Logan’s head tilted in utter confusion.

“Chaotic heroic. I love this one. Always so weird.”

Swiftly, he pops open the velcro of one of his pouches. Logan’s eyes go wide as he pulls out a grenade.

“Wade,” Logan says. His voice is tense, pulse thundering in his ears. Wade’s attitude had felt strange — stranger — but he hadn’t anticipated this. “Put that down. This is an apartment building. There are innocent people here.”

With a giggle, Wade stands. He loops one finger through the pull ring, swinging it casually around his finger. “Oh, I know.”

Logan lunges at him. Wade sidesteps easily, laughing as Logan sprawls inelegantly across the floor. His limbs are heavy, the air baring down on him as he pushes himself up.

“I don’t know what kinda psycho fuckin’ meltdown you’re having because your girl dumped you, Wilson, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you — “

A hand held over his heart. “Wow. Last-named. The hurt. How would you feel if I called you — wait, what is your last name?”

“I’m not gonna let you kill a bunch of people for no goddamn reason.”

A swipe, dodged. Wade’s pressed flat against his front door. Logan throws his fist, embedding his claws in the wood instead of Wade’s skull. He screams as he yanks them out.

“Wow, Logan. It’s only been six months and you’ve gotten so slow! Or is it the alcohol?”

One last shot. Logan goes for his gut, but Wade’s too fast. He’s across the room before Logan’s halfway through the swing.

There’s no fanfare when he decided to stop playing games.

“Relax,” he calls from across the room. Logan watches in horror as he pulls the pin, tossing the grenade live across the living room. “This’ll only take a second.”

***

“Wakey-wakey, peanut.”

A finger taps his nose. Logan’s head throbs. His eyelids scrape like sandpaper. The sun is rising at the end of a long, thin stretch of highway.

Logan surges, movement stopped by the seatbelt.

Wade clicks his tongue in the driver’s seat. “I told you I didn’t wanna do this, Logan.”

“Sunuvabitch,” Logan mutters. His hands are bolted behind his back, ankles tied together. A thick chain secures the thick cuffs above his knees to a metal rod beneath the seat. “What the fuck — “

“Now, Logan.” Wade’s voice is chastizing, like he’s talking to a child. Logan seethes. “Before you extend those pretty little claws of yours — “

The upholstery of the passenger’s seat tears. Logan struggles only to find he doesn’t have enough leverage to slice through the metal holding the seat together. The seatbelt stretching across his chest locks his back flat against the back of the seat.

“That was literally what I just — “ Wade groans, smacking himself in he forehead. “This is why I can’t have nice things. You know I got this car from Spiderman, tricked the whole thing out, gave it a roof, and you just come in here with your little honey badger shit and just — “

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Logan screams.

“Calm down,” Wade says. “You’d think a little nap would make you less cranky. And before you ask, everyone is fine. It was just a little gas. I can’t believe you thought I would actually blow up an apartment building for fun.”

“I,” Logan rasps, “am going to fucking kill you.”

“Easier said than done,” Wade chirps. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Also, I’m driving this car on an incredibly busy highway so anything you do to me is likely to result in some random bystanders dying in a fiery car crash.”

Logan turns to look out the window. In the span of a few seconds, Wade blasts pasts one, two, three other cars on the right. 

“How fucking fast are you — “

“Uh…” The car twists into the right lane, then back into the left. “110. Thereabouts.”

Logan grits his teeth. He doesn’t know what else he expected.

“You know I’m just going to kill you whenever I have the chance.”

“And in the meantime, we have the opportunity to get in some quality time together while I convince you that — “

“Kidnapping me is not starting off on a good foot.”

“We weren’t on a good foot in the first place, Logan. And you know whose fault that was?” Logan curses under his breath as the right side wheels of the car lift from the pavement as Wade rounds a curve in the highway. “You. And you know, it didn’t have to be this way. We had a good thing going for awhile, me and you. And you had that wholesome daddy-daughter dynamic going on with X-whatever — “

“Her name is Laura.”

“ — not to say that we don’t also have a daddy-daughter dynamic of a different flavor going on.”

“You’re a disgusting son of a bitch, you know that?” Anger coils in the pit of Logan’s stomach as Wade dodges around another car. The violent honking fades out quickly.

“Very aware, thank you! But you just had to do the same shit you always do — “

“You don’t know shit about me, bub.”

“ — and leave. And being me, I was going to go look for you, but Vanessa, she’s all he has his reasons and he has to go on his own journey to figure out who he is and you need to leave people alone if they want to be left alone — “

“So your girl dumped you again and that’s my problem, somehow?”

“Something like that!” He’s wearing his suit again, leather-gloved fingers strangling the steering wheel. “So the job is outside of Milwaukee, not too far from here actually, really low-level stuff but I tried to take ‘em out last week and it was somewhat of a comical failure.”

The car jerks from side to side as Wade weaves through traffic. The back of Logan’s head throbs with a hangover — from the bottle of whiskey or from whatever Wade had dosed him with, he’s not sure. He holds in a growl and resists the urge to scream. The desire to completely lose control bubbles up in the pit of his stomach. He struggles to come up with a good justification not to.

“And I know what you’re thinking, Logan - wow, can’t believe this guy is skipping right over the emotional trauma of losing his girlfriend for the third or fourth time, depending on how you count it, and he’s totally emotionally dodging all of the important feelings that he’s feeling right now.” 

Logan closes his eyes, breathing in and out through his nose. Wade Wilson is a fucking shitstain of a human being. This isn’t new information to him.

“And you would be totally right — “ The image of Wade in blue, scrambling from rooftop to rooftop flashes across Logan’s mind. Bells jingling, laughter echoing, blood dripping from the sack thrown over his shoulder as he lobs a severed arm directly at Logan’s face. The car lurches as he skids around a little white sedan on the right, barely managing to avoid scraping the barrier on the right that stands between the car and the ditch below. “But that’s not even the point right now, because we have to break into a top-secret bse to stage a rescue mission for our comrade-in-arms — “

“Pull over.”

Logan’s head is pounding. Wade finally shuts up. The stench of his sweat is tangy in Logan’s nostrils.

“What?”

“Pull the fucking car over and untie me. I’ll help you.”

The seatbelt cuts into Logan’s chest when Wade slams on the breaks.

It’s a little scenic overlook. A car races past them, honking. Wade turns to stare at him for an unsettlingly silent moment.

“Damn, okay.”

The door slams behind him. He swings his hips exaggeratedly as he rounds the hood. Logan is overcome with the urge to rip out his throat. 

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Wade starts as he opens the passenger-side door, “but why, exactly, would you agree to help me?”

Logan clenches his jaw. Wade unties his ankles first, then unlocks the cuffs around his thighs before he glances up expectantly. Logan tries to mask the seething violence raging just underneath his skin. Given the way that Wade winks flirtatiously at him, he suspects that he’s failed.

“I’m already here, aren’t I?” Logan speaks through gritted teeth.

Wade shrugs. He unbuckles Logan’s seatbelt. “Fair enou—”

Logan’s shoulder smacks into Wade’s nose with as much force as he can muster. Wade’s body sprawls back. His head thunks loudly against first the metal barrier, then the asphalt. The tip of Logan’s boot seeks out Wade’s windpipe and bears down just hard enough to cut off his air. Wade’s eyelids flutter.

“Oh, how I hate to lose,” Wade mutters. Logan crouches to pick up the key from the ground, quickly unlocking his own wrists. “But how I love to lose.”

“Don’t make any goddamn sense, bub.” He rolls Wade over with the toe of his boot, forehead scraping against the barrier once again. Wade is dazed, groaning. Logan scoffs when he feels Wade lift his own arms for Logan to lock them behind his back.

Logan doesn’t have time for this. Or at least not the damn energy. He fully intends to get back in the driver’s seat, book it back to his dingy little apartment just long enough to grab the few important items he has. Losing the damn car should really be the least of Wade’s problems.

But when Logan stares down at him, face-down in the gravel, moaning just a little too loudly as he writhes around on the ground — he feels bad. There have been more times than Logan can count that he’s looked far more pathetic than Wade has right now. Tried to pull himself up by his bootstraps every time, completely failed more often than not.

Logan sighs. He flips Wade back over, hauls him up by the nape of his suit, and tosses him into the passenger’s seat.

He’s about to slam the door shut when he thinks to unbuckle Wade’s belt. He tosses it — pouches, holsters, guns and all — into the back seat.

“Wow, daddy,” Wade mutters. “I didn’t know you were into bondage.”

Logan scowls at him. “Don’t make me regret not leavin’ you on the side of the road, Wilson.”

“Daddy, if you wanted to play rough, all you had to do was — “

Logan slams the door in his face.

“Ask.” Wade finishes his sentence as soon as Logan re-enters on the driver’s side.

“Tired of watchin’ you drive like a fuckin’ maniac.” Logan pulls the seat up, then adjusts the mirrors. Wade keeps his mouth shut about the difference in height — smart. “Gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Fair, but you didn’t need to tie me up. We should at least pull up Google Maps so we know where we’re going — “ 

Logan pulls back onto the highway as soon as he sees a break in traffic, then turns to shoot Wade an incredulous look.

“I’m no goin’ to help you. I’m goin’ home.” He pulls into a parking lot on the left and hangs a right. The dashboard flashes 6:33 AM at him. The bags under his eyes tug at his eyelids. He wishes he was drunk.

“Wow,” Wade says. “I cannot believe the X-Man, Wolverine, is a liar.”

“I can’t believe that known asshole, Deadpool, would kidnap a guy — oh, wait. I can believe that.”

Wade ignores him. “I come all the way out to bumfuck nowhere to magnanimously kidnap you to get you out of your sad wolf boy depressive slump, just as you once did for me — well, I also kidnapped you then, didn’t I?” Logan rubs at his face, trying to tune Wade out. He accelerates up to the speed limit. “And that totally got me out of a depressive slump. Ultimate message: kidnapping works.”

For a beat, Wade pauses as if waiting for a response. Logan ignores him.

“And at the end of the day, after everything I’ve done for you, you repay me by going directly back to where you came from?”

“Yes.”

Wade leans forward. Probably trying to break out of those handcuffs — ain’t subtle. Logan hadn’t bothered to actually restrain him in any meaningful way. As annoying and insistent as Wade is, Logan can’t imagine he has much steam left for this ridiculous charade. 

“You won’t even come with me to help me on an actually magnanimous quest?”

“No.”

The silence stretches out. Wade sighs.

“Come on, man. You gotta be real with me for a second. What gives? We had a good thing going for a couple of months. Little team-up here, over at my place for dinner every once in a while, making friends with my friends. And I know the drinking was getting pretty bad — which like, if I’m saying that, you know that’s real because I have literally a full pound of cocaine stashed away in my apartment — “

He doesn’t. Logan would’ve been able to smell it.

“And you had this whole ridiculous self-hating thing about how you’re not allowed to just cheat and be an X-man in this universe. But things were good. I thought that we were building something good together. And we were going to get past it.”

Logan feels the steering wheel creak under the force of his grip.

“Oh, buddy. There it is. Come on, hit me, baby. Let is all out.”

“You wanna know why I left, Wade?” Logan snaps.

“Yes. Very clearly. That’s why I asked.”

“Because wrecking your entire world, resulting in the deaths of thousands of people, is not the kind of shit you get to just brush off and pretend didn’t happen so you can go play house with alternate versions of the people that you got fucking killed.”

He’s panting. For a moment, Logan’s eyes go unfocused. Particles of his own spit have splattered across the windshield.

“Oh, boo-hoo. So Wolvie has to punish himself for being the big evil bad guy, as if saving literally every life in the multiverse didn’t absolve him.” 

There’s a note of cruelty in his tone that makes Logan want to throw him out the window.

“Doing something good doesn’t make the bad shit you’ve done in the past okay.”

“Mm, pretty sure it does, actually.” 

There’s sarcasm dripping from Wade’s tone. Mean, self-absorbed. Logan aches for Kurt — would’ve told him that sin is in the nature of being human, that he’d already more than proven himself worthy of his continued existence, then make a joke that was actually funny.

Unfortunately, that version of Kurt is long dead.

“You see all these cars around us?” Wade gestures at the vehicles zipping by. “I’m the reason they’re all alive. They all owe me. Which means it doesn’t matter if I kill that guy, or those people, or that old lady, or — “

“You’re worse than the last time I saw you.”

There was a spark in that little rant that reminds logan of Wade — the other one. He had still been alive when this Wade had kidnapped him, at least as far as Logan is aware. Guys like the two of them are hard to kill. The way Logan had heard it, he’d gotten cut to pieces a few months after shit started to really hit the fan. Took him five or six years to come back. Logan had always figured it was the pain that had sent him off the deep end. Now Logan wonders if it was the realization of just how alone he was.

“Yeah,” Wade agrees. “I wonder if that has something to do with the fact that my people keep leaving me.”

Logan breathes in. He waits for Wade to continue, for sarcastic comments. Nothing comes.

“You know this doesn’t have anything to do with you, right?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s not you, it’s me. Oldest trick in the book.”

Logan can’t hide his incredulous reaction. “We’re not dating. You know that, right?”

Wade squints. “Tell that to the Honda Odyssey. And Madonna. And my asshole.”

It occurs to Logan that crashing the car might not be an entirely undesirable experience.

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Had. Past-tense. She left, too.”

“You know you’re just gonna get right back together after you’ve gotten over whatever kind of breakdown this is, right? And your gal’s a pretty straight shooter. Just figure out whatever it is that she wants you to figure out — “

“Not this time. All-in-all, pretty good confirmation that I am actually worth dogshit despite my magnanimous multiverse-saving tendencies. And I’m not having a breakdown.”

Logan wonders if this is what it’s like talking to him.

“You understand that these two situations we’re talking about have literally nothing in common.” Wade kicks his feet. It feels like talking to a child.

“I don’t know, feels just about a gut-stabby from my perspective.”

“We are not dating. We’re — “ Logan hesitates over the word friend. “We don’t have a thing.”

“Oh, how the mind loves to rewrite history. We definitely have a thing, peanut. Or at least we did.”

Logan scoffs. At the end of his rope, he snaps, “You are such a fuckin’ narcissist.”

“Acknowledging that we had a good thing going which was then ruined by you leaving has nothing to do with my narcissism.” He thinks he’s so fuckin’ funny.

“No, thinking that me leaving is some reflection on you is narcissistic.”

Wade leans in over the center console, eyes narrowed. “‘Bout to throw you a curveball, peanut: thinking that I wouldn’t see you leaving as a reflection on my own self-worth is narcissistic. We are just the same, you and I. Two bloodthirsty little peas in a pod — “

Logan pushes Wade away, palm spanning most of the area of his face. “You think this is how you’re going to get me to help you out? Being an annoying fuckin’ asshole?”

“No.” Logan can hear the smirk in his voice. “I think that being an annoying asshole is how I’m going to get you to fuck me. Hold on.”

To Logan’s complete and utter exhaustion, Wade takes his hands out from behind his back. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, pulling up that stupid fucking app again. He glances up at Logan, muttering, “Pretend you’re not seeing this, it made me pop a l’il half-chub when you tied me up. That shit was hot.”

The words, you know there’s a reason people keep leaving you, right? sit heavy on Logan’s tongue. He wants to punch Wade in the side of the head, drag him out of the car, slice and hack and cut until he finally shuts the fuck up. Shame immediately follows the thought. A hundred sets of lips curl around the word bloodthirsty in his mind’s eye.

Wade taps away at his phone, swearing. Logan watches him re-roll multiple times. He had really tried to tear Wade down in the Honda whatever. Wade had pissed him off, and Logan wanted to tear him down. Force him to end whatever stupid little delusion he had in his head about saving the world. 

Wade hadn’t klet him. A fucked-up kind of stubborn that Logan can’t help but admire when he thinks about it. Logan wishes he had that same level of dedication.

“Okay, fuck yes. True neutral. Nice.”

Logan sighs. Can’t believe he’s developing a soft spot for Wade Wilson, of all people.

That soft spot melts away as soon as Wade sprawls across the front seat to set his head in Logan’s lap.

His leg jerks. Wade’s head bounces but remains firmly on Logan’s thigh. “What the fuck are you doin’, you want us to get in an accident?”

“No, I rolled true neutral. So obviously, I’m introducing you to the idea that I could give you road head. But I’m not pushing you strongly either way.”

Logan grits his teeth.

With barely-contained force, he shoves Wade’s head off of his lap and pulls the car off to the side of the road. Pines as far as the eye can see. He pulls the keys out of the ignition. 

“Get outta the car.”

Wade pouts. “But daddy, I can’t. You tied me up.”

Logan watches as he tries to slide the handcuffs back onto himself. He grabs Wade by the front of his costume and spits in his face.

“You,” Logan hisses, “are bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous. Over here actin’ like this is a fuckin’ porno every chance you get cause you think that’s gonna make you feel better about your girl fuckin’ leaving. I am not your personal fuckin’ attention fountain, or your daddy, or whatever the fuck you think this is. Get out of the car.”

He throws Wade into the passenger’s side door.

Logan shoves the keys into his pockets as he walks away. He doesn’t look back. A few moments later, he hears the crunch of Wade’s boots against the pine needles. Without a word, he follows Logan.

“Oh,” Wade pipes up after they’ve walked a few hundred feet in silence. “This is like a game. We’re going to roleplay Twilight: New Moon? You know, in this universe there’s this weird tangential link between 9/11 and — “

“Shut up.”

Wade does. Logan takes a deep breath before he turns around.

There had been a lot of people in Logan’s life that he’d wanted to help only to completely and utterly fail. He remembers how proud he’d felt when he’d first heard Wade mention his ten people, that’s it. Logan had mattered. He had changed something for the better.

Wade stands in front of him, this ball of self-destruction, compulsively pushing and pulling the people around him with his stupid jokes, and Logan can’t help but feel as if he’s failed yet again.

“If I need to beat the fucking horny out of you before you can have a conversation like an adult, fine.”

Wade tilts his head. “Who’s saying I won’t beat the horny out of you first?”

“I’m not fuckin’ horny, Wade.”

The tension escalates. Logan swallows.

“That half-chub I sniffed earlier begs to differ.” Logan says nothing, jaw clenched. “How about this: winner gets to do whatever the fuck they want to the loser.”

