#i think i'm not using pairing tag again
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@keferon OKAY BUT LISTEN YEAH I would loved if it was just fun ehehehe and sassy flirting with the demon no one sees pfffht, literally summoned a demon just to flirt with, and I guess it could have been going for a long time, just little strips with their funny adventures and then plot can go to the fact that he wants to give him a body and Shockwave would agree or that they just stay the way they are and just hang out like this together (Alo I remember that you wanted to put Ratchet (I keep writing Ratched instead of Ratchet buuuh) and Drift in it as another demon and their summoner thing whghweghgwe but I like how you made two separate stories for them that happen at the same time, okay I am actually PRETTY MUCH invested in this story, I like a lot how it goes and gets tangled and how mixes up with idw ideas and other stuff a lot)
BUT NOW that you changed it that way, you made a few more things that reader might be interested a lot in, like that promise he made and you mentioning that he will regret it, how their relationship progressively develops, plus the fact that Blurr was a frivolous slob gifted with dark magic AND how the tables turn upside dow and he get consequences for what he did in the most unpredictable way for him and how he surely changes in his behaviour, getting more and more concerned about his promise and maybe truly loving someone for the first time in his life and wanting to change something. And then figuring out that that same demon actually was a person before, someone he knew, someone respectable, kind, shiny, absolut sun of a person, who died (I am still on my knees waiting to know how exactly he died...) miserably to the point that he absolutely can't stand his life as a demon and NOT EVEN being able to kill himself!!! And Blurr was a pupil in his school, he saw him, he gifted him an ability to make his magic work for him, gave the freedom to live among everyone to all who was poisoned with this dark magic. OH WAITA HGSDHAG the thing that beastformers can't walk among transformers and the fact that dark spellers also could not, and how these events happen at a close times, OKAY so dark spellers got their kind of freedom thanks to Senator Shockwave (OH MY GOD what if Orion can see Shockwave and will recognise him right away COUGH) BUT I am wondering if beastformers will get some kind of an official declaration or some kind of school to be educated in and I wonder if Deadlock/Drift (I think after leaving he will change his name from the last episode...) will volunteer to be a teacher t be something more, or he will just end up with Ratchet wandering around the world, or maybe there will be a whole damn revolution where all monoformers and beastformers leaded by Drift go against the system, and maybe these events happen at the same time as a Senator Shockwave fighting for the rights of gifted... Okay I'm getting carried a little bit ahsghag excuse me... OH I GOT carried away A LOT I wanted to get back to the point that Blurr, now figuring out the past of Shocwave, dealing with all the events, dealing with what he has done and find a way to free them, at the same time STILL having adventures and fun since I'm sure he can be a good mood lifter to moody Shockwave and even see him in a really good mood since he is... well, not just a demon made of hatred but the wonderful kind of person in his previous life... (okay being carried away but what if Orion might declare the freedom to beastformers (AJHGAJHSDJAH OH MY GOD I IMAGINED JAZZ AS A PANDA HAVING A ROMAN WITH PROWL AND PROWL NOT KNOWING ABOUT IT OKAY SORRY) after seeing what it lead to after Senator Shockwave. And maybe Ratchet will be able to get his sign back freely after revolution will be successful or he will be forever blind just to be free and safe with his husband OKAY LISTEN I think it is obvious that I really like the thing you do....
#I mean I will repeat one hundred more time that fanfics are really hard for me to read... I just can't concentrate on that for a long time#if they are not VERY good.. usually it is much easier for me to read real books#So I know little about characters slowly reading idw and I can't just jump on plenty of fics and just look at them from afar#But such little comic... yeah#the characters in them are understandable for me you put emotion in them and growth that I can easily read on and just observing things#also it is much easier for me to see a ready pictures to jump on something to animate and it goes so smoothly that I still wonder how you d#it and I am absolutely not okay about this fact pfffht#Aaaaah why am I saying all that... where from I started and where I was leading to...#I THINK I JUST WILL SAY AGAIN THAT I LIKE THIS AU WHEEEEEEEZE#Also rewatched your tags under First Aid and... I forgot the name *cough* you can see how good I am with names VORTEZ! Fixed ehfghasghagfe#And yeah ahsghdgahg... I can't read such fics. I like when I see that characters can stand for themselves and it isn't an abuse....#I mean it is okay to show the hell they go through BUT only if from both sides#I didn't read ShockBlurr fics but from what I've been hearing from you both... I wouldn't like it#So I'm happy I come across your version of them and I LIKE IT#And I LIKE the First Aid pair with Vortex if I see a good version of them#I mean in idw he is *muah* put him in a blender but I don't see a good way of using his perks and First Aid's perks good together#They both are maniacs PFFFFHT so yeah... fics disappoint me and I barely read them even if to get better at understanding characters#So I'm happy about what you do since I am very slow at getting into stories like transformers even if I like it
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why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip
#it's ridiculous. this ship is... stupidly clichĂŠ. like if you know fandoms at all#you could easily guess why people would be into it. hello?? have you tried to watch tfa without your hate-on-kyle-ron goggles?#did you watch their scenes together? you don't have to like something to recognize the hints#hell. at the time i didn't really like jonerys but i realized they were going to be a thing when i read agot in 2011#like folks. it's been nearly TEN LONG YEARS. let it go. LET IT FUCKING GOOOO#and for the lucy/cooper shippers out there who think reylos are (again) delusional when they compare the two ships:#no. *you* are being delusional only because you think reylo is unsexy and uncool (which is your right to think btw. obv)#if you can't see why someone would like both of these pairings for similar reasons... idk what to say honestly#people compared it to hannigram... honestly. again i see why they would appeal to anyone who's into both ships#i really do. but... unpopular opinion (since i'm more of a clannibal fan than i could ever be of reylo):#they are more similar to reylo than will/hannibal. there i said it#i'm not talking about the writing (admittedly the quality of it was questionable). i'm talking about tropes#never mind that imo the ghoul is more akin to vader than kylo but whatever#hannibal is an unapologetic kind of villain. he's not gonna have a redemption arc and that's okay#cooper is an antivillain who used to be a good man and became a disfigured cruel bastard. a parody of himself#lucy is him. him before the bombs dropped before he discovered the person he trusted the most wanted to commit genocide#nice. moral. polite. infused with the Good Old American Valuesâ˘. he's basically her dark side#all of this is very hannigram/clannibal. i'm not denying it at all#but what'll likely happen is that lucy's actions will have a positive influence on the ghoul and remind him of what it means to be a man#and that's way more reylo-like. sorry.#beauty&thebeast/villain with some hidden good in him+morally righteous heroine/enemies to lovers etc.#i mean. hello??..... having said that. i'm not so much of a reylo shipper anymore and tbh never was. i really liked it at the time#but i was never fond of the st era. my fav characters are vader and leia and revan from the old eu. just saying#*and* it's also not impossible lucy gets darker with the ghoul as her traveling companion. in fact i wouldn't dislike it at all#if done well i mean#but i would still like for people to be intellectually honest and less puerile. god knows i have my notps#but i really don't give a fuck about the shippers. good for them i guess? i have better taste lmao but that's heavily subjective#val rambles in the tags#val speaks#txt
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What do I have to do to never see graphic novel Taako ever again (/nbh)
#THAT FUCKER MAKES ME SO GODDAMN UNCOMFORTABLE I CAN'T STAND HIS FACE#I HAVE SO MANY TAGS BLOCKED TO TRY TO AVOID HIM BUT I STILL SEE HIM CONSTANTLY#NOT THE FAULT OF ANYONE HERE AND I GUESS IT'S UNAVOIDABLE WITHOUT LEAVING THE FANBASE ALTOGETHER#BUT HE MAKES MY FUCKING SKIN CRAWL I CAN'T STAND LOOKING AT HIM#ESPECIALLY AFTER GETTING 'THE ADVENTURE ZINE' AND HOW CAREY USED TO DRAW TAAKO#LIKE. THEIR OLD DESIGN FOR TAAKO WAS BORING BUT THE GN VERSION IS SO MUCH WORSE NOW#BECAUSE SHE LIKE. ACTIVELY CHOSE TO GIVE HIM VISUAL TRAITS THAT ARE VERY SIMILAR TO CERTAIN ANTISEMITIC CARICATURES#(WHETHER SHE KNEW THEY WERE TRAITS OF THOSE CARICATURES OR NOT DOESN'T REALLY CHANGE THE FINAL PRODUCT)#ESPECIALLY SEEING THAT SHE USED TO DRAW TAAKO IN A COMPLETELY NORMAL WAY#AND THE LOOKS PAIRED WITH HOW THEY CHANGED HIM TO BE SO MUCH CRUELLER AND GREEDIER IN THE GRAPHIC NOVEL....#LIKE. CAN YOU UNDERSTAND WHY HE GIVES ME THE FUCKING CREEPS#I CAN'T STAND LOOKING AT HIM I ONLY EVER ACTIVELY LOOK AT HIM WHEN DIRECTLY TALKING ABOUT HIM#I DON'T EVEN DISPLAY MY COPIES OF THE BOOKS. I ACTIVELY COVER THEM UP BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND LOOKING AT HIM#OUGHGHGGGHHHHH AGAIN THIS ISN'T DIRECTED AT ANYONE IN PARTICULAR#HE JUST MAKES ME FEEL SICK TO LOOK AT AND I SEE HIM CONSTANTLY DESPITE HAVING EVERY TAG I CAN THINK OF BLOCKED#(EXCLUDING TAGS THAT INVOLVE THE ORIGINAL SERIES. IT'S SPECIFICALLY THE GN THAT BOTHERS ME)#(I DON'T WANT TO BE LEFT OUT OF THE PODCAST'S FANDOM BECAUSE I LOVE THE ORIGINAL)#(BUT THE GRAPHIC NOVELS OFTEN DON'T GET TAGGED WITH SEPARATE TAGS SO IT'S HARD TO FILTER OUT JUST THE COMICS)#(AGAIN LIKE. THIS MIGHT BE JUST ME AND I'M NOT TRYING TO VAGUE ANYONE BUT JUST. UGHGHHGHHGHHHHH HE MAKES ME SO UNCOMFORTABLE)#vent
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#tag talk#watched âit followsâ and I shouldn't have. didn't know it was horror going in but after a few minutes I did and I should have stopped#I'm apparently still not 100% past self-terrifying as a form of self harm. I knew I shouldn't have and I kept watching anyway#you know. most people don't know what terror is. they know fear. they know worry. they know anxiety.#terror is something different. I wish I could describe it but you really only know it when you have felt it.#that freezing up of your body. I guess some people get terror in different ways though. I freeze. others fight or flight. I just freeze.#that sense of helpless anticipation as you experience the certainty that the object of your terror is approaching. inevitably.#why fight it? you fucking can't. no matter what you do it'll always get you. it's stronger. more powerful.#hmmm. csa moment oops. I am tempted to make a joke here but I don't want to deflect from my issues.#I have trauma and I wish I didn't. I have hurt that I don't even consciously remember but my body does.#I do not have emotional trauma in the way that people have survivors guilt and feeling like it was their fault. any of those surface emotion#not calling it shallow. but like. it's like when you don't look at the needle and you don't even notice the skin prick but you feel it#you feel it hit your vein and you feel that deep body response that Something Is Not Right.#like when I got my wisdom teeth pulled and I elected to not go under for it so I was numbed but conscious for it.#part way through my body started uncontrollably shaking (well. sort of controlled. I'm good at that).#I didn't feel the pain. I wasn't afraid. but my body was feeling objective physical trauma and I had the response anyway.#I don't remember really. I don't have the surface level pain responses to the trauma.#but deep down my body knows something is wrong and I can't stop my bones from shaking even though I don't feel the pain.#hmmm. I should talk to my next therapist about this.#Lear chased off our last therapist when I was having my dissociative week after watching The Hunt.#which. tbh good riddance she was not equipped to handle us in the slightest. and we're talking to our friend/gf(?) again which is really nic#she and Lear had a few solid conversations too. which was funky cause before he snapped he didn't want anything to do with her#but we kinda had a moment where he realized he's just as fucked up as I am just differently.#anyone reading these tag talks might remember so I won't go over it again.#anyway. I'm not sleeping tonight. I think I should start taking the full pill instead of just the half. but it's just suppressing symptoms#I'm acting up because of my inner state. or maybe my inner state is tumultuous because of my outer condition? idfk#either way I'm suffering over here#not a sui risk but damn#I'm gonna finish patching the pair of pants I've been not working on for the past months
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copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
yourusername
liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU đ
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood đŤĄ
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
f1
liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
oscarpiastri
liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: đ¤¨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful đ
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#oscar piastri instagram au#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri social media au
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festered wounds
â when youâve never been the first choice your whole life, itâs hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.
Š zhongrin | 2023  ⟠ no repostăťtranslationsăťplagiarism of any kindăťai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea âĄ
âź characters â zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley
âź tags â gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of âhurtâ
âź a/n â thisâŚ. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if itâs of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.
á´á´Ę ę°á´ĘĘ á´á´É´á´ (á´á´ęąá´á´ĘĘÉŞęąá´) ⟠á´á´á´Ęá´ĘęąĘÉŞá´ (á´á´É˘ĘÉŞęąá´)
âiâm sorry.â
zhongliâs heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship â and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.
âiâm sorry, mr. zhongli, i know youâre not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with peopleâs feelings, but iâm justâ i canâtââ you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.
âplease, hold your tongue for a moment,â the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. âare you saying that you⌠do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?â
ââŚ.. iâm sorry, iâm just not used to- iâve never-â you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, âiâm sorryâŚ.â
zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.
belatedly, he realized that âsomeoneâ was himself.
zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.
âmy dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment⌠however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once againââ
ââ please, give me a chance to heal you.â
âa-are you sure you want me?â
out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.
âunlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,â he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the âofficially datingâ phase, âis it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was âlaying it on thickâ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.â
âohâŚ.â
ââŚ.â
ââŚ.â
you thought you had gotten used to al haithamâs stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldnât seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.
âi-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! youâre so fit, so wouldnât you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and youâre the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarterâŚ. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i⌠uh, leave much to be desired while youâre⌠you knowâŚâ
you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldnât help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.
and it angered him.
but he wasnât angry at you. he was angry for you.
funny how empathy wasnât his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.
âi care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. itâs only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.â
âyouâre the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.â
âi donât think iâm a good choice for youâŚâ
wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, theâ
he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.
âalright, whoâs been talking shit? let me at them. it wonât be manslaughter if they donât die, right?â
he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy insteadâŚ
âwhat?! wait- no! no one said that, i juââ
âthen is your own head telling you that?â
âitâsââ you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.
he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.
he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.
â..⌠alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.â
the manâs hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldnât help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.
he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love youâve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.
âi say youâre the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.â
âź á´á´á´Ęá´ĘęąĘÉŞá´ (á´á´É˘ĘÉŞęąá´) â @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#zhongli#zhongli x reader#al haitham#al haitham x reader#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#rin writes
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in every lifetime
summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.
âIâll be back.â
âBut what ifââ
âI always come back, bub.â Loganâs looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard.Â
âLoganâŚâ Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but thereâs a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back.Â
âWait for me, then.â He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. âOkay? Wait for me.âÂ
âLogan,â you repeat. âWhat do I do if Iâ if I lose you?âÂ
Thereâs a feeling in the pit of Loganâs stomach, a sense of dread and fear that heâs only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye⌠That maybe if he does go, he wonât come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesnât heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows heâs sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.
But now, the thought of dying⌠It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that heâd leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought heâd be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed.Â
Through it all, you stayed.Â
And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything heâs been through, the things heâs seen, the things he had to do, the people heâs lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living.Â
âThen, you move on, darlinâ.â Logan finally answers.Â
âAnd if I canât?âÂ
âYouâll have to.âÂ
âI donât⌠I donât want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you andââ
âI love you with every fiber of my being, baby,â Logan interjects. âAnd I will love you in every lifetime.âÂ
And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or⌠Or that he was no longer here. It wasnât until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct.Â
You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Loganâs death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him.Â
You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didnât want to get out of bed, didnât want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him.Â
In your dreams, he was alive.Â
In your dreams, he had made it back home.
In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura.Â
And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasnât alive. He wasnât coming back home. He wasnât ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura.Â
Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on.Â
For yourself.
For Laura.
For Logan.Â
â
He didnât know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasnât even his timeline; he wasnât even meant to be here. Despite saving Wadeâs timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about.Â
But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wadeâs family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about.Â
Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret.Â
Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm.Â
He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that heâd do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldnât stop it.Â
Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didnât think he was deserving of it. Of you.Â
âI love you, Logan,â you had said, wincing at the pain.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry, Iâmââ Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. âPlease, baby, please please please, donâtââ
âI��â you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. âI will love you in every lifetime, Logan.â And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms.Â
Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself.Â
That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something⌠To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right.Â
âSo, will you meet her?â Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. âSheâ She used to be with this universeâs Logan andâŚâ
âNo chance, kid.â Logan interrupts, shaking his head. âIâm not him.âÂ
âDid you have someone like her in yours?â she asks. âSheâs always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didnât have to, when she was grieving. And I thinkââ Laura sighs. âI think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.â
âIâm not him,â Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. ââSides, sheâs better off without me.â He stands from the table and walks out into Wadeâs balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.
âBut sheâs coming tonight,â Laura finally says, long after Loganâs walked away.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didnât belong here. Heâs already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wadeâs apartment, an arm slinging over Lauraâs shoulders so casually, so maternally.Â
He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he canât help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until youâre the only one he hears.Â
Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought heâd be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. Thereâs a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that youâre probably expecting someone else, expecting this worldâs Logan and he doesnât want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesnât think heâd be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again.Â
But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, youâre already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he canât fully concentrate.Â
âYouâŚâ he hears you say, voice unsteady. âYouâre not⌠Iâmââ you sigh and shake your head.Â
âI know who you are,â Logan finally says, his own voice shaky.Â
Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isnât your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him â much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl.Â
âFrom Laura?â you ask hesitantly.Â
âFrom my universe,â Logan answers.Â
âThereâ Thereâs a version of me in your universe?âÂ
âThere was.â
âAnd what happened to me?âÂ
Loganâs jaw tightens. âThe same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.â
âOh.â Your face drops, eyes softening. âIâm sorry,â you whisper.Â
Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didnât believe it himself.Â
And you⌠You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
âDonât know why youâre apologizinâ,â Logan mutters.Â
Thereâs an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks.Â
âIâm sorry,â you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. âI justâ Losing my Logan just crushed me and I donât think Iâve ever recovered.âÂ
My Logan.Â
Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isnât a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him.Â
âThatâs okay,â Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. âI donât think itâs easy to recover from losing someone you love.â
âDid youâ Did you love me in your universe?âÂ
Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. âWith every fiber of my being.âÂ
Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles.Â
âDid you love me in yours?â Logan asks hesitantly.
You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. âIâd love you in every lifetime.âÂ
Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes.Â
âIâm not him,â he whispers.Â
âI know,â you say quietly. âAnd Iâm not her.âÂ
#hugh jackman wolverine#hugh jackman character#logan howlett#wolverine#worst wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#logan howlett fanfic#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine fanfic#wolverine fanfiction#worst wolverine fanfic#worst wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#post deadpool & wolverine#worst logan!variant#hugh jackman#logan howlett x f!reader
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â baby steps â || tokyo rev.
continuation of this post.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, ANGST w/ comfort (mostly in mikey's), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be A LOT of errors :// mikey's is LONG, ran + sanzu's are silly goofy, mikey + sanzu's are a lil unhinged lol and i think thatâs it :))
notes: can i just say thank y'all so much for showing "accidents happen" the love that i didn't think it would get, it was made on a whim so i'm so so so happy y'all enjoyed! i tagged as many as i could (or that tumblr would allow) sorry if i missed some of you :( thank you for your patience and let me know how you feel about this continuation format :) !! notes ii: also also, pt. 2 for "accidents happen" coming soon! notes iii: MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I THOUGHT I LOST EVERYTHING BUT IT'S OKAY IT'S OKAY :'))))
tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow , @captaincyberqueen , @cherryblossiren , @niragiswhore , @awkwardaardvarkforever , @valentsoup , @lovely212 , @miffysoo , @yandere-kouhai , @i-am-just-a-girl-ur-honor , @wisteriarose214 , @kindadolly , @yuwaimo , @sweetbella1221 , @simpingfor-wakasa , @sirachano0dles , @yutahg , @slowlikehonee , @blurpleuni-squid , @haruchiyoreen , @istanstraykidss , @loyard176 , @msluccapotato , @luv444lay , @backgroundcharactera , @jegelskeranime
Ever since you picked up your daughter, thereâs been a hovering presence that wouldnât go away no matter where you went. From the park, to the grocery store, all the way home it clung to you like a bad itch. Despite looking over your shoulder and being met without any sort of threat, that didnât stop the uneasy feeling. And it only intensified when you received a knock on your front door.
You made a confused hum, checking the time on the microwave to confirm that it was indeed past the reasonable hour for potential visitors. Not to mention, you werenât expecting anyone.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, instincts telling you that something wasnât right, that your best option was to pretend you werenât home. However, the person on the other side knew otherwise as they knocked on the door again, this time with more fervor. You inhaled sharply, taking hesitant steps towards the door until you were mere feet away from it. Eventually, you worked up the courage to look through the peephole, your brows furrowing in distress when all you could see was blackâThey were covering it. All the more reason not to open the doorâŚ
What if itâs a robber? Ridiculous, they donât knock.
What if itâs just the neighbor? Why cover the peephole?
