#like the one on the left here. that's the first time i ever met scott so obviously he wasn't as familiar with me as paul

[magentagalaxies]

happy birthday to the incredible paul bellini!!! may this be the best bellini day ever

(picture on the left is from the first mouth congress concert i went to last december and picture on the right is from my first ever zoom with paul bellini which is going to be exactly a year ago in a few weeks. so surreal how far our friendship has come since then, he's genuinely like family now)

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

Definitely not my type of girl. 

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately. 

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?” 

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.” 

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

[stormyelliotwritez]

walk with me…

ftm reader who has been in love with logan for years but he thinks logan is straight and also logan like wont stop being in love with jean and is absolutely OBLIVIOUS that r likes him.. (literally all the other x men know) and honestly this can be like super angsty or just silly idc whatever the vibe u best think works

im gonna somehow go with mostly angst coz thats my fav so here goes

tw for gender dysphoria related to wanting to fit logan’s so called type

BUT HE’S STRAIGHT?

Logan was staring at Jean again. This was like the fifth time just this staff meeting. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take this. Maybe Charles would let you go lay down if you faked a fever but maybe he’d do the whole psychic thing and realize you were fine.

You sat through the rest of the meeting and then left quickly, feeling like a loser. It’s been years and he still hasn’t noticed you. He’s always staring at Jean who’s literally been in love with Scott since they met. Why won’t he stare at you? How the fuck is he straight? But alas, he is.

You walked to your room, tugging at your shirt and wishing it would fit better. Maybe he’d have noticed you if you weren’t a boy, if you’d stayed what you’d been born as. Maybe if you were still her, he’d think you were cute. Maybe he’d look at you how he looked at Jean.

You slammed your door shut and clambered onto your bed, curling up into a ball. You stayed there, just thinking, until eventually you fell asleep.

In the morning, you got up and after showering and getting dressed, you threw on the jacket you’d stolen from Logan a few months ago, the one with the school’s logo. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. It’s not like he ever noticed you.

You went about your day, bumping into Scott who made a faux growl sound like Logan’s to tease you and then bumping into Hank who sniffed your jacket and then applauded you on managing to steal from Logan. Later in the day, you ran head first into Storm, when you were trying to avoid Logan, and she glanced at him and then meowed at you teasingly. You’d swear on someone’s grave that the only person who didn’t know about your years old crush was the man himself, Logan.

You managed to avoid Logan all day until… dinner. He was sitting opposite the spot you always sat in. He was sitting there. Why was he sitting there was a question you couldn’t answer. You tugged at your jumper while holding your plate with one hand and you walked over to him.

“Logan,” you said with a nod.

“Bub,” he said back before looking you over.

He didn’t say anything about the jacket. He just sat there and ate his dinner and then stood up. He walked around to your side and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Nice jacket, bub.”

He then walked off, just like that.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? He didn’t know though. He would know about your ridiculous crush if he was listening to your heartbeat right now. Oh my god, so he knew you’d stolen it but he couldn’t put the damn pieces together?

You finished your dinner and walked off. You were halfway to your room when someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty classroom. The door was slammed and you were disoriented in the dark.

“You like me, bub?”

That was Logan’s voice. Wait, he knew? How? But…

“Come on, I ain’t got all day,” he said abruptly.

You nodded. You were quite sure he could see in the dark and the scoff he made seemed to say so. How could you have been so stupid? He was probably going to hate you now. He was straight. He’d always been straight and in love with Jean. He was oblivious. He’d always been oblivious. He could never like you. You weren’t a girl, no matter how hard you wanted to still be one so he’d like you. Your heart was racing and soon enough, you were hyperventilating.

His hands were on your shoulders and you were being pulled into a hug, a hug that smelt of wood and fuel. He was hugging you?

“It’s okay, I got you, bub,” he placed a light kiss on your forehead, “I swing both ways, you know.”

You’d always hated that he was still taller than you, one of the downsides of not getting on T until your 20’s and- wait, what? He swings both ways?

“You-you do?” You said once your breathing had slowed.

He nodded. You couldn’t see it but you could feel it. He could like you… as you, as a man? You didn’t have to be someone else? You could just be you.

“Yep, now let’s go. I think there’s two beers calling our names in the teacher’s lounge,” he said before opening the door and pulling you out of the classroom. “Jean mentioned your little crush and now I gotta hear all about how you’ve been pining for me for years.”

Curse you, Jean, but thanks, was all you could think as you just nodded and walked with him to the teachers lounge.

pt 2 - he’s not straight?

[teencopandthesourwolf]

read on ao3 HERE

.

“I'm good, Stiles.”

Stiles thinks about the times when, all too often, he himself says I'm good in that particular way, and thinks about how it actually means everything in his life is currently lighting up like a dropped match landing in a trail of gasoline.

In the space of a single heartbeat, he knows he would somehow harness the contents of an entire fucking lake to dampen down that metaphorical trail for Derek, murdering the thought of that lost little boy playing Hide-Go-Seek in Derek's pale eyes.

Only he isn't about to start talking about things being on fire. Not to Derek, not ever.

Instead he says, “I always had this rule, you know, where I’d flat out ignore a problem and wait for it to—and I used to swear to myself that this would actually happen—” His lips drag themselves up one side of his face as he sweeps an arm dramatically through the drizzling rain and the pressing twilight. “—just go away.”

He then allows his arm to fall unceremoniously to his side, and the sound of hand slapping khakis rings out through the sparse and quiet branches of the preserve's stripped bare trees.

“Okay.” Derek says the word with an infinitesimal shake of his head, looking as if he wants Stiles to stop talking.

Thing is, if Derek wanted Stiles to stop talking he would say Stiles, stop talking.

So, Stiles troops on.

“And it kind of worked, a little bit. For a little while, at least. ” He takes a hit of chilly November air. Releases it slowly, enjoying the crazy plume of breath-smoke it creates. “Until I met you,” he shrugs.

Derek blinks and it's a betrayal, giving away his hard-won secrets.

Stiles briefly wonders who else—who left in the world—would know this about the werewolf standing opposite of him. Stiles doesn't need to be a ʼwolf to know this stuff, not when it comes to Derek Hale.

He tries not to look at Derek's lips when Derek licks them before asking, “What are you talking about, Stiles?”

“Magick,” he answers, his feelings and other things shifting underneath the layers of his skin, crackling away like a hundred tiny Roman Candles traversing his bloodstream and manifesting as gooseflesh.

Rolling his hoodie sleeve, he lifts a cold hand between the two of them and allows a miniscule fraction of whatever beats like a heart at the earth's core to flow up through the ground and into his feet and up his legs and down an arm, warm and thrilling, to then spring free out of his right palm.

A small sphere of pure light around the size of a tennis ball now glows about an inch above his hand, kind of like an oversized firefly—and just as alive.

“Cool as fuck, huh?” Stiles mutters, basking in its incandescence, super-proud of himself. Then he gets to his point. “Deaton showed me how to harness my spark, yeah? But I would never have found it in the first place, if you hadn't followed Scott and I into the woods that day.”

Derek blinks again. His jaw ticks like a clock.

“Stiles, that's a little like saying one, two miss a few, ninety-nine, a hundred,” he deadpans, and Stiles can't help but bark out a laugh.

Then he steels himself for one anticipatory moment before daring himself to take a step closer to Derek.

Derek stays put.

“Doesn't make it any less true,” Stiles shrugs.

Derek just stares at him for a moment, before peering down properly at Stiles's little orb, for the first time since Stiles summoned it.

“You've been practising,” he says simply, his eyebrows doing their thing.

He's now staring at Stiles's effort as if he wants to sink his fangs into it, like you would a quarter to test if it's real.

“Is it freaking you out?” Stiles asks.

“No,” he answers flatly. “I think it's cool as fuck,” and he looks up at Stiles like he might want to keep looking.

Stiles wants him to never stop.

“Then here, you can have it,” he says.

He takes another step closer to Derek.

They are toe to toe, now, and still Derek doesn't bolt, nor pounce, nor warn Stiles off.

So, Stiles—really slowly—reaches for Derek's hand.

Derek lets him.

Stiles then transfers the light to Derek's palm, cupping his hand around Derek's to ensure it keeps hovering there. He directs their hands to Derek's chest, stopping right over his heart and flattening them both there, he and Derek watching as Stiles's spark dissipates into Derek's body, leaving behind a few wispy tendrils of light that Stiles guides back into himself with a couple of waves of his free hand.

“Now, whenever you're good, I can be right there being good with you, even if I'm not around,” Stiles says, and then he hopes and hopes when he asks, “Is that okay?”

Derek smiles, and it's the first truly happy-looking smile that Stiles has been privileged enough to witness blooming on that beautiful, beautiful face of his.

“It's better than okay, Stiles,” he says. “It's magick.”

.

unedited, soz! this is for @dontcallpanic (pip knows why) <3

.

...edited version now found HERE on ao3 if you want to drop me a comment xp

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35 Preview

Coming soon...

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan them to us for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with the mayor there, one of the state senators. So many wealthy, important people like you."

That had you scoffing. "I'm no one special. At least not in the world of such important, political figures."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. A soft mask of golden sequins that fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of that name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

That had you smiling. Sure, Scott would keep you and Steve safe, but he also got time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena knew Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But since you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena, too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all that she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know that I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories you heard now that you were more involved were just horrified. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver.

A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like you got the look right. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion, seasons, all of it. You would learn. But until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile that question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a fairytale princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets two weeks ago.

[weneepie]

missing hours w/ wolverine rules | m.list

note. hiii it's my first time posting in here so please be nice with me :( I had this idea with logan for a while so, I hope you'll enjoy it!! please feel free to request <3

The Wolverine. He was a legend, one of the XMen ; actually, he was the XMen. A rude man who lived thousands of years and who seemed to not care about anyone or anything. And there he was, completely pathetic at this bar. Sitting at the counter, he was drinking and making himself miserable. The reason was simple : you weren’t here anymore. It was more than enough to drink until he couldn’t think straight anymore. 

Logan never thought he would care enough about someone to go this far, but apparently he was wrong. God knows how many times he laughed at Scott’s face because of his relationship with Jean ; and yet he was no better himself. A long sigh left his lips as he closed his eyes, your face almost immediately coming back to his mind. You were like a virus invading his brain. 

You were sleeping when you heard your phone ringing. You cursed silently at your own stupidity for not turning it off, grabbing the device to answer the call without even looking at who was calling. “What is it?” You asked, voice half asleep, slowly rubbing your eyes to try to emerge a little. 

When he heard your voice from the other side of the phone, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He almost forgot how soft you sounded when you were waking up. He stayed silent for a while, maybe a bit too long because you started to talk again, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s Logan,” he said, and it made you stop in a second. A sigh left his lips before he kept on explaining himself. “I don’t have a reason… Guess I needed to hear your voice, bub.” The silence after his words made him feel a hint of embarrassment. He felt a bit stupid right now ; maybe calling you wasn’t a good idea. Well, of course it wasn’t but… 

“You shouldn’t be calling me,” you started, and it broke his heart. He knew you were right. It was more than obvious that he should not have called. Not tonight, and not ever. Yet, he wasn’t able to forget you. You were occupying his mind all the freaking time and it was driving him crazy. He cleared his throat, to make clear that he was still on the other side of the phone. 

“You’re drunk, Logan,” you said, way too softly for him to handle it correctly. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.” This time, your words hit him like a truck. Regret? No, it was impossible. It was the last thing he could ever think about it towards you. “Never. There’s no way I’d ever regret talking to you.” 

It had no sense, all of this. This situation was far from making any sense. How did you end up with your ex boyfriend sitting on your couch, drunk enough to do any stupid decision passing through his mind. You were sitting next to him, the air thick and the tension more than present between the two of you. You didn’t even know what you offered him to come so late. 

Logan cleared his throat before his eyes met your profile, taking a look at you. It’s been so long since he saw you from this close, it was almost like a fever dream for him. “Listen, I…” He started but, when your eyes met his gaze, the words got caught in his throat. 

“I miss you. Every single day, and every single night. No matter what I’m doing, I just miss you all the time.” You started to say, and he felt a hint of hope inside of his chest. So he wasn’t the only one with those feelings? You were living it just like he was himself? So why does something felt so off? He couldn’t understand it. 

“But we can’t do this anymore. We’re hurting each other Logan, and you know it,” you slowly grabbed his calloused hand between your two delicate ones. He could tell how you felt just by looking into your eyes ; he was reading you like you were an open book. It was way too obvious for him, so hearing those words coming out of your mouth was a pure torture. 

Logan seemed to be searching for his words. The so confident Wolverine was a mess when he was trying to make up things with you. “We were too young, and…” You didn’t give him the opportunity to finish his sentence, a slight chuckle leaving your lips. “Young? You know damn well that the problem isn’t here.” Oh yes, he knew itt. You yelled at him more than enough to understand where it was ; but he wasn’t able to do anything about it. 

“Nothing makes sense if you’re not here. Come on bub, don’t tell me I’m wrong.” Of course he wasn’t wrong. In fact, he had never been more right in his entire life. You came a little bit closer, not thinking too much as you left a kiss against his cheek. The moment after, you were standing up from the couch. You looked at him, and the soft smile on your lips destroyed everything in his chest.

“You can sleep here tonight,” you told him, and Logan understood that the conversation was done for the night. He took a sip of water from his glass before looking back at you for a moment, the corners of his lips slightly rising in a discrete smile.  

“Good night bub,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Good night Logan”, and at those words, you disappeared from his vision in a second. It was easier that way. He was way too drunk to have any serious conversation anyway. So you left him on the couch without saying anything more. 

He thought about it, about you until he fell asleep. He didn't know where it would be going, but he had this hint of hope in the heart. Who knows, maybe tomorrow was another day.

thank you for reading!

[kitchenisking]

Day 3

The Pot Of Gold At The End Of The Rainbow by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving - (Rating: T, Words: 8,881, sterek)

Stiles meets his first Hale when he's seven, and the most important Stilinski-Hale twenty years later.

~

In which Derek's family meets the love of his life years before he does, but Derek still gets the better end of the bargain.

As You Lay Dying by FelOllie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,360, sterek)

Seven excruciatingly long days since Mexico: Take Two, and Stiles still couldn't get the sound of Derek's breath rattling wetly in his lungs out of his head. He heard it in his sleep, over the the pounding rain and the sound of Malia breathing softly beside him. He heard it when he was wide awake, over the din of crowded hallways and classrooms, cutting through the noise of the last lacrosse game of the season and the bustle of the locker room.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours, give or take, and Stiles had yet to wipe the sight of a bloodied and dying Derek from behind his eyelids. He saw it with every blink and sometimes even when his eyes were open and each time it made his chest feel like it was caving in.

Soulsick by theroguesgambit - (Rating: T, Words: 3,476, sterek)

Derek loathes this idiot of a soulmate, whoever they are. For not coming to Stiles’ call, for being too useless do just to this one simple thing, for failing Stiles, proving how utterly unworthy they are before they’ve ever met him. -- Stiles is cursed with a disease that will eventually destroy his soul unless his soulmate helps strengthen it. The pack performs a ritual to call his soulmate to his side. But days pass and no one appears... 