Logan snorts. “Okay, bub.”

Wade taps his finger on his chin. He arches his back, teasing. “Just no teeth when I shove my cock in your mouth, okay? That’s no way to win a fight.”

He wags a chastising finger at Logan. It looks ridiculous. Logan desperately wishes he wasn’t into it. 

“Don’t feel like that really even needed to be said.” Logan’s eyes flicker down to Wade’s belt. No idea when he had retrieved it from the back seat. “No guns.”

Wade throws his hands up dramatically. “What the fuck, come on!”

“This ain’t bumfuck nowhere. Unless you want the fuckin’ cops called, no guns.” Logan smirks. “As if they’re gonna do you any goddamn good.”

“Fine.” Wade squints. He pulls each gun out of its holster, releases the magazines onto the ground with a dull little thud, and tosses them off to the side. “No guns.”

Logan’s claws extend with a satisfying snikt.

“And my mask doesn’t come off.”

Quietly, Logan scoffs. “Whatever.”

[notoverjoyed]

It's a two chapter special! Since the archive was down when I wanted to post yesterday I have more to share today. No warnings until the last chapter, so enjoy! Chapters 2 and 3 below the cut for those who prefer tumblr.

Chapter 2: Hunger

Vlad is anything but refreshed, even after going to bed early the night before. Without any appointments this morning, he might have even slept in if he hadn’t woken up feeling starved.

He rolled out of bed and stood up, then almost fell down to the floor as his head swam with hunger. Grabbing his headboard to steady himself and wait for his vision to settle, he thought back to the previous evening. He hadn’t drunk anything more than water, not that alcohol would affect his half ghost body, so why then, is he so weak upon waking. Mere hunger couldn’t do this, could it?

“I wonder,” he murmurs.

Vlad slowly gets dressed in more casual clothes than he typically would, not feeling up to even pants that need buttoning. Once he’s decent, he wanders unsteadily down to his basement lab. He has a hypothesis to test.

Normally he would phase into the lab, but he installed a cleverly hidden human entrance on the off chance he didn’t have access to his powers. He chooses this latter entrance today, as his powers seem just a bit less present than usual. If his hypothesis is correct, that issue should soon be remedied.

The human entrance to his lab is rather dusty, having not seen much traffic since Ms. Valerie gray had left his employ in rather dramatic fashion. Vlad notes absently that he should take the time to clean it more often. That's not his primary concern, however. What he’s really focused on is reaching the stores of pure ectoplasm he has squirreled away for research purposes.

Reaching the lab, he winces as the motion activated light turns on when he walks through the door, seeming much brighter than usual. Squinting against the stinging pain, he strides as quickly as he can to the shining steel cabinet where the ectoplasm is stored and entering a code on the attached key pad. His hands are shaky, and the pad flashes red. Vlad scowls, muttering curses under his breath.

Vlad breathes slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth, and puts his other hand on the cabinet to steady himself. He tries again, the pad flashes green, and the cabinet door pops open with a soft release of air.

He opens the cabinet wide to expose the clear glass tubes glowing a pure bright green. Each was identical to the one next to it, so he picked one up at random and considered it. He’d run all sorts of experiments using ectoplasm, but had never considered ingesting it before. What would it taste like, he wondered.

Vlad unscrews the cap to the tube of ectoplasm and sniffs deeply, then his stomach clenches in response. He stops himself before chugging it though. He isn’t so uncouth as to forgo a glass just because he’s absolutely starving for the green liquid. Finding a glass from a drinks cupboard he has hidden away for long nights in the lab, he pours about half the tube into the glass. He takes one sip, then a gulp, then drains the glass in one long drink.

Immediately he feels restored. He breathes deeply, then exhales in satisfaction. He pours the rest of the tube into the glass and downs it for good measure then transforms and flies out of the lab to go about his day, happy to have solved this little issue so easily.

The lights in his lab shut off after a few minutes. In the dark space, the cabinet door remains cracked open for green light to seep out eerily. It shines across the lab to illuminate the closed eyes of the clones he’d grown anew after Daniel and Danielle destroyed their predecessors all those months ago.

Over the next day or so, Vlad finds that a drink of ectoplasm every few hours seems to restore his energy and stop his weight loss, but doesn't seem to be helping him recover what weight he’s already lost. Moreover, it takes only a few days for the effect to diminish with each dose, and the length of any effectiveness decreasing at the same rate.

“Blast it all!” he curses breathlessly as he wakes once more feeling lightheaded and weak. Just as he had a few days before, he dresses quickly and stumbles down to his lab in human form. There must be something missing from the pure ectoplasm that his body requires to sustain him.

He spends endless hours in the lab testing the reaction of ectoplasm with various chemicals and processes, and studies each concoction as carefully as he’s able with trembling hands. Time after time, he returns to the cabinet storing his supply of ectoplasm. If the search for a cure to his hunger doesn’t bear fruit soon, he will run out of both ectoplasm and the time needed to acquire more.

. . .

Vlad scowls down at the beaker of bubbling ectoplasm in front of him. He is downright ravenous. His hunger has taken over his every waking moment, but nothing seems to satisfy him. The ectoplasm worked. But not well enough. No matter what recipe he concocts, the hunger remains

He hisses and bends slightly at the waist as his stomach cramps. A bubble of fluid jumps from the beaker as he slams a fist on the table, sizzling inches from his hands. Vlad doesn’t notice. Whatever hope he’d had of finding a scientific solution grows dimmer with every moment.

Finally, the latest round of cramping passes, and he straightens slowly. He carefully makes his way to the closest lab stool and settles on it heavily.

“What is left to do?” he grinds out through clenched teeth. Vlad casts his eyes around the lab, hoping to see an additive he hadn’t yet tried, or a process he hadn’t yet put the ectoplasm through.

It’s clearly not just ectoplasm he craves, but all attempts to find the missing element have failed. His gaze passes over the cloning tubes, then stutters back. The pale body of the clones seems to stare back at him through closed eyelids. Accusing, and laughing, he imagines, much like young Daniel himself.

Vlad’s stomach lurches, and he yanks his gaze away.

Chapter 3: Denial

The heavy wooden doors to Vlad’s mansion creak open slowly, and a head of curly dark hair peeks inside. The head belongs to Valerie Gray, dressed in street clothes rather than her red huntress suit.

“Mayor Masters?” Valerie calls out cautiously. Her voice echoes in the silence of the foyer.

She’d tried calling, but there was no answer, and no return phone call. Even before she learned what he was, she’d never call him herself, much less visit the man unless invited, but he had been completely missing for days.

He hadn’t been seen at city hall, or any of the restaurants where he schmoozes with other rich people in town. With no word from Vlad himself, the local news had even been speculating. There were three separate attacks on downtown by what looked like baby Kaiju, yet she’d heard Lance Thunder mention “Missing Mayor Masters” at least twice on the morning weather report.

She hardly likes the man after the way he manipulated her, but she had to check, if only to make sure he wasn’t up to some plot.

It takes less than a minute for Valerie to be thoroughly spooked by the atmosphere of the mansion, so she activates her suit and walks carefully forward.

The eerie feeling haunting her makes it feel like whole hours are passing, but the heads up display in her suit shows only minutes have passed. She’s just passing past what she thinks is the kitchen when she hears a clatter.

She shivers as her adrenaline spikes, then settles into a careful focus. Ever so carefully, she nudges the door open to let a sliver of warm light through. She pushes it further to see fully inside, and sighs with relief.

“Fucking Masters” she mutters just low enough so that her helmet’s mic can’t pick up her words.

“Hey Mr. Masters, are you … alright?” Her voice trails as she gets a better look at him. This isn’t the confident and well dressed mayor the public sees, nor is it the more calculating scientist she knows from his lab. He’s sitting slumped in a chair and looks like, to put it gently, a mess.

“Who-,” Vlad starts to say, then his eyes snap towards her.

“Ms. Gray,” he says as he pushes one hand through his sweaty hair to move it out of his face. He straightens up with a badly concealed wince and a hand firmly planted on the back of the chair. “What a surprise to see you. I thought after our last encounter.”

Valerie scowls, reminded just how much she despises the man’s actions against Dani. Still, he looks sickly enough to temper her anger. Not knowing how to respond, she takes a moment to look around the room, and her confusion turns into outright worry.

Even without seeing Vlad’s kitchen before, she knows it would normally be nothing but spotless like the rest of his mansion, if not tastelessly decorated in Packer’s memorabilia. Instead, the sink is full of days old dirty dishes, and nearly every surface has some kind of food item strewn across it.

Some of it for a while it seems, as flies are hovering over an open package of lunch meat, and those bananas have ripened far past brown into a wilted black. Now intensely grateful that her helmet has filters, she speaks.

“You’ve been missing for days,” she says, scanning Vlad’s face for any sign of realization. He stares back at her with a strange, hungry look on his face.

On top of that hunger, Vlad pastes a weak smile. “Ah,” he says, “Well, you see, I’ve been ill.” A pause follows that statement, and Vlad continues. “I suppose my secretary hasn’t scheduled the appropriate announcements? I may have to let her go, what an absentminded woman she is.”

As he speaks, he leans more heavily on the chair, like his body is screaming at him to sit down, but he stays standing.

“Oookay,” Valerie says carefully. “But what could even make you sick-,” she starts to reply, but Vlad cuts her off.

“You should go,” he says in a single rushed breath, almost pained. His head bobs with another deep breath. “It might be contagious.”

“But-” she starts again.

“Go!” he says, his eyes flashing red. There’s desperation in his voice, she notes. She finds herself backing away slowly, never taking her eyes off the man. He doesn’t look away from her either, and suddenly she realized she can’t recall him even blinking through their whole conversation.

His gaze is still locked with her as the door swings closed between them. Valerie stares at the wood of the door for half a moment, then turns and walks toward the nearest exit she knows of. Her gait is quick, almost a jog, as if her body is trying to run away.

]

She lets her suit fall away as she bursts through the outside door into the sunlight. She doesn’t look back.

. . .

Back down in the lab, Vlad shudders and drops his gaze from where Valerie had been standing. The spike in hunger at seeing her in her armor… He couldn’t explain it. He hungers for ectoplasm yes, but Ms. Gray was hardly the strongest source of it in his lab, not with the remnants of his experiments scattered around.

Staring at the floor, he considers what he knows. Ectoplasm alone is no cure for his hunger. No ectoplasm based mixture, tincture, reaction, or anything has solved the problem either. The only difference between the ectoplasm in the lab and the ectoplasm in Valerie’s suit is that she’s wearing it…

No. That’s not right. The suit he gave her had been modified by Technus, and is now bonded more closely than any mere set of armor. Much like the ectoplasm a ghost is made of, the ectoplasm of her suit is bonded to her very will.

Before even finishing that thought, he staggers to the door leading to where he stores living specimens for experimentation. Surely he has an ectoplasm contaminated rabbit to test a theory on.

. . .

Some time later, he stumbles back into the main lab. He lets his hand drop from the door without closing it behind him, but does leave a bloody hand print on the door. He doesn’t seem to notice. His… experiment went rather more quickly than he intended. Maybe this is his solution; ectoplasm bonded to a willing being. He’s no butcher, but he can make do.

. . .

Less than an hour later he knows he will never be a butcher. His hunger rages more fiercely than ever. He can’t even bring himself to curse as he curls over the table top. He stares mindlessly ahead, eyes boring into the closed eyes of the clones still lying so peacefully in their pods.

[mysun-eyedgirl]

I have been working on this story for quite a while now. Faith Scott is a character I have been building and changing over the years. I hope you enjoy this. Special thanks to @rookieloveskashi for giving me the courage to finally post something.

Summary:

Faith Scott, a talented network engineer grappling with personal loss, discovers a mystical portal in her new home that transports her to the world of Naruto. There, with her White German Shepherd companion Panzer, she meets and saves Kakashi Hatake, forming a powerful bond as she trains to become a shinobi. Faith faces formidable adversaries. Her journey is marked by intense battles, personal growth, and unwavering determination to protect both her newfound home and her loved ones, all while navigating complex relationships and the overarching threats posed by powerful enemies.

Click to read on Ao3

Chapter 1

I just finished picking up the keys for my new house as the closing date finally arrived. I had signed and it was bittersweet. What should have been a joyous occasion will be etched into my brain as a somber one as I came directly from my father’s funeral, right before that was my eldest and only sister’s funeral and her one-year-old son, my nephew. My father’s car was struck by a drunk driver driving down the wrong way on the highway and they were passengers, and they were killed on impact. I have been told life goes on, which it does, I guess.

As I pulled into my new driveway in my red sedan, the movers behind me. I climbed up the three steps on the faded wood steps to the four-bedroom two-story single-family home with white aluminum siding paint needs redone of course. I opened the screen door and it fell off the top hinges and I look at it lay off-kilter, ‘Can anything just go right?’ I think to myself. I unlock the heavy wooden green door with paint chipping in various places and open it so the movers can bring my things in.

“Ma’am!” One of the movers calls out to me.

“Yes?” I sigh.

“We wanted to let you know in transport, that some of your things have been lost.” He winces no doubt used to being yelled at. “He continues, it looks like it is some clothing items, kitchen boxes, living room boxes. We were unable to locate so we have written you a check.” He hands me the check. I took it from him and walked away.

I guess the answer is no, nothing will go right. The universe wants me to suffer for some misdeed in my past life or something.

“Just put everything in the house please.” I say and go on about the walkthrough. The house is in the middle of nowhere Ohio, middle of nowhere was my preference, Ohio, not so much, I moved closer to my sister to help her with my nephew. She worked on a military base, and we were going to be living together, her husband left her for someone a little, younger and bigger chested. She wasn’t bothered by that. She loved her son so much nothing else mattered. I work from home as a Network Engineer, it doesn’t matter where I am as long as the internet connection is viable.

The wood floors are original oak, just need refinished and sealed. The paneling must go. The kitchen needs redone, the cabinets aren’t even salvageable, they are the original 1950s style. I want to go more modern. As I continued to walk from room to room with my thoughts, I found myself in the basement. I heard the movers yell they were finished, and they left. I looked around, I had a modern washer and dryer left in the dusty basement. There are no cracks in the foundation, it doesn’t smell moist or musty one of the reasons I bought the place it is in great shape, one owner just needs updated. I go back upstairs to go into my car and bring my tools out of my car, my dad always told me when moving keep the important things in your car, so they don’t get lost wonderful advice Dad.

I moved everything from the car into the house, my tools, desktop, monitors, laptop, video game consoles, books and huge first aid kit. I felt a vibration from my pocket and pulled out my phone to answer.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Panzer is all done from his groom. He was a very good boy. Did you want to come get him or would you be needing him dropped off there is an extra fee for that?” The groomer asked.

“Oh! I would love if you could bring him to me.” I replied.

“That is out of our normal service range we will have to charge mileage if that’s ok?” The groomer clarified.

“I will pay whatever.” I stated exhausted with today’s events.

“Ok great. We’ll be there in thirty to forty-five minutes.” I ended the call.

What a lifesaver. ‘I feel like such a horrible mom. Where are his bowls?’ I thought to myself.

I headed to the car to look. “They must have fallen under seat.” I mumbled. Reaching under the seat I found what I was looking for.

“AH HA!” I exclaimed excitedly that something is finally going a bit right.

I brought it in and set up his dishes. The food is in one of the kitchen boxes. If it is not there, I will just order takeout and we will eat together, no big deal.

I decided to take my tools and first aid kit to the basement and get started. I want to keep my mind busy, and off everything. It takes me two trips to get everything down the flight of stairs and set up. The horrible fluorescent lights turned on and my large toolbox opened and organized everything I need out. I get my wireless speaker paired to my phone with my loudest emo music playing and I head back upstairs as I know Panzer is about to be dropped off.

I met the groomer at the front door with the tip and I thank him and said our goodbyes. I close the door and take off the harness and toss it haphazardly to the side. Panzer is so excited but weary as this is a new place.

“Hi baby boy. Did you miss Mama?” I lean down to give him kisses on his big white nose. I have had German Shepherds my whole life, but he has been the biggest and it always seems as if he knows what I need before I even do. I’d be lost without him. “Let’s go downstairs Big Man, this is our new home we need to fix it up. We are going to be here a while.” He followed you without question as you went to work downstairs.

The music continued as I picked up the crowbar and went where I left off on the far wall to start prying off the hideously dated paneling. It was easy to do, the glue they used to attach it was barely holding and only two nails per piece. It didn’t take long. I felt like I had a rhythm going and was on the last piece of this wall. Excited to have started something and getting close to completing a segment had me reeling.

The piece I finished prying hit the ground and Panzer started flipping out. I immediately turned to look at him and he wasn’t looking at me. His nose was in the air, and he was sniffing, his hackles were in the air, and he was growling.

“Panzer, what’s wrong?!” I asked worried. I have never seen this behavior in him. His eyes shot at me and he suddenly moved between me and the wall. This confused me more.

‘I have never seen him like this.’ I thought perplexed. It was just a concrete wall.

I continued to stare at the wall and that’s when the air shifted. As if someone opened a door. Wind blowing through the basement. I looked around confused, the windows are glass blocks, this house was built in the 1950s, the windows don’t open yet there is wind in the basement. I felt my heart beating faster as clearly something is amiss and Panzer sensed it well before you.

The concrete wall swirled and looked blurry and translucent at the same time almost like an old TV set when the signal is not clear, but I can sort of make out a picture but not quite. Just as soon as the wind started it suddenly stopped and the walls picture cleared up. It’s a forest, and there is a small clearing with six trees, three on the left and three on the right. In the center of the trees is a man, he is very close to where I am, and I can make him out. I am not sure if he can see me.

Once, I see the man I realize I have finally fucking snapped. I see him bleeding, he is pale, he has his trademark silver spiked hair like in the show and books. He’s in his jōnin blues and his green vest is almost tattered. His leg is injured, and he’s got a huge gash in his torso. This is all I can make out as Panzer starts to growl. I look up and there is incoming. Six ANBU and they are not of the Hidden Leaf Village. I felt my legs running towards him and that’s when he could see me. He threw what looked to be his last kunai at me and I dodged it. Holy shit he must be dying.

