#puts them in my mouth and chews thoroughly

[haifoct]

Just Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji being the softest to bless your Sunday. That’s it. You are very welcome.

Commissioned from wysteribun on twitter.

[salty-an-disco]

contrahero headcanon for your troubles

hero went to smitten for advice on wooing contra, and smitten, among other things, taught hero the language of the flowers for the purpose of 'divulging the depths of his heart with an age-old art of secrecy and romance'.

hero isn't quite sure it's all that but gives contrarian bouquets anyway, each with unique and lovely meanings, left anonymously for them to find. It hasn't occurred to hero yet that contra doesn't actually know the language of the flowers and therefore can't interpret them, but contrarian does know that flowers are flowers, and that someone must be leaving them for them.

They haven't figured out who they're from yet, but finding new ones makes them smile every time. Smitten watches with binoculars from a distance and just about dies every time he sees the message hero left. He doesn't know contra doesn't get it and so he's very confused why contrarian hasn't yet proposed to this dashing young knight

sorry someone messed up your day, hope this helps :)

Awwwww zmmemdmdkrmcmf

this is so cute and sweet, and aaaaaaaaahhhhhh THESE IDIOTS!!!

I also associate Hero with buttercups and Contra with sunflowers (which are also a petnames I like them having for each other), so I searched their meanings in flower language just for funsies and OMG AKMSMDJFM

they’re meanings as told by google:

Sunflower: adoration, loyalty and longevity. Known as “happy” flowers, sunflowers are the perfect gift to bring joy to someone's day or as a treat for yourself.

Buttercup: humility, neatness, childishness, joy, new beginnings, and general happiness, friendship, and simplicity. And as a bonus: A red buttercup is most often used to symbolize passion and love, while pink is the color of romance. Orange is used to symbolize other strong emotions, like passion.

[tosksuki]

SWEETHEART

Pairing : Eren x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: p in v! , passing out in the middle of seggsy time, squirting, alot of cum, mating press, breeding, raw, crying , mention of animals, You and Eren work with animals, screaming (not arguing), kissing, m&f receiving head, breeding, cum eating, pet names( sweetheart ;) ,honey, baby), many badwords!!! NOT THOROUGHLY PROOF RED

WORDCOUNT: 4.5k😟😟😟

PLOT: You the owner of a bew clinic have been stressed but somewhere in the mix youve found interest in a new hire! Being that Sasha and Mikasa are your best friends, they give you a push… NOT THOROUGHLY PROOF RED

It was summer time while you were hanging out with Sasha and Mikasa doing nothing in particular. So you were dressed lowkey lazily. You've been working your ass off at your new clinic for straight weeks now, you really needed it! You had a really good amount of employees hired already and even they could notice the tired in your eyes. The three of you were walking downtown. It was night so it was all dimly lit. Sasha decided you three should order Mediterranean takeout and sit on the beach.

You were zoned out listening to the sounds of the water sloshing against the sand. Mikasa and Sasha were talking about who knows what. Mikasa suddenly shook you “hey you what’s wrong” she said, flicking your forehead. You scrunched your forehead “why the fuck!!!” “You’ve barely touched your food and your staring at the water” she said concerned. “Yeah she’s right, are you okay?” Sasha said while trying to sneak her fork into your food she almost got away with it too. “Your hungry ass” you said smiling slapping her hand away.

“Guys I'm fine , My headache went away so i can finally think.” You let out a breathy sigh. “But now its back because of you two” you grinned, pushing them both away giggling. “Awee we love you too pretty” Mikasa said lovingly. “You know you can talk to us about anything” sasha sayed putting on a fake man voice. they both squeezed you into a tight hug. “Welll…….there is this cute new hire but…..”you were trailing off about it being unprofessional or something who knows. Your two friends were staring at you like they've seen a ghost. “A BOYYYY?!?!” they both basically screamed out in unison faces 4 inches away from yours.

“Nevermind” you began stuffing your face with food , “this is actually so good oh my God” you said with your mouthful, movements quick hoping that they forget about what you just said. Mikasa grabbed your fork “first of all, chew?” Her face contorted with confusion as she stared at you annoyed. “Calm down , you just never talk about boys! After yk who…” Sasha said surprised .“It's okay”. You swore your brown skin was turning pink somehow.

You talked about him for a little bit and they somehow convinced you that you should talk to him the next time you go back to work. The rest of the night was spent with the three of you talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It was almost 3 in the morning by the time you left and you decided to just have a sleepover at your house. You don’t remember how you even made it into your bed but you did anyway! The two of them stayed for the next two days (already having clothes at yourss)until it was time for you to go to work.

You put just a little tad bit of effort into your appearance before going to work. You put on some light makeup and some cute lashes that bring out your eyes. You packed your lunch bag and work bag before heading out. You were kind of panicked unsure if you were even going to do it or not. Eren was quiet and attentive when he cared for animals. He was really smart so when he heard that you were looking for help with sorting out the finances for your clinic bills and what not,,he offered his hand. Now you two were in your office sorting through the papers in somewhat awkward silence.

Your mouth opened and closed but no words came out. Too nervous. “Ms, is something wrong?” Eren pushed up his glasses to get a better view of you. Honestly he thought you were one of the prettiest girls hes ever seen. His head turned slightly waiting for a response. “O-oh uhm uh I wa- uhm nevermind ihavetogotothebathroom” you muttered as you hurriedly pushed to the bathroom. “Ahhhh what the fuck” you put your hand over your face very clearly and reasonably embarrassed. “Excuse me Miss, are you alright?” It was Eren.

“Im fine but—-“ you fixed your composure and peeped your head halfway out the bathroom door. “Would you like to get dinnerwithmethisweekend?” You forced out hurriedly, not making any eye contact while he burned into your face. “Yeah! I mean yes, I have to get going, my shift is over.” He said, trying to hide his excitement. He's cuter than you thought. You grinned “okay Eren have a nice night”. The rest of the week consisted of the two of you stealing glances at each other smiling or just teasing. Schedule too busy to sit down and talk, you had the last of your meetings for a while with your business partners.

“Hey is it okay if I pick you up instead?”

“ yeah sure? How should I dress?”

“Casual is fine”

“Mk, ill be ready”

You were supposed to dress simple but you were so nervous you forgot what it meant and after scrolling through Pinterest, mismatching, and overthinking you finally found something casual and a little too much. “But! Why be underdressed when you can be overdressed” you said checking and spinning yourself around in the mirror. You did some light makeup and brushed out your lashes focusing on small details. You knew if you didn’t you would worry yourself till you canceled.

Ding

“Im here”

Now it's time to panic , you gave Fritz, your dog a few more pets before you left. Hand barely able to open the door. You glanced to spot erens car in front before you distracted yourself by digging through your purse. (How to avoid the awkward walk to the car irl though??????😞😞). Before you got to the car Eren slipped out to open the door for you. You almost fell when you saw him. He looked good in his scrubs but wow… Maybe its because you saw the tattoos that were usually kept hidden. You knew he had them from the small glimpses you were able to catch.

“Thank you Eren” you said as you slipped in putting on your seatbelt. “You’re welcome Miss…” he began but you cut him off, “uhuh-“ you shook your head “if we’re gonna be doing this then call me by my name” you quietly giggled. “Yes ma’ammmm” he said with a smile, his grill shining. “You look beautiful today yk?” Eyes focused on the road. “Thank you ‘Ren, you’re so sweet you look really good too” you said shyly. “I look good, ya hungry already?” He laughed when he heard your gasp saying how he was just kidding. The two of you talked about eachothers music taste, what school you went to, and a whole lot of nothing.

The two of you went to a new Mediterranean restaurant. It was going pretty good. You two shared alot of interest other than your job! He was surprised to see that you had some ink aswell. “How did you like your food?” He questioned. “Its so good i already feel full” you snorted. His eyebrow perked up “cmere” he said with a devilish grin,leaning over the table to whisper in your ear, “i can do you one better sweetheart.” He put his thumb on the side of your mouth wiping the left over sauce off your face. “Oh…” your breath hitched he plopped back down into his seat licking his thumb. “Mhmmm that is good” he said like nothing ever happened. Your expression was the complete opposite you squeezed your thighs and took a deep breath. “You sure are something else..” gaze lifting to look into his grey eyes. “I was only helping” he said, defending himself and shrugging with a funny pout as he met your eyes.