Maybe they're already here?

Making love is how we'll pray by lanalua - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,742, sterek)

Stiles and Derek perform a ritual in the woods.

In a Moment of Vulnerability by cloudsarefluffy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 87,097, sterek)

While in New York City to visit his aspiring and success-hungry friend Scott, who left for an internship he fought for over several years ago, Stiles runs into an alpha with a devilish reputation and a dark, tantalizing look that precedes him. Couple that with horny loneliness and failed suppressants, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for a one-night stand that will set the bar forever.

But what if forever isn’t something that the one person you’ve given yourself to wants? What if a forever is somehow growing inside of you after a few months pass and a planned heat is missed? What if you don’t know what to do and there’s only so much chocolate that can soothe an aching heart before you feel like you've got morning sickness all over again?

This is a story about how Stiles loses his virginity alongside himself, and somehow, he manages to find something he never thought he’d ever have along the way.

Looking forward by Smowkie - (Rating: T, Words: 6,953, sterek)

Derek’s cabin was small. Tiny, even. He liked it, sometimes he missed having a big house, like the one he had grown up in, but the cabin was good, comfortable, and he, well, it was somewhere to hide, somewhere no one would find him. Somewhere no one would bother him.

He was happy, though, sort of. Happier than in a long time, he had a comfortable little home, lots of land he could run on—and he did, shifted to his full wolf form and ran for hours, it was wonderful—and his life wasn’t bad at all.

Then one day, the 21st of December on his second year living there, Stiles came to visit.

Written for the prompt cuddles in a power outage.

I Want You to be Happy by lvmehtme - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,851, sterek)

Stiles' dad has finally founds someone and the way he looks at her like she hung the moon and the joy in his every smile after all these years is worth everything that she does to him in the dead of night when no one's looking.

I'm giving everyone a fair warning right now, there's statutory rape and psychological trauma in this fic. It ends happy, but it does get graphic. Please proceed with care.

loyalty. courage. integrity. by redhoodedwolf - (Rating: G, Words: 707, sterek)

“Derek what the fuck!”

“Hard first day?” Derek guessed. He pushed himself forward and extended a hand towards Stiles. “You can vent, I have time to listen.”

Little Kid Crush by orphan_account - (Rating: T, Words: 5,052, sterek)

“What’s your name?” Derek asks, wiping the last of the tears off the kid’s face with his sleeve.

“’tiles,” the kid mumbles, and Derek frowns, wondering if he heard correctly.

“Tiles?” Derek repeats.

“Stiles,” the kid repeats, pouting at Derek slightly, defiant even though his eyes are still puffy and red and his cheeks tear-stained.

Witches Wrath by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,063, sterek)

Derek is cursed by witches giving him a hard problem. Nothing works, not cold showers, not his hand. He goes to Stiles for help, and the great friend he is Stiles won't turn him away.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒎𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕

this is part 2 of just a bet.

summary - when the reader left steve after finding out she was just a bet, she found a new home and a new family, followed by meeting the love of her life, logan.

warning - fluff, angst, swearing.

the gifs I use aren’t mine, divider by @newlips

But every fairytale has a happy ending.

After everything that had happened with Steve and being a bet, I never thought I’d find love or trust someone again. But then he came along… Logan Howlett. Gaining the room's attention with his fluffy hair and bulging muscles, but what caught my attention was his ‘give no shit’ attitude and the fact that when we first met, he didn’t try to get into my pants or hit on me. Logan simply glared and snarled before walking away.

But I didn’t blame Logan for how he was because when he first met me. I was the same. I was closed off, and albeit I didn’t glare or snarl at him, I wasn’t exactly the friendliest, and it was all because of how one man and his friends managed to make me feel below myself and unloved. 

Over the years, Logan and I would briefly talk if needed, I don’t know when it started, but one day I woke and felt my heart begin to skip a beat whenever I’d look at him or catch him staring. I found that my cheeks would constantly become a rosy pink around him, and it scared the hell out of me because this was how I felt with Steve before everything happened, and I didn’t want to go through that pain again, even if it meant shielding myself from love forever.

It took a while for me to warm up to Logan, especially when he began to warm up to me. Charles told me that I was special and that Logan has always been grumpy, but he’s been more closed off ever since Jean. Which was a shock once I learnt everything that happened between the two and how she still chose Scott even though she made Logan feel special and made him think he had a chance.

In my mind, all of this was a mess. I spent time building walls just for this burly wolf-like man to walk into my life and knock them down. I remember when Logan and I had an actual conversation with no snarkiness or sarcasm, and it was just peaceful.

I’m standing outside, tending to the flowers, the one thing that brought me peace when I arrived here. “You know, staring isn’t polite.” I turn my head slightly, looking at Logan, taking in his white tank top and jeans as he leans against a tree, a cigar held loosely between his lips. His piercing blue eyes stare daggers into me over his sunglasses. 

Logan huffs as he pushes himself off the tree and walks over to me, “why are you always out here? Tending to these stupid weeds?” The deep rumble of his voice rolls off his tongue and sends shivers through my body. 

I squint up at him, the sun blinding me. “It calms me. The only thing that’s brought me peace out of this hellhole of a world.” Without thinking, Logan takes his sunglasses off and puts them on me. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest at the action, “thank you.” I give him a soft smile before looking down at the flowers with crimson cheeks.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He grunts, the question startles me. I shyly nod, never expecting those words to leave the man’s mouth. The thought of finally having someone to share this with causes my heart to warm, hopefully. 

Logan and I spend the next few hours talking, him sometimes helping me tend to the flowers or standing back watching me. His presence comforted me more than anyone’s had in my lifetime; for a second, it was scary.

I blink as the memory of our first real conversation flashes through my mind, and a gentle smile is brought to my face. “What’s got you all happy?” The sound of the familiar gruff voice still brings butterflies to my stomach. Logan walks into my view and bends down, pecking my lips. “Is there someone else I don’t know about, Mrs Howlett?” 

My breath hitches, one at his taste and two as he calls me by my new last name. I give him a bright smile, leaning forward to provide him with another kiss as our eyes connect. “Only you, Mr Howlett. It’ll only ever be you.” The feel of his arms wrapping around me causes me to feel safe, my eyes closing as I give my complete trust to my husband.

I know you all may be confused about the big jump, but I couldn’t give away the goods straight away now, could I? As you’ve seen, Logan and I didn’t like each other immediately, and then we slowly began warming up to one another. You saw our very first genuine conversion and then straight to us being married. I won’t let you miss our big day, so don’t worry! 

After our conversation, weeks went by of us continuing that pattern until he suddenly asked me on a date. At first, I was hesitant, and for obvious reasons, but he looked me in the eyes and told me he was a grown man and not a spoilt child. Just because someone else threw away a perfect toy doesn’t mean he will. And yes, he said toy, but I didn’t take offence to that because, honestly, what he said was sweet, especially from a man like Logan.

That day, he took me out on a picnic. Complimenting me on the pretty pastel yellow sundress I wore, he picked my favourite flowers and bought my favourite food. We sat, ate and shared stories. Our first date was when Logan found out how and who hurt me, and that was when I also learned about his past from him. He held me against his warm body when night fell as we watched the stars. That was the night we fell in love with each other, and many more dates came after before Logan brought me back to the exact spot of our first date and proposed. 

I never thought I’d find love again, but Logan brought me back to life, and I’m grateful. Now the day of our wedding was my favourite, I didn’t expect a tough man like Logan to cry, but he did.

My dress trailed behind me as I walked down the aisle toward my happiness. My eyes lit up with joy as they connected with Logan, who had tears rolling down his face. When I got close, Charles handed me off, offering us a smile. 

Logan and I looked at each other with nothing but love. Storm began to speak, and we both repeated what she said, never once taking our eyes off one another. Not even when we had to grab our rings before Storm could tell Logan he could now kiss the bride, I interrupt. 

“Kiss me,” I whispered, my voice soft and full of love. 

Logan raised a brow as he smiled, “You always order me about.”

“Kiss me.”

“Are you sure?” He murmured, his mouth curved into a wolfish smile. “Because once I do, I might not be able to–”

I grabbed the back of his head and yanked him down. Our lips connect and move with passion. His arms wrap around me, and large hands splayed on my back as he dips me. We both smile into the kiss as cheers explode from the seats. Logan and I slowly disconnect from one another, looking into each other’s eyes as we smile.

“I love you, Mr Howlett.”

“And I love you, Mrs Howlett.”

“Darling.” I blink as I’m brought out of another memory, and my eyes connect with Logan's blue ones. “Where’d you go again?” I offer a happy smile.

“I was remembering our wedding day.” Logan’s face breaks into a giant grin as he remembers it.

“Well, c’mon, there’s someone outside looking for ya, and Charles won’t tell me who.” I nod, standing up and walking out of the room with him. Our hands interlaced as we entered the main room. I tighten my grip on Logan’s hand as I feel the tension. 

“Logan said there was someone here for me?” I watch as my new family gulps before Charles rolls forward and says a name I’d never thought I’d hear again.

“Steve managed to find where you were, and he wouldn’t leave until you heard him out.” Charles rolls toward me, grabbing my hands and ignoring Logan’s growls. “We did try and make him leave, Y/n. Please know we would never try to hurt you intentionally.” 

“It’s okay, and I guess it was going to happen sooner or later.” I take a deep breath before turning toward the man who caused me trouble. “What do you want, Steve? I thought I told you to go to hell?” I hold back the smile, desperately trying to escape at Logan’s chuckle. 

Steve rubs the back of his neck as he goes to take a step toward me but reconsiders as Logan glares menacingly and growls. “I came to say I regret everything, and these past few years have been hell for me.” Steve stands tall, squaring his chest, when he realises Logan isn’t leaving my side. “I want you back. Don’t you want to be mine again?” I scrunch my nose at the words that leave his mouth, quickly placing my hand on Logan’s chest to stop him from ripping the man apart. 

I walk forward, desperately wanting to wipe the smug smirk that rests upon Steve’s face. “Steven, you would be the last man I’d ever get with if we were the only ones alive.” The smirk slowly slides off his face, but I don’t stop. “You may think you can get any woman you want even after ripping their hearts out and stomping on it because of how you look, but you didn’t always look like this, did you, Steve?” Feeling the anger deep inside, I get in his face. “Remember when you were just a little guy and women would mock you? They’d rip your heart out and pierce it with their heels because you weren’t worth their time.”

Steve gulps, looking at the group of people behind me for help, but all he receives are malicious smiles. Fear spiked within him when his eyes connected with Logan’s before quickly looking down at me. “Well, guess what, Stevie? You aren’t worth anyone’s time now, and god, I wish I could punch your stupid face for what you did to me.”

Steve smugly smiles. “Do it.” The taunting tone causes my fist to twitch. My eyes trail down his body before coming back up and connecting with his eyes. ‘Typical, men always think they know everything.’

“Alright.” I smile, pulling my fist back before a crunching sound fills the room as my fist connects with his nose. I watch as Steve falls to the ground and follow by leaning down, level with his ear. “You ever come near me again, and no one will ever find your body.” I stand and walk away, needing some air.

Logan’s POV.

‘Fuck, I desperately wanted to kiss the life out of my wife right now.’ I thought as I watched her leave, followed by everyone else. I walk over to the pathetic sack of meat on the ground. Swiftly pulling out a cigar and lighting it, I stand over him. 

Steve slowly looks up at the intimidating man, blood dripping from his broken nose. “I do care for her. She’s–”

“Not yours,” I gruffly finish. “They are my rings on her finger. It’s my name she’s taken, and it’s my bed, she shares.” I growl out the following words. “She is mine. So whether you care for her or not isn’t fucking relevant.” I grunt, puffing out some smoke with every word I speak. 

Steve swallows, a groan falling from his lips at the pain. “She was mine first.”

I roll my eyes, wanting to stick my claws through his chest to put myself out of this misery. “And you shouldn’t have been a dick. You made a bet and let her go, and that was your mistake.” Feeling done with the conversation, I walk in the direction my wife left. Leaving the mess on the floor. 

The moment I spot her, I let out a sigh of relief and make my way over with long strides, needing my wife in my arms. When I reach Y/n, my arms instinctively wrap around her as I nuzzle my face into her neck. “Mine.” 

She leans into me as she lets out a breathy whisper. “Yours.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

I hope you liked part 2 @paarthurnax59

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

x. ten: live that way

it was the first time in a while that the sunlight touched her face and it did not hurt. she stirred awake, the light seemed to be poking her from sleep. raine tossed, pulling the sheets deeper to her.

"i was afraid you will not be here when i wake up."

his morning voice greeted her as he placed a hand on her head and played with her hair. ah yes, last night really did happen. she buried herself on his chest, taking in his natural smell.

she looked up at him, her lips grazing his collarbone as she spoke with a smile, "anthony and violet are going to kill us."

benedict chuckled lowly at her jest, "they will not."

she returned back to his chest, closing her eyes once again. he planted his face on top of her head, seemingly taking in her smell as well. this was it. these were the arms she has longed for—the comfort she has been seeking.

"i am too tired." her muffled voice resounded.

he planted a kiss on her for solace, "it is alright. i will be here."

raine pursed her lips, deciding if she should say anything about her grave situation later and ruin the moment or not. but as we have always known, she was a frank one. it would not be her if she wasn't.

"this may be the last time we will be together."

"then i will wait for you."

he replied with ease, professing confidence amidst the direness of everything around them.

raine was sure though—that the intensity of the situation has not sunk in on benedict yet. she was with him, alive and well right now. how easy it was to be lost in the blissfulness of the moment.

she slowly sat up, leaning for a kiss on his forehead as she removed herself from the sheets, "let us go. they will grow wary of our absence."

raine clothed herself as the man kept his eyes on her. she turned to him, instructing that he follow down after a couple of minutes to avoid suspicion from the family. she turned the knob, exiting the room silently.

as she looked up to walk, she was met with a viscount already staring curiously at her.

"what? it's my room. ho—how was the ball?" she said in a pitched voice, quite defensively, causing anthony to narrow his eyes at her.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

she ate quite the breakfast, treating it as if it was her last meal. at the very least, she was happy she ate with the bridgertons—the only family she has left.

after a meal for breakfast, she excused herself at once, quickly going to anthony's office with raphael in tow. they have been going back to back for strategies on what to do for more than two hours already, now settling in silence to let themselves take a breath. the colonel called for her out of the blue, the latter waiting for him to continue.

"lord high chancellor scott will be there."

she looked with confusion at that. raine was familiar of the man, yes, but she has not seen him ever.

"i do not know what he is like."

"raine, i have not told you one thing." he began, words laced with shame, "they took general's body."

in truth, she knew already. raphael would have done anything to bring her father to her even if a lifeless body. he would actually give his life to his superior since the general saved him before in the streets of homelessness too.

"i have figured, given that you returned alone without his remains. you would not have left if you could."

she tightly smiled at him, the most form of comfort they could achieve in this moment.

"it was him. he was there when they attacked our quarters, ordering his men." he revealed, regret in his voice on how he was not able to do anything to save the general in that time.

raine put her pen down, closing her eyes for a second before turning to him, "why are you telling me this just now?"