“Kakashi, we have to go, or you will die here.” He looked startled, he doesn’t know who I am, and I don’t blame him. “Six ANBU closing in.” He looks and I can see him calculating. “Shit we don’t have time for this. Panzer!” Panzer jumped through the gate and growled at Kakashi and herded him towards the gate. He stumbled and fell, and I grabbed him by his vest and pulled him through as soon as we were all through the gate closed.

I looked right where my head was, and a kunai stopped right in the concrete at head level. I looked down at Kakashi and he passed out. Shit. Even if this is a hallucination, there still is a chance that this could be real so I will do what I would do in that instance. I need to help him.

I grabbed my first aid kit, gloved up and got to work. There is so much blood fresh, dried and dirt. I can’t salvage the vest. I ripped it off the shirt must go as well. I had to cut through it to get to the wound. I grabbed a roll of paper towels that were within reach and applied pressure to get the wound to stop bleeding. I leaned on it with my knee and while that was working to stop the bleeding, I started cleaning the wound on his leg. My bet is some kind of poison. I don’t know what it is.

“Panzer, stand here. Stay.” Panzer took my place applying pressure. I ran upstairs to my kitchen boxes, I unpacked and frantically looked for the vinegar. I found it in the third box, I remember seeing it. Glad this one didn’t get lost.

I ran back downstair and took over. I poured the vinegar on the open leg wound. No movement. It wasn’t as deep as it could have been but deep enough. I placed some butterfly bandages on it and patched it up. I removed the paper towels and there wasn’t too much blood, the gash is about an inch deep, nothing in there and my guess again some kind of poison got the best of him. I did the same thing, cleaned the wound with vinegar, hoping it would neutralize the poison. I can’t take him to a hospital, shit he’s survived worse. Plus, I know he lives…. unless… Ok none of that. I grabbed the surgical staple gun, removed it from the sterile package and placed four staples in him. Thank God he didn’t move or wake up. That would have been terrifying. Now the I.V. for fluids, I placed an I.V. quickly in his right arm and hung the saline turned the manual drip all the way up. My sister used to always joke that I was prepared for anything. Too bad I was never prepared to lose her.

I turned the music off now that the adrenaline had worn off. I went upstairs and got a pillow and a blanket to try and make him comfortable and to stare at him. I can’t believe this is happening. I needed to keep myself grounded and understand this was real and not a hallucination plus I didn’t want him to take off in this world and panic.

I placed a cool wet cloth on his forehead to help with his slight fever, it wasn’t much my guess it had to do with his body fighting off the poison. Several hours had passed and not much change. He got some color back in his face. Panzer refused to leave my side, so I fed him down here and I have seen him hold his bowels for 48 hours he is fine with this.

I gloved up and started to redress his abdomen wound. It looks clean, not bleeding through, and he seems to be healing at a decent pace; I wonder if that has to do with chakra, I thought. I noticed Panzer stand up abruptly and come next to me quickly. He made a little growl, Kakashi must be coming to. I hurried and dressed the wound to put some distance between us.

Faith Scott 22 and Panzer 3

Created using AI.

[riversimmone]

The Room of Things Hidden

The Room of Things Hidden

TheLadyMalfoy (RiverOfTheSand)

Summary:

Both Draco and Hermione are lovelorn and looking for some action. While Draco attempts to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, Hermione's "charms" are the only thing standing in his way.

Notes:

Cross-posted from fanfiction.net. Important: Draco/Pansy [in beginning]. Loss of virginity. Please excuse this old, corny piece. If you're wondering about the title, the Room of Things Hidden is what Draco called the Room of Requirement in the seventh book when talking about it to Harry, during the final attack on Hogwarts, in case there's any confusion. And obviously, as you read this you'll notice some things are different from the book, but ultimately this is the way I've decided to take it. Rated M. Enjoy. :)

Draco Malfoy was getting off as the dark haired girl crouched in front of him sucked him hard and fast. He groaned, leaning against his bed in the boy's dormitory in the Slytherin dungeons. He wasn't completely naked, his dick simply having been pried loose from the dark pants he always wore when not in his uniform, or robes for that matter. The girl too was still clothed, but the buttons on the front of her blouse were undone and the straps of her bra had been pulled down to expose her breasts without removing the article of clothing.

It was his own fault really, that Pansy Parkinson wouldn't leave him alone. He had been looking to lose his virginity to someone who was pureblood and therefore worthy, but she was the best candidate in the entire school. He hadn't slept around like his reputation had everyone believing, and therefore hadn't earned his nickname "Slytherin Sex God". It infuriated him, but the reason was more fundamental than being due to his reputation. He didn't want to face the reason, not even to himself, as it left a burning feeling on his face that made him feel weak.

Draco liked being venerated and seen as a stud. The girls were falling over themselves to sleep with him, but he had yet to let any of them get that far. He was ready, fuck he wanted it. But that seamless shift from being erect, to maintaining it long enough to do anything about it was not as effortless for him as his reputation would have people believe.

He looked down at Pansy, who was now slowing down, her mouth empty of his shaft she was licking him delicately, in a motion that should have aroused him. Her eyes were half open, her lashes fluttering. He had no idea why the sight of her hot and bothered and her breasts full and heaving did not do enough for him. He wanted to have sex, he could feel the painful throbbing in his muscle, but that was all it was doing. She pulled back slightly, ignoring the disappointed look on Draco's face and lowered her mouth over his dick again.

Still, his arousal and the grinding of his erection on the back of her mouth as she bobbed her head did not make him want to have sex with her. He enjoyed the sensation of her mouth on his dick and was issuing the sounds of gratification that were expected while receiving head. But it was mostly just for show. Yes being stroked and pleasured had made him hard in the first place, but he was having trouble climaxing. It just wasn't going that far for him.

What he wanted was to fuck someone who did more than turn him on. These Slytherin sluts weren't lasting long enough to make him come. There were purebloods in other houses; maybe it was time to expand his palette.

With one last groan, he pushed Pansy away. She was stunned, but didn't bother to complain. She hadn't said anything about the fact that Draco hadn't fucked her yet, but he seriously thought she believed he had. Every now and then, his friends snuck alcohol into the castle and Pansy stole bottles from him. The last time he'd fooled around with her, she had been drunk, and remembered next to nothing the next morning.

"Get out," Draco said, his voice gravely.

Pansy looked annoyed. "Drakie −"

"I said, get out!"

He was so sick of seeing her face, of hearing that whining voice, and even the heaving of her breasts was making him queasy. She quickly fixed her clothes, and left the room. But not before glancing at him, now looking more concerned than affronted. He ignored her exit, did his pants back up and laid backward onto his bed with a frustrated groan.

'Why can't I get it up and keep it there?'

X X X

Hermione Granger entered the Great Hall for breakfast in high spirits. She didn't know why, but she just felt like singing. Her best friend, Harry Potter smiled at her exuberance while Ron Weasley merely scoffed down his breakfast, typically oblivious.

"Who is he?" Harry teased, lowering his voice so as to not let Ronald know what they were talking about.

"Why does there have to be a guy involved?" She whispered back fiercely.

He chuckled. "Because of what you told me last week in the Gryffindor common room."

Hermione sighed deeply. She had announced to Harry and Ginny that she was tired of being single. She had taken a quick look through the available boys in the school and even went on a date with Seamus Finnegan in an attempt to get somewhere with someone. She found that after hours of listening to him talking about Quidditch and his mother's new job within the Ministry for Magic, he wasn't very interesting as a person. It had gotten old real quick.

Hermione really was tired of being single. But it was Harry and Ginny's fault really. They were so lovey dovey and perfect for each other that it made Hermione jealous. And after hearing from Ginny that they had finally slept together just over a week ago, she was desperate to feel a bit of the happiness that they were experiencing. She was a natural with books, knowledge, remembering facts and answering any question the teachers threw at her, but boys… well there was only one boy she had even kissed, but he was out of the question.

Hermione wasn't looking to have a long distance relationship with Victor Krum, although they had kissed and fooled around a little – the latter was over the previous summer when he'd come to England for some publicity thing. The life of a star Quidditch player; she rolled her eyes at that.

"Put a sock in it Harry."

Harry grinned wider. "So there is a guy?"

"Actually, no," she whispered, despite herself. "Things aren't going according to plan."

"I could speak to –"

"No, don't you dare Harry Potter!" Her whisper rose in volume and Ron looked up at them finally. "I don't need to be set up."

"What's this about Hermione?" Ron asked, after swallowing his food. Still, he hadn't swallowed it all.

Harry glanced at him. "Hungry?"

Ron looked down at his food. The plate was laden down heavily and even though he was about half way through it, he looked at it with ravenous hunger. He nodded his head. "I skipped dinner last night to train for the Quidditch match this weekend and woke up starving."

"You keep eating at the same pace you have been and you're going to throw up Ronald," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

He just shrugged his shoulders and returned to eating his food again.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered to Harry and he too, shrugged his shoulders.

"No problem. But I was serious you know. I don't have to tell anyone I'm doing this for you," he added when she moved to snap at him again. "They need never know."

Hermione simmered. "I don't know Harry. I'm beginning to think there isn't anyone at this entire school who would date me."

He gave her a panged look. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're totally date-able."

She smiled at his choice of words. "Maybe to someone like Krum, who I probably would be dating if he went to Hogwarts," she admitted, surprised at herself.

Harry glanced at Ron and then raised his eyebrows at Hermione. She shook her head firmly and he let that go. Ron was a good friend – when he wasn't letting his jealousy over Harry's popularity or Hermione's smarts get the better of him – but that was all.

"Well then," Harry said softly. "Maybe there is someone here like Krum."

She couldn't help the sarcastic, disbelieving smirk that crept onto her face and Harry returned the sentiment.

"Yeah," he said, "I guess it doesn't really work that way."

"Ooohh!" Ron stood up looking sick to his stomach covered his mouth with both hands and ran from the Great Hall. A lot of people watching him go started laughing out loud. Everyone knew what he was like.

Hermione sighed. "I told him so."

X X X

Draco looked up at the commotion over at the Gryffindor table and smirked as the Weasley ran from the Great Hall, looking like he was about to vomit. It made him feel a little better, since he hadn't been very happy since Pansy. He had been in the Room of Things Hidden all night, just trying to get the image of the dark haired girl going down on him out of his head. It hadn't worked.

"Oh that is priceless," Blaise Zabini said, sitting next to him and guffawing at the very public display. "I'd run out of here like that too, if I were him and saw my reflection."

The group around them laughed and Draco smiled. That normally would've been his line, but Blaise had known him for years, and knew he wasn't feeling up to it. When Draco was "out of commission" for whatever reason, Blaise took up the role for a period of time. What were friends for, after all?

Still, his insult could use a little work.

Draco stole furtive glances over the Great Hall for the rest of breakfast, remembering that he had decided to check out the girls from the other houses. There was a very pretty blonde at the Ravenclaw table he vaguely remembered was the daughter of some ministry official, but didn't know her name. He hadn't looked at the girls from other houses before now, so he didn't know where to begin. He had a reputation amongst the Slytherin girls that he hadn't entirely earned, but that had started because of his family connections and name. He doubted that would make as much of an impact on the others.

Draco sighed heavily, earning himself a questioning glance from Blaise.

Blaise.

Blaise Zabini had slept with that blonde Ravenclaw girl. Draco turned his head away from the Ravenclaw table and addressed his friend, keeping his voice low so that only Blaise could hear him.

"I was just wondering about that blonde from Ravenclaw you fucked last month."

Blaise smiled knowingly. "Finally tired of Pansy?"

Draco nodded.

"Well, her name is Shalandra. Don't know her last name. I actually got her in bed by showing her my Quidditch ball collection."

"Which ball?" Draco asked, meaning the question to sound more like a sexual innuendo.

Blaise chuckled. "Funny, but no; it was the one with all the bludgers. I told her they had nothing on me. But really, I think she's just a slut."

Draco laughed with him. But by the end of their discussion, and once he had admitted to Blaise that he was looking to the purebloods of other houses and leave Slytherin behind, he still hadn't decided where to head from here. For the rest of the day, he found himself daydreaming about it, scrawling nonsensical scribbles on his Transfiguration homework absentmindedly and screwing up his potions class worse than he had been doing for the last five and a half years.

He checked his calendar. The Christmas holidays started in just under a week. Why oh why did wizards and witches all over the world celebrate a holiday based on a religion that had hijacked old, pagan rites in order to create it? He sighed. At least he would be able to leave the castle and clear his head for a while. This strain on his brain was killing him.

There was one more Quidditch match before the start of the holidays – Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Draco hated Gryffindor, but found himself hoping they would win. It would mean that he'd have the opportunity to knock Potter off his broom in the finals. He snickered at this.

Once the sun was starting to set, the members of the Slytherin team headed to the Quidditch field to practise. Even though they didn't have a game before the holidays, Flint was a slave driver. He wanted to practise before they went away, and then compare the team's performance to the first practise when they got back. It would allow him to weed out their weak points, discover where they needed more work, and decide on which tactics were the sloppiest from lack of practise. This was his reasoning to himself. But to the rest of the team, he just told them to buck up or get the fuck off his team.

Half way through the practise it started to rain. Not that that stopped his tyrannical ranting, so they raged on.

Finally, the practise was over and with the pouring rain, Draco couldn't stop shivering as he collected some dry clothes and made his way to the prefect's bathroom. The rest of the team were heading to the Slytherin common room for a round of Butterbeers that someone had snuck into the castle, but Draco didn't much feel like joining in. He hadn't been feeling very well since his hard on from Pansy, as though she was some cancer that had infected him. He hadn't done very well during practise either, and had to use an excuse not to get berated. Flint wasn't in the worst mood, compared to some other practises.

'Merlin, I just want to get laid,' Draco told himself.

He just wanted to feel himself rise at the touch of some beautiful witch, with no concerns that he wasn't going to be able to come or go beyond head. He needed it so bad that his mind even went over the list of girls in his head that he knew had Muggle blood in them. Draco wasn't feeling well, he wasn't thinking straight, and seriously worried he was coming down with something. As he sank into the hot, relaxing bath, he forgot that he hadn't put the sign outside the bathroom to show it was occupied.

X X X

Hermione left the Gryffindor common room unhappy. She had been happy earlier this morning, but because she couldn't explain away the feeling, it hadn't lasted for very long. There was literally no guy in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw she both found attractive and would be seen dead with her. And of course, Slytherin was out of the question. Ninety-nine percent of them didn't like Harry, so they'd never have anything to do with his mudblood best friend.

Hermione felt like crying.

'Am I going to be single forever?'

She sounded and felt so pathetic, she knew.

So she had decided to take a bath. Harry had had many an epiphany in the prefect's bathroom (he had only been allowed in there this year, now that he was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, but had broken that rule before this school year even started). So it was her turn. Also, this had been Harry's idea.

She was relieved to see there was no occupied "sign" and entered the room, making sure to put one up now. The air in the room was warm, like someone had recently vacated and she smiled at that. Not bothering to look in the direction of the bath itself, she turned toward the small cupboard that always had towels, intent on laying out everything she needed before even getting undressed. She collected the necessities, wondering how many house elves were expected to keep this room in this pristine state and started to walk over to the bath, her right hand reaching around to undo her robes.

She stopped in her tracks. "M-Malfoy?"

Draco was sitting in the bath water, his upper torso bare and naked to her eyes, watching every move she had just made. Her eyes darted over his exposed body, and she inhaled deeply. He was much nicer under all those robes or casual clothes than she would've expected him to be. What was wrong with her? He was Draco Malfoy, not some Viktor Krum substitution. She mentally slapped herself when Draco just continued to stare at her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" She asked, both flustered and annoyed.

He smirked. "What does it look like Granger? I'm having a bath."

"I meant that you didn't put the sign up outside."

'Stop talking to him,' she told herself. 'Just get out of here!'

But even as she snapped at him, her eyes didn't want to leave that lean, muscled chest.

He waved away her comment. "I forgot to."

She continued looking incensed so he decided to have a little fun with her. "You're welcome to join me."

She couldn't believe he had just said that. He couldn't believe he had just said that!

Hermione gaped. "W-what?"

Draco sighed. 'Merlin, I've sunk far.'

But he couldn't help it. If he didn't get laid soon, he might end up fucking someone like Granger just to get the experience over and done with. Still, the thought didn't make him shiver in revulsion.

'And there are yet more depths to plummet,' he thought, worried about his sanity.

"Fine," he said. "I was done anyway."

Without thinking, he stood up to leave the water. But the sight of her face reddening as her eyes flickered over his dick made him want to jump her right then and there. Draco restrained himself. This was no time to give in to his needs just because he was frustrated. He smirked at the Gryffindor prefect, stepping out of the water and walking past her to get a towel. She gulped audibly as he brushed her. Okay, so he'd done that on purpose, but that was as far as he was going… right?

He dressed in front of her and was about to leave when something made him stop. She was frozen in place, shock registering on her face. She looked so cute like that. Draco stepped up to her and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. She jumped at the feel of his hand, but did not pull away. Clearly he had done a number on her. Abandoning all reservations, he lowered his lips to her right ear and whispered.

"I know I'm amazing. I'd like to fuck you too, Granger."

X X X

Hermione just wanted this over with. The idea that Draco Malfoy, the "Slytherin Sex God" wanted her the Muggle born best friend of Harry Potter was crazy! But she couldn't get him out of her head. She would never have believed that seeing him in the prefect's bathroom like that would invoke a rush of endorphins, and cause her to feel faint.

Seeing Draco's bare chest was bad enough; those lean muscles, that smirk as he caught her staring. And then of course, he'd stood up, out of the bubbles of the bath he'd made and she had caught him full frontal. She couldn't help the warmth that rushed through her, or the sudden wet sensation down there. Trust her to get wet over Draco Malfoy!

This was why she wanted a boyfriend. She wasn't the type of girl to care about following the crowd or dating just because others were. Not having had sex made her want it. She had no idea if this was normal or not, as Ginny had always gone red at the mention of it prior to sleeping with Harry, and now seemed relaxed and almost detached when the act was even hinted at.

'Maybe it's just me then.'