More and more did your mind swirl with endless possibilities, each one becoming less and less believable. Taking a long, deep breath, you doubled-checked the door-chain was on before slowly cracking it open. And as you attempted to peek through the sliver, nothing couldâve prepared you for the arm that forced its way through, startling you as you yelped, stumbling back as it made a grab at you.
Before you had the thought of shoving the door closed on the offenderâs arm they grabbed the little chain, then yanked it clean out of the wall. To your terror, a dark hooded figure entered your home, head hung low, concealing their identity.
You began to hyperventilate, backing up to keep distance as they staggered further into your home before kicking the door closed behind them, effectively blocking you from the exit. Surely, someone heard your scream and would check in, or call the police. But, how long did you have before the intruder decided to make a move? Not to mention, your sleeping child just down the hallâŚ
With that last thought in mind, you immediately steeled your nerves.
Even if you had to use your bare hands, you were going to do whatever it took to keep your baby out of harms way.
You reached for the closest weapon without taking your eyes off the figure, hands clasping onto a discarded umbrella that was leaned up against a closet door. It wasnât ideal, but it would have to do. Taking a defensive stance, you prepared for what you assumed to be the inevitable.
âI-I donât know who you are, or what you wantâŚb-but if you donât leaveâŚmy..my boyfriend will be home any minute! H-He knows how to fight, and heâll fuck you up if you try anything!â
Your means of intimation fall on deaf ears. It were as if you hadnât spoken at all. They justâŚstood there. Watching you from the darkness. That feeling, that hovering presence youâd been weary about all eveningâŚthere was no doubt in your mind it was because of this individual. Suddenly, they gave a watery chuckle, hand coming up to rub the lower half of their face as the chilling noise dissipated into soft snickers.
You sweatdropped. âI mean it! Heâll be here real soon, so you better get out of here before-â
â[_____]âŚâ the figure finally rasped, voice heavy with an emotion you couldnât decipher in the moment. You froze, eyes widening.
ââŚHow the hell do you know my name?â
Without much urgency, they stepped forward into the light. Beneath the warm glow, it took you mere seconds to recognize the person standing before you. You gasped, trembling hands dropping the umbrella, it landing with a harsh clatter. Soft, mortified hitches in your breath echoed through the small space, memories flashing before your eyes as you covered your gaping mouth.
âM.. Ma..â you whimpered, throat tightening. A shell of a man, who gazed upon you with stormy eyes flooded with tears at the mere sight of you.
He gave another strained laugh, muttering to himself as he soaked you all in. âNeeded to know.. Needed to know it was really youâŚâ
Mikey eyed you up, intensely, eerily silent as he did so. Then, he took in the surroundings, the warmth, the interior, the smell of dinnerâIt truly felt like a home. A bitter pill to swallow once he reminded himself that you built it without him.
His sharp gaze returned to your stunned expression. He sneered.
âMustâve been easy for you. To forget me and move on, just like that. Like I was nothing.â
You blinked, taken aback. All you could do was remain speechless, cemented to the ground with thoughts and questions racing in your head. Now matter how many times you opened your mouth, no sound would come out aside from choked whimpers.
âDo you knowâŚhow long Iâd been searching for you? Been mourning for you?â He hissed through clenched teeth. âWhen you left, I thought⌠I thought someone had taken you. That I lost you all because I was too stubborn to say Iâm sorryâŚâ
As he spoke, Mikey slowly closed the space between you. The more he came into the light, the more you could see how the years had treated him. His cheekbones were more pronounced, the dark circles under his eyes as well. His lips were dry, cracked, his fair skin now ghoulishly pale. If not for the black hoodie you wouldâve mistaken him as such; ghost of your past.
Your shoulders shook, hands hovering over your face as you gaped in disbelief. Heâd been looking for you?
That night, that stupid fight you could barely rememberâŚhe made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. He pushed you away. Pushed so hard that you almost believed he really wouldnât have cared if you dropped dead. You knew he didnât mean it, knew it was just another dark impulseâŚbut none of that mattered when all your pregnancy tests came back positive just hours prior.
That night, you made the decision for the sake of your daughter. And also, for his sake. At the time, you were certain he wasnât ready to be a father. He was quick to rage, merciless, losing himself to the darkness you tried to protect him from. If you had stayed, you were certain Mikey wouldâve never forgiven himself if he lost control in front of his own flesh and blood, if the child grew to resent him for something he struggled to control.
You thought you were doing him a favorâŚbut it appears to have done the opposite.
âAnd this whole timeâŚyouâve been here, alive. Playing fucking house with someone else.â
You stiffened. Someone else? Your visible confusion only irritated him further.
He scoffed. âDonât play dumb. You said it yourself. Too bad he wonât be coming home anytime soon. Iâve already got Sanzu and the Haitanis looking around for the bastard. And when they find him, Iâll make him regret sticking his filthy dick inside you.â
Confusion morphed into realization. You did threaten him with said hypothetical boyfriendâŚBut, that was before you knew it was him!
âOh, ManjiroâŚâ you whispered. He glared, scorned.
âDonât you dare pity me. I mean, you got the family you always wanted, right? So who cares who it was with, right? Congratu-fucking-lations.â
You shook your head, exhaling deeply as you held your face in your hands. For years, he thought you dead. Then, when he received word of your appearance, he finds you with child. And not once did he consider that child to be his? Itâs likeâŚhe couldnât fathom the thought.
If only he had looked just a little bit closer, he wouldâve seen that she had his eyes. How they resembled those pools of ink that used to shine with so much hope back in his youth, so playful and full of loveâŚthose same eyes that now gazed upon you with contempt.
It stung.
He thought so low, not only of himself, but of you as well.
Taking a deep breath to reel in your emotions, tears began to well up in your eyes. He assumed they were tears for your doomed lover, further breaking his heart as Mikey clenched his fists to the point of nearly drawing blood. Luckily, even though you struggled to find the right words, someone else happily found them for you.
âPapa..?â
Both of you instantly drew your attention on the toddler standing near the kitchen, one fist clutching her blanket while the other rubbed the sleep from her eye. You glanced at Mikey, and he was stiller than stone. His once dead-stare had morphed into what could only be described as incredulous. Surely, he heard her incorrectlyâŚ
With a sniffle, you crouched down to address her, offering a soft grin as you nodded earnestly. âThatâs right, sweetheart. Papaâs finally come home.â
The little girl blinked sleepily, taking a second to reboot. But, as soon as the words registered, a bright smile stretched across her face as she excitedly rushed towards Mikey, throwing herself onto his legs and hugging them like a koala as she chirped, âPapa, home!â
Said man hobbled a bit at the force, arms windmilling as he caught himself to keep from falling backwards. He didnât know what to do with himself, especially when those big, round pools of ink opened and stared right up into his soul. Mikeyâs heart nearly stopped. With a hitch in his breath, the gangster did everything he could to hold his composure, looking between you and the child as you both gazed at him with so much warmthâŚit was suffocating.
Sensing he was overwhelmed, you reached down to scoop up the bubbly bundle, holding her close as you eyed Mikey, apprehensively.
He resembled a cornered animalâMuscles stiff, jaw tight, eyes wild. After a moment, Mikey began to slowly back away into the shadows of your home, conflicted, devastated. It wasnât until his back hit the door did he eventually fall to his ass, of which caused your child to giggle at how silly he was being. However, all you could do was hold back tears, watching as the reality started to weigh down on a man who just discovered he was a father.
Nervous, you gently explained. âI didnât leave you because of our spat, JiroâŚand I never moved on. I justâŚthought that Iâd be doing more harm than good sticking around when I found out I was pregnantâŚI didnât want to add any more stress on your plate, so IâŚâ
Mikey didnât respond. He sat there, stare vast and unfocused. But, you knew he hung on to every word. So you continued. âI wanted to tell you. ButâŚI wasnât sure how. At the time, I believed you had stopped caring about me altogether. And to hear youâd been looking for me, I-IâmâŚIâm so sorry. Iâm sorry you harbored all that guilt. I didnât mean for any of that to happen.â
Your daughter wiggled around in your hold, making small grunts in complaint. Her eyes were trained on his figure huddled in the dark, wanting to be acknowledged, wanting his attention. âPapa!â
Mikey flinched. He focused his gaze on the two you, haloed by the light emitting from the living room. You both were like salvation, reaching down to a broken sinnerâŚHow could she want anything to do with him? When he had missed so much alreadyâŚ
To keep from accidentally dropping her, you placed your daughter back on the ground, watching wearily as she wobbled all the way to Mikey, blanket in tow. You werenât worried about him hurting her, far from itâŚif anything, he appeared to be the fragile one.
Eventually, she made it to her destination, standing before him with a curious, but eager expression as she rested a hand on his knee. Mikey watched her, took in all of her features, every last detail as he engraved it to memory. She was beautiful, just like her mother. One would think his genes didnât stand a chance. But the eyes. That was all him. From his mother to his older brother to himself, there was no doubt in his mind that those were Sano eyes.
His lower lip quivered, reaching out hesitantly to caress her cheek. She didnât cower away, merely babbled as she began patting his knee, allowing his thumb to rub over her chubby cheek. You clasped your hands over your mouth, growing even more emotional at the delicate moment. Mikey looked enamored already, eyes subtly sparkling from what you could see as they interacted.
âI-I told her stories, about you. And I made sure to show her photos, too. Old ones, but still you nonetheless. I wanted her to know who her father truly was. Despite everything elseâŚâ
Your daughter cooed, then placed her blanket in Mikeyâs lap before climbing into it. Mikey didnât dare move, rigid as she made herself comfortable. He looked up at you, looking for guidance, for reassurance. Your encouraging smile was enough for him to hesitantly place his hands on her small back for support, carefully adjusting so that she was stable. She laid her head on his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sighing contentedly.
And, for the first time in years, he smiled.
When you hadnât seen her familiar pigtails bobbing around, or heard any of her excited chatter with the receptionist up front, worry couldnât even begin to describe what you felt the moment you realizeâŚyour daughter wasnât here.
As soon as the meeting looked like it was wrapping up, you politely excused yourself from the room. Masking your worry wasn't too difficult, but there's no doubt a couple people might've noticed the spring in your step as you exited. One of them being Rindou Haitani. He watched you speed down the hall with mild interest, corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly as he thumbed around on his phone beneath the table. Having been updating his older brother during the meeting while he was on his smoke break, he was more than eager to inform him of the storm that was no doubt heading his way.
Little did the younger Haitani know, he was already dealing with one.
"And then, Haruka-kun tries to take Momo-kun's bento box because she had cuter animal shapes, but Momo-kun already said no, and so Haruka-kun pushes Momo-kun, and then tries to take it! But I pushed him and hit him with my fist, like this," she clenched up her tiny fist and held it up to Ran before striking down on his forearm with all her might. It didn't even pitch. "Like that."
The lavender-eyed man merely gazed upon her with mirth. "Did you now?"
"Mmhm! And teacher got so mad, and said that she would tell Ma about me fighting, but she's stupid because Ma didn't pick me up today, and I told Haruka-kun if he snitches, I'll beat 'em up!"
Ran lowly whistled. "Quite the little menace, ain'tcha?"
She pumped her fists. "Yeah!" Then, she paused, holding a finger to her chin in thought. "Wait...what's a menace?"
"Ah, something you inherited from your old man." He ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. Though her innocent jab earlier regarding his age still hit a sore spot, he was starting to like the sound of it. She, on the other hand, wasn't convinced.
"I already told you; Ma was on her happy juice when she said that. She said not to believe anything she says when she's on happy juice. It makes her do silly things."
Ran chuckled. He knew that all too well. The little girl wouldn't be in this world if not for your inability to hold your liquor. But judging based on how you've raised her so far, clearly you made the right decision keeping him in the dark.
He'll admit, he wasn't the best in terms of commitment. Throughout his day to day, Ran just didn't have the energy. With being in Bonten, keeping an eye out for his younger brother, handling business, dealing with numbskulls and disposing of their bodies, there was never a time to even consider settling down. One-night stands and on and off flings were the easiest choice. At least, until he stumbled upon you.
You were the whole package and more. Classy, independent, witty, and a looker to top it all off. When Bonten started collaborating with the organization you worked in, he couldn't help but to be drawn to youâLike a moth to a flame. It started out as the occasional bantering, trying to one-up the other, catch them off guard. Ran was smooth with his words but could never quite beat your sharp tongue. Thus, things escalated to something more flirtatious. Harmless, but it didn't take long before the months of tension between the both of you began boiling over...and throwing alcohol into the mix, it was the first time Ran finally felt like he had the upper hand. Seeing how poorly you handled just a few glasses of wine, it endeared him. Seeing a piece of you that no one else had the privilege to witness. Your sloppy side, the clumsy, whiny, touchy side. After that long, passionate night beneath the sheets, the one time you and Ran allowed yourselves the space to be vulnerable with one another...you found yourself pregnant. And Ran found himself being nonethewiser.
He wonders, if he hadn't left the next morning and completely ghosted you...would you have kept him in the picture?
Suddenly, his phone dings. Reaching back to pull it from his back pocket, Ran half expected it to just be another update on the meeting or Rindou cursing at him to hurry his ass back inside. But, it wasn't that at all. And at the sound of your kitten heels rushing out of the building and halting at the top of the steps, Ran didn't even need to look up to know who was glowering down from them.
"Hey, Ma! Guess what, the purple man isn't such a meanie after all!"
Ran snorted, finally looking up from his phone to greet the woman who not only still had his heart, but evidently his first child. You, on the other hand, weren't so thrilled to see him.
"Rika. Wait inside. Ma's got some words for the purple man."
He smirked. "Wanna say 'em over a glass of wine?"
"You son of a-!"
"Bad word!" Your daughter covered her ears. You flushed, your composure nearly slipping just by being in his prescence. Ran, immediately seeing the opportunity, teasingly pouts at you whilst covering her tiny hands with his larger ones, shielding her.
"Honey, please, not in front of the child. Can't have her repeating those dirty words at school, can we?"
You fumed, speaking through clenched teeth. "Haitani, as soon as I get her in this building, away from you, I swear to God, I'm gonna wring your neck."
He hummed, amused. "Well. Guess she didn't get her violent side from me after all. Speaking of which, did you know at school today-"
"Hey! No snitching!"
â...What did you say?âÂ
You were hoping you heard the teacher wrong. Surely it was just your exhaustion taking the wheel. But, when her kind smile didnât falter, nor did her gushes for the supposed âadorable displayâ, you immediately grew suspicious.
While heading home from work, you went to pick up your children from daycare. And when you arrived, the teacher merely informed you that it was already taken care of by your very handsome and very devoted husband.Â
âI-I think youâre mistaken. My boyfriend and I arenât marriedâŚâ
The teacher, finally coming back down to earth, tilted her head in confusion. âEh? You arenât?âÂ
âDid heâŚsay we were?âÂ
âWell, no. I just assumed since it was easy to tell who he was here for. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.â
You choked on your spit. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.
You did everything in your power to keep from strangling the poor woman. Sure, she didnât do anything wrong per sayâŚbut she sure did make a grave error. And your struggle to restrain your intrusive thoughts mustâve shown on your face from the way she placed a concerned hand on your arm. âAre you alright, miss? You look like youâre about to faint.â
âM-Mhm, yep, great, just peachy.â You squeaked through clenched teeth, sweatdrop on your forehead. âCould you umâŚconfirm something for me?â
âUh.? Er, sure. Iâll try my best.â
With tense shoulders and a tight smile, you asked, âTheirâŚfatherâŚdid his mouth have two scars in the corners?â
The teacher blinked, confused. Shouldnât you already know that answer yourself?, she was probably thinking. And she would be right; you did know. But her simple, hesitant nod was the final nail in the coffin that was your delusionâHaruchiyo Sanzu had found you. And to make matters worse, he had the children.
Your smile faltered, twitching ever so slightly. Covering it with a forced chuckle, you cried, âOh, thatâs..wonderful! Heâs always been self conscious about them, and Iâm j-just.. beaming with joy that heâs embracing them more. Have a nice evening, Ms. Yuki.â
The teacher didnât get a chance to respond as you quickly turned on your heel and began speed walking home. Youâd apologize for your abrupt exit another dayâŚright now there were more important matters to worry about. For instanceâHow on earth did Sanzu find you? How did he know about the twins and where they were? Oh, GodâŚdid he know about Satoru?
Dialing him up a few times only for the calls to go straight to voicemail werenât reassuring in the slightest, having you rush across oncoming traffic just so you could avoid any further delays for your fraying nerves. You could see your apartment complex up ahead, heart thumping in your throat at the familiar, black SUV parked a couple blocks down. Had it not been for the heavily tinted windows and no license plates, you probably wouldâve overlooked it. He knew where you lived. Stomach in knots, muscles stiff, nerves shot. You didnât know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Your kids were safe at home, but at what cost? You stood in front of the building, rooted to the ground. Despite mentally preparing for this exact scenario for years, it all went down the drain the second you went to that daycare and discovered your children were missing.
It wasnât until your phone vibrated did you snap out of your thoughts, shakily pulling the device out of your back pocket to check the notification.
from : unknown 1:06 pm   â hi, mama.~ â
Your stomach twisted. Attached to the message were two photos.
The first photo was of your kids eating McDonald's in the kitchen, happily cheesing and waving at the camera. You couldn't hold your choked gasp, hand coming up to hold your quivering lower lipâThey were safe.
The second photo...was of Satoru. Tied to a chair, gagged, and beaten senseless. And standing behind him, holding him by his hair so that he could pose for the camera, grinning like a cheshire cat...
Another message pops up. Your grip tightened around your phone.
from : unknown 1:09 pm " daddy's home.~ "
Š 2024-2025 anisespice ă all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#đwasabi#*weakly holds up to the light*#it...is...FINISHED#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyorev x reader#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo revengers x reader#mikey x reader#mikey sano#manjiro x reader#manjiro sano#ran x reader#ran haitani#sanzu x reader#sanzu haruchiyo
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How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.
Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.
A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.
tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917
It had all been Samâs idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."
Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldnât hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?
Well, now he knew.
Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disastersâand not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadnât signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said âcollection,â he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.
So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy cafĂŠ, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, heâd let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.
You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.
âHi,â you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.
âHey, Iâm Bucky.â he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.
You walked inside, and the cafĂŠ had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where youâre not sure if youâre supposed to sit or admire the interior design.
As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.
Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?
âI, uh, like your dress,â Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.
âThanks,â you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. âI like your... jacket.â
Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. âYeah. Itâs... warm.â
Warm? Thatâs what youâre going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. âUh... so, whatâs good here?â
âI donât know, Iâve never been,â you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. âThe internet said they have good coffee, though.â
âInternet reviews, huh?â Bucky raised an eyebrow. âThatâs always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.â
Cue the awkward silence.
The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a cafĂŠ. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.
You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.
Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, thatâs boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like âHey, itâs been cold lately,â to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.
Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, thatâs basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!
Bucky, still chewing the worldâs driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when youâre not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.
Did she just smile at me because Iâm being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.
You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, âI like you,â or the one that says, âIâm trapped in this date and donât know how to escapeâ?
You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.
Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.
âSo, uh... howâs your coffee?â
You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. Howâs my coffee? Itâs coffee. Just say itâs good. Donât overthink it.
âItâs... good. Howâs your bagel?â
Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. âItâs... round.â
Round? Really? You went with âroundâ? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.
Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as âroundâ? Okay, maybe Iâm not the only one struggling here.
You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.
You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.
Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks Iâm a complete idiot. But itâs fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.
You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks theyâre boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but thenâ
Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.
âYou go first,â Bucky said quickly.
âNo, no, you first,â you insisted, waving your hand.
Buckyâs brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. âUh... did you... park nearby?â
You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. âNo Iâum took public transport. Did you?â
Bucky gave a stiff nod. âYeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.â
You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.
âParking?â you laughed, shaking your head. âThatâs the best weâve got?â
Bucky held up his hands. âHey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.â
You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. âAnd I thought the frogs were bad.â
Bucky couldnât help but laugh harder. âOkay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.â
âGlad to be the non-frog date.â You raised your cup in mock salute.
You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.
As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. âSo, whatâs next? You ready for the escape room?â
âI dunno. Should I be worried?â Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.
âOnly if youâre bad at puzzles,â you teased.
Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. âOh, trust me, I think Iâll manage.â
And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."
Oh, great. Creepy hospital dĂŠcor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least itâs better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.
âThis is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,â you said, glancing at Bucky. âTakes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?â
âYeah, sure. I mean... itâs puzzles, right? How hard can it be?â Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. Iâve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?
âYouâve never done one of these before, right?â You looked at him, a bit skeptical.
He shook his head. âFirst time. But, uh... Iâm good under pressure.â Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like Iâm about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.
âAlright. Letâs do this.â You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves.Â
The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: âWelcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... youâll need it.â
Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. âOkay, first thingâs first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.â
Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?
You froze mid-step. âWait. How did youââ
âI... uh... just pulled on it.â Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?
âOkay. Lucky guess.â You stared at him.Â
Bucky shrugged. âMaybe.â Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like youâre clueless here.
You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier dĂŠcor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I donât trust that mannequin. Whyâs it looking at me like that?
You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. âThis says something about finding the light within the dark. I think itâs a clue. We need toââ
âFound it,â Bucky called out.
You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?!Â
âThey always hide something with a blacklight, right?â He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. Thatâs a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?
âOh, youâre just full of ideas now, huh?â You crossed your arms, smirking.
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. âJust... using my instincts.â Yep. Totally knew that.
You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button thatâsurpriseâopened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luckâor so you thought.