"i was debating myself whether i should." he replied with doubt. he knew how the girl can get mad easily sometimes, especially that concerning her family.

she stared out of nowhere, trying to think of something. an idea popped in her head as she spoke with a realisation, "we will use that to our advantage then."

"no, that's..." raphael seemed go have caught on what she was thinking. he showed his clear disagreement with her plan, "you will be charged for high treason."

"by questioning his person?" she scoffed at the idea of a soft high chancellor.

"by questioning his person, you are accusing him." the colonel retorted, his arms on his waist, thinking of other solutions as well.

"it is not an accusation if it is true."

"it is an accusation if we cannot prove it."

raine knew he was right. they could do nothing about it if they cannot prove it, "we can build the story around us, put the rest of the soldiers outside of it all."

he sat beside her on the couch, facing her calmly as if giving up, "they all knew what we were doing, raine. there was nothing like only the general and i. the whole troop knew the issue we found and the measures we were taking. they are all highly ranked men and were the most trusted by your father."

"i do not care." she said with a slam, staring him down with firm, "forty-six soldiers, raphael. forty-six."

despite her best efforts, a tear fell from her already luminous eyes. the thought that these men who should have been celebrated by their services are coming close to dishonor angers and pities her at the same time.

"i will not let you all die."

he placed a hand over hers, "we are soldiers. we have been prepared for this."

"not without dignity."

raine declared with might. she will make sure to turn the tables, and if it will not, she will fucking flip it over.

he could do nothing but nod slowly, accepting her point. he took a glimpse at his watch, ruffling the girl's hair as he stood up.

"it's noon."

she nodded, following the man outside the study, "gather them."

currently in the hallway, waiting for carriages after carriages to arrive, the second daughter caught sight of her and took her hand.

"raine, come. just for a while."

she followed the young woman up to her bedroom where penelope stands, waiting in anxiety. eloise gestured to the redhead as she offered.

"penelope can help you turn the people's favor to you."

getting a hint of what she was trying to say, raine tightly smiled at them, "lady whistledown?"

penelope stopped her tiny movements of unease as she turned to the silva, both of them asking her in chorus, "how did you know?"

"no," she ignored the question. she was a daughter of a general, of course she would know. she stepped towards the girl, addressing their idea to help, "i appreciate you both trying to help, but no. they knew of my father's activities and he was a general."

raine took the featherington's hands and held them softly, "my best bet is they know you are lady whistledown and is just letting you be for now since you have not attacked them directly."

"but you cannot go there like this." eloise voiced in distress and worry.

she did not realise that other people were being affected by her situation this much. the young silva thought she has managed to keep them off and away—enough that they would not need to worry. evidently, that was not the case.

"come here." and so, she placed each of her arms on the girls' shoulders, bringing them in on a tight hug. it may have been her imagination, but eloise let out a small sob as she wrapped her arms on her.

they exited the room after, descending it with begrudging steps. the carriages have arrived and are only waiting for them. the bridgertons gathered near the door to bid her farewell. she turned, addressing them for possibly the last time.

"i ask of you all, do not go anywhere near the palace."

the matriarch could not help herself but grab the girl, enveloping her in one of the warmest hugs the young one has ever received. violet kissed the top of her head, a gesture that says all will be well.

raine knew it was not going to be.

and so, she continued on her way, exiting the bridgertons' home to see the carriages lined up, all filled with soldiers. they waited for her to get in just as benedict came forward. he held her hand tightly, prompting her chin up as he caught her lips in his.

she tasted like heartache and war.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the twelve carriages that contained the forty-six soldiers and loraine silva arrived at the front of the palace in a processional manner. a significant number of citizens have gathered. at the sight of the hottest topic of the town—the country, even—some were yelling in support to them and some against.

the viscountess, the colonel, and the major sat on the first carriage, the men exiting first. she followed, not sparing any look to the people. they could not affored to cheer nor smile. this was the deciding moment of their future.

raphael and raine entered the palace alone, the soldiers all lined up in a row outside, facing the people. they were greeted coldly and strictly by both royal guards and other military that she was sure must have interacted with her father at least once. they were guided into different rooms. she was given nothing but the wary and observing gazes of the unknown soldiers guarding her.

the colonel has been away for more than an hour now. she understood that they were interrogating him first, squeezing all the details before they would deal with her nuisance. not later than her own planning of her statements in her head, the door opened to reveal the man, head leveled properly. but, she could tell. that it was only his rank that made him still have the dignity to raise his head. however, the inner raphael? she could see him conceding and casting the head downwards.

she was prompted to stand up, them crossing each other as she left the room and walked towards where raphael came from. the doors opened to reveal the queen, brimsley behind, and the lord high chancellor with two other parliamentary members and two decorated generals, it seems.

raine sat across them all as lord scott did not waste time to begin his questions, "did you know of your father's treacherous plans against the crown?"

just by the first question, she already knew she wanted to shoot him. he was enjoying this, evidently on his tone.

"i did not."

he scoffed sarcastically at that, turning to the other members present as if gaining their attention, "i find it hard to believe, considering how close you both were, especially after the death of your mother and brother—god rest their souls."

it was a foul. mentioning them both amidst all of this was a great foul. she narrowed her eyes at him, firmly and armed as her voice sounded with confidence, increasing in volume.

"i did not know because there were no treacherous plans in the first place."

the members of the parliament leaned back slowly with their chins raised in an insulted manner. the two generals present turned to them with a curious look. ah, these generals are not involved in this.

lord scott noticed their interest piqued and hurried to push the matter to the young lady, "major general silva was reported of having questionable communications within the military force. we were monitoring him for months."

he continued to reveal the story he has crafted so well against them, "in the most recent event, he was caught exchanging fire with the british military, resisting in the quarters that must have served as their unofficial office for such activities."

she sat up straight with a piercing look at him, offense clear intended on her tone, "and who can attest to this?"

"girl, you question the credibility of the sources of the highest governments of the crown?!" he bellowed, sitting at the edge of his seat as the other members gestured for him to calm down.

"yes, in fact, i do."

"loraine, address the assertions."

the queen spoke for the first time. ah, she was not involved either. raine could tell she was trying to help, trying to get her out of this.

"your majesty," the girl began, turning to the queen with respect in contrast to the lord high chancellor, "my father was not a traitor and neither am i or raphael."

"where is the quarters where armand was unfortunately killed?" she asked outright.

the young silva could see right through the queen's plans. her majesty has conceded the matters of the girl's father. there was no saving his legacy—he was not saved already. it was a lost cause.

charlotte focused on his offspring, saving her from this is the only thing she could do for the family. and fortunately, the girl looked like she did not know anything.

raine had no words to answer at all. all the planning they did, all the stories she prepared—they went to the drain in just one question.

the queen waved her hand, the footman understanding her language. he opened the door and there enters raphael. he sat on the other chair beside the girl as charlotte continued.

"colonel montague has admitted to all suspicions." at the mention, raine turned to the man instantly, looking at him in surprise. the queen continued, "your lack of knowledge in the basic information of their activities suggests that you were indeed oblivious to the acts of treachery to the crown."

the girl glared at the queen, completely opposing her idea of helping. she declared clearly, word per word in firmness, "there was no betrayal from our end."

she clutched the couch, anger rising at their refusal to listen and acknowledge her side. other than being known for her unceasing confessions to the second bridgerton son, raine is also infamous for her hatred and passive-agressiveness.

"the colonel has copies of multiple reports that were altered to provide misinformation and cause mayhem in the military communication." her voice maintained the strength of her argument, "they were investigating it for months, even during my debut. we can call people as witness—"

raine held her tongue in time. she does not wish to put people on the government's eyes anymore. she swiftly dismissed the previous idea, continuing her previous point.

"the night they were ambushed on the way to the ball... tell them, raphael."

she turned to the other man who stayed silent the whole time, beckoning him to talk about what he witnessed in all actuality. however, the latter refused to utter a single word. she furiously turned back to the high officials.

"he saw the british insignia—the very people my father promised to protect the crown with." the young one spat the words with absolute hate, pointing her finger to the high chancellor, "and in fact, when they attacked my father in the quarters, you were there lord scott, were you not?!"

"you dare declare such accusation when you do not even know its location!" lord scott raised his voice, growling in her disrespect, "we are not here to address the matters of your father. he was a traitor. you are here to be questioned about your involvement in the said treason!"

raphael moved, raising his head to the officials with a determined voice, "i have conceded to everything. i have divulged all you wanted to know. the girl is entirely unaware of our activities!"

"oh, stop making her look like a child!" the high chancellor sneered at him, looking at loraine with sarcasm, "the lady has been raised by a general. everyone knows of your physical skills and marksmanship, taught by your very own father since you were young."

he stood up with authority, slamming his words with distaste. he stepped forwards as he pointed down a finger to stress his point. the young silva's eyes darkened at that, her mind going blank as he continue.

"there is no need to stray far from the truth."

he was too loud for her, his words biting her. she recognised this tension, this atmosphere. this is the battle. this is the war.

"you grew up mostly with him, taught everything by him, discussed plans with him, strategised with him," he paused, as if gathering his breath before he spat with malice.

"and committed high treason with him!"

raine stood up at once, unclasping her gun from her thigh in the process as she shot the man on his chest twice, his blood getting on her dress and features. the queen jumped and recoiled at the sound, brimsley nearing her instantly. the rest of the members jumped away and the generals reached for their guns.

loraine silva has shot the lord high chancellor.

one of the generals opted to reach for the actively dying lord scott, his hands on his chest as his mouth froze and jaw locked in neural shock.

the girl turned to the general and pointed her gun at him, "help him and see what follows."

he slowly backed with the queen gesturing for him to stay down as well. her majesty understood the young lady. she was not a threat to anyone else at the room as long as they were not a threat to her.

she walked to near the chancellor that leaned back helplessly with blood on the foamed chair, "you were right about everything but one."

she did not dropped her gun, still aiming it to his head now with clear dark intent. her voice was neither loud nor small, neither hard nor soft. it was the kind that would cause you to squirm.

"we did not betray the crown. we did not betray its people."

her voice did not declare war. it proclaimed the ending.

"and if we did," she leaned down to him as if whispering, "none of you will ever know."

raine stood straight up, sneering at the chancellor below her, "we would not have been as stupid as you."

she pulled the trigger thrice more—with no mercy or pity, with no regards of the people around her. seeing him finally stop breathing, she dropped her arm down, still gripping the gun hard.

"it would have done you good to know that i have his patience as well."

by the remnants of her rage, the future became clear—it's going to fall apart.

"your majesty," raine turned to the queen. the two generals behind her went for their guns seeing the girl's back on them. charlotte raised her hand immediately, halting the actions of both men as the silva continued, "the reports and all related documents are in the care of viscount bridgerton."

she dipped her head down in a bow for a few respectful seconds before standing back upright, feet together, leaning in a martial manner.

"i apologise for the mess, aunt lottie."

raine walked away, raphael following closely. he wanted to say something so badly, but was fearful of disturbing the already unstable state of the girl.

they exited the palace with no other encounters, likely because of her majesty's intercession. reaching outside the fence, the people tripling in number than earlier. they all yelled unintelligibly at the sight of them. her father's soldiers turned about face at their arrival. it was obvious that they heard the gunshots—her father's silver flintlock pepperbox has a hell of a sound.

gilbert returned raphael's gun, the latter cocking it immediately up in the air before firing. the crowd silenced in chorus as the girl inhaled deeply.

"each and every one of you has seen my father. major general silva had always been for the people."

while her father carried the rank of a major general, he was not disconnected with the people. yes, he was still distant for security purposes, but for a man his rank, he willingly shook hands with the people that deserved it.

and, armand often told her that he gets to shake more hands of the commoners and the general public than the officials.

"he was not a traitor. they have blamed their own treachery to my father, killed my father, and killed his loyal men—men that were all defending the crown and its people. this is what has become of our society. i do not care if you are busy with the social season and of other pleasures. this should be your duty as a person behind the crown."

she walked at the center, nearing them all so that they would hear her words better—words that they shall engrave in their hearts and minds, etched in their very soul.

"i stand before you all, not only as his daughter, but as someone who will never sit whilst injustice is apparent."

the viscountess silva's voice deepened with conviction. her eyes were flaring with truth and patriotism. she caught everyone's gaze and held it until it hurt.

"one who will not cover her ears against the screams of the dead."

"one who will not close her eyes in the midst of people abusing their power."

"one who will never sleep soundly whilst there are bodies of the wronged under each of our beds. "

all of her will went to her voice as she declared her final words to the public.

"this is the age of awakening. do not go gentle into that good night!"

raine continued to speak in the words coded by her father, the late major general, the superior of all. the forty-six soldiers answering with equal strength.

"min koimitheís ísycha ekeíni tin kalí nýchta!"

"orgí, orgí enántia sto svísimo tou fotós!"

they placed their right fists on top of their heart as the young lady and raphael found the royal guards and other military personnel. there was no escaping their situation now. what they did ensured only one path, and that was their head to the execution block.

the queen has ordered to not execute them on the spot. she reasoned that it would mean making them martyrs on the eyes of the people and they want to avoid that—although in truth, she pushed for them to have a private execution because that is what the two wanted.

viscountess loraine silva and colonel raphael montague turned about face to the rest of the soldiers. the latter saluted in uniform to the colonel, him returning it. they were saluting their ranks for the last time. she saluted the men this time, and by her surprise, the soldiers then turned to the young lady and saluted to her.

they were not supposed to salute back to her. she has no official rank.

raphael nudged her, prompting the girl to dismiss the salute as did the soldiers. a warm smile settled on her lips before both of them turned to the guards.

this is it. there is no going back.

and just as raine entered the vehicle to transport them to the cells, she completely missed the familiar head standing out from the crowd like a sore thumb despite her telling him not to attend.

once again, he could do nothing but hold his head down and shut his eyes at the end of the day. his palms formed a fist, biting his lips intensely as tears graced the floor under him.

every storm runs out of rain.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

[squiddy-god]

Task force T4T

Jhonny "soap" McTavish

Ok so apparently this needs to be a series (: anyway some people are really weird about trans!Soap and really fetishize it. So I would like to re-state that I AM A TRANS MAN. Also if you fetishize trans!Soap or any other trans people you are weird and I wish you the worst <3 also this is meant for trans men specifically, I don't care who interacts but keep in mind this is for trans men. I will probably make a x transfem version! 

Tw : dysphoria, nsfw under cut, tooth rotting fluff, transphobia, t4t, mlm, trans soap x trans masc reader, periods, pre bottom surgery implied, period sex. 

God gives the fattest tits to his most trans masc of soldiers 

Soap has recently gotten top surgery and he loves it 

His scars aren't very noticeable but he really doesn't care, he's just glad to have them gone. 

Soap still wears his binders sometimes tho they don't really bind any more for him it's more to feel connected to that part of himself

Soap isn't concerned about passing as Cis, he's very proud that he's trans 

Has a Scottish🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 flag over his right peck and has a slightly smaller trans flag over his ribs on the left side 

It's on his ribs so he has a excuse to show off his abbs smh

A lot like ghost there are so many ways that you could meet but I'll give you a few that I really like

One is the basics, he saw you at the bar across the way, drinking or not, your hanging out with friends having a grand time and soap is just smitten

He's confident and he'll be damned if he lets such a handsome man pass him by. So he walks up and asks to buy you a drink, “can a buy ye’ a drink” you assumed that the handsome Scott was asking one of your friends till he looked right at you, beaming blue eyes locked in and laser focused “cannae let a braw man like yer’self get away” 

Johnny comes on strong and playful, just enough to make you laugh and let him buy you a pint while he sweet talks you. 

