#laura x pierce

[thefudge]

Seven years after the events of Logan (2017), Donald Pierce tracks down Laura Kinney again.

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

[thingsasbarcodes]

Logan (2017)

[sapphireginger]

Title: When You’re the Best of Friends

Pairings:  Stora (Stiles Stilinski + Cora Hale)

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Word Count: 10,239

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  Brief Non-Con Touching & Kissing

Square Filled: Best Friends to Lovers

Written For: @anyfandomfluffbingo

Summary:

Cora Hale and Stiles Stilinski have been best friends since the womb. Okay from the time they were born they have been inseparable.

Talia and Claudia have always been powerless to separate them. The two kids did everything together. They were always at either the Hale’s or the Stilinski's, rarely if ever separated. Sleepovers became an every night kind of thing.

Cora Hale and Stiles Stilinski have been best friends since the womb. Okay from the time they were born they have been inseparable.

Talia and Claudia have always been powerless to separate them. The two kids did everything together. They were always at either the Hale's or the Stilinski's, rarely if ever separated. Sleepovers became an every night kind of thing.

Cora loved soccer and swimming. Stiles loved cross country and swimming. So naturally Cora joined cross country and Stiles joined soccer. They would get up at the crack of dawn and go running every morning and then practice soccer drills for at least an hour every evening. They were both extremely competitive–still are–with each other and then would team up and be competitive with others. Everything from sports, to clubs, to their grades to video games...if they could compete, they would.

Everyone kept waiting for them to become rivals or to have a falling out, but they never did. Year after year they only grew closer.

Eventually people stopped expecting them to fight and began to expect them to fall in love or at least fuck. Stiles and Cora were aware of this, but they have never allowed other people to determine their relationship.

That all changed on New Year's Eve their junior year of high school. They had gone to the party together but not like together together.

Cora is determined to kiss Stiles. She is finally going to tell her best friend how she feels. As the countdown begins, she tries to find Stiles.

"5...4...3..."

"Stiles?" she calls out only to see his lips claimed by a girl named Heather, in their grade as everyone shouted.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Cora's heart shatters and she turns away, missing the moment when Stiles pushes away from Heather with a scowl on his face and searches for her as he wipes his mouth with a disgusted expression.

Stiles is panicking. He had a whole plan. He was going to kiss Cora. He was going to tell her how he feels, but she is nowhere to be found. He calls her but it goes straight to voicemail. He texts her but gets no response. So, he goes to the Hale House only to find that Derek won't let him in.

"Please Der? I need to see her. I have to–"

Derek crosses his arms. "You don't have to do anything. She doesn't want to see you right now. So go home."

"But Derek I–"

"GO!"

Stiles clears his throat as he tries to swallow the lump of emotion stuck in it. With a nod he turns and climbs back into his jeep. He glances up at Cora's bedroom window and finds the curtains shut. She always left them open for him and now–He starts the jeep and drives away. He is left heartbroken and decides to give her space.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

When Stiles shows up to school the following Monday after a very depressing weekend with zero contact from his best friend, he plans to just march right up to her and talk to her.

It's not until he gets in the front doors that he notices everyone staring at him with varied expressions. Pity. Anger. Surprise. Confusion. Stiles gives them an uncertain smile as he makes his way to his locker. He doesn't understand why they are looking at him like that.

That is until he turns down the hallway for the lockers and sees Cora with her back against his locker, her lips slotted with Theo of all people.

He stands there frozen, staring as his heart shatters into pieces, before turning on his heel and heading to class. He has never been more grateful that he never stores anything in his locker.

His seat in calculus is usually right next to Cora's and for a moment he debates switching seats but then decides against it. He won't change things just because his best friend decided to make out with Theo.

Shaking his head, he pushes the sight of Cora and Theo's make out to the back of his mind and focuses on his schoolwork. He had finished his calculus early on Friday afternoon, so he'd have the whole weekend free. Granted he had pictured telling Cora how he feels and then them spending time together just the two of them but well...

He barely notices her trying to get his attention and he is reminded again of the kiss when she sits with Theo and Jackson at lunch. He sits at their usual table grateful for Allison and Isaac.

Allison looks at him worried. "Is everything okay with you and Cora?" she whispers.

Stiles takes a bite of his curly fries to avoid answering verbally but he shakes his head and then shrugs.

Isaac pushes his own curly fries over and offers a reassuring smile. "You need them more than me."

"Thanks guys."

💧💔•💋•💔💧

The misunderstanding with the New Year's kiss is what starts it all. Cora gets competitive and decides to one up Stiles by kissing someone. She wasn't planning on kissing Theo of all people, but she knows by the way Stiles retreats that she should've kissed anyone but the guy who had never been kind to Stiles.

Cora remembers what Theo did to her best– are they still best friends?–their freshman year of high school which makes her feel even worse.

💔•💋•💔

There's never been a time in their lives that they weren't spending time together. Not even when Cora had ear surgery when she was five. Stiles convinced his mother to let him stay and he would curl up in the bed with Cora.

When Stiles was supposed to go to camp one summer, he refused cause it was only for boys, and he wanted Cora to go too. So, they signed up for a summer camp that allowed both girls and boys to come. They were eight and had the best summer ever.

At age ten they share their first kiss. It was inexperienced and they giggled afterward but it was still special.

💔•💋•💔

Little moments all special to her, flit through her mind as the school day passes torturously slow but when the final bell rings, she rushes to the parking lot only to tear up when she realizes Stiles's jeep is already gone.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

As the year progresses, they drift apart more and more, neither of them knowing how to bridge the gap.

Then comes junior prom, which is all anyone who's anyone is talking about.

Heather corners Stiles in the library where he's studying and typing away on his laptop.

"So, I was thinking..."

"Sounds dangerous," he murmurs distractedly.

Heather huffs and slips her arms around his shoulders from behind uncaring of the way he stiffens in response. "Go to prom with me, Stilinski. You've got all the makings of a King."

Stiles grows even more tense and shakes his head. "I'm not much of a dancer. Plus, we're juniors. There is no King."

"Hm. Maybe not but imagine getting Prince this year and then King next year," she purrs in his ear, making him feel nauseous.

"No. I'm not going to prom." He gathers his things and after saving his work shuts his laptop and stands up. "Find someone else."

Heather reaches for his arm, and he pulls out of reach. "Oh, come on baby. Go to prom with me."

Stiles sets his jaw and glares. "I said no. Don't call me baby. Don't touch me ever again. Leave me the hell alone."

"You kissed me back!" She shrieks.

"You can't kiss back when you never wanted the kiss in the first place. You're the one who forced yourself on me. I meant it when I said no. So go find some other boy toy. I'll report you if you try it again."

He turns and leaves the library with his head held high. Stiles has a couple stops to make: the coach's office, the music room, the English classroom, the guidance counselor's office and finally the principal's office. It's time he got out of here.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Despite Stiles turning down a date to prom, Cora still goes, and she goes with Theo. Stiles's heart aches at the sight of her accepting Theo's promposal. He can't just fall out of love with her, but he can't tell her how he feels either. It seems pretty obvious to him that she doesn't feel the same as he does. He hates what Heather did but maybe it was easier this way?

Cora feels nervous and wants to back out so badly, but Theo asked her to prom and well Stiles is going with Heather. So why shouldn't she go to prom too? No one else asked her anyway.

Derek is the one who is home when Theo comes to get her. She's wearing a short lavender dress with sparkles all over it. Theo of course decided against matching, but he did give her corsage. The only problem is that she's allergic to flowers. This makes her brother's eyebrows turn down into a glare, but before he can chew Theo out, Cora has taken her date's arm and is being led to his car.

The car drives away and Derek huffs pulling out his phone. He fires off a text and heads back inside.

[To Stiles] Is that invitation to hang out still open?

[From Stiles] Sure, is Der-Bear. Come on over.

[To Stiles] I thought we said you wouldn't call me that anymore.

[From Stiles] I said no such thing. You told me not to and I ignored it. I know you secretly love it. Now hurry up or the pizza will be gone by the time you get here.

Derek rolls his eyes but smiles as he grabs his jacket and keys. Pretty soon he's in his Camaro and speeding down the road. There had better be some pizza left.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Prom is not what Cora expected it to be at all. Theo is quite handsy and Jackson badmouths Stiles a lot. Lydia just rolls her eyes and smirks at his remarks.

Cora is regretting coming. She feels extremely uncomfortable. She even pulls out her phone when she escapes to the bathroom for a few minutes debating calling Stiles but changes her mind.

When she exits the restroom, her eyes scan the crowd, but she doesn't see Stiles anywhere. She does spot Heather though and is confused to see her making out with Caitlin. Since when is Heather into girls and why would she be here without Stiles? Cora heard her ask him to prom.

She pulls her phone out, ignoring Theo's arm around her waist and texts her brother.

[To Derek] Hey big brother. Is there any change you could come get me?

[From Derek] Why? I thought you were excited for prom.

[To Derek] I was. Kind of but Theo is an asshole, and I don't want to be here anymore.

[From Derek] Text Peter or Laura. One of them will come and get you, I'm sure.

[To Derek] Why can't you come?

[From Derek] I'm with friends right now.

Cora swallows thickly. Derek is with friends, and he didn't say who, which means one of them is probably Stiles.

[To Peter] Hey Uncle Peter. Can you come get me from the school?

[From Peter] Someone not having as good of a time as they had hoped? I wonder why.

She huffs and fights back tears.

[To Laura] Please come get me?

[From Laura] I'm already on my way.

With a sigh she slips her phone back into her clutch and steps away from Theo. "So, this was not fun and I'm going to head out now."

"Whatever," Theo says with a smirk. "I'm surprised you stayed as long as you did."

Lydia and Jackson smirk and Cora feels furious. "Well, you're an asshole. All three of you are. All you do is bad mouth my best friend and–"

"Sweetie, are you sure he's your best friend?" Lydia asks with a faux sympathetic look. "I mean if I had been his friend in some alternate universe where I was literally insane and I pulled the shit you did, I wouldn't want anything to do with you."

Jackson laughs and nods as he slips his arm around Lydia's shoulder. "Come on, this is Stilinski we're talking about. He's always had a few screws loose and he's just–"

Cora feels her phone vibrate as grabs a glass of punch throwing the sticky liquid all over Lydia and Jackson with a furious expression. Her tone is glacial. "Stiles Stilinski is the best thing to ever happen in my life. Yeah, I don't know if we're still best friends, but seventeen years of friendship since fucking diapers isn't going to just vanish because I kissed an asshole."

Theo grins. "Maybe if it was any other asshole but me." His grin becomes a smirk. "After all, how could he forgive you for it when we both know I'm the reason he almost–"

Cora snags his drink and dumps it on his head before storming out with a big 'Fuck you!' thrown over her shoulder.

Laura is waiting outside, and Cora quickly slips into the passenger seat. She barely manages to fasten her seatbelt before she bursts into tears.

Her sister doesn't say anything as she starts the car and drives them home.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

"Thanks for coming to hang out Der."

Derek looks over at Stiles who is flipping through the pages of a journal. "Of course. I mean I–" He hesitates. "I'm sorry for..." he trails off.

Stiles glances over at him and shrugs one shoulder. "You didn't do anything wrong. I was worried you wouldn't want to hang out after the whole thing."

"As if. You're my friend even if you and my sister are on the outs. Plus, you got me pizza."

That elicits a laugh out of Stiles. The two guys had bid Isaac, Danny, Allison and Kira goodbye a couple hours ago and that left just the two of them.

"What's the journal for?" Derek asks.

Stiles closes it and stands up making his way to the attic ladder. "It was once something but now it's nothing." He deposits the journal on a shelf in the attic and then closes the door.

Derek frowns. "It was for her, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Stiles mumbles. "Oh. Would you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What's up?"

Stiles walks over to his desk and picks up an envelope. "Would you give this to her?"

Derek takes the envelope from the amber eyed boy and nods. "I will." He swallows thickly, having noticed the packed bags. "When are you leaving?"

"In the morning."

Derek isn't a hugger normally, but he pulls Stiles into one. "Call me if you need anything."

Stiles chuckles wetly. "Never thought I'd see the day where Derek Hale would hug me."

"I'm serious," the older man whispers.

"I know. I will call if I need you. Okay?"

They part and Stiles walks Derek out. He needs to get some sleep. It's a long drive in the morning. He glances at his desk once more when he reaches his room. The diploma is hard to look at but well he's a high school graduate now.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Cora is a wreck and after she gets home, she quickly shucks her prom dress before getting in the shower to wash away the night. Now she's sitting on the couch with her knees against her chest and her chin resting on her knees.

The fireplace is crackling, and she gets lost in thought staring at the flames. Her hair is in a messy bun which is familiar and comforting because it's how Stiles always loved her hair to be the most. She's even wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his boxers he had left behind once, and they had gotten thrown in with the Hale's laundry.

Her tears have long since stopped falling but her heart still aches. It's half past 1 am when the front door opens. Peter is shut in his office working on a case. Laura had gone out with her girlfriend, Lyla. So, it's either her mother–which is highly unlikely considering Talia and Claudia had gone for a ladies's retreat–or Derek.

Her brother peeks his head into the living room and locks eyes with Cora. "You're still up?"

She nods. "Yep."

"Can't sleep?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "Nope."

Derek sighs and makes his way over to her. He plops down on the couch and turns to face her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she whispers, surprised at his offer. Derek hates to talk about feelings. "Did you have a good time with your friends?"

"Definitely."

Cora swallows thickly. "Were you with Stiles?"

Derek quirks a brow and nods. "Yes. I was also with Isaac, Kira, Allison and Danny."

"Oh." She nods and sniffles. "I'm glad you had fun."

Her brother reaches into his back pocket and holds out the letter. "Stiles asked me to give this to you."

Cora's eyes widen and she snatches the letter from him. Her fingers trace the amber eyed boy's handwriting of her name and how he has always drawn a heart in the center of the o. "Why didn't he give it to me himself?"

Derek's expression makes her wince. "Really?"

"Yeah. Okay. Fair."

"I'm heading to bed." He gets up and kisses her forehead before heading upstairs to bed.

Cora stares at the letter afraid to open it. What if he doesn't want to be friends anymore? What if he hates her? What if he is explaining himself? What if he wants to be with Heather? What if–She heads upstairs and shoves it into her nightstand drawer. Tonight has been too emotional for her. She'll read it tomorrow.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Stiles melts into his mother's arms as she hugs him. "Be safe and call me when you get there."

"I will Matka."

She kisses his forehead and ruffles his hair. He laughs and places a kiss on her cheek before climbing into the jeep. His bags are in the backseat all packed and ready to go.

"I love you Mischief."

He waves and hollers out his window as he pulls away. "Love you more Matka!"

She chuckles and watches as he disappears down the street. "I love you most."

Noah gets home from the station a few hours later and heads to bed to sleep off his shift. Claudia does some cooking before settling in to watch her favorite show. She and Talia got back early this morning so she could say goodbye to Stiles.

The two mothers are worried about their kids, but neither will intervene yet if at all. Some things have to be learned the hard way.

Plus, Stiles turns eighteen this summer and Cora will turn eighteen as well at the end of summer. They're adults now and need to spread their wings a little. This is why she was more than fine with her son going to his grandparent's house for the summer.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Cora bursts into her brother's room late in the afternoon the next day. Derek snaps his head in her direction, having been deep into a book he was reading. "What is your problem?"

"Maybe I should just go see him. He can tell me in person what the letter says."

Derek sighs and bookmarks his place before looking at his younger sister. "He said he's leaving but wanted me to give that to you. So, you should just read it."

Cora's jaw drops. "Leaving?! No. Why?"

Derek sighs. "Read the letter." Then he goes back to his book.

Cora's heart races, tears forming as she dashes out of the house, running as fast as she can to Stiles's house only to have Mrs. Stilinski tell her that he is already gone.

Her best friend is gone. "Stiles," she whispers to herself as she walks back home. She sits on her bed and reads the letter.

Cora,

I hate saying this in a letter but needs must and I just can't say it out loud.

I'm leaving for the summer. I need to get away. I need to think and just clear my head.

I hope you had a good prom and that you have a good summer. I'm sorry I won't be there to help you perfect your dives, but I know you can do it. You've always had better form than me anyway.

Enjoy summer break. It's the last one before you'll be getting ready to leave for college.

My phone won't be on, and I'll be out of reach. Please let me have this time.

Always,

Stiles.

She reads it several times before carefully folding it up, sliding it back into the envelope and putting it back in the drawer of her nightstand.

Then she curls up under the quilt he made her when they were in seventh grade, as she cuddles with the stuffed wolf he gave her. She misses him so much.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

It takes a little over six hours to get to his grandparents' house and upon arrival, he melts into their hugs. His grandparents own a mansion in the country and the fresh air is doing him wonders already. It's calm and serene out here.

He eagerly helps his grandmother with chores, especially cooking and baking. His grandfather gives him more lessons on how to ride a horse. He has his own horse named Mischief. It's what his mom has always called him since he was little.

For the first week that's all he does is ride Mischief and make sure she's brushed, fed, watered and that her hooves are cleaned.

During his second week of the summer at his grandparent's house, Stiles meets Avery Astor. She is sarcastic, sweet and a lot of fun to be around.

He's sure that if his heart didn't already belong to Cora then he'd have given it to Avery and then asked her on a date.

"Why is it that we can't have who our hearts want?" Avery asks as she sits in the shade of an old oak by the river.

Stiles skips a rock and shrugs. "I don't know. Sometimes I say fuck the universe."

"Who has your heart?"

"Her name is Cora. We've been best friends since we were in diapers, though our mothers say we were friends since conception. It's a running joke I think but it's serious."

Avery tilts her head, her blonde curls bouncing. "So, what happened?"

Stiles's shoulders slump and the last rock just sinks to the bottom. "I don't know. I mean I do but I also don't." He sits next to her and fiddles with the blades of grass. "It's hard to explain."

"Well, I have all summer. So, you can talk to me if you need to."

"I'll think about it. What about you?"

Avery snorts. "There's a girl I've loved since she saved my life at the pool like three years ago. She was a lifeguard and I had done this dive to try and impress her. I embarrassed myself when my head hit the board as I fell wrong. She ended up reviving me. Her parents aren't my biggest fans."

Stiles frowns. "Why not? You're amazing."

"Thanks Bambi but you see these tattoos and piercings, right?"

"Yeah. They're badass."

"Well, her parents are snooty rich folks, and their daughter is like Miss California or something. Even if she loved me, they'd never approve, and she wants their approval."

Stiles tilts his head. "They're rotten for that. Does she love you?"

Avery shrugs. "I have no idea, but I think it's best I move on. Either way, I can't have who I want."

They exchange a look and Stiles swallows. "So..."

Blue eyes bore into his own amber eyes as she moves closer. "What if we had some fun, Bambi? Just you and me. I mean neither of us can have who we want."

Stiles blinks. "Are you even straight?"

"Oh, Bambi I'm bisexual as fuck. Plus, you're gorgeous. So, I figured why not? I mean, it's up to you."

His heart wants Cora but they're not together and he doesn't know where they are in their friendship. So, it's easy to lean forward and capture Avery's lips with his own.

She moans softly and guides him to lay back. She slowly straddles his hips, and they move together as their kisses deepen. It's pure lust, fueled by desperation to be close to someone. She feels so good with her heat surrounding him and he's glad he keeps a condom in his wallet.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Avery and Stiles have a fling that becomes dating but neither expects it to go anywhere. Avery knows Stiles loves someone else and so does she, but they find comfort in each other since they can't be with the ones they love.

She is the one to talk Stiles into a couple tattoos and a couple piercings, the day after his eighteenth birthday, as well as a new wardrobe. Not to change him but to help him feel more settled and comfortable in his own skin.

"You know I had my doubts," Stiles says as he checks his reflection in the bedroom mirror. "Yet, I have to say I look good." His fingers trace the tattoos on his arms. He got a fox on one shoulder and a wolf on the other.

As he admires them, he feels slim fingers trace his nipples while Avery's chin rests on his shoulder.

"I told you that you're hot, Bambi. You just couldn't see it under all those layers." Her voice is soft, and her fingers tease the metal bars in his sensitive buds making him moan.

He spins around and captures her mouth in a heated kiss, their tongues dancing, eliciting shivers in her body at the feeling of the cool metal of his tongue piercing in her mouth. He's shirtless and she eagerly falls back on the bed letting him hover over her.

Within mere minutes they're naked and she's rolling a condom onto his cock before he sinks into her in one smooth thrust.

"Gods, Bambi!" she cries out as he pummels her g-spot over and over again.

Stiles nips at her neck and wraps his pink lips around her nipples before tracing each pink erect peak with his tongue.

Avery cries out, clamping tight around him squirting as her orgasm crashes over her, him following not far behind her.

After they clean up, Stiles goes back to eyeing his tattoos and she smiles fondly at him. "You really do look good."

"I feel good."

With one last look, he pulls her up and tosses a bathing suit at her. "Let's go for a swim."

Avery laughs and tugs on the bikini. "Race you?"

"Oh, you're on!"

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Stiles's clothes are much more form fitting now and he loves it. He doesn't feel different exactly. He still feels like himself, but he looks more confident and well he feels a lot more confident too. Avery helped him own his body, his looks and his entire being.

He may also have gotten a small tattoo on his ankle in her handwriting.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Cora tries to do what Stiles said in his letter and enjoy her summer but it's really really hard when they've spent every summer together. She does perfect her dive but he's not there to see it so it doesn't feel as special. She still gets Laura to record it just in case.

She also gets to meet Lyla for the first time and couldn't help the pang in her heart when she sees how happy her sister is with her girlfriend.

Lyla and Laura are college roommates and went from roommates, to friends, to best friends to dating. Cora won't be surprised if they're endgame. They sure look like it.

Derek hasn't heard from Stiles since the last time Cora asked and gives her a disapproving look. Which is fair because Stiles did say he'd be out of touch. She can't help it though if she wondered if he was just going to apply that to her.

Still summer sucks and she's looking forward to when it ends because that means Stiles will be back and she's been rehearsing all summer what she'll say to him.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

After he rides Mischief once more, he gets his things packed into his jeep. Avery is leaning against the fence with a soft smile on her face. "Well, I guess this is it, Bambi."

Stiles pulls her into a hug and kisses her cheek. "Guess so, but we'll see each other again. I'd like to be friends if you would."

Avery smiles and kisses his cheek. "I'd kick your ass if you just disappeared on me."

"Well, good thing I don't have any plans to do that then." He glances at the road he's about to take on his way back home and his shoulders tense. "What if our friendship is irreparable?" he asks softly.

"Didn't you say you two have been friends since you were born?"

Stiles nods. "Yeah."

Avery sighs and hugs him burying her face against his chest. "Then don't give up on it. Not everyone is so lucky to have such a friendship."

"She broke my heart. She kissed Theo."

"She did and I'm not excusing her behavior, but you can either talk about it and forgive her or you can let him win and allow what happened to ruin an eighteen year friendship."

Stiles huffs and nods playing with her hair absentmindedly. "All right. Theo is a fucking asshole. I'll see about talking to her. Maybe we can at least be friends."

"You'll always want more."

"I know."

"Can you live with that?"

Stiles shrugs. "I'll have to. I'd rather have her in my life as my friend than not at all." He feels his phone buzz and pulls back. "That's my alarm. I have to get going. Call you when I'm home?"

Avery playfully punches his shoulder. "You'd better or I'll hunt you down myself."

They exchange a final hug and a final chaste kiss before he's on the road back to Beacon Hills.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

The day Stiles is due back, Cora is a ball of nerves. She has turned down every single one of Theo's advances because her heart belongs to the boy full of mischief. She can only hope his heart can belong to her.

Theo spread salacious things about her and how she was in bed. It's ridiculous because they never even had sex but it doesn't stop people from believing it and well if Stiles were here, they'd never say it but he's not here. So, it's a free for all.

Cora shows up to the Stilinski house to wait for Stiles to get back. She gets there early and watches the Sheriff head into work around 8 am. Then Mrs. Stilinski heads to her nursing shift around 11 am. After that it's a waiting game until Stiles's jeep pulls up around 3 pm that afternoon.

Her stomach sinks to her feet as her heart gets lodged in her throat. Here goes nothing and everything all at once. To say that it is a shock to see Stiles again is an understatement. The guy doesn't even look like Stiles but then again, those eyes are still full of mischief.

"Oh. Hello Cora," he says as he gets out of his jeep.

Cora stands from her place on the front steps of his house. "Hey Stiles." Her voice is soft as her eyes take in his appearance. She sees a glint of silver near his mouth and his clothes are tighter. He looks good. He looks really fucking good.

Stiles grabs his duffel bag out of the back seat and walks up to the house. Cora steps aside and tries to find words but is surprised when Stiles gestures. "You wanna come inside?" he asks as he opens the door.

"S-Sure. Thanks."

"Have a seat. You know where everything is. I'm gonna shower quick."

Cora nods and watches him head upstairs before she gets settled on the couch. Cora's cheeks twinge pink at the image of Stiles in the shower. She shifts uneasily feeling herself get turned on. She's always been attracted to her best friend but there's just something about him now that intensifies that feeling. She squeezes her thighs together to try and quell the growing want.

Stiles isn't faring much better as he takes himself in hand and jerks off fast. It's nothing like sex was with Avery because it's Cora. It's Cora who he has loved since before he really understood what love really was. He bites his fist to keep in his moan as he releases when his orgasm rushes through him.

After he's come down from his high, he quickly but thoroughly speed washes his body and hair before stepping out of the shower and drying off. He hurries to his bedroom and tugs on a pair of sweatpants–forgoing underwear–and a tight black tank top.

Cora almost squeaks as her cheeks flush crimson when she glimpses Stiles walking to his room without a shirt and only a towel around his waist. She takes several deep breaths because it seems so wrong to be ogling her best friend when she needs to be prepared to apologize. The ogling can come later.

Stiles comes back downstairs in sweatpants that hang low on his hips and tight black tank top. He gets them each a Gatorade–blue for himself and orange for Cora–before plopping down next to her on the couch.

"Stiles, there's something I want to talk to you about," Cora blurts out fiddling with the label on her Gatorade bottle.

Stiles takes a drink of his own Gatorade and nods. "Okay. Shoot."

Cora takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. It's like all her words have suddenly left her and now that she's here face to face with him she doesn't know how to start. "About after New Year's–"

"Let me stop you there. That was months ago, and I'd rather not relive it. Thanks," he states firmly but not unkindly.

Cora tilts her head. "You'd rather not relive your first kiss?"

Stiles snorts and then shakes his head as he frowns. "You were my first kiss."

"We were ten!" Cora sputters.

"Uh huh. So?"

Cora splutters again. "You consider that your first? Why?"

Stiles looks away and gives a one shoulder shrug. "Because it was with you."

'This gorgeous ridiculous beautiful mischievous man.' Cora thinks to herself. "I'm sorry."

He glances at her. "For what?"

"Kissing Theo. Going to prom with him. Hurting you."

Stiles looks away and sucks in a breath. "Why did it have to be him?"

Cora swallows thickly, her gut churning with guilt as she remembers what Theo did to Stiles their freshman year of high school.

💔•💋•💔

They had been warming up at a cross country meet for their run when Theo made some scathing remarks and gave colorful taunts. Stiles as usual ignored them but it was harder for Cora to do the same. Stiles was the fastest runner at their school and had never been beaten. Theo hated it and it's why the two of them never got along.

As Cora crested the final hill, she was shocked to see how close Theo was to Stiles. It made no sense to her. Then it was like a car crash, and she couldn't look away. Stiles had just crossed the finish line and was drinking from a water bottle when Theo, who had been a couple yards behind him, barreled into him.

She heard Stiles cry out and then she saw red. By the time she came back to herself Stiles was passed out and there was so much blood she almost got sick. Mrs. Stilinski was kneeling down by her son and the Sheriff had called 911. Theo was smirking subtly, and Cora socked him in the nose.

It was with blood on her knuckles that she accepted Stiles's medal. Theo's behavior and him attacking Stiles disqualified him from the event. Thus, Cora took second place and Brett from Devonford Prep took third place.

Stiles was in the hospital sedated for two weeks. Cora was there for every second of it holding his hand. His left arm had minor nerve damage that was almost completely permanent. Luckily the doctors said he wouldn't lose feeling or use of his arm completely and in a few days would be just fine. It didn't make it any less scary though.

Theo was suspended and banned from cross country. Stiles bears a scar as a reminder of what happened, but he hasn't ever let it change who he is or keep him down. It's a battle scar and he'll wear it proudly. The medal still has a tiny dash of crimson on it all these years later.

Stiles went on to win the state championship the next two years as well.

💔•💋•💔

Cora lets the tears fall down her cheeks and shakes her head. "I don't have an explanation that makes a difference. I fucked up. I know I did. I let myself get jealous and when I saw you kiss Heather, I wanted you to hurt like I hurt."

Stiles clenches his jaw. "I didn't kiss her."

"What?" Cora says confused. "But I saw–"

"She kissed me without my consent. I pushed her away, but I guess you didn't see that part."

"She asked you to pro–"

"I turned her down and once again she touched me without my consent."

Cora's face pales and she sets her Gatorade aside feeling like she's going to be sick. "That fucking bitch."

Stiles snorts Gatorade out of his nose and then starts laughing before it turns into sobbing. "Yeah. D-Definitely a b-b-bitch."

Years of offering comfort kick in and she wraps her arms around her friend, uncaring about the sticky blue drink dripping from his mouth and nose. He's still beautiful to her. "I'm sorry. I should have been there for you." Her voice is soft as she runs her fingers gently through his hair.

Stiles rests his head heavily against her chest, tucking himself under her chin and sighs. "I managed just fine without you."

"You shouldn't have had to handle it alone. I'm still gonna smack her."

"No, you aren't."

"Yes, I am," she promises as her fingers continue to card through his hair while her other hand rubs circles on his back. Her gaze shifts and she gasps when she spots the tattoos. "You got inked."

Stiles blushes and pulls away reluctantly. "Uh yeah. It wasn't my idea, but I love them."

Cora smiles. "Can I see them?"

"Huh? Oh, uh sure." He pulls his tank top off and turns his back to her.

The heat of his skin makes her shiver as she traces the fox and wolf. "They're beautiful," she whispers.

Stiles blushes and clears his throat. "Just like you," he says in barely a whisper, making Cora freeze. She doesn't know what to do or what to say. He must sense that because he quickly continues. "You don't have to say anything. I can keep my feelings to myself. Especially since you don't feel the sam–"

"I DO!" she snaps with desperation and moves around to cup his face. "I do. I always have. I-I was going to tell you on New Year's Eve but then I saw the kiss and I thought..."

The hope in his eyes makes her want to cry but the affection and love makes her want to jump for joy. "I was going to tell you that night too. I tried to find you, but you were gone, and Derek wouldn't let me in. He said you didn't want to see me."

Cora sniffles and sighs. "I didn't. I told myself that if you were happy that's what mattered but I was so angry and so hurt. It wasn't planned but I saw your good morning text and asked myself 'Does he send her that too?' and I just pushed Theo against the locker and kissed him."

Stiles takes her hands from his face and intertwines their fingers. "You're the only one I always say good morning and good night to. You're the one whose opinion matters most to me. You're the one I dream about and you're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep."

"Fuck I'm so stupid," she mutters melting at the way their fingers slot together perfectly.

"We all make mistakes. That doesn't mean we're stupid."

Cora snorts. "What mistake did you make?"

Stiles shrugs. "Not telling you sooner I guess."

She tilts her head and uses her thumb to catch a drop of Gatorade from his lips. "Once I'm forgiven and we're back to where we were. Tell me again. Okay?"

"I don't know how long that will take," he whispers, feeling conflicted.

Cora nods. "I know but if you still love me when we get there tell me and if you don't then I'll still want you as my best friend."

Stiles smiles and pulls her into a hug. "I can do that."

He's oblivious to the internal war going on inside Cora at the feeling of his bare chest pressed against her clothed one. Cora has always felt safe when she's wrapped in his arms. She loves him so much. Always has and always will.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

With Stiles having already graduated high school, Cora ends up attending classes on her own for her senior year. It sucks so much. Usually, she'd have someone by her side but he's home taking online classes for his first year of university.

However, he does drive her to and from school every day. They get breakfast and then he'll drop her off. They'll get milkshakes after school after he picks her up.

Theo pops up again and Cora is glad she told Stiles everything or the rumors would've shattered her best friend. She isn't expecting to find a bloody and bruised Theo by the dumpsters when she heads to the soccer field for practice, but it does bring her a sense of satisfaction. Therefore, she doesn't say a word about Stiles's bloody knuckles when he picks her up.

Two months into the new school year Stiles tells her about Avery and shows her his tattoo. It would have hurt more than a little if she too hadn't had her own Avery. They laugh about it because it figures they'd find someone with the same name to be their first. That night they have a sleepover and neither of them miss the smiles on their mothers' faces.

The first semester flies by and Cora is finished with classes the week before Stiles takes his last final. Then they take a trip to their favorite ice-skating rink just like they used to do every winter. Cora chooses to tell herself that her cheeks are red from the cold and not from the heat of Stiles's hand on her hip where her shirt slid up when she almost fell.

The second semester starts, and senior prom is already being advertised. It brings up bad memories and Cora has every intention of not going. At least she wasn't going to go until she arrived at Stiles's house for movie night a month before to find him holding a sign.

You will always be my queen whether in sweats or a gown But you deserve to be courted and shown off So will you go to the ball we me and dance in my arms Just say yes...I'll make sure the jeep doesn't turn into a pumpkin

Cora starts laughing and throws herself at him. "You're so goofy," she mumbles into his shirt.

He chuckles and sets the sign aside as he wraps his arms around her. "Does that make you Pluto or Mickey?'

"I don't know," she says with a smile even as she thinks to herself. 'It makes me yours.'

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Stiles goes with her and Laura to pick out a dress. She chooses a floor length velvet burgundy dress with glitter, a corset fastening in the back and the dress is strapless. Stiles gapes at her and she blushes almost the shade of the dress. "What do you think?"

He smiles at her. "I'm going to prom with the most beautiful girl in the world. You're breathtaking."

Cora grins at him and looks at her sister who seems both amused and pleased. "Perfect!" Laura crows. "Let's get it."

Cora expects them to get something to eat after that, but Laura drags Stiles away and Derek comes to hang with Cora. "Where are they going?"

He snorts. "Stiles has to get a tux."

She frowns slightly. "Oh." She chews her lip. "Do you think he'll want to match me?"

Derek smiles. "I do. He's not an asshole like he who must not be named."

"True."

"He is still a certain species of asshole though. It's just the lovable kind."

Cora snickers and sips her milkshake waiting for her best friend and sister to return.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

"I don't know about this one Laura."

She huffs. "Why not? It looks perfect on you."

Stiles snorts. "I wouldn't say perfect but..." he trails off and ushers her over to the ipad and scrolls through the selections. "I was thinking something like this."

Her eyes scan the image, and she grins. "Oh, I love it!!"

A few minutes later Stiles is once again on the platform, this time in a burgundy red velvet suit with a burgundy red vest, white dress shirt and a black bowtie. His shoes are black, and his pocket square is white to match the dress shirt.

Laura takes some pictures and whistles. "Looking good there, hot stuff."

Stiles flushes and bites his lip. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"Pssssshhh. Of course, she will but she will not just like it, she will love it. Now let's get it and go. Derek is probably at his quota of social interaction for the day."

They pay for the suit and head out.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Prom night arrives and Cora is all dressed up in her gown with high black stiletto heels on her feet. She has a black clutch with a silver chain and her hair is curled and pulled into a braided bun with face framing tendrils. She also has a velvet shawl to cover her shoulders. She debates not bringing it, a part of her hoping Stiles will offer her his jacket but she decides to bring it just in case.

Laura comes to her room and gasps, tearing up. "Oh my god Cora! You look amazing!"

"Really?" she asks quietly. "You promise?"

Her older sister hugs her and smiles. "I swear on curly fries."

Cora giggles. "You've been spending too much time with Stiles."

Laura scoffs. "There is no such thing as too much time with Stiles. He's almost here by the way. Are you ready?"

"I-I think so?" she replies weakly.

"Okay. What's wrong?"

Cora sighs and fiddles with the chain on her clutch. "Prom last year was awful from beginning to end. From Theo giving me flowers even though I'm allergic to the way they talked about Stiles. It sucked and I will literally cry so hard if this turns out badly."

Laura tilts her head. "What makes you think it will go badly?"

Cora just shrugs and glances at the window, seeing a pair of headlights coming up the road.

"Listen to me little sis," her sister orders and Cora meets her gaze as she continues. "Theo is a fucking asshole. Stiles is an asshole too but he's the good kind. He's been your best friend for years. He is nothing like Theo and he's a big boy. He can take care of himself. You're psyching yourself out of what could be the best night of your life."

"He is pretty amazing, isn't he?" she says with a dopey lovesick smile.

Laura snorts but smiles. "Yeah. He sure is."

"And gorgeous. Oh, and smart and funny and–" Cora blushes and huffs. "Okay. I'm going."

"Thata girl!" Laura crows as they leave the youngest Hale's room and head to the stairs.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Stiles gets to the Hale house early both because he is excited and because he is nervous. Derek ushers him in and gives him an approving smile and nod at his outfit. He does help Stiles straighten his tie though since it is a little crooked.

Derek also helps distract him by talking about his college courses but when they hear a swishing sound by the stairs, they both glance over.

Stiles's jaw drops open as Cora descends, his breath catching. "Gorgeous," he breathes in awe.

Cora watches him with the same intensity as her earrings catch the light along with the silver bracelet he had gotten for her as a belated eighteenth birthday present. It has a fox and a wolf chasing each other on it and the underside has an inscription of their names. "I was going to say the same about you. You look amazing Stiles."

He scoffs. "Says the queen to the pauper." His hands are behind his back hiding a final gift.

"What do you have behind your back?" she asks even as she rolls her eyes fondly at his words. "You're no pauper."

Stiles shrugs. "Agree to disagree, your majesty," he teases and then pulls a box from behind his back. "I know that it's traditional to offer a corsage but we both know you can't have a normal one. However, I think you'll find this is better than any real flower could be."

She takes the box from him and opens it to find a corsage made entirely from origami flowers. She sniffles and holds her wrist out. "Would you put it on me please?"

"It would be my pleasure."

💧💔•💋•💔💧

After more pictures are taken Cora steps out onto the porch confused when she doesn't see the jeep. "Where's Roscoe?"

Stiles joins her and helps fasten her velvet cloak. "She's staying home tonight but don't worry I have something else in mind anyway."

A beep sounds and Cora's eyes widen. "No fucking way!"

Derek never lets anyone drive his baby and yet here they are getting in it and Stiles is driving it for fucks sakes. Her phone vibrates and she pulls it out as they pull away from the house.

[From Derek] No, I haven't gone insane. He asked and I said yes. Enjoy it!

Cora laughs and smiles when Stiles takes her hand briefly on the way there. Laura is right, tonight is going to be the best night of her life.

💧💔•💋•💔💧

They are a little early getting there so they take their time getting out of the car and going in. Stiles hesitates and she turns to look at him. "What's wrong?"

He blinks and searches her face. "Cora, I–"

"Stiles! Cora! Over here!"

They glance over to see Isaac and Allison arm in arm looking stunning in their matching outfits with lavender accents.

Cora waves and turns to look at Stiles wanting to make sure everything is okay, but he offers his arm with a soft smile. "Shall we?" he asks, and she nods, taking his arm.

"We shall."

💧💔•💋•💔💧

Everyone on the prom committee really outdid themselves this year. The theme is royalty and well everyone looks like they could be royal.

They chat with Isaac and Allison for a little while before migrating to the dance floor. Cora will never get tired of being held by her best friend. No one else has ever made her feel this way or this safe. The way he looks at her steals her breath away in the best way.

Not even Theo's dirty looks, Jackson's sneers or Lydia's gestures can ruin this night for her.

"You really do look amazing Stiles."

He grins. "So do you. Thank you for saying yes to going with me."

Cora smiles and moves closer to him as they sway. "Thank you for asking." She tilts her head searching his face. "What were you going to say before we came inside?"

Stiles's eyes widen and his cheeks twinge pink. "O-Oh. Well, I just–"

"Students, if I may have your attention, please?" the principal says into the microphone up on the stage. "It is time to announce this year's Prom King and Prom Queen. Would the nominees please make their way to the stage?"

Cora squeezes Stiles's hand and in a moment of courage kisses his cheek before making her way up to the stage. She is one of four nominees for queen, the other three being Lydia Martin, Heather Custer and Allison Argent. The four nominees for prom king are Theo Raeken, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey and Danny Mahealani.

"This year we will announce Prom King first."

The guys all puff up their chests–well Theo and Jackson do–as they wait for the results.

"This year's Beacon High Prom King is...Theo Raeken."

Theo smirks and steps over to accept his crown as the principal pulls out the next envelope. He winks at Cora who scowls at him before swallowing hard when the Queen is announced.

"This year's Beacon High Prom Queen is...Cora Hale!"

Her eyes find Stiles who is whistling and cheering loudly for her as she accepts her crown.

"As is tradition...make room for the dance of the King and Queen."

With a smug look on his face Theo leads her to the dance floor and pulls her in for a dance. There's alcohol on his breath when he leans in to whisper in his ear. "How does it feel to know that if it wasn't for you, he'd be in my place, and you'd be dancing with him but instead you're here dancing with me while he has to watch. I bet it is painful for him."

She feels sick even as her face forms a furious expression. "Fuck you, Theo!"

"If you'd like to, I won't say no. I mean I must say you look divine."

She tries to pull away, but his arm is like a vice around her waist. She's about to headbutt him when he flies back from her clutching his nose. "WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?" he hollers.

"I thought we came to an understanding Raeken," Stiles snarls and stalks over to the other boy. "Seems you forgot. I mean I'm not shocked. Your brain is smaller than a pea. I don't think you even have two cells to rub together. We all know that you and Jackson would be flunking if Lydia wasn't doing your homework for you. I wonder how you'll survive college. I mean that is if you get to go. I heard someone informed the principal of Lydia doing homework for you both, so I don't expect you'll get to go to college. Not to mention the drugs you've been selling. They'll probably expel you. Seems fitting in my opinion. You're just as toxic as the drugs you sell, if not more so."