You were in the restaurant for almost 2 hours just talking. Your server came by for the time that they were closing down for the day. You giggled, “I guess we should be on our way then” talkin to ren. He took your hand walking you out the restaurant into the car. “I had alot of fun tonight” he said calmly, you agreed. “It’s been so long since Ive been on a date” you commented. “M’ glad you asked because I was too scared to” he mumbled scratching his neck with one hand steering. “Whaaaaaa” you shreiked. “Yeah Ive had my eyes on you since I applied but…..you’re so out of my league” you laughed “HAH yeah right.” You laughed out rolling your eyes. He smiled , it was so pretty though. You sighed, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. He pulled the car into your driveway. You began to undo your seatbelt and before you reached for the door handle he grabbed your wrist. Yanking it back towards him, your face filled with confusion. Tension was forming between the small space of your faces. “I meant what i said” he whispered eyes flicking back to your and your lips. “You’re the prettiest thing I've ever seen sweetheart” he reminded ,hand cupping your cheek rubbing his thumb comfortingly against your face.

The air around you was so thick and heavy now. You leaned into his touch eyes focusing on eachother, saying things you weren’t able to get out. You leaned in kissing him, his hand moving to the back of your neck pulling you in closer. He was kissing you like he was still hungry. He opened his mouth and you took it as an invite to explore his mouth even more. You softly bit his lip and sucked on his tongue just a little bit. “Fuck” he groaned and you whined almost cried as he pulled away a string of spit separating the two of you. He knew he had to stop and if he didn’t now he’d be on you till the morning. He didn’t want you to think he was just here for that.

Silence filled the car as you just practically eye fucked each other gaze snapping away from another when you heard fritz loud barking. “Bye Eren” you gave him a soft smile as you got out the car. “See you later sweetheart” he waved with a fat goofy grin taking over his face. He only pulled off when he saw you disappear behind the door. “Hi Fritz, mommy missed you soo much”. She jumped off the bed and onto you making you trip and almost fall. “Woah okay calm down” you warned “you’re too big for that”. She was a german shepherd afterall. She whimpered at your words, she's only 1! You threw your clothes off discarding them onto the floor and jumped into bed.

You immediately called Sasha and Mikasa , they were so excited for you. You mentioned the kiss and sasha nearly cried. “Please wear protection y/nnnnn” she begged. “Yeah, im not ready to be the rich auntie yet.” Mikasa added. Now they were going back and forth and you rolled your eyes at your best friends.

“Goodnight sweetheart”

“Good night Renny<3”

You kicked your feet giggling into the sheets. Embarrassing! “Fritz, i think you’re getting a new daddy” she barked and jumped into your bed to rest on your stomach.

Now its been 3 months since youve asked Eren on your first date. Its been great youve been seeing each other almost every weekend and when you can you try and go to lunch together when your breaks at work line up. Suspicions have been making their way through the clinic but nothing serious. Honestly you couldn’t have thought things would be going so well for you already! You’ve been getting new patients almost every other day, and you treated your first Capuchin monkey. It was funny because when he woke up the poor thing jumped on Erens head and wouldn’t let go till his owner came.

“GET IT OFF OF ME” Eren screamed comically running around the back. Everyone broke out in fits of laughter. “Calm down honey, hes not doing anything” you tried to reassure your boyfriend- well not officially but hopefully soon. It was working till the thing ripped off his glasses making him hit his head on the wall. “Now that one is your fault “ you giggled while taking him to the waiting room. The small thing jumped off his head into his owners arm. “I'm so sorry” the sweet lady mouthed before she left. You gave him a quick peck on his lips. “Better already” he said and if u squinted you could see a tail wagging behind him.

After work Eren dropped you off at your house telling you to be ready for tonight. You were excited , you always were. He was so sweet to you, never making you have to stress about dates, just getting you pretty outfits for you to wear. Eren was inherently rich, his father is the head director of a hospital and his mom works under him. So ontop of the money he already had working at the vet made his pockets heavy asl. He told you to wear something fancy so you put on something with a light sweater. Too bad summer is almost over today was a little chilly.

Ding dong

“Who is it?” You asked from the other room, fritz barking when she heard the bell. “Hey shush” you hushed the dog as you walked towards the door. “Take a guess sweetheart”. You unlocked it to reveal the 6’0 man. “For meeee? How nice” you said taking to flowers he bought for you. “Let me put these in a vase and ill be ready.” Fritz has grown fond of Eren, she gave him licks and would follow him around everywhere. It was more believable if you said he was her owner pfft. You placed the flowers into some warm water, you added the flower food and a small amount of sugar.

“Oh wait i forgot to tell you, pack like a sleepover bag, i want you to sleep at mines, if that’s okay?” Eren questioned as if you would say no. You aren’t crazy. “Of course, can we drop Fritz off at Sashas though? I don’t want her to be home alone so long.” You asked a slight tone of concern. Eren agreed , you packed your bag leaving out pjs figuring youd just wear his shirt. You dropped your dog off, sasha slapping a condom into your hand and slamming the door back before you could say anything. Come to think of it , you and Eren haven’t actually had sex yet. You wanted to be his girlfriend first or was it an excuse because you were too scared. You’ve had your make out sessions of course nothing much more besides you mindlessly grinding on his thigh.

The two of you were seated on the rooftop of a restaurant you can’t pronounce even if you tried. It was so romantic, the strung lights hanging around dimly lit the area. The waiter brought out your food. “Hey, remember on our first date, i had a bunch if sauce on my lip” you said grabbing your fork. “Mhm..i remember your outfit and everything pretty.” He said laughing , “you don’t even know how nervous I was, almost pissed myself”. “Makes two of us!” You cackled. He thought you were the most perfect thing hed ever know. You finished eating making your way back to Erens.

No matter how many times you drove by to see his house it was still a shocker. It was like a mansion kind of big, it was cute and comfy on the inside too. As the two of you entered the home he suddenly covered your eyes. “I have a surprise for you, keep them closed and follow me” he taunted and you nodded. “What are you up to boy” you slapped your hand over your eyes while you free one grabbed him. After walking up a flight of stairs and taking familiar turns you finally came to a stop. There was a brief silence when he opened the door to make sure everything was in place. “You can open them” he said, voice cracking, pouring with nerves.

The room was decorated with flower petals and gifts sprawled out on the bed. A sign in them middle asking if he could be your boyfriend. You didn’t really know what to do but stand in shock. He took a step closer opening a box with a ring in it. His hands were so shaky , “s-so?” He stuttered. “Are you joking….” You whispered not knowing what else to say.

His hand moved to cup your cheek, “im so serious” his eyes studying your teary ones , wiping a falling tear with his thumb. You grabbed his arm and pulled him in a skillful kiss. “Y-yea-hah” you lightly moaned as he deepened it, crushing your body with his to pull you an ample amount closer. He pushed you onto the bed moving all the gifts onto the floor not breaking the kiss, your lips following his. Hes climbing over you intertwining his fingers with yours “hhh-hold on mama” he gasped breathlessly breaking away from the kiss.

Your face twisted, eager you pressed your heat against his knee moving your hips to get some friction. He moved down to lick and suck marks into your neck pushing your shirt up, your skirt hiking up dangerously high. “You’re so nasty, no panties today?” he rasped giving you a fair smile when a sticky wet patch appeared on his leg. He pressed it more against you watching the scene play out like it was the greatest porn he’d ever seen. “M-m ore please” you complained , it wasn’t enough this time. Now you’re helping him remove his shirt yours follow after along with your bra.