He honestly hadn't noticed your pride pin but once he does he's all smiley and pulling up his shirt to show his tattoo 

Alright number two is your his neighbor! He's not home super often but he's always really nice when he is home, and he won't like he has a bit of a puppy crush on you, talk a bunch about his handsome neighbor. Well one day he's on medical leave for a while, almost blew himself up on a mission and has a bit of nerve damage that needs to heal up. You saw him come home early in the morning when you're leaving for work and decided to do something nice! Made him some bloody good cookies 

The second he opened his door you see you, his good looking neighbor with a batch of cookies in hand he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. 

Meanwhile he was in his binder and a pair of shorts

 You knock on the door, a bit on the nervous side considering this would be the first real time you've talked to your neighbor outside of a few polite conversations checking the mail. Yet here you are with fresh cookies in your plastic tupperware container. True be told it didn't take Johnny long to Answer, undoing the latch and opening the door wide to be met with you, the guy he'd been (not so) subtly pinning after. Johnny was casual, mohawk cropped a bit lower than normal since he'd only just gotten back, and his chest covered by an ever so slightly loose fitting binder. It was plain black, coming just down his ribs almost like a crop top and showing off the hair of his stomach just below his navel. 

Soap is a hairy guy, the T really does wonders for his hair, he's also been on T for a while 

Has never liked needles and prefers to use gel or patches if he can help it. 

He also eats a diet with a lot of trace testosterone in it and that helps 

Thighs like a fur carpet smh 

He owns a few binders, a plain black one, a black tank top binder that looks more like a compression shirt, and of course, his favorite Scottish flag binder. He also has custom binders that match the tartans of the kilts he has. 

Absolutely has gotten into a bar fight with a transphobe and it will absolutely happen again. 

All of his sisters were definitely his biggest supporters growing up. 

“What're yer pronouns so I ken how to cuss ye out” type behavior 

The two of you have matching silly binders with fun patterns on them 

Soap is an irregular period haver, that shit has a schedule no man could figure out. He tries to track it, but it just happens whenever it wants and feels like it. 

Has had two periods in a month. 

Luckily they tend to be short. Unluckily they are heavy. Not really painful but just heavy. 

Gets super exhausted during his period. 

Military grade pain killers hit different 

Loves hand rubs because he has a bit of nerve damage after being a demolition expert for so long

He also has a significant amount of hearing loss on his left side so he always turns right when you're talking so he can hear better. 

Works out at the gym because he doesn't give a flying fuck. Definitely likes to be at home to work out tho because he can do pushups where your under him and he gets a lil kiss when he comes down. Sit ups get kisses too<3 

Had a transphobic bully in highschool and basically dedicated his free time to the gym. By the end of the second year he absolutely clocked the guy.

No one messed with him since. 

Soap who loves to draw you, has a notebook basically dedicated to you and every single way he could draw you (wink wonk)

Likes when you ruffle his mohawk 

Likes it more when it's after you squeeze his arms

He's a show off 💪:3💪

Soap deals with his dysphoria pretty well for the most part, although when he is dysphoric he works out a lot- and he seeks out your comfort. 

Those silly pairs of boxers make him less dysphoric, they make him feel more like the teenage boy he never really saw himself as. Has a pair that say choking hazard and he wiggles his eye brows every time he puts them on 

Literally one of the best hype men when your dysphoric he talks you up with the same energy of a frat boy psyching up his best pall

Gets oddly possessive when you wear his boxers (please do he loves it) like yeah that's right, that his man 

Nsfw//

Going off of the boxers thing it also makes his really horny 

Soap gets hard pretty easy tho, and the more comfortable he is with you the higher his sex drive. 

Absolutely worships you, especially when you're dysphoric, he loves nothing more than haveing you ride his thigh while he calls you his handsome man, his good boy. 

Soap loves to fuck you, soap “always strapped up” mactavish 

But he also likes period sex, he's kinda nasty, likes when it's messy regardless but period sex is extra messy. 

Absolutely finger blasts you till the towel looks like a war zone 💀 

Really likes to be fucked on his period too, he Letts you have a bit more control then normal but don't be fooled he's a power bottom at best. 

Likes to put his finger in your mouth and really loves when you bite em a little 

Soap dose not care about hair, he is pretty hairy himself although he is well groomed, but he honestly doesn't care. 

Will absolutely man handle you regardless of size, soap is a big man and he trains hard for those 💪💪

Really goes wild with the dirty talk

“Cannae even take my fingers? How'er ye supposed to take mah cock ey?”

The accent definitely gets thicker the more horny he gets 

Loves when you give his T-dick head because he also is shoving his fingers down your throat for the effect™

[marifilue]

Part 2: A Mission For Rogue

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader - Slow burn, no use of y/n, you have regenerative healing ability, skilled with guns and rifles, reader in her 50s but because of her ability looked like in her mid 20s. Logan is from the first X-Men movie era.

Warnings: Explicit language, Violence.

WC: 4,680

<- Part 1

Evening settled over Westchester Station, the sun dipping low as a cold night began to creep in. A faint haze hung above the tracks, softening the clamor of bustling commuters and casting a muted glow over the crowd. Logan and you moved through the crowds of people, his sharp gaze scanning for Marie, focused and vigilant. The team had agreed Logan would be the best to approach her because she trusted him. You stayed close by, Ororo and Scott guards the station pacing back and forth with coms device on their ear.

“She's on the train,” Charles’s voice echoed in both your minds, calm and certain. “I’ll check the first few cars,” you told him, meeting his gaze. “You take the back.” Logan gave a brief nod, his eyes steady as he turned to the nearest car just before it began to pull away.

The dim interior was quiet, only a handful of passengers scattered across the red leather seats. Logan’s gaze flicked across them until it landed on Marie, hunched over by a window, her green hoodie pulled tight, gloved hands clasped in her lap. She looked so small, shoulders pulled up as if to shield herself from the world.

Logan approached slowly “Hey, kid,” Logan called softly, his voice gentle yet firm. Marie’s head turned, her eyes widening as a flicker of relief crossed her face.

“You runnin’ again?” Logan asked as he took a seat next to her. Marie managed a faint nod, her gaze dropping.

“I heard… the Professor was mad at me,” she muttered, looking away.

"Well, who told you that?" Logan’s eyes flashed with a hint of anger at the thought, but his voice stayed soft. “A boy at school” Marie looked up sharply, her eyes guarded. "You think I should go back" She continue. "No I think you should follow your instincts." He says with slight of encouragement.

After you were sure Marie is not on the passenger carriages you've checked, you paced towards the back, hoping Logan already find her first, which he did. You caught a glimpse of him sitting next to Marie, deciding to keep a respectful distance, you stood a few chairs away, listening to their conversations.

Marie’s mouth trembled, and she let out a shaky breath. “The first boy I ever kissed…” Her voice cracked. “He ended up in a coma for three weeks. I can still feel him… in my head.”

Logan reached an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a reassuring side hug and gently squeeze her left shoulder. You stayed back, observing the unexpected gentleness in him. This morning you had assume he's just another grumpy guy, with his guards as thick as ever. He probably couldn't care less about anyone else in his life, but there he is. Proving your assumption was all wrong, again. Something in your heart softened with the way he's comforting a teenage girl he had met yesterday. He looked up briefly as the train rumble and caught your gaze, you offered him a slight smile, both for acknowledging his care and letting him know you were here.

As Marie leaned into his side, her tears leaving faint trails on her cheeks, he whispered, “There aren’t many people who’ll understand what you’re goin’ through. But Xavier’s one of ‘em. He actually wants to help. That’s rare, especially for people like us.”

Marie looked up at him, searching his face. Logan met her gaze with a quiet confidence. “Give these geeks one more shot, yeah?” He paused, adding softly, “C'mon I’ll take care of you.” He reached giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze one last time, and she nodded, wiping her eyes. “Promise?” she murmured. Logan nodded. “Yeah, I promise.”

After giving them a few minutes Logan's eyes find yours and gave you a small nod, a sign you can approach them now. You walk slowly before taking a seat across from them, catching her eye with a gentle smile. “Marie, you okay?” you asked quietly, wanting her to feel the team’s support. She gave you a small nod, visibly calmer now, though still vulnerable. “Good,” you said, reaching over to lightly pat her hand. “You’re safe with us. We’ve got you.”

Just then, the train gave a sudden, sharp lurch, rattling the carriage. Logan’s head whipped around, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the car for any signs of danger. You felt it too, a sudden unnatural tension in the air. The train door shuddered, then screeched open, metal bending under an invisible force. Magneto stepped through, his expression cold and calculated, his gaze zeroing in on Marie.

Logan shot up, moving in front of her in an instant, claws extending with a snikt. “Not today, Magneto,” he growled, placing himself between Marie and the older man. Magneto’s face was impassive as he lifted a hand, his voice smooth but forceful. “Move aside, Logan. The girl belongs with me.” Logan braced himself, but with a flick of Magneto’s fingers, he was yanked backward, his body slamming against the metal wall, pinned by Magneto’s power. Straining against the invisible hold, he grit out, “Marie, don’t listen to him.”

Magneto’s attention shifted to you, his brows raised slightly in amusement and with a blink he's dismissing you, pinning you to the side against the cold metal wall. Fuck you cursed under your breath as you remembered having a metal guns with you, strapped between your waist. Should've seen this coming and grab the plastics one you thought, seeing your stubborn head fighting back his strong force with gritted teeth, Magneto strip a piece of metal and lock your neck in place glued within the walls behind you. He's now focusing again on Marie. “They’re just using you,” he told her, his voice almost gentle. “With me, you don’t have to be afraid of your powers. I can teach you to control them to never hurt anyone again.”

Marie stared at him, wide-eyed, caught in a mix of fear and hesitation. Logan's voice broke through the tension, gruff but steady. "Kid, you want control? You've already got it. You just need the right people to help you and it's not him!" His shout echoed, but Magneto only scoffed, lifting a finger with chilling indifference. A thin slice of metal shot forward, pressing itself harshly over Logan's mouth, smothering his words into silence. His eyes blazed, defiant, but Magneto's sadistic gaze was fixed on him, unfazed. Without a word, he manipulated a jagged strip of steel to float between his fingers, then with a slight flick, split it cleanly into two, hovering the pieces in front of Logan's face as savoring the moment for his own sick twisted amusement.

Logan barely had a heartbeat to register what was coming. With brutal precision, the blunt ends of the steel impaled through the both of his palms, burying themselves into the wall behind him. His muscles tensed, body trembling, as blinding pain ripped through his hands, spreading like wildfire up his arms. His scream is muffled under the metal piece, leaving only his strangled, agonized breaths.

You watch in horror, unable to look away. Your neck was bound by a cold band of metal Magneto had twisted around your throat, tight enough to restrict your movements and there's barely a space for air, forcing you to stay still, vulnerable and helpless. It wasn't as brutal as Logan's suffering, but you could feel its cold bite against your skin, a constant reminder of your own fragility in Magneto's grasp. Your hands clenched into fists, nails biting into your palms, you scream for his name as his eyes widened with pain and fury, his silent agony twisting the insides of your stomach.

Magneto continue to extending a hand toward her. “Come with me, Marie. They can’t understand your potential. But I can.”

Her gaze flicked to Logan, then to you, poor girl didn't know what to do, she can't just attack him, it's not how her mutation works. “Marie,” you said gently, “you’re not alone. We’ll help you, just like we promised.” You said almost chocked by your own words as the grip tightened in your neck.

She took a step back, her shoulders squared with a new resolve. “I don’t want your help,” she said to Magneto, her voice shaking but determined. Magneto’s face darkened, his patience running thin. He gestured sharply, and metal restraints began to form around Marie, pulling her toward him. Panic flashed in her eyes as she struggled. “Marie!” You yelled, fighting against the magnetic hold.

The magnetic force on your neck faded, a harsh weight easing as Magneto took off into the distance, Marie in his possession. You drew in a shaky breath, adrenaline still pounding through your veins. Ignoring the pain in your own neck, you rushed to Logan, terror filling you as you saw his hands impaled to the wall, the steel pinning him in place with blood dripping staining the rusty metal. “Shit,” you muttered, reaching for the steel. “I’m so sorry, Logan. I’m sorry.” Your hands shook as you gripped the metal, pulling with all your strength, gritting your teeth against his muffled grunts of pain. “Hang on,” you whispered, glancing up to see the tight set of his jaw, his eyes locked on yours through the agony. You yanked the metal free with a final, determined pull, and instantly his hands started healing, the torn skin knitting itself back together as if it had never been wounded.

He flexed his hands, and for a moment, the raw tension between you eased. But his gaze shifted to your neck, where lines of red cuts were still visible from the steel that had choked you earlier. You could feel the wounds slowly healing, but it was nowhere near as fast as his. Logan’s eyes darkened as he took in the damage, and with a gentleness that surprised you, he reached up, brushing the tips of his fingers lightly along your throat. His voice softened, concern bleeding through his rough tone. “Does it always take this long for you?”

You forced a half-smile, shrugging as best you could without wincing. “Sorry, not everyone heals as fast as you,” you replied with a touch of sarcasm, hoping to deflect the sudden tension thrumming between you. His lips twitched, almost a smirk, but there was something deeper in his gaze, a quiet understanding, maybe even respect as he nodded. Before either of you could say more, the communicator crackled, Ororo’s voice breaking through.

If there's any new skills you've learned since joining the X-Men, it's pacing from one to another side of the building and change your clothes so quick into a, well kinda uncomfortable tight leather suit which offer enough protection. Even though you don't really need it, because even a bullet hit would just sting and not kill you but here you go, you just thought it would be cool to have a matching sets of suit with the team altogether.

“Logan?" Ororo voice surged, following her muttered your name. "We lost the signal. What’s going on?” Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned his attention to the comm. “He’s got her. Magneto took Marie.” A tense silence filled the line until Scott’s voice cut in, firm and unyielding. “We’ll head back to the mansion and planned further. Tell us your position.” You exchanged a look with Logan, determination settling in your eyes. “We’ll find her,” you said, your voice steady, your conviction mirroring his. A subtle, unspoken bond hung in the air between you, both knowing the chase was just beginning.

••••••••

In the equipment room, harsh lights cut across the space, casting sharp shadows that make the room look almost sterile. Steel racks line the walls, filled with various weapons and gadgets neatly arranged in their designated slots. It's cold here, the kind of chill that gets under your skin even if you don’t feel the temperature the same way most people do. You take a breath, inhaling the familiar scent of gun oil and leather, the kind of smell that would remind anyone else of trouble. For you, it’s just another day.