Theo glares at Stiles as he takes a step towards him. "You're just a jealous motherfucker cause I had her first."

Stiles makes a fist and then relaxes it as he smirks. "She's not an object you can have and you're wrong by the way. I've been hers since we were in diapers. So, fuck off and good luck trying to get out of this one."

Cora's heart races at her best friend's words. 'I've been hers since we were in diapers.' She doesn't wait around to watch Theo get escorted out along with Lydia and Jackson. Instead, she drags Stiles outside and wraps her arms around his neck. "I love you," she whispers.

His smile is brighter than the sun. "I love you more."

She leans in their breaths mingling as their foreheads rest together. "I love you most."

They have both grown up hearing Mrs. Stilinski say that to her son and her husband. It felt right to say it to each other now.

He searches her face and when she nods her consent, he kisses her. Warmth floods their bodies as fire pulses through their veins. Nothing exists or has any meaning outside of each other and the feeling of their lips dragging hotly together over and over again.

They get into the backseat of the Camaro and shuck their outer layers. Stiles's jacket gets tossed in the front seat and Cora's shawl joins it as he cups her face when their tongues start dancing together. Fuck that tongue ring feels so good in her mouth.

The passion ramps up as he grows hard, and she moans when he bites her lip and tugs gently. They're both panting heavily when they pull apart. Their grins are so wide their cheeks hurt as their cheeks flush darker red.

"Do you want to–"

"Are we going too–"

"You first," they say simultaneously and then end up laughing.

Cora clears her throat as Stiles speaks. "We don't have to do anything else."

She chews her lip. "But if I wanted to, would you want to?"

Stiles quirks a brow. "It depends on what you want to do. I think your brother might murder me if we make a mess in his car."

"Well..." she trails off and gives him a seductive smile as she looks up at him from under her eyelashes. "I was thinking of these." She takes his fingers and puts one into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks on his middle finger. Then she switches to his index finger and finally his ring finger. Each one gets a turn and then two and then all three.

His pupils dilate as he watches her with rapt attention, and he moans at the feeling. "O-Oh fuck!"

She giggles and pulls her mouth off his fingers loving how his pants are tenting and he looks all flushed. "I have pictured these fingers so many times and I would feel so guilty afterwards," she admits shyly.

Stiles gulps and leans forward gently tracing his other hand up her thigh. "What did you picture?"

Cora guides his hand under her dress and to her now dripping core keeping their gazes locked. "I pictured them inside me, curling just right and making me come undone so completely I couldn't think of anything but your name." His fingers brush her thong, and she shivers.

"I can do that. I-I want to do that. Let me? Please."

With a nod she captures his lips again as he sinks one finger into her easily and with how wet she is he slips in a second finger right away. The windows begin to fog over as the pressure builds in her abdomen and they pant open mouthed.

"St-Stiles!" she cries out. "I'm go-gonna–AH!!" she screams in pleasure, throwing her head back as she cums around his fingers.

He works her through the aftershocks and then slowly pulls his hand out, careful not to get anything on her dress. He slips his fingers into his mouth as he reaches into his pants to stroke himself to the taste. Just as he's about to cum, Cora's lips seal around his cock and he chokes back a stuttered groan. She swallows every drop. "Fucking hell, Cora Hale."

They take a few minutes to get their breathing back under control and then right their clothing. They drive to the Hale house to return the Camaro and then head inside to change out of their outfits.

Cora pulls on the boxers and hoodie belonging to Stiles and then heads to the kitchen to make them something to eat.

Stiles comes downstairs in sweatpants and a tank top. He finds her in the kitchen and grabs out two Gatorades–one blue and one orange–and takes them into the living room. He cues up their favorite children's movie–Fox and the Hound–and grabs the quilt his Babcia made for them.

Not even ten minutes later they are curled up on the couch together. Stiles is laying on his back with his head on a pillow on the arm rest with Cora's head on his chest, her body between his legs and the blanket over them. She blushes as he hand feeds her the fruit and they settle in to watch the movie.

It truly has been the best night of Cora's life. She has a boyfriend who is her best friend and she's happy. Plus, seeing him put Theo in his place was hot.

She looks up at him, his face slightly shadowed as his gaze is fixed on the movie. He's beautiful and he's hers. "I love you," she whispers.

He glances down at her and smiles fondly, his eyes full of love and affection. "I love you more."

"I love you most," she says as she leans up slightly to bring their lips together.

Neither of them hears the door shut quietly but later when Cora checks her phone, she'll see a text from her brother.

[From Derek] The only reason I'm not tearing your throats out with my teeth is because I know how much tonight means to you both and I'm happy you finally got together but don't you ever fuck in my car ever again!

[3mmalg]

Just Us | Old Man!Logan x Reader

🌶️ 18+

Summary: You and Logan have been on the road with Charles and Laura, but finally catch a moment for yourselves.

It has been too long since you and Logan have spent time alone together. Ever since taking in Laura and making the decision to take her north at her mother’s wish, the four of you have been sharing dingy motels and catching whatever rest you could in the truck. Charles needed to be taken care of and the kid had to be corralled, exhausting you and Logan on top of the constant threat of Dr. Rice and Pierce.

You could tell this sudden change of pace was weighing on Logan’s shoulders heavily. The circles under his eyes were darkening and the worry lines on his forehead were deepening. The frustration was eating away at him, but deep down he knew he had to do this. You could tell he needed release. He found this situation ridiculous and constantly asks you why you let him do this. After all, you, Charles, Caliban and Logan had been successfully under the radar until now. Life was peaceful and even somewhat enjoyable for Logan’s standards. Now, Caliban is dead, Charles refuses his medication, and the pair of you are tasked with taking a child to a sanctuary that could not even exist.

An unexpected change of your path lead the four of you to the farmhouse of a sweet family whom Charles and Logan helped on the highway. They fed you dinner and offered to lend you all a place to sleep, which Logan quickly accepted, catching your gaze from across the dining room. Your eyes trail down his body, catching a glimpse of his clenched fist, and a certain outline in between his legs. Your eyes travel up once more, sharing a shy smirk with Logan.

After helping Charles into bed and getting Laura comfortable, Logan grabs your hand tightly and nearly drags you off into your shared room. His heavy footsteps drown out your giggles- His body language could only mean one thing.

“Well, aren’t you eager?” You say to Logan in a lowered voice, biting back a smile. He closes the door behind you and locks it, spinning you and pressing you into the door.

“You have no idea, bub.” Logan growls.

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head tightly. His head dips to the crook of your neck, biting and sucking desperately. Your head drops back instinctively, bumping the door behind you. He was so impossibly close already, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be inside you.

With his free hand, Logan finds the buttons of your jeans and masterfully undoes them. He releases your wrists and your hands quickly find his cheeks to pull his mouth away from your neck and to your lips. He groans deeply into the kiss and shoves your jeans to your knees as your hands tighten in his dusty grey hair. He pushes his knee into yours, forcing your legs open, and shoves his jean covered thigh against your core. You instantly moan into Logan’s mouth.

“You know how long it’s been since I’ve had you to myself? Too damn long.” He says, guiding your hips as you grind on his thigh.

“I’ve missed you.” You choke out, causing Logan to chuckle.

“Well you’ve got me for at least tonight sweet girl.”

He removes his knee from between your legs and helps you step out of your jeans and panties. He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you down on the edge of it. You prop yourself onto your elbows and watch Logan unbutton his flannel and reveal his weathered body. He had been through so much in his life, but he would always make time for his girl.

He works off his jeans, leaving him only in his plain boxers, and leaving you with a wide eyed stare. This would never get old. He inserts himself between your legs and reaches for the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head and unclasps your bra while he’s at it. He sighs at the sight he had been missing for the last few weeks. He may not tell you often, but you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You ready, bub? Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

You whimper out a desperate reply, but it isn’t good enough for Logan. He leans down, hands placed on either side of your head. Your legs immediately wrap around his hips.

“Use your words, honey. Let me hear you.” He growls into your ear.

“Please, Logan. I need you.”

He chuckles, breath fanning over your ear and neck.

“That’s what I like to hear. Such a good girl for me.” His voice dripping with desire.

He pushes his hands up and pushes his boxers down his hips, revealing his hard cock. He strokes it lazily before guiding it to your entrance. He enters you inch by inch, teasing you both. Even though it’s only been a few weeks without touching each other, being on the run has made it feel like years. Logan finally sinks his hips to become flush with yours, filling you completely. The two of you are panting into each other’s mouths, just completely full of desire and love for the other.

“You ready for me to move, hon?” He whispers in between labored breaths. You nod meekly, hair sticking to your forehead. He kisses you tenderly, his beard scratching your chin. Logan begins to move at a slow pace, but quickly picks up speed. He wants nothing more than a passionate night with you, but it’s been too long to hold himself back.

His speed increases, thrusting into you as hard as he promised. Your jaw goes slack to release a moan, but he covers it quickly with his large hand.

“As much as I wanna hear you, we don’t want to wake our hosts, huh?” He says, smiling at your fucked out expression. You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucks you hard.

“You’re close bub, I can feel it. Just let go for me baby.” He whispers, forehead against yours.

You let out a stifled moan against Logan’s hand as he pulls out and releases all over your stomach and thighs. He flops beside you with a groan and maneuvers himself to the top of the bed, pulling you into his muscular chest and wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders.

“I missed you.” You whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“I know.”

[dawnwriterimagines]

September Morning

LOGAN HOWLETT X FEM!READER LAURA KINNEY X PLATONIC!READER

Summary: Recalling the last day he'd held you.

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

September.

A September morning it had been.

He remembers the sudden change of pace in the mansion, the school year was starting, students would be lining up in the halls for the start of the semester.

You had been so looking forward to returning to teaching, to your students.

Planning and setting up a curriculum, a classroom, that they'd never get to see.

It was a September morning...

Logan had kissed you that morning.

But, not in the way he should've. Not in the way he wished he had.

It was swift, a tight-lipped peck on the forehead per your bitter request. You had to practically beg him to show you a hint of romance these days, he'd been pulling himself away from you at the time. Feigning uninterest in your relationship, in you.

But, it hadn't been true.

His feelings for you could never be explained in words, 'Love' felt too simple, too modest, so he never said it. But, that had been it. He was in love, devastatingly so. Night and Day. Dreams and daydreams. Even his nightmares, spiraling images of mayhem that would silence with your presence. Every thought, every moment, every breath seemed to be dedicated just to you.

And it made the future a terror in his mind.

He's lived decades, over a century, through wars, torture, plagues and lovers. Nothing in his life ever lasted, especially nothing good.

Though this was his longest relationship, and you shared a healing factor that contributed to you living since the 1890s while appearing as a woman in her late 20s. Naturally, he looked forward to many more years with you, decades and decades of breathless love, a hundred lifetimes.

But, Logan was a disease. A plague on anything good that came his way. One day, he'd always come to destroy the beautiful things he loved so much.

And he didn't want that to be you.

So, thinking it was the best thing for you, for the both of them in the long run, he slowly, agonizingly stretched the bonds of your relationship. He stopped kissing you unless you asked, stopped touching you unless you begged, stopped eating with you at breakfast, stopped embracing you, indulging you, loving you in the way you needed. He stopped everything, but slowly, so slowly.

Logan couldn't help himself, he wanted it all to last. But, it couldn't.

When he caught himself slipping, staring at you a little too long, kissing you a bit too fiercely, he'd curse himself. Dig his claws into his skin, piercing the flesh and tearing a scream from his lungs.

It was to protect you.

His feelings couldn't get in the way of you being safe from him. From the bad luck that followed him up from hell, that clung to his form and wrapped around anything to close.

It was a September morning when he was confronted by you.

"Logan," you took his wrist as he tried to part from you. "What's wrong?" you wondered, sadly.

He doesn't turn to face you, keeping his eye on the bedroom door, leaving you, he had to leave. If he stayed any longer... "Don't do this again, nothing's wrong."

"Of course, there is," you pulled at his hand, trying to pull him back. Back to you. "There's been something wrong for a long while, just tell me. Tell me and we can figure it out."

"Tell you what?" Logan coldly glanced back at you. "Haven't I told you enough?"

"You haven't told me anything," you frowned, staring right back. "This, whatever you're doing, isn't saying anything. I don't want you to walk away. I need you to talk to me."

He rips his wrist from your grip, forcefully, turning fully to face you, nostrils flaring but it doesn't faze you. You've handled the wolverine's temper before, hell your relationship used to be malicious before it became romantic. "Then you must be deaf," he says. "I think I've been more than clear. Any person with sense would've gotten it by now. Or maybe you're not as smart as I thought."

"Don't do that," Jaw tensing, your eyes narrow at your lover. "Don't be a child. Just say it. Tell me how you feel instead of pushing me away to make it easier on yourself."

"If you don't know by now," he spoke, he took a breath as he struggled to say much else. "I haven't been showing you clearly."

At that, you quiet a bit. Eyes flickering around his face for the truth, face falling, hurt evident in your expression, his heart hurts at the look, but he masks his agony as best as he knows.

Logan was physically stiffening up, fists clenched up, jaw clicking, he wasn't ready to confront this with you. He never even wanted it to end, he thought it'd be easier. So, he doesn't say anything, fighting with himself, expression twisting with his rampant thoughts.

"Logan," your painful expression nearly breaks him. You open your mouth, but your words come out in a stuttered whisper before falling quiet again. You're lost, confused.

"I don't understand. I...I thought we'd...found each other. Didn't we? Find each other," you murmured. "In all this pain, and grief, I found you, Logan..." the crack in your voice makes him turn away, a grimace along his face, a wince at your words.

Though you hadn't lived as long as him, you'd faced a century of hardship, decades of loneliness, death and vulnerability, you'd known no concept of safety until the X-Men. Until him.

Found through the rubble, you'd pulled each other out of, it was easy to fall in love. Promises of forever and beyond even that. Promises of together through the end of time, through the end of the world. Logan Howlett had confessed his love a thousand times over without saying a word, and you'd believed him like he held every precious ounce of trust in his hands.

You take his hand now, your eyes filling with tears as he stayed silent, your thumb running along his knuckles, he lets you. "Tell me you found me," as you cried, he takes your face in his hands, bridging the gap between you. Your first tear runs down his fingers, he wipes them away. "Tell me you love me..."

Logan Howlett speaks a truth he's regretted throughout his life afterwards, a moment that would plague his dreams for the rest of his life. "Have I ever before?" he wondered simply.

Instantly you're out of his arms, stumbling back away as if he'd burned you. Your eyes are wide, they dart away from him, your shoulders dropping as you come to the terrible conclusion, he was right. Logan had never said he'd loved you.

Logan's eyes burn, his fingers curling in on themselves and his chest hurts too much to take a breath. He wants to take it all back. Beg on his knees for forgiveness. He'd do anything. Jump through fire, fall in a pit of snakes, fight an army, snatch as many souls from hell that he needed to get back into your arms.

But, this was the plan. This was how it had to be.

Every word meant to sting, to burn and brandish you in a way that destroys your love for Logan Howlett.

Pulling himself away from this room before he can face your tears for another moment, he turns the knob to the door, opening and closing it behind him.

Stomping down the hallway, fighting every step as he could smell, hear, practically taste the sobs that tore from your throat as he leaves.

He nearly collapses as he takes the corner, his hand pressing into the side wall to steady himself. His heart in his ears, breathing harshly as his eyes redden and sting with unshed tears.

"Logan?" Scott sounds from behind him, questioning. "Everything alright?"

His rival, his friend, puts his hand on his shoulder, but it's shrugged off immediately. "Fine," Logan says without turning. Continuing down the hallway and away from him.

Scott makes a face, confused, before turning to Jean, who follows him out of their room. She notices Logan turning the next corner down to the stairs, "What's going on?"

"No idea," Scott sighs. "Just Logan being his usual self."

At the sound of a motorcycle driving away from the driveway, he glances out of the side window of the manor, frowning deeply as he watches Logan speed away.

Jean hums, amused. "Surprised?"

"Never," Scott says, before perking up as he hears your crying down the hallway. "Or maybe I am. Is that (y/n)?"

Jean's face falls, she steps out into the hall, walking slowly over to your room. Your crying louder this time, she rushes over to the room. "(Y/n)!" she knocks hurriedly, before bursting inside. Holding you instantly as you collapse to the floor, your hands covering your face, you hiccup, allowing Jean to hold you tight. "Hey, hey, what happened, what's going on?"

Scott comes up to the open doorway, confused, worried. But, he opts for giving the women their privacy, closing the door a crack, before reaching for his phone and texting Logan.

This was unlike Logan. Well, upsetting you was unlike him, not being an asshole, that was completely like him.

But, he knew how much Logan loved you, never saying so much as a tease that would indirectly upset you. Logan was smitten for years, unable to even put his feelings into words without going flustered. Something was wrong.

Angrily typing, Scott sends the text to his teammate, before perking up in surprise as a subtle beep rings out in the hall. He walks around the corner, down the hallway, and notices a phone laying on the edge of the steps, Logan's phone. He frowns. "Shit."

He sighs then, walking back around the hall. Running into Ororo, the weather goddess's brows are furrowed in worry. "What's going on with Logan? He looked upset, what happened?"

"You should see (Y/n)," Scott breathes, disappointed. Ororo's eyes widen at the news. "I've never seen them like this."

"Oh my," she frowns, before a streak of light passes by the window, nearly blinding them both.

"Jeez, what the hell," Scott turns, putting his hand up as the light gets brighter. Is that the afternoon sun?

But, it's not the sun. It's humming...like metal vibrating against the glass.

The light eases and the two mutants stare in horror. A sentinel, giant in size, it's eye peaking into the X-Manor, it's glowing red eye catching sight of the two of them immediately.

"SCOTT!" Jean screams.

He and Ororo spin around as a beam of light tears through the hallway, through the walls, through the glass. Tearing apart the building as a rush of power obliterates everything, a green blast of fiery energy coursing through the bricks.

"JEAN!" Scott bellows. "(Y/N)!"

You, with Jean in tow in your arms, flying through the chaos, dirt and scorching heat searing through your skin, having narrowly avoided the beam. Jean casting a telepathic shield as you both ram through the side wall and away from the sentinel shooting from the northside of the building. "Go, go, go!"

Ororo takes Scott's hand, the two of them lifted by the winds and hurtling out of the window as the radiating beam tears through where they were last standing.

Jean and you following, a sentinel chasing after the two of you, you glance backwards as you force gravity to propel you forwards and towards the tree line. Your swollen eyes widen in horror as the chest of a sentinel pops open, falling down to meet you and Jean. The metal tendrils bursting through and wrapping around your ankle, quickly you let go of a surprised Jean.

She screams as she falls before hurriedly catching herself, as she carefully lands on the grass below, rolling down to safety. A dirty smear of soot along her face, she looks up, watching to her terror as you're swallowed inside of a sentinel, it's tendrils wrapping around your body and pulling you inside of it's trap.

You scream as the doors slam shut, hand extending outwards. Out towards the road, out towards Logan.

Jean's hands immediately rise upwards, desperately, "No, no!" she cries, but then the inside becomes engulfed in flames, you scream in agony in the air as your prison of metal suffocates you in a sudden rush of fire. "NOOO!" Jean screams, the violent light of a burning flame fills her eyes as she sobs out in horror.

The sentinel crashes downwards toward the far tree line with you buried in its casket, Jean's telepathic pull interrupted at the sheer weight of it's fall. She rushes down, running desperately, but the northside sentinel crashes down in front of her, it's beam of light rushing down on her.

Ororo with tears in her angry eyes pulls the winds down and towards Jean, pushing her out of the way of the lethal attack. She then pulls lightning from the sky, storm clouds rolling in, rain falling from them, a sudden strike of electricity collides with the large sentinel. It jerks, it's metal shuddering and loosening, but it then turns to her, it's beam whistling through the air.

She flies up, avoiding it. Then past the sentinel, pulling lightning from the clouds, she desperately strikes at the sentinel balled up by the tree line that burns with fire with you inside. With a cry, she brings it down, splintering its shell. But then, before her eyes, the metal changes in texture, from a dented metal, to a rocky surface of stone.

Fire spills out, and she can hear your weakened vocals crying for help.

Ororo wails like a vengeful spirit, bringing down the wrath of the storm down on the shield of the sentinel. But, without warning, a large hand of a sentinel swings toward her, knocking the weather goddess out of the sky. "Ah!"

Scott rips his glasses off his face, beams of concussive force springing from them and knocking the giant robot back a few feet, it's hand coming up to block the attach. The beam wearing down on it's metal, but it comes closer and closer.

With a rageful cry, his beams become larger, nearly covering the giant being, it stumbles back, the ground rumbling with each forced step back.

Jean lifts herself up, a telepathic push shoving the sentinel over before it can restart its beam to attack Scott. "Rah!" the sentinel lands on its back, nearly blowing them all back with the force of it.

As the sentinel falls, the rest of the X-Men emerge from the manor, Hank and Charles guiding the students out of the building and towards the field, away from the chaos.

Without wasting a second, the X-Men rush down the tree line, to the sentinel that's captured you, no noise escapes the trap. Jean telepathically tears into the metal, the sentinel's regenerative body fighting against her wishes. Forcing the metal to open, a terrible heat pouring out of the cracks, no one can get close enough, your crumbling hand falling out limply.

Jean screams.

Ororo cries. "No!"

Scott curses, hands coming up and over his head, horrified. "Oh God!"

Another streak of light tears through the field, rushing up towards them all this time, a violent beam of energy destroying everything. They turn, but it's too late.

---

Logan turns his glass, watching as the liquid swishes and shifts with every move.

Sitting in a local pub in the city, he sighed heavily to himself. He can't stop thinking of your face, how you looked when he said all those things, when he gave you lives that he'd forced you to believe.

He beats his forehead with his fist, grimacing miserably, as he sat there, taking another swig of his beer. "Fucking idiot," he curses himself.

Why did he have to ruin that? Every good thing. Ruined.

Why did he have to do this to himself?

What kind of joke was his life? This one thing. He couldn't just have this one thing...

No. He remembered. He couldn't.

He took another drink, waiting for the kick. He sighs at the burn in his throat that he waits to numb his thoughts to silence.

Against his better judgement, Logan takes out his wallet, realizing he'd forgotten his phone. He opens it, eyes softening at the picture of you he kept there, pulling it out, it was folded to block him out of the picture.

He held a little smile, letting you pull him to your face so you both were smushed together for a happy little photo. He recalled the day as it being the moment he knew he wanted to spend every waking moment with you, it was also the day he realized his selfish faults for dragging you into the mess of his life. But, dammit he wanted you so bad, he wanted to keep you, to love you as you loved him, eternally.

He couldn't have that.

Logan Howlett was destined never to have that again, he had decided.

But....the thing is he could've. Right?

He thought to himself, you weren't an average woman, you were an X-Man, an immortal so it seemed. You were no normal woman that he'd lose to time or disasters.

He could have you for decades more, a century longer. A millennia if you both were lucky.

Who else could say that? Just you. Just the two of you, really.

And he's been so desperate to ruin that...for fears that may never come true.

Logan thoughtfully puts his glass down, glancing around as he thinks to himself, what an idiot he was.

He bursts from his seat, a newfound purpose in himself, a revelation that he hadn't had before. He could be happy with you, as long as he protected you, as long as he loved you, as long as he left behind that plague that followed him. Leaving it behind in that stool, tearing himself from the darkness that followed him constantly, he thought only of you.

The things he'd make up for. The moments he'd never taken with you. The days he'd cherish with you. The life you could build together.

But, first, he had to apologize. And fuck, did he have a lot to apologize for.

As Logan's leaving the pub, the news turns on, a broadcast that makes him stop at the door.

"Breaking News, Charles Xavier's school for gifted youngsters, a home for wayward mutants in upstate new york, has been attacked as of 6 p.m. tonight, so far there's been 14 casualties and counting..." as the news anchor speaks, all attention going to Logan at the news. His eyes widening at the helicopter view of the manor ripped to shreds, smoke traveling up the ruined building. A sentinel striking down on the land.

"No," he breathes. "No, no!" Logan rushes out of the pub, to his motorcycle, revving the engine and driving off.

---

Arriving at the institute, driving straight into the smoke filled land, strands of flame, burned fields and falling embers from the crumbling manor. Logan looks around, blood running cold as he runs through the field, finding the bodies of his students, bodies broken or just their limbs seared right off from the beams.

He finds Scott, his eyes staring open into the sky, this glasses broken, but his eyes don't light up with red energy as they would've. He's gone.

Then Jean. A few paces away from Scott. Blood in her hair, reaching out for her husband. Gone.

He doesn't find Ororo until he finds Hank. The both of them dead next to one another, he cradles her in his arms, leaning over her.

"(Y/n)," he gasps out, sick to his stomach. He cries out again. "(Y/n)!"

His voice echoes in the silent, crackling field. The sentinels having gone, the carnage remaining.

A creak of metal falling apart makes him turn quickly, rushing to the noise, the smoke is heavy here, embers flying to the sky.

Creaking metal splits, a sentinel he realizes, but it'd been burned through the inside out, charred.

A body falls out of the crack, hitting the grass as it crumbles.

His grief moves him first, rushing over, "Oh my god, oh my god," he repeats to himself as he runs. "(Y/N)!" Logan screams.

Dropping down in front of his lover, your skin cracked and burned to charcoal, hardened to the touch, beneath the skin, he can still see the flames that scorch beneath. And yet your eyes still find him.

He takes you in his arms, feeling as your body begins to crumble away. "No, no, no, what's happening?" he shudders as he realizes you're not healing. "No, why aren't you--why aren't you healing?" he takes your face in his hands, gentler this time than he had this morning, than he had any day. "Why aren't you healing, baby?"

He looks closely, your body's sustained blasts from explosions, beams, you've walked through flames before. What's going on?

Logan shakes his head. "Why--" he doesn't known what to do. "Come on, come on, please. You've gotta heal, darlin'. Come on."

Your heavy-lidded eyes just stare at him, you breathe subtly, hardly a breath at all.

Tears run freely down Logan's face this time. "I lied," he began quickly. "I had found you before I knew I loved you. I found you in my dreams and in my thoughts before I slept, I found you in every moment of every day, (Y/n), please," he admitted to his love. Eyes flickering around to see if her body would finally start regenerating as it always had, but you continued to crumble and crack. "Please. Please, (y/n), please," he sobbed.

A hiss of steam runs off your face, your tears sizzle away on your skin as they leave you. Your eyes closing briefly as Logan puts your forehead to his, "I love you in every moment," he hiccupped. "Of every day, of every hour," he gasps out as he feels your hand dragging up to his wrist. He takes your hand, it's fragile, cracking beneath the weight of his touch and the effort to move.

"I love you..." you speak with your last breath, sparing it for him.

"I love you," he cried, reaching down, kissing your lips.

He feels your hand crumble to dust in his hands, your legs in his lap lose weight as they follow in the same way. As your lips fall apart, he kisses your forehead, unable to open his eyes to watch as you fall away.

Logan breathes in a painful breath, heart breaking as he can't feel you in his arms any long. Squeezing the remains of you in his fists, he inhales deeply, a stutter of an agonizing sound, he cries as he finds the strength to open his eyes.

Nothing left of his lover, nothing left of you, but the embers that flies in the air, the ashes at his feet.

"Oh god," he cried, bringing himself down to the ground, fisting his hands in your ashes. He shakes violently, weeping into your remains, before sitting up and wailing into the air, a scream ripping through his lungs, tearing at his vocals.

The terrible sound could be heard miles away from the destroyed manor.

---

Years later, Logan sits at a pub. Taking another shot of whiskey.

"Another," he requests.

"No more," the bartender says to him, frowning with a look of disgust. "You know you're not welcome here."

Logan glances up, jaw tightening before sighing, fists unclenching. "Just one more and I'm outta here."

Reluctantly the bartender pours him another.

And then suddenly, a red suited merc jumps out of a portal, clumsily flipping off the pool table and spinning over towards the empty stool next to Logan.

Part 2 coming soon.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : STAY WITH ME (PT.4) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ 2017!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff and angst :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Violence/Abuse, mention of death, emotional distress, strong language, mental anguish

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You, Logan and Charles process the shocking revelation from a video that reveals the horrific experiments on mutant children, including Laura, who is Logan's daughter. Logan struggles with guilt and fear, but you comfort him, assuring him that you're by his side. After arriving in Oklahoma City, you check into a hotel, buy new clothes, and try to rest. Logan opens up about his fears, and you share a special moment, promising to stay with him through the challenges ahead.

Previous Part | Next Part

WHEN YOU LEFT THE STORE OF THE GAS STATION, you saw Laura sitting on the small pony machine while also noticing that Logan had taken a seat in the back of the car next to Charles while looking at a phone.

You flashed Laura a smile before walking back to the car. “Hi.” You said as you also got into the backseat.

Logan immediately looked up at you and gave you a warm smile as he scooted closer to Charles to give you more space to sit.

You also started smiling while looking at Logan. You tried your best to hide it, but you failed miserably. The two of you did kiss a few minutes ago!

“What are we watching?” You asked as you sat down next to Logan.

“I found this phone in the motel room of Gabriela.” Logan explained as he showed you the phone.

Suddenly your smile disappeared. You were so busy with fighting Pierce’s men and escaping, that you totally forgot about Gabriela.

“Did she…?” You started but stopped once you saw Logan nodding.

“I found her dead in her motel room this morning.” Logan said quietly while you cursed under your breath.

“Poor Laura…” You sighed as you turned to the window to look at the girl.

Logan cleared his throat while turning on Gabriela’s phone. “We found a video on her phone. Wanna watch it?”

You sighed as you gave a small nod. You moved closer to Logan and put your chin on his shoulder so you could look at the screen.

“Okay let’s see.” Said Logan, putting on his glasses before playing the video.

You saw how Gabriela appeared on the small screen, introducing herself before taking about Alkali Transigen Research, the company where she worked for then years in Mexico City. Then she said. “What i’m about to show you is illegal in the U.S. and Canada.”

You watched how the video switched to Children walking through a hallway while being escorted by guards.

“What is this?” You asked as you watched intensely. Gabriela started explaining how her and her colleagues were told that they were part of a pharmaceutical study, which was a big lie.

She explained how the children that were showed in the video, were born at the Transigen facility and that they never left. She told that the children were raised in the bellies of Mexican girls before they got experienced on. They told them that the Children were made from “special seeds in bottles”.

While Gabriela explained everything, the video showed camera footage of the children and how they were treated. It was inhuman.

She explained that the children were being trained as soldiers and killers. Then the video cut to an image of Laura lying on a hospital bed while doctors operated on her. Her claws were out and there was blood all over her.

“These are babies of mutants.” Were the last words of Gabriela before the phone turned off.

All three of you, Charles Logan and you were speechless for a moment. You watched how Logan took off his glasses while looking away.

“North Dakota.” Said Charles quietly. Logan hummed. “You took the woman’s money. You said you would take the child there.” Charles continued.

Logan kept quiet as he looked at Laura who was struggling as the Pony stopped moving.

You could feel Logan’s emotions through your telepathic powers. You could feel his anger, sadness and frustration. You wanted to hug him. Tell him that everything was going to be alright, but even you couldn’t say that after seeing the video.

“What is she?” Asked Logan after a while.

“She’s your daughter, Logan.” Answered Charles. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard Charles’ words. And you were sure Logan’s breath was too.

You watched how Logan reached for the door of the car, wanting to get out.

“Alkali has your genetic code.” Charles went on as Logan turned back to him. “Not just mine.” He said before opening the door.

“Logan..” Said Charles softly. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t wanna hear about it anymore.” Sighed Logan as he closed his eyes and got out of the car.

“Logan.” Said Charles again. “Just stop!” Logan said while raising his voice. “I have to pee…” Smiled Charles slightly.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Groaned Logan as he rolled his eyes.

“Logan calm down.” You said as you got out of the car as well. Logan looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, but once his eyes met yours, they immediately softened as he let out a deep breath.

“Okay old man, let’s get you to the bathroom then.” Said Logan calmly.

You watched for a moment how Logan helped Charles out of the car before heading towards Laura while pulling a few coins out of your pocket.

“Here you go.” You smiled as you handed her the new coins. You watched how she put them into the machine, and in no time the pony was back to moving again.

For a moment you just stared at Laura. You felt so bad for her. She must’ve went through some very traumatizing things. That’s why you sensed so much anger every time you were near her.

You stayed with Laura until Logan and Charles came back from the restroom. “Let’s go.” Said Logan as he motioned for you and Lauro to follow him.

Once you were all back in the car, Logan started the engine and drove off. A few hours passed as you drove towards Oklahoma City, the sky already dark as the moon appeared on the horizon.

“Let’s stop here for a few hours. You have to rest Lo.” You said softly while pointing to the side of the road. Logan nodded and turned to the right, slowly stopping next to the highway.

You watched how Logan turned off the car before looking over your shoulder to see that Charles and Laura were already asleep.

“Are you okay?” You asked, breaking the silence. Logan shrugged. “I don’t know.” He sighed while pulling out a phone charger.

“Where did you get that?” You asked. “At the gas station. I need to see the rest of the video.” Said Logan as he put the charger in the charging hole in the car before connecting it to the phone of Gabriela.

“Do you want to get out for a while?” You offered quietly. Logan nodded and got out of the car. You quickly followed after him and watched how he leaned against the car bumper.

“Talk to me Logan.” You whispered as you moved closer to him. Logan spread his legs slightly to let you stand between them.

He watched how you placed your hands on his thighs while looking up at him.

“I don’t know what to say…” Sighed Logan while looking down at you. You nodded, understanding the situation.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it right now. Just whenever you’re ready, okay?” You smiled softly.

Logan nodded before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest.

You immediately hugged back as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you for being here.” He whispered in your ear. “You don’t have to thank me Logan.” You chuckled while playing with his hair.

“No i do.” Said Logan sternly as he slightly pulled away. “I was a complete asshole to you while you were just trying to be there for me the whole time. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.” Logan repeated.

“It’s okay Lo.” You smiled before slowly placing your lips on his. Logan immediately kissed back while one of his hands moved to your hair. He tightened his hold on you while pulling you closer if that was even possible.

“We have to get her to North Dakota, Logan.” You breathed against his lips as you slowly pulled away after a moment.

“I know bub.” Logan said quietly as he cupped your cheek. You closed your eyes at his touch as you leaned closer into him.

“I can’t believe i have a daughter.” Logan spoke after a moment of silence. “I know.” You sighed softly.

“The things they did to her and the other children…it’s horrible.” Logan said slowly. You could feel anger rise in him as he spoke. You kept quiet as you let Logan think about it all for a moment.

“And now they got Caliban too.” Logan sighed while you pulled away from him. You totally forgot about Caliban.

Logan saw your worried expression and immediately grabbed your hand. “We will get him back, i promise.”

You gave Logan a small nod before suddenly yawning. Logan chuckled at the sight before motioning towards the car with his head.

“Go and get some sleep, i’ll be right behind you.” Logan said. You raised one of your eyebrows while looking at Logan. “I promise.” He smiled. “I hope so.” You said quietly while getting back into the car, closing your eyes to get some sleep.

Logan stayed outside for a few minutes longer before getting back in the car as well. You were already deep asleep as Logan carefully reached for Gabriela’s phone.

He turned on the device, put on his glasses and continued with watching the video. He saw some horrible imagines as Gabriela talked about how the children wouldn’t listen. They grew restless but they still didn’t want to fight. That’s why Alkali started working on something new, something they believed to be better than the children. Gabriela explained it all.

The video showed how some of the children were put to sleep or got killed. Gabriela told how she and her colleagues tried their best to help some of the children. She started talking about a place up north. A place for mutants. Eden.

The video ended with Gabriela begging in the camera to take Laura to Eden. to safety.

Logan sighed as he turned off the phone and took off his glasses. He turned towards your sleeping form and carefully reached for your face. Then he turned around so he could look at Laura and Charles.

“Are we going to take her to that so called Eden place?” Your sleepy voice sounded from Logan’s right.

Logan immediately turned back to you and saw how you had one eye open to look at him. Logan’s lips curled up in a small smile while nodding.

“Yeah we are.” He said softly. You started smiling too before closing your eye again. “Good.” You sighed contently.

“Go back to sleep bub, you need your rest too.” Logan said while taking off his jacket, carefully placing it over your body.

Soon you were fast asleep again while Logan kept looking ahead of him, thinking about everything that happened in the past 24 hours.

~

When you woke up a few hours later, you were driving through Oklahoma City. You were enchanted by the many lights of the city. Laura seemed to be as well as she was sitting in front of the backseat window, staring with an open mouth at all the buildings and lights.

“Is this where we’re hiding out?” Asked Charles as he was also looking around.

“We’re not hiding out. We’re gonna get a couple of hours’ sleep, clean up, get some new clothes, get a new ride and get out of here.” Logan said as he looked at Charles through the front mirror before glancing at you.

“Sounds good.” You said softly while smiling at Logan.

Soon you and the others arrived at a big hotel with a casino in it. Logan drove the car in front of the hotel and got out of the car. You and Laura followed after him and watched as Logan helped Charles get out as well.

When Charles was seated in his wheelchair, Logan gave the keys to the valet before pushing Charles towards the entrance of the hotel, you and Laura following.

When you entered the building you couldn’t help but be in awe of what you were seeing. “This is huge.” You said while looking around.

You watched how Laura sped up so she could walk next to Charles as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?” You asked Logan as you grabbed his hand gently. Logan looked down at you and gave you a small smile. “I’m okay.” He answered.

“Can you stay here with Laura and Charles while i’m going to get us a room?” Asked Logan as he stilled. “Yes of course.” You said as you watched how Logan headed into the direction of the reception.

“How are you feeling Charles?” You asked as you looked down at your old friend. “Tired.” He answered with a small smile. “I know. Soon you will be able to get a good couple of hours sleep in a comfortable bed.” You smiled. “Thank God.” Charles chuckled.

“What about you Laura? Are you okay?” You asked as you kneeled down in front of her. She gave you a slight nod before turning away and looking around.

Logan returned shortly after with a key. “Let’s go.” He said as he grabbed Charles’ wheelchair and headed for the elevators.

“Laura let’s go.” Logan said as he looked at the girl. You turned around as well and saw how Laura was standing in front of a store while looking at two mannequins dressed in clothes.

Charles also noticed and chuckled. “We do need some new clothes.” He smirked while looking up at Logan.

“Oh fuck…” Groaned Logan before pushing Charles towards the store with the mannequins.

“Come on it will be fun.” You joked as you slightly bumped shoulders with Logan. “Can’t wait.” Said Logan, his voice laced with sarcasm as you all entered the store.

You watched how Laura immediately went to the children’s section to pick out a new outfit while Charles did the same with the men’s section, rolling himself towards it.

“Wanna help me pick something out?” You asked Logan while tugging on his sleeve. “Yes.” Smiled Logan slightly as he followed you towards the women’s section.

Logan followed you around like a puppy. He watched how you picked up various items, asking him what he thought before putting them back and continuing looking around.

He liked seeing you like this. You looked so adorable as you skipped around the store, trying to pick out an outfit.

“What about this?” You asked Logan as you held up a white tanktop, a black zip up hoodie and black jeans. “Don’t want to draw too much attention right?” You added.

Logan chuckled before nodding. “I’m sure it will look great on you.” Your lips curled up into a smile as your cheeks started to warm up. “Thank you.” You said before walking towards the men’s section.

“Your turn now.” You grinned. Logan rolled his eyes while pointing ahead of him. “You pick something.” You frowned. “You sure?” Logan nodded. “Okay let’s see.” You said as you started skipping around the store once more.

After a few moments you returned to Logan with a whole new outfit.

“What do you think?” You asked while holding up a pair of black jeans, a black t shirt, a blue flannel and a light brown orange jacket.

“Looks good.” Logan approved before taking the clothes from you. “Thank you sweetheart.” He smiled.

Soon the four of you were in the elevator with bags full of clothes and some other things. When you arrived at the room, Logan opened the door and let Charles, Laura and you get in first before following after you.

“We have two bedrooms.” Logan announced as he put all of the shopping bags down on the floor.

“Laura and me can take one room so you and Logan can take the other one.” Charles smiled while looking at you. He probably noticed something changed between you and Logan.

“Thank you Charles.” You said as you felt your cheeks getting warm again. Logan awkwardly cleared his throat as he walked over to Charles. “Let’s get you ready for bed then.”

“I’m going to take a shower okay?” You said while looking at Logan. “Yeah sure take your time.” He said gently as he turned his head to look at you.

You watched how Laura climbed onto the bed while turning on the tv. You gave her a smile which she returned before heading into the bathroom.

You turned the shower on and started to undress yourself. Being extra careful with taking off your shirt because of your stitches. When you were fully naked, you stepped into the shower and washed everything off of you from the last day.

You tried to clear your mind, but found it difficult after witnessing everything in the last 24 hours. You felt sorrow for Laura. How scared she must’ve been all those years. You also felt for Logan whose whole world was collapsing step by step. And then there was Caliban. Captured by Pierce. He was probably dead already or being tortured mercilessly.

“Just take a deep breath.” You told yourself as you started washing your hair and body.

After being in the shower for twenty minutes, you turned it off and wrapped yourself in a towel before exiting the bathroom. You immediately went to the room you shared with Logan to find him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey.” He said softly as his eyes met yours. “Hey.” You said back as you walked over to him. You sat down next to him and took his hand in yours.

Logan looked at your intertwined fingers before speaking up. “I’m afraid.” You could barely hear him as his voice broke.

“Logan…” You sighed as you squeezed his hand.

“Please stay with me.” He said as he looked into your eyes. Your heart broke when your eyes met his. You could see that Logan was trying to hold back tears from falling, which pained you.

“Lo…” You breathed as you gently placed your hand on his right cheek.

“Stay with me.” He repeated. “I will. I will stay Logan, i promise.” You said immediately before pulling him into a tight embrace.

Logan immediately buried his face in the crook of your neck as small tears slipped from his eyes.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.” You whispered into his ear as you pulled him closer if that was even possible.