She'd run into Malfoy shortly after the bathroom incident and he'd asked her to meet him in the Astronomy Tower at midnight, the night before they would be going home for Christmas and she spent the next five days as a bundle of nerves. She even dreamt about that platinum blonde Slytherin every night, waking up hot and bothered every time. Maybe that was what he wanted, to rile her up and get her hot for him only to laugh and point at her in some very public spectacle.

That was how she decided not to meet him in the tower at midnight.

But fifteen minutes before the deadline, she "borrowed" Harry's Marauder's Map and snuck out of Gryffindor Tower. She couldn't help herself. The map showed that Draco Malfoy was headed in the general direction of the tower, and there was no-one else out of bed. Maybe he was telling the truth after all. Still, she had no idea why she was meeting with him. With Voldemort and his followers attacking in the open now, how could she possibly justify her feelings for Draco?

'Merlin, did I just think I have feelings for Malfoy?'

No, she was just jittery. That's what it was, it had to be. She barely knew him, and everything she did know painted him as a selfish, cowardly prat who would sooner curse her than say her name properly, let alone have sex with her.

And she stopped her advance toward the tower again. No, she had to go back, and forget this ever happened. But her feet wouldn't oblige. There was nothing impeding her way – Filch was on the other side of the castle, Peeves was "busy" in the Great Hall (probably setting up some ridiculous prank for the last day before the majority of the student population left for the holidays), and still no-one else was even stirring, let alone out of bed.

Hermione took a deep breath and continued on. At the very least, she was going to find out what Draco had to say to explain this all away. They weren't going to have an audience, of this she could now be sure, but what was going through his head? She ignored the voice in the back of her head that was telling her the only reason she was going to this meet was to see if he would take off his clothes. His body was never far from her mind, anyway.

"Granger," Draco said, as she made sure to enter the tower after he did. "I was worried you weren't coming."

Okay, so she had made him wait a little.

"So was I," she said. "What are we doing here, Malfoy?"

He smiled slightly. "As I told you in the prefect's bathroom, I want to fuck you."

She sighed deeply and despite her frustration at his words, she didn't interrupt him as he continued.

"I'm not fucking you here," he said quickly. "I just wanted to make something clear."

"And what is that?"

"My family is going to Spain for a week, but I've convinced my father to let me stay at the Malfoy Manor alone. I want to fuck you there."

This was sounding more and more ridiculous. "I didn't come here to agree to sleep with you Malfoy."

"Then why are you here?"

She felt her face warm. Okay, so she hadn't been able to come up with an excuse. She should've just refused to meet him here. That would've put him off of these strange urges, right?

Draco smirked when she didn't respond and grabbed her roughly. She let out a small yelp and he kissed her to silence any more complaints. She was making his pants expand without having to suck him and this was the only reason he wanted her… right?

He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that was telling him that the only reason he was here was to see her naked. It would be fair though, considering she had already got the full monty from him. He played with her lips, licking her softly to ask for an invitation, to which she immediately relented. His hands clasped along her back, at her midsection, and he smiled into her mouth when she stood on her tiptoes and flung her arums around his neck. To this, he slid his hands under her robes and pulled her closer. She was backed against solid stone, so he lifted her up and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

Hermione had no idea what she was doing, but enjoyed it all the same. She let Draco slide his tongue into her mouth and moaned at the fireworks he was setting off inside of her. She would expect no less from someone like him, he knew what he was doing so well, that this was basically second nature to him. She had overheard Slytherin girls gushing about him in more than one of the girl's lavatory, which was how she knew about his reputation as the "Slytherin sex god".

But she was a virgin, and had no intention of losing her purity to someone as tainted as Draco Malfoy. She wanted her first time to be special, and not just that, but with someone just as inexperienced as her. Sure, she probably would have given it up to Viktor Krum by now if she saw him often enough, and he was probably very experienced in that area. But at least Krum wasn't willing to fight alongside Voldemort.

Hermione pulled away at that thought, suddenly sickened by the touch, scent and breath of Draco Malfoy. But he wouldn't let her leave, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to stand straight against the stone wall behind her.

"What is your problem?" He asked, his breath hot on her face.

She groaned. Merlin he suddenly felt so good, pressed against her. His breath made her tremble, while the feel of his body and a slight bulge against her lower region made her want to let him take her virginity right here and now. She was so confused.

"I can't do this," she said, now on the verge of tears. "Draco, please just let me go."

His expression softened when he realised she had just used his given name. The tears flowed over her face now, and he wiped at them gently. He didn't want to push her. He wanted to hold her, whisper loving things to her and have her decide for herself. Draco could barely believe he was having these thoughts, let alone meeting her up here with no intention of harming her. She was making him crazy.

He had spent years only wanting a pureblood and never even considering the rest of the female population to even equal any that Slytherin house had to offer. But now, this Muggle born was worming her way into his heart. Why, because she could get him hard without even trying? And what about the Vanishing Cabinet he was currently working on in the Room of Things Hidden? His desire to protect and love Hermione Granger conflicted with his desire not to be killed for not helping the Death Eaters into the castle. Not to mention what would happen to his family.

Maybe she was right to pull away. Either way, he had to choose which desire was the stronger.

'Why can't I have both?' That little voice in the back of his head was greedy.

Draco sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Hermione stopped struggling, stunned by his words. "You're sorry?"

He nodded.

She swallowed heavily, grabbing the front of his robes almost possessively, lowering her eyes to stare at her hands. "It wasn't you, at least not entirely you." She couldn't believe she was about to admit this to him. "It's just that I know your reputation, and I-I'm a v-virgin. I want my first time to be with someone like me."

Draco stiffened. He didn't know she knew what the Slytherin girls were saying about him. It didn't bother him that she was a virgin, after all, he was as well. But he wasn't so open about it. Still, she thought he was experienced with the penetration, and he realised that this was the part that she was most worried about − he had done almost everything but. He wanted to sleep with Hermione, but she wouldn't because she thought he wasn't a virgin…

The voice in the back of his head remained silent. Okay, so he had to figure this one out for himself. Dare he tell her? Blaise didn't even know. Still, he had no intention of sleeping with Blaise.

Draco lifted Hermione's chin to look her in the eyes. "I haven't had sex either."

He hesitated to use the word "virgin". It sounded so filthy. He had no idea why.

Hermione didn't believe him. "Yes you have."

"No I haven't."

"Yes, you have!" Now she was angry. "Pretending you haven't won't work. I'm not sleeping with you."

He stopped her from leaving, again. She wasn't going anywhere until she believed him. "I'm not lying!"

She kicked him in the groin and raced away when the shock and pain brought his hands down to grab his family jewels. Okay, so he exuded confidence and sex appeal. Who would believe he was still a virgin?

X X X

Hermione ignored the letter Draco sent her just before they got onto the train and pretended he didn't exist when they had to patrol the train, as prefects. Ron was with them anyway. She found the carriage with Harry and Ginny, grateful also to see Luna and Neville when she and Ron arrived. She acted normally enough not to draw attention, but Hermione spent the entire trip thinking about Draco Malfoy. She couldn't help it. The memory of him pressing up against her and the feel of his tongue tantalising her mouth were too much not to think of him.

Everything she had told him was true. She had poured her heart out to this "sex god" and in return, he had lied through his teeth. And for what, to get in her pants? It was sick, so low to stoop that she wondered why he would bother. She was a Mudblood after all. She shivered, just thinking that word. Eventually, conversation died out in the carriage and Hermione could gaze out over the passing scenery without making anyone suspicious. Eventually Ginny brought her attention away from the window with talk about some new product George and Fred Weasley had invented and Hermione welcomed the distraction.

They got off the train and Hermione spotted Draco right away. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She sighed and turned away from him. Both of them went their separate ways for the holidays. It wasn't until the morning they were getting ready to return to Hogwarts that it suddenly occurred to Hermione that Draco just might have been telling the truth. Really, why would he lie about something that important?

After all, what if she had gone blabbing? Not that any Slytherin would believe her, but other houses might have.

So Hermione decided she was going to seek him out and have it out with him, if he still felt the same of course. If he had given up on her, she was more than willing to pretend it had never happened.

So after the welcome back feast, Hermione excused herself from her friends and followed the platinum blonde through the crowd. He must have realised she was on his tail, because Draco disappeared, seemingly into nothingness, only to reappear by grabbing her from behind a curtain on the second floor. His hand covered her mouth as she let out an involuntary squeal. They both disappeared out of normal view. She shoved at him but he kept his grip on her, pressing against her as he had done in the Astronomy Tower and up against a stone wall… again.

"You ruined my Christmas, Granger," he said, in a mocking tone. "So I'm going to take it back."

She let go of his arms, not having the strength to pull them off of her and grabbed the front of his robes instead, much in the same way she had done last time. He smiled down at her.

"Are you going to behave?"

She nodded and he moved his hand off of her mouth. But still, he wouldn't let her go. She didn't want him to this time, and didn't resist as he lowered his mouth to hers. Hermione embraced him, just like the last time, and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist as he reached around and pulled her up to him.

He was so excited that she was responding this way that he didn't bother to make some smart alec remark about her change of heart. He had no intention of ruining the moment. He had not been able to change his plans not to accompany his parents to Spain and spent the entire holidays scheming on how to make Granger pay for this. She was going to sleep with him, no matter what!

Draco moaned as his bulge pressed against her bundle of nerves and she sighed into his mouth, definitely turned on. Merlin she was so intoxicating! He slid his right hand inside her robes and his fingers found her nipples which were hidden under her shirt, but already hard for him. It made him wonder what was going on inside her knickers. She trembled at his touch, running her hands through his hair and pulling him deeper into the kiss. So he had her permission to continue.

Draco removed his hand from her perky nipples, using his left to steady her against the wall, while the right one slid down to the skirt she always wore with her robes. He lifted the pleated skirt enough to slide his hand up, brushing her inner thigh as he went, eliciting a delighted moan from her at the same time. His fingers traced over the thin material of her knickers, and his dick throbbed as he closed his eyes. Her shape was so perfect.

Hermione was at her wits end as Draco fingered her. He slid his fingers under the material and she gasped as he started to stroke her folds. She was already wet, which he could not help but notice, making him throb even more. His dick was threatening to burst free of its own accord.

But this was not the perfect place. He couldn't concentrate on his thoughts. He needed a place where they wouldn't be interrupted, and somewhere there was a bed. It was going to be her first time, so she had to be as comfortable as possible. Of course! Where else? He had not worked on the Vanishing Cabinet since before that night in the prefect's bathroom, so it wasn't going to be out where she could see it. The Room of Things Hidden was the perfect place. It seemed to serve so many purposes. And once they were inside, no-one would be able to get in!

Draco moaned into Hermione's mouth, fighting his urge to continue, no matter where they were. They would be expected to go to their dormitories, and were verging on running late. Thankfully, she had more self control and managed to pull out of the embrace. She was breathing heavily, but determined to do this right.

"Not here," she barely managed to whisper.

He nodded his agreement. They straightened up their clothing and took a moment to compose themselves. Hermione was still flushed and Draco needed to be able to walk out of this small annexe hidden by heavy curtains without people staring at his crotch.

"Meet me here at ten o'clock tonight," he said. "I have the perfect place."

When they finally went their separate ways, Hermione was still very excited. She couldn't believe what had just happened, and was actually looking forward to being alone with Draco Malfoy! She "borrowed" Harry's Marauder Map again, just in case, except this time she had to let him know she was heading out. He and Ron were playing Exploding Snap when she headed for the portrait hole. She was a prefect so it was okay.

"I've just got to go to the library. There are some new books I want to look at before classes start up."

They rolled their eyes at her but didn't complain. Well she wasn't lying. There really were some new books. But reading them was the last thing on her mind right now.

She found the annexe easily, and again made Draco wait for her. He didn't seem to care, taking her hand and leading her away without so much as a word. After a short while, she realised where they were headed.

"The Room of Requirement?"

Draco smirked. "I call it the Room of Things Hidden, but yeah. Perfect right?"

She nodded, impressed. They concentrated, thinking that they didn't want to be disturbed and letting their urges translate the rest. The room that greeted them was a bedroom that looked like it had come straight out of some kind of mansion, and Hermione wondered (considering this was much larger than she had thought of) if this was reminiscent of Draco's room in the Malfoy manor.

Suddenly she was nervous, but he didn't give her time to cave in to these feelings. He started kissing her and she pushed her concerns away. Their robes fell quickly to the floor and Draco picked her up bridal style, laying her on the bed before climbing on next to her. He was delighted by the fact that she was wearing a skirt again, though he doubted it was the same one, considering she smelt too good to have not just had a shower.

Hermione laid back patiently as Draco started to undo the bindings on her clothes. He was taking it slow, savouring every inch of the act of disrobing her. His hands travelled over her body, sliding under her shirt to pull it off, and then pulling her skirt down and off of her body in one swift move. He unclasped her bra and slid her knickers down her legs, using his toes to push them the rest of the way.

Draco had started kissing her mouth again, his hands on her waist. Hermione returned the favour, lifting his shirt over his head; unbuckling the belt on his jeans and tugging at his pants and underwear in one go. It was now or never. They were both incredibly horny, the previously nervousness having disappeared the moment they started to undress each other.

"Hermione," he whispered staring into her eyes.

She smiled, her hands on his chest as she shifted underneath him to part her legs. "I know."

She wrapped her right arm around behind his head and pulled him down to kiss her. Draco felt himself expand, unencumbered now, his dick rubbing against her wet sex as they both moaned at the same time. The sensations were driving them both crazy.

"Fuck," he couldn't help but swear, and licked her tongue, giving in for a moment to the passionate kiss she had started.

He moved his mouth to her cheek, down to her jaw line and nibbled her left earlobe as she ran her fingers through his hair. He shifted his attention to her neck, using his tongue now as he traced her skin, passing her shoulders and sliding down to her breasts, his entire body rubbing against hers as he went. He took his time, nibbling her nipples, his right hand cupping and fondling the size of her left breast.

"Mmm."

Hermione bit down on her bottom lip, more aroused than she had ever been in her life. Yeah, she knew it was about to get even better, but she had never been in this position before, so the feel of Draco's hands on her bare skin was the height of anything she had ever experienced before.

Eventually, his mouth started to travel again, and she relaxed into him, now closing her eyes as his lips rained soft kisses down on her stomach, heading for her already wet sex. She parted her legs wider, but his hands pushed against her inner thighs anyway, showing her that she could go even wider.

Draco bit her clitoris softly, smirking at the deep sound of pleasure that erupted from Hermione at the sensation. He rubbed her clit with his thumb as his mouth continued on to her folds. The amount of moisture already down here was enough to send his mind spinning. She was having such a powerful erotic affect on him, that it was good to know that it was going both ways.

He parted her folds with his free hand and slid his tongue into the depths of her abyss. She gripped the bed sheets, trembling and crying out with every thrust of his tongue, completely lost to the delirium. Draco had not done this part before, but felt like an old hat at it. It was an incredible turn on, hearing the sighs and mewing of her beautiful voice as he went down on her. He had no idea that giving head could be just as, if not more gratifying than getting it.

Hermione trembled again, her knees rising and falling as she came in the next moment. She let out a final sigh. "Fuck… fuck… fuck…"

Draco lifted his head to hers and smirked at the satisfied expression on her face before lowering his mouth to hers. She could taste herself on his lips, but instead of being disgusted by it, like she'd imagined she would be, it was actually quite nice. She wanted more, and pressed her mouth deeper against his, her tongue conveying how much he had turned her on.

He finger fucked her as he enjoyed the fervour of her kiss, and once she had released her hold on him, she sighed.

"On your back," she said.

Draco did as he was told not bothering to hide the grin on his face as she went down on him. Hermione had no idea what she was doing, but the sounds issuing from his mouth told her she was doing it right. She ran her tongue along the length of his dick one hand caressing his balls as she did this. He was already stiff to her touch, but she kept stroking him, finally moving her mouth to encompass the length of his dick. Draco placed a hand on the back of her head and she started to bob her head in time with the movement of his hand.

This sensation was not new to him, but good god it was so much better. Hermione could turn him on just by breathing the same air as him, so fucking his dick with her mouth was beyond blissful erotica for him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he came into her mouth. She lifted her head and he wasn't offended when she didn't swallow it. Just the sight of those beautiful eyes, glazed with desire for him was enough.

He threw her onto her back and spread her legs as wide as they would go. But first, he had say something, before they were so far gone into rapture that he might never speak again. He stared into her eyes, their foreheads touching.

"Hermione, I think I love you."

The surprise on her face was minimal, like she had figured it all out on her own already. She nodded her head. "I love you too."

"Relax into me," he whispered, and she sighed with contentment.

Draco held his shaft at her entrance and slid it in, past her folds but only part way. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted with the exclamation. He gave her a moment to adjust to his size and pushed in further. When he encountered her barrier, he hesitated, shifting above her.

"Relax," he said. "This is going to hurt, but only at first."

She nodded and gripped him tighter. Draco slid in the rest of the way, not too fast to mindlessly tear at the flesh without concern for her, but not so slow that it made the pain last longer. He had learnt a lot listening to Blaise's boasting and knew not to go too far for her first time.

Hermione let out a soft scream, the pain moistening her eyes. She didn't care. This was worth it. His body pressed against hers, he moved slowly, the occasional twitch of his muscle driving him on and sending spasms of pleasure through her body. Opening her mouth to his kisses, she lifted her knees to wrap her legs around him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt himself slide in deeper with the movement of her hips. She was pushing into his thrusts as he drove his dick as deep as he could.

She murmured into his mouth as she realised the pain was starting to subside. "Faster."

The pleasure was taking over now, and he pounded into her faster. He kept the pace steady, not wanting to climax too soon, and just enjoyed the feel of her, the sounds they were both making as they exhaled into each other's mouths.

"Fuck."

He stopped kissing her and lowered his head to rest on her shoulder, and shifted his angle on her, his dick trying to slip out as she came again. Hermione groaned. They had delayed it for as long as they could, but he was close now, murmuring this into her ear. She barely registered his voice, too far gone into her own ecstasy to stop and fully comprehend what he had just said. But she pushed her hips down to meet his harder now, realising the end was near.