You stand in front of the rack, eyes scanning the gleaming rows of firearms before selecting your special pair. You reach for the twin plastic handguns. Sleek, black, well-maintained—feeling their familiar weight settle in your hands. They’re custom models, modified to go against magneto and obviously with accuracy and grip, with a dark matte finish to avoid glare. The barrels are slightly shorter than standard, making them easier to draw in tight situations, and the grips are textured to keep steady even under pressure. They fit perfectly in your hands, molded to your touch after years of training, of both sanctioned and unsanctioned missions.

As you secure each gun into its holster at your hips, there's a pang in your chest, a familiar bitterness. Guns have been a constant in your life, a tool you were taught to wield with precision and detachment. Yet, no matter how skilled you've become, there’s a shadow that lingers. You've used these weapons to save lives, but you've also used them to take lives, choices that weren't always yours to make.

Your time in the Marines was a relentless cycle of missions, one target after another, where you were pushed to the edge of your humanity, fuck they treated you as a tool because of what you could endure. The regenerative healing meant you could take the hits, walk into gunfire, and still pull the trigger. They called you the "Fire and Flesh" a title that left you both proud and hollow. The memories flicker in your mind as you load each plastic magazine with a kind of practiced ease, slotting a few extra rounds into a small black pouch strapped around your upper arm. You slip a few spare magazines in there, securing them in place as you mentally map out the ammo you'll need.

The guns may be tools, but they’re also symbols. Each grip, each click of a magazine, each time you pull them from your holsters, it reminds you of choices, of freedom and of restraint. And despite everything, you can’t deny the comfort they bring. With these, you’re in control, deciding when and where to draw the line. With an exhale, your hands resting on the metal grips. For better or worse, this is part of you.

You hear voices from across the room and glance over to see Scott handing Logan a black leather suit. Logan takes it with an exaggerated snort, holding it up and making a face as he examines it. "Really, Cyke? You want me to wear this?" His voice drips with sarcasm, but Scott just crosses his arms, standing firm. “It’s for disguise reasons, Logan,” Scott argues, his tone as flat as ever. “Blend in with the team. Makes us look united.”

You can’t help but chuckle, strolling over already wearing your own suit in. “C’mon, mutton chops. It’s just a little leather. Not like it’s gonna kill you,” Your voice has that teasing edge, enough to prod him a little without crossing the line.

Logan scowls, holding the suit like it's something foul he stepped in. He shakes his head, tossing it onto the table with a grunt. "Ain't wearin' this thing," he mutters, crossing his arms, stubborn as ever. Who the hell in their right mind would go out with that pair of jeans and old flannel into a fucking mission, we don't even know what awaits for us.

Scott sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Logan, it’s just a suit. The rest of us manage to get by without complaining."

"Yeah, well, the rest of you don’t mind bein’ squeezed like a sardine,” Logan shoots back. "I work better in my own gear."

You stifle a grin, watching the way he bristles. Real insufferable putting up a fight over a damn suit, and you have to admit, it’s a bit entertaining watching him pushing Scott's button. "Think of it as a team-bonding exercise. Or, you know, try not to embarrass us by showing up like some lumberjack out of place." Scott shot back as you parted your lips shocked by his insults.

Logan retort "What are you sayin man?" His eyebrows now knitted together taking a step closer to Scott. Before Scott could respond, Ororo and Jean stride in, their black suits sleek and professional, eyes sharp as they take in the standoff. “Oh, still fighting it, are we?” Ororo says with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her tone. She steps over to Logan, crossing her arms. “Logan, it’s a mission. Just wear the suit. You won’t die from being uncomfortable for a couple of hours.” Jean nods, giving him a half-smile. “It’s true, you know. Besides, it would be nice if we looked like a coordinated team for once. Right?” She casts a look around, her eyes landing on you and Scott for support.

Logan snorts, glancing from Jean to Ororo, then back at the suit. “Fine. But if this thing rips while I’m movin’, it’s on you, Cyke,” he growls, grumbling as he reluctantly picks up the suit and walk to a change room, muttering complaints the whole time.

The three of you share a look, trying not to laugh as Logan fumbles with the tight sleeves and zippers, clearly out of his element. Once he’s finally suited up, he shoots each of you a warning glare, as if daring anyone to comment. And with Logan finally in uniform, the team heads out together toward the Blackbird, looking like the united force Scott always hoped for, even if it took a little persuasion.

••••••••••

The night air was sharp and biting, the lights of New York City stretching out in the distance, casting a dim glow against the cloudy sky. The team had arrived at Liberty Island, a cold wind whipping around them as they approached the massive silhouette of the Statue of Liberty, rising majestically above the dark waters. Logan, you, and the rest of the team moved swiftly and quietly through the shadows, each one of you alert and on edge, sensing the danger looming just ahead.

The plan was simple but risky: Ororo would create a mist to obscure your movements, giving Logan and you the cover needed to enter the statue and reach Marie. Scott and Ororo would handle any defenses Magneto might have put up outside, keeping him distracted while the two of you located Marie and found a way to disable whatever device Magneto was planning to use to amplify her powers.

As you continued up through the statue’s dim interior, an old metal detector blocked your path. Logan strode through it, triggering an immediate blaring alarm. Unfazed, he extended all his claws and ripped the detector apart in one swift motion. Scott, startled by the noise, looked back just as Logan retracted his first and last claws, leaving only his middle one raised in Scott’s direction. Scott stifled a laugh, shaking his head in amusement before they both moved on, the brief humor a stark contrast to the tension surrounding them.

Logan’s expression was focused and grim, his gaze scanning every shadow, every corner, for signs of trouble. You kept pace beside him, your weapons drawn, every sense heightened. Each step took you closer to the top of the statue, where you could sense Magneto’s energy, a pulsing, unnatural presence hanging thick in the air. When you finally reached the observation deck, you spotted Marie in the distance, slumped against the metallic structure, her figure dwarfed by the massive machinery Magneto had built around her. The device loomed ominously, wires and metal snaking around her like a cage, amplifying her powers without her control. She looked small and fragile, her skin pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, unconscious but alive.

Logan took one look at her and gritted his teeth. “Stay close,” he muttered to you, his claws extending with a soft snikt. “We’re getting her out of this.”

Just as you began to approach Marie, a powerful magnetic force slammed into both of you, sending you skidding backward. Magneto appeared on the platform, his gaze cold and unyielding, blocking the path between you and Marie. His voice echoed through the space, mocking and confident. “You really thought you could take her from me?” he sneered, raising a hand as metal shards hovered around him, glinting menacingly in the dim light.

Logan snarled, launching himself forward, claws extended. But with a flick of Magneto’s wrist, he was halted midair, the metal in his body binding him in place. You raised your weapon, aiming for Magneto’s exposed chest, but he caught sight of it and twisted his hand, forcing the weapon from your grasp and pinning you against the cold metal wall with a jagged piece of railing.

“Enough games,” Magneto said, turning his attention back to Marie. He began to activate the machine, its hum growing louder as power surged through its structure. Logan struggled against his restraints, fury blazing in his eyes as he watched Marie’s life slipping away, her body starting to weaken under the machine’s grip.

Just then, Ororo’s voice crackled over the communicator, barely audible over the machine’s hum. “Hold on, we’re almost there,” she said, her tone filled with urgency. In a flash of lightning, she and Scott burst onto the observation deck, Ororo unleashing a gust of wind that knocked Magneto back a few steps. Scott took the opening, firing an optic blast that shattered the device’s control panel, sending sparks flying across the room.

With the machine momentarily disrupted, the magnetic force binding Logan and you released, dropping you both to the ground. You staggered to your feet, wincing from the impact, but Logan didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, making his way to Marie as fast as he could, pushing past the debris and machinery in his path.

Reaching her side, Logan dropped to his knees, gathering her limp form into his arms. Her skin was cold, her pulse weak, but she was still breathing. He pulled her close, knowing he had to act fast. Without hesitating, he pressed his cheek to hers, allowing his healing power to transfer, knowing it was the only way to save her.

The process was agonizing. You watched as Logan’s skin paled, his breaths growing ragged as his energy drained into Marie, reviving her but weakening him. Marie’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused and scared, but slowly, she began to recognize him. She reached out, her gloved fingers gently brushing his face as she whispered, “Logan…”

Just as Marie started to regain her strength, you saw Logan’s energy faltering, his grip on her loosening as his wounds reappeared, reopening as his body sacrificed itself to save hers. But he didn’t pull away, even as his breaths grew shallow, determined to make sure she was safe, no matter the cost.

Finally, the machine gave a final, deafening crackle as Ororo and Scott managed to destroy it completely, its lights dimming as it shut down for good. Magneto, realizing his defeat, retreated into the shadows, his figure vanishing as he made his escape. You hurried to Logan and Marie, relief flooding you as you saw color returning to her cheeks, her breaths becoming steady and strong again.

Logan, however, was on the brink of exhaustion, barely able to stay conscious. You reached out, steadying him, offering him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “You did it,” you murmured, watching as Marie slowly came back to full awareness, glancing between you both with gratitude and a touch of awe.

With Magneto’s plan thwarted and Marie safe, you all made your way back down the statue, the midnight air now filled with the quiet comfort of victory. And as you helped Logan to his feet, his strength gradually doesn't seem to return any soon, you exchanged a look, knowing this was only the beginning of the battles yet to come but for tonight, we won.

The interior of the Blackbird was dimly lit, the faint hum of machinery echoing through the cabin. Logan wandered through the narrow aisles, his feet heavy, as if they were laden with lead. He fought against the growing urge to succumb to sleep, his body weary from the night’s chaos. The adrenaline that had kept him alert during the fight was fading, leaving him feeling unsteady. Each step felt like a monumental effort, his eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

Just as he reached the back of the aircraft, the world blurred around him, and he staggered before collapsing against the cold metal wall. A sharp gasp echoed through the cabin, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

••••••••

Sixteen hour passed which Logan had spent being unconscious, a concern rippled through the team as they gathered outside the medbay. Inside, where Logan lay on the bed with thin cushion. Jean was monitoring his vital signs, her brow furrowed with worry. She looked up, meeting the anxious gazes of yours.

“He’s stable,” Jean assured, glancing at the screen displaying Logan’s steady heart rate. “Just needs rest.”

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, your heart heavy as you watched the man who had prove himself to be become a reluctant mentor, a fierce protector, and a complicated friend in such a short time. “I still can’t believe what happened yesterday,” you said, breaking the silence. “Magneto... he impaled him with a steel in the train wall." Jean nodded, her expression contemplative. “That kind of injury would take a toll on anyone. But with his healing factor, he’ll bounce back. He’s been through worse.”

You couldn’t help but fascinated by Logan’s resilience. “He told me he’s nearly 170 years old,” you murmured, glancing at Logan’s still form. “Can you imagine how much pain he’s endured in all that time? I mean, he might’ve fought in World War I. Who knows what he’s experienced?” You thought to yourself, because from your personal experience, being alive for half a century is miserable enough. Twenty years under the military command which you just gained a freedom from three years now. This guy is almost two century. Jean listened intently, her focus unwavering. “It’s hard to fathom,” she agreed. “He’s been through more than most could bear. But he’s still here, still fighting.”

The two of you continued to speak softly, unaware that Logan’s ears were attuned to your voices, even in his unconscious state. The warmth of your words and concern seeped into him, grounding him despite the darkness. After what felt like an eternity, Jean stood to stretch her legs, casting a final glance at Logan. “I’ll be right back,” she said softly, stepping out of the lab.

As soon as she left, you took a deep breath, the weight of the past hours crashing down on you. You approached Logan, your heart racing as you exhaled, “We still need you here, Wolverine.” The words escaped your lips, raw and sincere, a plea for him to return to you and the team.

To your surprise, a faint whisper broke the silence. “M not goin' anywhere, Hollow.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned, eyes wide in disbelief. Logan's eyes fluttered open, glimmering with the remnants of pain yet fierce determination. You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, embarrassment washing over you as you instinctively moved to help him sit up. “Logan! You’re awake!”

He winced slightly but managed a weak grin. “Where’s Marie?” he asked, his voice hoarse but laced with concern. “Still recovering,” you replied quickly. “She’s been a bit off since everything. Picking up your behavior all morning, actually.” A small smile tugged at Logan’s lips. “She’s got grit,” he murmured, his eyes shining with pride.

Just then, the door swung open, and Professor Xavier entered the medbay, his wheelchair gliding smoothly across the floor. “Welcome back, Logan. I’m glad you’re still with us.”

“Yeah, me too,” Logan replied, stealing a glance at you. His smile widened just a fraction, a hint of gratitude in his expression, making your heart swell with relief. In that moment, the weight of fear and worry began to lift, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie and hope. You all knew the battles weren’t over, but with Logan back on his feet, the fight continued.

Part 3 ->

AN: Whooo here we go fellas, I think I've wrapped the introduction now. Be prepared because we're heading for the next chapter where the summary would take place. Thank you for reading and interacting <3

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series

Omega Part 1

Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed | Fury

A/n: This mini-ish series will take place from season 2-3. Also just a disclaimer I’m not POC and when i write i always imagine myself in the situation I’m writing and then describe it accordingly of course i will do my absolute best to keep this inclusive for everyone however if i make a mistake please feel free to let me know! This is also my first ever x reader story, I’ve always done OCs when writing on other platforms so be patient with me please! Thank you and love you guys! <3

Prompt: after everything that happened with Peter had finally been resolved it was time to watch over Lydia, unfortunately not everything goes to plan.

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You were sitting in the hospital waiting room with Stiles, who was unfortunately snoring and very clearly dreaming about Lydia. Stiles rolled over in the chair, mumbling some nonsense you could care less about. However, it still made you chuckle, he’s been in love with her since you could remember and while you wished he would just leave it alone you knew he couldn’t.

Melissa walked through the door with Lydia’s father, he glanced at you and Stiles before pointing to you guys, “He’s been here all morning.” Melissa’s eyes met where the man was looking, “He’s been here all weekend.”

You chuckled and looked over to Stiles just in time to see him unknowingly freak out a poor staff lady with his sleep talking, “Sorry, he’s little… well as you can see, an odd sleeper.” She rolled her eyes before walking away, clearly not wanting to be bothered. You bumped Stiles in the stomach with your elbow and he shook awake making the balloon that was tied to the chair swish in his face.

“I’m going to get going, I’m exhausted and these chairs were not made for sleeping, even though you seem to have figured it out.” He glared at you before sitting up completely, “Did you want me to drive you home?”

You shook your head slightly, “No, don’t worry about it, Melissa’s house isn’t too far from here and I could use the fresh air after everything that’s happened.” He nodded understanding what you meant, from Scott’s werewolf problems, to Peter being an absolute menace to our grade point averages, and to top it all off your new abilities that awoke when Scott was bitten (you guys still have no idea what it is), it seemed that you guys didn’t even have time to breathe for a while.

“I’m just going to let Melissa know that I’m heading home and then I’ll be on my way,” You smiled and with a wave exchange between the both of you, you turned and made your way to the front door, where Melissa was standing behind the desk. You gave your parting words and she gave the motherly warning of “be careful” that you’re beyond used to at this point.