In your embrace, Logan's trembling form melted into your warmth as he softly cried, the tears a cathartic release after the turmoil of the past 24 hours.

The events that had unfolded left him shaken, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead filled him with a deep, gnawing fear. Yet, in your arms, he found a sanctuary, a place where he could finally let go.

The gentle rhythm of your heartbeat reassured him, providing a momentary shield against his anxieties. As he clung to you, his sobs slowly subsiding, Logan knew that despite the chaos, he wasn’t facing it alone, with you, he finally felt a fragile but precious hope.

“I promise i will stay with you.” You said quietly as Logan slowly pulled away from you.

“Here.” You spoke softly as you gently wiped Logan’s tears away from his face.

“Thank you.” Sighed Logan, feeling a little better after being able to let it all out with you by his side.

“You don’t need to thank me, you know that.” You said while placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up.

Logan watched how you went over to the bag with new clothes and pulled out a simple black t shirt you bought as well to sleep in. You also grabbed a pair of panties and carefully put them on without dropping your towel.

You could feel Logan’s gaze on your back the whole time. Slowly you let your towel drop to the ground, revealing your naked back to Logan before putting on your new shirt.

Logan quickly looked away when you turned around. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you going to take a shower?” You asked. Logan nodded and got up from the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He said as he left a kiss on your lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

You walked over to the left side of the bed and climbed onto it. You quickly covered yourself under the sheets while waiting for Logan.

After about fifteen minutes, Logan emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel which hung low on his hips.

You couldn’t help but stare at the man in front of you. Even with all the bruises on his torso, arms and shoulders, he still looked absolutely beautiful.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.” Logan said with a slight smirk as he grabbed a fresh pair of boxers out of the bag.

You rolled your eyes at his comment and watched how it was now your turn to stare at him as he dropped his towel to put on his boxers.

When he was done, he walked over to you and got into bed as well. “Can i hold you?” He asked softly as he turned to look at you.

You chuckled at the switch in his behavior before nodding. “Of course.” You smiled before letting yourself fall into his arms.

Logan immediately wrapped his arms around you while kissing your shoulder.

“Thank you for staying with me.” He whispered before closing his eyes.

“I’ll always stay with you.” You whispered back before closing your eyes as well, letting sleep fall over you as you snuggled closer to Logan.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @captain039 @spideybv28 @littledebbieinabigworld @itsjenna2u @landlockedmermaid77 @hooomansstuff @strawberriezsweetie @littlemissoblivious @cherrybonbonss @allmyn1ghts @bluetimeombre @persiar9 @sometimesminsan @atrxidxs @evanpetersmood @reidsworld @batrensworld @believeyourgalaxy

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know🫶

Also, i’ve seen a few people commenting things like predicting the ending, so now i have a question for all of you, i’ve already wrote every chapter except the last one, because i wasn’t sure of how to end it😭

We all know how it really ends for Logan but i was thinking of maybe changing that, what would you prefer? A happy ending or a sad ending? IF we go for the sad ending, i will write an epilogue with a sort of happy ending… Let me know in the comments what you prefer!

[bunnyhugs77]

City Seven

Pairing: Jungkook x Waitress! Reader 

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: reader is kind of unfiltered, judgy! reader, quiet! jungkook, pierced! jungkook, inspired by the seven mv, judging a book by its cover, obessed! jungkook, ft jimin, reader eats her words, jungkook is a little cocky.

Other Content

Jungkook is filthy and a little mean, big dick! jungkook, dom! jungkook, strength kink, unprotected sex (don’t even), jungkook has a high sex drive, brat tamer! jungkook?, hair pulling.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Y/n!” Laura practically shouts your name as she walked into the bustling kitchen where you collected three main courses, balancing two on your palms and the last one on your forearm. 

You’d become pretty competent as a waitress after being one for the last three years, balancing the meals and listening to Laura was an easy feat. “What?” You lean in to hear her clearly as the sound of clanging pots and yelled orders were swirling in the air. 

“Let me take this table from you, serve table 4.” Your brows furrowed as you felt Laura help herself to take the plates from you. “W-what are you doing?” You stop her from taking the last plate from you, curious to know what she was up to. 

“Just trust me. They ordered two old fashions, now go!” She says as if she was bursting with anticipation. You let her take the last plate from you, a little disappointed because the family you were serving seemed like they were going to leave a good tip but you trusted Laura. Sort of. 

Once you got hold of the two alcoholic beverages you leaned into the swinging door with your hip and walked through heading to table 4, and once you spotted Jimin sitting there you knew something was up. 

“Two old fashions.” You smile, placing them down gently while making sure nothing spilled. You put Jimin’s down first and for the first time made eye contact with the unfamiliar brunette. 

He smiles at you. “Y/n, this is my friend, Jungkook.” You smile back to be polite. “It’s nice to meet you.” Your expression showed kindness but in your heart, you were more than ready to kill Laura. 

She was always trying to hook you up with someone while on the job. Either way, he wasn’t really your type, he seems too quiet and soft-spoken. Your type was the kind of guy that was more outgoing and could take control. 

Before you could ask the two what they wanted to order you felt a light grip on your bicep tugging you away near the bathrooms. “Laura! What are you doing? I’m trying to do my job.” You weren’t sure if you had said those words out loud based on the way she completely disregarded your words and replaced them with her own.

“He’s cute right?” She inquires and your brows furrow almost immediately at her jumpiness. “Who?” You were playing dumb and it was obvious. 

Laura deadpans. “You know who I’m talking about. Jungkook, obviously. He’s cute right?” Her smile creeps its way back onto her face as she speaks but you back away from her leaning against the wall that you had no idea Jungkook was listening through.

“I mean, yeah sure but he looks too..” Jungkook’s brow raises as he waited for you to find the words. “nice.” You finish. “He looks like he’s a nice guy, y’know? The kind that holds the door and cries when he comes.” Both his and Laura’s jaws drop in astonishment. “I can’t believe you just said that.” Laura covers her mouth giggling with a snort but she soon starts to pout. 

“You really don’t think he’s cute?” She asks again and you groan. Laura was insufferable, she just did not know when to give up. “I never said that. Maybe in the country, he’s a 10, but here, he’s a city 7 at best.” Jungkook had heard enough and made his way back to his seat. 

Never in his entire life had he been ranked anything below a 10, he’s even scored a few 12s but a city 7? How could you? He knew he was a 10. He deserves a 10. Not to mention your little comment about him crying when he comes; he was going to make sure you ate your words.

He made sure to lay it on thick for the rest of the night. Dark stares and suggestive comments, so much so that Jimin had to excuse himself twice just to give you both privacy. 

Whether you wanted to admit it or not this city 7 was starting to grow on you. He had a sarcastic sense of humour paired with an enchanting smile. You supposed you could give him a chance.

One chance was all he needed.

3 weeks and two dates later the two of you found yourselves stumbling into your apartment, with Jungkook kissing you desperately as you both kicked your shoes off and he shrugged off his jacket all while you led him to the bedroom but you paused in your steps at the revelation of his sleeve of tattoos. 

you had no idea these were hiding beneath his denim jackets and turtlenecks. if you’d known about the tattoos and the bulging muscles that were covered up so well, you never would’ve called him a 7. He’s a total 10, and he was about to prove it to you.

“W-wha-” you loosely pointed your finger to his muscular physique as he worked on undoing his belt. he grins wickedly as he glances up, relishing in the victorious feeling of seeing you go awestruck at the sight of his body.  

he steps towards you slowly, the branded waistband of his boxers peeking over his jeans. “what? never seen a few tattoos before?” he smiles in that same pleasing way he always does and it irks you, because you know he knows what he’s doing. 

all this time you’ve been underestimating him. “what-- when, how- “ he gently cups your face and whispers against your lips, “You ask too many questions.” that was the last thing you heard before his lips were on yours again.  

The kiss was unlike any of the tender and sweet ones from before. this one was hungry, messy and bordering animalistic. The way his tongue worked with yours in an erotic harmony made you forget all about your presumptions of him when you first met him. he may be quiet but he most certainly wasn’t shy, especially not now. 

he laid you down on the bed and he kissed all over your body. abusing your sweet spot that was below your ear. the sounds of your heavy breathing that slowly but surely morphed into breathy moans were only inflating his ego. if he could get you this desperate just from his mouth he knew he could absolutely ruin you with his cock.

for you on the other hand the last 45 minutes seem to have been a blur. One minute you and jungkook were out at the bar listening to the jazz band fill the room with an undeniably sensual ambience. you were feeling a bit bold and let your heel run up the inseam of his pants under the table. 

and he’d warned you to stop since you were in public but you were in a defiant mood and continued anyways. pressing down his cock with the tip of your stilettos watching his accessorized fist ball up the tablecloth in an attempt to bite back his groan. within seconds you felt his grip around your ankle and push your foot down before abruptly standing up. 

not without discreetly adjusting himself in his slacks but of course you noticed it. “Get up. We’re leaving.” he orders but you pouted, “but I wanted to listen to the music.” The look he gave you was like none other he’d seen before. you were used to pushing his buttons, it was just in your nature to piss him off but he usually didn’t care much or if he did he didn’t show it. 

“Now.” you roll your eyes and followed him out of the bar. 

It's thanks to your previous behaviour that jungkook had decided to edge you twice on his fingers and tongue. you were squirming and insufferable forcing him to pin your thighs down with his arms as he continued to eat you out like a man starved. 

“ju-jungkook! please-” you begged, refusing to look at the man between your legs, staring up at the tear-blurred ceiling instead. “Please what? What do you want?” He’s an evil man for asking you such a question and cutting you off with the works of his tongue once again leading you to scream out. 

you sounded like sin, wrapped in a body that was clearly shaped by the gods above and gifted to him personally. “let me cum--please!” He pulls away from you right when he felt you were on the edge again, pushing down on your legs as he felt you begin to thrash around.

“stay still princess, or I won’t let you cum.” the name was doing you wonders and you swore you could see stars. “please, I’ve been good.” and jungkook just has to laugh, because what a fucking liar you are. “Really? Do you think teasing me out in public is being good? Why should I let you cum hm? Aren’t I just a City 7? Only 10′s can make you cum right?” 

your eyes shot open wide and for the first time you looked down at him in shock, “y-you heard me-” he didn’t give you the chance to respond before he was abusing your clit with his tongue bringing you over the edge so quickly your body could hardly process it. you came with the scream of his name. 

“Look who’s crying when they cum.” he mocks you, throwing your own words back in your face.  

Without a break, you were being manhandled and flipped over onto your stomach as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. your back arching at the intrusion of the swollen head of his cock pushing between your folds. jungkook had to brace himself as he thrust inside your soaked cunt.

a deep groan falls from his lips at the feeling he’d been searching for for weeks. He’s dreamt about this moment for weeks, way before you even knew who he was. When he’d seen pictures of you and Jimin at Laura’s place he knew he had to have you. 

“ooh fuck!” you moan once jungkook bottomed out, you hadn’t realized just how thick he was until you felt his cock split you open all around “yeah, you like that?” You nod repeatedly, unable to speak. Your arms were feeling weak and soon your head was flush against your pillows. 

“Answer me, baby.” he grunts, punctuating his demands with a particularly powerful snap of his hips. one that sent the fat of your ass rippling with each thrust. “yes! fuck! I love it, love your cock, please don’t stop.” you whine loudly taking everything he gave you. 

That only encouraged him to absolutely drill into your poor pussy, the sounds of your bare flesh slapping against one another ricocheted off the walls and back into your ears. you had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into with him. you felt yourself inching closer and closer to that ecstasy, you were so close you could taste and jungkook could most certainly feel it. 

the way your walls convulsed around him nearly restricting his range of motion, “Ah shit baby, you feel so fucking good.” he groans next to your ear, the tone of his voice sending you into shock. god you were so close, but jungkook was slowing down. “why-” 

“you wanna cum?” he asks you, and you nod as if you were on autopilot. “please,” you beg for the nth time. “Then take it back.” you really tried your best to understand what he was referring to. “Take back what you said about me being a city 7” you hesitated for a minute, regaining enough strength to hold yourself up again, fighting between your bratty nature and your throbbing pussy. 

“Okay fine, you can get yourself off.” he shrugs, beginning to pull out but you push your hips back up against his pelvis. “No- no!” he grins at the sound of your objections, resuming his wild pace as though he had never stopped. 

he pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, his erratic thrusts never faltering as he did so, “Say it.” he growls in your ear and your eyes roll back as you felt his cock rub against a certain spot within you, “I take it back! You’re a 10, everything about you is a 10, you’re a 10- fuck! please let me cum!” he smiles, satisfied with your words. 

“Cum.” you didn’t hold back, you came down with a piercing moan that you’re sure your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow morning, jungkook following closely behind you. 

--

Initially, you’d thought you and Jungkook’s little night would be a one-time thing but he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you, no matter how hard he tried. 

His dick begged to see you again, and he made sure he did.

At Jimin’s birthday party, he had you bent over the bathroom counter, he would come over and fuck you against the wall, holding you up steady as ever as he pounded into you. Every second of every day he found a way to be inside you.

That’s how you found yourself tangled up in his sheets the morning after one of the filthiest nights you’d ever experienced with a guy. “Good morning,” you heard Jungkook whisper in the rasp of his morning voice as he kissed your collarbones. Slowly making his way up your neck, “Jungkook, aren’t you tired?” 

He shrugs with a foolish grin, “Why would I be? I’ll never get tired of fucking your brains out.” You laugh, “Really? Never?” He shakes his head.

“Seven days a week.”

[faithshouseofchaos]

Trying to match the obsessive vibes mafia Lando had in part one (which is absolutely excellent) I personally think their first meeting wouldn't be as much of a coincidental meet cute as he makes it seem. Basically, he saw her and stalked her to find info so that he was attractive to her from the first moment. Then she starts "coincidentally" running into him everywhere. If she works at a coffee shop or something he always tips her extremely well to show how good he could take care of her. Just my thoughts.

“A name to a face” — Dark ex mafia Lando Norris x reader

part one part two part three part four part five part six

Word count 2k

Warnings — angst kidnapping reader being locked away.

Tagged— @bethanymccauley @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @alwayzbeenale @a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @67-angelofthelordme-67 @bblouifford @bbtoni @biancathecool @barcelonaloverf1life @badassturtle13 @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @entr4p3 @formulas-bitch @formulaal @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @cinderellasmissingshoes @ironcowboycopnickel @jvpiterzs @jeffs77 @llando4norris @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @moss-on-tmblr @mrsgeorgerussell63 @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @regalbanshee @strugglingyetvibing @sweate-r-weathe-r @swifth0lic @toasttt11 @the-ghost-lovwr @tallrock35 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @crispysoup318

There was no escaping from Lando. He had you locked away from the rest of the world and there was no hope. After 20 minutes of trying to pry the window open, you gave up. Sliding down the wall you sat there wishing you could go back in time to stop yourself from agreeing to that date with Lando.

That was a naive thing to think. When Lando wanted something he’d do anything to get it even if that thing was you. With no hope and no real chance of escaping from him, you were stuck and it was only a matter of time before you had to depend on him.

*Flashback to when you met Lando*

You weren’t paying attention. The conversation you were having with your friend was more important than paying attention to where you were walking.

Your friend was telling you about her latest hookup and how he was, according to her, the greatest lay of her life.

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed by her story. In truth, you were secretly a little envious. Your own love life had been nonexistent lately. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been on a date, let alone had a decent hookup.

As you were lost in thought, you abruptly slammed into something hard. The impact knocked the wind out of you and you stumbled backwards, nearly losing your balance. You looked up to see what you had run into and froze. A pair of piercing blue eyes were staring down at you.

The man you had run into was, without a doubt, the most attractive person you had ever seen. He was tall and lean with tousled brown hair and a cocky smile. He was wearing a faded t-shirt that showed off his muscular arms and jeans that clung to him perfectly.

He looked you up and down, his smile widening a bit as he took you in. "Sorry, love," he said, his voice smooth and easy. "I didn't see you there."

You swallowed, speechless. You couldn't take your eyes off of him, his presence was overwhelming. "It's... it's fine," you managed to stammer out. "I wasn't paying attention."

The man chuckled, his eyes still on you. "No, you were too busy listening to your friend rattle on about her latest conquest," he said with a wink.

Your cheeks flushed, caught off guard by his observation. You looked over at your friend, who was now looking between you and the man as if she was watching a tennis match. The man noticed her reaction and chuckled again. "No need to look so embarrassed, love," he said, his eyes flickering over to her for a moment before returning to you. "I won't tell anyone what you two were talking about."

The man giving one last wink walked away from the two of you. You watched him walk away, unable to tear your eyes off of him. He sauntered away, his casual confidence drawing your attention.

Your friend tugged on your arm, pulling you out of your trance. "Oh my god, he was so hot!" she exclaimed, fanning herself dramatically. You snapped out of your daze and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he was," you said, still watching him as he walked away.

Your friend nudges you playfully. "You should have asked for his number," she teased, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

You felt your cheeks flush a bit. "I... I don't know," you stammered, feeling a bit flustered. "He was definitely out of my league. He was way too hot for me."

Your friend rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on," she said, giving you a playful shove. "Don’t be so hard on yourself. You're gorgeous and you can have any guy you want."

You smiled weakly at her words, but you still had doubts. The man you bumped into had seemed so carefree and confident, he was probably used to having girls throw themselves at him. There was no way he would be interested in someone like you.

Oh how wrong you were…

*present time*

It had been hours since you saw Lando. He was true to his words and kept you locked away from the world. After what felt like hours of being alone in the room, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. They stopped outside the door and you heard the sound of metal against metal as Lando unlocked the door.

The door opened slowly and Lando stepped into the room, a neutral expression on his face. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, looking at you.

"Hungry?" he asked, his voice nonchalant. You looked at him, your stomach grumbling at the mention of food. You hadn't eaten since this morning and the hunger pangs were getting worse by the hour.

Lando saw the look on your face and chuckled. "I take that as a yes," he said, pushing himself off from the door and walking over to you. He picked up the chair that was beside the bed and placed it in front of you before sitting down. He leaned back in the chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked completely relaxed and at ease, a stark contrast to your tense and nervous demeanor.

"I've got food downstairs," he said, his eyes roaming over you. "But I thought we could have a little chat first."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, waiting for him to continue.

Lando leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs as he looked at you intently.

"We need to talk about what's going to happen going forward," he said, his voice soft but authoritative.

"I know you're not happy about the current situation," he continued, his gaze not budging from your face. "But believe me when I say you're going to learn to love it eventually."

You wanted to argue with him, to tell him that he was crazy and that you would never love being locked away like a prisoner. But deep down you knew it would be pointless. Lando had already made up his mind and nothing you said would change it.

Lando saw the resignation on your face and nodded, satisfied. "Good," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You've already learned the first lesson."

He leaned back in the chair again, his arms resting behind his head. "I have rules," he said, his tone turning more serious. "And if you want things to go smoothly, you better follow them."

Your heart sped up at the mention of rules. You had a feeling they were going to be strict and probably unreasonable. "What rules?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"First rule," Lando said, holding up one finger. "You will not try to escape. I've taken all the necessary precautions to make sure you can't leave, but I don't want any stunts."

"Second rule," he said, holding up a second finger. "You're never leaving this room unless I say so. I've got guards on watch at all times, so don't think you can slip past them."

"Third rule," he said, holding up a third finger. "You are not to talk to anyone other than me. No calls, no texts, no emails. You are mine and mine only, and I won't tolerate any distractions."

Your heart sank at the last rule. He was completely isolating you from the rest of the world. "What about my family? My friends?" you asked, panic creeping into your voice.

"You don't need them," Lando said, his tone cold. "I'm all you need. They can't take care of you the way I can."

"And the fourth rule…" Lando said, holding up a fourth finger. "Is probably the most important rule. You are mine. You belong to me. I own you. Every part of you, body and soul."

"You belong to me, and me only," he continued, his eyes scanning your face. "You will not talk to other guys, look at other guys, or even think of other guys. You're mine completely."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a chill down your spine. It was like he didn't see you as a person, but as an object that he owned and controlled. And deep down, you knew it was true.

Lando leaned back in the chair, studying you. "Understand all the rules now?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual. You nodded, feeling completely resigned to your fate. There was no point in resisting or arguing. Lando had you completely in his grasp.

Lando smiled, satisfied with your compliance. "Good," he said, standing up from the chair. "Now come here." You tensed up at his command, but you knew better than to disobey. You stood up and walked over to him, stopping a few feet away. He stepped closer to you until he was mere inches away. He reached out and ran a hand through your hair, his touch gentle but possessive.

"You look perfect like this," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your face. "Completely under my control."

*flashback*

It had been a week since you bumped into the mystery man as your friend called him. There was something strange about him that you couldn’t understand but it made you want to know more about him. The only problem was you didn’t know where to look for him.

Lando on the other hand was completely obsessed with you, he had made it his mission to figure out who you were. It wasn’t hard Lando had clocked a camera above your little interaction so all he had to do was go to the local police station and pull the footage and run your image through the database to find out who you were.

Lando walked up to the front desk, he knew how to charm his way through anything and he was about to test that theory. "Hi there," he said, flashing a charming smile at the young police woman behind the desk. "I need a little favor."

The woman behind the desk raised an eyebrow, clearly not thrilled by his advances. “What kind of favor?” she asked, her tone wary.

Lando leaned casually against the desk, still sporting his charming smile. "I need to get access to some security camera footage," he said, putting on his most innocent expression.

The woman eyed him skeptically. "And what exactly do you need the footage for?" she asked, her suspicions clearly not eased.

Lando chuckled, his confidence not wavering. "Let's just say I’m doing a little investigation of my own," he said, his voice low and smooth. "There was this guy who robbed me of something very important and I’m trying to track him down. I have a good idea of what he looks like and I’m hoping the security cameras in the area can help me identify him."

The woman seemed to soften a bit at Lando’s story. "That’s rough,” she said, sympathy in her voice. "But I can't just give away camera footage to anyone who asks. There are strict protocols."

Lando’s smile never faltered. "Of course, I understand that,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I’m not asking for you to just hand over the footage. I just need a quick look to see if anything useful is on it."

The woman paused for a moment, clearly contemplating the situation. "If it’s just a quick look, I suppose it couldn’t hurt," she finally said. "But I’ll have to stay with you to make sure you don’t do anything funny with the footage."

Lando chuckled, feigning offense. "Me, do something funny? You wound me," he teased, enjoying this little game. "I promise I’ll be on my best behavior."

The woman rolled her eyes but seemed to be lightening up a bit at his charm. "Alright, let’s go then," she said, standing up from the desk and gesturing for Lando to follow her.

Lando followed the woman through the station, still wearing his charming smile. He felt a rush of excitement, knowing that he was finally about to find out who you were. The woman led him to a small room with two computers, clearly the room they used for reviewing security camera footage. She gestured for him to sit down in front of one of the computers and took a seat next to him.

The woman must have noticed the intense focus on Lando’s face as he watched the footage, his eyes never leaving your figure. “Find something?” she asked, watching his facial expressions intently.

Lando snapped back to reality, realizing he had been staring a bit too intently. He quickly composed himself and looked at the woman with a charming smile. "Yeah, I think I did," he said, his voice betraying none of his true emotions. "I think I know who the guy is. Thanks for your help, love."

The woman raised an eyebrow at the “love” comment but decided to let it slide. “You’re welcome,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Just make sure you use the information appropriately.”

Lando chuckled, standing up from the chair. "Don’t worry, I have only the most noble intentions,” he said, his tone dripping with confidence. “Thanks again, love." With that, Lando left the room, his mind racing with thoughts of you.

Lando smiled to himself as he left the police station, a sense of satisfaction filling his chest. He finally had a name and a face to go along with it. The chase was on.

[eloquentlytired]

— when the time comes

pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader

word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.

tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship

author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

god stood me up

and I don't know why

lights are on

but nobody's home

you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.

logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.

there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.

“you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.

he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.

you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”

“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.

“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.

“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.

when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.

[munsonthings86]

we've been celestial even before this

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after she has a particularly rough day, steve takes his girl stargazing

warnings: cursing, fluff, soft!steve, established relationship (but still fairly new), oversimplified summary, reader depicted to be nineteen, these two being the biggest lovesick idiots for each other

an: i've been having a lot of fun writing about these two. they own my entire heart. hope you guys enjoy this one * don't copy my work *

wc: 6.1k

steve and sunshine's timeline

The trembling flame of the Coffee House scented candle illuminated your messy bedroom in a flickering, warm, honey light. The smell of the candle resembled nothing of coffee, more like hot cocoa or caramel you thought, but it did its job of calming your rattled nerves, nonetheless. Most of your wooden floor was hidden beneath neglected pieces of clothing that you'd pulled from your closet in a hopeless attempt to string together a decent outfit that morning. I'll tidy up tomorrow, you shrugged, though knowing you, there was a high possibility that "tomorrow" would turn into next week.

Procrastination was a terrible habit of yours, and the tension that the day left you with was doing very little to diminish it. Your early morning shift at Family Video was borderline torturous; Keith saw to that when he scheduled you sans Steve and Robin and had two inept new hires shadow you. Sure they were nice and all, from what you can recall anyway, but you were too out of it to bestow on them the patience you typically had.

Once the stint came to its much desired end, a dreadful date at the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles awaited you. In your venture to become more of an independent and responsible "adult" (being merely nineteen, the word made your blood run cold), the goal of obtaining your permit was set in stone. The written test was passed with flying colors, but like any classic BMV nightmare, you'd forgotten a required document to actually get the damn permit.

Nearly plunging to your knees, you begged the grumpy old woman behind the counter to let you run back to your apartment that was “just down the street”. Truthfully, it was a thirty minute trip on foot, but she didn't need to know that. If you ran, you could make it back in twenty.

But, again, like any classic BMV nightmare, all she left you with was a hardly sympathetic, "Sorry ma'am, but if you don't have all the required documents, I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. The office closes in fifteen minutes." Through clenched teeth, you thanked her for her time, though she neglected to return the gesture, squawking "Next in line!" in a tone that was poles apart from her customer service voice.

Mercifully, your day wasn't all terrible. On the way back home, you stopped by the library to return a week's long overdue book and, instead of crucifying you for it, the lovely librarian recommended a novel she thought you'd appreciate. Rose in Splendor by Laura Parker. Unbeknownst to her, you'd been dying to read it ever since it was published last year. The grouch over at the BMV could definitely take a page out of her book. No pun intended.

Curled into bed and tucked under your beloved ivory crotched blanket, you thumbed along the pages through gravelly, blurry eyes. You kept promising yourself "one more page", but that was well over ten pages ago.

The male love interest was recounted having perfectly tousled brown hair with a body to die for, and you couldn't help but to think of your Steve. You missed him terribly in that moment and the one thing that kept your woe at bay was the anticipation of you two's nightly phone call. It was the selling point of all your days spent without him, truth be told.

The chime of the landline in the hallway between your kitchen and bedroom pierced through the otherwise silence of your apartment, prompting you to glance at the clock on your wall. 9:32 p.m.

Speak of the devil.

Folding a little doggy ear onto the page to preserve your place, the blanket keeping your legs warm was tossed among your strewn out clothes as you nearly slipped, scurrying to answer the phone. You couldn't bite back your smile as you pressed the receiving end against your ear, hearing the music that was Steve's voice, fill your mind.

"Hi, sunshine."

A breath that was unknowingly caged, freed itself at the sound. "You're nearly on time," you teased, referring to earlier today when Steve promised to call you at 9:30 sharp tonight. Usually, he called you earlier than this, but he was jammed with babysitting duties for the six kids you were considering adopting for yourself at this point.

"I know, I'm sorry," he chuckled. "They finally fixed that game at the arcade that's been down for the past few weeks. Gaga, I think it's called."

"Galaga," you corrected, giggling to yourself. It wasn't a rare occurrence whenever the kids would drag you along on one of their many hangouts, so you were rather well-versed in their nerdy recreations. "Yeah, that's the one. I could barely pry their grubby little hands off the thing. Especially Dustin."

Based on his tone, the roll of Steve's eyes as he spoke was nearly audible. As much as he complained about constantly having to be the one to look after the party, there was a part of him that covertly loved the fact that they depended on him so much. Not only was it somewhat of an ego boost, but he's always dreamed of having little nuggets of his own to protect and guide and treasure.

The daydream of Steve being the ideal father, unlike his own dad ever was, reeled your bottom lip between your teeth as the cord of the landline fell into the trap of your twirling fingers. It was so vivid; a shirtless Steve wearing blue jeans that hugged his bottom so perfectly, driving a rackety lawn mower along the wild grass of the front yard to the house you may or may not have pictured the pair of you living in.

In that utopia, the children that you may or may not have pictured parenting with Steve, sat behind the lemonade stand that was built by their father, giggling and toying with a leaky hose as they awaited customers. You'd be watching your little family from the boxy window of the kitchen, fixing them an afternoon snack, unable to contain your laugh when the hose goes haywire, soaking your lover from head to toe.

The imagery made you giggle out loud, head falling against the wall as your stomach cramped. "What?" Steve asked, laughing along with you though it's purely out of instinct, because of course he didn't know what you were laughing about. But hearing your audible delight was contagious. He couldn't help it.

"It's nothing," you assured, smiling softly before continuing, "just hoping your day was better than mine was."

"Well I don't like the sound of that," he frowned, sneakers squeaking against his floor as he shifted his weight onto his other leg. He watched as the days worth of dirt that'd found solace on his shoes, abandon patterned scuffs on the wood. Memories of the pointed sound of his mothers voice demanding no shoes in the house rang through his head like a siren at the sight. He would've ditched his footwear at the door, but he knew he was running late for his phone date.

"What happened?"

Commencing your response with a weary sigh, you shrugged, laughing dryly, "A lot. It's not even funny how exhausted I am right now."

Steve's chest tightened. He hated when you had a bad day; it left a bad taste in his mouth. Even worse, whenever Steve would make an effort to get to the bottom of what ailed his girl, he had a less than impressive success rate, seeing as vulnerability was one of your shortcomings. Steve knew better than to pry. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to do his damnedest to make these final hours of the day your best.

"I'm sorry to hear that, honey," he lowered his head, offering a comforting smile that though you couldn't see, you could hear in his voice. "'S alright," he heard you murmur.

It fell silent for a beat before Steve inquired, "When are you comin' home?", to which you furrowed your eyebrows, letting out a confused chuckle. "Uh, I am home."

Jokingly, the boy scanned his apartment and though he saw some of your forgotten belongings from previous visits, he couldn't seem to pinpoint you. "That's weird, I don't see ya. You hiding somewhere?"

The laugh that erupts from your core at your sappy boyfriend is inescapable. Your shoulders quake as you snicker and Steve's never heard a sound so sweet. Mission accomplished. For now, anyway. "You're an idiot."

"For you, yeah," he retorts, "thought we already established that." The apples of your cheeks are growing sore as Steve's honeyed words denies your smile the chance to falter. Any inconvenience that was precedent to this very moment was long forgotten by virtue of the prince charming that was your boyfriend.

"I'll come see you soon, lover boy," you quipped.

"You makin' fun of me?" He was completely unoffended. Prior to the few weeks of you dating, Steve spent the better part of the past decade containing his cascading love for you behind the dire dam of the friendzone. Despite delay, the dam was broken and there was no playing "Mr. Cool Guy". Steve was crazy about you. And he'd be even crazier to not show it.

"I wouldn't be me if I didn't," you teased. "I'm gonna head to bed, though. I have another shift in the mornin'. That damn Keith," you rolled your eyes, groaning as Steve laughed through his nose.

"Alright, sunshine, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," you glowed. "G'night, Stevie." You waited for him to respond with a "goodnight" of his own before returning the phone back to its base, already pining for your boyfriend's presence again. Though you poked fun at it, what Steve said about you not being "home" wasn't just him being sappy. You were feeling the same way.

No matter where you were, whether it was school, work, the arcade, shit, you could be in the Upside Down, but as long as Steve was there, you felt at home. It made you reflect on the times where you'd be lying in bed, unable to slip into a slumber as you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to go home, though geographically, that's exactly where you were. It was because you missed Steve. And any place where he was absent, was no home of yours.

Sauntering back into your bedroom and kicking away garments to clear a path, you cocooned your body into the blanket that was now stained with the scent of your burning candle, and continued from where you left off in your book. You figured you'd make some decent progress to hopefully avoid another late fee at the library.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It'd been forty minutes later, give or take, when you stood on sore legs, cleansing and moisturizing your face before calling it a night. Your dull eyes wore dark and heavy circles like a hideous skirt, a clear manifestation of the fatigue you were weathering. You rubbed at them unkindly with the hopes of looking even a little more lively, but to no avail.

The bulb of the bathroom went out like a flame once you flicked the switch off, and you abandoned the journey back to your room at the sound of a series of knocks to the front door. Clasping the opening of your robe with shaky hands, you wondered who could be here at this hour. You weren't expecting any visitors. Approaching the door with hushed footsteps, a miniscule view of none other than Steve Harrington could be seen through the peephole of your door.

The tension in your shoulders dissipated, ribs doing their best to cage your fluttering heart. You squealed, fingers fumbling with the lock and you could swear the metal thing had something against you, the way it stalled to unlatch. Steve smiled from the other side of the door as he watched the knob twist and jangle, warmed to know that you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you.

The brown lettering that labeled the white entryway '2F' swung out of view and Steve made eye contact with you for a split second before stumbling back a bit when you threw yourself into him.

Elevating yourself with the tips of your toes to reach him, you trapped his neck between your arms as he returned your hug with one arm, the other remaining properly tucked behind his back. "Hello to you too," he laughed breathlessly before briefly stamping a kiss to your shoulder.

"What're you doing here?" you buzzed, pressing little pecks to as much of his dotted skin as you could. You were suddenly a ball of energy. Finally at home. "When you said later, I thought you meant, like, tomorrow or something."

"Well, I missed you," a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Wanted to come see ya."

The smile he wore carved thin lines into his cheeks as he spoke, walking your tangled bodies back into the quietude of your apartment. He stopped at your cutesy welcome mat, kicking his shoes off before revealing his arm that held a bouquet of just about the prettiest flowers you'd ever seen.

"Steve," you pouted, releasing your hold on his shoulders, "they're gorgeous." Cradling the peach hued roses dressed in a newspaper-style wrapping paper, your eyebrows scrunched together as you reminded yourself of the time. "What florist is open at 10 p.m.?"

The boy chuckled, locking the door behind him. The plaid pajama pants he wore swung loosely on his legs as he approached you. "There isn't," he ran fingers through his disheveled hair that was long overdue for a trim, "I saw them while I was out with the kids and I thought of you, so I got 'em." He shrugged like it was nothing.

"I was gonna surprise you with them at work tomorrow, but I figured I'd just give 'em to you now, ya' know, all things considered."

Heat rushed to your chest and face as you ogled him, filled with an overwhelming sense of luck to be his. Your feelings toward him felt so immense that at times, you could barely articulate yourself. Words of love and adoration raced through your mind a million miles a second yet you always found yourself terribly speechless.

Steve was so open with his affection for you. It’s a love people pray to experience at least once in their lifetime. And what a heaven-sent gift it was to earn that kind of love from Steve.

These would look perfect by the living room, you thought, turning to the kitchen to retrieve a vase after slipping him a fleeting kiss.

Scouring the white cabinets, you almost failed to remember that you didn't particularly own a vase, given the fact that you'd never actually received flowers before. The realization dejected you a bit.

Steve trailed behind you mindlessly, a frown weighing on his lips as he watched your shoulders droop. Leaning against the space on the counter next to you, he slid down a little, leveling with you, "What's wrong, honey?"

A mumbled, "I've never gotten flowers before," left a pang in his chest, your eyes never leaving the shelves of your cluttered cupboard. "Never needed a vase before."

It was now Steve's turn to slump his shoulders while he gazed at you with sad eyes. How could someone so lovely, so divine as you, not be treated the way you deserved? He would buy you flowers every day if you wanted and he had to bite his tongue when he almost cursed himself for not doing it already. But it's okay. He was here now.

Luring your waist into his body with those burly hands of his, he spoke with assurance laced in his voice, "Well, that's okay," he cooed. "Here, use one of these for now," he pulled a mug that you would've otherwise had trouble reaching, as it sat on the very top shelf, "and tomorrow we'll pick out a nice pretty vase for ya'."

Filling the black cup with water, he planted the roses down as neatly as he could. The flowers sat in the mug awkwardly, all splayed out with the stems way too long for your liking. But somehow, it still managed to be nothing short of perfect. "Cute, a little weird," you shrugged, a smile teasing your mouth, "but cute."

Steve chuckled lowly, situating himself between your legs once you sat on the surface of the tile countertop. "That's funny."

"What is?"

"I said the same about you when I first met you," he laughed, unable to contain his smile before getting the joke out. The face you made didn't help. "Shut up, Harrington," you jab at his shoulder softly, cracking a smile of your own.

Though there was a newfound romance, the typical banter that was mutually exchanged wasn't going anywhere. You were glad that nothing changed between you when you started dating.

Toying with the drawstrings on Steve's Gap hoodie, you began zoning out, the thought of going to bed while cuddled up with your boyfriend, sounding all too alluring. Looking up at him, he was already intently staring at you with painfully adoring eyes and you couldn't help but melt under his heated gaze. "Hi," you muttered, shyness clouding you.

"Hi, sunshine," he smiled, adjusting the collar of your robe with careful fingers. "I'm sorry your day sucked."

"It doesn't, anymore," you replied, sincerely. Steve's eyes lit up at that. It wasn't a secret to anyone that his presence alone seemed to be the antidote for some of your worst days. You'd even admitted it yourself, once or twice. But it never failed to ignite the nerves in Steve's body with fervor.

Although you were completely honest that your mood had gone up about ten octaves since he'd been there, Steve didn't want to just be there. He wanted to do more. It was what you deserved.

"You up for a little adventure?"

"Depends," you squinted. "What kinda adventure are we talking about?" He shifted his weight onto his other leg as his eyes veered off to the ceiling, thinking.

Steve happened to have a few tricks up his sleeve.

"There's somewhere I wanna take you," he drummed a rhythmless beat on your thigh with his fingers. The sneaky expression on Steve's face told you everything you needed to know. He was up to no good. As much as you wanted to go on a late night escapade with your boyfriend, you had to be somewhat, even a little, responsible.

"Steve, it's late and we both have work in the morning," you huffed, losing your grip on the strings you'd been distracting yourself with.

Steve playfully rolled his eyes, flinging his body out of your clutches dramatically. He was going to get you to cave. Whether you already knew it or not. "Alright, grandma, I promise to have you back home at a reasonable hour. Deal?"

The internal battle on whether you should stay or go was evident in your features, though, realistically you had already come to the conclusion that you'd humor him. The "grandma" bit is what really did it for you.

"This is a dumb idea."

"I'll be waiting by the car," he smiled an accomplished smile before leaving the kitchen. Letting out another sharp exhale, you hauled your body off the counter and headed towards your bedroom, discerning that a robe probably wasn't the dress code for wherever it was Steve was taking you.

Concealing your underlying tank top with a hoodie almost similar to Steve's, you threw on some sneakers before snuffing out the diminishing candle. Giving your appearance a once-over in the mirror, you wondered what you'd just gotten yourself into. Though any time with Steve was time well spent, you couldn't help but to look at your bed longingly as you shut off the lights to your apartment, meeting Steve outside.

He stood by the passenger side of the car, fiddling with a loose thread by the end of his sleeve. The fall season brought a night frigid breeze that blew his hair over his eyes like a curtain, making him pout. You hugged your body as you neared him, brushing his brown tresses from his face, though the wind reversed your efforts in no time.

He pressed a kiss to your palm as he became a puddle under your touch, appreciating the way your toasty hand felt against his icy skin. Steve took his own turn rubbing at your arms when he saw you visibly shiver, teeth nearly chattering. "You wanna tell me where we're goin'?" Misty clouds left short-lived trails in the air between the two of you when you spoke.

"Now where's the fun in spoiling the surprise now?" He opened the car door to punctuate his sentence, gesturing you inside. You could only rebut with a roll of your eyes as you entered, though you and Steve both knew you were loving every bit of this. It warmed your heart knowing he was so keen on saving your day from the horror it started it out to be.

Digging through the glove compartment, you sifted through old receipts and other rubbish that really needed to be thrown away, searching for the mixtape you and Steve made for little times like these. Moments that may now seem small, but would soon become memories that you'd cherish for years to come. It served as a little time capsule; hearing the songs you two carefully picked, easily transporting you to these times even when you'd become gray and old.

As Steve began driving off, your fingers found the sneaky cassette that was scribbled with yours and Steve's initials along with doodles of suns, to represent you, and poorly drawn anchors in honor of Steve's Scoop Ahoy era, to represent him.

Regardless of Steve's slight disdain for that period of time, it was one of your favorites and obviously that was due to the fact that the uniform he wore, showed off his legs in the best way possible. It was the perfect eye candy that summer.

The low sound of Bob Marley singing Could You Be Loved floated through the quietness of the car, easing away any tension within you that might've still been trapped. You admired the way the town was so still. The time was hardly 11 p.m., yet there wasn't a soul to be seen; only lonely litter that drifted through the breeze, aimlessly. It was a stark difference from just a few hours ago when you had to dodge shoulders as you cut through the crowded streets on your way home.

The sky was dark and empty apart from the glowing crescent moon that seemed to be chasing you as you drove. It was the only light source you had aside from the street lights that lined the sidewalks. You started counting them and even got to as far as nineteen, but soon lost count once Steve picked up his speed a bit.

Your eyelids threatened to close as the calming drive coupled with the music, fought to lull you to sleep. But instead, bright neon lights stung your sensitive eyes that grew accustomed to the darkness. Squinting, you read the colorful sign labeled "Darling's Diner", and nostalgia strikes you. It had been years. Too many years since you and Steve had been here last.

"Holy shit," you glimmered, hurriedly unbuckling your seatbelt. Steve's hand that found comfort on your thigh during the ride gave it a squeeze before he put the car in park, rushing over to open your car door. He took your hand in his, adoring the way your stunned face gleamed under the glow of the pink and blue neon bulbs. "Surprise," he cheered in a low tone, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours.