His mouth found his way to your nipples, sucking and licking them. Rolling the buds inbetween his fingers , “nd im the nasty one?” you said biting your lip with a slick smirk. You ran your hands through his messy hair massaging his scalp. His tongue darted out before tracing a long lick down to your pussy. “Never said i wasn’t” he replied looking up at you n winking. “O-oh” your hips buckled as he placed his thumb onto your clit rubbing soft circles and you could’ve sworn he was spelling his name.

He watched intently before licking down to your dripping hole coming back and giving attention to your hardened bud. His finger stopped rubbing your inner thigh and poked and circled it around your tight entrance. “Eren…cmon” you begged eyes filling with tears. He scrunched your skirt up so he could get a view of your expression.

“Okay sweetheart” who was he to deny you of anything?

He sunk two fingers in curving them into your walls. You jaw opened drool creeping down the side of your mouth. “Taste so good “ he groaned , it sent extra vibrations down to your clit. You were fucking his face unable to control your movements. He started to move his fingers sloppily his mouth work becoming quicker too. “F-fUck ‘m gonna cum Ereh” you cried , “im s-oh closeree” you strained making eye contact. Then his fingers finally finally found that spot. He watched you dip your head further into the mattress back arching up. Your boyfriend fuckking himself, rutting his dick on the side of the bed. “Oh my God “ he growled “c-cum fa m-me mama.”

You helplessly planted your foot on his shoulder pushing it while your hand is tangled in his hair. “Rennie I can’t” You swallowed thickly as your attempt of trying to let him lighten up on you failed. Your stomach squeezing and the pressure became unbearable you let out a silent scream. It felt like your whole body was on fire. Moans flowed out of your mouth as you came , hips lifting off the bed and a sad attempt at running away. Erens mouth is still eating you through it. “Th-thank y-ou s’ muUc-h” you said. “Such good manners” he chuckled as he watched you twitch already looking lost. You think he pulled your soul out through your pussy.

You grabbed his hand before mindlessly putting the sticky fingers in your mouth. “Heyy i wanted that” he fake pouted. His wrist dug his fingers further through your throat making you choke, spit and bubbles dripping down his arm. “Nghhaahasha” you moaned , he pulled them out and you coughed as tears ran down your cheeks. “Dont talk with your mouth full!” he licked around the ring on your finger. You yanked him on the bed so he could lay down, you frantically pulled off his belt and his pants. His length threatened to poke out of his boxers. You were quick to pull those down and it slapped against his abdomen for a sec. It was so thick you gawked at it before rubbing your thumb over his slit.

“Ahhh so cute!” You said watching the pretty pink tip leak, he bit the back of his hand embarrassed to show how pink his face is. “You’re embarrassing…” he held back a strained groaned, “but you like it dont you hm?” you wiggled your ass in the air taunting him. Your mouth swirling the tip with your mouth then taking longer stipes down his shaft. Your soft hand jerked him slowly as you swallowed a little more with every bob of your head. Eren shuddered under you, hand tangling itself in your hair.

Lewd gags and spit pooling at the base of his dick dripping to his balls. “Ma-shit” his gritted “pretty ass mouth” hips rocking slightly up forcing its way further down your throat. You hallowed out your cheeks, “tha-thats it mama, just like that” his eyes were closed. He continued fucking your throat while you sucked and licked for all hes worth. “Ff-fuck me m’ gonna cum” he whined , now hes trying to run away from you. You sat on his legs and jerked him off while u sucked his balls. “Oh shit” abs tightening and he had to sit up before he went crazy. Vasts amount of cum shooting out his length. You giggled watching his eyes roll to the back of his head.

You came back to the tip sucking him dry, his hand squishing your cheeks so he could see your painted mouth “open up sweetheart” he asked . Of course you did his fingers toying with your tongue before kissing you. “Mhmmm” he groaned tasting your sweet mouth with his nut. “You satisfy my sweet tooth” he licked his teeth. When you pulled away you wouldn’t be wrong if you said you saw hearts in his eyes. “Hands and knees sweetheart” he said, tone more dominant and demanding now. His hands pushed your arch deeper , he lined himself up with your leaky entrance. Pushing past the ring slowly your arm reached out to grip the sheets. “I-is too b-big Renny” you babbled, drool pooling out your pretty soft lips. “Nuh-uh you ca-n take it” Eren reassured you, rubbing your back with his big hands slowly inching in deeper.

By now your arch is so far gone hes digging into your stomach. Giving you a few seconds of soft thrust before slamming into you rapidly. “i ca-cant do this n-no moreeee” you moaned sluggishly as your limbs gave out. “But we just started mama?” Eren gave you a pout , “are you sure you want to stop huh?” He knew the answer because you were still fucking him back the fat of your ass making loud clapping noise. You could feel the slick between your legs spreading around your thighs.

He grabbed the back of your neck pulling your back to his chest and you wailed at the sudden change of position. “I asked you a fucking question sweetheart” he whispered into your ear biting the skin “answer me” his voice filled with poison. “Ke-keep goi-goin keep going Eren” you cried , “don’t stop please” you were begging. Feeling the familiar sensation take over your body Erens rhythm never stops fucking you just right “Cum all over this dick sweetheart, its yours.” Just as he spoke, whatever holding you together snapped. “Yeah? all mine Ren?” You repeated and he reassured each time placing soft kisses onto your neck.

His hand reached infront of you and persistently rubbing it your back arched up off of him and your head fell back onto his shoulder. You were cumming, gushing alot your moans streaming out makin you shake violently. Clenching around him. “O-oh fuck mama” he groaned out “i knew this pretty pussy could take it” his brows furrowed as he pulled out tapping your clit with his thick cock. Cream pulling out of you, he softly put you on your back lifting one of your knees to your chest. “Just one more okay ma? I promise” he said with a sinful filled grin. “O-oh uh-fuck m-me fuck” you said weakly, “anythin fo-or you Er-eren”. He tilted his head wondering how he got so fucking lucky.

Your so obedient, your mind was blankinh as he slid it in with a deep thrust, “ohhh mY GOD” the two of you moaned in unison. You came again for the 3rd time as soon as his hips slapped with yours. Your hand immediately grabbed the arm keeping your leg in place. His thrust were becoming so sloppy and he aimed his hips just right thrusting upwards poking at your g spot over and over. Eren was moaning your name repeatedly like it was some kind of seance. He pushed your other knee to your chest hes got you trapped in full mating press now. You were wailing nails digging into his body and him repeatedly ramming into your sweet spot.

“M gonna cum, shit thi-this is the best pus-sy ever” , he moaned “whyd you keep it from me for so long SHIT!”. He realizes he been talking to himself, “woah, hey baby” hes cooing at you your body limp and unconscious, “get up pretty m’ almost finished” he kisses you gently waking you up your arms wrap around his neck to get some grounding. You have a lazy tired smile on your face stained with tears. “There she is” Eren gives a few more slams of his hips each time winding you before thick ropes of cum pour into you. You squirted all over his lower half, shocked as you never done it before. Some of Erens hair sticking to his sweaty forehead he watched as a mix of ur cum leaked out of you, some covering his dick.

He plunged a finger into your pussy tasting the mix he groaned out softly. “Lets get you to the bathroom hmm” he spoke so innocently and gentle you thought you were hallucinating. He pulled off your cum stained skirt and sat you so you could pee. He helped you shower, you were half sleeping the whole time. He carried you to his room and placed you gently under the covers ontop of him. Your hand on his chest softly snoring. He was soon after you placing his arm around your waist. “I love you “ he kissed your head.

Hello hello Hi guys, school is starting back soon so ill try to post when I can!! But ill try to get something out atleast once every week and with longer post like this most likely every 2 weeks or so.

But you guys see how y/n peed after doing the sex!!!??? Yeah u need to do that. Always be safe when involving any sexual interaction

[forlovvers]

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ nervous

pair: bf!jay x gn!reader | genre: fluff | warning(s): a kiss, nothing too much | wc: 500 | synopsis: in which jay really wants to impress your parents.

lynne’s notez🗒️: happy jay day!!!! type of bf i’d bring home to my parents tbh 😞

when you come home, the house is wrapped in a mouth watering scent. you hear meat sizzling, broth boiling, and vegetables being diced. jay is bustling around the kitchen, a stressed hand racking through his freshly-dyed brown hair. you step out of your work shoes and walk over to him, delicately pulling him by the waist and into your grasp.