Draco groaned, lowering his mouth to the nape of her neck as she kissed his earlobe. With one final shudder, he spilled into her, his warmth streaming in with unbelievable ease. There was no struggle, no war within himself, and he relaxed as he climaxed, exhausted but more content than he had ever been in his entire life. All other concerns out of his head, he started to drift off, but the sensation as Hermione started stroking the crease along his spine was keeping him awake.

She was in no hurry to move out from underneath him, not wanting to get rid of the feeling of him inside of her. He lifted himself up to look down on her however, and her muscles tightened around him. He smirked at this.

"And what are you so pleased about?" She asked teasingly, grinning up at him.

He brushed at her hair. "I'm content and happy. You've made me so crazy and there's no going back now."

She lost her smile. "To what are you referring?"

Draco kissed her lips swiftly. "I love you Hermione Granger. You've stolen my heart."

She rolled her eyes, but blushed. "That's not crazy."

"Well, there's still no going back."

"Because of the war?"

He nodded.

Hermione thought about that. "Then you had better decide now, Draco Malfoy, which side you're really on."

He groaned and pulled her to him. "Not now. I can't think when I'm naked, and I'm not getting dressed any time soon."

She giggled and grabbed his hair to lift his head so that she could look into his eyes. "Okay, but I doubt the Death Eaters can offer you the kind of incentives I can."

That was very true. And this was why he decided then and there that the Vanishing Cabinet was going to stay vanished.

X X X

[write-r-die]

Fear of the Water - Chapter 1

Chunks of this were originally posted on my Hunger Games blog but I didn't keep up with posting and I figured I should keep all my writing in one place

Masterlist

(ANNIE)

“Annie,” a voice says. There’s something pressing on my shoulder. “Annie, wake up.”

I try to hide my face behind my hair. “Nooooo,” I moan, drawing out the word.

“Come on. It’s reaping day.”

I crack my eyes open. My twin brother Bosun is standing over me. He’s bathed and dressed already. Must have been awake for hours. His strawberry hair is combed for once, but bags and purple shadows hang under his blue-green eyes. I wonder if he slept at all.

He forces a smile. “I don’t know how you sleep so late. I can never sleep at all before the Reaping.”

The only reason I’m able to is because I stole a sleeping draught from our aunt’s medicine cabinet.  She doesn’t know, of course – she’d have one of her episodes. Probably threaten to send Bosun and me back to the community home. But we’re seventeen now, and we can work full time now that we’ve finished school, and I doubt she’d be willing to part with our salaries. But it also means we can live on our own. Bosun and I constantly promise ourselves that day will come soon, but people usually only move out of their family homes when they get married.

My cousins and I help each other into our dresses and comb one another’s hair. One must look their absolute best on Reaping Day in case one gets called up. Don’t want the sponsors’ first impression of you to be in swimming clothes.

Adrie ties my hair up in a ribbon as I braid Coraline’s hair from behind. Coraline is nearly eighteen; Adrie is fifteen. We all qualify for the reaping, and even though a girl named Coastia Is set to volunteer, we’re still nervous wrecks. Everybody is.

My aunt Chelsea looks us all over one more time to be sure we’re presentable.

We don’t bother with breakfast since none of us will be able to eat anything anyway. We walk toward the pavilion where the reaping is held in relative silence. I give Bosun’s hand a quick squeeze before he joins his friends on the boys’ side of the crowd.

“Dodge got his hands on a bottle of rum,” Bosun says to me. “When all this is over, we’ll get drunk and go for a swim. Okay?”

I lower my voice and try not to move my lips too much as I speak. “Do we have to bring the cousins?”

“God, no. They’d ruin it.” Bosun gives me a quick squeeze. “It’ll be you, me, Dodge, and Ondine. And Gill, I think. And maybe a couple of Dodge’s cousins, but they’ll bring their own liquor.”

“I hate most of Dodge’s cousins.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll be drunk.” He goes off toward the boys’ side and I look around for Ondine. She’ll need somebody to hold her hand through all this, the awful memories it will drag up.

Ondine, who’s been with Bosun for as long as anybody can remember, is my best friend. Maybe my only proper friend – except for Dodge, I guess. Bosun’s the social one; as his twin, I can just insert myself into whatever relationships he has without putting in the work of getting to know someone and then his friends become mine.

Ondine’s sister Liffey was my proper best friend until she died of an infected cut on her arm in the arena last year. Ondine, already an orphan, is now totally alone except for Bosun, who she’ll probably marry in a few years.

“Annie!”

I turn at the sound of my name. “Ondine.”

Lithe, lovely Ondine rushes toward me and grabs my hands so hard that my knuckles crack. “Oh, I’m so glad I found you. I couldn’t stand to be alone for this.”

“Me neither.”

She talks when she’s anxious, so I’m prepared when she starts speaking a mile a minute. “We just have to remember that we’re nearly done. This is my last reaping, and you and Bosun will be done next year. And then we’ll all be safe.” Her throat bounces as she swallows back tears. “Right?”

I smile. “Right.”

She catches sight of a few of her friends and drags me over to them.

(FINNICK)

I sit with the other victors on the platform in the shade. Everybody else stands on the ground facing the stage, the sun shining directly into their eyes. They’ve probably all ruined their clothes with sweat by now.

An attendant comes around to us and offers to powder our faces so we don’t look “too damp.” Mags is the only one polite enough to say no; the rest of us just ignore the attendant altogether. I let her give me a light dusting.

Eefa is half-asleep, Mags has her hands folded in her lap, and Broadsea keeps itching his beard and occasionally baring his teeth at people who stare too long. Proteus hasn’t taken his seat yet; he’s chatting with the mayor and the harbormaster about spatchcocking, which I guess is a cooking thing since that’s his passion. Maybe ‘passion’ is too strong a word; Proteus is too apathetic to experience any strong urge or emotion. His hobby, perhaps, is a better description.

We sit in order of victory, which means that as the most recent victor, I’m at the end of the line.  I’m stuck next to damn Broadsea, and, since I sit on his left, I’m stuck looking at the mangled side of his face from the corner of my eye.

Mags is the only one I get along with. She’s the only one I like and she’s one of the only people in the world who genuinely likes me. As our district’s first victor, she’s seated at the other end of the line.

The microphone at the front of the stage shrieks as our Capitol escort adjusts it. She’s gotten even more surgery done to disguise her age since last summer, but instead of looking younger she just looks strange. She gives the introductory speech reminding us why the Hunger Games exist and what an honor it is to be chosen.

Piers Brewre volunteers for the boys.

The Career is about average height, maybe a little taller, and well-built. His muscles don’t bulge out of his body the way other Careers’ sometimes do, but they’re just big enough to see that they’re there.

Most of our tributes are Careers; regular kids get called up about a third of the time. We don’t have as many Careers as 1 and 2, but it’s practical to have a few. Careers have a real shot at winning and they save someone else’s life by volunteering to compete. I’ve always wondered why other districts don’t have this practice. It would save them a lot of heartache.

Piers takes his spot on the stage and crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for his partner to be called.

Brae clears her throat. “Now for the girls!”

There’s confusion in the crowd. An eighteen-year-old girl named Coastia was set to volunteer this year. Most people don’t change their minds about volunteering, and those who do aren’t usually allowed to withdraw. Coastia must’ve bribed somebody to get out of it.

Someone angrily shouts “Coastia! What did you do?” and a girl of about eighteen that must be her shrinks to the back of the crowd. The other girls begin to cluster into little pockets, all holding hands and whispering to each other. Other people start to scream out all sorts of horrible things, and most of the girls begin to panic. They thought, at least this year, they were safe. Now the odds are their only protection.

Brae, our escort, prances over to the other bowl and reaches in. She accidentally grabs two, and takes her sweet time choosing which to keep and which to toss back with the others. She opens the slip of paper and clears her throat before reading, “Annie Cresta!”

After a few seconds, a girl emerges from the crowd. Flowing hair. Wide eyes. Maybe sixteen or seventeen. Visibly trembling. She stumbles a few times as she climbs the steps to the stage, anxiously wiping her sweaty palms on her blue dress. Her chin quivers from the strain of holding back tears. She’s going to lose the battle.

There’s a commotion near the front of the boys’ group. A boy says something and surges forward, but another boy, who I know to be the grandson of one of our other victors, catches him by the arm and pulls him back.

Brae smiles brightly. “Ladies and gentlemen of District Four, I present to you – your tributes!”

There’s plenty of mandatory clapping, then the tributes are led into the Justice Building. The Head Peacekeeper steps to the front of the stage and starts barking instructions. “Those of you wishing to bid farewell to the tributes, line up here in order of closest relation.”

Broadsea pulls a large bottle of liquor from a hidden pocket in his coat and takes a large drink. He wakes Eefa up to offer her some.

It’s the same every year. Eefa will stay in her rooms and avoid other people at all costs, Broadsea will be drunk or high or both, Proteus will be charming and ass-kissing Capitol citizens whenever possible, and Mags and I will try to keep a pair of children alive for as long as possible.

But I've already watched eight children die in pain and fear. Why should this year be any different?

[dausy]

I have a busy next week coming up. If I don't get fired monday or quit my job on the spot I plan to work all week but I have to leave work early on thursday which will totally screw over my coworkers and then at that point make my boss mad at me and then possibly fire me for that reason. But holy run-on sentence batman, I shouldn't be going into work at all, I have the day off and it is a nicety that I am coming in to take the abuse so they should be thankful for me going in for the time I am.

Thursday, I'm off to get my hair did and then running home to change into a ballgown and pretend I know how to do make up and then we are off the the ball. Literally. Have a ball that night. Should be fun. Immediately the next morning we are waking up early, dropping the dog off at the boarders and then driving to Arizona. My SiL is graduating college and her college kind of screwed up the graduation date and now like..nobody can make it..so we are going to be extra nice family members and drive 8 hours there and then 8 hours back. I have actually done this before for my youngest sisters high school graduation. It does get harder to do the older I get though.

This weekend I don't think we are doing much of anything. I did the teeniest bit of art but I feel like I'm so tired, just sitting up I feel drunk and drowsy and I just want to sleep. Tomorrow I think we are going to a farmers market. I really wanted to go to another National Park but we are already boarding our dog a lot...

Yesterday was busy too. I went in and had my very first ever MRI. I'm fine. I've been a chronic head-ache sufferer my entire life and my doctor said "have you ever had imaging?" and I said "no" and she's like "well lets just get imagine" so we did. It only got rescheduled multiple times though. It wasn't bad. I did get stuck twice for an IV..I was trying not to judge skills and all...but I could have did it better. I was really dehydrated though. I know everybody says that (because they do) but they did tell me no food or drink after midnight and I wonder if they did that on purpose to see if it would give me a headache and it did. The MRI itself was fine, throw in a couple massages and I would have been asleep. By the time I could out of the test which took an entire hour, by eyes were super red and swollen. Just from being drowsy, hungry and thirsty. We got korean chipotle immediately after and I got coffee and I got the migraine from hell. I had to go home and sit in the bath for a long time. I did eventually start to feel better in the evening after taking all the drugs in my medicine cabinet because I was pretty determined I wanted to see the Lt Dan Band play. Gary Sinese was playing a free concert in the park next to my house. We went and watched for a while. I got food truck sushi served to me by what looked like a 10 year old. It was pretty good. But now I can say I've seen Gary Sinese and I got a tshirt. The sucky part was the weather was extremely windy. I don't understand why military bases cant be in places with decent weather.

[alba8688]

Chapter 7

Word count :2393

Warning ⚠️ mentions of alcohol ,vomit if I kiss. Anything let me know thank you 🙏

The first day of Spring break starts today and I have nothing planned for the whole week other than to stay home watch movies,get drunk and cry while drinking and Eddie is probably going to be making fun of me the whole time and probably make have something to say about the movie choice I had for the day .

Talking about Eddie, where is he?

Haven't seen him since this morning. I woke up to him watching me sleep then he disappeared when he saw that i open my eyes .He was laying next to me and as soon as he saw that I saw him he dispersed into thin air .

To be honest I didn't find it creepy at all .

I know I should but the poor guy has nothing to do and he can't sleep. I would have done the same thing if I was a ghost in a coma .

I wonder how Eddie does that ?

Being in a coma then being a ghost is so confusing or maybe I'm just seeing things that aren’t really there and Eddie is just a figment of my imagination.

Or maybe I'm crying thinking I'm talking to a metalhead, a really hot metalhead.

But I mean I see him. I talk about myself. He tells me about himself .How could I be crazy and actually finding out everything he tells me its truth.Aaaahh I'm getting a migraine just thinking about it .

Maybe I just imagined everything .

I can’t deal with this right now. I need to take some pills for this awful headache .

I head over to the kitchen to take some tylenol and like i have nothing to do

Today or tomorrow or the next .Wow, I have a boring life . I might as well do laundry and change the sheets from my bed and clean the apartment now that i have time and maybe order some chinese later,

Uuuu chicken fried rice and some jalapeno chicken yup that's what i'll order and maybe some sushi and two of those triangle sushi looking things.

Before starting cleaning I headed downstairs to grab some breakfast and a coffee then headed back to the apartment to eat my breakfast then clean .

And that's what i did,

i put the laundry in the washer and while it was washing i decided to clean my closet that it had a mess and so i did i ended up putting all my clothes by color like black with black pink with pink dresses with dresses you get the idea of what i did and when i was done I started on the living room to sweep and mop but first i connected my phone to my bluetooth speaker i mean you need music while cleaning if not it gets boring.i put it on shuffle and started sweeping the apartment then after awhile i stopped to get myself a drink a drink meaning a bottle of wine i had on my fridge cold waiting for me to drink it.

I grabbed a glass from the top cabinet and poured myself some wine and chugged it. It was so cold just how I like it and one thing led to another. I was halfway down the bottle and still haven't mopped at all. Now here I was sitting down on the couch with the bottle in one hand taking small sips while I listened to music .

I stood up and went upstairs to my room to grab a scrunchie to put my hair up in a bun then stop when I saw a picture of Eddie I had found while cleaning the back of the closet .

He was wearing a black dio shirt. He must have been younger in that picture around 19 was my guess.

I took the picture and a piece of tape and tape it in my squishmallow i dont know what the fuck i was doing i was too drunk to function properly right now.

But i think i just tape a picture of Eddie in my damn stuffed animal that i hug at night and sometimes use it as a pillow.

And now here I am staring at it and smiling like a damn fool.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I grabbed my squismallow, hugged it tight and Now I was heading downstairs to the living room when the song changed..

play"CHERRY" LANA DEL REY

Cherry by LANA DEL REY started playing and it hit me right in my heart.I walked over to the kitchen where i had left the bottle of wine and I chugged the last of the wine.

"Do you like that song ?"I asked the stuffed animal with Eddie's picture tape to it.

"Come on sweetheart i just like metal music you should know that."i did a terrible impersonation of Eddie and that made me giggle a lot because i know eddie would say something like that.

Yeah, I was drunk.

I placed the squishmallow in the sofa gently as if it was really Eddie and

started swaying my body to the music and singing to the lyrics of lana .

I glanced at my squishmallow and smiled.

"Dance with me Eddie."I slurred and took the poor squishmallow in my arms and started dancing with it like a crazy person .

"Sweetheart you're such a good dancer." I once again did a really bad impersonation of Eddie making me giggle.

I'm sorry but I drank a whole bottle of wine so now I was singing to the plushie with the picture of Eddie and crying to the lyrics .I was on that stage of my drunk self where I got sentimental.

"" Darlin', darlin', darlin'

I fall to pieces when I'm with you, I fall to pieces

My cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme

And all of my peaches (are ruined)"

I spun around with my plushie squishing it in my chest and now I was crying even more . I don't even know why but I was .

I guess I got in my feelings.

I kept dancing, swaying to the music well. I thought I was dancing but I probably look like a crazy person singing so out of tune and hugging my damn squishmallow that had a picture of Eddie tape to it.

My rose garden dreams, set on fire by fiends

And all my black beaches (are ruined)

My celluloid scenes are torn at the seams

And I fall to pieces (bitch)

I fall to pieces when I'm with you

'Cause I love you so much, I fall to pieces

My cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme

And all of my peaches

When Lana sings "CAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH"i look at my squishmallow with the picture of Eddie and sing to him like if it really was Eddie dancing with me Right now that i was drunk i could honestly say that I had fallen for that metalhead .

Tomorrow I might deny it but right now I won't.

And the next thing I knew was that I was kissing his picture without noticing that Eddie was sitting down on the couch with an amused smile .

"Ok now i see why you keep it in your bed ,Do you guys need some alone time?"I heard him say ,I instantly hid the squishmallow behind my back so Eddie wouldn't see the picture I was kissing .

-"W-when d-did you get here?"I slurred my words. I was trying my damn best not to seem like I was drinking but I don't think I was doing such a great job because

I kept stumbling even though I was standing in place staring at Eddie with wide eyes.

He is going to think I'm a weird person for kissing his picture..I thought to myself.

"Sweetheart, are you drunk?"He stood up from the couch and slowly approached me .My instant reflex was to hide the stuffed animal behind my back,I couldn't let him see it, not today or ever.

"No." I lied and tried to move away from him but I ended up tripping .

"You sure?"he tilted his head to the side and smiled wickedly and the next thing I know he is holding the damn squishmallow and raising it up high on his hand so I wouldn't reach it .

I jumped trying to snatch it from him but I was too drunk and kept stumbling so I just gave up and just sat down flat on the floor with my hands covering my face .I just let it happen

This is the night I die of embarrassment.

RIP Aria Avila.

To my mother I leave my shoes and to my best friend Clarissa Carver I leave all my clothes and makeup.

"Ari?"Eddie's voice gets me out of my head .

"yes."I said softly. I opened my fingers that where covering my eyes to see where Eddie was.

And to my surprise He was sitting down in front of me criss cross looking at me with that stupid smirk .

"There she is ,"he smiles. "Yes , here I am Eddie dying of embarrassment.I couldn't even look at him right now. I felt o stupid and embarrassed. That was the weirdest thing I ever did and he saw it.

"Don't look at me ,"i blushed closing the gap between my fingers

"Hey don't hide from me ,it was cute you dancing around ."he coo,

How was that cute ? i thought to myself

I slowly lowered my hands from my face to face reality.I look at Eddie who had my stuffed animal in his hand but it didn't have the picture the tape was there but not the picture .I stood up fast from the floor looking around frantically for the picture that was just tape on the damn stuffed animal.