The smile you had burned your cheeks but the elation you felt made it all too easy to ignore. The feeling you got whenever you came to Darling's was something indescribable. There were countless fond memories attached to this place and it left you all soft and gooey inside to know that Steve planned on making more with you here. Instinctively, you practically dragged Steve behind you as you rushed inside, the homey scent of burgers, fries, and shakes wafting to your nose.

The floors were still the black and white checkered tiles you remembered them to be; stained with drops of grease and sprinkled with deserted fries. Walls were not much neater, though they were messy with posters and vinyl records instead.

"Want the usual?" Your nod was immediate and shortly after, Steve approached the busy woman impatiently pressing buttons on the register. Wisps of hair fell out of her ponytail and clung onto the film of sweat developing across her forehead. She visibly shrunk into herself as she heard the bell above the door ring, signaling new customers. It was a much busier night than usual.

Regardless of the surge of patrons, the booth you and Steve usually sat in once upon a time, wasn't occupied. The wears and tears corroding the red leather almost served as a name tag, assigning the seat for you two. It was impossible to forget the days Steve came here with you after school, carelessly doing homework while listening to whatever song played on the jukebox.

The table was tidy apart from laminated menus and coloring sheets scattered across the surface. You smirked thinking of the times you and Steve swore you could be the next Picassos, the way you took those things so seriously. As if they'd be hung in museums, you did your best to color them, but not without the added challenge of switching papers with Steve every few minutes. A fun little game you played.

Colored pencils sat by the condiments and you made yourself busy adding hue to the Back to the Future poster, sliding Steve a sheet with some random sports car you didn't know the name of, when he made his way over. He traded you with a cup of hot cocoa with jumbo marshmallows that threatened to abandon ship. "Thanks, Stevie."

"Anytime," he smiled, biting at the cherry that was kissed with a touch of the whipped cream that sat atop of his strawberry milkshake. His long legs brushed against yours as he sat next to you, knees finding mutual rest against each other.

A waitress on pink roller skates offered a kind smile as she brought over a basket of fries that Steve and you snacked on while you chatted and giggled, coloring your own and each other's papers as time seemingly flew by.

"How long has it been since we've last been here?"

"I couldn't tell you. Anything before senior year is such a blur," you responded, adding finishing touches to Steve's car before taking the last sip of your now barely hot, hot chocolate. "I'm just sad we stopped coming here."

"Me too," he swung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for an apologetic kiss to your temple. "But I promise to bring you a little more often. It was our spot when we were kids and it'll be our spot now."

You looked at him with bright eyes while hugging his torso, despite the awkward position. Trying to understand what you did to deserve someone like Steve was a dead mission, as you could never fully wrap your head around it. How does one try to understand why they've gotten so lucky?

He kissed away the marshmallow mustache idling on your upper lip before tapping your leg twice, "C'mon, we've got one more stop to make."

The spot he sat in was quickly losing its fever as he stood, holding a hand out for you to take, but you just stared at him with a face that was an odd marriage of scolding and amusement. "Steve," you warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you can yell at me about it later. But I promise you'll love it." Waving his hand to urge yours into his, you accepted it with little hesitation at his grin. You wished the woman at the front a good night as you left the bistro, while Steve dropped a tip in the jar next to her.

He didn't let your hand go until you were sat in the passenger seat, subsequently getting behind the steering wheel, inserting the key in the ignition. You could tell Steve was tired too, the way he full-body stretched as he yawned, rubbing at his eyes that were getting a bit red from fatigue. He wanted to go to bed and cuddle and forget about the world just as much as you did. So why were you still out there?

"What's all this for, Harrington?"

He answered your question with another one of his own, "What's all of what for?"

"Tonight. Everything. The flowers, the diner, and now something else. I'm really grateful for it, don't get me wrong," you warmed his hand when you held it, "but why so much?"

Steve shrugged, averting his gaze to the gear shift sitting between you two. He softly rubbed at your knuckles while he gathered his thoughts.

"Well, you told me that you had a shit day. Just wanted to change that. I like when you're happy."

Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself and your chest stung when tears pricked at your eyes. Steve looked back at you affectionately, the voice of his eyes telling you just how much he cared for you. It made your heart so full. It was too much to handle sometimes.

"I like when you're happy too, Stevie," you beamed, blinking away the pool by your bottom eyelashes. Cupping his cheek, you pushed your plump lips against his that were a little chapped, though you didn't seem to mind at all. Reluctantly, you pull away and Steve doesn't think it was nearly long enough as he sneaks in a few extra pecks.

The drive to wherever on Earth it was that Steve was taking you, was much different compared to the one prior. It almost didn't look like Hawkins. For the past couple miles, Steve's burgundy BMW had been the only car on the road. The trees were taller, a darker green and stronger in numbers than the ones you were used to. The street lamps were less abundant and dimmer than usual, and the animal crossing signs told you that you were more than just a little ways from home.

You had almost said something until Steve pulled off to the side, parking the car on an empty hill just off the road that overlooked Hawkins and the neighboring city. It looked so small from here. Steve smirked at the puzzled expression you threw his way as you removed your seatbelt.

"Before you ask, just come outside. There's something I wanna show you."

You didn't bother waiting for Steve to open the door for you, as you stepped out, attempting to conjure up what he could possibly be wanting to show you out here. There was nothing to be seen but dirt and fallen leaves and branches. "What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Look up," he responded, leaning against the hood of the car.

Your furrowed eyebrows relaxed as a gasp fell from your lips at the sight of the cloudless sky, lighting up with numerous twinkling stars, an image you could only dream of seeing for yourself since you were a little girl. The mighty city that sat so close to Hawkins fostered light pollution that made it nearly impossible to see the stars at night. If you were lucky, you were only able to make out about one or two, though you weren't sure if they had been stars or planets, instead. Either way, it ignited your soul to be able to see such a bright and beautiful piece of the universe, making you feel so small in the best way possible.

That didn't nearly amount to this very moment though, where there were more stars that you could count, sitting so prettily in the midnight sky.

Mouth still agape, you utter, "Steve, it's beautiful," and other than that, you were rendered speechless. You couldn't dare to tear your eyes from it, worried that if you did, it would all disappear, proving to be a mere hallucination from your tiredness. Steve adored the way you stared at the heavens, noticing the way it was the same way you looked at him. All he could see was a clear reflection of the stars in your eyes, and it perfectly spoke to the way he felt about you.

He saw everything when he looked at you. The sun, the moon, the stars, the universe, even the galaxy. His past, his present, his future. All of it. To him, you encompassed everything beautiful and divine. He was convinced you were too good for this planet. Too extraordinary. How did he get so lucky?

"Look," you pointed at two stars that sat close to one another, shining impossibly brighter than the others, "do you think that's us in another universe?"

Steve smiled at your question, cherishing how whimsical you could be sometimes. Your voice was soft and full of wonder and he couldn't be more content in this moment. "Yeah," he nodded at you, "I'm yours in every universe, sunshine." He kissed the back of your hand, holding your intertwined hands against his chest.

"Y'know I was thinking to myself the other day about how weird relationships are," he stated, looking down at his feet. You peeled your eyes away from the sky, gazing at your boyfriend for the first time since you stepped out of the car. "Weird, how?"

"I don't know, like how you randomly meet someone and get to know them really well and one day just decide, 'I like this human. I'm gonna spend all my time with them and take care of them.' Maybe weird isn't the word, but it's definitely interesting," he rambled, talking with his hands, even the one that was still laced through yours.

You nodded along, understanding where he was coming from. It was something you'd thought about yourself. He continued, "Like, I look at us and how far we've come and it scares me a little 'cause I see how my parents are now. They were best friends before they got married and now I can count on only one hand the amount of times I've seen them hug or kiss. Freaks me out."

This was one of the few times Steve spilled what was weighing on his mind. You could always tell when something bothered him and though he'd give you bits and pieces when you asked what was wrong, it was never anything as nuanced as this. It made you proud to see him develop so much.

"We're not them, Steve. It's like you said, I'm yours in every universe. Maybe they aren't each others every universe," you sighed, "We won't end up like them, I promise"

You always knew how to reassure him. It was one of the things Steve loved so much about you; your way with words. Nothing sort of a poet, he thought. He engulfed your face with his palms, kissing you with every ounce of passion he had.

Lowly in the background, you could hear the song Just the Two of Us by Grover Washington, as the mixtape was still playing in his car. "It's our song," you smiled against his lips when you pulled away. You took his hands from your face, grasping them when you asked him, "Dance with me?"

He nodded, holding your body against his as your head fell against his chest, looking down at the sleeping town that felt so far away. You swayed back and forth, finding comfort in the near silence, listening to the rhythmic beating of Steve's heart. "Thank you for this, Steve," you whispered. "I'm lucky to be yours."

"Even if you weren't, I'd still do it for you," he admitted, running hand across your back, tenderly.

The little sentence made you think. Steve has been in your life for well over a decade now and he never failed to be there for you even when you didn't know how to ask for it. He was the one who took care of you whenever you found it a little difficult to take care of yourself. The one who never dared to leave your side.

You and Steve were in love even before you were. You'd been celestial even before this.

"I love you, sunshine," he murmured, head resting on top of yours.

"I love you back, Stevie."

💌 1 new message from jojo: pls pls pls comment/reblog (or both teehee) if you enjoyed, it means a lot! inbox is open!

[1pepsiboy]

Friends to lovers - Matt Sturniolo smut (request)

Matt Sturniolo x reader!

Word count: 1.2k

warnings: kissing, dry humping, matt saying babe

A/N: sorry if this seems a little clunky?? I know it's not my best friends to lovers smut. The beginning isn't strong, just hang in there please!

***

All of you are hanging out in the living room, watching hockey on the TV, since it was shockingly a rainy day in LA. You and Nathan were visiting from Boston. A surprise Laura arranged to celebrate the triplets newest milestone. 

This visit has felt different between you and Matt. Nick and Chris, the friendships were still as they always have been; nothing awkward. But you and Matt have always been the closest and he’s been sort of distant since you got there. 

Chris looks over his shoulder. “Hey (y/n), can you grab me a pepsi?” 

Matt rolls his eyes. “Chris, you have two working feet, go get it yourself.” 

“I know that! I could just sense (y/n) was about to get up and go to the kitchen, right (y/n)?” Chris defends his request. 

You look between the two idiots with a cocked brow. “No, I wasn’t Chris. B-” 

Matt whacks Chris’s arm. “Hah! Go get it, Chri-”

“But I don’t mind getting it,” you finish. 

You got up from where you were resting against the couch, Nick had been painting your nails. After you take a pepsi out of the fridge and give it to Chris, you sit between the two on the couch. Chris wraps his arm around your shoulders and gives you a squeeze. 

“Thanks, you’re the best.” He cheeses a smile. 

You laugh under your breath. “No problem.” 

Suddenly, Matt gets up and stoops off to his room without a single word. All of you look at each other in confusion. 

“Matt!” Chris calls. “Come back out here!”

Nick yells, “Matthew Bernard!” 

“Fuck off!” Matt responds from behind the closed door. 

Instinctively, you stand and wave the others off. “I’ll go check on him.”

You knock on his door, turning the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. “Matt?”

“I said fu-” Matt swivels around in his gaming chair, headset already on as if he’s going to start a game. “Oh, sorry (y/n).”

You close the door and sit on the edge of his bed, hands in your lap. “Matt, what’s wrong? Is it about Chris? He was just joking around, you know that.”

“No- I mean, yeah a little…” He chews on his bottom lip and then brings his thumbnail into the equation. 

“Matt… Please talk to me. It just feels like… like we’ve been off since I got here.”

He furrowed his brows. “Nothing’s been off.”

You cock a brow now. “Let’s see… You’ve barely wanted to be near me, like we haven’t had a single late night one on one talk yet and I miss those… and then just now you acted weird when Chris asked me to do something for him and touched me. He’s always been like that and it never mattered before.”

Now Matt looks down at his hands in his lap, slouching more and more into the chair. “We’re fine, (y/n). I promise."

You bite your lip, then before you could chicken out, you say, “I don’t want to lose our friendship, but I also can’t keep this in anymore… I like you, Matt.”

His head raises, his eyes piercing into you with… surprise? Then a goofy smile spreads on his lips. “I… I like you too, (y/n). That’s why I’ve been acting kinda weird. I wanted to keep my distance until I figured out the right time to tell you.”

“Really fucking weird,” you laugh. “I thought that I, like, did something.”

Matt shakes his head. 

It hits you that he feels the same way and your stomach flutters. “Where- How- What do we do now?” 

“I don’t know.” Matt giggles. “Go on a date?” 

“Do you think this will make the group dynamic awkward?”

“Well… Nick and Chris kinda already know that I like you. I can’t hide anything from them. Nathan has a hunch I think."

You blush furiously. “Think they know I like you?” 

“Probably.” He chuckles.

You flop backwards on his bed, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, that’s so embarrassing.” 

Other hands carefully remove yours and Matt hovers over your body, very close. “It’s not. It’s feelings, you know? Hard to hide them.” 

The heat of his body is super apparent now and your mind fogs, forgetting what you’re discussing. You clear your throat and pull yourself backwards until you’re at his headboard. 

“I think until we figure out what we are, we should probably keep a little more distance between our bodies,” you state. 

“Okay, I understand.”

Matt walks around and lays down on the other end of the bed. “Is this okay?” 

You nod. 

“Should we watch something?” he asks, pointing to the TV. 

You nod again. You let him choose a random movie on Prime. As the movie starts, his hand falls close to yours. Despite your words, you couldn’t stop yourself from linking your fingers together. You let your eyes trail from your hands and up his tattooed arm, and then they land on his jawline. His soft lips were pursed a little bit. 

All critical thinking flees your mind. 

You move closer to him, your leg resting between his.

“I thought-” 

“Sshh. I take it back.” You press your lips against his. They are as soft as they look, and taste so good. The two of you fall in sync so easily. His hands brush through your hair as yours graze his back. Your thigh begins to rub against his covered cock. 

“Babe- I mean, (y/n)... Sorry, fuck.”

Your ears perk up, a sly smile spreads on your lips. “Call me babe again.”

Now a sly grin sets on his face and he rests his hand in the crook of your neck. “Babe.” 

“Mmhm.” You bite your lip and begin to rub against him again. 

“What if someone walks in?” he breathes. 

You shake your head. “That’s their own fault. The doors shut.” You don’t let up and you can feel his dick start to harden. 

He groans under his breath, taking in a breath between his teeth. “You’re right, I’ll shut up.”

Both of you sit up more so it’s easier. You find yourselves kissing again. You ride on his leg, making sure to keep close to his crotch. The panties under your pjs are soaking up by the second. You glance down quickly and notice a darker area on Matt’s sweatpants. 

“Matt… your sweatpants,” you pant. 

He leaves kisses on your neck and then on your covered nipples. “I don’t care, babe.” 

That one word fuels you to go even harder, your hands flatten against his headboard. You ache for him so bad.

“I’m gonna…” you moan. 

“Me too,” he whimpers. 

Matt inches his leg up, hitting the perfect spot. You keel over, your face mixing into his hair as your insides burn and cause your body to tremble. 

Matt digs his hands into your tank and his pants beg to be shut up. You lower yourself to connect your lips again. The sound of soft droplets creates a beautiful ambiance. 

“I’m sorry about your pants,” you mumble. 

“I said I didn’t care,” he rasps under his plump lips. “I have others.” 

A slow smirk spreads on your lips as you gaze into his eyes. “Do you have another pair of panties for me?” 

His face goes pale. “Shit… no, sorry.” 

“That’s fine.” You nip his ear. “I’ll just go commando in a pair of your other sweats.”

*You can request others from this list or send me new ones!*

[elizabethsnuts]

NEED A PART TWO OF THAT ONE WINTERWIDOW KID WITH UNCLE CLINT ONGOMGOMG

I'm thinking playing with Clint's kid, got too excited and accidently hurting/fall/injured

(idk girl ur the writer, u can pick anything)

Bandaids and Boo-Boos

WinterWidow x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You scraped your knee while playing with Clint’s kids but your Mamas there to make it better.

———

Natasha and Bucky were finally back from their mission and were spending time with the Barton family. The serene and secluded farmhouse was a welcome change from the constant chaos of their usual lives as Avengers. You, full of your boundless energy, were running around the spacious yard, giggling and playing a game of tag with Lila, Cooper, and Nathaniel.

The farmhouse buzzed with the laughter of children as you eagerly ran around, giggling as you were being chased. Your tiny hands clutching your stuffed giraffe, making sure you didn’t drop it. The parents watched fondly from the porch, enjoying the tranquillity of the moment.

"Looks like she's having a blast," Bucky remarked, a soft smile gracing his features as he leaned against the railing.

Clint watched as you outran all the kids with your speedy little legs. “She sure is fast. Look at those little legs go!”

Natasha nodded, her eyes filled with maternal pride. "She's a handful, that's for sure."

As the afternoon sun painted the sky with hues of orange and yellow, the children's laughter reached a crescendo, echoing through the fields. But among the joyous commotion, a sudden cry pierced the air, drawing Natasha and Bucky's attention.

You lay on the grass, your tiny form crumpled as tears welled in your eyes. Natasha's heart clenched with worry as she rushed to your side, Bucky following close behind.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Natasha's voice was laced with concern as she gently lifted you into her arms. "It's okay, baby," Natasha said softly, cradling you against her chest. "You're okay."

You sniffled, your bottom lip quivering as you pointed to your scraped knee. "Owie, Mommy."

Natasha's heart sank at the sight of the small scrape marring your tiny knee. She knew it was more the shock of the fall than the injury itself that had upset you. With tender care, she wiped away your tears and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Bucky knelt beside them, gently inspecting your scraped knee. It was a minor injury, but the sight of blood made Natasha's heartache. You whimpered as Bucky examined the scrape, your little hand wiping your nose.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy's here," Natasha murmured soothingly, her voice a comforting melody.

Clint joined the commotion and crouched beside you, his expression filled with concern. "Is she okay?"

Bucky nodded, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "Just a little scrape, she’s a tough little lady."

You sniffled again, your tear-streaked face looking up at Natasha with wide, watery eyes. "Kiss it, Mommy?"

Natasha's heart melted at the request, and she pressed a tender kiss to the top of your scraped knee. "Better?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Better."

Laura came over with a first aid box and a wet cloth. She gently applied the water to the scrape, making sure it was clean and free of dirt and grass. She reached into the first aid box and pulled out a pack of Avengers-themed band-aids, much to your delight.

“Look what I have!” Laura said we a gentle smile. She held up the Avengers bandaids and smiled. “Which one would you like? Captain America or Iron Man?”

You thought for a moment, this was a tough decision for a toddler. “Uhm… Uncle Stevie!” You pointed to the Captain America bandaid with a small smile tugging at your lips.

Laura nodded with a smile and put the Iron Man bandaid back in the box, unwrapping the Captain America one instead. With careful precision, she applied the band-aid over the scrape, the sight of your Uncle Steve bringing a smile to your face.

"There, all better now. You’re such a brave girl." Natasha said, her voice filled with warmth as she wrapped you in a comforting hug. “Says ‘Thanks Aunty Laura!’”

You looked up at Laura, a smile on your face. “Thanks, Aunty Laura.”

You snuggled against Natasha, feeling safe and secure in your mother's embrace. The scrape on your knee already forgotten, you gazed up at Natasha with adoration, your eyes sparkling with love.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the farmhouse, You sat in Bucky's lap on the porch along with the other adults. You watched the other children play while Bucky slowly stroked your hair. Natasha and Bucky smiled at each other, they felt a sense of peace and contentment that they rarely experienced in their lives as Avengers.

They were thankful for Clint and his family. Natasha having been through thick and thin with Clint, was grateful that she could share moments with her own family with his family too.

They sat quietly watching as the sun set and the children kept running around. The soothing strokes of Bucky's hand in your hair and the sound of crickets lulled you into a peaceful sleep, ready for more playing and excitement that would arrive tomorrow.

[sycamorelibrary754]

Come Home To Me

Summary: After returning home to the Avengers Compound from separate solo missions, Wanda learns the meaning behind one of your tattoos is more than what it seems.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!Reader.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: None

A/N: Behold, my first attempt at writing a fic. I'm pleased with the end result, so I'm being brave & posting it. Shoutout to @yelenasdiary for encouraging me to give it a go. 💜

The soft glow of morning light gently filtered through the window of Wanda's bedroom, casting a warm and serene ambiance as we cozied beneath the covers. You mentally thanked Tony for his thoughtfulness in installing blackout curtains. Wanda's crimson magic gracefully wove around the fabric, embracing the room in a comforting cloak of darkness.

You had both returned from solo no-contact missions the night before. Usually, you did your best to keep in touch when both of you were on separate missions, even if it was only an emoji to let the other know that you were there. Without that contact, you both felt like ships lost at sea with nothing to anchor you. 

Wanda was the first to arrive home. After her debriefing with Fury, she was determined to stay awake for your impending arrival. 

As Natasha strolled by Wanda on her way to her room, she shot her a sly grin. "No training tomorrow," she announced, without breaking her stride or waiting for a response.

Wanda spun around, facing the Black Widow as she strode purposefully past her toward the compound kitchen. "Why?

Nat didn't even bother turning around as she called out in response, "You know why."

Upon returning to her room after a long day, Wanda slipped into her soft, lavender-colored pajamas. She picked up the remote and turned on her well-loved episode of the Dick Van Dyke show. It was the one where Laura gets locked in the bank vault, a scene she had watched countless times before, but it never failed to bring her comfort. The familiar jokes and the warmth of the characters made her feel like she was in the company of old friends, a feeling she cherished, especially when she was on her own.

An hour passed before the Quinjet gently descended onto the compound's grounds. With exhaustion weighing heavily on me, I navigated my way to the debriefing, then to the Med Bay, where I received a few minor stitches on my leg, and finally to my room for a quick shower. When I finally reached Wanda's room, the only sound that greeted me as I slowly pushed open the door was the familiar laugh track of her favorite show emanating from the television. The glow from the screencast a soft illumination over Wanda's sleeping form nestled under the covers. I carefully made my way to my side of the bed and quietly curled up next to her. Her eyes slowly opened as she stirred to reveal my exhausted yet affectionate smile.

"Hey there, sweetheart," you greeted warmly.

"Welcome home," Wanda whispered, her voice filled with warmth and relief.

"Right back at you," you murmured, tenderly tracing your hand along her cheek.

After such a long time without her touch, you had almost forgotten the feeling of not sleeping alone. When you finally came together for a gentle kiss, it felt like time stood still. It wasn't out of desperation but a deep contentment as you finally felt complete again.

"Come on, my love, it's time to return to dreamland. It's way past our bedtime," you whispered as you switched off the TV and snuggled under the covers together.

"We have the day off tomorrow," Wanda softly mumbled, her Sokovian accent adding a touch of warmth to her weary voice. As you found solace in her embrace, the day's weariness faded, and you drifted off to sleep, your hands and hearts intertwined.

*^~^*

As you lie in bed, Wanda traces the intricate outlines of the tattoos that adorn your right arm. They deeply fascinate her as they tell a story she's eager to unravel.

"What's the significance of the owl?" she asked, piercing the heavy silence.

"What?" Your gaze shifts to meet her captivating green eyes.

“The owl tattoo on your forearm.” Wanda reiterated.

“In Ancient Greece, the owl was considered the companion of Athena, the goddess of wisdom. It was believed to symbolize protection, and if an owl flew over Greek soldiers before a battle, they took it as a sign of impending victory,” you explained. “Fascinating, right?”

As you glance down at the tattoo on your arm, Wanda nods in understanding while you gently trace your fingers over the intricate ink design.

There's another reason," you whisper so softly that Wanda almost misses it. "When I'm on a mission without you, it reminds me that I'll always find my way back to you. No matter where I am, I'll be victorious and come home to you.

Wanda gently reaches out and takes your face in her hands, her fingers tracing a soothing path across your skin. A warm, comforting sensation follows in the wake of her touch as if her magic is trailing around your head, easing the inner turmoil of your mind. As her eyes meet yours, they exude a gentle reassurance that says, "It's okay, you can trust me." At that moment, she can hear the unspoken questions in your mind, doubting about sharing so much.

“I love you with all my heart,” Wanda declared. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

"I love you too," you respond with a smile.

After a few weeks, Wanda geared up for a crucial mission alongside Nat and Bucky. They aimed to infiltrate a clandestine Hydra facility, conducting experimental activities related to new technology. While Wanda had encountered similar technologies in the past, the prospect of facing it again was unsettling, evoking vivid memories of her time in Hydra facilities with Pietro. As the team pressed on, the only sound that penetrated Wanda's thoughts was Nat's announcement that they were nearing their target and Bucky sharing another anecdote from his 1940s escapades in Brooklyn with Steve.

Missing you, Wanda absentmindedly reaches into the front pocket of her suit and feels the creases of a folded-up note against her fingertips. Removing it slowly, she recognizes your chicken scratch handwriting that you despise but that she finds adorable. 

Come home to me, Wanda. 

Forever my love,

Y/N

As Wanda opened the small black box, she was met with the sight of an exquisitely ornate silver owl ring nestled inside. With a hint of edginess and an air of elegance, she discreetly slid the ring onto her right finger. It glided into place effortlessly, almost as if it had been waiting for her all along. That spot became its permanent home from that moment onward, unwavering through any mission or circumstance. While you had your owl, she had hers.

The rest of the team might see it as just a piece of jewelry, but Nat always catches Wanda stealing glances at the ring during briefings, especially when you're not around. And Yelena still can't figure out why she couldn't borrow it for a date night with Kate. To your enchanting witch, it's not just a ring. It's a constant reminder of your love—a silent vow to find your way back to each other's arms.

[jenniferlawrencelover]

Happy Together (Poolverine)

Ao3 still down so f*ck it. The first book in the Domestic Poolverine Series. Check it out, and if it tickles your pickle just right, maybe you should head over to my Ao3 after this all blows over!

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Logan Howlett/Worst! Wolverine

Rating: Explicit (NSFW) Mdni

Summary: When Logan moved into the crackhouse Wade made a crackhome, Wade never expected he would stay as long as he did. Least of all him.

Word Count: ~28k

When Logan moved into the crackhouse Wade made a crackhome, Wade never expected he would stay as long as he did. Not that Wade is complaining, and boy does he love to complain. It's one of his many kinks actually. Gets him all hot and bothered when Logan's gruff voice rumbles with irritation, when those feral eyes narrow, when those claws unsheathe with a snikt. God, he was getting wet just thinking about it. Remembering their first time in the Honda Odyssey, the way his claws pierced through Deadpool's lung literally took his breath away as he thrust into him again and again until the seat was covered in bodily fluid. Sure, it was blood, but when it was leaking out of a hole did it really matter what exactly it was?

God, he was going to cream himself if he didn't stop. Not that he had any morals that were to stop him, but he was always a fan of a good edging. He needed to save this for the good bit of the story where he's actually getting laid. Right, author?

Where was he?

Oh, yes. 

---------------------------------------------

Wade didn't think Logan would stick around. Sure, they had their moments—epic, cinematic moments, the kind that made Wade want to shout "Oscar-worthy!" at the top of his lungs. But domesticity? That was new territory. He figured Logan would grow tired of his antics, his constant need to poke, prod, and irritate. Maybe he'd leave after the first week, maybe a month. But weeks turned into months, and months turned into something that felt suspiciously like a routine.

It was almost alarming how easily Logan carved out a place in Wade's life. How perfectly he fit his stocky self into the lawn chair at their dinner table during their family dinners with X-Force, Laura, Vanessa, and Craig. 

(Craig. Perfect Craig with his perfect teeth, perfect job, and perfect everything. Wade loathed him with a fiery passion, mostly because Craig didn't have a single flaw Wade could latch onto. Did he mention that Craig was Vanessa's husband-to-be? Rich asshole. Both figuratively and literally. Absolute clean freak, by the way. You could floss your teeth with his pubes--and isn't that a riveting image?)

Logan didn't exactly fit into the picture of domestic bliss Wade had once envisioned (not that Wade spent much time envisioning domestic bliss, because, let's face it, he was more of a 'chaos and explosions' kind of guy). Yet time and time again would find him sitting at the table with a scowl that could curdle milk, grumbling about everything from the overcooked roast to Dopindor's incessant gambling. Yet, he still showed up every time. Wade figured it was because Logan liked the food, but deep down, he suspected Logan actually liked the people too, not that the grumpy Canadian would ever admit it.

He grunted his way through small talk, glared at Wade every time he cracked a joke at Craig's expense (which was often), and even offered to help clean up afterward. Wade almost had a heart attack at the sight of Logan washing dishes, sleeves rolled up, hands moving with the kind of precision that spoke of someone who'd spent years honing his skills. Of course, Logan was annoyingly good at it, just like he was good at everything else. Worst Wolverine ever his ass.

Domesticity with Logan was like living with a bear that occasionally decided to be helpful. There were times when Logan would do something shockingly sweet, like fixing Wade's busted sink without being asked or restocking the fridge with Wade's favorite beer after a particularly brutal mission. But for every nice thing he did, there was an equal and opposite reaction—like when he'd steal the last slice of pizza just to watch Wade's eye twitch or take over the TV remote and force Wade to endure hours of old westerns that made him want to gouge his eyes out.

Logan had even taken to walking Wade's dog, Mary Puppins, despite his incessant reassurance that he would put her out of her misery the first chance he got. Mary Puppins, who was as obnoxious as Wade (because of course she was), had somehow managed to win Logan over. Watching the gruff, battle-worn Wolverine walking a tiny dog in the park was a sight that Wade wished he could capture on film. He wanted to post it on every social media he owned, blow it up on a canvas, and hang it on his wall. Jerk off to it--Who said that?!

Not everything was perfect, though. There were still the fights. The literal ones, where they went at it like rabid animals, breaking furniture and causing the neighbors to complain about the "domestic disturbances" next door. But those were always followed by a quiet truce, maybe some whiskey, and the understanding that whatever this was, it was working. Sort of.

Sometimes, Wade would find Logan sitting in the dark, the only light coming from the flicker of whatever old-timey cowboy show was playing on cable. He never did anything. Just sat there like fucking Buddha all contemplating and broody staring into nothingness like he had something to prove. Wade didn't know for sure, but he was pretty sure that he was plagued by the same nightmares that Wade pretended he didn't have. When the voices didn't stop, and it hurt behind your eyes just a little too much. Wade always found him. Pulled him from wherever his mind took him by shooting off at the mouth about anything and everything that ran through his mind until Logan was telling him to fuck off, Bub. He never felt that familiar piercing of Logan's claws through his thigh though, so Wade must have done a good thing for once. Not that Logan would ever admit it out loud. The man was about as emotionally expressive as a brick wall. 

Nights were...well nights. Nights should be spent fucking or fighting. Not brooding in front of candlelight like Ebenezer Scrooge if Scrooge had trauma the size of fucking moons and an anger management problem. Wade liked Logan better in the light though.

Liked it better when Logan rolled off of Wade's sofa, where he'd shuffle into the kitchen, hair sticking up in all directions and in two kitten ear-shaped tufts, and grunt a barely intelligible "morning" before downing his first cup of coffee. Well, coffee with a shot of whiskey but if Logan would ignore the raging cocaine problem that was happening in the house Wade would ignore the raging alcoholic problem that was going on under his nose. He was prone to wearing shirts to sleep in despite Wade's multiple attempts to shred them in the washer or coat them in itching powder, but he had an abhorrence to wearing sleep pants which meant Wade was treated to a daily view of Logan's perpetually pissed-off morning face along with his ass sculpted by the Gods in those striped boxers. He did always catch Wade looking at his junk though which meant that he was usually slashed to pieces before ten A.M. Nobody likes a good ole perving anymore!

Hey, you win some you lose some he supposes.

It was a delicate balance they had—Wade's mess of a life clashing with Logan's own brand of controlled chaos. The apartment was a disaster, but it was their disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere, bullet casings littered the floor, and there was an ever-present stack of empty pizza boxes that neither of them could be bothered to throw out. Wade's weapons were scattered around like lethal knickknacks, and Logan's flannel shirts seemed to multiply on their own, invading every available surface. And the smell... Christ, the smell. Between Wade's love of greasy takeout and whatever the hell Logan did in his spare time (Wade didn't ask, and Logan didn't tell), the place was a sensory assault on anyone who walked through the door.Cleaning wasn't really on the agenda. Wade had tried once, in a fit of what he could only describe as temporary insanity, to tidy up. Logan had walked in, taken one look at the attempt, and growled something about Wade "ruining the natural order of things" before dropping his muddy boots right in the middle of the freshly vacuumed carpet. Wade had thrown a tantrum, Logan had rolled his eyes, and the place had gone back to its usual state of disarray within hours.

They both had their quirks, their little habits that drove the other crazy. Wade had a tendency to leave his dirty socks everywhere, while Logan seemed to believe that the sink was an appropriate place to leave his half-finished beer bottles. And God forbid Wade tried to move one of Logan's knives—they were everywhere, hidden in every nook and cranny, like some kind of twisted Easter egg hunt. Wade had discovered this the hard way after accidentally slicing his hand off while reaching for a remote. Logan's response had been a casual, "Maybe you shouldn't touch my stuff," which had led to a week-long standoff where Wade hid all the knives in increasingly creative places just to piss Logan off. 

But for all the mess, for all the fucked up shit, it worked. Somehow. Wade wasn't sure how, but it did. Maybe it was because neither of them expected perfection from the other. Wade was a walking disaster, and Logan... well, Logan was Logan. They didn't try to change each other, and didn't push for anything more than what the other was willing to give. It was messy, it was chaotic, but it was real. Something that Wade had never really had before—something that felt suspiciously like home.

------------------------------------

"I swear to God, Wilson, if you don't stop leaving your—whatever the hell this is—everywhere, I'm gonna—"

"Promise? That gets me right in the danger zone, buddy. You threatening me is basically foreplay at this point."

Logan doesn't even dignify that with a response, just storms off to the kitchen, where he proceeds to make a sandwich with the kind of violence usually reserved for bar fights. Wade follows, naturally. Like a mouse after a particularly irate cat. 

"So," Wade starts, hopping up to sit on the counter, legs swinging, "What's the plan for tonight? Movie marathon? Sparring? Ooh, maybe a little mutual grooming? I could use a mani-pedi, and I know those claws could use some love."

Logan's silence is as stony as his jawline, but Wade's nothing if not persistent. And charming. And devilishly handsome. He's the whole package, really.

"You know," Wade continues, leaning back to let his legs dangle in front of Logan's path, "It's been a while since we had a heart-to-heart. Just two bros, sharing feelings, talking about their day. You can go first if you want. Get it all out. I'm here for you, big guy."

Logan's eyes flash up to meet Wade's, a mixture of exasperation and, dare Wade say it, fondness. "You're an idiot," Logan mutters, finally biting into his aggressively assembled sandwich.

"And yet, you still stick around," Wade replies, grinning. "What does that say about you, huh?"

Logan's silence was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic crunching of his sandwich being devoured with a near-violent fervor. Wade could practically see the tension radiating off of him, like a live wire just waiting to snap. The kind of tension that made Wade shiver with excitement, like an electric shock to the system that he just couldn't get enough of.

Wade leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Peanut, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're actually starting to like me."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Don't push your luck, Bub."

"Oh I'm certainly pushing something if you know what I mean?" Wade waggled his eyebrows.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean-?"

"Are you guys going to fuck anytime soon or should I expect maritals first?"

Wade whipped around, eyes meeting the sunglasses of the reason they were still receiving disability. "Easy Toph. The author is trying to use what fanfiction calls slow burn."

"Who the hell is Arthur?" Blind Al calls, nearly stepping on Dogpool where she hovers at her feet. "When the hell did we get a new roommate?"

"Careful Al," Wade warns. "Right now you are a guppy bumping into the glass when you are supposed to be oblivious to the walls."

"Huh?" She calls back, nearly falling over their Roomba.

---------------------

Sweet baby Marvel Jesus.

What had Wade done right in this life to deserve this moment? Were angels singing? Has the sweet embrace of death finally caught up to him? Was that Mariah Carey's angelic voice singing in the background right now? Was this a thirst edit?

As the steam from the hot shower slowly dissipated, Logan emerged, wrapped in nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. And what glorious hips they were. Chiseled. Sharp. Dusted in the same hair that covered the rest of his body. Hubba, Hubba if you know what I mean. His hair was still damp, falling into his face and curling slightly at the ends. Water droplets clung to his skin tastefully, and whoever was in the makeup department deserved a damned raise for the way they accentuated his cheeks flush from the humidity. A water droplet ran down his chest, trailing into his towel into places that much like Orange is the New Black, he can't wait to get into.

Wade's eyes were practically glued to Logan's every move. He tried to blink away the vivid image, but his brain had hitched a ride on the Logan Express and refused to disembark. His mouth was dry, and he felt as if he'd been transported into a scene that was far too cinematic for everyday life.

Logan, oblivious to the turmoil he was causing, was more focused on finding his clothes. But as he glanced up and noticed Wade's incredulous stare, he raised an eyebrow, clearly unnerved. "Fuck is your deal?"

Wade, standing frozen in the doorway with a slack-jawed expression, blinked several times as if trying to wake himself from a fever dream. "Is this real life?" he muttered, though it was more of an exclamation of disbelief than a question. "Because if it is, I'm officially in heaven. And if this is a dream, I'm never waking up. Is this a thirst trap? Are you thirst trapping me?"

Logan, who was in the middle of rummaging for a shirt, glanced up, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. "What the hell is a thirst trap?"

"It's what you are beautiful," Wade's eyes wandered appreciatively over Logan's towel-clad figure. "Baby Girl, you're like a walking wet dream, and I'm your number one fan. I'm talking about a lifetime subscription, unlimited access to all your... assets."

"Wade," Logan warned.

"If there were a heat map, it would be showing red alerts all over the place.  Most importantly, on my chimichanga." He pointed vaguely at his crotch with a playful wink.

Snikt

Wade's eyes went wide, but he didn't back down. Instead, he took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa, whoa, hold up there, furry. I'm just here to admire the view. No need to go all R-rated on me."

"This shit was already R-Rated," Logan growled.

"Well, actually it's rated E for Explicit. They don't have an R-rating on fanfictions," Wade corrected.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing to worry your pretty little head about Peanut," Wade cooed. 

----------------------------------------

"Wade, I mean this in the kindest way possible, but you are absolutely shit at flirting."

"Thank you, Vanessa. How are things with your fiancé?" Wade responds, sipping tea out of the antique china that her rich new boyfriend could afford. 

"Wade," she said softly, slipping a smooth, delicate hand over Wade's saggy ballsack-looking one. 

"I'm totally over you. Totally," Wade continued. "Can't a guy be curious about his ex-girlfriend's life without ulterior motives? Yeesh, talk about paranoid. And self-obsessed, too. I don't know who you even are anymore-"

"He's been there for three months," She interrupted him.

"Has he?" Wade replied, his tone dripping with faux innocence. He swirled the tea in his cup, watching the steam curl up like wisps of a lost dream. "Wouldn't know. Haven't been counting. Not like I keep a calendar or anything. Celebrate special dates," he punctuates with a loud sip.

"It's okay if you get a boyfriend, Wade," she tells him. "You are allowed to like him."

"Psh, like him?" Wade waves at the air. "Lust him? Oh absolutely. Wanna slather syrup up and down his body and lick it off dirtier than a porn star late on rent. You've seen him with his shirt off, right? Rated E for everyone should see them at all times."

Vanessa cocked an eyebrow. 

Wade pointed a finger at her, "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. You're not allowed to go all maternal and shit on me. I have enough mommy issues as it is."

"He's been there. For three months," she reiterates. "I thought you said he was just going to be there until he found someplace else."

"Jesus Ness, just because you hit the jackpot doesn't mean the rest of the world isn't in a national housing crisis," Wade says. "Besides, he's like...absolutely-tutely filled to the brim with undiagnosed trauma-"

"Like you."

"Oh no, baby. I'm diagnosed. Found a therapist and everything," Wade said, pointing two thumbs back at himself. "Sure, I held her at gunpoint and she fired me as a client but we all have our bad days-"

"His crazy matches your crazy."

Wade's words pitter to a stop, and he slams the teacup down. "Copyright."

"Huh?"

"I. Do not. Like Logan," Wade enunciates. "I'm ecstatic you found your happy ever after. Practically leaping for fucking joy. But that's just not in the cards for me, and that's okay. I have Mary Puppins and Blind Al, and I have all of you of course. Logan will leave-"

"So that's what this is about?" She interrupts him. 

Wade took a deep breath, trying to regain his theatrical flair. "Bitch, was I finished with my monologue?" Wade demanded, raising an eyebrow. "I was really spitting fire and you just killed my vibe."

Vanessa, unimpressed, crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. "Are you worried he'll leave you?"

Wade's smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes flickering with something closer to vulnerability than his usual bravado. He leaned back, swirling his tea again, and took a moment before speaking. "Seriously, Vanessa? That's what you think this is about? I'm not worried about Logan leaving me. I mean, I'd be worried if he didn't."

"Wade..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Wade said quickly, waving his hand dismissively. "Don't start with the 'it's okay to feel' speeches. I get it."

Vanessa pursed her lips. "I just want you to be happy, Wade."

Wade swirled his tea, giving her a wide and slightly deranged smile. "I am happy. See? Look how wide my smile is. Could an unhappy person look like this?"

"I just don't want you to put your life on hold for me," she said, gripping both of his hands in hers again. "Or because of me. Or whatever."

"Self-centered much?" Wade scoffed playfully, rubbing a thumb over the top of her hand. "Listen, I don't know what you've been reading.  Maybe an enemies to lovers, I heard those are super popular right now. And Loki and Morbius just had that entire really bad guy and really good guy situationship going on which was already super ballsy for Disney. But Logan and I are roommates. Team members. Hopefully, someday super mega best friends who bang on the sofa and on the kitchen table. He'll leave, eventually. Go do whatever it is that X-Men do. And I'll move on with my life. Continue to do what I do. Fucking, fighting, and getting my money up." 