This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.
At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Buckyâcompletely obliviousâpulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.
No. No way. âAre youââ You blinked. âDid you justââ
Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. âWhat? Was that not supposed to happen?â
You slapped your forehead. âNo! I mean, yes, butâoh my God, Bucky, youâre breaking the game.â
He raised his hands in surrender. âI swear Iâm not doing it on purpose!â Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?
You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. âWhat are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?â
Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. âNah, I just thought the book looked weird.â Great, now she thinks Iâm some kind of escape room wizard.
You gaped at him. âThe book looked weird?â Weird? Dude, Iâm starting to think you have X-ray vision.
âI mean... yeah. It was dusty.â It wasnât even that weird... or was it?
You squinted at him, hands on your hips. âYouâre telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, âAha! Hidden door.â?â
âIsnât that... what youâre supposed to do in these rooms?â Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.
This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. âOh my God. Youâre accidentally good at this. Youâre just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!â
Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what Iâm doing, but Iâm glad sheâs laughing. âI swear Iâve never done this before.â This isnât even the weirdest thing thatâs happened to me this week.
âI donât know whether to be impressed or terrified,â you teased, stepping closer to him. âYouâre like a walking cheat code.â Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.
âHey, Iâm just here to help.â He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least sheâs impressed. Thatâs something.
I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. âAlright, escape room prodigy, letâs see if you can crack the last one.â
You entered the final roomâa dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.
âOkay, this is the hardest part. No way youâre going to just... guess your way out of this one.â
âYeah, this oneâs. . . tricky.â Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please donât let me stumble into the solution again...Â
Please donât let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.
You pointed at the mannequin. âWe need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says itâs âlocked in the mind.â So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?â
Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. Youâve got to be kidding me.
âAre you KIDDING me?!â Your jaw dropped.Â
âI just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?â Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish.Â
Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. âOf COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!â
Bucky bit back a laugh. âWell, it did say âlocked in the mind.ââ Technically, I was right.
You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. âOkay, thatâs it. Youâre banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.â
âRuined it?â Bucky asked, grinning. âWe escaped, didnât we?â Sheâs totally impressed, even if she wonât admit it.
âWe escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!â You slapped his arm playfully. âThatâs not normal!â
He laughed, ducking his head. âSorry?â Guess Iâm not so bad at this âfun dateâ thing.
As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like theyâd just witnessed the impossible.
âYouâre... done?â Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.
Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isnât real, Bucky thought.
You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. âUh. . .yeah, I guess?â
âLooks like it.â Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.
Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. âTwelve minutes. No. Thatâs not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. Weâve had people cry!â
Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? âYou want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?â Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.Â
âPeople have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.â Pink-haired Girl blinked.Â
You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. âI didnât even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.â
âYou were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.â Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...
The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldnât believe what he was seeing. âDid you... have the answers beforehand? Because thatâs the hardest room weâve got. Weâve had people rage-quit in there.â
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. âNah, just good at finding my way out of things.â
âI didnât even do anything. You solved the whole thing!â You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.
âHey, you were a great moral support.â Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, itâs good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a roomâs dignity.
Clipboard Guy muttered, âWeâre gonna have to ban him. Heâs banned.â
Oh no, Iâve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.
âHe broke the hardest room weâve got. Who even does that?â Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded.Â
âWell, Iâd offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I donât think itâd be convincing.â Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I canât fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.
As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low.Â
âWhat? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?â
âHonestly? It wouldâve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.â You groaned, though you were smiling.
âNext time, Iâll let you have the first clue. Promise.â Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean Iâll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.
 âYou better.â You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.
Ă Ă Ă Ă
The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.
Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.
Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time heâd been in an arcade, they didnât have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now Iâve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.
Still, he couldnât help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if sheâs this excited, maybe this wonât be so bad.
âOkay, so... how does this place work again?â he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.
You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. âItâs simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.â
Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. âSo, you win tickets byâ?â
âBy being amazing at games, obviously,â you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. âLetâs see if you can keep up.â
Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. âOh, Iâll keep up.â Alright, letâs see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?
You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.
Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. âOh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?â
âI dunno. I just... throw.â Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot.Â
âThis is what I get for going on a date with someone whoâs literally built for accuracy.â You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like Iâm mad? Itâs honestly impressive.
He flashed a boyish grin. âYou wanted to see if I could keep up.â Oh, Iâm keeping up, doll.
You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. âI wasnât trying to lose in record time.â
When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
âShould I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?â he teased, raising an eyebrow.
How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. âYou know what? Fuck you.â
âCareful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.â Buckyâs smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken.Â
Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. âYou wish.â
âYou know I donât have to wish for anything.â He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.
Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. âIâm starting to regret bringing you here.â
Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. âYouâre only regretting it because Iâm walking away with all the prizes.â Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?
âYeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.â You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise.Â
Bucky shot you another wink. âOh, I plan to.â
This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. âSo... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,â you waved at the arcade tickets, âdoes not feel like the same guy.â
âWhat? You werenât impressed by my bagel observations?â Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?
You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. âOh, I was very impressed. I just didnât know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.â
He grinned, eyes glinting. âIâm full of surprises, doll.â You have no idea.
âClearly,â you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. âLetâs see how many more surprises youâve got.â
You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.
âIâm kinda good at this,â you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. âYou canât have a crazy aim for everything.â Finally, something I can win.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. âOkay. Letâs see what you got.â
You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?
âYouâre holding it too tight.â Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.Â
âOh, great. Here we go. The expert.â You groaned. Of course, Iâm holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.
Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.
Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.
âRelax,â he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. âDonât grip it so hard. Just like this.â
How am I supposed to relax when heâs practically wrapped around me?
Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologneâwoodsy and warmâfilled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. âOkay... relax. Right. Got it.â
âYouâre not relaxing.â Buckyâs voice was low, almost teasing.
Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream.Â
âI am relaxed!â you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.
Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. âIf you were relaxed, you wouldnât be holding your breath.âÂ
If sheâs holding her breath, I must be doing something right.
You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.
âGood,â he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. âNow, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.â
Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.
You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.
âI did it!â you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.
Your faces were just inches apart. Buckyâs eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kindâthe kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.
God, sheâs close. Just a little closer...
Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, toâ
âUh, sorry!â A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.
Of course. Great timing, kid.
You quickly stepped out of Buckyâs embrace, your face flushed. âWell, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.â
Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. âYeah. Anytime.â Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? Thatâs all youâve got?
You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.
Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.
âOh my God,â you muttered, pointing. âThat goose is so cute.â
Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and itâs that giant bird?
âYou like that thing?â he asked, tilting his head slightly.
âI mean, look at it. Itâs the size of a couch,â you said, laughing. âNo oneâs ever gonna win enough tickets for that.â
Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.
The kid behind the counter stared at him. âUh, you know this isnât enough for the goose, right?â
Bucky nodded. âYeah, but... whatâs it take to win that thing?â
Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.
The kid blinked. âLike... a thousand tickets.â
Bucky smirked, then turned to you. âWait here.â
âWhat are you doing?â You frowned, confused.Â
Please donât say youâre going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, heâs going to try and win a thousand tickets.
Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determinedâlike he was about to go to war.
One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kidâs jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.
âHoly crap,â you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.
The oversized goose was practically half Buckyâs height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.
âHere you go,â he said, handing it to you with a proud look. âYou said you liked it, right?â
Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?
You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. âBucky... this is insane. Itâs huge.â
âWell, I couldnât just leave without winning you something.â He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like youâre not insanely proud of yourself right now.Â
Heâs... adorable. Stop. Focus. âYou really didnât have to... but I love it.â You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest.Â
âGood.â Buckyâs eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.
Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. âYouâre full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew youâd be this good at arcades?â
Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.
âMaybe I just wanted to impress you.â He smiled, a little more reserved this time.
Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. âWell, mission accomplished.â
You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.
âYou know, this might be the best date Iâve ever been on,â you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?
Buckyâs smile grew, his eyes softening. âYeah?â
âYeah,â you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. âDefinitely the best.â Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.
You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.
Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?
The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.
Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.
After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. âSo... is this the end?â Smooth, real smooth.
You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. âWell, thatâs all I had planned. Why?â
Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, donât screw this up. Donât sound too eager.
For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.
âI kind of donât want to go home yet.â Well, there it is. Now she knows.
You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said itâso simple but sincereâmade your heart skip.
Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.
âWell...â you started, glancing up at him. âThereâs a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and itâs supposed to have the best view of the city.â
âSky deck, huh?â Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.
You nodded, a little more excited now. âYeah. Itâs pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I havenât been yet, but I heard itâs amazing at night.â
âSounds better than going home.â Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. Iâm not ready for this to be over yet.
âThen letâs go.â You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster.Â
You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasnât completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.
Ă Ă Ă ĂÂ
The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didnât come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.
Sheâs... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?
Noticing the quiet, you smirked. âSo, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?â
Oh, sheâs teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. âWhat, beating you at arcade games wasnât enough?â
You laughed, shaking your head. âYouâre a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like thereâs more youâre holding back.â
His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. âMaybe I am.â
Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. âOh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?â
Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.
Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. âIâve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.â
God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?
âNicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?â you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.
âKeep hanging around,â he said softly.
Iâm in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe Iâm reading this wrong...
His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just himâhis voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.
You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.
âI could do that,â you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. Heâs really staring... isnât he?
âYouâre staring,â you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.
Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. âAm I?â
Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you havenât been staring for the past five minutes.
âMhm,â you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? âI mean, I get it. The viewâs great and all.â
Buckyâs smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. âYou could say that.â
I canât believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?
âYouâre not just talking about the city, are you?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. âMaybe not.â
Your breath hitched. âAnd what are you looking at?â
He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. âWhat do you think?â
She knows exactly what Iâm looking at.Â
Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldnât wait any longer...
Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance heâd been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe Iâm rushing this.
âSorry... I didnât mean toââ
âNo,â you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? âDonât be. I didnât mind.â
His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didnât mind? Well, maybe I didnât screw up, after allâor I did because you didnât kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.
âSo... orthopedic ward, huh?â he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. âHow do you handle that? All those broken bones?â
Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.
You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now Iâm thinking about how close he was... âWell, itâs mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldnât believe what people put themselves through.â
Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering Iâve done dumber things in my time. âI can believe it. Iâve been there.â
You raised an eyebrow. âYouâve skateboarded down staircases?â
âNo, but Iâve done some pretty stupid things in my time,â he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. âBut if I did something dumb, youâd patch me up, right?â
You smirked, your eyes twinkling. Heâs flirting again. I canât take this seriously. âOh, Iâd patch you up. But Iâd make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.â
âFair,â Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture meâjust keep talking, I donât care. âBut I think Iâd be a good patient.â
You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. âI doubt that. Youâd probably complain the whole time.â
âI wouldnât,â he replied, his tone teasing but soft. Iâd let her take care of me, no problem. âIf you were the one taking care of me, Iâd be on my best behavior.â
Heâs definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now Iâm thinking about kissing him again...
âYou donât strike me as someone whoâs ever on their best behavior,â you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.
Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. âMaybe you bring it out in me.â
God, I hope so.
The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. Heâs close againâŚ
âIâll have to see that for myself,â you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.
Sheâs close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Buckyâs gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. âYou just might.â
A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. âSo... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?â
Buckyâs eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. âWhy? You worried Iâve got someone else lined up?â
You grinned, holding his gaze. âMaybe. Should I be?â
Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. âI donât know... do you have any other dates lined up?â
Heâs really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, âWell, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.â
Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. âGuess I better make sure it ends right, then.â
Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.
Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.
Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours âeverything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.
Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.
They didnât stop until they couldnât breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Buckyâs thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, âDefinitely no other dates lined up after this.â
You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. âGood. Neither do I.â
Ă Ă Ă Ă
As Buckyâs motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.
That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.
Bucky, being the gentleman, didnât just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.
Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.
"Iâll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasnât 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.
You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "Youâre walking me to my porch?"
Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks itâs weird? Hell, I thought thatâs what youâre supposed to do.
âOf course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?â he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.
You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. Heâs serious. Oh my God, heâs really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. Whatâs next, you gonna tip your hat and call me âmaâamâ?"
Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. âI could, if thatâs what youâre into.â
You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. Heâs ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldnât help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.
When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.
You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"
Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. âJust making sure you get home safe.â
Alright, Barnes, sheâs not buying it. But hey, it worked.
âYou know, they invented porch lights for a reason.â You shook your head, amused. Heâs seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.
âWhat can I say? Old habits die hard.â Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please donât laugh, please donât laugh.
You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. âYou know, thereâs a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.â
Bucky chuckled. Sheâs killing me with that smirk. âHey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.â
Oh, not the bagels again. âOh my God, not the bagels again!â you burst out laughing, shaking your head.
He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. âYou know theyâre round, right?â
This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. âI think weâve officially come full circle.â
âJust like a bagel.â Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.
You couldnât help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?
âAlright, alright, youâve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?â
Buckyâs grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. Sheâs gotta be messing with me right now, right? âGoodnight, maâam.â
âGoodnight, soldier.â You couldnât stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Donât walk away, donât walk away yet...
As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Donât just leave like a dork.
But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.
No, Iâm not leaving yet. Not without...
Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed youâsoft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.
That... was... wow.
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. âI guess I couldnât leave without a proper goodbye.â
Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.
You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, âNo complaints here.â
Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. âHey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?â
Heâs asking for my number after that?
You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. âYeah, hereâlet me put it in.â
As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision Iâve made all night.
When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, Iâm done for.
Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. âAlright. Iâll call you.â
Yeah, you better. âIâll hold you to that.â
He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. âGoodnight... again.â
You stood there, grinning like an idiot. âGoodnight, Bucky.â
As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.
You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, âJust trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.â
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. Iâm never going to forget this night...
#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagines#winter soldier imagines#winter solider x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#the winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier#winter soldier x female reader#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier fic#winter soldier fanfic#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan characters#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan fanfiction#the winter solider x reader#the winter soldier x you#james barnes x you#james barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes x y/n#james barnes
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bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.9k
author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.
warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only
âYouâve got to be fucking joking,â Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. âTyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?â
âNat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.â You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.
âNuh-uh,â Natasha shakes her head. âI don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.â She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. âHe's too gorgeous,â she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.
âTrust me,â you sigh. âI was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.â You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.
âHe said his dick game is âtoo good to need to eat a girl outâ.â You shake your head, cringing at the memory. âWhich is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.â
âWell?â she asks, a pained expression across her features. âWas it? Too good?â
âI didn't stay to find out,â you admit. âI faked a work emergency and dipped.â A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.
âI'm sorryââ she says, although her face says otherwise. âI shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?â
âDon't fucking remind me,â you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. âI think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.â
Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.
Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.
âHey, boys,â Nat greets them cheerily. âWhere are the two of you going so dolled up?â
âThere's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,â Sam answers. âThey invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?â He gestures towards the screen.
âCouldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?â Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. âWho knows, you might even meet someone,â she adds, nudging you with her elbow.
Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.
âFor sure,â you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. âCouldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?â You direct the last part to Sam in particular.
âYou got it,â Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Natâs phones chime with the club information. âLet's go man, our Uber's here,â he directs at Bucky.
âSee you both soon,â he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.
âI'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute toââ Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.
âWas he acting kind of odd?â you interrupt her in a hushed tone.
âBarnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.â
âSome spy you are,â you mumble. âMeet me back here when you're ready.â
â â â â â
One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.
What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?
You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal missâ
âYou girls have a great evening,â your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.
You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friendâŚ
Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.
âThanks,â you tell her. âI'll buy our drinks.â
âDon't worry about me,â she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.
âYou just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowingââ
âSuper hot guy? Are you talking about me?â Samâs voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.
There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.
âYou both look wonderful,â he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.
To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.
âThanks!â You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.
Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.
âI see what you mean now,â Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. âAbout Barnes,â she clarifies. âHe's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.â
If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.
âHe has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,â you say in an almost scolding tone.
âI'm just saying,â she throws her hands up. âThereâs no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,â she shrugs.
âIt's not that I don't think he'd be good,â you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. âI just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friendsââ
âSuit yourself,â she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. âNow, are you going to dance with me or not?â She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.
You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.
Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.
You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.
You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.
The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.
You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.
âI'm Shawn,â he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.
âDo you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drinââ
âThere you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,â a voice booms from behind you.
Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.
âMust not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,â you jab back with a smug smile.
âSorry, I didn't mean toââ Shawn says as he starts to back away.
âNo worries, bud,â Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.
âTook you long enough,â you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. âGet bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?â
He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.
âMaybe,â his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.
âOr maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.â
Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.
He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.
At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.
âHasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?â
âIs it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?â He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.
âSo what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?â You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.
You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.
âLet me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.â
âYou seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,â you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.
He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.
His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.
His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.
If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.
âWhat do you say?â he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. âAre you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?â
âI say show me the way.â
He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.
Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.
He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.
The very last door opens without a hitch.
Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.
Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.
You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.
He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.
You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.
He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.
You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.
He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.
You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.
âFuck, Bucky,â you cry against his mouth.
âYou're so fucking wet for me, you know that?â He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.
You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.
You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -
âI want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckinâ nobody touch you,â he says in a low voice next to your ear. âI want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.â
His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.
He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.
âTurn around and lean over the desk,â he instructs you, soft but authoritative.
You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.
You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.
He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.
He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.
God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the doorâŚ
Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.
You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.
His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.
âYou know,â he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. âWhen I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.â He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.
It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.
You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.
When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.
âWhat was it you said?â He asks in mocking contemplation. âYou had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?â
âI think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.â You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.
He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.
It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.
âCouldn't help myself,â he smiles softly when he pulls away. âJust had to kiss you one last time.â
You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.
You clear your throat. âWe should probably go find Sam and Natasha,â you say, giving him a small smile in return. âI'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.â
You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.
Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.
âĄâĄâĄâĄâĄ
i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them đ¤
as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#my writing#flowersforbucky
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Can you write kinich x reader smut
ââââ i w'na ride?!
đđ synopsis. whatever position he wants >_o
đđ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader(?) see this however u want cuz in som of the bullets i use boobs or discreetly mention chests (kinich is also a lowk perv)
đđ director's notice. i'll explain why he'd like this trust me, !!nsfw content ahead!!
inspired by the moments where he kept hitting the pose where his hands behind his head plus the one scene where he sat in a tree with his hands behind his back (or maybe i'm imagining things.)
kinich who reluctantly visits the beach(es) plus hot springs in the toyac springs region because mualani says you both need it, seeing as how much you both work beside each other, you'll definitely need a nice bath! especially the rumors of the heated conditions the springs seem to excrete.
kinich who no matter how long you and him have met each other, he'll never get used to seeing you in a bathing suit. even when you both were still kids fooling around on the beach with mualani. the atmosphere back then has almost never changed, walking along the sandy coast, feeling each little particle fall over your toes, the sun roughly about to set, the scenery was a sight to behold!
now that you both were older.. he would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you, your way of fighting, your appearance, how well you compliment him, it was almost like a corrupt addiction. even ajaw mentions how cheesy it is each time he sees kinich looking at you, whether it be lust or love in his green eyes.
mualani was overjoyed to hear that you've never gone out to swim, especially in the temperature she's usually in. kinich decides to tag along, totally not because he definitely wouldn't mind seeing you in different swimsuits/trunks.
kinich who you didn't mind letting him stay outside the changing room while you put on different suits while mualani actually help you choose (unlike someone who just kept ogling his eyes at you)
mualani who chose something that revealed more than appropriate portion of your skin (which was a lot, and imagine this similar to the one lumine wore!!), kinich who couldn't stop eyeing you up and down, ajaw teasing with digital sunglasses over his face; "y'know sunglasses help cover up what you're tryna look at!"
cue kinich smacking bro away again :pray:
you only got more attractive in his eyes. watching how you walk up to him, holding out a bottle of sunscreen to him, asking if he'd put some on your back before you'd go surfing on mualani's shark.
kinich didn't wanna admit but he was a little more than just turned on while spreading the lotion over your shoulders and back down to your back, his calloused hands feeling you up and down..
kinich who felt a little guilty but couldn't help but always slowly let his view dip down to your ass. shit he could already imagine what it'd look like without that last piece of clothing. too bad he can't rip it off you right here and now.
kinich who ran his hands around your chest, your sides, every curve that you wouldn't suspect him from.. he could already feel the tent in his pants rise.
kinich who couldn't resist looking at your pretty body through the blurriness of the water, almost forgetting to swim back up from being a little more than distracted. only coming back up after mualani mentions he's the winner of holding their breath underwater challenge.
a sigh of relief.. or maybe pleasure rather remembering yesterday on how close he got to be to you, palming his erection with hurriedness, thinking of how soft you felt under his fingers, only a thin layer of sunscreen that wouldn't make it weird between you both, kinich catches himself moan your name quietly in the changing room before he goes back out to you and mualani for day two of your summer break of 5 days in total.
sitting under the comfortable shade of an umbrella he brought, putting sunglasses on to rest for a bit before going in the water, or at least that is what it looks like. in all real reality, he was taking sneaky glances at you from less than appropriate angles, he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.
kinich could barely hold himself back for the next 2 days, wherein you all toured around mualani's hometown (for the sixtieth time, but then again it never gets old seeing a different culture every now and then!)
on the last day of your adventures with mualani, she offers for you both to finally bask in the warmth of the hot springs! the natural wonder of her home! kinich was reluctant at first, but agreed seeing how you were just oh-so happy to oblige.
this time, mualani got you a different swimsuit, one muuuuuchhh more revealing this time. it's clear now that she knows kinich's little crush on you, and now she knew that you liked him back.
mualani who coincidentally forgot the milk, and silly snacks she baked earlier that morning, oh would you look at the time! i guess she has to go get them... kinich who lowkey panicks, he already is a little flustered from your new look (but manages to quickly cool himself down)
kinich who is gentle while letting you slowly dip your feet into the water, this wasn't his first time here but he knew it was yours, stepping into the water first while holding your palms softly.
you two finally both sit in the springs comfortably, right in front of him, talking about whatever you and mualani did while he sunbathed (under an umbrella). building sandcastles and such.