You see you are Y/N L/N, no relation to Melissa McCall or her son that you’ve known since you learned to talk, but your parents were in some accident when you were little and from then on Melissa and Sheriff Stilinksi took care of you. At first it was just them switching off every few weeks, then after Scott’s dad left you stayed exclusively with the Sheriff and when Melissa was able to move on from that event she took you in completely. You’ve been with her ever since, Stiles and Scott were like your brothers, always there for you when you needed it. Never made you feel like you were the odd one out, even though you were. That didn’t matter though, because you had all you needed, the perfect family in your eyes.

Your thoughts got interrupted by the sound of a machine, you turned your head in the direction of the sound only to realize you had reached the cemetery without realizing and it was Isaac Lahey working the machine. ‘His dad must’ve made him work a night shift, again.’

You actually knew the boy pretty well, you were in Chemistry together, even had a project you two were paired together for. He was such a sweet guy, insanely cute too although that you would never admit to anyone but yourself.

You knew to a slight degree of what his dad has done to him, you wanted to tell someone but the tall boy had a panic attack at just the thought of the idea. He said it was because if things were to go wrong he couldn’t bare the thought of his dad trying to hurt you.

You decided you were gonna stop by and keep him company for a while before making your way back home. You walked into the dark graveyard, making your way towards the rig that Isaac sat on so clearly focused on his work. He only noticed you when you raised your hand in the air and let your voice ring out.

“You seem quite focused over there, you wouldn’t mind some company, right?” You questioned with a slight smile on your face.

You could see his eyes just so slightly light up to the point where you could’ve probably made yourself believe you imagined it. “No, no, I wouldn’t mind, so long as you don’t mind being slightly uncomfortable in this one person seat.” He smiled so softly and you have to admit it made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

You put your hand over your heart and with a sarcastic look and tone you gasped, “Oh no, stuck in a one person seat with the ever so charming, Isaac Lahey? How ever will I cope?” He chuckled at your response and reached a hand out for you to take.

“Thank you my dear Prince Charming.” You said with a fake accent.

“Prince Charming, huh?” He inquired while holding onto your hand. You smiled and gave him a proud nod, “Yep, only a prince would allow a peasant like me to sit in this amazing contraption.” You gestured to the yellow machinery. He huffed amusedly before silently going back to his work and for the next ten minutes you both just basked in each other’s presence. You looked down and saw your hands still interlocked, you could almost feel your heart stop in that moment. Without even thinking more about it, you gave Isaac’s hand a small squeeze and right away you felt him squeeze your hand back.

You looked up at him, “Hey Isaac?”

��Yes, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I just was wondering if maybe you-”

Your phone rang before you even got a chance to finish, you sighed and gave him an apologetic look to which he shrugged it off in a light hearted manner. You looked down at your phone, which was still ringing, only to see a name that instantly made you worry.

Stiles?

Why would he be calling right now?

You answered the phone, only to hear the stuttering and chaotic mess that is the young Stilinksi boy, “Y/N!” You pulled the phone away from your ear, it caused Isaac’s head to snap to you, his eyebrow raised.

“Stiles, what could you possibly need right now, I’m kind of busy,” You huffed.

“LYDIA!”

“Lydia? What about Lydia?”

“She just left out the hospital window!” Your eyes widened, “She WHAT?”

“Yeah you heard me, look I’m gonna come get you, Scott already knows so we’ll regroup and find her.”

“There’s no need to come get me, I’m not that far right now, I’ll be there soon and then we can get Scott,” you glanced at Isaac hoping he wouldn’t be upset at the situation but he just gave you a look that said ‘it’s alright, I understand’ and you knew it would be okay.

“How are you not home yet?”

You sighed, “Now’s not the time, okay I’ll explain to you later.” You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone.

“Isaac, I’m really sorry but I have to go it’s an emergency,” you looked at him as he gave you a slight wave off, “It’s alright, I’ll see you at school.” You gave him a smile and without a second thought you kissed him on the cheek and hopped off the rig, starting your jog back to the hospital. “I’ll see you at school!”

Little did you know, you left the tall boy slightly red with his hand on his cheek.

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a/n: andddd that’s part one, i thought about doing the full episode in one part but i feel like that’s a lot to read over. Tbh none of this has been read over either lol ANYWAYS let me know what you think and if you see any mistakes let me know!

[hawkeyetrained]

You Can Trust Me

Derek Hale x Fem!reader

Other Characters: Kate Argent, Scott, Malia, Stiles (mentioned), Lydia (mentioned), Braeden (mentioned)

Warnings: slight spoilers for s4ep1&2, cannon level violence (though nothing too graphic at all)

Summary: When Derek gets turned back into his younger self, she promises he can trust her.

Word count: 2594

Scott, Stiles, and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. I moved into town when I was just 10 years old, instantly becoming friends with the two. That’s how I met Derek Hale, and how our crazy involvement with the supernatural began.

Derek and I had a different relationship than the rest of the pack. He would often keep me in the loft if the current threat ever got too close, opting to have Peter stay back and keep an eye on me instead of allowing me to help like Stiles. For the last few years, the crush I had on Derek only grew stronger and Lydia was the first to call me out on it. When we were sitting in the loft for one of our pack meetings, she had noticed how I tuned Scott out as he talked but instantly focused on Derek when he spoke. She had nudged my side, making my cheeks burn pink, and later took me out for dinner to talk about what she saw.

We talked at the diner for more than two hours about my crush, going into detail on everything that she could get from me. I had her sworn to secrecy to not tell anyone for fear that he would completely reject me.

So, while broken down on the side of a road in Mexico, she had stuck to my side in an attempt to keep me calm. Stiles was busy fixing his Jeep, Malia and Kira keeping watch on the sand around us, while Lydia and I tried to attempt helping Stiles. Scott had gone off with a woman named Brayden in search of Derek, promising to be back by morning.

I spent the night sitting on the ground by the front tire of Roscoe, Stiles’ jeep. Lydia kept sending glances my way all night, but I ignored her until I was able to see the motorcycle coming back down the road just after sunrise.

Scott had jumped off to grab my arms, pulling me off to the side. “Hey, he’s alright, but something happened in that church. Derek, he’s different.”

“What do you mean?” I tried pulling away only for Scott to stop me. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what happened.” Scott shrugged. “Something changed him, made him younger.”

I spent the entire ride home in the back of Stiles’ jeep, worrying over Derek and wondering why he wasn’t waking up. Once we got back, we went to Deaton’s office first. Scott had called ahead, letting the doctor know about our situation and to see if there was anything he could do to help. Once we got Derek inside and laid on the exam table, everyone watched as Deaton worked for a few minutes on checking for anything unusual, and once coming up empty handed, he sent everyone home for school in a few hours.

“Someone should stay here with him.” Scott mumbled to the group as we turned to leave.

“I think it should be Y/N.” Lydia said, stopping in her tracks.

“What?” I looked up at her. “Why me?” My cheeks were stained a soft pink.

“Out of all of us, you and Derek were closest. And he trusts you the most.” She explained. “When he wakes up, I’m sure he’s going to be confused. You’ll be the only face he’d want to see.” Everyone seemed to agree with her, so they headed out to gather their things for school while I went back into the exam room to join Deaton.

It seemed like hours passed since my friends had left. Deaton had continued to check on Derek when he needed breaks from his paperwork in his office. I had sat myself down in one of the plastic chairs, pulled up beside the table, my arms crossed on the metal surface with my head resting on them. My phone would occasionally go off with a text message, one of the pack members checking in, but there was never much to say other than a finger twitch or a deeper breath than I had been listening to all day.

Deaton had come back in yet again to check on Derek, but this time, the young wolf’s eyes snapped open, his body launching up into a seated position. The doctor had been fast enough to grab my arms and yank me back before I was swiped at by a clawed hand. The boy’s eyes softened ever so slightly when he got a look at our faces and heard our racing heartbeats, but it wasn’t long before he was running out of the clinic.

Stiles and Scott were able to get Derek from the police station hours after he ran from the clinic, the three of us headed towards Scott’s house. Scott’s phone buzzed in his pocked and he told us how he had to go take care of something, leaving Stiles and I alone with Derek.

Derek had seemed apprehensive about following Stiles into the McCall house, but a soft smile and a few encouraging words from me and helped him follow us inside. “Scott?” An older male’s voice called from the kitchen.

Stiles and I shared a worried look, and before we could turn around and get out, Scott’s father showed up in the doorway with a paper bag held in his hand. “Um, hi.” I greeted, offering a slightly awkward wave.

“Stiles. Y/N.” Mr. McCall nodded to us. “Who’s your friend?”

My eyes flashed to Derek, trying to think of a believable excuse. “He’s my cousin.” Stiles blurted out, wrapping an arm around Derek’s shoulders. “My cousin Miguel.” Both Derek and I looked to Stiles to see if he was serious or not, and to our horror, he was completely serious.

We were all quickly pulled into the worst dinner of our lives. Scotts father continuously asked Derek questions, obviously seeing right through Stiles’s lie, but Derek was able to play along. I ate a little food before excusing myself and heading up to Scott’s room, wanting to call him and warn him of his father being home.

I barely managed to send the text before the door was being pushed open. “Y/N?” I recognized Derek’s voice as he called out, not wanting to startle me.

“Yeah, come in.” I smiled at the Hale boy, sliding my phone into my back pocket, and sitting down on Scott’s bed. “How are you holding up?” I asked him as he sat down beside me, leaving more space than usual between us.

Derek shrugged. “It’s all so confusing.”

“Is there anything I can try to help with?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders again. “I don’t even know what to ask. I mean, you three look at me like you know who I am, but I’ve got no idea who you are.”

A deep sigh left my nose as I adjusted, pulling my legs up under me and turning to face him. “You’re Derek Hale. You’ve helped us through a lot recently, taught all of us a lot of things about the supernatural world.” His dark eyes lifted up to watch me. “You’ve saved all of us too many times to count. It’s been a hard few years for all of us.”

“If I’m going to be honest, I’m a little scared.” His voice dropped to a whisper, almost like he didn’t want anyone hearing his confession. “I woke up in a strange place, surrounded by strange people, in a city that doesn’t even have my home, and no one will tell me what happened. I don’t know who to trust.”

My fingers twitched together nervously. “I know how scary that must be, but I can tell you one thing. You can trust me. It’s gotta be weird having people know you without you knowing them, but we are actually really good friends. You’ve watched out for me since we met. Let me help watch out for you until we can figure out how to help you.”

“I can trust you.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, more so a way for himself to finally believe it.

The window creaked from behind Derek, alerting both of us. Derek’s arm had crossed protectively over me as he turned to look for the cause of the sound, something he did normally that was showing through his younger self. “Kate?” Derek’s eyes adjusted to the dark of the night faster than mine, but I was able to see her climbing through the window.

“Hey, handsome.” She greeted with a smile. “Been a long time.” Right, Peter killed her, or so we had thought. “Longer than you think.” Her eyes flashed back to me as both Derek and I stood from the bed, my feet automatically drifting closer to Derek’s side. “Aww, little Y/N, still playing shadow?” She taunted, a sick smile on her face before she came closer.

Derek didn’t tense up like he typically does. Instead, he stayed pretty relaxed, making me think that younger Derek had known Kate better than I thought he did. “Derek.” I shrunk closer to him as she got closer to me, not trusting Kate at all after what Peter had done to her.

His hand flexed at his side a little, like he wanted to do something but couldn’t think of why or what to do. “Still scared hun?” Kate stalked closer, ultimately putting herself between Derek and me. “He doesn’t even know you sweetheart.” As she continued to draw closer and closer in the dark room, I had taken steps back, trying to keep as much space between her and I as I could. “He knows me. He can trust me.” My heart started to race, images of her clawed hand swiping at my throat flashing through my head, eyes frantically flickering between her and Derek as I backed up.

In a blur, one of her hands had enclosed around my throat, holding me still and putting just enough pressure to where I was uncomfortable. “Kate, please. Let me go.” My hands reached up to try prying at her fingers, but I was no match for her newfound strength.

“Kate.” Derek’s voice growled out from behind her in a warning. “Let her go.”

A sick smile crossed her face. “If you say so.” Her hand slipped from my throat and just a second after my eyes met Derek’s, she had kicked her boot into my chest and send me stumbling back into Scott’s adjoining bathroom. The door slammed shut and I could hear something being pressed against the outside of the door.

“No.” I scrambled into my knees. “Derek!” I call, banging on the door. “Kate, let me out.” I could hear muffled voices of her and Derek going back and forth, a little worry in the boy’s voice as he said my name. “Derek don’t listen to her. Don’t go anywhere with her. You can’t trust her.”

Minutes of silence passed by before whatever was leaned against the door was pulled away and the door swung open. Stiles stood on the other side, phone pressed to his ear. I rushed out of the room, frantically looking around for Derek, but the still open window confirmed my worry. “Calm down.” Stiles tried.

“Kate took him.” I looked back at Stiles. “Kate took Derek. Ask Scott where she would take him.” My hands grabbed the keys to Stiles’s jeep from his hands before I raced down the stairs and out to the car. I jumped into the passenger seat as Stiles came chasing after me, getting into the already running car and heading towards the school.

He managed to pull up quick enough, letting me jump out and meet Scott and Malia while he went off to delay Scott’s dad. “Hey, calm down.” Scott pressed his hands to my shoulders.

“Kate took him and somehow managed to age him back, before kidnapping him, again. I can’t stay calm Scott. What if she kills him?”

“I don’t think that’s what she’s going to do.”

“Scott.” Malia called from the stairs going up to the second floor of the school. “Scott, what’s that smell?”

Chris Argent had told me stories of some of the supernatural beings he had faced in the past. I tried to check up on him as much as I could after Allison died. I didn’t have a father myself and I had seen him as a fatherly figure since Allison and I had become friends. This creature though, he didn’t have a lot to say on it, other than the fact that they were pretty much soulless creatures that were practically invincible. Berserkers seemed to scare the older Argent man, and so they scared me. I never thought I’d face one, let alone be running from one as my friends battled the other.

I had managed to put enough distance between myself and the one chasing me, but the one that Malia and Scott had been focused on caught me by surprise. It’s thick, bone covered hand swept out just as I was running past, sending me flying across the school floor and sliding up against the lockers in a corner not far from my friends.

Both of the berserkers faces locked on me, slowly creeping closer. “Scott!” I shouted, cowering as far as I could into the corner of lockers. “Scott!” Before any of their hands were able to grab at me, a large shadow managed to knock both away from me. The berserkers went after the shadow, giving Scott and Malia enough time to come to my sides and pull me to my feet.

Once the shadow was able to scare off the berserkers, it stood to it’s full height and turned to face us. Derek, as we knew him, stood in front of us, panting slightly from the fight and running all the way up to us. “Derek?” Scott was the first to ask, holding onto my shoulder.

His eyes locked on my face, and with a subtle nod, I was running across the hall over to him. Derek’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist as I threw my arms around his shoulders. He was back, after months of wondering what happened to him and the past few hours trying to convince him that we were friends, he was back.

“Are you ok?” I asked as I took a step back. “What happened to you?”

“Kate broke into the loft and shot me with wolfsbane. I don’t remember much after that.” His hands had yet to leave my waist as his head came to rest against mine. “All I remember is that I can trust you. I did, I do trust you.”