Vanessa let out a long sigh. "Wade, I'm not trying to meddle in your life. I just want you to be okay. You're important to me, you know that, right?"

Wade shrugged, a mischievous grin creeping back onto his face. "Of course I am. I'm Deadpool. I'm the most important person in the room. Most attractive. Funniest. Honestly, the list goes on and on."

Vanessa sighs again into her teacup,  but she doesn't say anything else. Maybe because she knows it would be pointless to try and knock any sense into him. Maybe because not even a second later Mary Puppins was vomiting all over her expensive rug.

——————-

Wade had grown used to Logan's routine, so when Logan deviated from it, it always caused Wade a bit of concern. Sure, Logan was a 200-year-old mutant with an adamantium skeleton and a healing factor, but even he had his habits. And Wade had come to know them intimately. 

Logan would wake up at 5 AM sharp (unless he had been to the bar, in which he would be up around 10 AM), the sound of his alarm barely audible before his claws would snap out to silence it. He'd grunt his way through a series of stretches that Wade could only describe as "yoga for angry lumberjacks" before heading out for a run with Mary Puppins who he still adamantly proclaimed to detest.

When he came back, he would eat a single sandwich with enough meat to feed a small army and wash it down with Ice Mountain water, the only water that makes you defend the argument that water all tastes the same. It's like if you did an enema after a night of drinking nothing but Pink Whitney's, and you scooped the water out of the toilet and distributed it directly into the bottles. Drinking from the bottle was like giving a rimjob to a freshly bleached asshole. 

Usually, Logan disappeared for hours after his post-run sandwich, doing god knows what. As far as Wade knew, he hadn't gone back to X-Men. Too many memories or nightmares etc, etc. His best guess was the bar down the street or a dark corner he could brood in with a strip of sunlight that hit the side of his face just right. So, it was a surprise when Wade walked in covered in blood from his latest sexcapade (read assassination attempt on a grocery assistant manager--don't ask), and saw Logan sitting at the kitchen table, staring intently at his laptop.

Logan looked up briefly as Wade entered, his expression neutral. "Rough day?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the blood-stained Deadpool costume.

Wade shrugged, dropping a couple of swords and a small arsenal of weapons onto the counter. "You know, the usual. A few baddies, a couple of explosions, and an awkward conversation with a henchman about his life choices. What about you? Planning a vacation or something? Can I come? I love the beach. Make sure it's a nudist beach, god, I hate those pesky tanlines." He glanced at the laptop screen, trying to catch a glimpse of what Logan was up to.

Logan didn't even crack a smile, clicking something else on the screen. "Figured it's about time I got my own space again."

Record scratch. Freeze frame. 

You see, Wade didn't think Logan would stick around. Logan wasn't the type to settle down anywhere for long, least of all in a one-bedroom apartment with a blind, cocaine addict, a fucked-up ballsack-looking motherfucker who kills people for embarrassing low amounts of cash, and a beautiful dog that seems to smell of raw sewage no matter how many baths she is given. It was a miracle they hadn't killed each other yet. Well, they had, but Wade was just too stubborn to stay dead and Logan was staying alive out of spite.

But Logan was...Logan. Logan didn't take his shit, for one thing. Wade and Logan fought a lot, and only one of them was good with words so often it led to fists or well...claws. Their physical brawls were as much a part of their routine as breakfast or banter, a twisted form of therapy for two guys who couldn't process emotions like normal people. Wade would make some offhand comment, usually about Logan's hair or how badly he wanted his ass, and Logan would respond with a growl and a fist to Wade's face.

So when Logan said he was looking for his own place, Wade felt a tiny twinge of something he didn't want to acknowledge. He wasn't the kind of guy who got attached. Attachment led to pain, and Wade had had more than his fair share of that.

Wade flopped onto the couch, his legs hanging over the armrest as he stared at the ceiling. "You really think you're gonna find something better than this? I mean, look at this place!" He gestured around at the cluttered, chaotic apartment that somehow felt more like home than anywhere he'd ever been. Mary Puppins raised her head from her princess doggy bed, tongue lolling out onto the wet spot of drool on the floor. Distantly, Wade could hear Al playing poker on her laptop (don't ask how, just accept it), as well as the distinct sound of screaming and gunshots a few streets down.

"What did it in? Was it the butt plug I left on your pillow? I said I was sorry. They say the wetter the better, but who knew fisting would be so hard? So much prep-"

"Shut up, Bub."

"Is it because I bought you kitty kibble for your birthday?" Wade continued. "Or because I snorted too much booger sugar with Al and forgot your birthday so we celebrated it a week late? Or was it the scratching post I installed on the wall? I'm only trying to look out for you, Peanut. One scratch on the wrong person and we'll have to get you declawed, and we all know I like you better when you're ten fingers deep in me."

Logan grunted, not even looking up from the laptop. "Privacy, for one thing."

Wade sat up, feigning shock. "Privacy? Pssh. Privacy is overrated. Besides, I give you plenty of privacy. Like that time I didn't burst into the bathroom when you were showering. I waited a full five minutes before I made that joke about helping you clean up with my tongue."

Logan finally glanced up, giving Wade a look that could melt adamantium. "Why do you care if I move out? Thought you'd be happy to get rid of me."

Wade opened his mouth to reply with something snarky, but the words caught in his throat. Why did he care? He hadn't thought about it before, hadn't really let himself think about it. But the truth was... he liked having Logan around. Liked knowing that someone was there, someone who wouldn't bail at the first sign of trouble. 

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Wade felt his stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with the leftover chimichangas he'd eaten for breakfast. What to say, what to say. Ah yes, divert the question.

"How are you planning to fund this new place anyhow?" Wade said, narrowing his eyes. "Did you start an OnlyFans? Fuck!" He threw his arms in the air. "I told you if you started an OnlyFans to let me know so I could be your first subscriber. Just imagine it--Fucking my number-one fan. Or wait! We could make snuff together. Plenty of sick perverts would pay top dollar, and we both get to keep our lives in the end."

"Wade-" Logan growled.

"Oh sweetness, I was just kidding but now I'm curious. Are you tickling your pickle online? Diddling your cinnamon donut hole--Ow, fuck!"

Wade's arm fell to the floor with a thud, and he glared up at Logan's slightly smug face. "Motherfucker. I already booked a family photo session for us. Now I'm just going to look ridiculous."

Logan laughed boisterously, eyes crinkling at the corners and shoulders shaking. Wade raised an eyebrow, or, well, what would be considered an eyebrow. "What the hell are you laughing about?"

Logan clutched his stomach, his laughter echoing through the room like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard—and maybe it was. Wade, looking absolutely murderous as he tried to reattach his severed arm, glared at Logan with the intensity of a thousand suns. But Logan just kept laughing, the sound raw and unrestrained, and...Well, actually it was kind of beautiful. He looked younger when he was smiling, less weathered. He had a pretty smile too, all straight, white teeth and dimples that sunk deep into his cheeks. 

"You're serious?" Logan managed to gasp out between bouts of laughter, his voice rough but tinged with genuine amusement. 

Wade rolled his eyes dramatically as he grabbed the detached arm, pressing it against his shoulder in hopes it would fuse back together. The process was annoyingly slow, especially with Logan wheezing like a dying hyena in the background. "Yes, Logan. I want to commemorate our beautiful, picture-perfect relationship for posterity. Something we can look back on with our children and say, 'Kids, look how handsome your daddies used to be before they got all old and tired from raising you little shits. Now run along Wade and Logina Jr. And remember when you are running with knives you need to keep the blade pointed down'--Fuck, you bastard!"

His other arm fell to the floor into the pool of blood that Mary Puppins was beginning to lick. Wade glared up at Logan, who was...startingly close now. Close enough that Wade could feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint scent of whiskey and something earthy that was just so... Logan. Wade's heart did that annoying little flutter thing, like a bunch of butterflies were having intercourse in his heart valve. "Well, now you're going to have to be the one to hold Mary Puppins up in the photo," Wade said, sniffing. "And we both know you are never getting that smell out of your clothes."

"I'll live," Logan says, smirking as he walks off. 

---------------------------------

"You're moping."

Wade barely cracked an eye open at the sound of Logan's gravelly voice. "Am not," he muttered, shifting on the couch so that his back was to Logan. He subtly sniffed the rumpled pillow, the scent of blood, oil, and aftershave tickling his nostrils. If he had nose hairs, he figured they would be tickling, too, but unfortunately, the only hair he still had was the bits from his toupee. Logan kept throwing them away, but Wade was not afraid of a little bit of dumpster diving.

Logan snorted, and Wade could hear him rolling his eyes. "Could've fooled me. You've been lying there like a sack of shit for hours."

Wade groaned dramatically, rolling onto his back and stretching his arms over his head. "Maybe I'm just enjoying some well-deserved R&R. Did you need me for something? Daddy to take you for a walk in the park? Lapdance? Personal scratching post?"

Logan didn't rise to the bait, which only made Wade more irritated. He wasn't used to people seeing through his bullshit, and Logan was getting far too good at it. "You gonna tell me what's really eating you, or do I have to carve it out?"

Wade's eyes flicked open at that, meeting Logan's steady gaze across the room. "Do you actually care, or do you just want your couch back?"

Logan didn't answer right away, and for a moment, Wade thought maybe he'd finally managed to throw him off. But then Logan's gaze narrowed, his expression hardening just a fraction. "I'm not a total asshole, Bub," he said, his voice low and gruff.

Wade felt a twinge of something he couldn't quite name—annoyance, maybe, or something more uncomfortable like guilt. He sat up, swinging his legs off the couch and facing Logan fully. "Sure you aren't Peanut."

Logan's eyes didn't waver, didn't blink. He just watched Wade with that infuriating calmness, the kind that made Wade feel like he was the only one spiraling out of control. Wade wanted to argue, to crack a joke, to say something—anything—that would deflect from the way Logan's stare made him feel like he was under a microscope. But the words died in his throat, and all that came out was a quiet sigh. 

"So," Logan said, taking a sip of his coffee. He hadn't moved from his spot at the table, his laptop screen casting a dull glow over his face. "Spit it out."

Wade ran a hand over his face, feeling the rough texture of his scarred skin, the uneven ridges. "This whole... whatever this is. You and me, the apartment, the routine. It's been... nice," he said, the words sounding lame even to his own ears. 

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for Wade to get to the point. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No, it's not—well, maybe it is? I don't know!" Wade threw his hands up in frustration, his voice rising. "It's just... I'm not used to this, okay? I'm not used to things being... normal."

"We can't die. My bones are made of metal and I have claws that come out of my hands. Our roommate is addicted to cocaine and you inherited your dog because you killed your alternate self. Just yesterday you shot me in the arm because I switched the channel. I wouldn't exactly call that normal, would you?" Logan said gruffly, crossing his arms. 

Wade's lips twitched at Logan's words, a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "Hey, I regret that that beautiful son of a bitch had to die, but it was necessary for the sake of the world," he said, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. 

Logan snorted in response. 

Wade watched the fan spin a few times before continuing. "But it's normal for us. You know what I mean."

Logan grunted, clearly not satisfied with that answer. "So what's the problem, Bub? You finally got something stable for once in your life, and it's making you twitchy?"

Wade didn't answer, choosing to pluck at the fraying edges of the couch where Logan's claws had snagged the fabric countless times. The same wear and tear followed Wade through the apartment--the curtains, the bath towels, the walls, even a few of the worn areas of Wade's suit. What would happen when Logan left? Would he eventually have to replace them, and watch as the remnants of the last four months faded into the back of his mind until he began to question if it ever happened to begin with? The more Wade thought about it, the more his chest tightened, the anxiety clawing its way up his throat.

Wade didn't like being alone. It was kind of his whole thing. Didn't matter who he was surrounding himself with; if they loved him or despised him, it didn't matter as long as they were they were there. Silence, true silence, was the one thing that could drive him insane. It's probably the thing that will kill him one day. Wade thrived on noise, on the presence of others—even if they hated his guts. He was the guy who'd talk just to fill the void, crack a joke even when no one was listening, because anything was better than being left alone with his own thoughts.

"Wade," Logan's voice cut through the silence, rough but with an edge of concern. "You're not answering the question."

Wade's hand stilled, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch a little too tightly. He didn't look up. "What's the point? You'll just leave eventually. It's what you do. It's what everybody does." He laughs a little too hard to be casual. 

Ha casual. Knee-deep in the passenger seat of that fucking Honda Odyssey, how fitting.

Logan's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Wade sat up, throwing his arms in the air. "Nothing. Nothing! Oh my God." 

He stood up, planning on dramatically storming into his bedroom when he felt a hard grip on his bicep. Wade felt the pressure of Logan's hand like a vise around his arm, the grip strong enough to stop him in his tracks but not enough to hurt. It was a warning. "Let go," Wade snapped, trying to yank his arm free, but Logan held firm. The tension in the room crackled like electricity, and Wade could feel his pulse pounding in his ears.

"Not until you tell me what the hell's going on," Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous, the kind of tone that usually made people back off. But Wade was too wound up to back off, too full of all the things he didn't want to say. "You PMSing or something?"

Wade's eyes flashed with anger, the words striking a nerve he didn't even realize was exposed. He didn't know why it had upset him, or why that was his snapping point. Lord knows he has said ten times worse before. But for some reason, it's enough for him to turn around and punch Logan square in his beautiful face.

Logan's claws shot out, and Wade barely had time to react before he was throwing himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the swipe. He hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the breath out of him, but he was on his feet in an instant, his own weapons drawn. He didn't have time to think, didn't have time to process what was happening—his body moved on autopilot, driven by adrenaline and the raw, unfiltered emotions that had been building up for weeks.

Logan came at him again, his movements quick and precise, but Wade was faster, ducking under Logan's arm and slashing at his side with the katana he had put under the counter. The blades sliced through fabric and skin, but Logan barely flinched, his healing factor already kicking in as he turned to face Wade again.

"You really want to do this, Bub? We all remember how it turned out last time" Logan snarled, his voice full of fury as he lunged forward.

Wade didn't hesitate, meeting Logan head-on with a vicious swing of his own. "Oh, baby, don't threaten me with a good time."

Logan growled, tackling Wade into the fridge. The fridge door dented under the force of their impact, the contents rattling inside as Wade let out a breathless laugh. "Oof, baby, didn't know you were into rough play," he quipped, even as he shoved Logan back with all his strength. Logan's eyes flashed with irritation, and he swung a fist at Wade's jaw, but Wade ducked, the punch glancing off his shoulder instead.

"Shut up, Wade," Logan snarled, his claws retracting just long enough to grab Wade by the collar and yank him close. "You want to fight? Fine. But don't think for a second I'm gonna go easy on you."

Wade grinned, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. I wouldn't have it any other way." With that, he twisted out of Logan's grip and delivered a sharp knee to Logan's ribs. The blow didn't do much damage, but it was enough to get Logan to loosen his hold.

Logan grunted, barely reacting to the hit, and immediately countered with an elbow to Wade's side, aiming for his liver. Wade felt the pain radiate through his body, but he didn't let it slow him down. Instead, he took advantage of the close quarters, wrapping his legs around Logan's waist and using the momentum to flip them both over, sending Logan crashing onto the kitchen floor.They landed in a tangled heap, Logan's claws extending once more as he slashed at Wade's side, cutting through his suit and skin. Wade hissed at the pain but he was already healing, the torn flesh knitting itself back together as he straddled Logan, pressing a forearm to the older man's throat.

"This is the best foreplay I've had in months!" Wade gasped, his voice a mix of exhilaration and mock desperation. Logan's eyes narrowed, and he brought his claws up again, aiming for Wade's neck.

Wade blocked the strike with one of his katanas, the metal clanging against Logan's claws. Sparks flew as they grappled, their faces inches apart. Wade could feel Logan's breath hot against his face, could see the raw anger burning in his eyes. But beneath that anger, there was something else—something more complicated that Wade couldn't quite name.

"You talk too much," Logan growled, shoving Wade off him with a powerful kick that sent him crashing into the kitchen table. The table shattered under Wade's weight, splintering into pieces as Wade rolled to his feet, a manic grin on his face.

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta keep this sexual tension going!" Wade shot back, grabbing a chair leg and hurling it at Logan like a spear. Logan swatted it aside with ease, advancing on Wade with a deadly purpose in his eyes.

Wade met him head-on, their bodies colliding in a flurry of punches, kicks, and slashes. The kitchen quickly became a war zone, the walls and floor splattered with blood as they tore into each other with a vicious intensity. Wade's katanas clashed against Logan's claws, the sound of metal on metal filling the room as they fought like animals, neither willing to back down.

"Come on, Peanut!" Wade taunted, even as he ducked under a brutal swipe aimed at his head. "Is that all you've got? I've had worse from one of my foster homes!"

Logan didn't respond with words—he responded with a brutal stabbing into his head that left Wade seeing stars. Wade staggered back, blinking rapidly to clear his vision, but his body was too slow in piecing the bits of his brain back together. Logan tackled him again, this time driving them both into the living room, where they crashed through the coffee table in a shower of splinters.

Wade's back hit the floor with a painful thud, but he didn't have time to recover before Logan was on top of him, his claws poised to strike. Wade grabbed Logan's wrist just in time, holding the claws inches away from his throat. They struggled there, their bodies pressed together, each trying to gain the upper hand.

"Not... bad... for an old man..." Wade grunted, using every ounce of strength he had to keep Logan's claws at bay. He could feel Logan's breath on his face, could see the way Logan's chest heaved with exertion. 

"You really want to keep pushing me, Wade?" Logan's voice was a dangerous rumble, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else—something that sent a shiver down Wade's spine. "I've been good lately. Haven't touched a single hair on anybody's body which means I have a lot of pent-up rage to get out on you."

"Oh, I'm counting on it," Wade gasped, his grip slipping just a fraction. Logan took advantage of the momentary weakness, and before Wade could react, Logan's claws grazed his neck, drawing a thin line of blood.

Wade's breath hitched, the pain sharp and immediate, but he couldn't stop the surge of excitement that came with it. "Ooh, right there, big guy. That's the spot!"

Logan's lip curled in a snarl, but instead of delivering the killing blow, he hesitated, his claws retracting slightly. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Wade to take control. With a burst of strength, he shoved Logan off him, rolling them over until Wade was the one on top.

"See? I knew you liked it rough," Wade panted, grinning down at Logan as he pinned his wrists to the floor. "You can't fool me, Wolvie. Deep down, you're just as fucked up as I am."

Logan glared up at him, but the fire in his eyes was tempered by something else—something that Wade hadn't seen before. "You don't know shit about me, Wade," Logan said, his voice low and dangerous.

Wade bent down to say something twice as vulgar but was stopped when he felt the press of something hard against his thigh. Wade's grin faltered. Logan didn't respond, but the tension between them shifted, the violent energy ebbing away as they stared at each other, breathing heavily. Wade's heart pounded in his chest, the reality of the fight—of everything—crashing down on him all at once.

Finally, Wade let out a shaky laugh, releasing Logan's wrists and rolling off him. He collapsed onto the floor beside Logan, staring up at the ceiling as his body began to heal, the pain receding into a dull throb.

Logan stayed where he was, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. Neither of them said anything, and for a split second, they just lay there, breathing heavily, blood dripping from various wounds that were already beginning to heal.

------------------------------------------

"Everybody gets boners. I would know. I get them all the time. Hell,  I have one right now. But what does that mean, right? Because the last time this happened, it was in that godforsaken Honda Odyssey, and those seats went allll the way back if you know what I mean."

If Wade had a nickel for every time he and Logan got into a fight that was a heavy prelude for sex he would have two nickels, but it's weird that it happened twice, right? 

"Logan's got that 'I'm gonna kick your ass and then do unspeakable things to you' vibe. Totally sexy. Hot. I'm into it, right? It's like our fights are just foreplay with a few punches and kicks thrown in for good measure. But here's the thing. Sometimes I get super nauseous after the fight, and it's not because Freddy Kreuger was in my guts in all the wrong ways. Like I'm actually upset that he's moving out which is ha, crazy because really I should be happy to be getting my couch back. I did all my best masturbating there."

Wade falls back into the seat, twirling baby knife around on his fingers. "What do you think? Is he queerbaiting me? It would make sense. Disney is a huge fan of dangling diversity in our faces and ripping it away."

Dopindor turned around in his seat, beaming widely at Wade. "Mr.Deadpool sir, I just want to start by saying that I am honored that I am the one you have chosen to confide in. It means a lot to me, truly, to be entrusted with something so deeply personal. But, um..." Dopinder hesitated, his smile faltering slightly as he searched for the right words. "Has Mr. Logan ever, uh, flirted with you outside of those... you know, those, uh, two boner situations?"

Wade blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Outside of the boner situations? Uh, let me think..." He scrunched up his face, genuinely trying to recall any instance that might qualify. "Well, there was that one time he called me an 'annoying little dickwad whose only purpose of living was to annoy the fuck out of him.' And then that other time he told me to 'get the hell out of his way before he  gives me a new hole to shit out of.'  I thought it was kinda sexy, but I don't think he meant it that way."

Dopinder's smile became more strained, and he nodded slowly. "Right, so... I don't mean to burst your bubble, DP, but, uh, that doesn't really sound like flirting. It actually sounds more like... he might just, um, tolerate you. Maybe he likes the fights, but, uh, not in the way you're hoping."

Wade's expression dropped, the twirling baby knife slowing to a stop. "So, you're saying Logan's not playing hard to get? He's just... hard and not interested?" He let out an exaggerated sigh, throwing his head back dramatically. "And here I was, thinking we were in the middle of some slowburn romance novel. 'Deadpool and Wolverine: Getting My Claws Into You.'"

Dopinder's eyes widened slightly, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he tried to find the right response. "Well, sir, you're definitely not delusional—"

"Stop it, Dopinder," Wade interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "I know delusion when I see it. It's just, I thought maybe, just maybe, Logan was giving me the ol' 'I hate you so much that I actually want to do naughty things to you' routine. But if he's not... then what am I supposed to do with all this pent-up sexual frustration? I mean, I could always just take it out on you, but that seems unfair. You're not exactly my type."

Dopinder cleared his throat, clearly flustered. "Oh, no, no, I'm more than happy being your loyal driver and friend! And, um, I think maybe you're focusing too much on Logan's, uh, vibes. Maybe he's just... I don't know, a grumpy and violent man who enjoys fighting you because it's fun for him. Not because he wants to, um, do anything else."

Wade tilted his head, considering Dopinder's words. "Huh. So, you're saying I might just be projecting all this unresolved sexual tension onto Logan because I can't handle the fact that maybe, just maybe, he's just not that into me?"

Dopinder nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Exactly! Maybe you're reading too much into it. Sometimes a fight is just a fight, and not everything has to lead to, um, the other thing."

Wade slumped back in his seat, pouting. "That's no fun. I like it better when everything leads to the other thing." He sighed, glancing out the window. "Guess I'll have to find some other poor soul to beat me up and then make out with me. Maybe Spider-Man? He's got that whole 'awkward nerd' thing going on. Could be hot."

Dopinder, sensing the shift in mood, gave a nervous chuckle. He hesitated before finally speaking up. "Um, DP... not that this conversation hasn't been fun, and I always appreciate our talks, but, uh, don't you have a... mission to be doing?"

Wade blinked, momentarily thrown off by the reminder. "Oh, right! The mission. My money!" He sat up straight, suddenly energized as if the earlier melancholy had never existed. "How could I forget? Priorities, Deadpool, priorities!"

He reached for the door handle, but paused, turning back to lean into the car. "Raincheck on the payment? You understand, right? What with what I'm going through and all." Wade's expression was an exaggerated mix of puppy-dog eyes and over-the-top sorrow.

Dopinder sighed, clearly torn between wanting to support his idol and knowing he was likely never going to see that money. But how could he say no to Deadpool? With a resigned smile, he held up his hand for a high five. "Fine."

Wade slapped his hand with a grin, hopping out of the car. "You're the best, Dopinder! I don't care what anyone says!"

"What-"

Wade gave him a mock salute, then turned on his heel, striding away with all the confidence of a man who was about to fuck up some serious shit.

---------------------

"So..."

Logan rifled through the cabinets, making a noise of what could only be excitement when he found the rubbing alcohol Wade had kept hidden in the back. He snagged it from the shelf, licking his lips as he popped the lid and began to chug it to Wade's disdain. Finally, Logan lowered the bottle, his lips glistening with the remnants of the alcohol. He let out a contented sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he turned to face Wade, who was now staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

"You know, that stuff's not gonna give you a buzz, right?" Wade said, still trying to process what he'd just witnessed. "I mean, I'm all for weird shit, but this is next-level."

Logan smirked, his expression completely unfazed. "Not about the buzz, Bub. It's about the burn." His voice was gravelly, the kind of tone that sent shivers down Wade's spine. Logan tossed the empty bottle onto the counter, leaning back against it with a satisfied grunt.

"So..." Wade began again, cocking his head to the side and kicking his feet back and forth where they dangled from the barstool. "Are we going to talk about that little situation that happened last week? Well, definitely not little. Like, holy fuck, did you stuff a coke bottle in your pants or what?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. "There wasn't a situation," His voice was low, almost a warning, but Wade was never one to back down.

"You know, you can admit it. We're all friends here." Wade's tone was teasing, but there was a genuine undercurrent of curiosity. "I'm not saying you have to confess your undying love or anything. But if you're gonna keep popping boners every time we throw down, we might need to have a little chat about boundaries. Or not—honestly, I'm kind of into it."

Logan's eyes darkened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might lunge at Wade, pin him to the wall, and shut him up the only way he knew how—through sheer physical force. But instead, he took a step back, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Wade hopped off the barstool, landing lightly on his feet as he approached Logan, his expression softening slightly. "Look, Peanut, I'm not trying to make this weird. Okay, that's a lie, I'm always trying to make things weird. But I was talking to Dopindor-"

"You were talking to Dopindor," Logan interjects sarcastically. 

"-and he said that maybe you just like to fight with me because it's fun," Wade continued, ignoring Logan's sarcastic tone. "And I get it, I mean, who wouldn't enjoy a good ol' tussle with yours truly? But here's the thing—I think there's more to it. You don't just get all... excited like that because of a fight. Unless you're into some really weird stuff, which, hey, no judgment, but this feels different."

"So you're basing all of this on a conversation with fucking Dopinder?" He let out a low, humorless chuckle. "You really are out of your mind, Bub."

Wade shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe. But you didn't deny it Buttercup."

Logan clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated. "Deny what? That I like fighting? That I get a rush from it? Hell, everyone knows that. It's what I do."

Wade took another step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Yeah, but not everyone gets a hard-on from it, Princess Sparkle Tits. Not like that. And definitely not with me. So, what gives? You're telling me there's nothing going on here?"

Logan's gaze snapped back to Wade's. "I fight you because you can take it. Because I know you'll get back up, no matter how hard I hit you, no matter what vital organ I stab. It's adrenaline."

Wade studied Logan's face, searching for any hint of doubt, any sign that he was lying to himself as much as he was to Wade. But Logan's expression was guarded, his walls firmly in place.

"Adrenaline," Wade repeated, his tone more subdued. "You think it's adrenaline?"

Logan's gaze bore into Wade, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. "What do you want me to say, Bub? That you're right? That I got a fuckin' boner because I'm into you? You think that's what this is?"

"Marvel H. Christ, I'm not saying you're like in L-O-V-E with me or anything!" Wade threw his arms up into the air. "All I'm asking is it such a bad thing to admit you might want to bone me?"He paced around the small space, hands gesticulating wildly as he continued, "I mean, let's be real here. With my suit on, I'm at least a solid seven, maybe an eight on a good day. And don't even get me started on my hairless wonderland. I've got a smooth, sleek body like a wet seal. Pour some oil on me and baby let it rip. And my ass? It's like a ripe, juicy peach. Perfect to take a bite out of, or open it up and lick around until you find the pit-"

Before Wade could finish, Logan closed the distance between them in a flash, grabbing Wade by the collar and yanking him forward. Their faces were inches apart, Logan's breath hot against Wade's skin. "You talk too much," Logan growled.

Wade's heart raced, but he kept his trademark grin firmly in place. "And you, my little alcoholic, are in denial. We can keep our socks on. We can do it in the dark if you want, and you can pretend I'm your sweet little Jean-"

And those are Logan's claws in his neck. 

Blood gushes around his fingers as he slides them out of Wade's arteries. He wipes the blood off on Wade's t-shirt, and then storms out of the apartment. 

----------------------------------------

The next two months were a special kind of hell, the kind that could only be crafted by a fanfiction writer who is really trying to emphasize the enemies in enemies to lovers.

Logan didn't say a word about what had happened. Hell, they barely spoke at all. The atmosphere in the apartment was so thick with tension, you could cut it with Logan's claws.

Logan spent most of his time out, supposedly looking for a place of his own, but Wade knew better. The old man was avoiding him, plain and simple. When they did cross paths, it was always awkward. Logan would grunt something that might've been a greeting, and Wade would reply with some smartass comment. Neither of them mentioned the incident. Neither of them apologized.

Wade couldn't stop thinking about it, though. The look in Logan's eyes, the anger, the... arousal? Wade wasn't sure. Maybe it was just his overactive imagination, but for once, he couldn't joke it away. Instead, he threw himself into his work. Lucky for him, being Deadpool meant there was always a new job, a new target, a new distraction from the weirdmageddon at home.

The mercenary life was business as usual. A quick trip to the slums to intimidate a creepy ex-boyfriend, a few days in Manhattan dealing with some petty thugs who thought they could take on the big leagues, and an all-expenses-paid vacation to Madripoor (Thanks X-Men) to eliminate some supervillain trying to make it in Marvel's new movies. The usual blood, guts, and banter, with Wade doing his best to forget that his living situation was a ticking time bomb.

And then there was Vanessa. Sweet, beautiful Vanessa, who was supposed to be his one shot at a normal life—whatever the hell that meant. Except now, she was moving on, like he had always feared she would. He'd been invited to her wedding, which was just the universe's way of twisting the knife. She'd even sent him a formal invitation, like he was some ex she barely knew, instead of the man who'd once died for her. 

Wade didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, he was happy for her. She deserved happiness, and if her new guy could give her that, then who was Wade to stand in the way? On the other hand... well, it sucked. It sucked in ways that Wade couldn't even put into words, not that he'd try. His usual coping mechanisms—jokes, violence, chimichangas, sex (which was most certainly not happening)—weren't cutting it.

Days turned into weeks, and Wade found himself in a routine that felt more like a prison sentence. He'd wake up, avoid Logan, go out on a job, come back, and avoid Logan some more. The few times he did catch Logan at home, the guy was either nursing a bottle of whiskey or pretending to be asleep. They were two grown men, each too proud (or too stupid) to talk about what had happened.

But he let the tension simmer, hoping that one day, it might just boil over. Because then they could have it out, scream at each other, bleed each other dry, and finally get whatever this was out in the open. Or maybe it would end in more blood, and Wade wasn't sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing anymore

---------------------------

Wade was staring at the RSVP card in his hand, the one that Vanessa had sent along with the wedding invitation. It had been sitting on the kitchen counter for over a week, taunting him every time he walked by. There were two simple boxes to check: "Attending" or "Regrets." But it was the line beneath that made him hesitate: Will you be bringing a plus one?

Wade glanced over at Logan, who was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV but clearly not watching it. The guy was as broody as ever, the silence between them now an old companion. Wade wondered, for a brief, insane moment, what would happen if he asked Logan to go with him. As his plus one.

Then again, there was the little issue of Logan nearly slicing his throat open the last time things got heated. Probably not the best foundation for a wedding date. He'd be lucky if Logan didn't skewer him just for bringing it up.

With a heavy sigh, Wade picked up a pen and stared at the RSVP card. His hand hovered over the boxes, indecision freezing him in place. "Attending" or "Regrets"? Did it even matter? It wasn't like Vanessa was expecting much from him at this point. Hell, she probably sent the invitation out of some misguided sense of obligation, a way to tie up loose ends before she started her new life.

Will you be bringing a plus one?

He scribbled a messy "X" in the "Attending" box, then hesitated again. His gaze flicked to the "plus one" line. 

What if he wrote Logan's name? Just to see the look on Logan's face when he found out? Wade grinned at the thought, but it quickly faded. Logan wouldn't find it funny. He'd probably pack his bags and finally leave, and Wade wasn't ready for that.

So instead, Wade left the line blank, tossed the card aside to ponder over later, and leaned back in his chair. The apartment was too quiet, the kind of quiet that made your thoughts echo in your head. He hated it.

Couldn't stand it. The silence, the unspoken words, the constant avoidance. It was driving him insane. And since being quiet wasn't exactly his style, he decided to bite the bullet and just... talk. 

He walked over to where Logan was sitting, plopping down on the arm of the couch, too close for comfort. Logan's eyes flicked up at him, a warning in their depths, but Wade ignored it. 

"So," Wade began, his voice casual like they hadn't been playing this awkward game of silent chicken for weeks. "I got this wedding invite."

Logan grunted, clearly uninterested, but Wade pressed on. "Vanessa's. Which you knew. She's getting hitched, for real this time, and she actually had the audacity to invite little ol' me." He laughed, the sound more bitter than amused. 

Logan didn't respond, his attention still on the TV, but Wade wasn't about to let that stop him. "She even asked if I'd bring a plus one. Can you believe that? Like I have a date lined up or something."

There was a flicker of something in Logan's expression, but it was gone too quickly for Wade to read. He hesitated, then decided to just go for it. "Anyway, I was thinking... since you're still crashing here, and we've got all this unresolved sexual tension—"

Logan's eyes narrowed, but Wade pushed through. "—how 'bout it? Wanna be my plus one? You know, make it real awkward for everyone? We can skip the ceremony, show up drunk to the reception, and fuck on one of the elderly guests tables. It'll be fun."

Logan finally turned his head to look at Wade, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Wade wondered if he'd gone too far, if Logan was about to grab him by the collar again or, worse, shut down completely. But instead, Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied Wade with that intense gaze that always made him feel like Logan was looking right through him.

"I was already invited, dipshit," Logan said, his voice gruff but steady.

Wade blinked, taken aback. "Wait, what?"

Logan stood up, brushing past Wade as he headed for the door. "Got my invite a while ago," he said over his shoulder. "Didn't think it was worth mentioning."

Wade watched him, stunned into silence for once in his life. Of all the things he'd expected Logan to say, that wasn't one of them. 

"Wait," Wade called out as Logan reached for the door handle. "You serious?"

Logan paused, glancing back at him. "Guess you'll have to find someone else to be your plus one, Bubba."

Before Wade could respond, Logan opened the door and stepped out, leaving Wade alone with his thoughts—and the quiet, empty apartment. The door clicked shut behind him, and Wade sat there, processing what had just happened. "Well, shit," he muttered to himself.

-------------------------------------------------

The day of Vanessa's wedding arrived faster than Wade would have liked. 

Logan had been unusually quiet all morning, which only made things more unbearable. He'd barely said two words to Wade since they woke up, and now they were getting ready in the cramped bathroom of Wade's apartment, the silence between them heavy and oppressive. Wade stood in front of the mirror, fussing with his tie. He'd opted for a classic black suit, something simple and understated, though he couldn't resist adding a red pocket square for a touch of flair. As he fumbled with the knot, he caught Logan's reflection in the mirror. The older man was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, already dressed in his own suit—a dark, tailored number that fit him perfectly, accentuating his rugged, muscular frame. He had rejected Wade's suggestion to add a yellow pocket square, stating that that was too on the nose which, yes, fair. 

Wade couldn't help but stare. He'd seen Logan in all sorts of states—bloodied, bruised, half-naked, fully naked, pissed off, and occasionally looking downright feral. But this? This was something different. The man cleaned up way too well, and Wade was having a hard time processing the sight before him.

Logan looked... sharp. That was the word for it. The dark suit was tailored to perfection, hugging his broad shoulders and tapering down to his narrow waist in a way that made Wade wonder if the tailor was still alive or if Logan had murdered them for getting a little too handsy. The fabric draped over his muscular frame like it had been designed with only him in mind, and the crisp white shirt beneath it was unbuttoned just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of the chest hair that Wade had become intimately familiar with. 

His hair, usually a wild mess, was slicked back with that pomade Wade couldn't stop sniffing, giving him an almost dangerous edge. It made Logan's chiseled features stand out even more—the sharp line of his jaw, the steely glint in his eyes, and that mouth... Fuck, that mouth. Wade's eyes drifted there, lingering on the way Logan's lips were set in that usual scowl, lips that Wade had become increasingly fixated on. It was a scowl that promised violence but also hinted at something else, something darker, more primal. 

Wade's thoughts began to spiral, his mind going to places that were anything but appropriate for the occasion. As much as he tried to focus on the task at hand—tying his goddamn tie—his brain kept serving up images of Logan pressed up against him, all that pent-up energy unleashed in the form of rough hands, sharp teeth, and the kind of passion that left bruises in its wake. He could almost feel the weight of Logan's body pinning him against a wall, could almost hear the low growl that would rumble from Logan's chest as he claimed Wade's mouth in a bruising kiss. Wade's mind raced with scenarios, each one more explicit than the last, each one involving Logan losing that damn suit in increasingly creative ways.

Logan shifted slightly on the edge of the bathtub, and Wade's eyes followed the movement like a predator tracking its prey. The way the fabric of Logan's pants stretched across his thighs, the way his muscles flexed beneath the suit, the way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against his leg—it was all too much. Wade swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling low in his belly, trying to focus on anything but the way Logan's presence filled the room, overwhelming his senses.

"Fuck are you looking at, Bub?" Logan's voice cut through the silence, rough and laced with just the faintest hint of amusement.

Wade jolted, realizing he'd been caught staring.  He yanked on his tie a little too hard, nearly choking himself in the process. 

Logan's lips twitched, just barely. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was close enough to make Wade's heart do that annoying flutter thing again. 

Wade forced himself to focus on the mirror again, tearing his gaze away from Logan before he did something stupid—like launching himself across the room and kissing the life out of the guy. "Can't help it if you're a fucking distraction," Wade muttered, more to himself than to Logan, managing to get the tie somewhat presentable, though he was pretty sure Logan could tie a better knot with his eyes closed. He adjusted the red pocket square, trying to give himself something to do with his hands that didn't involve reaching for Logan.

"You know," he said, "I have to admit, you look pretty damn good in a suit. I mean, it's no Wolverine's suit, and it's not like I didn't know you were built like a tank, but damn... who knew you cleaned up so well?"

Logan glanced up from where he was sitting, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met Wade's gaze in the mirror. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it, Bub."

"Too late," Wade leered. "Why don't you stand up and do a twirl for me, Princess?"

Snikt

"Woah, hey! No! No," Wade turned around, holding his hands out in front of him. Logan's claws glinted under the fluorescent lights menacingly as he glared up at him. "Usually I'm up for a little bit of foreplay, but we're under strict instructions that the claws need to stay away today. If she sees even a speck of blood on either of us, she is going to lose her shit."

Logan's claws retracted with a swift snikt, and he leveled a disapproving look at Wade, who was still standing with his hands up in a defensive posture. "Then, maybe you shouldn't say things that make me want to stab you."

"I flirt when I'm nervous," Wade quipped, crossing his arms. "It's not every day the love of your life gets married to someone else."

Logan gives him a flat look. 

"Right, my bad. We can trauma bond about it later, say over dinner?" He reaches under the sink, pulling out the newest toupee—one of his more elegant wigs, this time a nearly identical replica of Nicepool's long locks.

Logan stared at the toupee, then back at Wade with a look of exasperation. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. You're actually wearing that?"

Wade grinned, holding the toupee up like a trophy. "Oh, come on. It's her big day. Nobody wants to see a walking scrotum sitting at the bar."

He plopped it onto his head, ignoring Logan's winces as he stapled it firmly to his head. He spins in a circle, posing a few times for Logan. "How do I look?"

"Horrifying."

"More or less than usual?" 

Logan didn't answer, his face crinkling into one of disgust. Wade spun back to face the mirror, rearranging the wig in the way he remembered Nicepool wore his--may he rest in peace--eyes flickering between his own reflection and Logan's as he watched him. Finally, feeling satisfied with his appearance, he turned around and clapped his hands. "Ready to rock and roll?"

Logan didn't move, choosing to sit there and just stare at him like he had something completely batshit crazy. His hands tightened around his thighs, white-knuckling the dark fabric. "How do you do that?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness.

Wade glanced up, confused. "Do what? The wig? I mean, sure, I watched a lot of tutorials, but really it's all in the quality-" 

"No," Logan interrupted, his tone sharper than usual. "I mean, how do you just...watch the love of your life get married to someone else?"

Wade was silent for a moment, his eyes focusing on the claw mark through the shower curtain. Hm. What fight caused that? He took a deep breath. "Well...when you love someone, when you really, truly love someone, it doesn't really matter who they end up with. Even if it isn't you, you're happy because they're happy." Wade shrugged, "And I think deep down, I knew it was never going to be me. People like her, good people, they don't end up with guys like me. They end up with the good guy."

"You are a good guy," Logan said sternly, startling Wade out of his half-reverie. "Annoying as fuck, a goddamn pervert, but you are a good guy."

Wade laughed softly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm really, really not."

Logan shook his head, stepping closer. "You saved the world for her. For your family. For everybody. You took me in, even though I'm a dick, and I'm 'grumpy' and I'm an alcoholic, and we nearly kill each other every day. When I was nothing but...when I was just nothing to anybody. When I was the 'worst' Wolverine, you didn't give a fuck what I had to say or what anyone else had to say. You told me I'm the best Wolverine. Even when I wasn't. When I haven't been."

Logan poked a thick finger into his chest. "You. Are. A. Good. Guy. Wade Wilson. Fuck her."

"Logan," Wade began slowly, "I've done a lot of things. Some of them... well, let's just say if there's a line, I've not only crossed it, I've stomped it into the ground and done a little tap dance on it."

Logan's expression didn't change, his gaze steady as he waited for Wade to continue.