"What are you looking for?"Eddie asked standing right next to me,

I didn't answer and got on my knees and started crawling looking under the sofa.

"I mean i don't mind the view sweetheart ."Eddie chuckled and I turned to look at him holding the picture of himself in his hand"where you looking for this?"that asshole had the picture all this time and he didn't tell me while i was looking for it like a crazy person.

"Yes' 'i gulp.i don't know if it was because i was caught kissing a stuffed animal with a picture of the guy i'm crushing on the guy being eddie and he saw everything or the alcohol because my stomach wasn't feeling too good right now.

I felt all the food from the morning coming right back up mixed with the alcohol and that wasn’t a good sign so I ran to the restroom emptying my stomach into the toilet.Jesus Christ how I hate throwing up. I hate it so much. I hate the smell. I hate the way my stomach feels when I'm throwing up. I hate everything about it.

I should have eaten first before drinking all that bottle.

I'm never drinking again.

I don't know if that's true but I'll believe myself for today.

Just for today .

"Here drink."i heard Eddie’s voice from behind me

"Eddie don't look at me i look disgusting."i also smell disgusting.I look disgusting.Drool falling down my lips mix with my vomit .

Jesus, I am in a bad state. I need to get a hold of myself .

I got up slowly, Feeling a little

Bit dizzy maybe not just a little but a lot the whole room was spinning so I close my eyes and walk blindly over to the sink which wasn’t a far distance for.But for me it still felt like I had walk miles I started by washing my mouth in the sink.I open my eyes to take a peak of myself and Eddie was gone,but he had left a bottle of water on the counter. He was getting so much better at picking things up and it scared me.It really scared me so fucking much .

I drank the whole bottle of water and decided to shower hoping I felt so much better.Walking over to the shower was the hardest thing I’ve ever done after failing attempts to walk I crawled over until I reached the glass door and open it enough so I could go in.I reach over to turn on the water making sure it was the right temperature.I don’t know how I did it had my eyes close doing everything blindly I took of my clothes tossing it out.i got up slowly to fix the water temperature but failed miserably and somehow the water started getting to a warm temperature that wasn’t too hot nor to cold and I know who might have done that but my head was spinning so much to open my eyes .

“Thank you Eddie .” I said softly

“I’ll be waiting for you outside Ari .” Was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep on the floor of the shower .

I don’t know how long I’ve been sleeping in the shower floor but I was rudely awoken By Eddie screaming in my ear .

“Eddie .” I whisper I open one eye to see him standing over me trying his best to pick me up .

“I’m sorry I swear I didn’t want to see but you took a long time and I came to check on you and you were on the floor .” I heard him say but I was too drunk to care right now that I was naked curled up in a ball on the shower floor .

Somehow I managed to get out of the shower and dried myself up and wrapped the towel around my body and headed upstairs to sleep.My eyes where Half open but I knew Eddie was following making sure I was ok .When I reached upstairs I took off my towel tossing it to the ground I had totally about Eddie being on back of me until I heard him gasp "Jesus Christ!!" right now i didn't care. I had a massive headache and I know tomorrow I’m going to regret it so i got in my bed completely naked and got under the covers closing my eyes .

“Goodnight Eddie .” I remember saying

"You're gonna be the death of me."I heard Eddie say before drifting to sleep....

Next chapter

[surrealinkrpstories]

FuckinLucid And FuckinSway

Aleva:  I sigh as I start to rouse from the most restful sleep I’ve had in a while. Despite the sleep being all well and good, my muscles ache and I seem to be developing a headache. I moan to myself, wondering what time it is. I should be okay to rest a little longer. I only usually stay sleeping for a couple of hours at the most. Wouldn’t it be great if I could just keep a coffee maker next to my bed. I chuckle to myself and stretch a little. My leg coming into contact with something. Huh…

Julian:  The fingers of sleep are beginning to loosen its hold and I become aware of a throbbing in my head. I shift in my slumber to throw my arm around my pillow, what seems to be a nice, warm, soft pillow. Wait, pillows aren’t supposed to be warm like this. My eyes flutter as I try to wake up and open them.

Aleva:  A man’s arm is flung over me and it takes me a moment to register the tattooed arm of Julian. ARGHHHHHHHH I yell and jump out of what I presumed to be my bed. It’s not my bed. It’s his! Oh my god! I look down. I’M NAKED! I make a grab for the sheet.

Julian:  My eyes fly open at the sound of Aleva’s voice, staring at her standing there, naked, before she makes a grab for the sheet. I quickly grab a corner of it to cover my junk as I am naked too. My fogged brain questions why I’m naked for a split second before the obvious conclusion dawns on me. What the fuck!

Aleva:  Stumbling as I’m pulled back towards the bed with the sheet. I scowl atJulian. Did you drug me? Creep! I’m sooooo gonna kick your arse!!! Frowning. When I’m dressed that is. Care to explain how I ended up in your bed?

Julian:  I’m just as shocked as Aleva is. Why on god’s green earth would I drug you to sleep with you? I’m trying to think, remember last night, silent for a moment before speaking. I suspect that I was drunk. My head is beginning to throb harder. Do you remember anything?

Aleva:  I blink for a moment as I think back to the night before. Drinking, dancing, kissing… Um… I cough as the image of sweaty nakedness burns into the forefront of my mind. I shake my head vigorously. Nope. Nothing. You?

Julian:  I vaguely remember the bar… warm, responsive flesh under my hands… I don’t remember jack-shit.

Aleva:  Ah-ha! I point a finger towards Julian. I remember you wanted me to call you by your name! Jack…. Right? I nod my head.

Julian:  You were calling out JACK? I feel a bit offended at this, arching a brow.You know damn well my name is Julian. You must have loved it though if you were calling out my name. I smirk.

Aleva:  Loved what exactly? Are you saying we… did it? I gasp. Did you at least wrap it? Must have been “some” night for me not to recall a single thing! I grab a discarded t-shirt of Julian’s from the floor, flinging it on.

Julian:  My boxers are right next to the bed and I quickly step into them. I find a discarded condom wrapper flung on the floor and I hold it up for Aleva to see.Would you like to repeat the experience so you do remember? My smirk gets wider, a wicked gleam in my eye.

Aleva:  I shake my head at Julian in disgust before seeing the clock. Shit, I’m late for work! How did that happen? I slept a whole night and don’t even recall a single dream? Due to the alcohol intake? Thinking of the amount of whiskey and tequila I drank, has my stomach churning and the my head pounding. Can you direct me to your painkillers?

Julian:  Painkillers would be a good idea. I can’t seem to think straight with this headache and the remaining alcohol in my veins. I groan. What the fuck did I do? All this manly fronting is not going to make this situation any better. I drop my gaze from Aleva and scratch the back of my head uncomfortably. Yeah, err, in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I turn away from her to find a shirt.

Aleva:  I pick up my clothes on the way to the bathroom. I want to be away fromhim as quickly as possible. Why didn’t I dream? Or did I dream and just not remember? If so… then why don’t I remember? Did I have my own dreams? Did I slip into Julian’s mind? I shake my head at the thought. That wasn’t possible. Hewould have been suffering nightmares all of last night and he certainly wouldn’t have that ridiculous smirk like a kid on Christmas morning. Once in the bathroom, I quickly start to get washed and dressed, remembering to steal the bottle of painkillers for my headache whilst at work.

Julian:  As soon as she is out of the room I rest my hands in front of me on the dresser, hanging my head and blowing out a breath. The amount of the uncomfortable emotions Aleva was flinging out is almost crawling out of my skin. It only is intensifying my own emotions. The feeling has eased up a little since she had walked out of the room, but she is still in my apartment and those tendrils are still making its way into me. I stand up and scrub a hand over my face, running my fingers through my hair. I need to manipulate her into feeling calmer.

Aleva:  I tie my hair up off my neck. I’m sweating and my palms are clammy. I feel like I’m having a panic attack. Then the strangest thing begins to happen. A wave of calmness from nowhere starts to relax me. It’s foreign. I know it’s not my own emotions. But I can’t explain it and I cling to it. I close my eyes for a moment and try to focus on it, taking a few deep breaths.  When I feel ready, I leave the bathroom. I look around for where I must have dropped my purse, seeing it on the floor near the door. I walk towards it, shouting to Julian at the same time. I used your toothbrush! May want to get a new one!

Julian:  I see Aleva walk out of the bathroom yelling about my toothbrush. I sigh and walk to the bathroom. My eyes can’t help but fly to the toothbrushes on the sink. I notice the one that is still dripping water. I can’t help but laugh. She didn’t use my toothbrush, Aleva used Belle’s.

Aleva:  I don’t know what to do. This is the place I’m temporarily supposed to be staying at. But everything is different now.  I’m not even sure if I’m welcome anymore. I can’t really think of anywhere else to go. Perhaps Vane can recommend somewhere. It would be nice to see him without being knocked out or passing out. I make it my plan to pop by Vane’s place soon and say hey. For now though, I have to get to work. And figure out what happened. I’m not even shaking anymore. Could Julian be the one to thank for that? I slip the handle of my bag over my shoulder as I wander back to the open bathroom door. He is standing in there and I clear my throat to get his attention.

Julian:  I look over to Aleva. It’s much easier now to be around her since her emotions have calmed, not that the awkwardness has completely disappeared. I can barely look her in the eyes, regret flooding through me and I hold the feeling back from leaking all over the place and affecting her. Yes, Aleva?

Aleva:  I shift from foot to foot, not looking Julian in the eyes. I just wanted to say thank you for the dance… and I’ll see you around  sometime. Maybe. I don’t givehim a chance to reply as I walk away. Heading to the apartment exit as quickly as possible.

Julian:  I have no clue what to say and I just watch Aleva walk away. Part of me wants to make sure she is okay and the other part just wants to avoid her. How could I be so stupid? My jaw clenches as I walk out of the bathroom to go to the kitchen. I need a cup of coffee… badly.

[lymechallenged]

This was written December 12, 2022

My #lymechallenged brain has been pretty much absent the past couple of days. I have spent much of it in bed. I guess the trip to that neurologist zapped every bit of my energy. It doesn't help that it has been cold and rainy the past two days, today is the third with no sunshine and the forecast is not looking hopeful. I loathe winter! I guess I should just be thankful it is not snowing!! But I still think I need to be laying on a beach on some tropical island with a never ending supply of cocktails brought to me by a gorgeous cabana boy.

Awww, but it is not to be. So I am here at home, in Arkansas, freezing my caboose off, wondering if I will have the strength and endurance to at least get out of the chair or the bed for a while today. This disease/illness (and this crappy weather) have me in a funk. As if you couldn't tell. But, I am going to try to push on and get back to telling you the first years of my journey with Lyme. Yes, I am going to have to go back to the other post and see where I got to. Don't judge me.

Yes, here we go. I was saying that I had been told I was positive for Lyme disease and was very slowly starting to feel better. I had not picked a tick off of myself in well over a year, so I was going to start researching Lyme disease. Little did I know that I would still be researching 10 years later. So back in 2012 when I started looking into Lyme, mind you I was still pretty sick. My brain was constantly in a fog and I would have to try and fight through it if I wanted to retain even a paragraph of anything I read. I took LOTS of notes. I printed and saved thousands of pages, I filled up notebooks. One drawer in my file cabinet is nothing but notes, articles, studies, etc. on Lyme and others (from here on out "the others" will be in reference to co-infections and other tick-borne illnesses). Another drawer is dedicated to my personal medical records over the past 10 years. One small four shelf book case is full of books written about Lyme and others. Books by Dr. Rawls, Kris Newby, Yolanda Hadid and several others. And the trains have started competing for the same track already this morning.

Let's go back to 2012 again. I am still very weak and fatigued every day and night. It did not matter how much sleep or rest I got, it seemed as if I would never get well enough to go back to college and work. I honestly do not remember going to the grocery store for at least the rest of that year. If I did, I pity the people that saw me. If it weren't such a small town where everyone knew everyone they probably would have thought I was either drunk or high on something. By December of that year, I had made a little progress, not much mind you, but I could at least do some cleaning and could sit in the living room for a little bit without having to lay down. While my daughter was on Christmas break from school, she had a friend stay over one weekend. For reasons I could never fathom, those two decided they needed to go to Wal-Mart. At 3 in the morning. They were both 16 and it's a small town. I knew all the cops. And our Wal-Mart is not a real busy place at 3 in the morning. They would be okay. I let them take my car. It was a 1996 Nissan Sentra and my daughter hated it. But if she wanted to go to Wal-Mart, either her or her friend were going to have to drive it. I saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. My car, that is. We had an agreement. As long as it got me where I needed to go and back home without breaking down, I wouldn't take it to the scrap yard. So she took care of me and I took care of her. This agreement obviously did not stand between my daughter and my car. About 3:30 a.m. my phone rang and I knew it had to be her before I even picked my phone up. I was right. It was her. Her and her friend were having fits because they couldn't get the car to start and there were 3 young guys that had followed them around the store while they were in there and now they were walking towards the car. I told her to leave the windows rolled up and the doors locked and lay on the horn. I was calling the cops. I am seriously good friends with the police here. I went to high school with all of them. I had each of their cell phone numbers! I called every one of them and none of them answered their phones. I called the police station and no one answered that phone either!! What the heck? Was the bank being robbed or something? We did not have a 911 dispatcher in our town at that time. If I called 911, it was answered in a town 30 minutes away then they had to call our police station. I had just done that and no one answered and 3 guys are walking up to the car that my daughter and her friend have locked themselves in at 3:30 in the morning so I have no vehicle because they have mine and for some reason it will not start. I am still very weak and have lost muscle mass. I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed and I walked the one mile to Wal-Mart. I was almost dead by the time I got there but I made it by shear will power. The guys had taken off when my daughter started honking the horn. My daughter unlocked the car and got in the back seat. I got in and the car started right up. They both swore up and down that it absolutely would not start for them! Whatever. We are going home and I am going to bed and you two are not to leave this house until I wake up! The things a momma can and will do to protect her child…even when she is two feet away from her death bed!!

Trains going every which way again today so I think I am going to stop for now. Just know that this is an ongoing thing for me. I would love it if everyone sticks around. I promise it won't always be about me.

Until next time,

lymechallenged

Kelly 💚

[jaywhere]

wip, ~3.5k, follow-up to the lil pwp i posted last week, enjoy

—

The doorframe rattles when Logan slams it shut.

With a sigh, he shrugs off his jacket. He makes a half-hearted attempt at hanging it on one of the hooks off to the right before giving up and allowing it to slump onto the floor. His feet drag, toes catching clumsily against the transitional swell between his living room’s wood paneling and the kitchenette’s linoleum.

The world is already tolerably fuzzy as he slams open the cabinet door. Logan closes his eyes against the sound of one of his neighbors showering and crickets chirping in the distance. He pulls out a half-empty bottle of whiskey, pops out the cork, and tilts his head back to take a few slow glugs. The alcohol slides down his throat, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The thunk of glass against the lacquered countertop echoes.

Today had not been a good day. The last few days hadn’t been good, really — although Logan’s not sure he’s ever had a good day. But the last few had been worse than usual. The kind of days that suck you dry, leave you nothing but a husk of a man at the end of ‘em. Logan glancces down at the bottle in his hand, wondering if he should down the whole thing now.

He squints. It looks significantly more full than he remembers.

It isn’t until the bathroom door swings open to release a cavalcade of barefoot footfalls and a cloud of hot steam, that Logan realizes it hadn’t been one of his neighbors showering.

“Logan Wolverine,” Wade Wilson announces, leveling an accusatory loofah brush towards him, “it’s time to resume our eternal battle.”

Drunk, Logan stares. The cloud of steam clears to reveal an expanse of marred skin interrupted only by the bright red kevlar of the Deadpool mask. A long beat passes wherein Logan stares directly at Wade’s bare cock dangling goofily between his legs before he jerks his head to the side.

“God damn, man, put some clothes on!” Logan turns, back to Wade. “And what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before, lover.” The only warning Logan gets before a hot, wet body is pressed against his back is the damp slap of wet feet on linoleum. By reflex, he turns and shoves three ragged claws directly into Wade’s stomach. “Oh, should’ve expected that. Gonna take a second to get over that one.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Logan stares down at him, spread-eagled in the kitchenette with thin streams of blood puddling on the floor. “You are wet and naked. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Well,” Wade responds. Completely shameless, he doesn’t even make an attempt to cover himself. Logan grinds his teeth and turns his back once again. “Considering that you just stabbed me. No! And besides, I have a job for you. Since you’re obviously done with your last one.”

Logan tips back the bottle of whiskey into his mouth. A few drops escape from the corner of his lips, which he doesn’t bother to wipe away. “What?”

“It’s something silly. A B-plot. Hijinks, if you will. The type suitable for some sort of one-shot. Maybe a two-shot if we get frisky.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Logan stares out the window above the sink. The foggy, smudged surface prevents him from seeing much other than the glaring approach of oncoming cars down the highway.

“I’m talking about an adventure! Work for the good of the universe! The two amigos at it again to save the world — or at least a very specific suburb of Milwaukee — “

“Yeah, I don’t actually do that anymore.” He takes another swig. Bottle’s halfway empty.

“Okay. Well, if I am being honest, I did accept a payment for this one. About a milli, but if you play nice, I would be willing to split it between the two of us.”

Another drink. A car roars down the highway, lights blazing. A fly buzzes above, imprisoned against the glare of the LEDs.

“No.”

“Okay, fine.” Wade’s exasperated tone shatters the melancholy mood. Logan wishes he would give up and leave already. Wishful thinking, he supposes. Not even educated. “It was two milli.”

“No.”

Logan slides the whiskey back into the cabinet. Wade mutters something he doesn’t bother to listen to. Rather, Logan steps over Wade’s naked, wet, healing body, opens the fridge, and pulls out a mostly-intact six pack. With a sigh, he walks into the living room, collapses onto the couch, and turns of the TV.

“Fine!” Wade shouts from the floor of the kitchenette. “It was five milli, but if you’re actually going to take half of that, I expect a blowjob for my finder’s fee, mister!”