“oh hi, you’re home.” he says, smiling softly and leaning into your touch. he smells of dinner and your strawberry shampoo.

“yes i am, what’s all this?” you ask, referring to the sudden hair color change and excessive dinner. you brush his hair out of his face and watch as his expression changes.

“do you not like it?” jay frowns a bit.

“no no i love it, the only question is why?” you ask, your tone a bit softer than usual. jay was the only one who made you act all gushy.

jay lets out a chuckle, “i thought your parents would like me more if i had my natural hair color.” you crack a smile, instantly understanding everything. the excessive dinner, the sudden hair change, the nervousness he’s shown for past couple of days. jay wants to impress your parents, who were visiting later in the day to meet your boyfriend.

“you’re an idiot,” you say, but the smile on your face only grows. he wiggles free from your grip and picks up a spoon. he loads the spoon with veggies and meat and broth and feeds you, being careful not to burn the top of your mouth.

“how does it taste?” jay looks worried as you chew thoroughly, you think about teasing him but decide against it. he’s put in so much work, you weren’t going to be the one to spoil it.

“amazing, my dad will love it.” you nod surely, and jay lets out a sigh of relief and takes the spoon before you can sneak any more bites.

you spot a large bouquet of pink roses sitting on the kitchen counter, another smile etching itself onto your face. you go over to touch the petals gently, “oh jay, these are beautiful—“

“those aren’t for you. they’re for your mom,” jay says suddenly, stirring a big pot of something. your head perks up in confusion and he gestures towards a slightly bigger bouquet of lilies sat near the refrigerator, “those are for you.”

“i love them,” you say breathlessly.

you turn to see jay standing closer to you, watching you admire the flowers. “i love you.” he says softly, a stupid grin on his face.

he brings you close, hands lingering around your waist. you lean in and plant a sweet kiss on his sweet lips. jay’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, holding you even closer than before. you lose feeling in your knees when he nibbles just a little on your bottom lip.

you pull away after a couple moments, “your meat’s gonna burn, loverboy.” you reach up and rest your arms on jay’s shoulders, getting a good look at him: puffy pink lips and dilated pupils and blushed cheeks looked good on him.

“hopefully your parents like charred beef,” jay jokes and leans in once more, kissing you again.

[alchemistc]

keep on dancing | bucktommy 1/1

"We actually met before, you know," Tommy says, casual as anything. "Uh, I think I would remember," Josh says, not quite able to help the way his eyes drop and scan up. "A couple times, actually." Josh is being pranked. "Pull the other one," he intones, already feeling the awkwardness start to lift away, which shouldn't be possible, but there's something about this Tommy guy, the way he carries himself, the way his expressions bring you in on the conversation. --- Josh has his memory jogged at a little gathering Tommy throws for Maddie and Chimney's six month anniversary.

read on ao3

"Josh, hey!"

Josh spins from the table with half an eggroll still stuffed in his mouth, and immediately wishes a sinkhole would open up beneath him. Just - just beneath him, though, he doesn't want to get stuck down there with Maddie's earnest as all get out brother and the man he's presenting to Josh like a prize-winning bull stud.

And.

He's still got an unchewed lumpia in his damn mouth.

Josh chews like his life depends on it, feeling mortified as The Boyfriend grins. They've technically met, although Josh doubts he remembers. Josh had still been stuffing his face with cake (a theme, apparently) and The Boyfriend (Tommy, he knows his name is Tommy, he's got to stop being so weird about the absolute hunk of a man Buck bagged by being a bumbling idiot) had been a little too invested in staring at Evan Buckley like the sun shone out his ass.

Fair assessment, really. If any of them had known Buck was bi, Josh might have shot his shot, at one point. They'd have been terrible together, but they are all intimately aware of how thoroughly Evan Buckley kisses, now.

"Josh, you remember Tommy?"

Tommy seems to clock that Josh is still chewing, damnit. And of course, of course, Evan Buckley hasn't just managed to bag the Greek-godliest, calendar centerpieceist hunk of a man in LA, he's also apparently found someone completely willing to not just ignore social faux-pas, but cover for them too. He tilts his gaze away from Josh, does something with his eyes that Josh would categorize as a flitter, if he wasn't built like a tank, and slides a hand up along Buck's back. Josh watches the big wide hand curl over the back of Buck's shoulder and seriously considers whether it would be blasphemous to pray for one of his own.

"You introduced us at the hospital," Tommy says, and Buck beams, like he's pleased Tommy remembers. Christ. The way they've been orbiting each other all evening, Josh is pretty sure Tommy never forgets anything he does with Buck.

He doesn't catch the weird phrasing until after he's swallowed, cleared his throat, and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you again," he says, and absolutely does not curse the gods when Tommy's grip is firm and crisp and gentle without being condescending.

Josh is happy for Buck, he really, genuinely is. He'd just be happier if he had his own.

"We actually met before, you know," Tommy says, casual as anything.

"Uh, I think I would remember," Josh says, not quite able to help the way his eyes drop and scan up.

"A couple times, actually."

Josh is being pranked. "Pull the other one," he intones, already feeling the awkwardness start to lift away, which shouldn't be possible, but there's something about this Tommy guy, the way he carries himself, the way his expressions bring you in on the conversation.

"You helped me through a rough call, my first week in the air," Tommy says, fingers still squeezing at Buck's left shoulder, posture open and inviting, and Josh tries to pull the voice out of his memory. It's -- distinctive, really, low register but slightly nasally, a high up-down to the cadence that Josh would have clocked in a heartbeat. Patterns of speech is a terrible way to generalize, but he's got a pretty good success rate, when he can put a living breathing face to the voice.

He doesn't take many air support calls, and really that's what does it. "The fire whirl in the Thomas Fire," Josh says, and Tommy nods, smile lines deep around his eyes. "They'd just named it, and you felt like it was a little on the nose."

Buck's eyes brighten, like he can't help but be charmed by the story.

"He saved my ass," Tommy says, bumping his shoulder against Buck's, and Buck beams, blinks, grins at Josh. "And then when I invited him for drinks with the Harbor boys he beat me at pool and bounced before I could ask him out to dinner."

"That -- that did not happen."

Tommy's head tilts, brows dancing up his forehead, expression gently insulted.

Josh desperately reaches for the memory. A vague outline of it, even. The voice, a little concerned, a lot matter-of-fact as he informed Josh that they'd hovered too low over the fire, and if Josh could please send out a radio call to anyone on the ground in the area to clear out before the bird crashed to the earth and exploded, because his radio was out. Josh, who'd talked to enough air support to have a basic idea of what mechanics were causing the issue, reminding the voice of the maneuver he could use to steer out of it.

Josh, bright red and stifling his bashful giggles when the voice informed him he was good in a crisis and he should come down to The Rose so that Tommy and his team could buy Josh a drink.

Josh squints. Oh, he'd taken one look at Firefighter Kinard and chalked that up to wishful thinking, ordered an Uber before he'd sunk his first solid, and dipped before he could convince himself the gentle teasing was anything more than a man grateful he'd had someone in his ear reminding him he was a competent pilot with years of experience under his belt.

Josh blinks. "You were hitting on me."

Tommy runs his tongue over his teeth. "Unsuccessfully, yeah. The boys gave me shit for a month about it."

Buck has clearly already heard this story. He's staring at Josh like he wants to tease him, is reining it in by the skin of his teeth. There's nothing smug about it, which Josh is grateful for merely on the basis that he's seen the way these two look at each other and he's no competition for Tommy's attention at all, anymore.

"Well that's mortifying," he admits, and Tommy laughs, head tipped back, smile lines etched deep into his skin. Buck's face does something deeply endearing, and Josh has to look away, for a moment.