"I saved the world, but I also destroyed a lot of it in the process. I killed people. People who didn't deserve it, who were just... there. Wrong place, wrong time. And every time I do something good, it's like there's this... tally board, and all those bad things I've done, they just get louder, like they're reminding me of who I really am. Of what I am."

Logan stepped even closer, closing the gap between them, his presence solid and grounding. "You think I don't know what that's like? To be haunted by what you've done? Hell, Wade, I've been carrying that weight for longer than I care to remember. But that doesn't define us. You saved the world not because you were trying to erase your past, but because you wanted to make a future for people you care about. That's what matters."

"Why do you even care? Why are you trying so hard to convince me that I'm worth something?" Wade shot back, poking his chest. "Why does it matter to you so much?"

Logan leaned in closer, and Wade had to resist the urge to pull away from him, pull away from his minty breath and his clenched teeth and those steak knives he called claws. "Because if you're not worth something, then what the hell am I?"

Wade's breath hitched, his brain short-circuiting as Logan's words hung in the air between them. 

His pulse quickened, and he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing something stupid, like closing the distance and finding out exactly how Logan's lips would feel pressed against his. He could imagine it so clearly, the way Logan's hands would grip his arms—tight enough to leave bruises, to hold him in place—and the way those clawed fingers would curl into his flesh, leaving marks that would fade almost as soon as they appeared.

He wanted to push Logan, to see how far he could go before the older man snapped. He wanted to feel Logan's rough hands on his skin, to have him take out all that pent-up frustration on him in the most primal way possible. Wade's thoughts drifted to what it would be like to be under Logan, to have him growling his name, those low, guttural sounds that Wade had only ever heard when Logan was pissed off or in the middle of a fight.

But as much as Wade wanted to give in to those thoughts, he knew better. He knew that if he pushed too far, if he acted on the urge that was currently making it hard to think straight, he'd be risking everything. Whatever this was between them, it was fragile, and Wade wasn't sure if it could survive if he crossed that line.

So instead, Wade did what he always did—he deflected. He forced a smirk onto his face, even though his heart was pounding in his chest, and tried to push the thoughts of Logan's lips, Logan's hands, Logan's everything, out of his mind.

"Wow, Wolvie," Wade said, his voice coming out a little more breathless than he intended. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting with me. You trying to get in my pants or something? Because, fair warning, I'm a cheap date—I'll put out after a few kind words and maybe a well-placed claw or two."

Logan's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Wade thought he saw something flash in them—something dark and dangerous that made his stomach do a weird flip. But then Logan just huffed, shaking his head like Wade was a particularly annoying puzzle he couldn't figure out. "You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" Logan growled, but there was no real bite behind it.

Wade shrugged, trying to keep it casual even though his thoughts were anything but. "It's part of my charm. But seriously, Logan, if you're not trying to seduce me, you're doing a terrible job of convincing me otherwise. I mean, you're practically on top of me right now. A guy could get the wrong idea."

Logan's eyes flicked down to where their chests were almost touching, and for a brief moment, Wade thought he saw his resolve waver. But then Logan took a step back, putting some much-needed distance between them, and the moment was gone.

Because if you're not worth something, then what the hell am I?

Wade cleared his throat, trying to shake off the sudden tension."Well, uh, glad we got all of that mushy stuff out of the way," Wade stammered, his usual bravado faltering. "Blech, gross. We better get, uh... going. Yeah, going."

Logan didn't respond right away, his intense gaze still locked on Wade. The silence stretched between them, and for a moment, Wade wondered if he'd said something wrong. He was about to crack another joke, something to diffuse the weirdness, when Logan took a step closer.

Wade froze, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Then, without warning, Logan reached out.

He flinched, closing his eyes instinctively, expecting the familiar snikt of Logan's claws, the sharp pain that usually followed their arguments. But instead of the expected slice of adamantium, Logan's fingers brushed against Wade's tie, deftly undoing the mess Wade had made and re-tying it with practiced ease. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost intimate, and Wade had to resist the urge to lean into it, to close the distance between them and— 

"There," Logan said, stepping back, his voice low and steady. "Now you don't look like you've been strangled by your own tie."

Wade's eyes flickered to Logan's lips, lingering there for a fraction of a second longer than he intended. His heart pounded against his ribcage, his pulse racing as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Logan's hand didn't immediately pull away after fixing the tie; instead, he ran it down the front of Wade's shirt, smoothing out the fabric with deliberate care. Wade couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him like this—so gently, so attentively. Wade's breath caught in his throat as Logan's fingers trailed over his shirt, the contact both unsettling and electrifying. He was close, so close that Wade could count the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, could feel the roughness of his calloused hands against his chest. Wade blinked, realizing he'd been holding his breath. "Thanks," he managed to say, though it came out more like a croak.

Logan's hand finally left his chest, but the warmth of his touch lingered, leaving Wade feeling oddly exposed. Before he could say anything, Logan was already turning away, heading for the door. "Come on," he said over his shoulder. "Don't want to be late."

Wade stood there, rooted to the spot.

Thumpthump

Thumpthump

Thumpthump

With one last glance at the door Logan had just walked through, Wade sighed. "What the actual fuck?"

---------------------------------

Wade shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable on the hard wooden pew. His suit felt tight, constricting—like it was trying to suffocate him in the most stylish way possible. And seriously, who thought it was a good idea to trap a bunch of people in formal wear inside a stuffy old church? It was practically a death sentence for someone with as much raw sexual energy as him. The vows were all about love, commitment, and blah blah blah—like these two weren't about to start arguing over who left the toilet seat up or whose turn it was to take out the trash as soon as the honeymoon phase wore off. Wade was tempted to shout, "Run while you still can!" but he didn't want to be responsible for ruining the wedding, especially not when Vanessa was watching him like a hawk.

She'd probably kill him before the groom even had the chance.

Wade's thoughts flickered to Vanessa again, his heart doing that annoying thing where it clenched a little too tight in his chest. He still loved her, didn't he? She was beautiful, smart, and probably the only person who actually tolerated his bullshit daily.

Then again...

He glanced over at Logan again, because apparently, self-torture was his new hobby. Logan's eyes were fixed on the couple at the altar, his expression unreadable, as usual. But Wade could see the way his jaw was clenched, the slight tension in his shoulders, and yeah, it was doing things to him. Like making him wonder if maybe—just maybe—he wanted Logan to look at him with that same intensity.

Logan's jaw was clenched so tight it could crack walnuts. His broad shoulders were tense, his posture rigid, but his eyes... there was something in his eyes as he watched the couple exchange vows that made Wade's stomach do somersaults. The intensity, the way Logan was completely focused on them, like he was imagining himself in that position.

But this wasn't about him. Not today. Wade had to remind himself that Vanessa was the one he was supposed to care about, the one he'd been infatuated with for longer than he cared to admit. Logan was just... a confusing detour in Wade's headspace. A very, very distracting detour with a gruff voice and a tendency to make Wade feel things he didn't want to feel.

The ceremony finally reached its climax—thank God—and the newlyweds kissed to the sound of applause and cheers. Wade joined in, clapping a little too enthusiastically because if he didn't do something with his hands, he was going to lose his mind. The whole room seemed to explode with joy, people hugging, crying, and congratulating each other, and Wade felt like he was watching it all from behind a glass wall. 

The reception was being held in a fancy-ass tent in the churchyard, complete with chandeliers, flowers everywhere, and enough booze to make even the most skeptical guest believe in true love, if only for a night. Wade was immediately drawn to the open bar, but Vanessa intercepted him before he could make a beeline for the alcohol. 

 Wade stared at Vanessa, at the elegant lines of her dress, and at the way her hair framed her face. She looked perfect, like a dream he'd once had—a dream he'd tried to make real. For a brief moment, he let himself get lost in the fantasy, the one where he was the one slipping that dress off her shoulders later tonight. He imagined their wedding day, the one they'd never had, where he stood beside her at the altar, vowing to love and cherish her until death do them part.

Only in Wade's version of things, it didn't go quite so smoothly. He knew, deep down, that if they had gotten married, the honeymoon phase would have worn off quickly. They would have grown sick of each other, like two feral cats trapped in a room with no escape. Wade's sarcasm would have grated on her nerves, and Vanessa's patience would have worn thin..He could see it now: the slow decline of their relationship, the love they once had eroding away like a sandcastle being eaten by the tide. Wade would have retreated into his bad habits, using humor as a shield to hide the pain, and Vanessa would have eventually realized that he wasn't the man she needed him to be. The end would have been inevitable—a messy, painful divorce that left them both worse off than before.

Or the other version of events, the one where he never became Deadpool. The one where he stayed with Vanessa after he found out about the cancer, trying to live out the time he had left, pretending that everything would be okay. They would have gone through with the wedding because that's what people in love do when they know their time is limited. They would have smiled for the photos, cut the cake, and danced the night away, all while a ticking clock hung over their heads, counting down the minutes until Wade's body gave out.

He imagined Vanessa sitting beside him in a sterile hospital room, holding his hand as he wasted away, his body betraying him piece by piece. He'd lose his hair, his strength, his ability to crack jokes without feeling like his chest was being crushed by an invisible weight. And Vanessa, God bless her, would have stayed by his side, wiping away her tears and pretending that she wasn't terrified of losing him. But in the end, he would have died, leaving her with nothing but memories of what could have been.

There was no happy ending for them. Not in this life. Not in any life.

Wade swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to breathe. "Vanessa, I—" He hesitated, unsure of what to say. What did one say to the love of their life when they were now married to someone else? "I'm happy for you," he finally managed, his voice rougher than he intended. "You look...incredible."

Vanessa's eyes softened at Wade's words, and she reached out to touch his arm gently, her fingers lingering just a moment too long. "Thank you, Wade," she said quietly. "That means a lot."

Wade forced a grin, though it felt like it was cracking his face in half. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I've only got so much sincerity in me before I start breaking out in hives."

Vanessa's smile was warm, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I-I wasn't sure you'd actually show up today," She confessed.

Ouch

Wade shifted on his feet, feeling like the floor beneath him might give way at any second. He'd faced down armed mercenaries, survived being blown to bits, and even dealt with the constant chatter in his own head, but this—standing in front of Vanessa in her wedding dress—was something else entirely. It was like staring into the sun, knowing it would burn him alive but unable to look away.

"Yeah, well, surprises are kinda my thing," Wade said, trying to keep his tone light, even though it felt like his chest was being crushed in a vice. "Besides, wouldn't miss seeing you tie the knot with Perfect Craig for anything. Real good jawline. Probably gets that shit chiseled by angels. What's his secret? Botox? Ozempic?" He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Devil's dandruff?"

Vanessa laughed softly, but the sound was tinged with something bittersweet. She glanced over her shoulder at Craig, who was surrounded by well-wishers, laughing and shaking hands like he'd just won a Nobel Prize for Being Fucking Awesome. Wade followed her gaze, trying not to let the jealousy gnaw too hard at his insides.

"He's a good guy, Wade," Vanessa said, her voice gentle like she was trying to convince him—or maybe herself. "He's everything I needed after...well, after everything, you know?."

Wade nodded, his eyes still locked on Craig, who was talking animatedly with someone across the room. "Yeah, I can see that. He's got that whole 'not a murderous lunatic' vibe going for him. Definitely an upgrade."

Vanessa's hand tightened on his arm, and he finally tore his gaze away from Craig to look at her. There was something in her eyes—something that made his heart stutter in his chest. Regret, maybe? Or just the weight of everything that had come between them? Wade wasn't sure.

"I never wanted things to end the way they did," Vanessa whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted to hurt you, Wade."

Wade swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in his throat from turning into full-blown tears. This wasn't the time for that. He was Deadpool, the Merc with a Mouth, not some lovesick fool who cried at weddings. But damn if seeing Vanessa like this didn't make him want to break every rule he'd set for himself.

"You didn't hurt me," Wade said, his voice softer now, more honest than he intended. "I mean, you did, but... I hurt myself more by letting you go, by pushing you away. And now, look at you," He held her at arm's length, gaze sweeping up and down. "You're happy. You deserve that."

Vanessa's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for a moment, Wade thought she might break down right there in front of him. But she didn't. She just nodded, blinking rapidly as she fought to keep her composure.

"I want you to be happy too, Wade," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I want you to find someone who can give you what you need, who can make you feel...whole."

Happy. The word felt foreign in his mouth, like something he wasn't supposed to touch.

Wade forced a chuckle, though it came out more like a choked gasp. "Yeah, well, you know me. I'm more of a jigsaw puzzle that's missing half the pieces. My half was probably chewed up, swallowed by a dog. Probably in a doggy bag somewhere."

Vanessa's breath hitched, and for a moment, Wade thought she might cry. But she didn't. Instead, she reached up and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over the rough, scarred skin that he hated so much. 

Wade closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for just a second, savoring the warmth and softness of her hand against his cheek. Then he pulled back, forcing a smile that he knew didn't quite reach his eyes. There was a moment of silence between them, a moment where everything they weren't saying hung in the air like a thick fog. Wade wanted to say more, to tell her how much she'd meant to him, how much he wished things could have been different. But this wasn't the time or place, and maybe it never would be.

"You'll be okay, Wade. I know you will," she told him, eyes shiny with unshed tears. 

"Of course, I will," Wade said, injecting as much confidence as he could muster into his voice. "I'm Wade fucking Wilson. I bounce back from everything. Except maybe disco. That shit leaves scars."

Vanessa's smile was soft, and for a moment, Wade could almost believe that everything would be okay. That he could move on, find someone else, and maybe even be happy again. But as he watched her turn away and walk back toward Craig, hand in hand, the reality of it all hit him like a punch to the gut.

He was letting her go. For real this time.

And as much as it hurt, as much as it made him want to scream and punch something until his knuckles bled, Wade knew it was the right thing to do. Vanessa deserved the world, and if he couldn't give it to her, then at least Craig could. The perfect, fucking flawless bastard.

--------------------------

The bar was set up with a dazzling array of top-shelf liquors and cocktails that would have made even the most discerning drinker drool. Not that Wade could get drunk—his healing factor made sure of that. But that didn't stop him from grabbing a drink if only to have something to occupy his hands and maybe distract himself from the ache in his chest. He poured himself a double shot of whiskey, the amber liquid swirled around the glass like liquid gold. He held the shot to his lips, gulping it down before slamming it on the counter.

"You know you can't drink your way out of feeling like shit, right?" 

Wade rolled his eyes, turning in his seat to face the man to his right. And there he was, standing with arms crossed, his trademark scowl in place as if he'd just smelled something that offended his delicate, animalistic senses. Logan looked good. Like, annoyingly good. The kind of good that made Wade question his life choices, like why he wasn't actively climbing Logan like a tree at this very moment.

But no, Wade was sad. Sad and horny. A combination that was probably illegal in some countries. He quickly distracted himself by grabbing another glass from the bar, because when the heart hurts, the hands need something to do, even if it's just pretending to drink. He poured another shot, staring at the liquid like it had all the answers. 

"Can't drink my way out of feeling like shit, huh?" Wade echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he glanced at Logan. "Well, I can't exactly stab my way out of it either, though I'm sure that's more your style." He downed the shot, immediately regretting it because all it did was remind him that he couldn't even get a decent buzz to dull the pain. Logan grunted, pushing away from the bar and grabbing a bottle of bourbon with the ease of someone who was used to handling dangerous situations. 

He arched an eyebrow, looking like he was about to say something serious, something deep and meaningful, which was a terrifying thought. Wade held up a hand, cutting him off before he could ruin the mood with any of that touchy-feely crap. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold the phone, Captain Broody Pants. I can practically see the wisdom trying to ooze out of your pores, and while I appreciate the effort, I'm really not in the mood for one of your lectures on how to be a real man or whatever."

Logan's lips twitched, a flicker of a smirk, though his eyes remained steady on Wade's, and damn if that wasn't doing things to him. "I was just going to say that moping around in a bar isn't going to change anything. You're better than this, Wade."

"Better than this?" Wade repeated, his voice taking on a theatrical tone as he spread his arms wide, nearly knocking over a glass in the process. "I'm the fucking poster boy for bad decisions! Drinking in a fancy-ass wedding bar while my ex—who, by the way, looks like a goddamn angel in that dress—is off dancing with Mr. Perfect McAsshat? This is exactly where I'm supposed to be!"

Logan sighed, the kind of sigh that said he'd rather be anywhere else but here, dealing with Wade's melodrama, but here he was anyway. "You're right. You're a mess. But you're not just some punchline. You're Wade Wilson, and you're more than just the guy who makes jokes when he's hurt."

Wade felt a pang in his chest, but he quickly shoved it down, because feelings? Feelings were for losers who didn't have a healing factor and a mask to hide behind. He looked Logan up and down, his gaze lingering a bit too long on the way Logan's shirt stretched over his chest, and yeah, maybe he was feeling a little bit of something that wasn't entirely sadness. 

Wade leaned in, close enough to smell the faint scent of cigars and whiskey that clung to Logan like a second skin. "And what exactly is that? Fucking? Or stabbing things until they stop moving? Because I gotta say, I'm partial to both."

Wade was teetering on the edge of sad and horny, and it was a dangerous place to be, especially when Logan was standing this close, looking all rugged and perfect and... stabby. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a katana, and Wade was half-tempted to close the distance, to do something that would definitely be a bad idea but would feel oh so good. "You know, we could just forget about all this Vanessa shit," Wade suggested, his tone light and teasing, but with an edge of something real underneath. "And instead, we could focus on something more... distracting."

Logan's gaze flickered to Wade's lips, and for a split second, Wade thought maybe—just maybe—Logan would go for it. But then Logan pulled back, just enough to make Wade want to reach out and pull him back in. "You're a real piece of work, Wilson," Logan said, his voice gruff but tinged with something that Wade couldn't quite place. "But I think you've had enough self-pity for one night."

Logan took the empty shot glass from Wade's hand, his grip firm but careful, like he was dealing with a volatile substance. "Come on, Bubba," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. 

Before Wade could protest, Logan hoisted him off the barstool with a grunt, not even breaking a sweat. For a guy who looked like he was perpetually two seconds away from going on a rampage, Logan sure had a way of handling fragile things. Wade was trying really hard not to count himself in that category, but tonight... tonight was different.

As they made their way to the exit, Wade threw one last, lingering look at the bar. "Farewell, overpriced liquor that doesn't work on me. We could've been something, but alas, it wasn't meant to be."

Logan rolled his eyes but didn't bother responding. He practically shoved Wade out the door and into the cool night air. The parking lot was quiet, the kind of eerie quiet that made Wade want to crack a joke just to fill the silence. But he couldn't find the words, so he just slumped against Logan as they walked to the car.

Logan unlocked the car with a click, and Wade flopped into the passenger seat like a sack of very attractive, emotionally complex potatoes. As Logan started the engine, the silence between them grew thick, charged with an undercurrent of tension that neither of them seemed willing to address head-on.

Wade stared out the window as they drove, his mind racing with thoughts he didn't want to have. He couldn't help it, though. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Vanessa—happy, glowing, and wrapped up in someone else's arms. Someone who wasn't him. His chest felt tight, like there was a vice clamped around his heart, squeezing until he could barely breathe.

Logan, as usual, was the epitome of quiet resolve. His hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, his knuckles turning white with the effort. Wade noticed the tension in Logan's jaw, the way his eyes stayed fixed on the road, like he was determined to ignore the elephant in the car—the one wearing a red-and-black suit and feeling like a complete and utter failure.

They pulled up outside of their place, and Logan killed the engine. For a moment, neither of them moved. Wade was too wrapped up in his own head, and Logan... well, Logan was Logan. The kind of guy who dealt with problems by punching them in the face, but tonight, he couldn't punch Wade's heartbreak into submission. 

"Come on, let's get you inside," Logan said, finally breaking the silence. He got out of the car and walked around to Wade's side, opening the door with a gentleness that Wade didn't deserve. Wade let Logan help him out, his feet dragging as they walked to the front door. Once inside, the emptiness of the place hit Wade like a ton of bricks. The apartment felt too big, too quiet, too... everything. Like it was mocking him with its emptiness. Al must've gone out and taken Dogpool with her.

Logan led Wade to Al's bedroom, his hand on Wade's back, guiding him like he was afraid Wade might collapse at any moment. Wade did feel like he might. Like he was a sickly maiden in need of care. 

"Alright, Bubba, get in," Logan said, his voice gruff but not unkind. He pulled back the covers, nodding for Wade to get in.

Wade hesitated at the edge of the bed, staring down at the rumpled sheets like they held some sort of answer. "You know what I hope?" Wade said, his voice soft, almost a whisper. He looked up at Logan, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I hope I go to sleep and never wake up."

Logan froze in the doorway, his hand hovering over the light switch. The tension in the air thickened, and for a moment, Wade thought Logan might actually turn around and leave him there, alone with his thoughts. But instead, Logan's shoulders tensed, and he turned back to face Wade, his eyes blazing with something Wade couldn't quite name. "Don't say that shit."

Wade shrugged. "Why not? It's true. No one would miss me if I was gone. Hell, half the people I know would probably throw a party. 'Ding dong, the Deadpool's dead.'"

Logan's eyes narrowed, his usual gruffness giving way to something sharper, more intense. He stepped closer to Wade, his boots heavy on the floor, and for a moment, the air between them felt like it was about to snap. "Is this all over some girl?" Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

Wade flinched at Logan's words, but he didn't back down. Instead, he gave a bitter laugh, the kind that cut deep and didn't even try to hide the pain behind it. "Some girl?" Wade echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, sure, let's reduce the love of my life to 'some girl.' Why not? It's not like she's the one person who made me feel like I wasn't just some cosmic punchline. No, let's just call her 'some girl' and pretend like everything's fine."

Logan crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze hard as steel, but there was something else there too. Concern, maybe? Or pity? Wade couldn't tell, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "So you're telling me this is all about Vanessa? You're ready to check out for good because some guy married her instead of you?"

Wade didn't respond as he shrugged his suit jacket off, throwing it into a corner of the room.

Logan's jaw clenched, and for a moment, Wade thought he might actually walk away, leave him to drown in his own self-pity. But Logan didn't move. Instead, he stepped back into the room, crossing the distance between them in a few quick strides. He grabbed Wade by the shoulders, forcing him to look up, to meet his gaze. Logan's eyes were intense, filled with a fierce kind of determination that took Wade by surprise.

"Don't you ever say that again," Logan growled, his grip tightening just enough to make his point. "You think you're the only one who's ever lost something that mattered? That you're the only one who's ever had to watch someone they love walk away?"

Wade opened his mouth to respond with some smartass remark, but Logan wasn't done. He shook Wade slightly, enough to make his head snap back and his thoughts scatter. "Shut up and listen, Mouth. I know that's really fucking hard for you but try, just this once," Logan's voice cut through Wade's attempt at humor like a hot knife through butter. "You're not the only one who's lost people, who's had to watch someone they love walk away. But you don't see me sitting around wishing I'd never wake up. You know why?"

Wade opened his mouth to retort, but Logan's glare was enough to shut him up.

"Because there's more to life than just one person," Logan pressed on, his grip still firm on Wade's shoulders. "You think I don't know what it's like to love someone so much it hurts? To want something so bad, but know it'll never be yours? Hell, Wade, I've lived more lifetimes than you can imagine, and I've seen it all. But I'm still here. You know why?"

"Because it's not just about them. It's about you. About the people who still give a damn about you, even when you're being a complete jackass. And yeah, you've got family, and you've got friends. You've got people who care whether you're here or not. Even if you don't want to admit it, they'd miss you."

Wade's throat tightened, and he tried to brush it off with a joke. "Wow, Peanut, you're really laying it on thick. What's next? We braid each other's hair and talk about our feelings?"

Logan ignored the quip, his gaze unwavering. "You think no one would miss you? Bullshit." He leaned in closer, clenching his teeth so tightly together Wade was scared they might shatter under the tension. "I would."

Wade's heart skipped a beat, the realization crashing down on him with all the subtlety of a freight train. 

Holy fuck!

 He felt like the ceiling had just opened up and Marvel Jesus himself had shone a spotlight on his head.

He might actually Like Logan! And not just in the 'Hey, you're body is banging! Let's make sweet, sweet love under the moonlight' type of way. More in a 'Logan in sweatpants, barely awake but still trying to make coffee that didn't taste like motor oil,  while Wade propped his chin on his broad shoulder, peppering kisses on the back of his neck where his scent was thickest'. Wade could see them both tangled in blankets, half-watching crappy morning TV while debating whether or not they should actually get up while Mary Puppins snuggled in between the two of them (probably closer to Logan because she somehow liked him better than Wade--the traitor!). He could imagine them grocery shopping: Logan pushing a cart while Wade threw random items into it just to mess with him. They'd argue over the proper way to pick out produce and whether or not buying ten different types of cereal was excessive. Logan grumbling about fixing leaky faucets or assembling furniture, while Wade pretended to be the handyman, only making things worse, but he would be in prime view of Logan's ass when he inevitably had to fix it. Filing taxes, paying bills, and attending boring social functions that Wade would have to pretend to love because Logan would secretly want to be there. Matching Christmas sweaters. Thanksgiving. Knowing Logan and he wouldn't kill each other if a knife or two were drawn. Knowing that it would inevitably lead to sexsexsexsex. 

"What?" Logan growled, the sound low and rough, vibrating through the air between them.

Wade didn't answer. 

Instead, he just leaned in, closing the distance between them in one fluid motion.

The kiss was hot and heavy, filled with the kind of desperation that had been simmering under the surface for too long. Wade's hands fisted in Logan's shirt, pulling him closer, while Logan's hands gripped Wade's hips, anchoring him in place. It wasn't gentle or sweet—it was raw, messy, and full of the kind of need that Wade had been trying to ignore for months. Maybe even longer.Logan's jacket was the first casualty, hitting the floor with a dull thud as Wade tore it off him, his fingers already working to unbutton Logan's shirt. But before he could get more than a couple of buttons undone, Logan pushed him back with a force that sent Wade stumbling.

"What the hell?" Wade breathed out, his voice shaky as he stared at Logan in confusion. "You don't want me either?"

Logan didn't answer immediately. He turned away, scrubbing a hand over his face, his shoulders hunched like he was carrying the weight of the world on them.

"You still love her," Logan said, his voice rough and strained, like it physically hurt him to say the words.

"What?"

Logan moved to leave the room, his movements jerky and tense, but Wade wasn't about to let him go that easily. He grabbed Logan's arm, yanking him back. "Whoa, you prick. You can't just blue-ball me here. What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're sad. And horny-"

"Like always," Wade shot back, trying to keep the situation light even as his heart pounded in his chest.

"Jesus Christ," Logan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to ward off a headache. "Can you take this seriously? Just this once."

"Can you stop acting like a fucking teenager about this? It's sex, Peanut. It's not a big fucking deal-"

"To you," Logan snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut. Wade froze, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut.

"What?" Wade asked, his voice smaller than he intended, the confusion clear in his eyes.

Logan's eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth twitching into a snarl. "Figure it out," Logan growled, his voice rough with emotion. "You're smart."

And with that, Logan turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to make the walls rattle. 

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning was as awkward as Wade had expected, if not worse. He shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep, only to find Logan already there, his back turned as he fixed a cup of coffee. Logan didn't look up when Wade entered, and for a moment, Wade thought about turning around and heading back to his room. But he was Deadpool, damn it. He didn't back down from anything—especially not from an awkward morning-after conversation.

"Morning, Sunshine," Wade chirped, pouring a generous amount of sugar into his mug before sloshing in some coffee. The silence that followed was deafening. Logan didn't respond, just took a long sip of his coffee, his shoulders still hunched in that brooding way Wade had come to associate with something being seriously wrong.

"Okay, so, this is how it's gonna be?" Wade pressed, his voice unusually quiet. "We're just gonna pretend last night didn't happen?"

Logan's jaw clenched, and he set his mug down with a bit too much force. Wade winced at the sound, the tension in the room ratcheting up another notch.

"Nothing happened," Logan finally said, his voice low and even, like he was trying to keep his temper in check. 

Wade felt a flash of irritation. "Bullshit," he shot back, leaning against the counter. "You were this close—" he held his fingers inches apart "—to making this a whole different kind of morning. But you stopped. Why?"

Logan's eyes flicked up to meet Wade's, dark and stormy, before he looked away again. "Drop it, Wade."

"Logan..."

"I said drop it," Logan growled, and this time there was an edge of warning in his voice that made Wade hesitate. For a moment, he considered pushing further, demanding an answer, but the look on Logan's face made him think twice. There was something there—something raw and vulnerable that Wade wasn't used to seeing in the man who was normally so composed, so unflinchingly stoic.

"Fine. Have it your way," Wade muttered, backing off. But the hurt was still there, simmering beneath the surface, and he couldn't quite hide it in his voice. "I'll just be over here, pining pathetically like the lovesick puppy you think I am."

Logan's shoulders tensed at that, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned and walked out of the kitchen without another word, leaving Wade alone with his thoughts and a sinking feeling in his gut.-------------------------------------------------------------The days that followed were a painful routine of avoidance and missed opportunities. Every time Wade tried to bring up what had happened between them—or rather, what hadn't happened—Logan found a way to dodge the conversation. He'd leave the room, change the subject, or growl out a curt "Not now, Bub," before disappearing for hours on end. 

Wade kept telling himself that it was fine. Logan was just being his usual broody, emotionally constipated self, and he'd come around eventually. But as the days turned into weeks, Wade couldn't ignore the growing distance between them. It was like there was this invisible wall between them now, and no matter how hard Wade tried, he couldn't break through it.

One evening, about a month after that night, Wade finally snapped. Logan had been avoiding him all day, and Wade had had enough. He cornered Logan in the hallway, blocking his path."Okay, seriously, what the fuck is your problem?" Wade demanded, his voice tinged with frustration and something that sounded a lot like desperation.

Logan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Not now-"

"Not now? When then?" Wade shot back, his voice rising. "Because it's been 'not now' for weeks, and I'm kinda sick of it."

"What do you want from me, Wade?" Logan asked, his voice low, almost defeated. "You want me to apologize for stopping something that shouldn't have happened in the first place? Or do you just want to keep pushing until you get what you want?"

"What I want?" he echoed, the anger in his voice mixing with genuine confusion. "You think this is about getting what I want?"

Logan didn't answer, but the look in his eyes said enough. Wade felt something snap inside him. He didn't know what else to do, how else to get through to Logan. So he did the one thing he knew how to do best—he picked a fight.

"Fine," Wade muttered, his voice darkening. "If that's what you think of me, then let's do this your way."

Before Logan could react, Wade pulled out one of his katanas and slashed at Logan's arm, the blade cutting through muscle and skin with a sickening sound. Logan hissed in pain, his hand going to the wound instinctively, but he didn't fight back. Wade watched as the wound began to heal almost immediately, the flesh knitting itself back together with that all-too-familiar rapidity. 

"Fight back!" Wade shouted, slashing at Logan again, this time across the chest. Blood splattered across the floor, but Logan still didn't react. He just stood there, taking it, his face a mask of stoic resolve.

"What's the matter, huh? You scared you'll get your ass handed to you again, old man?" Wade taunted, his voice shaking with barely contained rage.

Logan winced as another cut split across his shoulder, but still, he didn't fight back. Wade kept slashing, over and over, the adrenaline pumping through his veins making him feel invincible, unstoppable. But Logan just kept taking it, letting Wade tear him apart without so much as lifting a finger in defense.

"Come on!" Wade screamed, slashing at Logan's side, the blade slicing deep. "Fight back, you fucking coward! What's wrong with you?!"

Finally, Logan snapped. With a growl, he grabbed Wade by the shirt, his grip like iron as he lifted him off the ground and hurled him across the room. Wade crashed through the window with a loud shatter, glass exploding around him as he tumbled through the air, landing hard in the dumpster outside.

Wade lay there for a moment, dazed, before the smell hit him. He groaned, rolling over onto his back and glaring up at the shattered window above.

"Motherfucker!" he yelled, voice echoing in the alleyway. "You know I've been stashing Mary Poppins pee pads in here!"

There was no answer from the window, just the sound of glass crunching as Logan moved inside. Wade lay back, staring up at the sky, his body already healing from the rough landing.

-----------------------------------

Wade drummed his fingers on the table, his leg bouncing restlessly under it. Vanessa looked radiant—marriage seemed to suit her, not that Wade was surprised. Craig was a decent guy, stable, boring, rich as hell. Basically, the opposite of Wade in every conceivable way.

"So, married life treating you good?" Wade asked, forcing a grin that was more genuine than he expected. "You two already planning to pop out some tiny, annoyingly perfect babies, or are you still enjoying the honeymoon phase?"

Vanessa smiled a soft, almost serene expression that made Wade's chest ache just a little. "We're just taking it one day at a time. Craig's been amazing, and I'm happy, Wade. I really am."

Wade made a mock gagging noise, sticking his finger in his mouth. "Ugh, gross. You're so happy and fulfilled without me. It's almost like my destructive influence was holding you back or something."

She chuckled, the sound light and free, and Wade felt the tension in his chest loosen a bit. "You know that's not true. I was a hooker-"

"A damn good one, too," Wade said, taking a sip. He paused, sunglasses barely shielding the glare from the sun that shone over their rich person patio. "Is this the part when I beg for you to take me back?

Vanessa smirked. "Ha ha. Fuck you."

Wade took a sip of his tea, letting the warm liquid settle the nervous energy buzzing under his skin. "Did that. Was in a movie about it. Died for it. Next."

She laughed, a light sound that made Wade's heart clench just a little. Not the gut-wrenching, chest-crushing kind of clench, but more like a distant echo of something that used to be there. "Wade," Vanessa said softly, leaning forward slightly. "I'm happy. But you know what? I'm happy that you're here, and you seem... okay. Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm spectacular," Wade replied with a grin, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thriving, really. Living the dream. My roommate only fucking hates me half the time now, and I'm still doing the whole 'merc with a mouth' thing, which, as you know, is a dream come true."

Vanessa's smile dimmed slightly, and Wade could see the concern creeping in around the edges of her expression. "You haven't shut up about him since you got here, you know."

"Who, Logan?" Wade waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, well, he's my roommate. It's kind of hard not to talk about the guy who's up my ass--figuratively, not literally--24/7."

Vanessa gave him a knowing look, the kind that made Wade squirm in his seat. "Wasn't he supposed to move out or something? I remember you saying he was looking for a place."

Wade shrugged, taking a sip of his tea as if that would somehow make the question go away. "Yeah, well, apparently he doesn't want to 'break the lease' or something. But we both know the real reason is that he's finally realizing money doesn't grow on trees. Life's expensive out there in the big bad world."

"Or," Vanessa said, her voice gentle but firm, "he realizes that if he does, he's leaving a good thing behind."

Wade choked on his tea, coughing and sputtering like he'd just swallowed a live grenade.  "I beg your fucking pardon?" he croaked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Vanessa smiled knowingly, hiding her grin behind her cup. "You like him, Wade. And he likes you."

Wade stared at her, his brain scrambling to make sense of what she was saying. "Mmm. I see. That's close. I like him. He doesn't like me at all, apparently."

"And he told you that?" Vanessa asked flatly.

"Uh, dur," Wade said, waving his hand as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "In a series of grunts and by refusing to have sexual intercourse with me, yes."

Vanessa set her cup down with a soft clink, her expression softening. "Logan called me."

Wade gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he'd been shot. "That conniving bitch! What did he say about me?"

Vanessa stirred the tea with her finger, the wedding ring glinting as it moved in circles. Wade's eyes followed it like a cat would a laser. Vanessa took another sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving his. "He said that I was stupid for letting you go."       

Wade waved his hand dismissively. "Debatable. And?"

"He told me," Vanessa continued, her voice soft but steady, "that I should break up with Craig and take you back, or cut you loose because I was going to kill you if I kept stringing you along."

Wade stared at her, his mouth suddenly dry. He gulped, trying to find words that made sense, but all he could do was blink. Vanessa reached across the table, grabbing his hands in hers. Her touch was warm, comforting, and Wade suddenly felt very, very small. 

"Wade Wilson," she said, her voice steady, sincere. "I love you."

And for a split second, Wade thought he was supposed to feel something monumental, like the earth shifting beneath his feet, like the universe snapping into place. These were the words he had once ached to hear, the words that had haunted him in the dead of night. But now... now, they just felt like words.

His heart wasn't pounding, his palms weren't sweaty. He didn't feel the urge to fall to his knees and beg her to take him back. Instead, all he felt was a soft, gentle sort of peace. A peace that whispered to him that this chapter of his life was over, and that was okay.

Actually, at this moment, all he really wanted was to go home. To Blind Al, who was probably cussing at some kid in an online poker game. To Dogpool, whose piles of drool probably needed cleaning. To their stupid little apartment, filled to the brim with cocaine, pictures, garbage, and those damn candles people kept buying him even though he didn't even like them. And, well... he kind of wanted to go home to Logan. And kiss him. A lot.

"Huh..." Wade murmured, the realization settling over him like a warm blanket.

Vanessa rubbed her thumb over his hand, her eyes shining with understanding. "Wade Wilson."

Wade smiled softly, the first genuine smile he'd felt in a long time. "Vanessa Carlysle."

She playfully corrected him, "Vanessa Van Housen."

Wade made a face, his nose crinkling in mock disgust. "Even his last name sounds pompous as fuck. Where did he get it? Rich Guy Name Generator?"

Vanessa laughed, that beautiful, familiar sound that he'd once fallen in love with. But this time, his chest didn't hurt. Not even a little.

Well, maybe a little. An eensy bit. He did save the world for her at one point of his life after all.

Vanessa laughed, a genuine laugh that warmed Wade's heart, but this time, it didn't hurt. It didn't make him want to cling to her or beg her to take him back. It just felt... nice.And for once, nice was enough.

---------------------------------------------------Wade took a deep breath, his fingers lingering on the doorknob for just a second longer than necessary. The familiar creak of the door sounded as he pushed it open, stepping inside the apartment.

His eyes immediately landed on Logan, who was hunched over the kitchen table, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at his laptop. The soft glow of the screen illuminated Logan's rugged features, casting shadows across the sharp lines of his jaw and the deep-set intensity of his eyes. He was dressed in a plain white tank top that clung to his muscular frame, showing off every ripple and curve of his biceps and shoulders. The tank top was just a little too tight, revealing a hint of the veins that snaked down his arms. 

Wade couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail, every line etched into Logan's skin, every slight movement of his fingers as they tapped at the keyboard. There was something almost hypnotic about the way Logan moved—deliberate, controlled, like a predator always ready to strike. And yet, there was a softness in his expression, a vulnerability that Wade had only glimpsed in fleeting moments.

Logan must have sensed Wade's presence because he looked up, their eyes locking across the room. For a few tense seconds, neither of them spoke, the air between them thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Wade's heart pounded in his chest, a dull ache settling in his stomach as he waited for Logan to say something, anything, to break the silence.

"I found a place," Logan said finally, his voice low and gruff. He looked back at his laptop, as if the words didn't matter, as if they hadn't just ripped Wade's heart out and stomped on it. "I'll be out in a month."

Wade didn't respond. His mind was reeling, his chest tight with a sudden, crushing sense of loss. Without a word, he turned and headed for his bedroom, his feet moving on autopilot. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. The thought of Logan leaving, of him not being here—every day, every morning, every night—

Just as he reached the door to his room, Wade stopped dead in his tracks. 

Wait, what the fuck am I doing? 

Spinning on his heel, Wade marched into Blind Al's room, spotting a set of keys on her bed. He snatched them up without a second thought and stormed back into the kitchen. Logan looked up just in time to see Wade launch the keys at his head. Logan caught them mid-air, his reflexes as sharp as ever.

"You nearly took my eye out," Logan growled, glaring at Wade with a look that could have melted steel.

Wade ignored the complaint, his voice deadly serious. "Get in the car."

Logan blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Get in the fucking car," Wade repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Or I swear to God I will chop all of your limbs off and manually put you piece by piece in the passenger seat."

Logan's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them. "Yeah? Let me know how that goes."

Wade shrugged, adopting a casual tone that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface. "Fine. Plan B."

Logan's eyes flickered with suspicion. "What the hell is Plan B?"

Without warning, Wade pulled out a gun and shot Logan in the head. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the apartment, followed by the heavy thud of Logan's body hitting the floor. Wade holstered the gun, already moving to gather supplies.----------------------------------

When Logan woke up, he found himself tied up in the back of Wade's Honda Odyssey, the world outside the windows speeding by in a blur. His head must have been throbbing, the remnants of the bullet wound still knitting together, and his limbs were bound tightly with duct tape, leaving him immobile.

Wade glanced back from the driver's seat, a wide grin plastered across his face. "Morning, Sunshine. I wondered how long it would be until you woke up."

"Motherfucker," Logan growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble as he tugged at the duct tape binding his limbs. "You fucking shot me."

Wade shrugged, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to catch Logan's glare. "I couldn't take any chances, Peanut. You've been a slippery little bastard lately." He grinned, the kind of grin that promised trouble. "And besides, it's nothing you haven't survived before."

Logan let out a feral snarl, his muscles straining against the tape. "I'm going to rip your goddamn arms off when I get out of this."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," Wade replied dismissively, turning his attention back to the road. "You know, I'd say this is like our little Honda Odyssey scene in Deadpool 3, but I don't think Marvel's legal team would appreciate the comparison." He paused, considering that for a second. "Or maybe they would. Marvel loves free promo."

Logan's eyes narrowed, his mind clearly already working on an escape plan, but before he could start making any progress, Wade suddenly veered off the highway and into an abandoned Denny's parking lot. The car screeched to a halt, gravel spraying in all directions.

"Why the hell are we here?" Logan growled, his voice dripping with suspicion.

Wade put the car in park, unbuckling his seatbelt with a dramatic flourish. "Because, Logan, nobody gives a shit about what happens at a Denny's. We could start World War III out here, and the only response we'd get is someone asking if we want extra syrup with our pancakes." He stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

Logan had barely a second to react before Wade yanked open the back door and dragged him out, tossing him into the passenger seat like a sack of potatoes. Logan hit the seat with a grunt, his healing factor kicking in almost instantly to dull the pain. Wade slid back into the driver's seat of the car, manually locking his side with a knowing look despite the busted-out windows, before turning back toward Logan.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a knife, and in one swift motion, cut through the duct tape binding Logan's arms. "Come on, Old Man," Wade taunted. "Let's settle this the old-fashioned way. You, me, Denny's parking lot, and ole reliable here," he punched the top of the car. "It's practically destiny."