"ahhh... kinichhhh! you should've been there. i would've wanted you there at least, dunno about mualani-" it felt like almost immediately his trunks tightened.. maybe he got the wrong size?
oh but the sound of you verbally saying you needed him definitely is a huge turn on. well you didn't necessarily say 'need' but you definitely wanted him there, good enough.
kinich who already has you straddled on top of him, directly on his boner, fuck he could feel it already. his hands are already on your hips letting you grind over his erection, this felt better than he could've ever fantasized of!
kinich who lets you ride him, the water you both were already surrounded only made it sound all the more dirtier. it didn't help that the sly little smile on your face, all he could do was bury his face into an arm of his own, looking away from you.
kinich whose hands were in his hair, intertwining with every little strand, the flush on his face only worsened each time you bounced on it, he could barely make eye contact with you, not because he didn't want you.. ohh it was because he thinks if he did he'd come immediately!!
kinich who holds you close as his climax comes closer as well, holding you tight in his embrace, he could feel your warmth, your skin, your everything, all he could was quickly drift his calloused palms back down to your hips, making sure no drop of cum was waaaasssttteeedddd
you could see how good you made him feel, even with just a sneaky, yet lustful glance, yet plop plop plop is all you can hear echoing throughout the cave, your hands propped up on the wall as kinich pushed against your back, his grunts only getting louder, eager to please you. seeing how your eyebrows knotted
kinich who felt intoxicated as hell in your scent, almost breathless as his head fits into the empty slot right beside your collar, fire pooled down inside your abdomen as you slowly reached your peak, watching how beautifully your eyes rolled back, feeling warm semen shoot up in your stomach. holy shit were you a beauty to see.
the musky scent of sweat mixed with the warm water below you both, kinich could still feel you clench harshly on his cock, even after release, fixed & still processing what you both had just done.
kinich who brings you out the bath, wrapped in a towel, bridal style and all, before mualani can come back with the milk and snacks- "hey what is that white stuff mixed in the water- what did you two do?!"
kinich who holds your hand while you both stroll throughout the shops opened up at nighttime, the constellations in the sky connected like it was used to it, the fresh scent of grilled fish was clear in the air's aroma, filling everyone's noses, mualani couldn't just give all this fish just to you two anyway!
kinich who fully confessed his feelings to you, no sex no lust, just him wanting you to sense how much he's been longing for you, in hopes you'd reciprocate it. in which you did with open arms!
m: "aha! i knew it! you both finally told each other you like each other didn't you!!", k: "no need to shout.", y/n: "i suppose!"
mualani will stop teasing for now, and let you two be, just with each other as the stars reflect off the light you've shone into his life.
kinda cringe might delete :100:
#ââââ resin: performances#ââââ resin: custom play#genshin impact x reader#genshin drabbles#genshin headcanons#genshin impact scenarios#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin impact fanfiction#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x you#genshin smut#genshin x gn reader#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact#kinich x reader#kinich smut#kinich x reader smut#genshin impact kinich#kinich x you
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Cardinal
Pairing: Logan Howlett ("Worst" Wolverine) x f!reader
Rating: Explicit (for themes and smut).
Word count: 16.6k
Summary: At the edge of the world, someone from another keeps you from stepping off.
Tags/Warnings (Please, read the warnings!!): Post-Deadpool & Wolverine, female reader (female anatomy etc + 2 mentions of hair long enough to fall into your eyes), strangers-to-lovers, depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt and mentions thereof, addiction, drinking alcohol, drugs (mentioned not used), panic attacks, sobriety meetings, anxiety, recovery, co-dependency vibes, sprinkles of soulmateism, explicit smut (oral and unprotected PIV), happy ending (yay!!). If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Notes: Deadpool and Wolverine re-triggered my X-Men obsession and what started as a means to write some smut actually became this idea about two broken people who shouldn't even have met in the first place finding each other. There's a lot of me in this story, more than there's ever been I think. I'm sorry for this glimpse into my head, and I'm sorry if this isn't as Reader-insert as it should be, but... I'm not that sorry, you know. Huge thanks to @javier-pena , for not only reading this over and fixing so many embarrassing mistakes, but also for saying she'd read this even if it was 20k words and always believing in my abilities as a writer, even when I sometimes didn't.
If you want to read the smut as a standalone, you can! Just CTRL + F (or search in page) for 'Logan reaches for' and read away.
THE LOOKOUT
With closed eyes, you inhale the cool, December air, before looking down at your feet. Here, at the edge of the lookout, the grass has been trampled. You imagine friends taking bets on who dares get closest to the edge, lovers making memories, families taking pictures. Itâs strangely soothing that maybe youâre not the first to stand here to do this.Â
Far below your feet, the water laps at the rocks. The force of it depends on the weather and tonight itâs violent, with big splashes and crashing sounds. The wind tugs at your coat, pulling you towards the water as if to help you along, making you look up again as you hold your balance. In front of you, the line of the horizon is dark but visible â it would have been impossible to make out if the moon hadnât been as bright as it is.
Itâs like youâre looking at the edge of the world.
During the weeks that fall had made way for winter, you scoped the place out a couple times. The first time you stood at this cliffâs edge, the place it took you to mentally scared you so much that you got back into your car and broke down in tears. The next couple times, things became more and more serious, as your life crumbled around you, and your feelings numbed, and nothing seemed to matter anymore.
Something had crept in while you werenât looking, settling somewhere behind your eyes and spreading out to make a home behind your ribs, slowly but surely changing you. And once you realized it, it was already too late. It had grown large, became jilted and jealous, like it wanted all of you. It pushed away everyone and everything you held dear, until it was just you and that⌠something.
Especially during the quiet of the night, the lookout became soothing, a strange sense of familiarity enveloping you each time you were here. It was addictive and pretty soon, it became a daily routine to visit. But lately itâs been losing its shine, your feelings here dulling and darkening too. Youâre exhausted, fed up, tired of giving it more of you.
Today you want it to be your last time here.Â
Youâve had countless hours to contemplate what it would be like, imagined â all but romanticised â how the cold water would paralyse your limbs if the impact wouldn't do the trick. You read somewhere that itâs apparently like falling asleep when the water finally fills your lungs. Youâll be gone, but the thing will be too.
The thought makes your eyes fill with tears, but not from fear. All you feel is relief, like itâs right, how itâs supposed to be. It makes you smile despite everything, andâ
âHey, stop!â
A voice behind you thunders through the silence and makes you shriek into the night, dirt toppling over the edge of the lookout below the shuffle of your foot. A string of curses follows, heavy footfalls behind you indicating that the intruder is approaching you.
âFuck off!â you throw over your shoulder, your voice a roar with how itâs amplified by the wind.Â
After, your throat closes up, fighting the angry tears over the fact that you canât even fucking kill yourself in peace. Never have you seen anyone here at night, never. What you hate even more is how it breaks your momentum. The haze that was surrounding you is pierced, and your bodyâs baser instincts kick in. Adrenaline suddenly pumps through your veins, making your legs tremble, your heart hammer, your body scream for you to step back from where youâre standing. Your anger, however, has you nailed to the floor.Â
You almost miss the much softer, âHey,â as a man steps into your peripheral vision. You pretend like you donât hear him, or see him â you simply pretend he isnât there, focussing on getting back into your previous mindset.Â
But then he takes his hands out of his pockets.
âDonât fucking touch me,â you warn, hating how your voice comes out trembling â weak.
âEasy.â He holds his hands up in surrender. âWasnât planning on it.â
You stand there together for what feels like hours. You will yourself to not let it affect you, setting your jaw to keep your teeth from clattering on account of the cold, allow the wind to blow your hair into your eyes without brushing it away. Even when it begins to rain, you donât move, donât blink even once more than you need to. From the corner of your eye you watch the man shove his hands back in the pockets of the brown leather jacket heâs wearing, and you quietly celebrate that your surroundings are fazing him more than they are you.
âYou knowââ he begins.
âIâm not really looking for a conversation.â
âMe neither,â he immediately counters, suddenly impatient, âso Iâll get right to it: You planning on jumping? Because if you think the waterâs gonna be nice to you, youâve got that wrong. Youâll end up in there feeling everything, that fall isnât gonna do shit.â
Having expected a gentle approach, his bluntness and his tone knock the wind out of you. You cock your jaw, the shame creeping up your body the first bit of warmth youâve felt in a while. Your cold fingers ball to fists as you will yourself not to care. Yes, his words and the way he's shatterĂng your expectations with them sting, but you donât even know this guyâ
âAnd thereâs nothing fuckinâ peaceful about it, itâs just panic. Right before you go too farâŚâ He raises a fist and holds it against the center of his chest, â...thereâs this burning right here thatâs hell.â
âAnd what makes you such an expert?â you finally spit out.
âDied like that a couple times,â he says without waiting a beat.
The casual statement of something so bizarre beats your resolve before you know it, your head turning in his direction. ââA couple timesâ?â
âI, uhâŚâ You watch him hesitate, the moonlight illuminating the tick of his jaw, the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way his chest falls as he sighs, âLetâs just say I canât die.â
Before you can stop yourself, you snort at that. âThat must fucking suck.â
He barks out a laugh, âGot that right.â It startles you when his head suddenly turns to you, when he looks you in the eye for the first time. âBut trust me, being down there isnât much better.â
Thereâs something in the way he looks at you that makes you waver. You canât really place it, or decipher why it makes you want to open up to him. Maybe itâs because youâre freezing and itâs your body betraying you, tricking you into moving so you can generate some warmth, moving your lips to keep them from going blue. Or maybe itâs simply because heâs a stranger and itâs so much easier to be honest when there are no consequences.
âThings just feel soâŚ,â you begin, voice shaky. Every possible way to end the sentence crosses your mind, seemingly all wrong, before you settle on whatâs closest to how you feel, âendless.â
To your relief, he doesnât say anything. Doesnât tell you to give it time that it will get better, or any of the other bullshit youâve heard from all the other people that had been in your life and left a long time ago. You do find something else in the shift in his eyes, something you havenât encountered before.
Understanding.
It might be worse. If anything, itâs overwhelming, making your eyes dart away from his as you sniff.Â
The wind still tugs at you, the waves still hit the rocks, but your moment seems to have passed. Itâs a sobering conclusion, a twisted version of wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe it was him who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, the outcome is the same.
You take a step back, and another, but it takes considerable effort; you hadnât taken your numb legs into consideration. You stumble, falling back on the dewy, cold grass, not quick enough to catch yourself on your hands. With a groan, you move to sit upright.
âShit. Hey, you still with me?â The stranger kneels next to you, fingers lifting your chin to look into your eyes. âJesus, youâre fucking freezing.â
âNo s-sh-hit,â you retort.
He sighs, offering you a hand so he can pull you up. âCâmon, let's get you warmed up.â
â â â â â
Logan.
Thatâs his name.Â
Itâs how he introduced himself, anyway, after he suggested you follow him. To his credit, he did offer to drive you, but you didnât want to leave your car in the parking lot of the lookout. Logan waited 15 minutes for you while you put the blowers on the highest, warmest setting and waited for the feeling to return to your limbs. After, his brown truck led the way here â here being some hole in the wall, 24 hour diner. You could have not followed, but the drive was kind of mesmerizing; the night seemed darker than usual, and Loganâs tail lights served as a lighthouse.
Outside, the diner is all Christmas lights and flashing signs, but the interior is like something straight out of Twin Peaks; booths to the left, red barstools to the right, a girl that looks too pretty and too young to be here standing behind the counter. There were two other patrons you spotted along the way as Logan led you to one of the back booths. Once seated, Logan studied the pamphletsâor pretended to, more like, because as soon as the waitress came up he ordered two whiskeys and nothing else.
Between then and now, as you nursed your drink sip by careful sip, you hadnât learned much more about him other than that he could knock back a glass of whiskey like he got paid to do so. And in truth, you like it this way; preferring silent company, the droning of the machinery behind the counter and the quiet hum of a song on the jukebox next to the entrance. The white noise helps to distract from the white noise in your head. Settling back into the leather cushions of the booth, you let some warmth seep back into your body. Opposite you, Logan does the same.Â
Some moments after you finish your drink, one of the waitresses walks up to your booth to ask you about a refill, like sheâs asked Logan twice now. Youâre handing her the glass when Logan says, âSheâs had enough.â
Your head whips from her to him. âExcuse me?â
He doesnât say anything, and from the corner of your eye, you see the girl leave. With your glass. Loganâs is on his lips, his eyes observing you over the rim, looking at you like heâ Dammit. You sigh deeply, a sense of anger filling you. You donât need this, least of all from him. When you stand from the booth, those eyes follow you, making you voice your observations,
âQuit pitying me, Logan.â
âIâm not,â he says before taking another sip. âYou still have to drive.â
You quirk an eyebrow at him. âAnd you donât?â
Logan shrugs. âItâs different for me.â
Anger is still prevalent in your voice when you ask, âWell, let me guess, itâs another case of âI died like that a couple timesâ?âÂ
He hums.
âAnd how does that work?â
âRegenerative ability,â he sighs. Another sip before he elaborates, âX-Gene.âÂ
The admission makes you plop back down in your seat. Well, that explains things â heâs a mutant. Youâre not familiar with that world, but you know enough to know it meant that. It isnât like you couldnât have deduced it before, but truthfully, you kind of thought he was bullshiting you as part of some tactic. Now, his actions and words make more sense: He really knows what itâs like to... Thatâs why he had that look on his face. Suddenly, you see him in a different lightâ
âNow whoâs pitying who, hmm?â Logan asks, giving you a thin-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he sets his glass down on the table.
âIâm not, Iâm just⌠processing. So this...â you lift his glass, swirl the contents around, â...doesnât even affect you?â
âIt does. For a few seconds.â He plucks the glass back from your hand, and throws the whiskey back with one gulp. His pupils dilate, pushing the hazel of his irises out until his eyes are almost black for a second, two⌠before going back to normal. âBut if I chugged the bottle, Iâd pass out.â
âWell, so would I,â you say with a chuckle. âSo maybe weâre not that different after all.â
Just as the corner of his mouth lifts, your smile falls, because⌠it isnât true; youâre very different. Youâre pretty sure you donât have what it takes to do what he did tonight. To care enough to do it. To sit with a stranger and hear them bitch and moan about being denied a drink. A feeling creeps up on you, sticky and uncomfortable, like youâve overstayed your welcomeâburdened him.
âI should head home,â you say, standing again.
Lightning fast, Loganâs hand shoots out to close around your wrist. âThat really where youâre going?â
âYes,â you reply. When you pull your hand back, he doesnât let up. You fish your car key out of your pocket with your free hand, voice tighter when you say, âLet me go.â
âJust promise me something,â he says, eyes as dark as theyâd been earlier, yet his drink has gone untouched since. âDonât go back there again.â
âNot making promises I canât keep,â you say, giving him a wry smile. âTo strangers, but least of all to myself.â
He sighs, and lets you pull yourself from his hold.
THE CRAVING
New Years comes and goes, and you quickly discover that it was foolish superstition to think that it might change how you feel.
You find yourself in some club, a drink in each hand. You hate to admit it, but Loganâs words scared you out of your original idea and the only time you can bear to think of how to move on from it is when alcohol soothes the embarrassing grief of your shattered, macabre fantasy. Itâs not a good way to deal with things, but it works.
Thereâs a part of you that welcomes feeling anything at all, but that⌠something inside you is busy trying to squash it.Â
Itâs getting somewhere, because you have no idea how much youâve already had to drink, but youâre buzzing pleasantly. Adding to it, you knock both drinks back, slamming the glasses on the bar before spinning around and facing the crowd of dancing bodies. The music sucks, the dance floor is cramped, youâre tired⌠The truth is that youâre too old for this, but itâs easy to escape here, surrounded by strangers. You clumsily drag the back of your hand over your wet mouth, push your sweaty hair from your eyes, and join them.
The past couple weeks, you found yourself craving something. Contact. And here is where you can get your fill; a hand on your waist, lips on your ear, the music too loud and yourself too drunk to even comprehend whatâs being said, but never more. You want them to get close, but never too close.
After some time â could be an hour, could be 10 minutes â you make your way to the bathroom. Itâs quieter here, the dulled thump of the music making the time you spend there feel slow and syrupy.Â
When you exit the stall, you bump into someone.
Itâs a man. The dark hood over his head obscures his eyes, but you canât help but think heâs looking right at you when a bright, almost unnatural grin appears on his face. It draws you in like a magnet, more so when he says, âNeed something to take the edge off?âÂ
Curiously, you watch as he opens his palm, long fingers unfurling slowly until they reveal a small plastic bag in his hand.Â
âFirst timeâs on the house.â
You have no idea what it is exactly, but your eyes widen. This is new territory for you, and all the possibilities it opens up are suddenly invading your mind. As if on auto-pilot, you reach for the place where you keep your money, the sound of the door opening completely lost on you.
A hand closes around your bicep, pulling you aside with a quick yank of an arm.
âShe isnât interested, pal.âÂ
Itâs another man, who effortlessly tucks you half behind him. Before you can protest beyond an indignant huff, thereâs a sound, like a sword being unsheathed, and you catch a flash of red, and of knives. Frowning, you try to get a better look, but your view is obscured by the manâs shoulder. The hooded man seems undeterred, regarding the weapons with the same sickening grin, before leaving the bathroom, muttering something that you donât understand on the way out. The sword sound returns, the man twists around, andâ
âLogan?â you slur in disbelief.Â
Logan doesnât reply, instead takes hold of your arm again, making you follow him out of the bathroom. There he stops the two of you to murmur something to a woman wearing the same clothes as him, before tugging you along again. Youâre stumbling after him on account of his pace and the iron grip he has on you as he leads you to the back door. He pushes it open with enough force to make the hinges creak, a gust of wind blowing in your face. Itâs a contrast to go from the crowded, sweaty club to the silent, cold back-alley where tall brick walls and employee cars cage you in. You shake your arm and Loganâs grip loosens â another and he lets you go.
âHow did you even findââ You cut yourself off, eyes widening, âOh, my god, are you following me?â
Logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes. âOh, please, do you think I have time to follow you around all day?â
âYouâre here, arenât you? You and your fuckingâŚ,â you gesture wildly into the air at him, âsavior complex.â
âI work here,â he growls. When you give him a look, he adds, âItâs temporary. âSides, me and my savior complex are the reason that creep isnât selling god knows what to you in that bathroom right now!â His voice is a roar, echoing off the walls around you.
âMaybe I wanted that creep to sell god knows what to me in that bathroom,â you say, doing a poor impression of his voice, before turning and walking away from him.
Logan sighs. âWhere are you going?â
âIâm leaving.â
âAnd then what, huh?â
âI donât fucking know, Logan,â you say, twisting around to face him again, arms spread out by your side. âFigure out a new way out of this.â
âYeah? Third timeâs the charm?â
âWhy do you even care, huh? You donât even know me,â you say. Almost immediately, you let out a bitter laugh as your own words hit your ears, a sad realization dawning on you. âBut I guess that makes two of us.â
Itâs not like you expected him to, but he doesnât answer.
âYou know I used to like myself? I used to smile, I used to have friends, I used to be more sober than drunk. But this feeling, it takes⌠everything.â You raise a fist, hold it to the center of your chest. âIt takes everything I love, pushes away everyone I love, including myself. It eats me up, and wants more and more, until Iâm something Iâm not and until Iâm so far away from that version of myself, my old self, that it feels easier to just fuckingââ you pause with a wet gasp for air.
âDestroy yourself,â Logan finishes for you.
Your chest heaves, an unshed tear clings to your lash line. âExactly.â
He takes a step closer to you. âLet me take you home,â he says, voice gentle.Â
You should hate the implications of that gentleness, but you donât. In your drunk state of mind, itâs easier to admit itâs nice that someone understands, that someoneâs there to stop you from going too farâŚÂ
Tomorrow, when some of your pragmatism returns, youâll deny this embarrassing thought ever occurred; if relying on other people worked, it would have worked a long time ago, and you wouldnât be standing here with him. If youâre lucky, you might even forget this entirely, and wake up with a hangover that youâll enjoy a little too much because it feels like a punishmentâ
âWhat about your job?â you ask with a sniff.
Loganâs palm finds the space between your shoulder blades with a gentle push, the warmth of it seeping in through your clothes, and he leads you to his truck. âTheyâll manage without me.â
â â â â â
When you wake, your world is tilted sideways, a blanket is pulled up to your chin and there's a pillow under your head. Theyâre not your own; the blanket is itchy and the pillowâs too small. When you try to move your legs, they stick uncomfortably to the material below them, and you realize youâre on a leather couch. You squint at the light that comes in from a window across from youâ
âMorninâ, sunshine.â
The voice startles you, eyes shifting to focus on the source: A man lying on his front on the floor, chin in his hands as he kicks his feet back and forth in the air.Â
âWish I could say itâs a pleasure, but it hasnât been very pleasurable. Youâve been barfing up the place since the moment you stepped inside. Kept poor Al up all night. Her ears are sensitive,â he adds with a whisper. âBut donât worry, she left about an hour ago.â
âWho are you?â you slur, blinking against the light.