Tommy tips forward again. "It was character building. First attempt I made with witnesses, taught me I had to be a little less subtle." He shoots a significant look at Buck, who dips his chin towards his chest. God, Josh wants that. He'd been pretty sure he had it, for a hot second. His gaze is annoyingly wistful when Tommy turns back to him and catches it. "Can I grab you a beer?"

And Josh had kind of forgotten who was hosting this little shindig -- Maddie'd made noise about how sweet it was for Tommy to float the idea of a little celebration for their nuptials, when he heard the Buckley parents were coming back into town, and Chimney had just grumbled that Tommy was looking for excuses to get Buck on a dance floor, but he'd been pleased about it too, under the sarcasm. Josh can't quite hide the face he makes, though. He's not a snob about his alcohol, but all he's seen floating around here are Corona's and Bud Light. Buck shifts his weight, sways his hip into Tommy's.

"We could crack open those weird cheesecake sours you got last week," he suggests, and Tommy tilts his head, squints his eyes.

"They're not weird, you just have the palette of a frat boy."

"Well, Josh definitely has more refined taste than me, the flavor won't be lost on him."

Tommy grins at Josh. "Clearly that wasn't always the case," he shoots off, even as he's slipping his hand from Buck's shoulder, shifting to the side, backing away with a smarmy little grin on his face, and Josh throws his hands up in the air, sends the parting shot before he gets far enough across the yard that Josh has to yell.

"You can't try it out if you don't know it's on the menu!"

Buck and Josh both watch Tommy saunter away. Lord, Josh hopes Buck is taking full advantage of those glutes.

"Congratulations, again," Josh says, letting some of the put-upon ire drop out of his voice. "I know I've said this already, but -- I really am happy for you."

He's really only heard bits and pieces of Buck's absolutely ridiculous jump from solid, unflinching ally to bumbling crush on a beautiful man, but just like every other person on planet earth who discovers a facet of themselves that isn't considered normal by the world at large, he knows there are bumps in the road. Moments where you question yourself, and your place within the confines of society. Buck could have called it a wash, after acting a fool, but clearly he'd found something in himself he felt was worth pursuing.

Buck smiles, and not for the first time since he'd stumbled into Howie's hospital room, face covered in soot and Tommy's hand clenched in his like a life-line, Josh can tell there's something settled in him that hadn't been before. He knows the feeling well.

"I'm not sharing," Buck tells him, tongue in cheek as he smacks a meaty hand to Josh's shoulder, and Josh is too busy pretending not to struggle under the solid weight to think of something clever to say back.

-----

"You weren't kidding," Josh says to Chimney, as he openly stares at the couple dancing across the yard. Everyone else has been attempting at subtlety, but at Josh's words at least three people guiltily dart their gazes away from Buck and Tommy swaying together under a string of fairy lights.

"I should be out there dancing with my beautiful bride," Chimney says, and Maddie holds out a hand, a challenge in her eyes.

Sometimes Josh wishes he was less of a romantic, so he could at least pretend to find the way Chim's eyes sparkle a little exhausting.

Bobby is already spinning Athena into the circle of his arms as the quiet, steady thrum of an acoustic guitar floats across the little makeshift dance floor in the orange light of the yard. When Athena says something to Buck and Tommy, tucked together and speaking in soft voices two songs ago now, Bobby grins, and Buck ducks his head bashfully into the solidness of Tommy's shoulder. Whatever Tommy says back has Bobby pressing a laughing kiss to his wife's forehead as he guides them just far enough away to give Buck and Tommy some distance.

He finds Eddie Diaz moping on one of the patio chairs under little built-in pergola that makes Josh more than a little jealous of Buck's stumble into possibly the perfect man.

Hen and Karen have joined the dancing, too.

Eddie eyes him for a moment when Josh settles into the adirondack to his left. "You tired of the love-fest, too?" he asks, and Josh shakes his head, settling his chin on his hand to watch the annoyingly hopeful scene.

"Just -- taking it all in."

Eddie harrumphs, but out of the corner of his eye Josh can see him watching, too.

Maddie barks our delighted laughter when Tommy cuts in to spin her out of Chimney's arms, and Chim and Buck take that as their cue to conduct a frankly ridiculous waltz between the rest of the group.

Josh sighs like the damn romantic fool he is, and Eddie shifts on his right.

"You wanna...?" Josh tilts his head, and Eddie's face morphs into a shrug of an expression.

"I'm good here," Josh tells him, and Eddie purses his lips. "But you should join them."

Eddie rolls his tongue against his cheek, takes a sip of his beer, rolls his neck and darts his gaze across to the rest of his rag tag family. He nods, shifts his weight, rolls his hands down his thighs to find leverage against his knees to stand. "Find me for the Electric Slide. Tommy's a nightmare about line dances."

[miss-celestia13]

All Over Me

Jake x MC Smut One Shot

Words: 1.8k

Jake returns home long after midnight, bringing some good news with him. She’s already asleep and he decides to wake her in the best way, knowing his latest success will make her year.

Dual POV, as usual. It only changes once this time, their names are in bold when it happens. I hope you enjoy it if you give it a try! Thank you ❤️

Jake didn’t remember locking his car as gravel crunched under his jogging feet, focused entirely on getting inside to tell Manon something he’d been dying to since he left work. All signs of fatigue and stress dissipated when he pulled up to the cabin and saw she’d left the light on for him. The house was silent. He could only hear the creak of wood settling and the electronic sounds of their alarms engaging as he raced upstairs and crept inside their bedroom. His smile gentled as he padded to the bed and found her sprawled across his side, mouth slack, and the sheet had slipped as she slept, revealing her honeyed skin. He was certain that he had thoroughly explored every inch, using his mouth, hands, and teeth.

He knew if she woke to find him watching her, she’d laugh and tell him to get in bed before she banished him to the couch for waking her up. The mental image stole a breathy chuckle from his chest as he stripped down and decided to wake her up in the best way, completely unable to wait until morning light to tell her the good news. He silently went to her nightstand and slid it open, grabbing the velvet drawstring bag she kept her goodies in and taking out a slim black vibe before putting the rest away again. She lay on her back, legs crossed uncomfortably, and he knew she’d struggled to fall asleep. She was dead to the world as he crawled under the covers at her feet.

She made a murmuring sound as his hands pried her legs apart, shuffling to kneel between them as her spiced musk scent hit his bloodstream and sent his mind down lust-hazed paths. When she didn’t ask what he thought he was doing, he loosed a breath and pinned her leg to the bed, peppering her skin from her knee to her thigh with phantom kisses until he reached the apex of her thighs, smirking as he gave the same treatment to her other leg. She shivered, body tensing for a second as he hovered over her and turned to give her inner thigh a sharp little bite to make her gasp and mumble his name. He did the same to her other leg, harder this time now he knew she was awake. 

Jake grinned as she lifted the covers and her sleepy eyes locked on him, her fatigue clearing fast when he licked at his bottom lip and said, “I’m home, Sweetheart.” 

She cocked her head, and a dazed laugh tripped out of her mouth before she teased, “Oh, good. I thought you might be a horny ghost for a second.” 

Her tone was steady, but her breathing was quickening the longer he spent perched above her cunt, and a flush splashed her chest and neck with pink as he stared up at her. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said, chuckling before pressing a tender kiss into the scar on her hip. 

“Behave. Are you going to eat or just play with your food?” She asked in a breathy undertone, her brow arched and lips smirking at him, a challenge in her venom eyes that he could never back down from. 

“You know I like to take my time,” he murmured, breaking eye contact to drag a fingertip up the seam of her folds and feel the heat of her anticipation.

Manon chewed the inside of her cheek to keep quiet as Jake repeatedly teased her, barely grazing her clit with every pass of his finger through her dewy folds. She wasn't sure what had gotten into him and wasn't too interested in finding out as he finally lowered his head. She barely had time to brace herself before his mouth was on her. The gentlest of licks taunted her, and a soft sigh from the depths of her lungs released as his hot tongue opened her up and captured her essence, drinking her down with a pleased humm. His scratchy beard, clever mouth, and firm hands spreading her legs wider, pinning her down as he fluttered his tongue over her clit to make her cry out and bury her hands in his hair. 