Logan didn't need any more encouragement, his claws extending with that familiar snikt as he launched himself at Wade. But Wade was ready, his reflexes sharp as ever. He ducked under Logan's first swing, his body moving with the fluidity of someone who had been through this dance a thousand times before.

"Oh, so it's gonna be like that, huh?" Wade quipped, sidestepping another swipe from Logan's claws. "If you wanted to get your hands on me, all you had to do was ask. But hey, I'm not into that kind of foreplay—well, not unless there's dinner involved."

Logan growled, his eyes narrowing as he swung again, this time aiming for Wade's midsection. Wade blocked the strike with his forearm, wincing as the claws sliced through his suit, drawing blood. But instead of backing off, he grinned, the pain only fueling his adrenaline.

"You know, you're really good at this. Must be all those years of pent-up frustration, huh? Tell me, does it make you feel better to have someone to hit who actually enjoys it? Because, spoiler alert, I'm loving this," Wade said, ducking under Logan's next attack and spinning around to deliver a quick jab to Logan's ribs. 

Logan grunted, the punch barely fazing him as he countered with a brutal elbow to Wade's jaw. Wade's head snapped back, and for a moment, everything went white. But he recovered quickly, shaking it off with a laugh.

"You're really getting into this, aren't you?" Wade taunted, rubbing his jaw. 

Logan's response was a wordless snarl as he lunged again, this time driving Wade back against the carseat. Wade barely had time to brace himself before Logan's claws were in his chest. Logan plunged them into his chest cavity upwards of twelve times--a new record, hooray!--before he drove them into his chest one last time. 

Wade's grin never faltered, even as he felt the claws imbed themselves into the back of the seat.. "Is this your way of saying you're into me? Because I gotta say, it's kinda hot." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his voice dropping to a low, teasing purr. "If you wanted to pin me against something, all you had to do was ask."

Logan's eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and frustration, his grip tightening. "You don't know when to shut up, do you?"

"Never have, never will," Wade replied with a wink. "But hey, if it's any consolation, I've been told I'm a great kisser. You know, in case you wanted to switch things up."

Logan's snarl deepened, and for a moment, Wade thought he might actually go through with it—end this ridiculous dance once and for all. But instead, Logan shoved him away, sending Wade's back into the driver's seat. 

Wade caught himself on the steering wheel, laughing breathlessly as he wiped the blood from his mouth. "Is that it? Is that all you got?"

Logan didn't respond, his chest heaving as he struggled to rein in his emotions. His claws retracted with a snikt. "Why do you keep doing this?" Logan's voice was hoarse, as if the question itself was tearing something out of him.

Wade grinned through the pain, his heart hammering in his chest as he locked eyes with Logan. "What? Fighting you?" Wade's voice was thick with mock surprise as he feigned innocence. "I thought you enjoyed it! I stab you, you stab me. I figured it'd bring back some of that good ol' nostalgia, you know? A trip down memory lane, back to where it all started—two dysfunctional guys, beating the crap out of each other in the shittiest, fuckiest vehicle on planet earth. It's almost romantic."

Logan's patience snapped, and with a sudden, vicious movement, he snatched one of Wade's own knives and drove it into Wade's side. Wade's laughter turned into a growl as the blade bit deep, but it only fueled the fire raging inside him.

"That's it!" Wade roared as he pounced on Logan, his hand slamming the lever to push the passenger seat back. In one fluid motion, Wade straddled Logan's chest, the golden guns he loved so much flipping out of their holsters and pressing against Logan's forehead.

Logan stared up at him, his eyes filled with fury and something else—something that looked an awful lot like resignation. "You won't."

Wade's grin turned feral. "I already did. And I will again." He cocked the gun, the cold metal pressing harder against Logan's skull. "How do bullets sound for dinner, sweet thing?"

Logan growled, his muscles tensing beneath Wade as he tried to push him off. But before he could even get a word out, Wade fired a shot into Logan's thigh. Logan's snarl was drowned out by the sound of the gunshot, his claws tearing through the fabric of the car seat as he struggled to break free.

"Stop! Oh my god, just stop for a second!" Wade snapped, the frustration finally boiling over. "Can I just say what I need to say before you turn me into a Wolverine shish-kabob?"

Logan's teeth bared in a feral snarl, but he stopped pushing against Wade, his breath ragged and hot against Wade's chest. Wade leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost dangerous whisper as he spoke. "You're really making this difficult, you know that?"

"Mask off," Logan grunted, his eyes narrowing as he stared up at Wade.

Wade hesitated, the familiar mask suddenly feeling like a shield he wasn't ready to lower. "No, I prefer to keep the mask on, actually. And I'm literally the one calling the shots here, so—"

Logan's claws shot out, piercing through Wade's thigh with brutal efficiency. Wade yelped, his grip on the guns tightening as pain shot through his leg. "Marvel H. Christ, fine! Mask off! You really need to work on using your words, angel face, or this is never going to work. I mean, don't get me wrong, it turns me on, but a guy can only take so much—"

"What's never going to work?" Logan interrupted, his voice low and dangerous, cutting through Wade's rambling like a knife.

Wade froze, his bravado faltering for the first time. The humor in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly reached up to pull off his mask, revealing the scarred, disfigured face beneath.

He looked down at Logan, his breath hitching in his throat as he finally said the words that had been clawing at the back of his mind for months. "I like you."

Logan snorted, his expression dark and disbelieving. "Fuck off."

"It's true, sugar bear. Trust me, I hate it as much as you do. But I, Wade Redacted Wilson, have a crush on Logan Most Obvious Last Name Ever."

Logan's eyes searched Wade's face, looking for any sign of a joke, any hint that this was just another one of Wade's twisted games. But all he found was honesty—raw, unfiltered, and terrifying.

"You're serious," Logan muttered, more to himself than to Wade.

Wade nodded, his heart pounding in his ears. "Yeah, I am. And it's really fucking scary because I know I'm the last person you'd ever want to be with. But I can't help it. I mean, I know that I'm not much. I don't have a steady income or even a legit job. I know I'm annoying as all get out, and that I look like deer jerky that's been over-dried, and that I come with a lot of baggage. Like going on a trip and never coming back so I pack all of my belongings type baggage. And I don't even know if you're gay, even, I mean. I don't know if Marvel was going for comic book accurate or if we're set on making you straight Wolvie. Like, am I making a complete ass of myself? Probably. But I'm willing to take that chance because, honestly, you're the only thing in my life that feels right. Even if it means I'm risking everything to be here, saying this, right now."

Logan's silence was deafening. His claws retracted, and for a moment, he just stared at Wade, his expression unreadable.

"Say something," Wade whispered, his voice cracking with uncertainty. "Anything. Or I'm just going to keep talking, and it's going to get really personal-"

"Gubernatorial."

"What-?"

Logan didn't answer with words; instead, he closed the distance between them in one swift motion, grabbing the front of Wade's suit and pulling him into a kiss so fierce and intense that it silenced every smart-ass remark Wade had been about to make. Wade's eyes widened in shock for a split second before they fluttered shut, his body melting into Logan's. 

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—

Wade's thoughts raced as he clung to Logan, his hands gripping the older man's biceps like they were the only thing anchoring him to reality. The kiss was all teeth and desperation, as if both of them had been waiting for this moment longer than either wanted to admit. Wade's hands slid up to Logan's shoulders, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until he felt like he was drowning in it.

He didn't even realize they'd started moving until his back hit the backseat of the Odyssey, and Logan's body pressed against him, solid and unyielding. Wade's breath hitched as Logan's lips left his, trailing hot kisses down his jaw, his neck, making him shiver.

"I—uh, I really thought—" Wade began, his voice hoarse as Logan nipped at his collarbone, "I really thought you were gonna punch me or something. Which, don't get me wrong, would've been totally hot too, but—oh fuck—this is way better."

Logan's response was a low growl against Wade's skin, his hands already working on the fastenings of Wade's suit. Wade let out a shaky laugh, his fingers fumbling with Logan's belt in return.

"God, you're such a goddamn tease," Wade babbled as Logan's hands roamed over his body, finding every scar and every sensitive spot with an infuriating level of precision. "I mean, seriously, you're gonna drive me crazy, but I guess that's not a far drive, huh? Get it? Because I'm already—oh, shit, that's good—"

Logan's lips were back on his, silencing him again, but Wade couldn't help himself. He kept talking between kisses, the words spilling out of him like a dam had burst.

"Okay, okay, I know I talk too much—oh my God, that's amazing—like, I just, I can't stop, it's a problem, really, I should probably—fuck—probably see a therapist about it, but—Jesus, Wolvie—"

Logan's hands slid down to Wade's hips, lifting him up like he weighed nothing, and Wade's legs wrapped around him instinctively. He could feel Logan's hard body against his, the heat between them almost unbearable.

"Wait, wait—are you sure—" Wade started, but Logan shut him up with another bruising kiss, his body pressing Wade into the seats. Wade moaned, his hands threading through Logan's hair, pulling him closer.

"You're sure," Wade muttered against Logan's lips, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth even as Logan's hands roamed lower. "Okay, okay, just checking, 'cause I don't want you to—ah—regret this later, and—oh fuck, don't stop—"

Logan didn't stop. His hands were everywhere, his mouth hot and demanding as he kissed, licked, and bit his way down Wade's chest, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, making Wade arch off the seat. 

"I mean, seriously, Wolvie, who would've thought—oh God—who would've thought you were so good at this? I mean, not that I doubted you, 'cause you're like—fuck, right there—like, totally a sex god and all, but—"

Logan's hands gripped Wade's thighs, spreading them wider, and Wade's words dissolved into a moan as Logan's mouth moved lower, his tongue teasing along the edge of Wade's suit before he finally, finally pulled the rest of it off, leaving Wade completely exposed. "Shut the fuck up, Bub," he growled.

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up, I'll—oh my God—okay, maybe I won't shut up, 'cause I really can't help it, but—fuck, you're so—"

Logan's mouth was on him, and Wade's mind went blank, his hands clutching at the cupholders as pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave. Every coherent thought was wiped away, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of Logan's touch, his lips, his teeth, every movement pushing Wade closer to the edge. 

Wade's rambling became incoherent, his voice rising in pitch as Logan continued, driving him crazy in the best possible way. His body tensed, every muscle coiled tight as the pleasure built and built until it was too much to handle.

"Logan, I—fuck, I'm gonna—"

Logan didn't let up, his hands and mouth working in perfect sync, and Wade couldn't hold back any longer. He came with a choked cry, his body shaking as the pleasure ripped through him, leaving him breathless and spent.

Logan didn't move away, his touch gentler now as he helped Wade ride out the aftershocks, his lips pressing soft kisses to Wade's heated skin. Wade lay there, panting, his heart racing as he tried to process what had just happened.

"Holy shit," Wade finally managed, his voice hoarse. "That was—wow. I mean, seriously, wow. You're like—you're like the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I know I'm not supposed to get all sappy and shit, but I think I'm in love with you."

Logan pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting Wade's with that same unreadable expression. For a moment, Wade thought he might have crossed a line, that maybe he'd said too much. But then Logan leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against Wade's lips.

"You talk too much," Logan muttered, but there was no bite in his words, just a hint of amusement.

Logan's eyes darkened as he looked down at Wade, his thumb continuing to trace the rough skin of the scars on Wade's neck. There was an intensity in his gaze, something raw and primal that made Wade's breath catch in his throat. Logan's hand slid down from Wade's neck, fingers trailing over his collarbone before resting on his chest, pressing him back into the seat with a firm, unyielding pressure. "My refractory time is practically close to nothing. I assume yours is the same?"

Logan smirked, and Wade's pulse quickened as he felt Logan's strength, the way he didn't hold back. He wasn't worried about hurting Wade. Wade wasn't worried about getting hurt. Actually, he was counting on it. Wade's mouth opened, a smart-ass comment ready to spill out, but Logan was faster. His free hand moved to Wade's face, his fingers slipping between Wade's lips, pressing down on his tongue.

"Quiet, Mouth," Logan growled, his voice low and commanding.

Wade's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't resist. Instead, he sucked on Logan's fingers, his eyes locked on Logan's, his breath coming in shallow pants as he waited to see what Logan would do next.

Logan's lips curled into a smirk, clearly pleased by Wade's compliance. He pulled his fingers out of Wade's mouth, replacing them almost immediately with a strip of fabric he tore from Wade's discarded suit. Logan pressed the makeshift gag into Wade's mouth, tying it securely behind his head. Wade's muffled protests were met with a sharp, almost playful look from Logan.

"Now," Logan said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down Wade's spine, "let's see if I can keep you quiet."

Wade's heart pounded in his chest as Logan's hands moved to his wrists, pinning them above his head with one hand while the other trailed down his body, teasing, exploring. Wade squirmed beneath him, the rough fabric of the gag between his teeth only adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

Logan's touch was deliberate, almost calculated, as he mapped out every inch of Wade's skin, lingering on the scars, the bruises, the places where Wade was most sensitive. Wade's muffled moans grew louder, more desperate, as Logan's hands roamed lower, skimming over his hips, his thighs, until finally, finally, he touched Wade where he wanted it most.

Wade arched off the seat, his body trembling with anticipation and need, but Logan didn't give him what he wanted right away. Instead, he took his time, exploring, teasing, driving Wade to the brink of madness with every slow, deliberate movement.

Logan's hand closed around Wade's cock, stroking him with a firm, unrelenting grip that had Wade seeing stars. Wade's moans grew more frantic, his hips bucking up into Logan's hand, desperate for more. But Logan was in no hurry. He kept his pace steady, controlled, keeping Wade right on the edge without letting him fall over.

Wade's muffled cries were almost frantic now, his body straining against Logan's hold, his need for release almost unbearable. But Logan wasn't done with him yet. With a wicked grin, Logan pulled his hand away, leaving Wade gasping and writhing in frustration.

Logan's hand moved to the knot behind Wade's head, and with one swift tug, the gag was gone. Wade gasped for air, his voice raw and desperate.

"Logan, please—" Wade started, but Logan silenced him with a kiss, hard and possessive, his teeth nipping at Wade's lips.

"You want something?" Logan growled against Wade's mouth, his voice laced with dark amusement.

"Yes—fuck, yes, I want—" Wade's words were cut off by another bruising kiss, Logan's hand wrapping around his throat, applying just enough pressure to make Wade's breath hitch.

Logan pulled back slightly, his eyes boring into Wade's. "Then beg for it."

Wade's heart skipped a beat at the command, his body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. He swallowed hard, his voice shaking as he did exactly as Logan demanded.

"Please, Logan," Wade whispered, his voice thick with need. "I need you—please, I'll do anything, just—"

Logan didn't let him finish. With a low growl, he flipped Wade over onto his stomach, pinning him down with one strong hand on the back of his neck while the other yanked Wade's hips up. Wade could feel the heat of Logan's body against him, the hard press of his cock through his pants, and it sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. "Fucking," Wade wheezed. "Coke bottle."

Logan let out a deep chuckle, and the strip of cloth was shoved back into his mouth. Wade groaned around the gag, the sound coming out muffled and desperate as Logan's fingers slid between his legs, spreading him open. 

Logan's hands were relentless but controlled, his fingers tracing the curve of Wade's ass, the touch almost teasing. Wade's breath hitched as he felt Logan's fingertips slide between his cheeks, spreading him open with a deliberate slowness that made his heart pound even harder. Logan was taking his time, making sure Wade felt every single movement, every brush of his skin against the most sensitive parts of him.

Wade's hips twitched involuntarily as Logan's fingers found his entrance, circling it with a maddening gentleness that had Wade trembling, trying to push back, desperate for more. But Logan's grip on his neck kept him firmly in place, a silent reminder of who was in control.

Logan leaned in closer, his breath hot against Wade's ear as he murmured, "You're gonna take everything I give you, Bub. Understand?"

Wade could only nod, his response a muffled whimper around the gag, his body straining against the pressure of Logan's hand on his neck. Logan's fingers continued their slow, torturous exploration, one finger pressing just inside, barely enough to satisfy, but more than enough to make Wade's head spin.

"Relax," Logan growled softly, his voice rough and commanding. Wade tried to do as he was told, letting out a shaky breath through his nose, his muscles loosening as Logan's finger pushed in deeper. The burn was sharp but not unpleasant, and the feeling of Logan stretching him open made Wade's pulse race even faster.

Logan's free hand slid down Wade's back, his touch firm and grounding, as if reminding Wade that he was there, that he was in control. Wade bit down on the gag, his breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts as Logan added a second finger, the stretch more intense, pushing Wade's limits just enough to keep him on edge.

"That's it," Logan muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he felt Wade relax further, his body submitting to Logan's touch. Logan scissored his fingers inside Wade, stretching him wider, his movements calculated and precise, making sure Wade was ready for what was coming next.Wade's muffled moans filled the room, the sensation of Logan's fingers inside him sending shivers up his spine, his body twitching with every twist and curl of Logan's fingers. Logan's thumb pressed against the base of Wade's spine, applying just enough pressure to make him arch his back, giving Logan better access as he added a third finger, the stretch almost overwhelming.

Wade's eyes squeezed shut, his fingers clawing at the sheets as Logan continued to work him open, his breath hitching with every movement. Logan's pace was unhurried, almost leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world to draw this out, to push Wade to the brink and then pull him back, just to start all over again.

Wade's mind was a blur of sensation, the pleasure mingling with a sweet ache that had him trembling, his body caught in that perfect balance between pain and ecstasy. He could feel Logan's cock hard and heavy against his thigh, a constant reminder of what was coming, but Logan didn't rush. He kept Wade on edge, his fingers twisting and thrusting inside him with deliberate precision, making sure Wade was thoroughly prepared.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Logan's fingers slid out of Wade, leaving him feeling empty and desperate for more. Wade let out a muffled whine, his body trembling with need, but Logan's hand on his neck kept him grounded, kept him from falling apart completely.

Logan reached down to undo his pants, the sound of the zipper loud in the otherwise quiet car, and Wade's breath hitched in anticipation. He could feel Logan's cock brushing against him, thick and hot, and his body tensed with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Logan leaned down, his lips brushing against Wade's ear as he growled, "You ready for me, Bub?"

Wade nodded frantically, his voice muffled by the gag, but his body spoke for him, his hips pushing back against Logan's in a silent plea.

Logan's hand tightened on Wade's neck, his other hand guiding himself to Wade's entrance, and with a low growl, he pushed in slowly, the head of his cock stretching Wade even further. Wade's breath caught in his throat, his body straining against the intrusion, but Logan didn't stop, pushing in inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt, his cock filling Wade completely.

Wade's muffled cries mixed with the sound of their bodies coming together, the sensation overwhelming, but Logan gave him no time to adjust, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in with a force that knocked the air out of Wade's lungs.

Logan set a brutal pace, each thrust deep and powerful, his grip on Wade's neck keeping him pinned in place, completely at Logan's mercy. Wade's body rocked with the force of Logan's thrusts, his muffled moans growing louder, more desperate, as Logan took him apart piece by piece.

Logan's hand moved from Wade's neck to his hips, pulling him back onto his cock with every thrust, pushing him deeper into the seat. Wade's world narrowed down to the sensation of Logan inside him, the sound of flesh against flesh filling  car. Wade could feel the pressure building inside him, the pleasure coiling tight in his belly, ready to snap. Logan's hand moved to Wade's cock, gripping it tightly and stroking in time with his thrusts, pushing Wade even closer to the edge.

Wade's moans grew louder, more desperate, his body trembling as he teetered on the brink. Logan's thrusts became almost punishing, each one driving Wade closer and closer until he couldn't hold back any longer. With a muffled scream, Wade came hard, his body convulsing as the pleasure ripped through him like a tidal wave.

Logan wasn't far behind, his grip on Wade tightening as he thrust deep one last time, his body shuddering as he found his own release. Wade could feel the hot rush of it inside him, Logan's body pressing him down into the seat as they both rode out the aftershocks.

For a moment, the only sound in the car was their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Logan slowly pulled out, his hands still on Wade's body, but gentler now, almost tender. He reached up and carefully removed the gag from Wade's mouth, tossing the fabric aside as he helped Wade roll onto his back. 

Wade's eyes were half-lidded, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Logan huffed as he leaned back, the confined space of the Honda Odyssey making it difficult to move, but he managed. He grumbled under his breath about the cramped quarters, shooting a half-hearted glare at the minivan's ceiling as if it were responsible for the whole situation. Wade just lay there, a dazed grin plastered on his face, completely content despite the sticky mess they'd made of the backseat.

"Well," Wade began, his voice raspy but still carrying that familiar Deadpool snark, "if I'd known you were going to be this romantic, I would have brought candles. Maybe some Barry White to set the mood. You know, really class up the joint."

Logan snorted, rolling his eyes as he reached for something in the front seat. He fumbled for a moment, his annoyance evident in the way he yanked at the fabric. Eventually, he pulled out an old flannel shirt, tossing it onto Wade's chest with little ceremony.

"Wipe yourself off," Logan muttered, the gruffness in his voice softened by a faint hint of concern as he watched Wade struggle to sit up.

Wade picked up the flannel and gave it an exaggerated sniff, wrinkling his nose dramatically. "Mmm, Eau de Wolvie. I think I'm gonna bottle this scent and sell it as 'Lust in the Woods.'" He dragged the shirt across his chest, making a show of cleaning himself off, though his movements were slower than usual, exhaustion tugging at the corners of his smile.

Logan didn't rise to the bait, instead, he reached out, his large hand surprisingly gentle as he took the flannel from Wade and continued cleaning him up, his touch efficient but careful. Wade watched him, his grin softening into something more genuine as he soaked in the moment. "You're gonna be sore tomorrow," Logan said, more as a statement than a question, his tone gruff as ever. He was careful, though, mindful of the tender spots as he worked.

"Pfft, sore's my middle name," Wade quipped, wincing only slightly as Logan's hand brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. "Well, that and Danger. And Maximum Effort. You know, because I'm multi-talented. Like a Swiss Army knife."

"You're a pain in the ass," Logan muttered, his voice low but lacking the usual edge.

"No I have a pain in the ass," Wade quipped back, opening his eyes to meet Logan's gaze, his smile full of mischief. "And don't think I didn't notice you keeping that shirt handy. Just in case we had a 'situation' in the backseat of this here luxurious, totally-not-a-mom-van."

Logan huffed, but the faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his mouth as he shifted in the seat, his hand moving from Wade's thigh to his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "You good?"

Wade nodded, his grin turning more genuine. "Yeah, I'm good. Better than good. Great, even. Might need to invest in some lumbar support for this bad boy, though," he added, patting the seat beneath them. "These backseats weren't exactly made for... this kind of activity."

Logan chuckled, the sound low and rough, and Wade couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at the sound. It was rare to get anything more than a grunt or a growl out of Logan, and hearing him actually laugh, even just a little, felt like a victory.

"Guess I'll have to upgrade next time," Logan said, his tone dry but laced with the slightest hint of amusement.

Wade's eyes widened, and he clapped a hand to his chest in mock surprise. "Did you just imply there's gonna be a next time? Oh, Peanut, you're making me blush. Here I thought I was just a one-night stand, a quick fling, a..."

Logan silenced him with a kiss, rough and a little awkward in the cramped space, but it was full of something that Wade didn't often get from the gruff mutant. Affection. Maybe even care. Wade melted into it, his usual banter forgotten as he returned the kiss, his hand coming up to tangle in Logan's hair.

When Logan finally pulled back, his eyes were soft, and for once, Wade didn't feel the need to fill the silence with words. He just smiled, his hand still resting on Logan's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his palm.

"Let's get out of this damn van," Logan muttered, though there was no real urgency in his voice as he pulled Wade closer for one last kiss before reaching for his shirt.

"Yeah, yeah," Wade replied, his voice light as he reluctantly sat up, the spell of the moment finally breaking as he fumbled for his clothes. "But just so you know, this is totally going in my memoir."

Logan watched as Wade fumbled with his clothes, his usual playful demeanor slipping back into place like a well-worn mask. But Logan wasn't about to let him brush off what had just happened between them. Not this time.

"Bub," Logan began, his voice firm but not unkind as he reached out to still Wade's hands. Wade froze, his eyes flicking up to meet Logan's, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his expression.

"Yeah, Wolvie?" Wade's voice was softer now, the usual snark tempered with something more vulnerable.

Logan held his gaze, his hand still resting on Wade's, grounding them both in the moment. "I meant what I said. There's gonna be a next time. And another time after that. I'm not playin' games here."

Wade blinked, his mouth opening as if to say something, but words seemed to escape him. 

"I'm not gonna be second to Vanessa," Logan continued, his voice gruff but steady. "I don't do half-assed relationships. If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. You and me. Monogamy. I'm not sharin' you with anyone, and I'm sure as hell not gonna be your backup plan."

"Marvel really picks and chooses what they want in their material, don't they?" Wade said, his voice slipping back into its usual sarcastic tone.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly not following. "What're you talkin' about?"

Wade waved his free hand dismissively. "Oh, nothing, honey pie. Just going on about how good of a wife I would be to you. You know, the whole 'stand by your mutant' thing. I could totally rock an apron. Maybe even get one of those cute little 'kiss the cook' hats. Or maybe we could get matching flannel pajamas—because, seriously, you've got like a thousand of those, and I think I could really make it work."

"Wade," Logan warned.

Wade put his hands up defensively, his usual playful sarcasm still dancing in his eyes. "Fine, fine, no more jokes about being your perfect little housewife. But wait—" Wade suddenly froze, his expression shifting as a thought seemed to strike him. "Is that what your problem was the entire time?"

Logan, who had just turned to slip into the front seat, paused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Wade," he replied, his tone gruff, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes as he settled into the driver's seat.

Wade gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest as if he'd just been struck by some grand revelation. "You scheming, bitch!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of mock outrage and disbelief. "You mean to tell me I could've been getting fucked this entire fanfiction if I'd just stopped beating the dead horse that I was still in love with Vanessa?"

Wade narrowed his eyes, his mind racing as he replayed every interaction they'd had up until this point. "Were you ever even gonna move out?" he accused.

Logan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached over and patted Wade's thigh, his touch firm and reassuring. "Get in your seat, bub," he said, his voice a mix of gruffness and something almost affectionate.

Wade stared at him for a moment, his mind whirling with a thousand thoughts and questions. But then, slowly, a grin spread across his face, and he couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

Wade slid into the passenger seat, finally buckling up as he let out a long breath. "You know, you could've just said something," he pointed out, though his tone was more teasing than anything else.

Logan shrugged, his eyes on the road ahead as he started the van. "You wouldn't have listened."

Wade thought about that for a moment and then nodded. "Fair point."

--------------------------

"So," Wade began, breaking the silence with his usual casual tone, "now that we've got that all figured out, does this mean we're officially a couple? Like, do I get to call you my boyfriend, or is that too high school for you? Maybe we should go with something more mature, like 'life partners.' Or we could just skip straight to 'husband'—really cut through all the red tape, you know?"

"Wade..."

"Okay, okay," Wade said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "No need to get all grumpy about it. But just so you know, I'm totally putting you down as my emergency contact from now on. And don't be surprised if you find a ring in your breakfast burrito one of these days."

"Wade."

"Fine, I'm shutting up now," he said, mock zipping his lips. He turned in his seat, watching as the trees zipped by the window. Was that a cum stain on the back one? Shit. He was pretty sure that Laura drove this car sometimes. Talk about trauma.

"Okay, but seriously," Wade piped up after a while, unable to resist, "if I start calling you 'honey bear,' you're not gonna claw me to death, right? Because I feel like it's a real missed opportunity if I don't."

Anddd those are Logan's claws in his thigh.

----------------------------------------------------------

Life didn't exactly get easier when Logan and Wade made it official. 

Better? Sure.

Sexier? Oh abso-fucking-lutely.

But easier...well, the jury was still out for that. 

They still fought like cats and dogs, but now, instead of ending up in separate corners licking their wounds, they usually ended up tangled together, panting and sweaty, in whatever corner they'd been trying to kill each other in. It was an arrangement that worked for them—at least, it worked for Logan. Wade was more than happy with the new dynamic, often goading Logan into a fight just to see where it would lead.

Then there was the jealousy. He had always thought of Logan the jealous type, but he hadn't really been prepared for just how much of a green-eyed monster he could be when it came to Wade. Hubba hubba indeed. Every time Wade so much as smiled at someone else, Logan's claws itched to make an appearance.  And the best part? Wade knew. Oh, did he ever know, and he reveled in it. He'd flirt outrageously with anyone within a ten-foot radius just to see Logan's eyes narrow and his jaw tighten, only to turn around and smirk at him with that infuriatingly charming grin.

And who knows? 

Maybe one day he really would marry the bastard. He'd even caught himself considering ring sizes—though he'd never admit that out loud.

Because Dearest Reader, Wade Wilson was happy.

Really, truly, fucking happy together. 

-------------------------------------------

It was Thanksgiving—a holiday Wade usually didn't give a flying fuck about, but this year was different. Logan had grudgingly agreed to a small get-together at their apartment with X-Force, Vanessa and Craig, as well as Laura. Oh, and Wade had somehow convinced Logan that showing up in matching flannel shirts was a great idea. 

"I'm not doing this," Logan muttered under his breath for what had to be the tenth time that morning as he tugged at the collar of his shirt.

"Too late, babygirl ," Wade said cheerfully, slinging an arm around Logan's shoulders. "You agreed, and now we're gonna show up like the power couple we are. Besides, you look hot in flannel."

Logan grunted in response, his usual expression of grumpiness even more pronounced. If Logan wasn't so hellbent on keeping things under wraps, maybe Wade wouldn't have to go to such lengths dammit.

The apartment was surprisingly cozy, given the rough-and-tumble lives of its occupants. Logan had even managed to scrounge up some decorations—mostly at Wade's insistence. The table was set, and the smell of food filled the air, though Logan had refused to let Wade anywhere near the kitchen after a disastrous attempt at making cranberry sauce the night before. Most of it ended up in places that Wade didn't really want to talk about actually, can we move on?

As their guests began to arrive, Wade's excitement was palpable. He greeted everyone with his usual over-the-top enthusiasm, making sure to point out the matching flannel to anyone who would listen. Vanessa and Craig were the first to arrive, followed by Domino and the rest of X-Force, and finally, Laura, who rolled her eyes at Wade's antics but seemed genuinely happy to be there.

As the meal went on, it became clear that Wade was more interested in Logan than the food. He kept finding excuses to touch Logan, whether it was a hand on his thigh, a squeeze of his bicep, or a quick brush of his fingers against Logan's neck. Each touch was accompanied by a lewd comment, whispered just loud enough for Logan to hear.

"Mmm, Wolvie, you've been working out," Wade murmured as he ran a hand up Logan's thigh, his voice low and sultry. "Those biceps are looking extra delicious tonight. Think I could get a second helping later?"

Logan shot him a warning look, but Wade just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Logan's ear as he continued. "You know, this flannel really brings out your eyes. But I think it'd look even better crumpled up on the floor with you on top of me."

Logan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on his plate and ignore the heat pooling in his gut. He knew Wade was doing this on purpose, trying to get a rise out of him, but damn if it wasn't working.

Wade's hand slid up to Logan's chest, fingers tracing the muscles beneath the fabric. "I'm just saying, you could chop more than wood in this getup. Maybe later, you can give me a demonstration. I've got a few logs that need splitting."

Logan growled low in his throat, grabbing Wade's hand and squeezing it tightly. "Knock it off, Bub."

Wade shivered. "Oh, baby. Count me in as down and horny."

Logan's lips rose in a snarl.

Across the table, Vanessa raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension. "Everything okay over there?" she asked, her tone light but curious.

"Peachy!" Wade replied with a grin. "Just telling Logan how thankful I am for him. And everyone here."

Dopindor gave him a flat look, pushing the gravy boat toward NTW who glared viciously at him.

"Later, I'm gonna show him just how thankful I am," he said cheerfully. "And I'll give him a few things to be thankful for too. I promise." He purred in Logan's direction, and then clapped his hand down onto Logan's half hard dick.

Colossus choked on his turkey.

"I will tear you apart limb by limb, you absolute imbecile," Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous. 

Wade blinked, his eyes wide with faux innocence. "Oh, Peanut, you sweet talker. You know I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Before Logan could respond, Wade abruptly stood up, raising his glass in a dramatic toast. "Alright, folks, I've held my tongue long enough. It's time for some honesty. The truth is, Wolvie and I have been getting it on. Yep, regular old bone sessions. You twisted my arm, so there it is! Peanut and I are fucking on the regular!"

The room fell silent, all eyes on Wade as the weight of his words sank in. Vanessa nearly choked on her drink, and Craig's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Dopindor looked like he was trying to decide whether to laugh or facepalm, and Laura's expression was a mix of shock and horror.

"What?!" Laura finally shrieked, her voice echoing through the room. She looked from Wade to Logan, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You're... what?"

Snikt

----------------------

Christmas. Maybe he'll propose on Christmas.

[lottiembae]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔; shauna shipman x fem!reader

Summary: shauna shipman sees y/n differently after that night.

Warnings: fluff, smut, slow burn.

Note: English is not my first language.

"Why are you ginger?!" Some of them exclaimed at the unison.

Shauna rolls her eyes, blushing a little. "I lost a bet." She just said, letting her suitcase on the floor.

Jackie bit her smile, knowing the reason, after all it was a bet between them. The blonde crossed her arms and sat down, the salt on her hair wavering her locks. Shauna glares at her, giving her a sarcastic look.

"Okay. You can change upstairs, you staying with Y/N. Right corner, second door." Lottie informed her, eyeing the pair of friends discreetly.

They all have an entire week in Charlotte's beach house in Lake Key, a big house for all of them. A paradise they can enjoy.

Shauna hummed, scanning the living room and not seeing the mentioned one there, assuming she is upstairs or out in the pool with the rest. She is grateful to have Y/N like a roomie, she is the most tidy of all their friends. The -now- ginger girl changed into a bikini, grabbing her sunscreen, book and going downstairs.

The heat hit her body when she walked in the back garden, her friends having fun in the pool or laying on the grass chatting. Shauna laid a towel next to Taissa in the grass, depositing her things there and throwing herself in the pool, purposely doing it and smirking when they gasp and call her name.

"Shauna!" Y/N exclaimed happily, swimming towards her. "You look beautiful." She innocently said.

If this compliment came from one of her other friends, she would probably show her middle finger. But it's Y/N, the unique innocence of the group, Laura Lee left behind that adjective a long time ago.

"Thanks." Shauna muttered, clearing her throat and reciprocating the hug.

Y/N giggles, separating from the embrace but remaining close. "How's college?"

"Good! Stressing but really good. How about you? I heard you struggled at first." Shauna asks, rubbing the drops from her eyes.

"Yeah... Van went there a few days. I know, I'm like a child. But I spent years seeing your faces and then I didn't." Y/N explained, shrugging.

Shauna gives her a lipped smile. She struggled the first weeks too, used to see them, hang out and play soccer. "I don't think so. I understand what you mean." She shrugs too.

A splash interrupted their conversation, moving their faces to the side avoiding the water hit their faces. Another trail of curses from the ones sunbathing were heard, Natalie and Van ignored them with big smirks on their faces.

"Y/N, Jackie wanted you to go with her." Van commented.

Shauna saw how Y/N bit her lip but nod nonetheless, waving at them and walking out from the pool.

"Poor Y/N. Jackie is trying to corrupt her." Natalie hummed at Shauna, her eyes focused on the mentioned.

"Why?" Shauna asks, following her gaze. Jackie held Y/N's hand and went into the house, Lottie following behind.

"She said 'Y/N needs to wake up and have fun'." Van replied, imitating Jackie's voice. "Usually Lottie keeps an eye on Jackie, just in case." The redhead explains.

Shauna rolls her eyes, so typical of Jackie. However she could understand why, the blonde doesn't want people to mess with Y/N and maybe she has in mind this summer to make her less innocent.

The rest of the day Shauna inverted to catch time with her friends and finish the book she was reading this past day. When Jackie and Y/N returned, the first one had a mischievous smirk on her lips, a pallid Y/N travelled behind with Lottie wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Where were you guys?" Taissa is the first to ask.

"Discovering the world." Jackie mysteriously said, sitting in a chair and quitting her big black t-shirt, showing her soft orange bikini.

They all frowned by her answer. "I'm afraid to ask... But what did you do to her?" Natalie asks, throwing the uno cards on the towel, piercing her blue eyes on Jackie Taylor.

"Show them." Jackie says at Y/N, smiling reassuringly at her. "It was part of the bet." She shrugs her shoulders.

Lottie put herself in front of Y/N, clearly seeing the struggles on her face and deciding to put a stop. "Enough Jackie. She did it, let her be comfortable."

Shauna squinted her eyes when heard Jackie said bet. Internally she rolled her eyes, what have Jackie with bets? And why does her opponent always lose?

Y/N gave Lottie a grateful look and went to sit down away from Jackie, it needed to be something big when Y/N did it. Van muttered something and stepped towards Y/N, bringing a chair with themselves and sitting next to her. Shauna kept an eye on them while Natalie and Taissa tried to worm out what she did to her.

"It's sexy." Jackie was the only thing she said before walking in again, muttering something about starting to fix up to party up.

Taissa ran after her, the group dissolving slowly to follow Jackie's steps. Shauna waited for Y/N and Van to join her when she stood up and they walked towards her direction.

The three walked in and Van disappeared to the left once they were upstairs, making Y/N and Shauna snort when they commented something about waiting an hour for Taissa to be ready.

"It's a good thing that we have our own bathroom in our bedrooms." Shauna commented, opening the door to their shared bedroom. Y/N hummed behind her, her brown eyes catches her red eyes and the dry cheeks. "Do you want to go shower first?" She offers, letting her things on her bed next to the window.

"No, you can go first. I'm going to see what I can wear." Y/N gave her a smile, going to the closet and opening it.

Shauna muttered okay and grabbed some comfortable clothes, disappearing in the fancy bathroom. She doesn't get too late there, putting her clothes on quickly and brushing her hair while coming back to the bedroom.

"All yours." She said at Y/N, seeing her sitting on her bed and watching outside hugging her knees.

"Those jeans stand out your ass." Y/N giggling said when Shauna gave her back at her. Shauna blushed, letting her brush on her bed. "Shit, it made you feel uncomfortable? I don't say it it's like a bad thing." Y/N rants out, standing up and explaining with her hands.

The compliment deepens her blush, the burn on cheeks worsen it. "It's okay, Y/N. You should shower up, I don't want to hear Natalie bark out later." She avoided it, chuckling nervously by her own comment.

Y/N nods, grabbing her clothes and going in. While Shauna waits for Y/N, she decides to put her clothes in her part of the closet. She was the last to approach there, the others coming two days earlier. She finished and Y/N didn't come out, she is really taking so long.

"I'm ready! Sorry to take so long." Y/N opened the door and came out with a summer yellow and white dress, her burn cheeks framing her beauty. She let out a giggle while putting her earrings when saw Shauna looking at her with her jaw dropped, her brown eyes looking her up and down. "I'm that bad?" She briefly pouts, looking at her dress.

Shauna shakes her head, clearing her throat. "N-No!" She stammered, closing her eyes momentarily. "You look beautiful, Y/N! I just..." Shauna thinks hard for something else to say, her blush intensifying. "You look great." She said poorly, biting her lower lip cursing herself in her mind.

Y/N let out a grin, happily to hear her friend compliment her. "I'm grabbing my purse and we can go down." She let her brush on her bed, just like Shauna and do what she said.

When they approached the living room, some whistling from their friends were heard. "Damn, Y/N! You look hot." Natalie says lowly, eyeing Y/N.

Laura Lee let out a chuckle and pinched Y/N's cheeks. "Stop, Nat! She is blushing." The blonde kindly says, rubbing her hand up and down on her back. "But she is right." She whispered in her ear, however Shauna heard her, making her jaw clenched.

"Thank you girls." Y/N shyly said, side hugging Laura Lee and later Natalie, intertwining her arm with hers.

"Woah! You worked on that ass." Van shocked said, stepping next to her and their jaw dropped when her blue eyes met Y/N's figure. "I died and I went to heaven?"

Shauna shakes her head with a small smile while the others laugh. Their laughter intensified when someone else cleared her throat behind them, a smug Taissa was there with her arms crossed about her chest, raising an eyebrow.

"And you come back to actually die." Natalie smugly said. Van rolled their eyes, glaring at her. The dyed blonde put her hands in the air, but her smirk remains.

"Look at her." Van leaned on Taissa and whispered, signaling with their head towards Y/N.

Taissa rolled her eyes and stepped down, going to the kitchen winking at Y/N when passed by her side, Y/N gave her a sheepish smile and Van trailed behind her.

"Damn, girl!" A raspy voice said behind Shauna, smacking her ass.

"Jackie!" Shauna hissed. However Jackie chuckles to stop abruptly when step next to her, her doe eyes focusing on Y/N.

Lottie passed them and winked at Y/N, making a gesture with her hands at her. "We are going out now!" She hummed, going to the front door.

Natalie made a signal with her hands, stopping them. "We need to check on her all night. I'm not letting any dude rub her up."

"Who?" Y/N asks, confused.

They all looked at each other.

•••

"My head hurts..." Jackie muttered when she got downstairs, sitting in the bar stool next to Shauna and leaning her head on her shoulder, a brief pout on her face.

Shauna snorted, but that simple sound made her flinch, Jackie too. Last night all of them had fun, well, not all of them, they made a bet (yes, other) and Laura Lee lost, meaning that she needed to take care of them (Y/N).

"Be quiet, Shauna." Jackie groaned.

Taissa sat down with a water bottle next to the pair, Van offering to make the lunch that day, since surprisingly they barely drank last night. Lottie offered to help the redhead, but Van pushed her next to Taissa and declined her offer with a gentle smile, making the three people sitting there release a relief breath.