A breathy laugh escaped my nose as he tipped his head down to press his lips against mine softly. My fingers drifted from his shoulders to his hair, pulling him closer to me. His hands tightened their hold around my waist, slowly wrapping his arms around me completely.

A cough pulled the two of us apart, my cheeks flushed a bright pink as I glanced up into his eyes. “Guys.” Scott spoke, his feet shuffling loudly against the hall floors. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Go.” Derek told him. “We’re right behind you.” I could faintly hear Scott and Malia walk down the stairs, back towards the front of the school. “Come with me.” Derek didn’t ask, seemingly already knowing my answer when I linked my hand tightly in his. “You can trust me.”

A bright smile covered my face. “And you can trust me.”

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

[mysticallystilinski]

camping with stiles slow burn smut ?

sparks | s. stilinski x fem!reader | smut

summary: playing with fire is guaranteed to get you burnt, but in this situation you wouldn’t mind getting a little spicy.

warnings: swearing, slight angst, y/n being super sensitive and tons of smut

a/n: { first smut i’m posting on here, and it obvi has to be about stiles! hope you enjoy love <3 }

“NO NO NO HELL NO.” you exclaim while spotting the spider on the lower half of your sleeping bag. “there is absolutely no fucking way i’m going to sleep here tonight.” you yelled once again. “y/n, can you ever just shut the fuck up?” stiles exclaims. how about you shut the fuck up you fuck face. having the spend the night with stiles wasn’t ideal, but you thought you could work it out. seems to be that your idea was wrong, and you are going to curse yourself for the next 12 hours of your life.

“now who’s quiet?” stiles says with a sly smirk on his face. 11 hours 38 minutes. that is the amount of time until you are back in your nice and cozy bed in beacon hills. for now you are stuck up in the woods, with no cell service, and absolutely no way to get out of this seem to be bonding moment with stiles; set up by the pack in efforts to make you two get along. kira and scott have been planning it since the day you two met. that day was the beginning of the bickering of your ‘enemyship’ as lydia says.

“maybe i wouldn’t be so quiet, if it wasn’t for you always being so obnoxious.” you spit out. his face contorts into a seemingly frown until the brunette starts to wheeze. “you really thought you did something y/n.” he says without failure of his laugh. his laughter echoed the quiet woods and god did you want to kill him. 11 hours and 20 minutes. “please just leave me alone the rest of the trip, that’s something that would really help.” you say.

without effort, stiles made you upset once again. you don’t know if it was the intention or just a joke but damn did it really hurt. without saying anything else you head into your camping bag and shut the zipper as quick as you possibly can. it was embarrassing enough being on this trip with him, but for him to see you cry because of his words was a whole other thing. you sit in your camping bag and it seemed to be dead silent. finally, no stiles, and only 11 hours and 15 minutes left of this stupid fucking trip. being caught in your own thoughts didn’t help you realize that the camper has been opened once again and a seemingly apologetic stiles was on the other side.

“hey, i’m sorry for before, i didn’t mean to make you upset.” he said apologetically. that was really sweet; oh shut up it probably was one of his other jokes. “no it’s seriously fine, don’t worry about it.” you say with snide in your voice. “geez y/n, i didn’t mean anything by it, maybe you should stop being so sensitive by everything” while he whispers the last part. “oh my fucking god.. it’s not my fault i have to be stuck in here with you” you say as you stand up from your place on the hard ground. “you seriously always seem to be a dick around me, and i never did anything to you.” your voice starts to raise as his eyes lower upon onto you.

“it’s not my fault you’re like obsessed with me or something” he laughs. “jesus stiles. are you really that full of yourself?” you laugh back. your hands start the clench as the anger inside you builds up second by second. steam seems to be flowing out of you being his eyes start to widen as your voice heightens. “SERIOUSLY PLEASE STILES GET A FUCKING LIFE.” you retort. all that goes through your head is how much you hate ruin and wish you would have never agreed to this.

his mind was filled with other things, things like what positions he could take you in or how hot you seemed to be when you were mad. he wanted to just let you keep talking forever at that rate because of how much it turns him on. “can i show you how much i hate you?” you say trying to walk off. you were quickly shown that he didn’t want you to leave because you felt a heavy tug on your hand from his.

stiles pulled you into him and placed his soft lips onto yours. he kissed you with passion and lust, adoringly with poison. he just wanted to touch you, so that’s what he did. he placed his hands upon your ass, but you didn’t seem to mind as you kissed him back with as much lust as he did. it was inevitable, you two getting together. the pack spotted the tension from day one of meeting you; even if that tension was anger at first.

you pulled back, out of breath in attempt to say something, anything. you were about to scold stiles and ask what the hell he was doing but he pulled you right back in again. with no hesitation he pulled back and sat on the floor waiting for you to join him. he pulled off his dark red flannel and his undershirt in a slight struggle. you watched his attempt and chuckled, wow stiles still clumsy while trying to fuck me. you took the bottom of his shirt and lifted it above his head easily. he looked back up at you with lust and him being slightly out of breath from that action.

in attempts to keep the mood you slowly took of your tank top; just leaving you in nothing but a lace bra and your skirt. his breath staggered at the sight of you, so he took your hand and pulled you down onto his lap. he immediately looked into your eyes then pulled you in to kiss you. his hands daringly caressed your body in attempts to feel your every curve and crevice. don’t get it wrong, you loved making out with stiles but something just felt off. maybe it was the clothes still on you.

you stopped kissing him and lead his hands to the band of your skirt. you waited for him to pull it down but he didn’t get the cue; so you had to manually put his hands and pull down your skirt. he did it with ease, skillfully. “nice moves stilinski.” you huff out. he gradually stops pulling down your skirt to say “do you wanna do it yourself?”. “maybe i will.” you say. you place your hands onto the floor to get up but he pulls you back in and starts to finish what he was doing before.

this time your skirt comes off quickly with ease and no hesitation from the one doing it. you were left in just panties and your lacy bra. he threw your skirt on the other side of the camping bag and it left a thump in the quiet of night. you couldn’t help but feel so bare when he only has his shirt off so you had an idea. “stand up”, you say. he quickly gets up off the floor and stands on the hard ground. you slightly crawl over to him in attempts to get closer to his dirty jeans.

you take one hand and grip onto his belt and the other to undo it. you heard him breathe in sharply and quickly exhale as his belt buckle soon becomes undone. you see out of the corner of your eye, his hand running through his soft hair. you unbutton his pants and quickly pull them down to the bases of his ankles. you pull back away from him, signaling for him to finish the rest. he steps out of his pants and heads back to the ground in only his boxers.

you were quick to get back on top of him and start to kiss him. your mouth lands farther and farther from his mouth to his neck. you slightly suck on his pale neck in attempts to make love bites. stiles exhales in and out, trying to be quiet but you want him to show you how much he wants you. you unlatch from his skin, “show me how much you want me stiles.” he pushes you slightly off of him and turns you onto your back. his body presses against yours and you can feel his hard bulge through the thin layers of underwear.

his breath gets caught in his throat as he places his lips onto yours. he forces his body down yours as his lips get closer, and closer to your pussy. once he arrives, he pushes your body up in attempt to get your underwear off your body, and it works. he slides your panties off with ease. stiles discards them to the other side of the tent, and sets his eyes back onto you. his eyes begin the pulsate as he lowers his head towards your soaking wet cunt. in a quick second, with no hesitation he latched his rough lips onto your pussy. you gasped in a sharp breath out of shock as he dives his tongue around your throbbing clit. your thighs sucked his head in deeper as your begging moans made it clear he should continue.

“stiles please, oh my god,” you say in a quick breath. he hums to your cunt and you can feel the chuckle pulsate throughout your delicious body. his mind was focused on pleasing you, while yours was set on finishing. he made it clear, he wasn’t going to stop until you came on his face. your moans became louder as the slim boy devoured his way through your soaking wet folds and all around your pussy. he gripped on your ass for support as he began to go deeper and deeper. you felt as though this couldn’t get any better, and your high was approaching.

stiles unlatched from your pussy, “what the fuck stilinski?”, you yell; clearly out of breath from this devilish act. as soon as you were gonna retort again, he stuck a finger into you. you huffed out a loud sigh in release. he slowly pumped his long finger in and out of you. you could see his devilishly hot smirk on his face as he began to pump it faster. he soon added a second finger into the mix and went down on you once again. “stiles, please oh my god go deeper,” you moan out. stiles starts to go deeper with the two fingers, while his mouth works on your throbbing clit.

you feel your high begin to almost release as the fingers and tongue are enough to make you start to shake. “stil- stiles,” you say while being out of breath. your legs start to clench around his body as he continues to go at a fast pace. it drive you absolutely wild, at how good he was at this. your high was close to hitting, so when he stuck a third finger in you near close to screamt. you were a moaning mess, and very messy. stiles unlatched his mouth from your cunt and you say gleaming cum all over his face. “jesus y/n, you did so good,” he said while being out of breath.

he was such a sight, messy hair, and puppy dog eyes. “now it’s my turn for me to please you”, and without hesitation you pushed stiles onto his back and hovered against his boxers. you grabbed the waistband and started to pull them down to his ankles. you took his cock into your hand and started to slowly pump it. you took one finger and slid it across the tip. stiles huffed out in pleasure as you aligned the tip with your cunt and slowly lowered yourself down onto it. you felt him instantly fill you up. he soon was deep inside you, and it felt magical. you didn’t mind the slow thrust of stiles going deep inside you.

“oh my god y/n, you feel so good,” stiles has to exclaim. your cheeks began to be rosy by overstimulation, and the fact that he’s praising you. you began to force yourself to go deeper. he felt so good inside you. he wanted more, he began to thirst his hips deeper to gain the maximum amount in you. “stiles, i love how this feels,” you groan out. you felt his cock start to twitch inside, so you started to grind upon him. his moans began to be louder as you clenched yourself around his base. “y/n please, i’m about to cum,” and as soon as he said it you felt him unleash his load into you. at the very same time you began to convulse and feel your orgasm approach you once again. “stiles- oh my god,” you say. stiles felt the same amount of bliss you did in that very moment, and maybe even more. as soon as you approached your finish, you slowly got off of him and fell against the bottom of the floor.

“you good?”, he says calmly. “yes i’m so good”, you say slyly. 10 hours and 20 min. “so are we good y/l/n?”, he smirks. “very good,” you laugh. you seem to feel calm and safe around him suddenly. his smirk was just too cute and too hard not to kiss. you reached in again and placed your lips onto his. he smiled into the kiss and raveled his fingers into your hair. why do i have to feel this way about him. you pulled back from this kiss just to see his pretty smirk, and you did.

10 hours, maybe i should just go camping once again with stiles. i wouldn’t mind. even if he is a dick, i’d like to suck his for once.



[lovelyinconsistentices]

°˖➴ 𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙸𝙽𝚃 ⋆· ༘ *

‧₊˚ ꩜彡┆𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈 .ᐟ

Ftm reader x Lucas Lee, fluff. Now that Scott is back, the show must go on. This time at the Rockit, a new band is introduced. Unlike Sex Bob-omb they have pretty good marketing, the posters plastered almost everywhere in Toronto. During a usual shift at second cup, a friend of Lucas's comes in for coffee and comes across a flyer on the board for the band along with that night's competition.

He suggests going out for drinks and checking it out, which soon has Lucas finding himself in the club of Rockit. Where he meets Scott and assumes he's another Scott but isn't, something that wasn't anything new as the two were known for getting mixed up at parties and things of the sort. After all the two had a couple things in common, with them both being the bass player for their bands. But Lucas finds himself drawn to the male, wanting to get to know him.

✎ᝰ.┆𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚁𝙴 .ᐟ

Lucas Lee X Ftm Reader, fluff.

Requested by an anon, I hope you enjoy it and I'm so sorry for the wait! <33

A sigh left your lips as you stood there, raising the beer bottle to your lips and taking a sip. You stood there tapping your foot against the floor, trying to calm your nerves. Your band was to be next, two bands after the one playing right now, compared to the opening band they were average. Nothing special but still people seemed to like them, their bass player was good or at least that's what you believed so you'd give that to them.

As for why you were standing here near the bar, trying to soothe any anxiety you had instead of making sure everything was ready with your band. You had needed a small break, something to distract you from all the overbearing thoughts that were filling your head. Which of course did become helpful in the end, just not the way you intended. As you listened to familiar faces or just random people who knew of you from parties speak to you about events or rumors they heard about "you", the first thing to ever leave some of their lips is usually the fact they thought you were dead.

Which truly confused you, when did you die? And that's when it hit you right there and then, they were getting you mixed with Scott Pilgrim. The loser who was dating or dated a highschooler, and the bass player of Sex Bob-omb who was coincidentally just now going on as you watched them move across the stage. Getting in their positions, this time an unfamiliar face following suit.

You sighed again as you questioned how anyone would get you mixed up with him unless they hadn't seen his face or knew his full name which was overall stupid, after all Scott was a pretty common name and it would be smart to get his last name but then again most of these people you met at parties so what did you expect. You truly found it irritating whenever you got mixed up with the male, it being slightly offensive as well. You did not date a highschooler and never would do anything so sick in the first place, you also did not die as you stood here now perfectly fine.

Which did make you wonder if he faked his death as he was now back, standing on the stage in one piece and alive as he played with Sex Bob-omb. The only reason you didn't confront people over this was because you were horrible when it came to socializing and there's the fact sometimes people would be messing around with you, and you wouldn't even realize. You also were overall just terrible with confrontation, leaving you to just respond with how they got the wrong Scott.

But that didn't matter now, setting the bottle down and taking a seat you pondered on ways to make your nervousness slowly dissipate as someone sat down next to you. "One beer, please." He beamed as he pulled his shades off, smirking at the bartender who immediately recognized him and got to grabbing the man a beer. Soon shifting to the side as his gaze trailed across the crowd and then settled on you, your eye's widened as his met yours.

This wasn't good, you were already dealing with anxiety and now you were sitting next to someone who didn't even look like he'd be found a club like Rockit, where they were now holding a competition for shitty bands to compete. Of course you knew better than to judge someone by their appearance, as who knows why he was here. And then there's the fact he could just have an eccentric taste, truthfully he looked like a Johnny Bravo wannabe but he was pulling it off at least.

But besides that fact, you felt intimidated by him and that just added onto you not being able to socialize well. As the male flashed a grin, "You don't have to stare at me like that, I know. I'm awesome." He stated as he took the beer from the man behind the counter. Picking up a pen as he immediately wrote his signature down on his recipet, then placing it down and handing you it. You were confused as your eyebrows furrowed, was he apart of a band perhaps?

You hadn't recognized any of the bands names on the list so it was hard to tell, if not then maybe some type of celebrity or something? But here in Rockit? Talk about strange, he did look like he could possibly be a model though. His tall and muscular build could easily be eye candy for a lot of people, so maybe he really was a model. It would make sense in a way with how he carried himself, you shook your head before finally asking the question that was plaguing your mind.

Taking the receipt as you spoke, "Sorry, who are you?" And just like that you were met with silence which you quietly panicked inside at. The man just peering down at you for a few minutes before repeating the question you had said out loud, "Who am I? Well, I'm the one and only Lucas Lee of course." His response didn't help you much but you knew you had heard the name before as you stared down at his signature on the receipt. You honestly didn't know what to say in return as you scrambled through your mind for an answer to where you had heard it from.