âLogan.â He sighs when you frown. âI know, not how you remember. This is what I look like during the day; blessed with incredible good looks at night and, well,â he gestures at his face thatâs covered in scars, "this, during the day. Bit of a reverse Princess Fiona situationââ
âCut it out, Wade,â comes the sharp protest from next to you. With considerable effort, you turn your head and see the actual Logan, slumped back in a recliner next to the couch, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes while motioning for the other man to go.
âIâll let you two talk.â Wade winks.
Logan stands when Wade does, walking from your field of view. Your head is scrambling to catch up, trying to piece together what happened last night, but only coming up with bits and pieces.
âHow are you feeling?â Logan asks as he makes his way back to you, handing you a glass of water.
You flinch when the front door closes behind Wade with a bang, before taking the glass from Logan and taking a few thankful sips. âLike shit.â
âYeah,â is all he says as he sits back down.
âWhatââ
âYou fell asleep in the car. Didnât know where to take you, figured the couch was the safest place.â
âOhâŚ,â you say, voice small.Â
You try not to think about being so wasted that you had to be carried out of Loganâs car, or about what Wade said earlier about the things that happened as soon as you stepped inside the apartment. During your silence, Loganâs fingers fiddle with the armrest, before his hand balls into a fist, and it unlocks something in your hazy memory.
âI have the weirdest memory of you having⌠a sword?â
You watch as Loganâs lips purse in amusement. His tongue rolls around in his mouth, seemingly contemplating something, before saying, âYou probably saw these.â He holds up his fist, flexing his forearm before three blades shoot from between his knuckles like claws, accompanied by a shing!
âJesus fucking Christ,â you startle, spilling some water on your blanket. Your head spins with your hangover and the bizarity of the situation. If it didnât sound so much like how it did in your memory, you might think you were still drunk.Â
Thereâs so many things you want to ask, your intrigue almost winning out over your hangover until the sharp start of a headache gives you pause. Instead, you take another sip of water before rubbing your temple.
âItâs a story for another time,â Logan says, like he can read your mind, and you want to ask him that, too. His claws retreat, the cuts they leave between his knuckles immediately smoothing over until theyâre gone. âI gotta go check if I still have a job.â
The words make you feel warm all over, the memory of your back-alley conversation coming back in full force. The thought of the things you admitted to him and that you put him in the position that he had to risk his job for you make you feel even warmer, your gaze no doubt laced with embarrassment and worry when you look at him.
ââS not your fault,â Logan assures, standing and fishing his car key from the pocket of his jeans. âYou donât have to rush but um, make sure you close the door behind you on the way out. Gets jammed sometimes.â
âYeah, okay,â you say, watching as he makes his way to the front door.Â
He takes a final glance at you over his shoulder, then leaves, accompanied by a bang.
THE PUZZLE
It takes you a little over a week to muster up the courage to go back. Admittedly, your courage is aided by another, foreign feeling. You donât have a name for it yet, or maybe youâre afraid to call it what it is, but somewhere along the week, you became consumed with the thought that feeling like you did wasnât all there was. That there is something beyond this.Â
Perhaps foreign wasnât the right way to describe it, because it is something youâve felt before â itâs just been long dormant. The last time, it lasted about a month before it all came crashing down, and you swore you wouldnât fall for it again, but you canât help it. The feelingâs too sweet, and the idea that thereâs still some baser instinct willing you to keep fighting for yourself makes you feel like the sun is shining on you.Â
So yeah, maybe youâre just having one of your good weeks, where the thing sleeps â quiet while its presence still simmers. But you figured nowâs your chance to take advantage of its unguarded moment.
Sneaking into the building is surprisingly easy. It helps that it isnât anything fancy. You wanted to forego the humiliation of ringing the bell and him not letting you in, but standing in front of the door now, panting after climbing three flights of stairs, you donât know if this is much better.Â
Just when youâre about to knock, the door swings open. In the opening, Logan has one arm in his jacket, head twisted to watch the other thatâs caught halfway in the sleeve. It takes him almost bumping into you to realize your presence. âShit, sorry.â He steadies himself with a hand on your arm, the touch leaving you as fast as it appeared.
âHi,â you breathe, taking a step back to give him a little more space.
He nods in greeting. âBrings you here?â
It takes you a moment, caught off guard by him skipping over pleasantries and cutting right to the chase, despite your best intentions; itâs not that heâs ever been any different in his interactions with you.
âI came by because I, um, owe you an apology, for my behavior at your workplace and for, you knowâŚ,â you trail off, gesturing at the door.
âBarfing up the place!â comes a shout from inside the apartment.Â
Loganâs eyes close with a sigh, before he steps into the hallway with you and closes the door with a bang.Â
âThat,â you finish sheepishly. âIâm really sorry.â
He nods in acknowledgement.
âI also wanted to ask, um, if you want to come with me to get a coffee. To make it up to you.â
Logan just looks at you, the leather of his jacket creaking as he crosses his thick arms in front of his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly. You hate how he somehow can see right through you, how he makes you elaborate, and honest.
âI want to quit drinking,â you say, fiddling with the sleeve of your coat. âIt doesnât make me better, and when I donât do it I finally feel a little⌠normal. Maybe coffeeâs technically just as bad, but itâs the only thing thatâs currently acting like⌠like a reverse gateway drink? And I feel like youâre the only person I know that might get that feeling ofââ
âI do,â Logan cuts in, voice softer than before â assuring. His arms drop from where theyâre crossed and he starts making his way to the stairs. âLetâs go.â
â â â â â
You donât know this coffee place, and from the way he looks around and shifts around in a chair that might be a bit too small for him, neither does Logan. Main reason you picked it is because the booths remind you a little too much of a bar â and you like the tall windows. The coffeeâs pretty decent.
âDid they fire you?â you ask, picking at a loose corner of one of the laminated menus before setting it back in its holder.
âBoss commended me for helping a customer, but not so much for leaving before my shift ended,â Logan replies. âGot off with a warning.â
âIâm sorry.â
âSaid that already, and I accepted,â he says. When he takes a sip of the coffee, he winces. âNo need to worry about it anymore, okay? I would do it again.â
You nod, folding your hands around the warm cup in front of you.
âBut, um, Wade hasnât shut up about⌠the incident.â Thereâs a different tone to his voice, like heâs trying to lighten the mood. âHis words.â
âYou know, I kind of get the feeling that Wade doesnât shut up about a lot of things.â It comes out a little meaner than you intend, but it makes Logan laugh and finally slump back in his chair a little.Â
âYouâre a quick study.â
Offering him a short smile in return, you continue with the other real reason you came to see him, before you chicken out. âI also stopped by because I wanted to, uh⌠because I realized I never really⌠I never⌠I never thanked you, for um⌠Andââ
With a shake of his head, Logan sits upright. âYâdonâtââ
To your horror, your eyes brim with tears, âLogan, Iâm supposed to be deadââ
âSo am I,â he counters. He lets the words hang between the two of you for a moment, until you look at him, before he continues, âIâve been where you are. Past it, even.â
You donât know what to say to that, if the lump in your throat will even permit you to speak, but itâs impossible to look away from him. Loganâs gaze is piercing, frown ever present, but itâs not from anger. Instead, itâs like heâs searching for something, the right thing, to say. The silence doesnât bother you; if anything, it makes his words seem more genuine when he does speak,
âI had someone who was annoying enough to not give up on me when I could really use it. If getting a coffee with you thatâs, franklyâŚ,â he makes a face as he pauses, âa horrible excuse for a coffee, helps⌠I can do that. I want to do that.â
The corner of your mouth lifts as you blink away your tears. âWas it Wade?â
Logan lets out a chuckle, and itâs honest â fond. âYeah.â
âFigured,â you say. âHow did you meet him?â
Across from you, Logan stills. You swallow thickly, adjusting yourself in your chair. Itâs an innocent question, but maybe it isnât something heâd like to revisit right now. Loganâs mug squeaks when he grips it tighter, and he looks at you with something like defeatâÂ
It makes you deflate. This must be what you looked like the night you metâŚ
Thereâs no way to have prepared for what he tells you next: That he came from another timeline about three months ago, that he and Wade saved this one from being destroyed and almost got killed in the process, that he has nothing to go back to after the death of his team, so he stayed here.Â
Thereâs hesitation in it, like he isnât telling you the whole story, though you donât comment on it. He doesnât owe you anything and youâre too busy putting all the pieces in the Logan-shaped puzzle in your mind together; his words and actions towards you are starting to make more and more sense.
âItâs a very brave thing the two of you did,â you say when heâs finished.
âHmm, it was all Wade,â Logan muses. âHe did it all for the people he cares about.â
âIâm sure you would have done the same if you were in his place.â
At that, he lets out a dry laugh with absolutely no joy behind it. âDo me a favor, donât put me on a pedestal.â
You frown, but before you can comment, he stands. A knot forms in your stomach, worried youâve offended him, but he clears up the uncertainty immediately.
âI gotta go but um, Wadeâs friendsâ,â he stops himself, correcting, âour friends are coming over to watch a movie, next week, 7:30. I have no idea what crap theyâre going to be watching but⌠itâs nice. Itâll be nice to be around good people.â Logan doesnât wait for your answer, simply takes his wallet from his pocket and leaves enough money to cover the bill.
âWait, no, I invited you,â you protest. âI shouldââ
âYou can pay next time.âÂ
When you nod, he says his goodbyes with a jerk of his head and makes his way to the door.
â â â â â
You see Logan two more times for coffee that week. He never lets you pay.
THE PANTRY
ââbut itâs the best one!â Wade protests, DVD in hand.
âThey fly a car into space, Wade,â Laura sighs.
âLaunched off a jet,â he corrects. Like it helps.
You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, hiding the smile that appears at everyoneâs babbling. Unbeknownst to you, you had found yourself invited to a double feature night, with Wade as the self proclaimed DVDJ. The credits had barely started rolling on A Good Day To Die Hard, or Wade had another DVD at the ready. It was met with the same amount of enthusiasm as when he presented the first.
It hadnât been easy to make yourself go to this tonight. On your way, youâd thought of turning around at almost every step. Of course, that was all before you knew it would be this fun, and that youâd be relieved you hadnât canceled last minute. Even meeting everyone hadnât been as bad as you feared.Â
Thereâs Peter, Wadeâs friend. Ellie, another one of Wadeâs friends. Yukio, Ellieâs girlfriend. Laura, Loganâs daughter. Mary Puppins, Wadeâs small, disgusting but adorable dog, who had greeted you with equal amounts saliva and enthusiasm, before falling asleep next to the TV, completely unbothered by the commotion. Unlike Althea, Logan and Wadeâs blind roommate, who had taken one listen to the gaggle of voices and left. The elusive Vanessa, Wadeâs ex-but-we-might-get-back-together you heard about a couple times, wasnât there.
Logan had been right, it was nice to be surrounded by good people. Especially good people who were⌠unconventional. It made joining them less complicated, less performative, and as the evening progressed it made you a participant instead of a silent observer. Wade even called you, âgood for the group dynamic,â and it made you beam with pride.
âDonât they have like, rockets attached to the car?â Ellie questions, to which Yukioâs eyebrows knit together.
âExactly!â Wade exclaims, mistaking her confusion for enthusiasm. âCitizen Kane wishes.â
Thereâs more grumbling from everyone when Wade pops the DVD into the player, and he grumbles something back about how Logan would back him up if he wasnât in the bathroom because he, quote unquote, goes way back with some of these dudes.
Youâre pretty sure heâs the only one who knows what heâs even talking about.
An empty bowl of popcorn rests in your lap, and as you put it on the table, you notice how sticky and greasy your fingers and palms are. When the opening credits begin to roll, you get up to wash your hands, assuring Wade he doesnât need to pause the movie before you go.
The apartmentâs small, so it isnât far to the kitchen, but itâs nice to stretch your legs. You can still hear the sounds from movie night; tell-tale action movie music, comments of disbelief and Wade shutting them down. Theyâre more faint, though, more so when you turn the tap on and wash your hands.
Right as youâre finished, you hear a dull thud. You turn the water off, head tilted and at attention while you dry your hands. Thereâs another sound, like a muffled groan. Itâs coming from the pantry, you realize, noting that the door is slightly ajar. Thereâs a shing! sound followed by a distressed grunt, and before you know it youâre walking over, wrapping your fingers around the door to pull it openâ
Youâre not sure what it was you were expecting, but it wasnât this. Loganâs sitting on the floor, uncharacteristically small, curled up against one of the walls. His chest is heaving, shoulders all but going up to his ears with how heâs trying to draw in breaths. Next to him, his fist is balled against the hardwood, claws buried in the floor.
Fuck.
Dropping to your knees, you wedge yourself between his. âItâs okay, youâre having a panic attack,â you explain, your hands landing on his shoulders with a light shake. âYou need to breathe. Iâll help you, just look at me.â
Loganâs head stays tipped down, a deep, rattling breath sailing from his mouth as he curls further in on himself.
âHey!â you say sharply, cupping his jaw with two hands and tilting his face up, âLook at me.âÂ
Loganâs eyes are wet when they meet yours, moving frantically as they search your face, tears spilling over when he blinks. Something changes in his gaze, like he finally sees itâs you, and his bottom lip begins to tremble. His hand lifts from where itâs buried in the floor, clutching onto your wrist like a lifeline.
âBreathe,â you instruct, trying not to flinch at the sharp claws in front of you. He doesnât catch on immediately, so you overdo the purse of your lips when you blow out a breath before exaggerating an inhale through your nose, showing him what to do. It starts off shaky, a fresh set of tears falling from Loganâs eyes as he does as you instruct, but after a couple of times you find a rhythm together. The silver between his knuckles slowly disappears. âThere you go, good job. Keep going.â
You sit like that, until the wild shift of his eyes stops, his pulse steadies beneath your fingertips, and eventually his eyes close with a deep exhale. His grip on you loosens and you take it as your cue to let go of him, slumping back against the wall opposite him with a sigh of relief. The both of you catch your breath, sitting together in silence until Logan breaks it.
âCame outta nowhere⌠suddenly I was back there⌠letting them down.â
âIt caught you off guard, it happensââ
âI let them get killed,â he says, voice raw. âThey were likeâ They were my family, they trusted me to be there for them and I⌠I was too caught up in my own bullshit. I should have been with them, I should be dead with them.â
Loganâs tears still come, but the words almost sound reverent; as if saying them out loud just to punish himself with his own shortcomings is a balm. Heâs talking about his team from there, you realize, and something clicks. All this time, you thought this was about him being unable to die due to his mutation, but itâs more than that. Itâs shame, remorse, grief, survivorâs guilt, all wrapped into one.
Itâs the final piece of your mind puzzle that makes his picture appear.
âHowâ How can I ever atone for that?â he asks. âHow can I everââ
âLogan, you can't change your past,â you interrupt carefully. âYou made your choices and they made theirs, and you honored them byâ byâŚstepping up to the task, by doing what you did with Wade.â
âWhat if it wasnât enough?â
âWhat if it was?â you counter. Your hand finds his knee with a squeeze, before adding, âYou did what they would have done. And now you⌠you need to allow yourself to honor their memory without feeling like you have to destroy yourself to do it. You deserve that.â
Logan blinks at you, eyes still glossy. He looks devastated yet calmer than before, like the emotion is still there, but displaced. For a good while, you sit with him like that while his sniffles lessen and his breathing returns to normal⌠until thereâs a loud explosion coming from the living room. Itâs followed by cheers and hollers, and youâre both suddenly reminded of where you are.Â
âCâmon,â you say, patting Loganâs knee before using it as leverage to haul yourself up with a groan. You give him room by holding the door open for him. âBetter get back before we miss the good stuff.â
Still on the floor, Logan exhales heavily. âThink this was the good stuff.â
â â â â â
Three weeks later, on your way to your third movie night, you catch Wade and Vanessa making out in the building hallway.Â
It stops you dead in your tracks and makes for an awkward meeting with Wadeâs mystery woman, who is beautiful but very direct when she asks you what the fuck youâre staring at. Wade certainly has a type when it comes to the company he keeps⌠He quickly shushes the situation, introducing the two of you, and it immediately makes Vanessaâs expression twist into recognition.Â
âNice to meet you,â she says, followed by an apologetic smile.Â
You respond in kind.Â
When Wade tugs at her jacket impatiently, they brush past you and make their way to the exit. âSee you around!â she throws over her shoulder.
A grin forms on your lips, realizing what you just witnessed, and you race up the stairs. With Wade gone, youâre not sure if there will be a movie, but at least you have gossip to share with your friends.
THE MEETING
April flies by, rolls into May, and thingâs are⌠okay.
With some help, you find a therapist. Itâs good, sheâs good, but itâs difficult to be confronted with things that are painful, week after week, and to keep reminding yourself itâs all part of the process youâre going through.
Last week, after a particularly difficult session, youâd left her office being auto-piloted by dark feelings, like they knew exactly when to strike. You had turned corners and crossed streets, wandering as you stewed on everything youâd discussed â like your mind was playing a constant loop of your most painful moments. It was a small miracle you had heard your phone, and that you had the presence of mind to thumb the green button.
Youâd answered without saying a word.
âGot any plans?â Logan had asked on the other side of the line.
âNo,â youâd replied, coming back to yourself a little bit at the sound of his voice.
âAlâs making her meatballs â she and Wade canât agree on if theyâre famous or infamous. Thought you might like to come. If it tastes like shit, weâll order in.â
Youâd hummed, managing to ask, âWhat time?â
It had stayed quiet on the other end, and thatâs how youâd known he was onto you, could picture the pinch of his brows, his lips forming a thin line. For the first time, you welcomed itâwanted so badly to reach through the phone, shake his shoulders, ask for his help and accept it, like he had done with you weeks ago.Â
âSounds to me like now might be good.â
âYeah,â you had agreed, the constricting tightness in your chest easing up. âYeah, Iâll be there soon.â Youâd released a shuddering breath, ear still pressed to the phone as you took in your surroundings before you auto-piloted yourself to a different destination.Â
âLogan?â
âStill here.â
âThank you for calling.â
ââcourse. Get here soon, Iâll stay on the phone.â
The afternoon had ended with Logan and yourself allowing Althea to boss you around in the small apartmentâs kitchen, rolling meatballs, sharing stories â Altheaâs recollection of something that happened to her in her 20s that involved her stealing a police horse while wearing nothing but a thong, made you cry from laughing.
The meatballs were the best you ever had, though you couldnât be sure if they actually were, or if it was just the taste of the moment that was better than anything had been that day.Â
Sometime after dinner, Logan had nudged your shoulder to show you a little plastic chip. He flashed it at you long enough that you could read the words one month, before he pocketed it again. Then he suggested you come with him next week.Â
âI thought it was bullshit too, but it helps,â heâd explained. âFigured I couldnât continue to drink whatever that stuff is you call coffee to⌠avoid my problems.â
You contemplated his suggestion. Things were going well for you in that regard, but your therapist had also recommended you go to one of these things, even if it was just for the community aspect of it. It just made it so⌠official. Your problems, but most of all, your recovery. You werenât good at keeping promises to yourself, and this felt like a big commitment. Not to mention the speeches and other peopleâs problems...
But as Logan told you more about it, the location, how it had been for him, you sensed something else between the lines: He wasnât just asking for you, he was also asking for himself. Maybe⌠this was his way of telling you he needed some support.Â
Thatâs how you find yourself inside a high school gymnasium a week later. Itâs as gloomy as you expected. Slick floors, gray fold-out chairs set in neat rows, buzzing lights in a high ceiling, and a slightly raised podium with a whiteboard that reads a welcome message in capital letters.Â
Unsure of what to do, you follow Logan as he weaves through the crowd to find a seat. As you do, it strikes you that thereâs a pretty even distribution of people, with many genders, ages and lifestyles represented. Eventually you take a seat; not quite in the back, but definitely not in the front.Â
The whole thing goes by in a blur, but where you expected to be overwhelmed, you feel⌠connected. Here you are, surrounded by people with different backgrounds, different lives, but all their stories have something you can relate to. Where you thought addiction was the common denominator, itâs actually the desire to turn your lives around that unites you the most.
âBefore we end the night I want to circle back to last week, when we spoke about goals, or things we want to work towards,â says the woman leading the meeting â youâre ashamed to admit you already forgot her name. âDoes anyone want to share something about that?â
It takes a lot to hide your surprise when Logan raises his hand.Â
âLogan! Come on up!â She sounds as surprised as you feel, beckoning him to her.
The plastic chair he sits on creaks when he stands and his boots squeak against the shiny floor as he does as she asks. He looks so out of place on a podium; both larger than life behind the lectern and lost to the space of the stage. He clears his throat as he retrieves a paper from his pocket and unfolds it while his eyes scan the room until they land on yours. You give him a little nod of encouragement, and it kicks him into gear.
âNot good at this stuff, so Iâm going to keep it brief,â he starts.Â
It earns him a chuckle or two from the other attendees, and you can tell he doesnât expect it when he looks up from his paper. Your hands clasp together with nerves as you watch him divide his weight from one leg to another, before focussing his gaze back down.
âMy life has changed a lot over the past few months. For the first time in a long time, itâs not all bad. Coming here has been good. Iâm starting to feel more like I did beforeââÂ
He stops his monotonous droning with a frustrated sigh, stuffing the piece of paper in his pocket and sounding considerably more lively after.Â
âI have people I care about again, and um, it scares me. âCause I donât want to let them down, and every day I feel like I will because of all of my⌠past shit.â He pauses and swallows hard before he continues, âThey show me so much kindness and understanding, that⌠that even though itâs fucking hard, I want to be able to see myself the way they see me. And allow them to care about me without feeling like I⌠have to earn it all the time, without destroying myself to do it.âÂ
You exhale for what feels like the first time in an eternity.