He suckled her clit, drawing it into his mouth and swirling his stiff tongue around the tiny bundle of nerves. Heat cascaded through her as he groaned at the taste of her, and the fire only he could bring to life in her sprang to life as he relented to slide two long fingers inside her taut, wet heat. She flung her head back, teeth bared at the ceiling as he teased her with fingers and mouth, his tongue probing and delving into her sheened flesh, bringing her to the edge of release and leaving her hanging there as he backed up and fumbled for something on the bed. A quiet vibration made it over the roar of blood in her ears as she caught her breath and her heart tried to break free of its cage, sense abandoned her as anticipation robbed her of all rational thought. She was aware of herself talking, but she couldn’t understand a word of it. Jake simply smiled, crooked his fingers inside her, and pressed the vibrator against her clit, and he pulled his fingers. Her breath burst from her in a shout as her body fought the release, racing toward her faster than she was ready for it. 

The vibration intensified as her cunt flickered around his fingers, his eyes glued to her writhing form, and her tensing stomach told her she couldn’t hold it off for long. Her wetness coated his busy hand, making it too easy to hit every spot that drove her mad. Her mewls and moans turned to throaty cries, breath sawing, and her pulse was felt in every part of her, a second heartbeat in her core as he drove her to release. His eyes narrowed as she arched and shook her head, desperately fighting against the onslaught of sensations. He wouldn’t allow her to stay paused on the threshold of utter delirium. The toy changed patterns, his steady hand keeping it exactly where she needed. He added a third finger inside her dripping cunt, and the tinge of pain was too much, too good to bear for long. 

Her body arched off the bed as she sobbed urgently, sharp jabs of his fingers driving her too hard to hold it back. She let out a loud cry, the powerful, torn sound escaping into the silent room as he murmured her name and told her she was all he ever needed. The torrent of ripples and flutters spilled out from her core, and he allowed her no respite as he rose from his crouch, immediately manhandling her spasming body. He gathered up her legs, bent them over her torso to angle her ass in the air, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. The glint in his eyes was nothing short of predatory, and she trembled under his gaze, essence sliding down her inner thighs to soak the bed as black excitement ruled her. He used his arm like a steel band across her thighs to lock her in position, satisfied that she couldn't escape, and bent her further back.

It wasn’t fair. He knew what he was doing and had her trapped like prey. She could only pant through her nose as her chest heaved and her cunt quickly slackened around his length. Her release still lapped through her like luscious waves of steaming water as she screamed into her muffling hand. Her ass lifted to take him deeper, impossibly so, her inner walls fluttering wildly as she kept coming and he fucked her through it. Her cunt gripped his cock possessively, her fiery, sensitive flesh holding him captive. The brutal pleasure was so intense it was a burst of vivid scarlet light behind her quivering eyelids, wholly unable.

Somehow, she was pushed even further back. He withdrew from her tight clasp and slammed back in, his smile turning wicked as she pulsed around his cock, so deep inside her she foolishly thought they’d never be untangled. He soon found a rhythm that sent her reeling and stopped him from coming before she did. The mesmerizing sight of him using her body hard unleashed a guttural growl from her chest, every thrust was exquisitely emphatic and rough, her inner walls clenching with every drag of his cock. She was so slick and hot her cunt stroked and clung to his rigid length, sucked him, down, down, down. His dominance over her body was so consuming she no longer cared if she lost her mind in the aftermath. 

His plunging movements slowed, pace erratic as he turned his head and savagely bit her calf to smother his own desperate sounds. She didn't feel the pain, utterly absorbed in the pleasure that coiled and soared through her body. She couldn't imagine it feeling any better, but she wouldn’t risk voicing that aloud. He would take it as a dare and destroy her in the best way. It enthralled her, watching him as he raptly observed the erotic sight of her cunt swallowing his cock again and again. His sapphire eyes were heavy-lidded, face flushed, and intently focused on holding his own release back to make hers last. But she was in torment, wholly unable to withstand the razor edge she was balancing on, cutting her to the bone as the pleasure and pressure rising to steal her sanity demanded an outlet. 

She started begging, pleading through her gritted teeth, urging him to fuck her hard in a cracked and shivering voice, imploring him to make her ache. Make her scream. She wanted to feel him long after he left her body, a physical reminder of his love and worship of her. His midnight chuckle sent goosebumps scattering across her sweat-pebbled skin as he held down her twisted, quaking body with force and thrust within her taut cunt so viciously that her teeth rattled. He owned her in that moment, completely in control as she submitted to him and surrendered to the burning. Unable to move, talk, or retreat, she could only lie there and take it. 

Her orgasm was so violent, her inner walls clenched around his length, gripping him tightly, and dragged him into ecstasy with her. His feral growling and her choked cries blended as he buried himself inside her and emptied himself into her, flooding her completely. It was overwhelming. Even now, after all this time, his mastery of her still had the power to take her apart at the seams. She never doubted he’d be able to put her back together, her trust in him was set in stone. The strength of her release washed away all her worries, past, present, and future, leaving her only with warmth and love. Her twitching, aching body was leaden and light all at once, her pounding heart the only sound in her head. She wanted to stay in that rapturous, glowing place, to live and grow old together there, but Jake managed a few words that made her smile brighter than she had in weeks. 

“I found him. We can set the date soon, Sweetheart.”

~*~

Thank you for reading, liking or reblogging, I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed it. Take care and look after yourself 🥰❤️

[dyeher]

includes| keizo arashi x fem! reader x seishu inui

warnings| orgasm denial, mean benkei

notes| @audrinui @ken

There’s a time and a place for everything.

For eating, drinking and dancing. For having discussions about the future and planning weddings. For the clinical discussions of baby making, and the discussions about buying a house. For the ring and the wedding party and the colours of the walls and the type of wood you want the floor to be—mahogany.

You know what there is never a time and a place for? Putting you in your fucking place. Seishu is incensed when he gets home and you haven’t eaten. You haven’t touched a single one of the meals he took the time to prepare for you. And you’re so fucking adorable, and rumpled from working without eating that he almost tells you it’s okay.

He almost lets it fucking slide again. Because while he’s a hard ass in every aspect of your lives, he’s malleable in your hands. Or when you blink water lined eyes up at him and twist your hands together nervously and chew on your lip and tell him you’re sorry. He hates seeing you cry. He hates even more, when he’s the reason for your tears.

So he often lets Benkei deal with the punishment. And that is why you’re folded under the larger man whimpering. It’s why Seishu is wiping tears from your cheeks, and licking the saliva off the side of your face as he coos softly at you.

“He’s being mean isn’t he?” he says softly. “Being so mean to my baby’s little pussy,” he breathes as he kisses your cheek gently. The evidence is in the way your cunt sounds. Like a standing ovation going off in the room. Benkei is fucking into you so fast and hard that it echoes, and slaps and you yelp and twitch but you can’t move because Seishu is holding you still, his hands running down your tummy, his finger spreading your slick labia wide and urging you to–

“Look baby,” he breathes, voice a little deeper than before. “Look how bad he’s treating her,” he says, mouth hovering near your ear, tongue snaking out to lick the shell. “‘S so rough, hmm. If you were a good girl he’d fuck you so slow–”

And Benkei, the evil motherfucker that he is, he demonstrates; slows his asinine pace to fuck you in deep slow strokes that make your toes curl, and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“--and tell you what a perfect girl you are,” Seishu continues, his lips pressing soft, gentle kisses into the side of your neck. Warm and soothing until you’re lax.

“So perfect,” Benkei rumbles, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist and settling a little of his weight on you. He kisses you chastely. Just a fleeting brush of his lips against yours. “My perfect girl,” he coos. And for a moment you think he’s forgiven you for overworking yourself.

“But you were naughty,” Seishu whispers. His soft kisses transform into nips. The kind that sting. “And daddy has to punish you,” he continues.