And that's when you were reminded of who he was, your eyes widening as you looked back up at the male. A famous actor, was he? You remembered your bandmate "Sookie" gushing about how he was now working at second cup, which was exactly where she had gotten his autograph. You had barely been paying attention as you watched her mouth move, that same glittery gloss she wore painting her lips. Seems his acting career was over because of some scandal you did not know of, or that's what you at least have memory of.

Your fingers loosely gripped the receipt as you nodded, about to say something before being interrupted by someone shouting your name. Two familiar figures were heading over to you, your eyes settling on them immediately as you questioned what they wanted. The two being Sookie and Mo, of course. Sookie had her hair tied up in a ponytail, the familiar black curls all bunched up. Her nails painted pink and that same glittery lip gloss she always wore on her lips, as she spoke out, her words were muffled by the bustling crowd around them.

Mo followed behind, his style never changing as he wore his regularly white button up shirt with some weird tie that matched his socks. Today's theme being, Garfield? Was that right? You couldn't tell really, as they moved through the crowd you waved them over. You were going to turn back to apologize to Lucas when a loud squeal was heard, you instantly recognized it as Sookie's as the two had finally made it over. Your eyebrows furrowing as you hoped you didn't have to deal with her fan-girling over the man while you stood there awkwardly, your nerves getting worse.

Her lips curved into a smile as she quickly made her way towards the two, settling right beside you. It was no lie that you loved Sookie but sometimes she could be too much for your own good, with her being a burst of joy and the talkative one of the bunch. While you tried to hide in the shadows because you were horrible with chatting and didn't understand social ques, which had made things pretty awkward at times. Causing you to get paranoid about how you appeared to certain people.

Sex Bob-omb was just now finishing their performance which soon led to a new band coming on stage, meaning Pocket Lint was next. That explaining why the two came out. Probably to make sure you were okay and didn't bale on them, which would be the least of their worries as Mo was always the one vanishing. It didn't matter much as he dealt with promoting and getting the bands name around, those flyers for Pocket Lint plastered all around Toronto being made by him after all.

He wasn't apart of their band anyways really as he had his own to deal with, him being new to Canada and American caught their guitarists attention. Then there was the fact he was apart of a semi-popular band which the male was having problems with, as you had heard all about him dipping on them during a show that Rockit held last week. Seems he was physically and mentally struggling with some things at the moment, as Sookie described how he had a whole new wardrobe and appearance switch. Wanting to change everything.

Arzhel their guitarist wanted to try and get him to join as he was his bands vocals, with Pocket Lint needing their own vocalist as Arzhel dealt with most of the singing and Sookie sticked to the drums while helping out with lyric writing. The three of you being tight knit together as you were their bass player, overall everything was pretty good and Mo helped quite a bit. So it was nice to have him around when needed.

You had just gotten another beer while you watched Sookie talk to the male, beaming about the band and other things. With Lucas soon ending it by giving her another autograph, this time signing her bag which filled her with excitement. Thank God it was just Lucas Lee out of all people, who knows what would've happened if you ran into Envy Adams. You'd have to hold her back from pouncing and bombarding the rockstar with questions, as well praise.

Of course that was a more dramatic reenactment of the situation but you wouldn't be surprised as Sookie absolutely adored the singer, which you truthfully found cute and it made everything easier as you knew exactly what to get when it came to presents. As you had gotten her Clash at demon's head latest album along with some other things you'd believe she liked for her last birthday, to say she was pleased would be an understatement.

As your face had blemishes on it, mainly because of the red lipstick that had beared her lips that night. The memory had brought a smile to your lips as you rolled your eyes, watching the woman finally make her way torwards Mo who seemed to be lost in conversation with a familiar face that you forgot the name of. Your eyes soon leaving the three as you glanced back at Lucas, who had just now asked you a question.

"You, have we met before?" You raised an eyebrow at his question, muttering a simple no as you pondered on why the two of you would've met which you then remembered he could possibly be talking about Scott Pilgrim. "I'm the other Scott, not Scott Pilgrim." He responded, his eyes meeting the male's eyes again. Watching as Lucas thought it over, nodding with a smirk. "Well other Scott, it's nice to meet you. I heard you're apart of a band?" He asked as he stood there.

He was interested in you, though of course that wasn't clear. He just found it amusing that you treated him as if he didn't use to be some famous star, the receipt you had from him now crumpled up and laying on the counter. You hadn't even realized you did that, just a regular occurrence of yours as you weren't the the type to keep receipts. You soon took another sip from the beer in hand, "Yeah," your lips parting as you stood there thinking of how to respond.

"We go on next, me and my band. Pocket Lint, we're pretty good. If you're not bored by the end you could come hang out, that's if you're interested. I'm sure Sookie would enjoy that." You wanted to say you would be happy to have him around for the night that way you could get to know him more but of course anxiety got the best of you, maybe come to an understanding as to why your drummer loved him so much besides well his looks.

You were fairly surprised that you had even managed to keep conversation with the male, perhaps the alcohol in your system pushed you a bit. Or Lucas just had an aura about him that made it easy to talk to him but even so you were still worrying about what he thought, after all he was a famous star in the past. You watched as the man grabbed a napkin, writing something down. Before holding it out, peering down at your hands to watch you take it before he brought his gaze back to your eyes.

"Definitely, I'll be there. Call me, won't ya?" He stated with a wink, your fingers brushed against his as you took the napkin while ignoring the playful wink he gave you. Reading his number over in your head as you stared down at it, you were careful as you put it in the bag hanging from your shoulder. Adjusting the strap before humming, "I should really get going, I don't want Arzhel yelling at me. I'll see you around though, later?" He questioned with a small smile which Lucas returned with "Of course." While waving you off as he ordered another beer.

Now here you and your band were stuck at Arzhel's house, Mo drunk, practically topless as his unbuttoned shirt hanged from his torso and wearing only his boxers along with it which were Garfield themed like the rest of his outfit. You were shocked to not find his bra to be Garfield themed at this point, talk about bold. But that's just how the male was, he even had a collection of converse's that were multiple colors. Wearing the black ones now, instead of his black oxfords. Which truly made the lasagna socks he had on pop, it sounded ridiculous and looked ridiculous in some people's eyes like Arzhel but hey it was a sense of style.

As for Arzhel he was currently picking up behind him, as he grabbed the familiar pair of black pin-striped pants off the floor of his living room. A cigarette dangling from his lips as he rolled his eyes, watching the other male empty a glass of red wine as he plopped down onto the couch next to Sookie. Her pulling his head against her body causing him to lean against her with a sigh as his gaze settled on you, he waved the glass at you with a smile which caused you to let out a sigh in response.

Pondering on if the male would be okay, since he had an argument with his bandmates, he had been sticking around when he could and if he wasn't then he was drinking or sleeping his problems away with some new random person he met at a party. Or at least trying to do so, the sound of Sookie humming as she ran her fingers through his hair with a smile was heard. You watched as Arzhel slowly made his way towards the two, peeling Mo's fingers away from the wine glass as he shut down his complaints with a soft hush.

The four of you were overall exhausted, it being an hour since you left Rockit with a drunk Mo. You had tried finding Lucas after your show but were swept away in the crowd, and in the end never found him, but you did have one thing. His number, you held the crumpled receipt and the napkin in your hand as you stared down at the numbers. Pondering on what to say if you called him, anxiety filling your chest as you listened to Arzhel ask Mo if he'd be staying the night which the male just scoffed and answered with an of course.

You then cursed under your breath before speaking, "Sorry, do y'all think y'all be able to take care of him without me? I have somewhere I want to be, if that's fine." Snookie smiled and nodded, not minding at all while Arzhel patted Mo on the shoulder as he rised. "Don't even have to ask, just don't go getting yourself into trouble and if you're drinking, get a friend. We'll take care of Mo, he'll be fine plus he's been staying at my place for a while anyways so I got him." He explained with a muffled tone as he moved, placing the clothes down on the coffee table before walking past you and nodding at you as he pulled the cigarette from his lips with an exhale.

Which you nodded in return, Sookie soon spoke as she glanced at you for a few minutes. "Have fun!" She winked, which caused you to raise an eyebrow but you shrugged it off. Making your way towards the front door, grabbing the coat off the rack and taking a step outside. Soon you had your phone in hand, pressing each button to dial in the actors number. Then bringing it to your ear as you walked, praying he'd pick up as you exhaled.

It didn't take long for someone to pick up on the other side of the line, you heard the familiar tone of Lucas's voice. "Hello, this is Lucas Lee speaking." Which earned a soft chuckle from you as you stopped in place, causing the male to speak again. "Other Scott?" He questioned, which caused you to picture him raising his eyebrow as he asked. "Yeah, it's me. Other Scott, or well just Scott," He pointed out as he started walking again, "I wanted to know if you're still up for hanging out, or is it too late?"

"No, not at all. I'm always ready for a party." A grin dancing on his lips as he joked, but you didn't catch it as you responded. "I meant alone but I could figure something out if you would prefer being around more people, my bandmates are resting so I might have to dig a bit online." You were soon met with his signature chuckle as you heard the sound of shuffling and digging through the phone, Lucas obviously doing something on the other side. "We can spend some time together, alone. Got a a place in mind?" His voice even thicker than how he had answered the phone at first, perhaps he had just been asleep before you called.

"There's a park, the one with that weird statue of some guy I forgot the name of. It's next to the skatepark if I remember." You soon trailed off as you pondered on the street name, soon telling him the location which caused Lucas to hum before speaking. "I'll be there, give me fifteen minutes. Nothing more, nothing less." It didn't take long before he hung up, you smiling as you fist pumped in your head. Glad that went well, as you relaxed. Your anxiety slowly dissipating, while you started walking at a faster place.

It didn't take long for you to arrive at the park, your hands fumbling with the receipt you still had as you tried to straighten it out as best as you could. Sitting on a bench as you waited for the man, the sound of wheels rolling against concrete soon reaching your ears. As you raised your head, you were met with the familiar figure of Lucas, this time wearing his leather jacket. His skateboard emitted a grinding noise as it grounded to a halt, the wheels scraping against the pavement.

Soon propelling the skateboard upward and effortlessly catching it in his hand, his eyes fixating on you as he moved torwards the bench and took a seat next to you. "So, come here often?" He wondered as his eyes fell on your face, his breathing releasing a visible puff of air from his lips. Then dissipating into the cold atmosphere, you nodded as you watched his lips. Something you had grown used to, always watching everyone's lips move as they spoke.

"I guess, I usually just come when I need a break or some fresh air. It's the perfect place to relax at night after a long day." You explained to him as you fidgeted with your fingers, glancing away every few minutes before focusing on his lips again as he started talking. "I see, it is quite nice. Peaceful even." His eyes not leaving you once as he watched your expression and body language, his eyes soon settling on the receipt that he didn't even notice you took after leaving the bar.

For some reason it made him feel warm, something so small but significant in a way. Even though you didn't know of him that much or minded him being an actor you still seemed to care, it was sweet in a way. His gaze followed your fingers as you blowed at them, trying to warm them up. You soon glancing at the male with an eyebrow raised, your lips parting as you pondered what had him so lost in thought.

What he said next really shocked you in a way, as you stared at him. "If you let me, I could help keep your hands warm." He uttered out loud, surprising himself even but it wasn't notable with his expression being blank. You wondered what he meant by that as you sat there, holding your hands out with a nod. Watching as he took hold of your hands, covering yours with his and bringing them to his lips as he intertwined his fingers with yours. Gently blowing at them, his eyebrows furrowing as he focused.

Your eyes widened at the gesture, it did help in a way but also caused a bubble of nerves to rise. But not the bad kind, more like butterflies in your stomach. You felt warm, you couldn't focus on his eyes or lips anymore. Just staring at your fingers as you thought of what to say, letting out a heavy breath. This wasn't what you expected for the night as you sat there, watching him closely. "Is that helping?" He asked as his eyes met yours making your breath get caught in your throat, making it even more difficult to say anything.

It took a minute before you could say anything, not being able to peel your eyes away from his. "Yeah, it is." You muttered, your voice coming out gravelly. You didn't pull your hands away and he didn't let go as his focus went back to your hands, continuing to gently blow at them. Silence filling the air as you both had sat there together, you savoring the moment of subtle intimacy as you acknowledged the way he squeezed your hands every couple minutes. If this was how you were to end your night, you didn't mind at all. If anything enjoying it.

Once done he lowered your hands but kept his fingers intertwined with them and truthfully you didn't want to pull your hands away, finding it comforting. As you leaned back against the bench, relaxing with a sigh of relief. Your gaze settling on the sky, it seems you'd be here for a bit and you didn't mind it all. Basking in the silence and the moment, he was right about it being peaceful but it was even better now that you had someone with you.

[buckybarnesss]

What Sterek 'canon rewrite' fics would you recommend?

i often don't go for outright rewrites. i tend to stick more to au's or fix it's. canon divergence is my jam lol so here's a few i like.

burn with hellfire in the blue of midnight by babisays

Stiles met the Hale siblings when he was eleven years old. Now it has been six years since he lost his best friend Cora in the fire, and Derek and Laura left Beacon Hills. Six years was a long time, so he didn't think he would ever see them again, but now he was wondering what the hell was Derek Hale doing back in Beacon Hills.

rearrange by imnotahero

Derek crouches down in front of him. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. Stiles huffs pathetically to camouflage how thrown he is by all of this, but finally obliges. “I’m not gonna disappear into the night without a trace. We’ll keep in touch, okay?” “Sure,” says Stiles sarcastically. “When have you ever returned a text? Called unless your pants were on fire? Excuse me for being skeptical.” __________ Season 5B and beyond told through Stiles' and Derek's off-screen interactions, inner musings and personal discoveries. A little bit angsty with a dash of fluff and a pinch of plot. Slow burn, so wear sunscreen.

way down we go by wolfspurr

Set during 3B and its aftermath. The blacklight party at the loft leaves Stiles with more than one revelation playing on his mind. He's losing time, and apparently he might be more than just a little bit interested in Derek Hale. By the time he's fought off the Nogitsune and somehow lived to tell the tale, the rest of Stiles' sanity might just rest on Derek, the Camaro, and a few hundred miles of Pacific Coast Highway. It's going to be one hell of a road trip.

in the afterimage by clotpolesonly

Jackson sat heavily on the riser beside Scott, knocking their shoulders together. “This is weird and I hate it.” "What's weird and why?" “This whole situation,” Jackson said. “With the Ghostriders and the missing dude you’re so obsessed with.” “And why do you hate that?” “Because now I can’t stop thinking about it!” Jackson bit out, and he really did sound supremely irritated by that. “I keep thinking that if even Danny’s forgetting shit because of this guy, then I must be forgetting shit too, and that is so not cool. So now I’m running over everything that’s ever happened in my entire freaking life looking for moments when the Ghostriders could’ve fucked with my head.” Scott had to admit that Jackson had a point. He’d been doing the same thing ever since that first memory with obvious pieces missing. Honestly, it was hard for him to find a memory that did feel whole. Even sitting on the bench alone didn’t feel right.