âSo, thatâs what Iâm currently working on.â Logan sighs. âThatâs it. Thank you.â
A small applause follows, and you quickly unclasp your hands to join in.
Your palms hurt after.
â â â â â
âIt was really nice, what you said in there,â you say, fingers caressing a little plastic chip of your own that you keep safe in your coat pocket. You havenât felt proud of yourself in a while, but tonight you do.
The evening is nice, the setting sun bathing the city in hues of orange and pink. Your pace is slow and comfortable, your arm occasionally brushing Loganâs when you make room for all the other pedestrians. You didnât plan on him walking you home, but he insisted and you enjoy the company â it makes you a little sad when you turn onto your street.
Logan scoffs in reply.Â
âIâm being serious,â you say, knocking your elbow against his arm on purpose now. âIt was nice for people to hear a guy like you say those things. Iâm proud of you.â
You swear he blushes. âA guy like me, huh?â he asks, almost amused.
Itâs your turn to scoff. âYou know what I mean.âÂ
âA mutant?â He looks at you from the corner of his eye.
âNo,â you say, because itâs not what you meant, but the hint of seriousness in his voice and the fact heâs not entirely wrong make you track back. âWell, maybe that, too, but I meant someone who looks like you, allowing themselves to be vulnerable. Sets a nice example.â
Logan doesnât shoot your comments down like you expect. Instead, he seems to consider your words, maybe he even silently accepts the compliment. âThink you have some things to say that could set a nice example, too.â
âMaybe next time.â
During the comfortable silence that follows, youâre reminded of something youâve been considering for weeks now. You hadnât paid much attention to it since that night, but as you worked through the feelings that got you to that point, the question kept coming back.
âIâve been wondering something,â you begin. âThe night we met... What were you doing at the lookout?â
Logan glances at you, contemplating the question. âWhen I had just, um, gotten here, it wasnât always easy to adjust, you know? So I went to all these places that I knew from back there, to ground myself, to see that things may be different, but that theyâre not that different.â
âYou went there on your side?â
He hums.
âBy yourself?â
He hums again.
âDid youâŚâ You hesitate to finish your sentence, both because youâre not sure if you have any right to ask and because youâve reached your building. You stop walking, and Logan follows your lead.Â
âNo, no, no, I⌠I canât explain it, itâs just one of those places I was always drawn to,â Logan says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans with a shrug. His brows furrow suddenly, his mind seemingly lost in something before his eyes flick back to yours. âThink it took me coming over here to find reason in it.â
Itâs a thought thatâs equal parts sad and lovely.Â
The silence that follows hangs between you, thick with something you canât place, but Logan doesnât look away from you, eyes scanning your face before they land back on yours. You canât help thinking that maybe this is how he does it, and the question comes out before you can help it,
âIs mind reading part of the X-Gene thing?â
His eyes widen â amusement or surprise, you canât say. âIt can be.âÂ
âCan you do it?â
âNo,â he says. âAnd itâs for the best, fucking hurts when you canât control it.â Then the start of a smile begins to form on his lips. ââsides, I donât know if I would have a lot of⌠consideration for peopleâs boundaries.â
It makes you chuckle. âRight. Not to mention some minds are probably a lot â imagine reading Wadeâs mind.â
âHurts to even imagine,â Logan says, gesturing for you to be quiet as he winces, but a smile breaks through anyway. When your shared laughter dies down, he jerks his chin at the building behind you, âThis your place?â
âWhaâ?â Going home long forgotten in the moment, you glance over your shoulder. âOh! Yes.â
âAll right,â he nods. âSee you next week?â
âDefinitely,â you reply.
âOh,â Logan says right before you turn around. âBring coffee? You owe me.â
You make a face at him. âYou donât have toâ Iâll get you something else, I know you donât like it.â
âI like it when I drink it with you.â
Itâs incredibly hard to hide your grin. âOkay, Iâll bring coffee. See you next week, Logan.â
âSee you.âÂ
He lingers, watching you climb the steps, waiting until the door opens after you turn your key in the lock. Itâs not until you close the door, when you can only make out his silhouette through the patterned glass window in it, that he walks off.
THE SUMMER
Walking back from a very successful job interview, you find yourself on your way to your friends with a big, plastic bottle of coke under your arm. Itâs a warm feeling to know that youâll soon have a job that suits you and that you have people to celebrate with; you look forward to seeing them and sharing this with them.
Youâre invited inside with open arms, tight hugs, exclaimed praise and congratulations, and it makes you giddy, a feeling so foreign that you wish you could bottle it up right this instant. With a grin, you shake the Coca Cola bottle, before twisting the cap off. You let out an excited shout as you watch the foam shoot out from the top, bubbles and dark liquid pulsing down the neck of the bottle as cheers surround you.
Itâs not champagne, but Althea grumbles about the soda ruining her floors, Wade gets mismatched glasses from the cupboard, and Logan clinks his glass to yours and tells you heâs proud of you.
Itâs way better than champagne.
â â â â â
Youâre in serious, desperate need of a new placeâŚÂ
The August heat is relentless, and the entire buildingâs AC isnât working. Itâs with considerable effort that you manage to make your way to your friendsâ place, the promise of a constant, cold stream of wind the only thing that keeps you going. But when the front door opens, it isnât with the welcoming, cool waft of air you were hoping for. Instead, thereâs no temperature change, only Wade in his underwear.
âNo.â Itâs a little embarrassing how you literally pout, but these are desperate times. âHere, too?â
âIf it wasnât this fucking hot Iâd be offended by that greeting.â He sighs. âCome in.â
Slightly defeated, you shuffle past the threshold, while Wade lingers. Mary Puppins trots by, an ice-pack wrapped in a towel secured on her back, and you catch a glimpse of Logan exiting the bedroom. Heâs in black shorts and a ribbed, sleeveless shirt, and with a desperate groan, he lets himself fall back into the recliner in the living room.Â
âTried everything, thereâs no fixing that fucking thing.â
Wade makes a face, âListen, I know what youâre thinking: Wadeâs in his underwear, Loganâs emerging from the bedroom⌠But we didnât fuck, itâs not that kind of stââ
âWho are you talking to?â you ask from behind him, glancing over his shoulder into the empty hallway.
âNo oneâYou!â The door closes with a bang.
Confused, you walk further into the apartment. âWell, telling me you didnât is just going to make me think that you did.â Wade darts past you and takes a seat on the couch, but you hang back and lean against the kitchen table to avoid sitting on leather.
Wade suddenly turns to face you. âDid I ever tell you about our time in The Void?â
âWade,â Logan warns.
Wadeâs eyes are sparkling with mischief and you canât deny how fun it is to indulge the way he pushes Loganâs buttons. Itâs a good distraction from how youâre drenched in sweat. And youâre actually curious.
You play your part, letting out a faux-scandalised gasp. âDid you..?â
âOh, yeah, baby. Wolverine goes both ways. All the ways, really.â He grins. âWeâre so alike.â
âShut up. Both of you.â Logan groans, lacking any real threat as he adjusts in his seat and wipes some sweat off his brow. âItâs too fucking hot to be annoyed.â
It isnât lost on you he doesnât deny a thing.
â â â â â
Apartments look weird with nothing in them.
Itâs what crossed your mind after you finished packing up your place three days ago, and it crosses your mind now as you look into the open space of your new one from the doorway. Itâs a pleasant, late summer day; perfect weather to move, which was on your schedule for today.
âIncoming!â comes from behind you, followed by quick, heavy steps.
You jump aside as Ellie sails through the door, carefully setting a big box marked âKitchenâ down in its designated area, followed by Logan who is balancing three boxes at once. After a beat, Yukio follows, holding a single table lamp in her hand. It takes some effort not to laugh, not just because of how funny it looks, but also because you relate; after all the exhausting late nights you pulled packing up, thatâs also the kind of energy youâre bringing to this.
Itâs nice of them to help, and instead of shoving that feeling away in fear, you allow yourself to bask in it. You donât get long, however, because more help has just arrived.
Wade. With Vanessa. Hands interlocked.
It draws everyoneâs eyes to the doorway. Wade looks almost bashful, and it baffles you how someone who can say the most insane things unprompted, all without batting an eye, could blush while holding hands with a girl he likes. To his credit, he shakes it off quickly.
âAll right, all right,â he says. âStop ogling me and my girlfriend and get back to work everyone!â
â â â â â
âSo it was like an experiment?â you ask, stirring the pot on your stove before taking a careful bite of food off your wooden spoon.
Tonightâs your first night hosting at your new place â Family Dinner, Wade had dubbed it. With fall setting in, you had an idea of what to make, but it still made you nervous to have everyone in your space. Logan saw right through you, offering to come over early to help you prepare.Â
Once he had arrived, it hadnât taken long for him to admit he wasnât much of a cook, so he mainly chopped vegetables as you chatted; you about your new place, Logan about his new job as a boxing instructor, Laura going off to college. You donât remember exactly how the subject of his adamantium came up, but he was telling you freely about it.
âThey needed someone who could regenerate fast enough to bond with it,â he explains. âI was in a dark place. Figured I didnât have anything to lose if it didnât work.â
You nod in understanding. âDo you⌠remember much about it?â You put your spoon down, then put the lid back on the pan.Â
Loganâs knife stops hitting the cutting board. âYeah, I⌠I remember every second of it.â
You look at him then. His eyes are still cast down at his task. Unsure of what to say, you think about what youâd want to hear, and you find it might be best to say nothing at all. Instead, your hand finds his shoulder. Loganâs head turns to you, and you feel like the look you share is more important than anything you couldâve told him. His hand covers yours with an appreciative squeeze.Â
âBut Iâm trying to leave that there so I can focus on remembering what happens to me here.â As soon as heâs said it, his hand quickly slips off yours, adding, in a rush, âHere in this timeline, I mean.âÂ
You smile at him, but a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. âThat sounds like a great idea.â
â â â â â
âI need your help with something,â you say, balancing your phone between your ear and your shoulder while you turn a birthday card over in your hand. Deciding you donât like it, you throw it back on the pile of cards and continue your grocery shopping.
âJust say the word,â comes Loganâs reply from the other end.
âI need you to steal something out of the apartment for me.â Thereâs a silence, and you purposely let the feeling of trepidation linger.
âAm gonna need you to say a little more than just that.â
You laugh, âWadeâs been talking about getting a little frame for his polaroid. You know, the polaroid that you held on to for him in The Void, after the two of you fuââ
âYes, I know the one,â he interjects with a huff. He pauses, sighs, then says, âConsider it done.â
THE PARTY
âThere you are!â Wade shouts after he opens the door. He pulls you into a hug that you return with a wide smile. Over his shoulder, you see that the apartmentâs crowded, bustling with people who are there for his birthday party.
âI got you something,â you say, offering the small package to him after you step inside and hang up your coat.
âWouldnât have let you in if you hadnât,â he admits as he closes the door behind you with a bang. Wade takes the package from your hand, shaking it next to his ear but hearing it make no sound in response. âIs it a cock ring?â
You canât help but laugh at that. âUnfortunately, they were all sold out.â
âThey always are,â he says, making a disappointed face. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you watch as he tears at the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. He makes another face when he sees it. âWell, now I feel like an asshole. This is really nice.â
âLogan helped me kidnap it,â you explain, pointing at the picture. âAnd the little red hearts on the frame, well, theyâre your color, but they also reminded me of how much you care about people.â
When he looks at you after, itâs with genuine emotion⌠but Wade is Wade. âNever thought Iâd say this, but Iâm kind of happy you walked in here barfing up the place.â
A strange mix of embarrassment and gratitude claws its way up your neck. âThank you.â
âWe should take a new one,â he decides suddenly, pointing at the picture. âYou both should be in it.â His head turns, watching as Logan approaches the two of you. âBut letâs be realistic, his shoulders are so broad he wouldnât even fit in the frame, much less his bulââ
âStop talking about my dick, Wade,â Logan snaps.
âI was saying only good things! Jeez, so sensitiveâŚâ Wade turns, putting the picture on the kitchen table behind him where it joins all the other gifts.
âDid he like it?â Logan asks, voice low.
âYeah,â you smile.
âGood,â he replies. âWas a nice idea.â
You eye all the other gifts, some clearer who they are from than others. âWhat did you get him?â
The corner of Loganâs mouth lifts as he points at a roll of silver duct tape with a small red bow on top, making you fix them both with a confused look.
âItâs an inside joke,â Logan shrugs.
Wadeâs eyes sparkle, but in a rare turn of events, he doesnât elaborate, only adds, âItâs classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.âÂ
âAnd I have top level clearance, lieutenant,â you reply. You exhale through your nose in an amused laugh when Wade makes a surprised face that indicates youâve gotten the reference. âWhat, you thought a Tom Cruise impression could save you?â
âNo,â he grins, and as if on cue, the doorbell rings, âbut that can. Birthday Boy duty calls, but I want it on record that I could do Top Gun, easily, while Tom would never be able to pull off Deadpool.â
â â â â â
The party settles into something comfortable, soft music in the background of lively chatter. Yukio has just finished telling you about a Professor Layton cosplay sheâs doing when you excuse yourself, both your glass and your social battery empty enough to look for a momentary out. Finding your way through the crowd, you make it to the kitchen, filling your glass with water and taking a few sips.Â
While you do, the music suddenly gets louder, taking over for the steady chatter. You turn around, leaning back against the kitchen counter, and watch as Wade drags Vanessa to the middle of the apartment. People make room for them, exchanging looks while Wade wraps his arm around her waist, takes her hand in his and begins dancing with her. With a laugh, she slaps him on the chest, before settling into his embrace anyway. Some follow their lead, but your eyes stay glued to them. Wade spins Vanessa under his arm, the smile on her face bright enough to light up the entire room. In return, he looks at her with so much adoration heâs almost glowing himself. It fills you with warmth to see the both of them so happy.
It hits you how you havenât thought about this in a while. Youâd decided long ago that the future wasnât something you had to worry about, but suddenly youâve arrived, like youâre in some alternate reality where your future is now, and that it would be nice to share it with someone. The sting behind your eyes catches you a little off guard; mixed feelings of time that has been taken from you, but also of time youâre getting back with the life you now have.
For a while now, youâve suspected the thing inside you is gone, that there isnât much to feed off of anymore. If it is, it would make sense that thereâs room for something else.
Wade and Vanessa make it look easy, even though you know itâs been far from easy for them. You suppose thatâs what itâs like, especially as you get older. Itâs less about big gestures, more about small ones; someone to make you laugh, to spin you under their arm, who knows how to apologize, seeks you out during your quiet momentsâ
âDo you dance?â
You startle, head turning towards the voice next to youâÂ
âLogan,â you breathe.Â
Itâs like youâre seeing him for the very first time. Heâs standing so close, almost touching you but not quite, heat radiating off of him nonetheless. The plaid shirt heâs wearing isnât even buttoned and still the fabric is pulled taunt over his shoulders and the thick of his biceps. Heâs grinning, his nose pulled up in an adorable scrunch, the corner of his eyes crinkling - you never noticed before, but thereâs a hint of green between the hazel.
It hits you so suddenly that you have to grab the counter to keep your balance. Everything thatâs been happening, that youâve been feeling, all the times something happened between the two of you that you couldnât put your finger on⌠it falls into place with a well-timed, completely unrelated question and a glance at him.
You like him.
All you can do is blink at him, dazed, unable to speak, even more so when he leans in a little closer, mistaking your silence for misunderstanding. âI mean, not that Iâ You and Wade were doing a bit earlier, itâs a reference toââ Logan straightens suddenly, his expression slipping into concern as he watches you, âAre you okay?â
You feel warm, so aware of all his attention on you that youâre afraid he might be able to see your pulse blink rapidly below the angle of your jaw. âYeah,â you reply, voice hoarse, looking away from him to blink the leftover wetness from earlier out of your eyes.Â
Anxiety claws its way into your chest, your mind coming to terms with what itâs puzzled together at such a sickening pace that thereâs an immediate knot in your stomach. The party has instantly lost its shine, and you look down at the glass in your hand, gulping down its contents. You need to be alone with your thoughts, you need to think about this beforeâ
âI gotta go,â you say in such a rush that it almost sounds like one word while you set your glass on the kitchen counter.
Loganâs eyes follow you as you push past him, grab your coat and reach for the doorknob. âWaitââ
âBye, Logan.â
THE TABLE
Once at home, you change into something more comfortable, your mind racing while you peel your party clothes off, toss your bra aside, change into an oversized shirt and plop down on the couch after.
Despite having already established that your mind was occupied with other things for a very long time, itâs laughable in hindsight that you never noticed your feelings before. Itâs not like you donât know what Loganâs like; heâs kind, funny, supportiveâŚ
âŚbroad, handsome.
Shit.
Why did you have to come to your senses? Things were better before that moment. Loganâs your friend, whom you met in the most unconventional way possible. Itâs ridiculous to want more than what you have when what you have is good. Or to think that he would want more.
But he might.
Because you may have been occupied with depression, anxiety, recovery, and everything in between, but you were there; you remember the time you spent with him, the way he looks at you, drinks the coffee you like, laughs at your jokes, seems to know exactly when to call you, seeks you out in a crowd.
But it would change everythâÂ
Actually, not a whole lot would change, if you really think about it. You already see him all the time, youâve seen the very worst of each other, overcome a great deal of hardship together, you make each other better, his friends are yourâŚÂ
friends.Â
You didnât say goodbye to Wade.
The thought comes suddenly. It was his birthday party and you didnât even say goodbye to him before you left. Youâre a terrible friend. Dread sinks into your limbs, and you reach for your phone to type out a quick, apologetic message. Just as you hit send, thereâs a series of loud knocks on the door, and it makes you freeze up where youâre seated.
âAre you in there?â a muffled voice calls out.
Itâs Logan, you realize, and a plethora of fake excuses as to why you left the party early present themselves to your mind as you quickly make your way over to the door.
The first thing you notice when you open it is that heâs dripping wet from the rain, clothes soaked through and his hair flat. Thereâs a deep furrow in his brow, and itâs different from how he usually looks; he looks actually mad.
âLogan, is everythingââ you begin, concerned, but he cuts you off by pushing past you and letting himself inside, boots stomping against the wooden floor.Â
âJesus, here you are. Whyâd you leave like that, huh? Saying goodbye, your eyes all wet. I went after you and you were fucking gone, it scared the shit out of me. Didnât see the car at the lookout, but I went to look for you anyway, and you werenât in the water, thank fuckââ
âWait, you wentââ you pause, the mental image of Logan running out into the rain to the cliffside making your eyes widen. âDid you think..?â
âYeah,â he sighs, shoulders slumping.
âShit.â Your heart is racing when you step closer to him. âNo, I wasnât⌠I donât want that anymore.â
âThen what the fuck was that all about?â
The desperation and misunderstanding in his eyes is unmistakable, and you hate that you made him feel like that. âI was just⌠I needed a moment, after seeing Wade and Vanessa like that,â you say, trying to provide yourself with more time to think, unsure if you already want to broach the subject of why you really left.
âYou⌠like Wade?â Logan asks, his frown deepening.
You canât help the laugh that escapes you at the unexpected question. âNo. I mean, I adore Wade, but not like that. Heâs with Vanessa.â
The answer does nothing to change his expression. âAnd you want it to be different?â
His line of questioning confuses you. âIâ No. Logan, this isnât about Wade or Vanessa, but itâs about⌠what they have. Something thatâs real, but imperfect, and thatâs what actually makes it perfect, and I just⌠I was in a really bad place for such a long time, I didnât give myself time to even think about⌠I havenât felt myself wanting for so long,â your gaze flicks up to his. âSeeing them just made me realize thereâs so much left that I still want.âÂ
Internally, you curse the way he always makes you say too much, because you can see the understanding wash over his features. His expression softens, the balled fists by his side loosen, and his eyes search you, as if to see if that thing you want is him. Thereâs no doubt he finds his answer; youâre ever the open book when it comes to him, and your pulse quickens while he silently observes you.Â
Logan reaches for you so quickly that you can barely prepare for it, a hand on your waist to pull you in, another on your cheek to tip your face up and guide your mouth to his. A shaky breath sails out through your nose when your lips meet, your eyes fluttering shut and your palms sliding up his damp but warm chest to curl in the soaked fabric of his shirt. Itâs eager, and the angle is off, but itâs quickly adjusted with a brief parting and a near in-sync tilt of your heads in the other direction.Â
Logan pulls away, but stays close, and you almost feel his words before hearing them, âBeen⌠thinking about doing that.â
âReally?â you say, breathless and amused. âWhen did you, um, start wanting to do that?â
âFew weeks agoâFuck, no, more than that. Almost did, that day after your first meeting, after you told me you were proud of me,â he admits. âBut I wanted to give you time, space. Wasnât sure if you feltââ
âI do. Didnât realize it before, but I fucking do,â you assure him, another tug on his collar trying to pull him back to you. His admissions, knowing he wants you too, only make you want him more, like you have to make up for all the time you wasted not doing this sooner.
Loganâs hand on your waist holds you off. âI just donât know how to⌠how to be this,â he confesses softly.