Benkei pulls back his brows furrowed, his eyes narrowed on the way your cunt is literally creaming on him, leaving the sticky white evidence of your pleasure as he folds you; bends your knees back until Seishu takes a hold of them and spreads you open. “And now daddy has to punish this little pussy, because his girl wasn’t good,” Seishu taunts, his nips turn into bites, up the side of your face, your ear, the exposed flesh of your neck. Benkei is on his knees, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you onto his cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, his head falling back. “She’s so tight.”

Seishu glances down at the way your pussy looks, swollen and red and thoroughly abused and squints at his boyfriend. “Your cock is as thick as a coke can, I’m sure her pussy is not the problem here.”

“Please,” you whine, hazy eyes locking with Benkei’s. “Please daddy– oh– daddy!” You squeal, your legs attempting to kick when he makes a slow circle with his hips, his cock grinding into the spot that makes you squirt.

“She’s gonna cum,” Seishu warns as he adjusts his hold to wrap one arm along the backs of your knees and use his free hand to slap your cunt. “Yeah,” he laughs, giddy at the sound of your yelp, and then the subsequent sob. And the sound of his hand sticking to your cunt when he slaps it, and then unsticking. And the sound Benkei makes, an unhinged growl that lets Seishu know he should back away and let Benkei at you.

And he does, scrambling off the bed, his hard cock bobbing as he watches Benkei manhandle you in some kind of position that has your legs dangling over his arms and your back lifted off the bed, he’s literally using your body and Seishu is gaping. He’s seen the way Benkei gets when you’re creaming for him and yet every time it happens he is still wildly turned on and a little bit concerned by the raw power the man holds.

Benkei pulls you off the bed fully, makes you wrap your limp arms around his waist, throws your legs over the crook of his arm, cups your ass and fucks you standing. Seishu’s stomach clenches as he watches Benkei’s entire cock disappear into your body.

“Kneel underneath,” Benkei says, tone clipped. Seishu obeys without complaint, kneeling beneath your ass so he has a clear view of your body taking that fat cock.

“Love you daddy,” you slur into Benkei’s mouth. “Love you, love you, love you…”

And Benkei chuckles before he opens his mouth and lets you suck his tongue out of his mouth. Your lids fluttering and your walls spasming as you suck and lick and lap, lazy and dazed, and completely out of it. You’re distantly aware of Seishu suckling at the bottom of your pussy and then up the underside of Benkei’s cock whenever he pulls out.

And then there’s a finger in your ass and you’re squirming and wriggling and trying to shift away but Benkei’s controlling your movement and everytime he pulls you off his cock he pushes you back on Seishu’s finger, and then his tongue and just before you cum they stop. All holes are empty and you wail. Your fists beating into Benkei’s thick shoulder. “Want it! Want it please! Please make me cum!” You hiccup, tears track down your cheeks and mingle with the spit on your face.

Benkei is amazed by how quickly they seem to dry up when Seishu sinks his cock into your ass, and then Benkei fills you from the front. You shudder, a full body shudder that has your legs straining and your toes popping from being curled so hard. You’re also not breathing.

“Oh–” you gasp for air. “Oh!”

“Breathe,” Seishu coos, rubbing your waist and stomach. He’s doing nothing but standing there as Benkei controls your body and how much pleasure it gets. Until he’s losing himself in the feeling of your cunt and the vein on the underside of Seishu’s cock as it rubs against the vein on the underside of his.

This punishment lasted six denied orgasms, and one (1) case of pussy spanking Benkei notes. He went easy on you. He didn’t even have to slap your pretty face once to get you to focus on him. But that had more to do with Seishu than him.

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, your muscles are locked on the edge of orgasm and when he whispers against your tongue that‘s lolling out of your mouth for you to cum, you suck in a sharp breath and Benkei swallows your scream with a mind melting kiss. You cum so hard your body forces them both out. Liquid gushes from you so hard he gets weak in the knees as Seishu finds Benkei’s cock and pushes it back into you. Helps him fuck you until you’re both shaking and Seishu has to take you from him and curl you around his own body.

Aftercare is two hours long, and consists of a prayer of thanks that he went for the obscenely big tub as he and Seishu rub and massage you until you’re pliant, and then food and water and a t-shirt from Benkei and one of Seishu boxers.

You’re warm and cuddly and half asleep and when you fling a leg over Seishu’s hips and sleepily mumble about hoping one of them gave you a baby they lock eyes over head and exchange panicked ‘what the fuck’ expressions.

[plutos-little-space]

hi ! jus a smol question from som1 who's getting started on regressing :( u can ignore this ask if u dont want to answer its fine.

how do i regress/be little if i have no caregiver irl, and can't regress uhh physically...? (like use pacis, buy children things like clothes and stuff) is it weird if i want to find a cg online? jus som1 who could keep me company is all.

hi hi!! :>

in my experience with regressing i still have similar problems. since i can’t get a lot of the traditional regressing stuff i’ve substituted!! :)

But first off, the first thing you need to know is you don’t need to have a cg, (i don’t have one) it’s not a requirement to at all! and ofc there’s nothing wrong with having one!! just make sure it’s someone you trust!!!!

if you do want a cg, i wouldn’t exactly advise going on the internet, and if you do be sososososo careful people can be really creepy and weird :( make sure you’re comfortable with them and know them at least a little, but i still don’t super advise it :(

as for regressing without having access to all the traditional stuff;

plushies! especially ones you really love or make you feel small are fantastic! giving them names and playing with them is super nice! and ofc cuddling them!

as for food and stuff, i like cereal and stuff like apple sauce, any kid like food i can make! other are like peanut butter and jelly, apple slices, fruit gummies, stuff like that! you can also cut them into fun shapes!!! :D also water bottles are cool because you can pretend they’re sippy cups and if their not see through you can put any kind of juice or milk you want!!

Tv shows and other stuff! obviously most kid shows are super awesome!! i like bluey and my little pony a lot! also there’s tumblr and pinterest, tho ofc be careful on those bc again, people can be weird and creepy, if it’s wanted i can link some cool creators on both here and pinterest ( which are hard to find bc they censor stuff :/) and activities like color and drawing are always fun to do!

Change into comfy clothes!! pjs, onesies, even just sweatpants and your favorite hoodie, anything that can make you feel comfortable and small!

stim toys! i have this long rubber noodle (mind you i clean this thoroughly) and it’s honestly really nice to chew and have in my mouth when i’m little. any rubber stim toys, like stuff you can find at like walmart, are super nice and also not really suspicious, if you can get your hands on them! make sure you clean them!!!

sorry for the essay! :P i hope this helps and i’m sorry if it doesn’t make much sense, or there was to much info! just remember that you don’t need a cg to regress, don’t get me wrong i’ve heard it helps! but it’s not required! and also remember to be sososos safe on the internet!! and remember you are valid!!

i hope this helps! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

-Pluto

DNI BANNERミ★

[roetrolls]

Warnings: Um. Gore. Lol. Mainly the bone breaky type.

Mad Dash

This isn’t the first time Archie has woken up tied to a chair. He can feel his faculties returning, but his eyelids are slow on the uptake. Fighting the exhaustion in his limbs, the purpleblood rolls his shoulders and lets his head lull back, taking a deep breath as he tries to force his eyes open.

He’s remarkably calm for the situation, but then, he’s never been one to panic. He’s still waking up when a hand roots itself in his hair and holds his head in place, a blade coming to rest against his throat. That’ll perk a guy up.

“No funny business, got it? I see your eyes start glowing, you’re dead.” His assailant gives his head a jerk and Archie grunts in response.

“Fuck... Be gentle. M’tired.” He squints in the light of the room, grimacing slightly. Before him stands a goldblood, his god-awful haircut only slightly less notable than the pitch black pools where his eyes should be. “Hell d’you want?”

"I'll ask the questions," Somnia grits, his voice lending far more gravity to the situation than it frankly deserves. "What were you doing in my sister's room?"