"Where are the others?" Jackie raised her head on Shauna's shoulder, her eyes half open looking at Lottie and Taissa.

Taissa shrugged. "I just came down."

"Nat is asleep. Laura Lee and Y/N are in the pool." Lottie informed them in a low voice, leaning her head in her hand tiredly.

Jackie hummed just in time when Y/N came inside giggling with Laura Lee flying behind her with a grin.

"That smells good, Van. Do you need some help?" Y/N kindly asks, giving a smile to her friends there. Jackie called her with her hands, once Y/N approached Jackie and sat her down on her lap.

"Actually, yes please. Can you cut the vegetables?" The redhead requested her.

Y/N agreed, fighting with Jackie to release her. "Jackie! I need help Van." She said giggling.

"A kiss and I leave you." The blonde demanded, making Shauna roll her eyes.

Y/N didn't think about it too much, kissing her cheek a few times. Jackie unwrapped both arms from her body content when Y/N did what she asked.

Laura Lee sat down next to Lottie, massaging her shoulders with a smile. Shauna gazes at them, curious. Lately, she noticed how those two spent more time together, maybe the fact that they are going to the same college has something to do with it. It's not like Lottie and Laura didn't get along in the past, the brunette spent an amount of time defending Laura Lee from bullies.

Shauna decided to help too, letting a whining Jackie sit alone. She put on the cutlery and offered to wake up Natalie when the food was ready. The lunch passed without too much energy from half of them, the only conversation heard was between Laura Lee, Van and Y/N. Once they are done, Lottie shoves them out and cleans the dirty dishes, but a stubborn Natalie stays and helps her.

"You two put sunscreen on!" Jackie threw at Shauna and Y/N two bottles of it. "I don't want you two to get serious damage for not taking care of your skin." The blonde sternly said.

Shauna opened an eye and saw her stern look on her. She doesn't bother Y/N doing it, because she knows that Y/N is putting sunscreen. She rolled her eyes and opened the top, putting some cream on her burned cheeks.

"Don't forget the rest of your body." Jackie sarcastically said with a smile before she lay down on her towel, next to Shauna.

Y/N gave her a funny look, holding her laugh. Shauna pokes her tongue out, throwing the sunscreen at her when she finishes.

"Jackie! Shauna threw the sunscreen at me." Y/N childish said, laughing when Shauna gave her an offended look.

Jackie gazed at Shauna with a suspicious look, but holding a laugh for Y/N's behaviour.

"I thought she wanted it." Shauna made an excuse, biting her lip. She shrugs her shoulders, waiting for Jackie to look away and give Y/N a warning look, standing up and running after her. She caught her quickly, Y/N was still laughing between her arms. "You regret it." She muttered, throwing Y/N into the pool with a smirk.

A scream fell from her mouth but she was cut when Shauna threw her in the pool. "Shauna!" She exclaimed, wiping her eyes. Shauna has an amused smirk painted on her lips.

"What happened?" Van came, a hawaiian shirt on.

"Van! she threw me here because she can't be an adult." Y/N pointed with a finger at Shauna.

The brunette gasped. "Me!? What about you? You can't be an adult." Shauna exclaimed indignantly, looking at Van, who has an amused smirk on their face, annoying Shauna more.

Van bit their lip and wink to Y/N. Shauna saw it and gasped offended. The redhead pushes her once she stays looking at Y/N. "Sorry, Shauna. I tripped." They feigned regret, but their blue eyes lit with mischief.

"Van." Shauna hissed, scowling next to Y/N, who is laughing by her side.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her shoulder and hugged her. However Shauna nudged her rib, but she missed and nudged her boob, making Y/N let out a pain sound.

"Are you okay?" Shauna gazes at her with worry, seeing the pain on her face. "I don't want to hit that zone..."

"I'm fine." Y/N breath out, putting a hand on her chest.

Shauna notices something when her eyes fall to her chest unconsciously. "Do you have a piercing?" She asks incredulously. All of the people who can wear it, Y/N is not one of them.

Y/N blushed and looked briefly at Van. This one wears a worried expression, not hearing Shauna question. "Yes... I did yesterday."

The ginger opened her eyes and mouth. An idea popping in her mind. "Wait... That's why you all disappeared?" Y/N nodded, still with a hand on her chest.

"I'm going inside." Y/N whispered, going out of the pool and after wrapping a towel around her, she got inside. Shauna felt a little bad, even if she didn't want to give that hit intentionally.

Van patted her back and muttered a reassuring word. When minutes passed and Y/N didn't come out, Shauna decided to check on her. She walked towards their shared bedroom, finding it empty but the bathroom's door closed. She knocked a few times and called her name.

"You can come in." Y/N said.

Shauna opened the door and stopped on her tracks when saw Y/N topless, a red shadow covering her cheeks. "Is it okay?" She asks in a low voice, avoiding her naked chest.

"I think so. It has a red mark but nothing serious." Y/N explained.

Her brown eyes fell to her chest, a metal piercing on her left boob. It seems a little inflamed around the nipple, but that's all. She saw how Y/N put on some cream there.

"It hurt you?" Shauna whispered.

Y/N raised her head and saw a sad expression on her face, her half wet ginger hair covering part of her cheeks, her brown eyes showing more of the colour.

"Don't worry, Shawn. I'm fine." Y/N reassuringly said, giving a smile.

Shauna rolled her eyes. "Don't call me that." She said in a hushed tone. She hates that they call her with that name. She removed her hair from her vision and walked out, sitting on her bed and waited for Y/N to finish.

Y/N came out and sat down on her bed, now with her purple bikini on. Shauna gazes at her, every gesture silently. She wanted to ask some questions, but she doesn't want to overstep. The other raised her eyes to her and watched her expression, standing up and stepping towards her.

"Don't think about it. Let's go out." She grabs her hand and pulls her up. Shauna gave her a lipped smile, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"It's kinda hot." She murmurs, suppressing a laugh when Y/N turns to look at her with raised eyebrows. "I'm surprised you did it. You can use it against Nat when she tells you you need to loosen up." She said joking.

"I will keep it in mind." Y/N said with a thinking face.

•••

That evening they decided to go sightseeing in the small town. Shauna and Jackie split up from their friends and went by their count, sharing the last news on their lives since they are going to different colleges.

Shauna licks her chocolate ice cream, walking by the promenade. Jackie ranting by her side eating her vanilla ice cream.

"That's Y/N?" Jackie interrupted, her eyes focusing in the distance. Shauna followed her eyes and saw not far away Y/N sitting in a bench with Taissa braiding her hair.

They walked towards the pair, waving to an enthusiastic Y/N waving at them. Jackie grabbed her chin and pecked her cheek, offering her ice cream at her.

"No, thank you."

Shauna sat down next to her, Jackie sat down on her lap. She is not bothered by it, actually she is used to this gesture. She remembers when Y/N told her about the bet before and leaned on her ear, muttering something about the piercing. Jackie looks at her with that innocent doe eyes, shrugging.

Y/N has a few strands of hair braided, thanks to Taissa. Shauna's glued on Y/N's profile while the other three started a conversation, she decided to listen to them. This time, Y/N had her cheeks burned from the other day, thanks to Jackie it kept at bay. Her grin warming her chest with every reply Y/N made, always with illusion or loving explaining something at them that they don't know. It doesn't matter how dumb the question is, Y/N never would reply with a bad word.

"Nat and Van went to that pub." Taissa informed them once she finished braid Y/N's hair.

"I want to go to Marco's library." Y/N says, standing up and walking towards the place without receiving a reply from them.

Shauna muttered at them that she goes with Y/N, wanting some new books too. Jackie nodded more relaxed this time. It's funny, the only one challenging Y/N to wake up and she is the first worried about her going alone. The ginger steps quickly to Y/N side, throwing the napkin in the trash.

They walked in, Y/N walking mindlessly through the shelves of books until she reached her destination, romantic novels. Shauna bit the inside of her cheek and wandered to the horror one, the smell of lavender mixed with cinnamon relaxing her.

When Shauna grabbed a book to read the inside cover, to the other side was Y/N with a few books on her hands, a brief frown on her eyebrows. She didn't know why that simple sight made Shauna's heartbeat accelerate. It's the contrast of the white dress with her sun kissed skin, eyes' colour accentuating, plump lips, long eyelashes, or her cute braids on her salt hair? She can't put a finger on it, but feeling attracted to Y/N, it definitely wasn't on her plans for that summer.

"Do you see something interesting?" Lottie startled her, giving a little jump on her spot.

"You scared me." Shauna muttered, glaring at her.

Lottie apologizes, a smirk on her lips. The tall brunette wandered between the shelves, a few books in a hand. Shauna grabbed the book she wanted to read from the past month and followed Lottie, who now is with Y/N.

"I don't know, Lot. I want this, but maybe I could buy it next time." Y/N said, letting saying book again on their place.

She walked to the cash register, Shauna bit her lip and quit off from Lottie's hands the book Y/N left behind a few moments.

"Are you sure?" Lottie asked behind her. However Shauna ignored her and positioned herself behind Y/N to pay.

Once their visit to Lake Key was over, they decided to make dinner and stay there to party, gathering in the living room in a circle. Natalie prepared them their drinks, slowly sipping on it while they chatted.

Until Jackie cleared her throat. "Guys! I want to play a game. What about a simple one, truth or dare?" She proposed, giving a big sip from her ron with coke.

After bickering for a while, they agreed.

"Okay. You go first." Natalie points with her finger at Jackie.

The blonde shrugs, agreeing with it. She chose dare, and Natalie made her swim naked in the pool. Jackie accepted and quit off her clothes while walking outside, their friends laughing with her.

"Alright! I did it, it's my turn to choose." Jackie says with a towel around her body and sitting on the floor. A smirk on her face. "I chose Y/N."

And it made sense for all of them, -less Y/N- why Jackie wanted to play it.

"It's simple. Go to my bedroom and on top of my bed you find what you need to do." Jackie indicated when Y/N chose dare.

Shauna gave her a questioning look, but Jackie ignored her with the same smirk plastered the whole time. They waited a few minutes there waiting for Y/N to come back, chatting animatedly.

Y/N came back, however she changed her clothes. Now she is wearing a red bikini, but a short cover of the full piece. Her demeanor turned shy, chewing her lip nervously.

"Show us!" Jackie exclaimed, clapping with her hands excited.

The silence made in the room once Y/N took off her shorts, turning on heels to them to appreciate the small piece of clothes. Shauna opened her mouth, her pupils dilating from the sight in front of her. She gave a big sip from her drink when felt her mouth dry, the first to speak was Jackie.

"Nice ass, girl!" She cheered her.

Natalie licked her lips, still processing how hot her friend looks. She looked around her, their faces one by one and less Jackie, all of them seemed affected by it.

"That's a dare?" Natalie muttered, trying to play cool.

Jackie glares at her, crossing her arms. "Yes. For Y/N is a good dare, shut up."

"I agree." Van lowly said, their blue eyes dilated and their freckles hiding by a shadow of pink on their cheeks.

"Wait... Is that a piercing?" Taissa frowned, noticing it when her eyes landed on Y/N's chest.

Shauna moves a little uncomfortable, their reactions were immediate, well from the three ones who don't know. Inevitably her eyes fell on Y/N's ass, the heat sprayed inside her body. She made a messy bun, hearing their friends reactions.

"Van knew it." Taissa spoke again, noticing the lack of participation on this.

The redhead guilty shrugged. "I did. She told me the other day."

Y/N put on her shorts again and sat down where she was before, between Lottie and Laura Lee.

The game ended quickly, moving to dance on the improvised dance floor in the living room or the back garden. Usually Shauna hates something related to parties, but these moments, where are her and her friends, she treasures them. Lottie and Laura Lee were talking on the couch, next to a Natalie affected by Y/N revelation, who was happily dancing with her. Shauna drinks in a bar stool while Jackie is making some snacks for them. Van and Taissa chat quietly in a corner with silly smiles on their faces.

Two hours later, Shauna flies behind a giggling Y/N to their shared room. They are the first ones to call it a night, Shauna feels a little relaxed but with her senses intact, while Y/N looks more intoxicated than her.

Once in their respective bed, Shauna hears how her friend can't stop moving. "What's the problem?" She rasped out, her eyes looking in her direction in vain, the darkness didn't let her see properly.

"It sting a little..." Y/N slurred out.

Shauna frowned, but soon understood what she meant. "Then, quit it off." She suggested.

A few seconds later she heard something dropping on the floor followed by a relief sigh. Shauna turned her head, and even if she couldn't see her, she could appreciate her silhouette and it made her jaw clench. Why? Why can't she see her properly why is it turning her on? Maybe it is because she knew about the piercing and it excited her? Shauna groans, now her turn to move on her bed, finding the room very hot right now.

She didn't know when she left herself asleep, but when Shauna opened her eyes, the sun hit directly on her face, the dizziness on her head didn't help at all. She grunts, with her eyes half opened and walks towards the bathroom, noticing the empty bed on her way there.

Shauna takes a short shower, even if she probably would throw herself in the pool, however she didn't want to smell sweaty. She put on her black bikini and put on an old grey sporty shorts and went downstairs, no one was there.

She checked the back garden and there was Y/N, having some breakfast. The girl noticed her and waved, calling with her hand to go there.

"I made breakfast for all, but I'm guessing they would wake up after lunch. That is soon..." Y/N poured coffee in a cup and offered it at Shauna.

"Thanks..." She kindly says, taking it and sitting next to her. She notices the book she bought for her last day, remembering with a smile how Y/N kissed her face and muttering how much she loves her. "You like it?"

"I love it! Amanda is so brave. I wish I could be like her." Y/N commented, biting her toast and continued to read.

"You are brave." Shauna lowly said, sipping from the cup and looking at her.

Y/N gifted her with a warm smile, putting a hand on her forearm. "You are nice. But I'm not. You are brave or Van. But not me."

Shauna frowned, not liking how Y/N talked about herself. "I wish I could see people like you. Or believe everyone is good." She states, grabbing the hand on her forearm between her hands. "You are not afraid of telling them how you feel. I remember when you fought with Jackie in the last year of high school because she mocked Arnold Phillips and you defended him. I was thrilled and she did too." She saw how her cheeks darkened. Shauna appreciates the little messy braids, it even looks better now, she mindlessly puts away a strand of hair, a fond smile when Y/N shrinks because it feels ticklish when her fingertips brushed her neck.

Shauna can't stop looking at her, her hand placing now on her back and caressing it carefully. She leaned on the table, getting closer to her. Y/N brought a hand to her cheek and brushed her thumb there, actually she wiped something there.

"Better." Y/N murmurs, her eyes meeting her brown ones. Shauna swallowed and slowly leaned on her, stopping when their noses brushed with each other. It surprises her when Y/N grabs her face between her hands and kisses her.

It's short but gentle. Shauna chases her a second later, not containing herself and introducing her tongue on Y/N's mouth, exploring and dominating. Her hands were placed on her hips in a firm grip, leaning her head aside to kiss her better. Their lungs burned, making them separate to catch air.

Shauna trailed kisses on her jaw, sneaking a hand under the yellowjackets' shirt she is wearing, caressing her skin. She stopped when Y/N let out a moan, her gaze finding her face.

"Stop looking at me like that... Your stare is deep." Y/N murmurs, looking somewhere else, avoiding her gaze.

The ginger bit her lip, kissing her cheek and separating from her. Bringing her hand out of her shirt and deciding to finish her breakfast.

"You are beautiful, it's not my fault." Shauna replied confidently.

"Shauna!" Y/N whined, making her laugh.

A grunt from behind made them look that direction, seeing a zombie Natalie stepping slowly towards them. She greeted them quietly, pouring an orange juice in a cup and grabbing a croissant.

"You look horrible." Y/N commented, Shauna held her laugh when Natalie glared at her.

"Sorry, miss perfect. Next time I guard you, then I can avoid being the next day like this." She ironically said, signaling herself.

Shauna closed her eyes, the sun kissing her exposed skin and luring her. Natalie commented on them what happened after they left, laughing when Jackie fell or Van hit their face with the glass window.

"Sunscreen." Someone said, something fell on Shauna's lap. The ginger opened her eyes and looked at it and the person who threw it, Charlotte Matthews. "You are matching your hair by now."

Y/N snorted, hiding her mouth with a hand. Lottie wink at her, grabbing some fruit. Shauna poked her finger on her neck and saw how she shrank, giggling and putting away her hand.

They all agreed to spend the day at the beach, to Y/N and Nat's idea. They swim, sunbathing while they relax and play volleyball. Shauna's mind was a spiral, thinking about the kiss she shared with her friend, a friend she thought never saw like something else. The best part? Shauna wants to kiss her again, and wrap her arms around her waist to be nearer her, maybe her hands sneaking to her ass and squeezing it, her lips trailing wet kisses on her neck while Y/N let out moans, like before, then-... Who's that guy? And why is he smirking at her in a flirty manner?

Shauna clenched her fist and stood up, stepping fast towards them and pushing that guy away from Y/N.

"Stay away from her." Shauna scowled with a fierce gaze, putting herself in front of Y/N.

"Shauna! He is a nice boy, stop." Y/N threw the volleyball's ball and helped the blonde guy up.

It infuriated Shauna. "He wants to get on your pants, Y/N!" She gritted, her brown eyes throwing daggers at the innocent blonde boy.

Of course when they went to the beach and Y/N decided to wear what Jackie gifted her last night, some stupid guy should approach.

Fuck Jackie and fuck that guy.

Shauna saw how Y/N removed her gaze from her, her cheeks turning a soft shadow of pink. She felt bad to speak to her like that, usually she would use other words.

"I'm talking with her. That's all, relax." He said in a gentle tone, raising both hands in the air. However Shauna knew better, years being Jackie's best friend teach her experience with the opposite gender. And that guy, wants something else than talking with Y/N.

Shauna gave a sarcastic smile, but before she could give a sardonic comment, Natalie showed up, Lottie behind her with Jackie.

"What happened?" Natalie asks looking at her friends, then her blue eyes notice the blonde guy, making her frown. "Who are you?"

Jackie puts herself next to Shauna, crossing her arms on her chest, while Lottie grabs Y/N's hand, bringing her with hers.

"I'm Neil, nice to meet you." He said, waving with a nervous smile. Shauna snorted mentally, he didn't look like that before.

"Hi, Neil." Natalie said in a fake nice voice, walking towards the tall guy, with every step letting a mark of humid footprint on the sand. "Stay away from her." She patted his shoulder with a low laugh, signaling towards Y/N. "I know the guys like you. Out."

Neil bit his lip, his eyes falling on Y/N. Then, he gave a quiet laugh, his demeanor changing completely. "You all can't be protecting her forever." He muttered, a smug smirk playing on his lips before he turned on his heels and walked out.

Jackie held Natalie's wrist, the same with Shauna. "Stop! That stupid is gone." She murmurs, pushing them both to where they are.

Shauna's eyes fell on Y/N, who is with Lottie. She left behind the bickering that Jackie and Natalie started and grabbed her wrist kindly, stopping their friends.

"Can I talk to you?" Shauna timid asks. Y/N nods slowly, Lottie let them some privacy walking back to her place on the towel. The ginger took her to the seashore, this time her hand intertwined with Y/N's one, playing with her fingers. "I'm sorry to say that." She started, looking at her surroundings. "I don't like the way he was looking at you and... I should let you choose if you want to talk with him or not." She finishes, knowing very well that she will interfere if some dude tries something with her.

Y/N caressed the palm of her hand with her thumb. "Are you jealous?" She hummed, stepping closer.

Shauna frowned, her gaze now on her smug eyes. "No. I'm not. I only... I want the best for you. That's all." She said, shrugging her shoulders.

Why does Y/N think she is jealous? I mean, Natalie acted like her too, is she jealous too? Shauna let out a scoff for this thought.

"I'm jealous." Y/N admitted in a calm tone.

This confession made her feel more confused. "Why?" She can't hide her stupor.

"I saw a few boys looking at you. Your ass. They eat you with his eyes. I don't like it." Y/N explained, her turn to shrug her shoulders.

Shauna relaxed. She didn't notice their eyes on her, thankfully. But she notices the only one on Y/N, and maybe, just maybe, Shauna felt the same.

"You don't need to worry. I'm not interested in them." Shauna whispers, letting her hand out but embracing her waist with an arm and hiding her head on her neck. She feels how Y/N relaxed on her arms and wrapped hers on her neck, playing with her hair.

"I want to kiss you..." Y/N shyly said, a lipped smile on her face when Shauna fixed her chocolate eyes on her.

"I can make an excuse and go home and kiss." Shauna offered, hearing how Y/N let out a melodic laugh, inevitably painting an involuntary smile on her face.

•••

It's been three days since Shauna and Y/N kissed for the first time. Three days that they can't stop kissing. They shared this affection where they are alone in their room, away from their friends or when they are around them, when they aren't looking Y/N stole a kiss from her lips, letting Shauna speechless.

A sigh hit Shauna's face when she separated from her bruised and red lips. Her fingers caressed her cheek and removed a strand of hair from her face, giggling softly while memorizing her features for later fantasizing with her or rant on her journal about how Y/N makes her feel.

They are laying on Shauna's bed, the rays of the full moon hitting Y/N's face, it's time like this Shauna doesn't hate that window. Y/N's hand is playing with her ginger hair, pulling at it every time Shauna bit her lip or sucked her tongue.

"Are you fine there?" Shauna hummed with a hoarse voice, brushing her nose with hers. She can avoid hiding her smugness.

They don't trespass to the other step. It's not like Shauna didn't think about it, it's mainly for Y/N, she didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, so she happily accepts it.

"Here is hot..." She whispered, with a hand fan herself.

"The window is open." Shauna commented, looking briefly at the window.

"Shauna." Y/N calls her in a soft voice, the mentioned turned to look at her. "Do you feel attracted to me?" Shauna could appreciate how shy Y/N asked this.

"Y/N, I can't stop thinking about you. It's weird to say it loudly, but you are in my mind a lot." Shauna admitted, the burn on cheeks got a bay thanks to Jackie or Lottie to put sunscreen on. But she can feel the warmth on her cheeks just like if that same afternoon she burned all over again.

"You are in my mind too, Shippy. It's funny to think now how intimidated I felt about you in high school." Shauna frowned. Y/N saw her and immediately clarified. "You are hard to let people in, always attached to Jackie and I told you about it before, your gaze is so deep that I feared you could know what I'm thinking."

"That's why you nodded or gave me a short answer?" Shauna asks quietly, now understanding a few things. Y/N hummed an affirmative. "You are right, I don't let people know me easily. But I never would treat you or let anyone talk to you badly. I... We fought with some asshole to defend you. Don't ask and think about them, they are stupid." Shauna says quickly after her confession. "Why do you ask about me that...?" She tried to change the subject, also mostly for curiosity.

"I want to have sex with you." Shauna sometimes forgets how direct she is. Her blush deepens, gladly the dark hides her cheeks.

But it surprises her how natural she said it, and it made her think about it. "Have you had sex before?" She asks, it's the first time she actually thinks Y/N had sex before, she wondered about it but soon dismissed it.

Y/N nods, moving her head to a side. "Why you ask?" Shauna stares at her shocked, her mouth half open and holding her breath. Y/N roll her eyes, it didn't surprise her Shauna having that reaction, it's the same Van had when she told them. "I know that you all think I'm innocent, something I will not discuss... But I'm curious too."

"Sorry..." She apologised, breathing normally again. She blinked a few times, questions popping on her head. "Who? I mean, I know him?" She asks in a low voice.

"No, he is a college friend."

Shauna nods, laying fully by her side. She huffed, rubbing her eyes. "I need to ask it." She said, putting her hands down and fixing her eyes on her, seeing her curious eyes on her. "Did you do it because you wanted?"

"Yeah... I never would do something I don't want." This answer calmed Shauna, thankful Y/N didn't feel social pressure and did it for that.

"Can we go to sleep?" Shauna murmurs, feeling tired. Y/N hummed with a small smile, she kissed Shauna's cheek and proceeded to stand up, but the ginger stopped her, wrapping an arm now on her waist. "Stay here."

They fell asleep with Shauna hugging Y/N, many thoughts in her mind, dissipate when the other started to play with her hair, something Y/N likes and she didn't complain.

The next morning when they woke up and got downstairs, too quiet and finding a note in the fridge.

"We are at the beach, see you there. Jackie xx." Y/N read out loud. "And why didn't they wake up us? I would do it. You know what? I don't feel like going to the beach, if you want to go, have fun." She said in an adorable piss voice, in Shauna's opinion. She walked around and started to make breakfast.

"I like your idea. What do you want to do?" Shauna hummed, going to hug her from behind and kissing her shoulder.

Y/N looks up, thinking. "I want to go eat ice cream in Lake Key. Tomorrow we will get stuck here doing our suitcases and cleaning the house."

On Friday, they all would go to Wiskayok and finish the summer there before coming back to their respective colleges.

Shauna removed her hair aside, peppering kisses on her neck. "I like that." She just wants to spend some time alone with her before they come back.

So that's what they did. After finishing breakfast they changed their clothes and adventure to the small town. It's weird how freely they felt with every shared kiss without worry if someone saw them and judged. It helps that the only way is a solitary dirt road, nobody lives for that area, only the Matthews' family.

They let out their intertwined hands once they entered the town, exploring some places that they never went to before or just walking while laughing for anything. They agreed to eat the ice cream after lunch, for Shauna's luck because she made a little picnic, surprising Y/N.

It's the soft laugh that Y/N let out when Shauna awakened from her mind, too entrance on studying every feature, line and simple detail on Y/N's face that she zoned out. Shauna left the throwable plate on the grass, clearing her throat.

"Have a date with me." Shauna blurted out, mostly because she was rephrasing it in her mind and it slipped out. She blushes the moment she realizes how she asked this. Exchange Y/N raised her head and slowly formed a smile. "What I want to say is that... I thought about us, and I want to go on a proper date with you, if you want of course."

Y/N put her hand on top of hers. "I love to."

"Really?" Shauna asked, a little speechless. Y/N giggles by her reaction, nodding with her head. "You don't would regret it, I promise." She reassured her, carefully intertwining their fingers.

After they finished, Shauna stubbornly paid for their ice cream. They eat it while they walk towards the house, holding hands the moment they step out of the town. Laughs filled the way, ice cream kisses and rosy cheeks.

Shauna let her hand once they approached the fence, opening the doors and letting Y/N pass first. They come back and the house is still empty.

"I want to lay on the sofa, my feet hurt." Y/N commented, letting her bag on the coat stand and laying down in the black couch.

"Come here, I'll take you upstairs." Shauna offered, opening her arms for her to jump.

Y/N let out a delighted sound and jumped on her arms, wrapping her legs on her waist and both arms around her shoulders, leaning her head there too. Shauna held her and walked towards their bedroom, laying Y/N on her bed carefully and getting on top of her when Y/N grabbed her t-shirt and pulled Shauna towards hers.

With only a look, Shauna knew what Y/N wanted. She wants it too, if she is being honest, but what happens if their friends come and surprise them by doing it?

"Are you sure?" Shauna asks in a gentle whisper, her hair coming to her eyes and private to her to keep gazing Y/N, until this one removes with her fingers the strand of hair out. Her hands are too busy supporting her weight on the mattress.

"Very sure." Y/N whispered back, closing the distance and smashing her lips on hers.

Shauna let out a low moan, reciprocating it and soon turning in a hungry kiss. A hand sneaks under her baby blue shirt, slowly tracing her abdomen until reach her chest, squeezing with the bra on, feeling the piercing there. She grunted on the kiss when she felt it, breaking the kiss and taking off her shirt, delighted by the views.

Y/N pulls Shauna's shirt, making the ginger to raise her arms up, letting Y/N take it out. Her brown eyes admired how Y/N held her breath when her gaze met her abdomen, a smirk creeping on her face. A finger traced her stomach, gently scratching her abs.

"I think we have some weaknesses..." Shauna rasped out, chuckling.

"You kept playing soccer?"

Shauna nods. "Yeah. Casually my first friends played soccer and they created a team, like a hobby. I don't mind play there sometime." She explains.

Y/N's fingers get lost on her hair, pressing her head towards hers and starting another kiss. They slowly took out their clothes, Shauna's mouth went immediately on Y/N's chest, no resistance anymore and took her left nipple on her mouth, biting there and tasting the metal too, gaining a whimper by Y/N and her nails digging on her shoulders.

Shauna spent a long time there, when she got satisfied, admiring the new red marks and saliva covered on Y/N's chest, with her red lips peppered wet kisses until reach her mouth, giving her a languid kiss.

After they need to breathe again, Shauna takes advantage when Y/N still has her eyes closed and slowly sneaks her right hand between her thighs, soon meeting how wet Y/N is between her fingers. The ginger let out a groan, her dilated brown eyes catching sight of -now half open- Y/N's eyes and reddened cheeks. While they keep gazing at each other, her hand meets Y/N's entrance and without warning introducing a finger, grunting when she notices how tight she is.

Her nails digged on her shoulders once again, making Shauna let out a hiss of pain. A soft sound escaped from Y/N's mouth, once she felt comfortable with her finger inside of her, Shauna started to move it slowly while her thumb rubbed circles, creating more sounds slipping from her mouth, making Shauna drunk hearing them.

Another finger was introduced, her movements becoming faster and the first moans echoing in the room. Shauna involuntarily starts to move her hips in search of some friction, the wetness on her center increasing. The sweat on their bodies is more present, their hair stinging on their faces, framing their faces in a sexy form. With three fingers inside Y/N, her orgasm is near.

Shauna gave her a wet kiss, unable to control. Y/N came on her fingers, muffling her orgasm in her mouth. Their chest moved in sync, their lungs asking for air. The ginger took her hand out of her, the free one on top of Y/N's knee while slowly, her right one approaches her vision, the smell hitting her nose. After a few seconds where her eyes stuck looking at her hand, she took it to her mouth, a porn sound slipped from her mouth the moment her fingers met her tongue, testing Y/N. Her eyes rolled behind her head, her tongue wrapping her fingers and sucking slowly, testing every fluid.

When she opened them again, was met by hypnotised eyes gazing at her, biting her lip. Shauna let out a small smirk, putting down her now clean hand. Before she could make a comment, Y/N changed their positions, now Shauna is laying her back on the mattress and Y/N is straddling her. Shauna put both hands on her knees, caressing them, gazing at Y/N from a new angle. Her eyes fell from her marked chest to her half hidden shaved pussy, meeting her stomach side.

"Promise me something." Y/N said in a scratchy voice, calling her attention.

Shauna nods, captivated by her beauty. "Anything."

Y/N gave her a small grin, leaning her head to the same level as her, lowering it a few centimeters. "Don't dye your hair. I love how this colour looks on you... It matches your eyes, making them have a deeper look, if that is possible..." She ranted, admiring her ginger hair sprayed out on the pillow in soft waves. "You look good too with your natural colour hair, but this one... I really like it." She finishes in a low voice.

"I promise you that I will have it for a long time from now on." Shauna said with a cheeky smile, knowing very well that she would be stuck with that hair colour only for her. Then, she put a hand on her back neck and pushed her face towards hers, sealing the promise with a passionate kiss.

When Y/N moved her hips involuntarily, Shauna felt a patch of wetness on her abdomen, and groaning by this, she took both hands on her waist in a firm grip, probably letting some bruises there, and slowly pushed her a little, making friction on her sensitive spot.

"Can I...?" Y/N whispered, timid.

Shauna removed her hair from her face and nodded, after all she incite to do it. "You can ride my abs." She said in a deep voice, hearing the strong breathing falling from her lover's lips.

And she did it, up and down, at first with slow movements. It will become faster soon, Shauna is delighted by the sight in front of her. She clenched her abs when noticed Y/N was coming, with her head back and both hands on Shauna's sides. Y/N gave a final thrust, screaming for pleasure and falling on top of her, exhausted.

Shauna caressed her back tenderly, feeling a warm liquid fell on her stomach. She swallowed hard, she felt a little frustrated sexually talking. Shauna thought that watching Y/N had her pleasure, she didn't need it now, but... She is wrong. She let Y/N recover her breath, playing with her hair without the necessity to use words.

Y/N hummed contents, peppering kisses on her naked shoulder until her neck, biting gently there, gaining a low moan from Shauna. Her nails scratched Y/N's thigh, a loud hiss slipped from their mouths. Shauna observed when Y/N slowly started to go down, she paid attention to her chest, but not staying too much time there, preferring to bite her stomach a few times.

"I'm not shave..." Shauna said panting, a little embarrassed. Y/N raised her head frowning, seeing how Shauna closed her eyes, her cheeks turning more red.

"I don't care, Shippy." Y/N snorted innocent. It made Shauna open her eyes, seeing a brief frown on Y/N's eyebrows. "And I think if you shave now, you would cut yourself." She said looking down, the face she put on made Shauna relax and chuckle.

Y/N bit her lip and looked at Shauna, asking with her eyes. The ginger nods, her breathing stuck on her throat, but not keeping her eyes away from her. Y/N give her some wet mouthed kisses on her thigh, getting closer. Shauna opened her legs more to let Y/N put herself between knees, and her mouth immediately met her center, giving a long lick. Shauna let out a moan, biting her lip and scratching the pillow next to her. She can feel Y/N's nails on her thighs, her tongue getting deep inside her and recollecting the wetness she had from seeing Y/N cum two times.

A hand squeezed her chest, hard. If the moment doesn't require her to think, she would ask how in hell Y/N is doing it so well. Shauna is close, she is worked up and her orgasm is approaching, with hand on Y/N's head, pressing her face on the exact part where she wants and with the room filling her moans, Shauna released on her mouth with a guttural moan, her legs shaking.

With half open eyes and an irregular breathing, Shauna saw Y/N's chin covered by her cum, her hair mess and sweat covering her body. She raised half of her body and grabbed her face between her hands, kissing hard.

"SHAUNA, Y/N! ARE YOU TWO HERE?" Jackie interrupted them. They shared a panicked look and soon they started to put on their clothes. For their luck Jackie was downstairs, at least they could be dissimulate, only if the blonde didn't get upstairs and entered there, then they screwed up.

"Go to the bathroom!" Shauna said in a low voice, putting on her big shirt. "I'm going to distract her. Get down for around 5 minutes." She explains, putting her hair in a messy bun.

Y/N nods, disappearing on say place.

Shauna stepped down and saw her friends there, embarrassed she waved them with a hand. "Hey, Y/N is in the bathroom." She cleared her throat, avoiding Jackie's hazel eyes and going to the kitchen for water, because she really needed it.

Jackie hummed, following her. "We were worried. I thought you two would come."

"Y/N didn't like you don't wake us up and we went to the town." She explains, shrugging and giving her an apologetic lipped smile.

"I told you..." Van walked next to Jackie and sang, letting some things on top of the countertop.

"Y/N! ARE YOU MAD AT ME?" Another person would wait to ask this face to face, but it's Jackie and she went to the top of the staircase, looking up to an empty hall.

"NOT ANYMORE!" Another scream was heard, Shauna shaking her head with a smirk while sip from the cup.

"DO YOU WANT TO COME TO THE MOVIES WITH ME AND I COMPENSATE YOU?" Jackie asked hopefully, even if her told her that she wasn't mad at her.

Y/N approaches her vision, she took a shower and now has a lilac top belonging to Shauna with a black shorts, a small smile resting on her lips. "Okay. I missed our dates." She can't resist and hugs Jackie.

"She is so weak. We need to make her stronger." Van commented with a frown, looking at them.

Shauna snorted. "Which one?"

•••

Summer passed faster, and Shauna knew it.

With dreamy eyes and a silly smile, she recounted every date she had with Y/N these past two months, her favourite one was when she asked Y/N to be her girlfriend and she said no because Y/N wanted to ask her to be her girlfriend. After discussing it for a few minutes, Shauna gave up the moment Y/N gave her puppy eyes.

She sneaked every night to Y/N's house, going to sleep together and fearing she couldn't do it the moment they couldn't hold each other when they came back to their respective colleges. Many hidden kisses, desire to do what they did that week in her friend's house, but they gave up every time they tried, and something or someone interrupted them, so they happily did other things.

Like talk. They can talk for hours. It's something that Shauna adored about their night laying on the bed, talking about anything in particular or knowing Y/N unknown's side. She comprehends her better, and mentally grateful for choosing her to share her secrets, her dream passion or just to not run away from her with her weird persona.

About their friends, well... They agreed to not tell them anything. Y/N commented at Shauna about telling them their relationship at the end of the summer, only if she wants too. Shauna nodded, unsure. She wishes that she was more like Y/N in that aspect, not fearing what people could say, and less with her friends, the ginger knew that they can't say anything bad. But they are in 1997, and until this date, Shauna saw hate about it.

"What are you thinking about?" Y/N interrupted her thoughts, balancing their hands while they walked to Shauna's car. They went to the woods to walk, enjoying some time alone. The night arrived and the hour to the meeting with their friends was approaching. Because they would tell them about their relationship.

"About... How beautiful you are." Shauna commented, holding her laugh when Y/N shoved her playful.

The nights in Wiskayok by this time of the year usually are breezy, and Shauna wears one of her famous flannel on, Y/N was wearing one of hers too because she was stubborn to not grab any jackets and luckily Shauna had one in her car.

The car approached their vision, Shauna wrapped an arm around Y/N's shoulders and gently opened the copilot door, gaining a kiss on her cheek the moment she sat down on her seat.

"We need to pick up Jackie." Y/N commented, searching for some songs she likes on the radio.

"Believe me, I know." Shauna rolled her eyes, used to her friend's princess side.

The ride to Jackie's home was filled with Y/N humming the song playing on the radio, Shauna tapped the wheel to the beat of the song, humming quietly too. She honked a few times when they arrived, praying that Jackie doesn't take too long.

Shauna put a hand on Y/N's knee, caressing the exposed skin with her thumb. Her brown eyes softened seeing her profile, her mind calming down the spiral that usually she is in.

"You sure about this?" The ginger, less now, but still glowing, asked. Y/N put a hand on hers and nod with a smile.

"Yeah. I want to kiss you in front of my friends. Our friends." Y/N whispered, playing with her fingers.

Shauna can't hold the smile anymore. "And I want to kiss you every hour... Is this sane?" She joked, leaning to kiss her cheek.

Y/N shakes her head, giggling.

Shauna removed her hand when she heard a door opening. She looked behind and saw Jackie Taylor get in, shivering a little and she had a jacket on.

"Put on the calefaction, Shauna." Jackie said, closing the door.

"Hello to you too, and not. I'm not going to put it. It's not that cold." Shauna said, starting the car. She heard how Jackie let out a gasp.

"Open the right seat, there is a blanket." Y/N commented before they could get entangled by another silly discussion.

Jackie says loudly how much she loves her, making Y/N laugh and Shauna rolled her eyes. They are approaching Lottie's house, the last reunion until Thanksgiving. They decided to spend their time together in a quiet place, and since Lottie's parents are out the major part of the time, she offered to hold the little party.

"The last ones!" Van opened the front door, putting them to a side to let them pass in. Y/N is the first one to hug the redhead, from the whole gang, Van and Y/N had a special bond.

Y/N let Shauna, Jackie and Van behind and she adventure into the big living room, usually quiet and empty, now filled with laughter and life.

"There you are!" Lottie saw her and stood up with a happy smile, engulfing Y/N in a hug. "I'm gonna miss you a lot." She whispered when they separated.

"I hope you miss us a lot too..." Natalie commented behind her, a teasing smirk on her plump lips. Then, she envelopes Y/N in a hug.

Lottie rolled her eyes. "Don't get jealous, Scatorccio. I will miss you too, less than the rest but still I'm going to miss you." Her dark eyes lit with mischief, taking her red cup to her mouth.

Before Nat could reply back, Taissa interrupted them by pushing the blue eyed girl to a side and taking her turn to hug Y/N. Shauna and Jackie approached there and greeted them with hugs too.

They sit down next to each other, recounting old anecdotes or telling the new ones. Shauna was quiet, hearing them and sipping from her red cup while her eyes travelled to the storyteller. Y/N nudges her side, giving her a silly face when she turns to look at her.

"You are an idiot." Shauna leaned on her ear and whispered with a loving smile.

Y/N makes an offended face, putting a hand on her chest. Shauna rolls her eyes, but her smile remains.

"I will remind you later when you want to kiss me..." She whispered in her ear, licking her lips when she separated.

Her brown eyes opened, big and deep. Without noticing she gave her puppy eyes, not liking the idea of not kissing her. Y/N couldn't resist her eyes and without thinking too much, she grabbed her chin and pecked her lips.

Shauna froze on her seat, the place getting quiet and feeling all eyes on them. She cleared her throat, her surprise eyes going to normal but refusing to look at them. Y/N frowned when she paid attention to them, at first confused but soon realising what she did.

"Oh my god! Shit, I'm sorry Shippy." Y/N apologised with her girlfriend.

"Shippy? She hates that. This is serious." Van was the first to comment.

Shauna looks at her redhead friend, frowning. "She is the only one who can call like that." She warned them.

Y/N saw their unreadable expressions and decided to clarify. "We are in a relationship." She told them.

"Are you corrupting her!?" Jackie exclaimed, a shock expression plastered on her face.

"She's not! And you started corrupting me." Y/N said. "We like each other and decided to date. We wanted to tell you tonight, in a different manner... I hope it's okay with you guys." She said softly, playing with her fingers.

"Me and Taissa are in a relationship." Van said casually, Taissa nodded next to them.

"We are too..." Lottie comments, giving a soft look to the blonde.

Shauna opened her mouth, surprised and Y/N painted a small smile. "So, all of us like women? We are cool then." Jackie says, all looks on her now. "What? I appreciate women too." She said shrugging, taking her red cup to her lips.

"We knew that. We thought in high school that you and Shauna were dating. When we found that you didn't then we assumed during college maybe you get together." Natalie explained in an obvious tone.

"I agree." Y/N says, receiving an incredulous look from her girlfriend. "You look cute together if that helps."

"She corrupted me." Shauna said, looking at all of them. Y/N calls her name in a whine, while their friends laugh.

The rest of the night they enjoyed their time together, explaining the new unknown sides and all of them gave a talk to Shauna.