âThatâs okay,â you say, your nose brushing against his. âI donât either.â
He inches forward like he intends to kiss you again, but seems to reconsider, swallowing hard before saying, âWouldnât be the first time we figure it out together, huh?â
The words make you surge forward to close the gap between you, your brows creasing, attempting to convey everything you feel with one press of your lips to his. Loganâs hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you to him in a way that seems to mirror your efforts. Something lights up inside you, something you lost long ago, and it makes you bold, opening your mouth under his to get a taste of him.Â
His grip on you tightens with a groan, spurring him into action and walking you backwards into the dark kitchen, the only illumination the slivers of moonlight that come through the kitchen window. You jolt when the back of your thighs hit the table, before youâre scrambling to get on top of it, two hands at your waist helping to hoist you up. Your thighs widen to make room for Loganâs while you push the green flannel shirt off his shoulders, struggling to peel it off his arms to the point you have to break away with a laugh to really get it right. It lands on the floor with a wet sound, before he reaches for the back of his shirt, curling his fingers around the collar and pulling it over his head.
Loganâs sturdy, warm to the touch and surprisingly pliant when you canât help but let your fingers flit along the corded muscles and protruding veins while he toes off his shoes. His hand flies to the back of your head to fist the hair at the nape of your neck when your lips explore, find his jaw, and travel down his neck. A soft sound sails from his mouth, a barely audible moan that carries over into something deeper when your lips brush a spot just above his clavicle. Using the grip he has on you, he drags you back up to his mouth, doing some more of his own exploring when his warm tongue strokes against your own.Â
âYouâre so good to me,â he murmurs with a buck of his hips against yours. The thrill of having him pushed up against you, half-hard, warm, full of promise, makes you moan, teeth clacking against his when you do. âAlways so fucking good to me.â
It makes you want to protest, from the very moment you met, heâs the one always being that to you, but it dies on your tongue when Loganâs flicks over the tips of his fingers. His impatient hand finds its way between you, disappearing under the waistband of your underwear and stretching the material to make room. His name comes out as a whimper when his spit-slick fingers easily glide through the soft skin between your legs. He curses, another buck of his hips pressing his hand closer against you, and your kiss turns messy and uncoordinated when he dips one finger to touch your clit.Â
âThis okay?â Logan asks when you gasp, drawing languid circles between your legs.
âYeah, itâs justâ Oh, god.â Two thick fingers find your entrance, swirling the wetness there around. âBeen a while,â you manage to finish your sentence.
âIâll make it good for you,â he promises. âYou want that?â
All you can do is nod, and Logan presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulls his hand back. Itâs paired with a wet sound that makes your cheeks heat, more so when you watch him get on his knees and yank you to the edge of the table, the quick turn of events and the casual display of his strength making you a little dizzy. Loganâs nose presses into the fabric between your legs with a sharp inhale, before quick, practiced moves work your underwear down your legs. One eager hand places a thigh on his shoulder as another holds you at the bend of your knee. You lie back, arching as you hurriedly pull your t-shirt over your head, leaning up on your elbows just in time to watch him bend down.Â
The feeling of Loganâs hot breath sailing out over your sensitive skin alone is enough to make you gasp. He drags his lips and nose across your folds, easing you into it as much as his lack of patience will allow before tasting you with a swipe of his tongue. It isnât tentative or testing, but firm and sure, and clearly for his enjoyment as much as yours when he repeats his action and groans into you. The vibrations of it and the gentle scratch of his facial hair only add to the liquid feeling in the pit of your stomach. Letting go of your knee, he curls a strong arm around your thigh, spreading you open then pulling you flush against him while he sucks your clit into his mouth.
âOh, that feels really good,â you spur him on, your heel digging in between his shoulder blades. You watch him with hooded eyes, shifting your weight to one elbow so you can cup your breast with a whine.Â
Loganâs eyes slip shut in focus, working his tongue up and down your clit and making you arch into his mouth. Reaching for you blindly, he slides a hand over yours on your chest, fingers fitting between your own and squeezing while his tongue slides lower to lick over where youâre dripping for him. He lets out an appreciative hum as he repeats the move until your thighs clench and shake around his ears. His tongue dips inside you, curling up against the slick walls of your cunt, and his name tumbles from your mouth, soft, pleading, making his eyes shoot open to meet yours.
The sight of him looking up at you like that from between your thighs, with dark eyes, the tip of his nose glistening with your wetness, will probably haunt you for the rest of your life.Â
Logan shushes your begging, pulling away and watching as your pussy clenches at the sudden lack of attention. âLet me give you something to come on,â he murmurs, before fitting a finger at your entrance. It meets absolutely no resistance, a second finger sliding inside with just as much ease, and he sets a steady, deep rhythm before his mouth returns to your clit.
âOh, fuck, fuck, fuckââ Your head rolls back between your shoulder blades, mouth open on a silent gasp, but he draws your attention back to him with a curl of his fingers, finding a spot that makes you go rigid for a second. It all builds so fast, so suddenly. The hand on your chest shakes Loganâs off, finding the crown of his head and sliding your fingers into his hair. Heâs too strong to really make purchase, but you try anyway, using your grip to roll your hips against him. The sound of his groans, every flick of his tongue and every squelching, delicious curl of his fingers all send you closer and closer, until his hand presses down on your belly, andâŚ
âLogan,â you manage, voice sharp with a warning that comes too late when he makes you tumble over the edge.Â
Itâs so much after so long, the force of it making you fall back against the table, something between a gasp and a shout tearing from your throat. He holds you tighter, to keep you in place and guide the desperate roll of your hips against his face. Your orgasm quickly slips into something bordering on oversensitivity, and you let out a dry sob that makes you slap a hand over your mouth when Loganâs tongue travels a path from where his stilled fingers disappear inside you, up to your clit. He stays there, gentle, uncharacteristically patient as you slowly come to a twitching halt.Â
Heâs a blur when he comes back into your field of view after standing up, towering over you to watch as you come back down to earth. Becoming sharper with every heavy blink of your eyes, you notice the smile on his face is smug, that the hair surrounding it is a shade darker than the rest. You sigh softly when his fingers slip from you, the feeling of them sliding wetly over your clit making you tremble, but his touch doesnât leave you completely when he moves to stroke the outside of your thigh.
âHowâs that?â Logan dares to ask.
âHmm, no speaking yet,â you protest.
Reaching for him, you slide both of your arms up over his broad shoulders, wrists crossed in the nape of his neck to pull him in for another kiss. Itâs slow, and deep, the taste of yourself shared between the two of you as your tongue slides over his. The table protests with a creak when his hands land beside your head, more when his chest pushes down on yours and you wrap a leg around his waist to get him even closer. The hair scattered across his broad chest teases your nipples and the hard ridge of his cock strains against his jeans and presses up against your slick cunt. It makes your jaw go slack, stoking your desire and making you burn with the need to make him feel as good as he just made you feel.Â
With a push against his shoulders, you take him along as you sit upright again, accompanied by another creak of the table. Mouth still on his, you slide a hand down to cup him over his jeans, the weight of him against your wide open palm making you pulse. Logan grunts when your hand squeezes, and your mouth slides off his, kissing his jaw, sliding back down his neck. He cups your head, keeping you in place while watching your hand.
âFeels nice,â he husks, voice so deep it makes you want to push him aside and get on your knees for him, but then he asks, âAre you gonna let me fuck you?â
âGod, yeah,â you say with a nod, watching as the mark you just sucked into his neck disappears far too soon while you continue rubbing him over the denim. âWant you inside of me.â
âJesusâThen get it out,â he instructs, guiding your hand to his belt.Â
If you werenât so turned on you might wince at how eager you are, at how quickly you tug the buckle open and pull the leather free. Logan groans when it relieves some of the pressure, letting his forehead rest against yours. Together, you watch your hands make quick work of his zipper, your fist closing around his cock while your other hand works his pants down until he can kick it off and under the table.
He fits nicely in your palm, heavy and ready, sticky at the tip. With a purse of your lips, you let your spit trickle down in a straight line, and he hisses when it hits him. Your free hand flattens against his stomach, sliding down along the hard planes of his body and following the vein just below his belly button down, until it meets your other hand that loosely strokes up to the root of his cock. Logan arches into you when you stroke back up with a tighter grip, all but getting on his toes to chase your touch. Using both of your hands to get all of him, you twist your fists in opposite directions once, twice, before circling his tip with one thumb. Your other hand curls around the underside of him, dragging some of your spit down to his balls with the tips of your fingers.
âFâfuck,â Logan stutters when you play with him there, cupping him in your hand as well as you can and squeezing his shaft when it twitches in response. His eyes slip shut as his palms land on the outside of your thighs with a smack, fingertips digging into your soft skin.Â
It makes you jolt, then grin, giddy from the sharp sting and the power you have over his pleasure. âHowâs that?â you echo with a teasing lilt.
He does have the words to answer, albeit a little slurred, ââS good, sweetheart.â
The nickname tacked on at the end takes root in your chest, blooms bright and makes you ache. You translate your appreciation into tightening your strokes and spreading more of the precome that steadily leaks from his tip around.
âCâmere,â Logan says softly, taking over for you with one hand, giving himself a few strokes before pushing your thighs further apart and shuffling closer to line himself up with you.
Youâre so wet that the head of his cock is practically already slipping inside of you, but your hand clasps around his bicep when he really starts to breach you. After giving you a shallow little thrust, his hips draw back, before pushing a little further, gauging your reaction.
âJust like that,â you sigh, watching the careful slide of him in and out of you. âKeep going just like that.â
He gets you opened up like that, giving you a little more with each wind of his hips. Loganâs hand finds the back of your neck, his palm splaying out and keeping you close enough that youâre practically sharing air with each sigh and moan. Eventually, your knees have to draw up to his flanks in order for him to keep going and you wind a leg around his hip to close the final distance with a press of your heel into one of the firm cheeks of his ass. A long breath sails out from between your lips when you pulse around him, slowly adjusting to having all of him filling you up. You can tell he has to put considerable effort into letting you, wood groaning below you when he clutches onto the table.
âFuck, itâs a lot,â you say, and when he grins against your mouth you canât help but kiss him again â just a peck. The hand at the back of your neck squeezes in reassurance as he continues to let you lead, and itâs a small gesture, but it makes you feel warm all over. You melt into it his touch, your body relaxing as the pleasure of the stretch of him takes over. Â
âCan stay like this a little longer if you want,â he says, but the strain in his voice says something different.
âHmm, no, you can move.â Youâve barely said it, or his hips are drawing back, and it would have made you laugh if it didnât feel so fucking incredible. He almost slips from you completely, before sliding all the way back inside with a grunt. The table scrapes along the floor, and vaguely you register one of your chairs falling over in the process. When he repeats the action, the furniture squeaks again below you. âJust donât break my table.â
The sound he makes in response is non-commital, and when he fucks back into you and nudges against something wonderful, you canât say you disagree. Grabbing hold of his shoulder and using the leg you have wrapped around him, you roll your hips against his, and he begins to meet you halfway until you work up a rhythm together. The table protest further, a shrill sound filling the room after each slap of skinâ
With a frustrated groan and accompanied by a startled squeal from yourself, Logan lifts you. The surprised laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat quickly morphs into something heavier that comes out with a rasp when he makes it all look unusually effortless. Attempting to brace yourself, you sling one arm over his shoulders, the other winding around his neck so you can rake your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. Itâs a struggle to keep your balance, a helpless heel digging into the back of his thigh to keep yourself upright. Quick to aid, Logan slides an arm under you, fingers splayed across your ass as your knee hangs off the inside of his elbow. He turns a quarter, presses you up against the wall, and doesnât miss a beat as he continues fucking you.Â
âJesus, Logan,â you say, voice almost a growl and barely recognizable as your own.
With your new position, you can see him better, the both of you lit from the side with the window to your left. The moonlight paints him in a tapestry of light and shadows when the wind blows through the tree branches, momentarily amplifying the glint in his eyes and the flex of his chest and arms like a strobe light.
The different angle he finds with his cock is a little too good, the feeling of the thick base of him stretching you open with each thrust making you dazed and talkative, âItâs so deep like this, canâoh, my godâcan feel you everywhere.âÂ
Logan curses at your words, squeezing your waist and pushing you harder against the wall. Thereâs a deep-voiced appreciation of how good you feel in there too that doesnât quite make it from your ears to your brain because somehow heâs still speeding up. His head ducks down to your chest, mouthing at the soft skin of your breast before closing his lips around a nipple.Â
You whine, using the grip you have on him to roll your hips against the piston of his while you pant into his crown. Though the sound he makes against you when you do it makes you beam with pride, itâs not something you can keep up for very long, your hold on him slacking after a few thrust until you slip back against the wall.Â
Logan pulls back when you do, tightening his hold on you while his eyes glide from the bounce of your tits that glisten with his spit to down between your bodies.Â
âTouch yourself,â he instructs, grunting when you immediately do as he says by bringing a hand down between where youâre joined. Your fingers spread in a V-shape around where he fucks into you, collecting some of your mixed arousal before using it to rub your clit. âThatâs it, sweetheart, fuck, make yourself come.â
You nod, rapidly feeling everything zeroing in on the fingers that draw tight circles over your clit and that spot deep inside you that Loganâs finding with every thrust. âYeah, fuck, IâmâDonât stop, donât stop, pleaseââ
Heâs coming before you are, tucking his head below your chin to let out a deep, drawn out moan against your neck that ends with his teeth grazing your skin. Itâs so much, the pressure of him grinding himself into you with twitching, barely there thrusts, the heat of his release as it fills you where youâre gripping him like a vice, and as your fingers still twirl between your legs you come, and come, and come.Â
The leg you have wrapped around his hip slips off, but before your toes can even scrape the floor, he catches your thigh, cupping your ass with both hands now to keep you up, and close. With a soft, satisfied sound, you let your forehead fall against Loganâs shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat with every light press of your lips there.
It takes you a moment to notice your back has come off the wall, that Logan is walking the both of you into your living room and to the couch. He bends his knees, dropping you between your pillows, where you land with as much grace as you can muster considering you feel like youâre made of lead. The soft couch is pleasant against your body, your sore limbs sinking into the cushions.Â
Logan fits himself between your legs again, widening them around his broad shoulders before his lips find your overstretched thighs, leaving marks and kisses up up up, until his tongue slips back into your pussy. Your back arches off the couch, hands shooting down to fist his hair with a whine while Loganâs hand fists his cock. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell heâs already getting hard again, and his tongue is making something swirl low in your belly thatâs making you pant, and...
Itâll be a long night.
THE PEARL
It had taken a lot of convincing and downright groveling, but Wade had allowed you to bring a movie for movie night. It wasnât that he didnât trust your taste in movies, his main gripe with your choice was that it wasnât a Christmas movie â mandatory for December. Wadeâs right, but after you explained that itâs the movie you always watch at the end of the year (and after Logan and yourself conceded that yes, his birthday was technically also your anniversary) heâd agreed.Â
Now that youâre actually watching it, you suspect heâs genuinely invested, because after a handful of comments about The Hulk, heâs been quiet for longer than youâve ever heard him be quiet.
In the scene on the screen, Mark Ruffaloâs character Dan and Keira Knightleyâs character Gretta are taking an evening walk around New York City, dancing, singing and sharing music with each other as they do. Eventually, they stop and sit next to each other on some steps, watching as the city continues to move without them.
â...the most banal scenes are suddenly invested with so much meaning, ya know? All these banalities, they're suddenly turned into these⌠these beautiful, effervescent pearls,â Dan says, wistfully looking on as New York bustles around him. âI gotta say, as I've gotten older these pearls are just⌠becoming increasingly more and more rare to me.â
The arm Logan has slung around your shoulder tightens, and the couch creaks softly as you lean further into his side, your cheek squishing against his warm chest.
âMore string than pearls?â Gretta inquires with a frown.
âYeah. You got to travel over a lot more string to get to the pearls.â Thereâs a pause as he turns to look at her, âThis moment is a pearl, Gretta.â
She gives him a hint of a smile. âIt sort of is, isn't it?â
âAll this has been a pearl,â he admits, sharing a look with her.
A finger curls under your chin, tipping your head up until your eyes meet Loganâs. He gives you the same look you just saw on the screen, his eyes soft as they take you in, the hint of green between the hazel illuminated by the light of the television. A thumb swipes over your bottom lip fondly, before he leans down to kiss you.
It takes a lot of string indeed.
Sometimes even interdimensional string.
â â â â â
(THE END)
If you made it all the way here, thanks for reading. Seriously. Please come say hi and/or share your thoughts via ask/messages/reblogs/whatever you feel comfortable with. I hope to share more writing soon - emphasis on hope, I'm not making promises, just an educated wish.
And lastly, if you're struggling with mental health problems, please don't wait for a handsome stranger to sweep you off your feet. I know from experience that it can be incredibly difficult to reach that hand out, but I also know from experience that things can get better. There are ways to get help and you deserve to get help đŤ
#dani writing#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james logan howlett x reader#worst wolverine x reader#logan x reader#x men x reader#worst wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut
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Not a gold digger
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: Fans think you only want Max's money. But as it turns out, you were wealthy before he came into your life--you just don't make it obvious.
warnings: No smut, but there's a part that makes me say MDNI.
note: So... I'm kinda back? Idk, I'll see if I'll stick around.
The toxicity of the fandom was becoming quite entertaining, really. It was the third time since you and Max had made your relationship public half a year ago that someone started an anti gold digger campaign to protect your boyfriend. They truly believed they were doing this for a greater good, and they all begged Max for his attention.
It always began after they sniffed out he had given you something expensive as a gift or took you shopping to a luxury boutique. While there were some people who tried to protect you by pointing out that maybe he enjoyed showering you with gifts, the rest didn't care about that.Â
You lived in a small apartment back home, you were driving a five years old Renault SUV, and no one knew what you did for a living. This was enough to enrage them and make them believe all you wanted was Max's money at the end of the day. Just think about the way she's looking at him, one of them wrote about two months ago, she's so clearly not in love with him. Poor Max, someone please save him.Â
Ridiculous.
âIs everything okay?â he asked when he got home and kissed the top of your head.Â
You were sitting in his sim rig, using the time while it was free to practice, because you wanted to play with him when you weren't here together, and he was more than happy to show you the basics. âSomeone started another campaign to cancel me,â you replied casually as you got out with his help.Â
Even when you were standing in front of him, he didn't let go of your hand, instead he raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on its back. âGold digging?â You nodded with a sad look on your face, but less than five seconds later you were both laughing. âLook, I know you're having way too much fun with this, butââ
Without waiting for him to finish, you raised your hand to make him stop. âI'm not stepping out of the shadows, Max. I've been hiding for years, even fucking Forbes doesn't know my real name or face,â you told him.
Back in the old days, when Bitcoin appeared, your geeky uncle had gotten into mining and trading it. He knew the potential, so he put most of his savings into buying them, then he held onto them, and by the time he got sick years later, he knew they were valuable and would be worth a lot more in the upcoming years. In his will, he left his savings and his wallet to you, giving you the chance to use them as you wished since you had learned everything about crypto from him.
So now you had Bitcoin as well as old fashioned investments, and you had used your money to help out an up-and-coming tech company for a forty percent share, and it was later sold to a tech giant for a lot of money. But despite your wealth, you chose to stay under the radar, because you loved your small apartment, and you weren't about to trade it for some fancy penthouse.Â
You had met Max the year before in Las Vegas. F1 was a sport you watched with your uncle while he was still alive, and you were hell-bent on getting a VIP pass for the weekend. If you asked your boyfriend, he would say it was love at first sight, but in reality he was just annoyed by you. For a solid ten seconds, he would correct you every time you talked about it.
You agreed that you would hide in Max's apartment until this latest campaign died down, which gave you some time to spend together in peace. Every now and then you checked the tags to see how things were going, and after the silence of the past few days, today your name was trending again. Ready to have a good laugh, you opened the tag, but the most popular post gave you a minor stroke.
âOh, fuck me,â you yelled as you launched your phone into the couch.
Max pulled the headset down to his neck as he looked over at you. âIs everything okay?â You raised your finger to your lips as if you wanted him to stay quiet, but luckily he got the message. âI'm muted. So?â
You grabbed your phone and went over to him. âThey know. One of those idiots from the company I helped back in the day posted a tweet to protect me, saying that if it wasn't for me being an angel investor, they wouldn't be millionaires now,â you summarized as you gave him the device.
He scrolled through a series of tweets, and found a post from a journalist of Forbes in which he promised a proper investigative piece based on this info. He handed you the phone, then wrapped an arm around your waist. âIt's okay, schatje. I know that's not what you wanted, but maybe they'll stop with the recurring hate campaign now,â he tried. âAnd if youâre worried about the article⌠Donât be. There is nothing compromising about you. Yes, you inherited the money, but you have proven you know what to do with it.â
âMaybe youâre right,â you admitted with a sigh.Â
âIâm usually right. Câmere,â he said as he reached out to pull you closer, but you glanced over at the camera. Rolling his eyes, he quickly turned it off, then gave you an expectant look. âWill you hug me now? And I want a kiss too.â
With a laugh, you leaned down to wrap your arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. But he wanted more, his hand slowly sneaked under your shorts, his fingers running over your clothed cunt before he decided to pull your panties aside and dip a finger between your folds. You moaned into the kiss, but he pulled away a second later to lick his finger clean.Â
Shaking your head with a chuckle, you patted his shoulder and walked back to the couch. You could feel Maxâs eyes on you the whole time, and when you looked at him again, he flashed a devilish smile at you. âI should quit the stream. Now that I had a taste, I want more,â he told you.Â
âIâm not going anywhere, just try to be patient.â
He looked back at the screen, then put the headset back on his head and unmuted his mic. âSorry, I have to go. See you next time,â he told the others, then logged out. You couldnât remember the last time he left the sim rig this fast, and only a few seconds later he was kneeling in front of you, eagerly reaching up to pull your shorts off you.