Logan doesn’t respond. Nothing good on at 3 AM. He should be asleep. No way he’s going to do so with Wade Wilson loose in his place. He’s too tired, drunk, and miserable to do anything meaningful about him right now. He pops open one of the beers. On screen, a lion eviscerates a zebra while the narrator drones calmly on.

Damp footfalls on carpet. Wade stands just inside of Logan’s line of sight. He isn’t bleeding any more. “Oh no, I’m bleeding all over your carpet! Whatever are you going to do!”

Logan ignores him. The lion is rooting through the zebra’s guts now.

“Come on, I know you can’t be that busy. You’ve been gone for four whole days.”

Logan’s brow furrows. His head snaps in Wade’s direction. “You’ve been in my house for four days.”

“This, Logan, is an apartment. And yeah, where do you think all those dirty dishes came from?” Wade gestures vaguely towards the kitchen. Logan hadn’t even noticed. “Also, you probably want to change your sheets. And don’t look in your second dresser drawer, please, unless you’re like, way more into me than I think.”

“Okay.” Logan sets down his beer, looking Wade dead in the eye. Very intentionally, he does not glance down to where Wade’s cock is still flopping pathetically about between his legs. “I’m being serious. I need you to get out now.”

“Ooh, it’s serious time, alright.” He bends his knees, turns to the side, and arches his back so his ass sticks out. “And what happens if I don’t?”

Logan stands up. He can’t fucking deal with this right now. He grabs his coat, stumbling over to the door. He squints against a blast of cold air.

“Come on, Logan.” Wade attempts to dramatically slam the door shut. Logan rips it right back open and steps outside. “I can’t be so repugnant you don’t want to work with me even just a tiny little bit — “

“No, you are,” Logan says, just before slamming the door in Wade’s face.

There are a few blessed moments of silence as Logan walks up the half-set of stairs leading to the parking lot. His shoulders tense when he hears his door creak open again.

“Even though I’m offering you two and a half million? This place is dingy as fuck, the X-men cannot be paying you that much.”

The door slams closed behind Wade. Logan keeps his gaze fixed ahead. He doesn’t speak until he senses Wade right behind him. “Pretty sure the X-Men don’t get paid, bub.”

“What the fuck, good ol’ Chuck — who is definitely alive by the way, don’t you even worry your sweet little heads about it — doesn’t even pay you.” Logan keeps walking forward, desperately hoping that the crunch of gravel beneath his boots will eventually drown Wade out. “That’s inhumane. Even the Avengers get paid. What the hell else is he doing with that seemingly infinite pool of money? Also, what do you mean you’re pretty sure? You are working with the X-Men, aren’t you.”

Logan takes a deep breath. Without a word, he continues walking forward.

Wade gasps. They cross into the street now, beginning to walk down the empty road. Logan’s car isn’t even here. He'd left it at the bar.

“Oh my god, you’re not. What the hell have you been doing for the last year then, man?”

“Didn’t I very specifically say that we would not be seeing each other around?”

“Yes, but then you waddled that cute little ass directly into my apartment, and held my dog, and made friends with my friends and your not-daughter, all strongly implying to the audience that we were going to live happily ever after in homoerotic bliss!” 

The sound of skin smacking against skin echoes from behind Logan. Perhaps Wade smacking himself in the face. “I thought you were the reason they rejected me again, good ‘ol Logan wants nothing to do with Wade anymore for completely inscrutable reasons, but — “

Logan’s brow furrows. “They rejected you — ?”

The sentence dies a swift death to a cocktail of rage and embarrassment as he turns and realizes that Wade is still buck naked.

“ — sunuvabitch, put some damn clothes on!”

The emotionless white pits of the Deadpool mask stare back at Logan. “I will if you come back to your sad wolf boy apartment with me.”

Logan scowls. “No.”

Wade crosses his arms and waggles his hips. “I’m the one wearing the mask here. I have nothing to lose. You live here. And you have neighbors you care about. Apparently.” 

Logan turns his head, gritting his teeth against the feeling of complete mortification. With a grunt, he clips Wade’s shoulder as he passes him on the way back to his apartment.

“There’s my peanut, always happy to see me!”

Logan throws his jacket onto the floor as soon as he re-enters his apartment. Wilson is such a fucking nut-case.

— 

“Are you sure you don’t want to get down nasty style? If it’s just about the carpet, we can lay down a tarp or something. Or we can do it in the bathroom. Always keeps the ugly bumping tidy no matter the bodily fluids involved — I highly recommend it.”

Exhausted, Logan blinks very slowly as he stares at the TV. He sucks down another half a beer before responding. “Don’t you have a girl?”

“If by a girl,” Wade calls out from the bedroom, “you mean my fabulous new therapist Lisa, then yes. She is so dumb. Knows nothing about the horrific depths of the human spirit. Never been tortured, Logan, can you believe that? Not even once. She’s incredible. She has me using this new morality app — “

Logan shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean a girlfriend, wife situation.”

“Not anymore!”

Wade arrives in Logan’s field of vision wearing a pair of jeans which come to an abrupt end at his mid-shin. A white t-shirt is tucked into Wade’s belt, dangling pouches failing to disguise how comically large the waistband is on him. Strips of discolored skin are visible on his arms and legs. He’s still wearing the mask. He makes jazz hands.

“You look stupid.”

“You, too!” Wade points an accusatory finger at Logan. “Oh, who am I kidding? You pull it off. Why was I cursed with this glorious, mutilated twink body?”

With a huff, Wade collapses onto the couch. He places a hand on Logan’s thigh, which Logan quickly removes.

“Sorry about your girl.” Wade’s hand continues to sit placidly on the couch. Logan takes another swig of his beer.

“It’s fine.”

On screen, a family of gerbils scurry out of their burrow in the middle of a flood. The narrator dully reports that, in these conditions, the little beasts make easy prey for opportunistic predators.

“Actually, it’s not fine. You know, the really fucked-up thing is that — according to her, at least — it wasn’t the loser-era stuff, or the putting her in constant danger, or the severe mental health problems. Sometimes, things just don’t work out.” Wade turns away from Logan and stares into the middle distance. “And that, dear, readers, is a weak plotline, but it’s also real life. We all know you just want to see his one-eyed snake disappear into my wet cave and you’ll take any excuse you can get. Fuck!”

Wade throws his head onto the back of the couch.

“It may also just have been the severe mental health problems,” he admits. “She was really nice. Probably wouldn’t have said that if it were true.”

Logan drink again. One of the gerbils gets snapped up by a hawk in slow motion. “She would have,” he says. “She would’ve just said it nice.”

Wade sighs. “Yeah.”

Wordlessly, Logan hands him a beer.

“You know, I’m not supposed to drink on my medication. But this is probably enough of a special occasion.” Logan’s not sure whether it’s a joke. He’d never known Wade — any iteration — to be particularly stable. In fairness, Logan has never been either.

When Wade takes the bottle, Logan pops the top off with one partially extended claw. Wade scoffs and takes a sad, quiet drink. Out of juice. Silence encroaches.

“So,” Logan starts. “You’re back on your merc shit, huh?”

“Kinda.” Wade slouches into the crevices of the couch. For a moment, he looks pathetically small. “I’m trying to incorporate my burgeoning moral compass into my work now. Man’s gotta eat.”

“Five million dollars ain’t grocery money.”

When Wade sits up, it’s like a switch flips on in his brain. “In this economy? You’d be lucky to get a loaf of bread for 50K!”

Logan ignores him. He finishes off his beer, then sets the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“So does this mean you’re gonna help me? Or fuck me? I was hoping for both but at this point I’d take either.” He leans closer, staring out at Logan from behind his mask.

Logan sighs. “I said I’m not doing that shit.”

“Logan.” Wade’s voice is deadly serious. “My bowels are clear. But if you’re really that worried about it, I can give myself an enema first.”

Logan reaches over and takes the beer back. Wade doesn’t flinch.

“Hey, come on. You literally save the multiverse, heroically switch timelines, sidestep the life-ruining consequences of your actions. You get to live in a world where you’re a hero, and not one where all of your friends are dead. That is literally once-in-thousands-of-lifetimes kind of luck. And you’re gonna use that ridiculous stroke of luck to sit on the couch all day?”

Shouldn’t be surprising. Logan was already familiar with Wade’s personal definition of heroism. With jaw tight, Logan keeps his gaze fixed forward. His grip tightens around Wade’s beer. Fingers twitching, he downs a third of it.

“I’m honestly shocked the TVA didn’t make you go home off-screen, just for continuity’s sake. I guess they want you to be in more — “

“In case you didn’t catch that,” Logan says, glaring at Wade out of the corner of his eye, “that was an invitation to leave.”

“But you did give me the beer. Invitation extended. And I bet if I ignore your grumpy mug and stay a little bit longer, I can get you to do it again!”

Logan doesn’t respond. He’s lost track of how much he’s had to drink. The whiskey from before is just now starting to hit him, thoughts growing sluggish, warmth crawling through his limbs. He downs the rest of Wade’s beer and cracks open another.

“For real, man.” Wade leans closer, squinting. “Why are you not chilling with the X-Men. They’re all alive here. Or, like, mostly. Probably.” His head turns, glancing around the room chaotically. “Those timelines were always really hard to follow. And our whole thing just didn’t make any sense at all, so it’s probably way easier to just show up and find out who’s alive, but like, it’s definitely most of them. I saw Kurt last week. Blue. Tail. All that fun stuff. You two are supposed to be buds.”

A black hole opens up in the pit of Logan’s stomach.

“You like reality TV, right? That seems like your kind of trash.” Logan flips through the channels. The warmth that radiates off of Wade as he leans in closer is probably Logan’s imagination.

“Logan.” Wade whispers. “Answer the question.”

Teeth grit, Logan hisses, “Or else what?”

“Or else.” Logan rolls his eyes when he feels the cool barrel of a gun press against his temple. He continues flipping through the channels. “We will have to continue our eternal — oh, Love Island, I love this shit.” Logan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You know, the US version is so bland in comparison to the UK one — wait a second, you’re trying to distract me!”

With a sigh, Logan leans his head back on the couch. His thoughts are becoming delightfully fuzzy, now. He plays the game. “You ever get that ADHD testing done?”

Wade narrows his eyes. “No.”

If Wade had come here to commiserate — to play games — Logan can be fine with that. A few hours ago he’d lifted his cheek off of the bar with red in his mind’s eye. Her hair, her fire, her blood. The last few months had been lonely.

An unnatural silence fills the room when Logan closes his eyes. Wade moves, silent and fast. Thighs bracketing Logan’s, erratically-textured palms cradling his cheeks. Chest tight like he’d been strangled. Logan’s knuckles are pressed to Wade’s ribs, all reflex.

“Get off me.” The vision of his blades slicing through Wade’s soft stomach is clear in his mind’s eye.

“Logan.” Wade’s fingers on his cheek are patronizing. “My bro. My good boy. My homie. My personal hero. That would ruin your couch.”

Wade’s body going slack in Logan’s arms. Manic twinkles of laughter in his ear. Spilled blood sucked up by denim and upholstery. Logan grits his teeth. Silence ticks on.

“Which you care about, because you’re broke, because you’re not fucking around with Chuck — who definitely pays people, by the way.” Wade’s voice is loud and annoying. “So come help me, Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.”

The sharp snikt of Logan’s claws slicing through his own skin occurs not half a second after Wade rolls off of him.

“For the last fucking time,” Logan growls. He can feel his own throat rumble, his self-control slipping as the alcohol suffuses his cells. “No.”

Wade crouches in the middle of Logan’s living room, ready to pounce. The upturned corners of his lips are visible even beneath the mask. “It’s not even a hit job. More of a rescue, really. And it’s delightfully silly. And afterwards we can do a little horizontal — “

Logan scowls. “Stop.”

His muscles are heavy, drawing him further back into the couch. He shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Wilson is a clown, but he’s not incompetent. Logan’s heart races against an impending sense of danger.

All at once, Wade collapses onto his ass. He pulls out his phone, gaze fixed on the screen. Logan couldn’t relax if he wanted to.

“Okay, I hear that you’re setting a boundary. Lisa’s been telling me a lot about those. So I’m willing to stop talking about sex. If you come with me.”

“And yet you apparently didn’t hear me when I told you to leave.”

Logan leans forward. Moonlight stretches down the length of his claws in reflection.

“Come on, Logan, we all know you weren’t being serious then.” Wade flaps his wrist dismissively. He’d probably still be cracking jokes if Logan were to snap it. “Which is definitely how it works. And you can’t say otherwise because you don’t even go to therapy.”

Logan says nothing. Wade stares at him, as if waiting for a response.

“If you did, your therapist would definitely tell you that you should come with me. And also that you should probably go hit up your good ol’ bubs the — “

“No.”

Logan stands. His patience is running out. He’s wobbly, unsteady. Wade’s fast. A bloodthirsty cacophony clamors in the back of his mind. Two kicks would leave Wade’s brains splattered across a broken television screen, a left hook could snap his neck on the edge of the coffee table, triplet blades rending flesh from his heart down to his gut leaving him flopping like a fish out of water on the carpet — 

“Fine.” Wade sighs. He stares down at his phone. Logan itches for violence. “I didn’t want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice.”

The sound of dice rolling fills the apartment. Wade gasps, turning his phone screen to display a mischievous-looking emoji with an angel halo. A beat passes with Logan’s head tilted in utter confusion.

“Chaotic heroic. I love this one. Always so weird.”

Swiftly, he pops open the velcro of one of his pouches. Logan’s eyes go wide as he pulls out a grenade.

“Wade,” Logan says. His voice is tense, pulse thundering in his ears. Wade’s attitude had felt strange — stranger — but he hadn’t anticipated this. “Put that down. This is an apartment building. There are innocent people here.”

With a giggle, Wade stands. He loops one finger through the pull ring, swinging it casually around his finger. “Oh, I know.”

Logan lunges at him. Wade sidesteps easily, laughing as Logan sprawls inelegantly across the floor. His limbs are heavy, the air baring down on him as he pushes himself up.

“I don’t know what kinda psycho fuckin’ meltdown you’re having because your girl dumped you, Wilson, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you — “

A hand held over his heart. “Wow. Last-named. The hurt. How would you feel if I called you — wait, what is your last name?”

“I’m not gonna let you kill a bunch of people for no goddamn reason.”

A swipe, dodged. Wade’s pressed flat against his front door. Logan throws his fist, embedding his claws in the wood instead of Wade’s skull. He screams as he yanks them out.

“Wow, Logan. It’s only been six months and you’ve gotten so slow! Or is it the alcohol?”

One last shot. Logan goes for his gut, but Wade’s too fast. He’s across the room before Logan’s halfway through the swing.

There’s no fanfare when he decided to stop playing games.

“Relax,” he calls from across the room. Logan watches in horror as he pulls the pin, tossing the grenade live across the living room. “This’ll only take a second.”

[personasintro]

bruhhhhh what about a drabble in which y/n is a little TOO drunk and jimin and tae cant handle her after they brought her back to her apartment so jk the mf king comes to beat her ass 🥊🥊🥊 ( and he is like able to shush her and shes intimidated by him ) 😏✨🤭

A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

word count: 1.9k+

a/n: I hope you’re enjoying these!! please let me know what you think about it and if I should write more of them x

##

You’re not the one to usually get fucked up.

With friends like Taehyung and Jimin, you’re usually the one looking after them and calling them a cab so they get home safely. They’re the wild ones that love to party, talk to other women and spend the night making out with them, if not inviting them to their apartments for a casual hook-up.

So, when the time comes and you tell yourself to “fuck it” because you’ve to loosen up and release all the tension from your new job and the responsibility that comes with it, you’re the one that needs to be taken care of.

However, even though you’ve planned to drink a little more tonight than you usually do, you haven’t planned to get fucked up at one of those nights where Taehyung insisted on going to a club. Again.

To be honest, you’re not sure what he likes about clubbing that much. You don’t like it but you go, because it’s always fun with your friends. But there are other factors that make you literally go “nooo” when someone proposes to go clubbing. Like all the people, sweaty people, that don’t know anything about personal space. Some of them probably carry perfumes, most of them being women because you could always smell the mix of different perfumes whenever you’d enter the restroom. It’s not a nice smell though. It makes you vomit and especially when you’ve had enough.

Not mentioning all the intrusive guys who are drunk and just looking for a vagina they could fuck.

It sounds as if you’re going clubbing often, but you’re not. If it weren’t for your friends, you’d barely go clubbing because you’re not the type to want that on your own. It’s not usually your idea to go, if ever. But everything seems fun with your friends and honestly, you feel comfortable enough to go with them.

Friends, who probably find you very difficult and annoying at the moment as they’re trying to make you sit on the small bench in your corridor.

“I hate clubbing,” you mutter drunkenly at them, laughing when Taehyung gets on his knees in front of you and tries to grab your ankles to take off your heels.

“We know, you tell us that every time you get wasted.” Taehyung mutters, ignoring the way your mouth falls open in disbelief.

“Taehyungie,” Jimin scolds him, getting on his knees as well to help Taehyung who seems to have trouble with taking off your heels.

Giggling through the entire time, you’re suddenly reminded of something when you look at the two men in front of you, seeing nothing but the top of their heads. “I got two men on their knees.”

Taehyung looks up, cocking his brow at you and finding you extremely annoying as you’re laughing to the point your shoulders shake. Jimin chuckles, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder as he breaks out a grin before they finally get your heels off.

“Kook, we’re taking her to the bedroom!” Jimin calls out to Jungkook who must be somewhere in your apartment. You can’t remember where he went.

“Oooh, sounds… exciting boys!” you joke, your voice resounding in your apartment.

Jungkook chuckles at that, currently in your kitchen preparing you a glass of water and pulling out painkillers from one of the cabinets. You’ll need it for sure. There’s a lot of commotion coming out of your room, something about taking off your make-up which makes Taehyung groan loudly. Jungkook doesn’t fight off the amused grin, only because now Taehyung finally understands how annoying he’s being when he’s drunk. Or at least he hopes he understands.

Jungkook pulls a coke out of your fridge and pours some for himself and for the guys, knowing they’ll have to wait until you fall asleep so they can go. Honestly, Jungkook wonders if one of them should spend the night just in case you get sick. Which you probably will because he hasn’t seen you this drunk in a while. You mentioned something about work when you first entered the club and had your first drink. However, Jungkook wonders if the problem lies somewhere else and that is Heaven. Or whatever his name is.