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f1gossips: Breaking news! Turns out Max Verstappen's girlfriend isn't a gold digger after all as she has her own fortune according to the investigative article published by Forbes. Will the fans apologize?
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user2: And here I was, thinking she's just a greedy airhead...
user3: Easy to be wealthy with your uncle's money.
âł user4: Have you read the whole thing? She invested the money and helped out several startups--that later became pretty successful--as an angel investor. Yes, maybe she inherited a lot of money, but she knows what to do with it.
âł user5: May I remind you how many F1 drivers started their careers with their families's money?
user6: Told you she wasn't a gold digger. Suck it, haters.
liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,577,353 others
maxverstappen1: If you don't buy your girlfriend gifts every once in a while, you're a bad boyfriend. I love to spoil her, it's not a crime. I love her, I'm proud of her, and you can send us as much hate as you want, it will only make us stronger.
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yourusername: I'd be perfectly fine without the gifts, I already told you.
âł maxverstappen1: I don't care.
landonorris: You're absolutely right!
âł maxverstappen1: You're single, how would you know?
âł landonorris: Just FYI, I've been in relationships before.
danielricciardo: You're so disgustingly smitten with her. (I love you both.)
#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#before i get the question again this is a random cute pic that came up at the top in the google search#no i wasn't paying attention to skin color
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slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
âOh, there is no way.â
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you.Â
âWhat? Is itââ
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before theyâre back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough.Â
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bitâŚÂ abrasive, sometimes.Â
âItâs fine, Iâll justâIâll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their roomââ
Just then thereâs a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement.Â
âOh my god! You guys too?â
âWhat?â You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesnât comment.Â
âMe and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.â
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them.Â
âWhat about Morgan and Garcia?â
Spencer snorts.
âSomething tells me Penelope wouldnât be too torn up about it if that's the case.â
âHotch and Rossi?â
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
âI donât even⌠I canât picture that.â
âCan we please not try to picture it?â
âGreat. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.â
âThanks,â Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. âIâll⌠I can take the floorââ
âItâs fine, Spencer. Iâm not going to make you sleep on the floor. Weâre both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? Itâll be like a slumber party.â
âIâve never had one,â he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up.Â
âThen Iâm happy to be your first,â you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, Iâll be gentle. âDo you want the shower first or can I?â
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesnât realize heâs doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you.Â
âYou can have it first,â he says, meeting your eyes again. âJust donât do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.â
âAw. But I love doing that. Itâs my favorite part,â you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later youâre emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie.Â
âNice outfit,â Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish youâd been prepared for. Really, you wish youâd known ahead of time youâd have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. âI had no idea you felt so passionately about⌠Scooby Doo?â
âShut up right now,â you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can.Â
âWhat?â Heâs laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. âItâs a good look for you.â
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. Thereâs really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks.Â
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up againâa cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if heâs almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long itâll be before heâs out again. Itâs ridiculous how impatient you're gettingâand by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy.Â
âI think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.â
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamasâtonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneckâas well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft.Â
âYou were sitting here waiting for me?â He chuckles, and honestly youâd been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly.Â
âMaybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?â
âHa-ha.â He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. âYou took the better side of the bed.â
âUh, yeah. Iâm the woman. I get to do that.â
âWell you should know that if an intruder breaks in, Iâm not fighting him off. Youâd probably have a better chance than me.â
âAnd my chances will be even better if heâs distracted with you first.â
âSo Iâm just bait?â He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait.Â
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest.Â
âI hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.â
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back.Â
âCall me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.â
âI just donât see how youâre even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that youâre crepuscular?â Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow.Â
âObviously nobody has told me that.â
âIt means yââ
âIâm most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?â
âI am,â he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. âIâm just⌠you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.â
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly.Â
âIâve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.âÂ
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you.Â
âThis is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.â
âGood thing weâre not going to sleep yet.â
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features.Â
âWeâre not?â
âOh, my god, Spencer,â you snort. âIâm not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?â
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table.Â
âBut itâs late. We should go to sleep.â
âAt slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally canât keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I donât make them.â
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness.Â
âI appreciate the effort,â he says, and your eyes havenât adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, âbut unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.â
âYouâre no fun,â you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until youâre flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum.Â
Spencer doesnât respond.Â
Itâs silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesnât slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy.Â
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks.Â
You do it again.Â
Another squeak.Â
A second goes by, and now youâre intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can.Â
âWould you stop that?â Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but youâre already devolving into a fit of giggles. âIâm going to smother you with this pillow,â he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry. Iâm just not in the mood to rest.â
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark.Â
âWhat are you in the mood for?â He asks flatly, and youâve won.Â
âTell me a secret,â you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. âSomething youâve never told anyone else.â
âI donâtââ
âShh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.â
âI donât have any secrets,â he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. âNone that youâd want to hear.â
âOh, now thatâs just not true. Youâre an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.â
Youâre only sort of kidding.Â
âIâŚÂ fascinate you?â
âCompletely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what youâre thinking about. But youâre very⌠hard to read, sometimes. I think itâs because youâre a Scorpio.â
âThe position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.â
âFine,â you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. âBut that doesnât mean you donât display the archetypal Scorpio traits. Youâre all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowableâŚâ
âSexy?â He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. Youâd hoped he would catch that one.Â
âHey,â you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. âYouâre supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I wonât let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.â
âWhen have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?â
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile.Â
âStop flirting and answer my question, Reid.â
With the amount of times youâve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. Itâs so pitch black in the room, you canât see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when heâs tired and speaking this lowly, which youâve never heard before.
âAll the secrets Iâve never told anyone are just⌠depressing.â
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you.Â
âNot very good slumber party material, I think,â he laughs self-consciously.Â
âYouâd be surprised.âÂ
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than youâve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and supportâeven if it doesnât always seem that way when youâre teasing him.Â
âDo you have any secrets youâve never told anyone else?â He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you.Â
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those heâd elected not to share only a moment ago.Â
But you donât bring those up.Â
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. Youâve really never told anyone this, and itâs perhaps more vulnerable than youâd realized before the words were already leaving your mouth.Â
âI, haveâŚâ You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. âI have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.â
âYou do?â Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face.Â
âYes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. Heâs an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?â
âFamily annihilator from Houston?âÂ
âCorrect. Heâs in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the OâHara and Diangelo families.â
âYou have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?â
âHeâsâI mean, I wasnât expecting to share a room with someone.â
âSo heâs in your bag.â
âYes,â you seethe, âand I will not be introducing you to him. He doesnât do well with men.â
âYou are genuinely psychotic.â
You huff.
âFine. Iâm sorry I told you anything.â
Youâre about to roll over onto your other sideâbut Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently.Â
âYouâre right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.â His tone is surprisingly teasing, and youâre so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you canât muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesnât seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. âIâm sorry I donât have any secrets for you.â
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimesâitâs like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He canât control it. He canât be anyone other than who he is. Maybe thatâs a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. Itâs not exactly a secretâanyone on the team would be able to tell as much. Youâve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that.Â
âItâs okay,â you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. âYouâll think of something. âCause, yâknowâyouâre stuck with me for at least a few more days.â
âOh, god,â he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you donât mind. Youâll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. âGoodnight.â
âSweet dreams,â you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagine
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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL â
FC43
PAIRING ⌠franco colapinto x fem!sargeant!reader
SUMMARY ⌠with your brother's seat being taken by your admirer of the past year, you try your best to stay clear, but it's hard when franco is trying so goddamn hard to get your attention [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ⌠cursing, very minor hate comments
REQUESTED ⌠here!
NOTES ⌠i am NOT fluent in italian or spanish so please correct me if i've messed up on either of them! i count this as the best of both worlds because i love having franco on the grid but i'm missing my goat logan. the faceclaim i've used is marissa long but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, and 110,331 others
tagged logansargeant
yourusername logie, my bestest friend and the best older brother i could ever ask for. i am so so SO proud of you and the journey you have had during your formula one seasons. so many memories have been made, and i know that i will never ever forget the times we spent in the williams paddock, just having fun together (& bullying alex, obviously). the williams social media page won't be the same without me posting slips of you. trust me when i say this isn't the end, but simply the beginning. lots of love always and forever, y/n đ
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logansargeant â¤ď¸
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 94,522 others
yourusername someone hit me up with an italian man please, i love this country
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user4 oh she's taking it
user5 mother as perrrr
user6 the sargeant genetics are LETHALLL
user7 please someone tell me why is she in italy if her brother doesn't drive for williams anymore?
user8 she's the williams social media manager!! she started in the same year as logan x
logansargeant baby sis â¤ď¸
yourusername love you sm đ
francolapinto did you know i'm actually half italian?
francolapinto sei molto bellađđ (you are very pretty)
user9 second year running and he's after y/n AGAIN IM CRYING
user10 after taking her brother's seat too PLEASEEE he has guts i have to give it to him
user11 FRANCO'S COMMENT I'M DYINGGGG
user12 and the way she's ignoring it too oh my days đ it's been a year and he's still on this
imessages ( y/n )
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 92,801 others
yourusername week off đ
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user16 farm girl???
user17 where is she đđ
yourusername my best friend's farm đ
user18 multi-talented girl fr
user19 she looks like she BELONGS fr
user20 she def doesn't want to go back to the old 9-5
yourusername oh def not
yourbsf my angel đŞ˝đ¤
yourusername best time w you alwaysss đ
francolapinto never wanted to be a goat so badly
user21 I AM PISSING MYSELF
user22 HE IS SO BLATANT AT THIS POINTTTT
user23 @/yourusername PLEASE WE NEED YOUR THOUGHTS ON FRANCO'S COMMENTS
user24 she def won't answer but it's still so fucking funny i can't
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 97,210 others
yourusername most beautiful place đ
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user28 beautyyyy
user29 please y/n we need to see your pinterest RIGHT NOW the vibes are everything
user30 okay but...you & franco??
user31 what about letting people have some privacy, hm?
user32 oh wowwww
francolapinto not as beautiful as you đâ¤ď¸
yourusername đ¤Łđ¤Ł
user33 FRANCO YOU DID IT!!!
user34 watch as franco puts y/n noticed x1 in his bio now
user35 THE WAY HE ACTUALLY DID IT. GIRL...
user34 I AM CREASING I CANNOT
lilymhe baby girl đ
yourusername my lilypad i love you to bits!!
logansargeant are you sure you and that lion aren't twins
yourusername i'm thinking we were separated at birth??
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williamsracing and just like that, mr colapinto is a point scorer in formula one, in his second ever race!! congratulations franco, take a bow đđ
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user38 CONGRATULATIONS FRANCOOO!!
user39 big question is...which admin posted this?
user40 one MILLION percent y/n. no doubt about it.
user41 you can tell y/n posted this bc of her signature pink heart HAHA
user42 i just know somewhere franco is kicking his feet and giggling over y/n telling him to take a bow for his performance
user43 oh franco colapinto you have won me over
user44 seeing this and lowkey feeling so sad for logan
user45 no but imagine how y/n must feel?? her brother just leaving and having to post this, she must hate franco right about now
user46 honestly, judging by the post race interview, i think y/n is fine with franco scoring points, tbh!
yourusername đđđ
francolapinto hearts â¤ď¸
user47 I AM SOBBING THIS IS TOO CUTE??
imessages ( franco )
imessages ( y/n )
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 101,989others
yourusername ��đŚ˘
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user48 IS MISS Y/N OUT ON A DATE???
user49 facecard could kill.
user50 Y/N ON A DATE WHO CHEERED
user51 someone check up on franco like right now.
user52 either franco is the guy in the pictures and that's why he's not commenting, or he's entered a depressive state
user53 knowing his dramatic ass it could be either
alex_albon mystery man đđ¤
yourusername shhhh albon
logansargeant i'll fight him if he hurts you đ
yourusername love you too logie đ§¸
imessages ( y/n )
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tagged francolapinto
yourusername city break đŚđˇ
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user54 FRANCO CAMEO FRANCO CAMEO THIS IS NOTTTT A DRILL
user55 I AM SCREAMING
user56 alexa play how you get the girl by taylor swift
user57 she's in his hometown...so this serious stuff now
user58 Y/N I LOVE YOU FOR THIS
francolapinto đâ¤ď¸â¤ď¸
yourusername đđ
logansargeant willing to fly out to collect you if i have to đŤĄ
yourusername i promise you i'm fine đ
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francolapinto 1 AĂO DESPUĂS⌠¥¥TENGO A LA CHICA!! ÂĄÂĄVAMOS!! la persona mĂĄs hermosa por dentro y por fuera, con el corazĂłn mĂĄs grande que jamĂĄs haya existido. estoy tan feliz en este momento que las palabras no pueden explicarlo. te amo te amo te amo â¤ď¸ (1 YEAR LATER⌠I GOT THE GIRL!! COME ON!! the most beautiful person inside and out, with the biggest heart that ever lived. i am so happy right now that words cannot explain it. i love you i love you i love you â¤ď¸)
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user59 original y/n franco fans RISE
user60 WE ARE THE REAL WINNERS!!
user61 oh he is in love for real
user62 need someone to love me how he loves y/n
user63 their love is so so special
user64 okay but how's logan feeling about all this...? must be so awkward...
user65 judging by his comment...i think he's doing absolutely fine đ¤Ł
logansargeant hurt her and i'm at your doorstep. đ
francolapinto will never be a problem đŤĄ
yourusername you're the cutest ever
yourusername FRANCO đ¤Łđ¤Ł
francolapinto let me share my love for you, no?
yourusername i wanna kiss you so bad rn
logansargeant keep it pg-13 please.
yourusername logan.
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
TAGS ⌠@shepgurl ; @blushmimi ; @nyxx-knight ; @fall-bambi ; @suns3treading ; @wowzees ; @d3kstar ; @poppysrin ; @ailooosworld ; @joalslibrary ; @dejavuontrack ; @dripostsstuff ; @kaylassturniolo
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 smau#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 imagines#requests#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x you#williams racing#mclqren
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daylight â s. reid x reader
in which communicating with your boyfriend is scary, and spencer reid can't stand to see you cry.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort/fluff! tags: reader avoids her issues... for a little bit. that's kind of it. it's just fluffy and simple! word count: 1.5k a/n: something short & sweet because i thought it was cute and i write the most when i'm procrastinating assignments... um⌠inspired by a conversation sam willow and i were having a few nights agođŤÂ reminder that pretty girls cry when theyâre confronting somebody!!
Spencer Reid was not oblivious to all things in the world. In fact, he was rather perceptive compared to most people. Psychology degree and human behaviour-based job aside, he noticed things.Â
A lot of it was good. He knew exactly how to wake you up on mornings he started earlier than you. How to keep you half-asleep enough to allow you your return to sleep, but also awake enough to ensure you'd remember him kissing you goodbye (there had been an argument a few months ago about it â you thought he had left without a word). He knew your go-to Thai order from the restaurant down the street, and he knew which pair of wooden chopsticks your favourite were to pull out of his kitchen drawers.Â
He was also observant enough to know something was wrong.Â
He was back from a case. A long one, that had worn him down enough that he felt like a pile of creaking bones when he re-entered his apartment earlier that afternoon. You had returned from your own job an hour after that, and despite the initial excitement that came from your boyfriend being back in the state again, you were a bundle of nerves.Â
And he knew that.
You were on his couch, legs across his lap and back up against the arm, his hands resting comfortable in the dip between your two knees. There was a quiet episode of New Girl playing on the television (you had convinced him to watch it after he had sat you through every Star Trek movie), but your thoughts were anywhere but the sitcom you had been using to entertain yourself as of recent.Â
"You've been awfully quiet," Spencer said, piercing the less than comfortable air settled around you two.Â
"Sorry," you answered, tearing your gaze from the screen to look at him, meeting a worried expression you had somewhat expected.Â
Hands ran up and down your legs, erupting goosebumps along the skin. "Is something wrong?"Â
"No," you immediately shook your head and forced a smile onto your face. "Nothing's wrong."
He furrowed his eyebrows, lips parting in that confused look he always had on his face when he was thinking, and he stared at you for a few seconds longer, before, "Yes there is."
Profilers. "Seriously, Spence. There isn't. I'm just kind of tired tonight."
"I am as well," he said, hands stilling on your legs rather abruptly. "I was in Idaho for a week. I'm also exhausted. And usually my girlfriend is a little touchier and more talkative than this when I come home. So I'm assuming something's wrong."
"You're assuming incorrectly, then," your shoulders shrugged.
He said your name chidingly, and it was at that tone of voice that you retracted your legs from his lap, instead tucking your feet beneath yourself, gaze dropping to the couch cushion.Â
"I just missed you," you told him, a slight stretch of the truth.Â
"I missed you too," he said, and your shoulders softened. "But that's not all it is."
You blinked, before you fell silent, shaking your head instead.Â
"Talk to me. What's happened?" his voice was achingly soft, your heart shattering in your chest to the point you wanted to take back every thought you'd had over the past week and burn them to ashes. They didn't mean much now in front of him. Not when he was reminding you of how kind he was.Â
"You barely talked to me," you said, hands dropping to your lap, and you fidgeted with them under his gaze. "I never knew what was going on. You didn't call once, except for when you landed."
"I was really busy, honey," he answered, and you could hear the frown in his voice. "If I had time to do anything other than the case and sleep, you know I'd have talked to you more."Â
"I know," your voice shook, and you could feel your emotions overriding your brain. As usual. So, you kept your head down. "But I would've liked you to tell me that, at least."
You heard him sigh, and curiosity got the best of you as you lifted your gaze, inspecting to see if he was sighing out of irritation or not. He wasn't â just exhaustion â and that made you feel a little better.
"I know for next time then," he said, and he met your eyes, which had watered since the last time he looked at you. Which wasn't very long ago, and so he was drawing his eyebrows together, again, confusedly. "What's that? What's wrong?"
On instinct he leaned forwards, and you let him shift his body closer to yours, hands coming up on either side of your neck. You sniffled, trying to suck the tears threatening to fall back into your eye sockets.Â
"I can't communicate," you mumbled, quietly, a tear escaping and dripping down to the lower half of your cheek.Â
"You communicated pretty well just then, angel," he said, voice soft as he caught the remainder of the tear and swiped it away with his thumb.Â
"Yeah butâbut now I'm crying," you moaned, pathetically, more tears slipping down your face. His lips twitched â though not in humour, you noted â as he adjusted his hands to your jaw, thumbs continuing to wipe falling tears.Â
"Yeah. That's okay," he answered. "You've got a flood of hormones going through you right now, and so your body reacts to it in the best way it sees fit. In your case, it's tears."
"I hate it," you mumbled, and this time he did laugh a little, nodding his head.Â
"I know," he said. "Are you feeling embarrassed about communicating with me?"
"I guess," you replied. "I don't know. I think I just..." you trailed off as your voice disappeared, breath beginning to hyperventilate acutely. "IâI just feel kind of silâsilly."
You cursed each sob that broke up your speech, and yet his gaze and focus on you never once wavered. In fact, his touch seemingly had grown softer, and the concern in his eyes had only grown.Â
"You aren't silly," he said, once he was sure you weren't going to continue speaking. "If me not talking to you for a week upset you, I'd say that's pretty reasonable."
"I don't know..."
"Want a secret?" he asked, fingers poking into your cheeks enough for you to crack a small smile. You only nodded your head in response, chest still jolting with each sharp intake of breath. "I have to physically restrain myself from calling you every hour on a normal day."
"You're lying," you mumbled, and his smile only widened, a bashful laugh leaving his lips.Â
"No, honestly. I have so much I want to talk to you about during the day, and I need to remind myself that you're busy and at work too."
A few uncontrollable tears dripped down your face, and your gaze dropped to the top of his shirt, though the smile never left your face. "I don't believe you."
"I wish you would, but that's okay," he said, evidently seeing right through your defying statement â you believed him a little.
His forefinger and thumb caught your chin, and he tilted your head back up so his eyes could meet your glassy ones.Â
"I'm sorry," you murmured, before he could get a word in.
"For what?"
"Crying."
"Do you take in anything I say to you?" he chastised, though the smile on his face eliminated any fear of him being genuinely irritated, and so your shoulders simply shrugged.Â
"Sometimes," you said, and his eyebrows shot up.Â
"Sometimes?" he repeated back to you, and you had to bite your lip to keep the amused expression off your face. He was smiling back at you, before his face settled into something more serious, as he continued, "I don't mind you crying, angel. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm not sitting here and judging you for it. You know that, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good," he finalised with a short nod, and you sniffled with a nod of your own.Â
"I mean, technically, crying is good," you said, tongue poking between your teeth as you forced back a smile.Â
"Yeah? Why's that?"Â
"Releases endorphins and oxytocin."
He huffed a single laugh through his nose, nodding his head. "Yes. It does."
"I know things," you grinned.Â
"You do," he agreed with a nod. "My smart girl."
"Yeah. Don't ever forget it."
"I could never," he replied, and a comfortable silence enveloped your two bodies, your heart fluttering in your chest.Â
"Can you tell me about Idaho?" you finally asked him.
"You really want to know?"Â
You nodded your head, and he sighed, but complied regardless. And you eventually found your head in his lap, staring up at him as one hand danced gently over the skin of your slightly exposed stomach, the other entangled in your hair, brushing through it.Â
And he told you about the case he had been away on â it became glaringly obvious behind why he hadn't called or messaged you at all â and consequently eased any other remaining worries behind it.
And it dried your tears up.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated âĄ
#liaâs fics âĄ#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid hurt/comfort
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