You’ve been dating for a while and it’s been only over two weeks since you mentioned the relationship isn’t what it used to be. He can smell a break-up in the air and he wonders if you got drunk because it either already happened or you know it will. Maybe he’s just overthinking this. Maybe you just wanted to have fun and get fucked up like Taehyung and Jimin do on a daily basis.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung suddenly yells, the door being opened before they’re loudly shut, Jimin’s soft but loud voice heard for a second.

Jungkook straightens up, ready to make a way over there but before he can move, Taehyung already storms into the kitchen. Face read and annoyed as he looks out of breath, as if he was fighting off a—

“Demon,” Taehyung breathes out, “Y/N is a freaking demon when she’s drunk.”

Jungkook laughs, “She’s just drunk, Tae.”

“Yeah, and she just slapped me for apparently pressing her eyes too harshly when I tried to take off her make-up because she can’t go to sleep without taking it off. God, that woman is a nightmare when she’s drunk!”

“It’s not like you’re a dream when you’re drunk,” Jungkook murmurs, earning a huge glare from Taehyung who keeps his mouth shut because deep down, he knows he’s just as bad.

“Go there! She’s your responsibility right now!” Taehyung exclaims loudly as Jungkook rolls his eyes and puts his body to a move as he brushes past Taehyung.

He barely gets to hold the doorknob before the door is being pushed open again and exhausted Jimin makes eye contact with him. “Great, you’re here!”

Jimin is out of the room and quickly joins Taehyung in the kitchen. Bastards…

Jungkook warily makes it into your room, looking around and barely noticing the flying pillow aimed at him. He catches it at the last minute, frowning at you as you’re standing at the corner of your room next to your closet, still wearing the dress that you wore to the club.

“What was that for?” Jungkook exclaims, watching you drunkenly and messily walk towards your bed before you take another pillow. Before Jungkook knows it, it’s thrown in his direction all over again and he catches it effortlessly and stomps his way over to you.

You’re screaming as if he’s about to kill you, trying to get away from him by jumping onto your bed and getting off the other side.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook asks, trying to get you from the other side but for a drunk person, you’re quick and make it out of your bed while standing in the middle of the room.

Jungkook stands there, watching you with narrow eyes for a moment. You do the same thing, stumbling a little. Jungkook uses the moment of surprise and he rushes over to you, not giving you any time to react and even when you try to, he gets a hold of you.

“What the fuck,” Jungkook groans when you trash in his arms, “Calm down, you need to get to bed. You’re going to hurt yourself, you damn woman.”

“No!” you whine, gasping when Jungkook lifts you up while his arms are wrapped around your waist, tossing you to the bed.

“Stop it,” he scolds you in a warning, pointing his finger at you which makes you slouch your shoulders in defeat. “What’s the matter?”

“I wanna go clubbing!” you pout, slapping your hands beside your sides like a bratty kid which makes Jungkook roll his eyes at your behavior.

He hears Jimin and Taehyung peeking out behind the door, watching the scene in front of them with curious and amused eyes. Jungkook glares at them but they just grin at them, silently telling him “See?”.

“You’re acting like a brat, Y/N,” Jungkook comments, sitting on the edge of your bed as you dramatically gasp. “And you’re drunk. You wanted to go home just a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah?” you ask, holding your head high as you’re fighting off the pout again. “Well, I wanna go back. I changed my mind.”

“You can’t just change your mind,” Jungkook shakes his head, “You’re already home.”

“You’re no fun,” you comment, tossing yourself on the back as you stare at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna be alone here.” you almost whisper, not really sure why you just admitted that all of a sudden.

Just a minute ago you were having fun and wanted nothing but be alone.

“We could stay here…” Jungkook reminds you softly. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Can you? I think I’m gonna throw up once I fall asleep.” you admit, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. You sound so innocent and child-like. If you weren’t wearing that tight dress, he would actually believe you’re a kid for a moment.

“How about you change your clothes and put some pajamas on? We’re gonna set the couch and stay the night.”

“You’re not gonna fit there!” you whine, “Can you stay here with me?”

It wouldn’t be the first time you guys share a bed, but ever since you started dating Haechan there weren’t many opportunities to do that, nor were you looking for those opportunities. You’re not sure how he’d like that and just out of respect, you and Jungkook mutually understood you should tone it down even though nothing ever happens. You’re friends.

“You sure?” he asks, raising his brow. You might be wasted but you can still think logically, which couldn’t be said five minutes ago.

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “Can you rub my back though?”

Jungkook laughs, Jimin and Taehyung join too who are still watching the two of you and how easily Jungkook has handled you. “Deal, but be in bed in your pajamas once I come back. Or no back rubbing.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Y/N!” Jungkook screeches, standing up as he looks at you in annoyance. You’re such a brat, you know he hates being called that and you’re still teasing and annoying him even in your current state.

Taehyung cackles and Jimin joins too, not being able to hold it any longer as Jungkook rushes them out of the door to give you the privacy. Once Jungkook makes it to your room to check on you, you’re patiently waiting for him and his back rubs patting the spot next to you. God, he thought you’d fall asleep.

But he joins you, rubbing your back just like he promised until you fall asleep so he can take a shower. Jimin and Taehyung are already sprawled on your couch, talking a bit before they fall asleep too. And when you wake up in the middle of the night, Jungkook holds the bucket for you until you fall asleep again, silently apologizing.

The next morning, Taehyung doesn’t forget to remind you what a pain in the ass you were which causes Jimin to scold him while Jungkook glares at his older friend. But you easily tell him to fuck off, reminding him all of the times he was the one being annoying and a pain in the ass.

Jungkook doesn’t fight off the grin he gives you. You can take care of yourself, maybe not entirely when you’re wasted but you can easily handle Kim Taehyung.

[raggaraddy]

Hi I just read your oneshot bout jungkook, where she gets drunk and slap him and I was wondering if you could do one where with youngi.

Purpose

A/n: Glad to hear you liked the JK version! Thank you for the request and the long wait during my hiatus xxx 💜💜💜

You can make requests here.

Trigger warning: Smut, oral, facial, imprisonment, violence, abuse, alcohol, binge drinking.

Yoongi Assassin! Yoongi

You are so screwed!

Yoongi had been gone for a few days, and in a rare moment of forethought he actually told you in advance that he was going to be leaving. However, he told you he would be gone for four days. Not three.

Normally, you were a well-behaved prisoner. You never do anything against the rules- not intentionally. You're convinced that you'll get caught, so you just don't risk it. In fact, over the past few months, your behaviour had been so good that Yoongi had steadily begun to fill your room with more and more. By now you have a TV, stereo, games; both board and console, art supplies, toys and so many other little things for you to occupy your time when you're in isolation.

But still, even with so much to distract you, it's hard not to remember that you are locked up and alone. Just once you wanted to do something that would help you forget your cage and turn your brain off.

On hearing that Yoongi was going to be gone for half a week you were eager to take advantage of that knowledge. And the day before he left, when he was distracted in his shed, you snuck a bottle of whiskey from his liquor cabinet. It was an old bottle. One that had been in his liquor cabinet collecting dust since long before you arrived. You were certain he would never miss it because it seemed like he was never going to drink it.

You would just apply the same trick you did to your father's alcohol collection when you were younger. All you need to do is refill the bottle with a strong back tea and seal it back up. This one has a cork stopper and a wax seal, which is child's play. A hot spoon over the wax and he will never know the difference. And by the time he does open it, well if you're still here by then, clearly you have larger issues.

You were organized and ready. You had everything scheduled and planned out to make sure that you would never get caught. The problem is that you were expecting him home tomorrow. Not today. And you have been drinking all afternoon. Worse still, after months of not being allowed to drink your alcohol tolerance is shit.

Which means right now you were hammered.

Hearing the heavy thud of the front door, you kept assuring yourself that it would be okay if only he didn't unlock your door. However, in another rarity, that was the first thing he did. Now you're in a terrible predicament because you know if you don't rush out like you normally do it's going to look suspicious. But if you go out there it's fairly obvious that your drunk.

Your only hope is to sober yourself up, but all you have to help you is a splash of water and some mouth wash. So you will simply have to pray to any deity that will listen that it's enough to help you pass by. And hopefully, he'll stick to his coming-home ritual; showering, eating, and retreating to his office for the remainder of the night.

In the best-case scenario, 30 to 40 minutes from now you should be in the clear. You just need to stay out of his way.

Sitting on the sofa in the living room you are trying hard to make your eyes focus as you stare down at the swirling colours of the TV remote. You were hating yourself so incredibly much right now. Just before you were surprised with Yoongi's early return you were having an internal debate as to whether you should have one more drink, or not. There was only a little remaining in the bottle and in a moment of genius you decided that regaurdless of already feeling super tipsy it would be better to finish the rest, because it would be smarter not to drink at all tomorrow. That way there was no chance of being caught by Yoongi in this exact position. But even though it turned out to be more than a little bit, you still downed it like it was a shot.

And now you feel sick for so many different reasons.

Walking downstairs after having a shower Yoongi's honey blonde hair is still damp and flicked in every direction. You're watching him out of the corner of your eye, trying your best to not make it too obvious. But honestly, at this time you have no measure of how you're behaving. Your eyes are swaying back and forth like you're on the deck of a ship at high sea. Just holding your breath until the moment he shuts himself in his study so you can relax and drink a gallon of water.

Instead though, of going downstairs into the kitchen, in another unprecedented turn of events he comes to the couch and sits next to you.

Somehow forgetting the way you normally sit, move, or even breathe, you are restlessly on the edge of the cushion, feeling gawkish in your own skin.

"Y/n," he calls lowly, holding his hand out for you to take. "Come here,"

Your body feels like it's moving jittery and slower than you're meaning to. Following his instruction you do your best impersonation of a sober person. But even in this state, you're smart enough, or paranoid enough to know that he knows.

"Why?" You hesitate to take his hand.

He smiles knowingly and you realise your mistake right away. You are always too eager for his physical contact and attention, almost needy and desperate for it. Hesitating in any way to his offer of affection? Well if it wasn't already obvious that something was wrong with you, it had taken less than 2 seconds for you to act abnormally.

You overcorrect. Jolting forward you take his hand in yours, staring at him attentively to try to predict what he is thinking and how he is going to react.

"I-" you cough on your own miss-timed inhale, nerves getting the better of you. "I-um. I- did you have a good trip?" You ask, hoping to god you're speaking clearly.

"Do we want to pretend like we don't both know what you've done?" He asks. Smiling wider, the right corner of his mouth lifting.

Clumsily springing up from the seat you snatch your hand back, refusing to believe how truly fucked you are.

"I don't know-I-ah have to go to the toilet." You blurt out, making a persistent effort to escape this situation and the truth.

"Stop." You hear the leather of the couch squeak. Freezing in place, you feel him quickly enter your space. His chest pressing to your back. His chin brushing past your ear. "Do you want me to tell you something you didn't know Y/n?"

Your hands come up to your chest in a defensive brace. Too anxious and inebriated to find the words to reply coherently.

"I put a camera in your room months ago." He whispers.

You feel your stomach drop. A sweat building on your forehead and neck.

Oh god! This is horrible. That means he has seen everything you have done when you thought you were alone.

"I have to say, I was flattered to hear that you call my name when you cum." He hums, his gravelly voice getting deeper in your ear.

Breathing heavily, your face is burning red. Every time you masturbated, all the times you talked to yourself or danced around the room. Every time you acted like a slob or walked around naked or cried to yourself- he saw it all.

You're so embarrassed. You're humiliated. How could he do this to you! Even with all the horrid, cruel, psychological methods of manipulation he puts you through, this is so much worse. He literally removes you from all human contact, but still won't let you have the security of being alone. And worse, he is recording and watching you without your knowledge!

"How could you?!" You spin, snapping at him. "Don't you do enough? Don't you already treat me like fucking shit? How dare you watch me!"

With an egotistical glimmer in his eyes, Yoongi pushes back towards you, removing the space you created. The backs of his fingers lightly tracing down your arm.

"Isn't this usually the point where you, in your predictable attempt to avoid being locked up, get on your knees and beg to make me cum?" His words hit you like an anvil, but it's his arrogant smirk that does the most damage.

He really thinks that you're pathetic. You knew that he thought of you as weak and helpless, but it's worse. He thinks less of you than that!

"Stop being an asshole," you croak. Stuck in this frustrating space where you are too intoxicated to form a smart functioning rebuttal but too aware to ignore how vicious and cruel he is being. "I just wanted to forget I was here. Okay, Yoongi. I wanted to forget you and how much I hate you, and this stupid fucking place!"

"Forget this place?" He scoffs, his breathing starting to deepen. You're far too drunk to notice but there is an air of revulsion to his response. Normally calm and unphased, upon hearing you say that you hate him and this place again, after all this time, you've angered Yoongi more than the lying, stealing, or drinking might have. "How is your life difficult? You have no use, no value other than to entertain me and you can even do that right. The only thing that actually makes you worth anything I can do better with my right hand." He taunts grabbing up your wrist.

You see red. Your reason swallowed up by rage.

How dare he?! It's not like you choose to be here. Or that you enjoy being his prisoner. He forced you into this and still he is mocking you, calling you useless? What an absolute fucking cunt!

You react too fast to rethink your decision. Lifting your loose hand you swing it with full force into Yoongi's face, batting his cheek with the curve of your palm. A sonorous clap bursting through the room before dead silence replaces it.

His head knocks to the side. In opposition to your reckless reaction, his is slow and thoughtful. His nails dig into your wrist, keeping you from retreating even as you squeal and pull away from how he cuts into your skin. His face blankens immediately after the hit, but as he turns back to face you a cold vicious smile curls onto his lips. His head cocking to the side.

You can't proccess what you've done fast enough. In a foul sweep, his hand darts towards you and mats into your fringe. He tears you forward and down, dragging you off your feet, sending you crashing to the floor. Your face inches from colliding with the tiles. Being jerked further your forehead smacks into the ceramic. A heavy stomp, stamping down on a chunk of hair close to the base of your skull. The pressure so firm it's trapping you to the ground.   

Screaming shortly, both of your hands grip into your hair, beating and shoving at his foot and ankle with no give.

"Get off!" You shriek. Tears forming in your waterline.

He twists his heel tearing the hair even more painfully from your scalp, causing you to yelp. "Be quiet. You've already said enough." He growls. Pivoting his foot again for painful emphasis, extinguishing your fight.

For a few moment, he lets his ridicule linger. There is no movement, no noise other than your panting breath. He simply holds you in pain until he is convinced your fight has truely died out.

Once he is, his foot finally comes off. You falling onto your side, gasping in relief, kneading your fingers into your tender head of hair. 

"You want me to prove that I'm right?" Finally, you start to realize how cold Yoongi's tone has become, and how there is an underlying wrath to his voice. "Get on your knees and ask nicely for me to cum down your throat, and I'll forgive you for stealing, I'll forgive you for getting drunk, and I'll forgive you for being a bitch," Your stomach sinks. Your heartbeat is racing. "Or don't, and I'll make sure you don't see the sun for the rest of the year."

Any signs of your resistance, pride, or self-respect disappear. It's been over a year since he threatened you with being locked in the basement, and longer still since you had actually been down there. You knew one thing for certain, more than you knew or understood any other thing; you would do anything- anything at all to avoid being sent down there again.

"Okay," you whisper, holding your hands up in defeat as you roll onto your knees. "I understand. I do. I was so wrong. What I did. What I said. I was wrong." Nothing is connecting well in your brain for you to make a better case for yourself. You have to hope that he doesn't care about your articulation and that he only cares that you show surrender.

Resting your hands on his thighs, bunching into the material of his pants, you're trusting that your sincerity is coming across.

"I'll make you feel good. And everything will be okay."

Nodding eagerly, you tug his pants and boxers down. Not hesitating a moment to lick his cock. He is not yet erect so you guide him onto your tongue with your hand, stroking down and up as you lick along him. His hand shoving the back of your head, pushing you further into him as you work your way down and tongue his balls. Feeling him grow and harden in your palm with each twitch of his shaft.

Lifting higher you finally aim to take him into your mouth, taking a few sharp inhales in expectation. However as your lips touch the head of his dick, Yoongi's large grip once again painfully latches into your hair. Angling you back, he holds you in place with his left hand, his right taking over your actions. Stroking up and down his shaft.

For a moment, you are completely confused. He never stops you. In fact, by this point, he normally would be roughly pushing himself down your throat.

But as you see his smug expression his earlier taunt plays back in your mind.

Smirking, he spits into his palm. The wet sounds as he rubs himself an inch from your face sends a shiver through your ear. Hunching over he's purposefully getting too close, every few strokes smacking himself against your cheek.

After everything you have experienced and everything you know about Yoongi, somehow you are still in disbelief of how disrespectful he is being. And worse still you are heartbroken at the realization that your instinct is to let him do this, to let him do whatever he wants as long as it will keep you from being chained up downstairs.

Yoongi lets out a whispered breathy groan. His cock now smacking your lips on every jerk. His salty precum making them sticky.

With a grunt of pleasure, he holds your head back, keeping you in the right position to take his load. His hot jizz shoots across your nose, making you flinch. Spurt after spurt of his cum floods your face until you are covered in it. Feeling it drip down your cheeks. All while you sit motionless, your fists digging into your legs. Breathing heavily, your mouth is dry. Your eyes tightly clenched shut.

Finally, as he finishes he wipes the head of his cock over your lips. Rubbing the last drops into your mouth. Make sure you still have to taste his cum.

You know you really fucked up, but you can't stand how vicious he is being. He didn't even treat you like a sex object just now. He treated you like something less. And he did it to be intentionally derrisive.

Slowly opening your eyes, Yoongi is staring down at you, admiring his handy work. A satisfied grin on his face. Looking pleased in more ways than one. Bending over he scoops your hand in his and runs your cupped palm up and down his softening dick, wiping the excess cum and spit before throwing your arm away and zipping himself up.

"You're not as useful as my hand," He smirks, cleaning cum from his thumb onto your temple. "but at least you make a decent cum rag."