"Your sister?" Archie slurs, brows inching together in confusion as he racks his foggy brain for context. It washes over him slowly, more a trickle than a pour, and he chews each word thoroughly as it leaves his mouth. "That's right. I'uz lookin' for your sister."

Somnia's empty eyes narrow. "Funny. I remember telling you not to do that."

"And I 'member tellin' you I'd do it anyways," he bites back, evidently more irritated by the rejection than he'd realized. Really though, what kind of brother turns away help when his sibling is in trouble?

The memory is coming into focus now, though not as sharply as he'd like. Weaver had finished Marrie's arm, right? Then it was back to his hunt for the missing godling.

He'd teleported without checking the destination. After half a week spent battering his powers against the strange psychic block that seemed to be blanketing her, Archie wasn't going to risk waiting when a clear vision of Nymira finally appeared before him.

And then he woke up here, lashed in this asshole's kitchen with a knife against his jugular.

What happened in the interim?

He doubts he'll get any answers from Somnia. Even without pupils, Archie can tell the goldblood is glaring daggers at him. Nothing but drama, these guys.

He can feel Somnia's tension plainly, carried through his hands and straight into the blade that threatens him, but the purpleblood is shockingly nonplussed. In fact, Archie is about as relaxed as Somnia is stiff, a fact that only loosens him further.

"First time?" He croons.

"What?"

"Look, we can take it slow if y'need to. Your first time holdin' a guy at knifepoint, I mean... It oughta be special."

Somnia stares at him, doing little to hide his disdain, and Archie offers a salacious grin in response.

"S'matter, baby? Not feelin' it?"

He wrinkles his nose, though he has little time to rebuke the taunt before another voice joins the fray. Dressed down more than Archie has ever seen him and looking exceedingly fed up with the commotion, Cylion steps from one of the adjoining bedrooms into the kitchen.

“Don’t answer him,” the winged troll grunts as he passes to the sink. “He’s just being annoying.”

“Plenty enough to go around.”

Cylion rolls his eyes and turns his back on them, Somnia’s interrogation now accompanied by the quiet clinking of dishes and steady pulse of water from the faucet. 

“Do you have to do that now?” Somnia huffs, angling his head towards Cylion.

“You put him in the kitchen. I’m going to use my kitchen.”

Archie studies Somnia with an intensity typically reserved for admiring his father’s craftsmanship, trying to assess where exactly those tarry eyes are pointed. Is he looking at Cylion or at him?  Could he get away with using his powers right now?

“Sounds like y’want me outta your hair,” Archie offers cheekily, watching for a shift in Somnia’s focus. What does that look like? “How ‘bout we pick this back up some other time?”

Cylion tosses a sneer over his shoulder. 

“Couldja least call off Ringo here? This whole hostage game seems a bit excessive.”

“Does it? You’re not exactly predictable.” He turns his attention back to the sink and shrugs. “For all we know, you were behind Nymira’s abduction in the first place.”

“Man, c’mon.”

“It happened outside your church, didn’t it?”

“You think I’m in league with Persep fuckin’ Lycaon? I ain’t that kind of crazy.”

Cylion’s wings twitch slightly, though he neglects to respond. Archie sighs, glancing between the brothers as he speaks.

“Look, I see the play. I get it. You got no clue what you’re gonna do with me, right? But your hands’re tied. You warned me once n’ I still came back. Can’t let your threat be empty, so now you gotta play warden.”

Both Somnia and Cylion seem to stall, the latter raising his head as if to listen for something and the former’s grip becoming less incensed. 

“Let’s just skip to the part where you tell me to fuck off n’ stay there, yeah?”

As if to punctuate––or perhaps mock––his mild attempts at diplomacy, a thud spills into the room from outside, soon accompanied by a quiet shuffling by the door. Archie realizes then, all too late, that he is not the one giving them pause.

Favion must crouch to enter the kitchen.

Once he is past the threshold, the hulking goldblood straightens his shoulders and grinds his jaw, eyes locking onto Archie as if he is something to be consumed. The clown shifts against his bindings as Favion lumbers closer, his sons watching on with shocked faces and bated breath.

Despite the danger he knows Favion to pose, Archie greets the man with a glib smile. “Aw, shucks, a petting zoo? You didn’t tell me this was a party!”

One massive, clawed hand stretches forward to grab Archie by the chin, fingers pressing into his jaw with frightening strength. When he opens his mouth to fire off another taunt, Favion’s hold grows tighter, sending a flash of white-hot pain searing through his skull.

He grits his teeth, bracing against the mounting pressure of Favion’s crushing grip. Then something crunches, audible to Archie from the inside out, and the taste of blood floods his mouth. 

Archie grunts, a lipless noise set somewhere between pain and surprise, breath rattling as he tongues the bone fragment now sticking through his inner cheek. Favion rumbles his pleasure, jaw clattering in a crude mimicry of the break.

“No jibes this time,” he gravels, tugging Archie from the chair by his shattered mandible. 

The transition is less than gentle. The violent motion sends a mouthful of blood washing back towards Archie’s throat, and the purpleblood suddenly finds himself choking on it as Favion begins to drag him from the room.

With a sputtering cough, he flings his roped-up hands towards the monster’s wrist, scrabbling to dig his nails into flesh in hopes of alleviating at least some of the pressure on his broken jaw. He gurgles around the blood still seeking entry into his lungs, heart pounding more from adrenaline than fear.

Favion carries on unbothered, tugging Archie to the door in slow, lumbering steps. Cylion and Somnia, on the other hand, appear absolutely horrified, both pale in the face and looking more than a little sick. He still can’t tell where exactly those eyes are looking, but Archie is almost certain Somnia meets his gaze before he is unceremoniously pulled from their view.

He doubts either of them will get much sleep.

---

Archie is no stranger to pain. Hell, he sometimes goes looking for it––getting his ass kicked might as well be one of his favorite pastimes.

This, though… 

He can’t exactly call this fun.

A brutal pop echoes through Favion’s dungeon of an abode, one more in the long list of sickening sounds to come from Archie’s body tonight. The pain in his jaw has ebbed somewhat at least, fading into background noise amongst the litany of other injuries he’s incurred. Favion holds him to the wall with a hand against his throat, at this point doing more to keep him standing than his own legs, and Archie wheezes softly around the blood that’s made a game of encroaching on his lungs.

The lack of air has made him lightheaded––too much so to focus––but he’s fairly certain he has not suffered any loss of consciousness while Favion has had his fun. None of his injuries seem a mystery to him, at least.

The one he’s just acquired is a freshly mangled arm, bones snapped at the elbow and shoulder wrenched from its socket. It’s a miracle the thing is still attached at all. Favion releases the limb to fall limply to his side, and Archie brays at the sudden motion. 

This is a bit much, even for him.

Even without the man’s nullifying psionics in the way, Archie doubts he’d be able to activate his powers in this state. He can barely picture where he is, let alone imagine where he wants to go.

Being unable to see his family doesn’t strike them from his thoughts, however.

Sorry, pops. I think I really fucked up this time.

A wet cough paints Favion’s wrist purple. The other hand aims above Archie’s line of sight, and soon even his inner monologue is silenced by the excruciating pressure that blossoms through his skull. He barely has time to guess what the man is doing before a snap fills the air, sharp and crisp, and Favion draws both arms back to admire the bloodied horn within his claws.

Archie slumps to the floor, groaning as his battered body folds in on itself. 

Looming over him and shrouded in darkness, Favion works his jaw until it forms a smile, the hunger in his eyes finally replaced with cool satisfaction. He ponders his prize a few moments longer, then shifts his gaze back to Archie, voice low.

“Run home, little Roatus.”

Archie’s eyes widen. He wastes no time in staggering to his feet and limping towards the stairs, breathing heavily as a trickle of blood begins to blot out the vision in his left eye. He clutches his shoulder and braces his back against the wall, practically floundering up the steps as Favion calls after him once more.

“Run home.”

---

There is no moonlight on the street. 

A thick blanket of clouds stamps out both moons, and Archie is left with only the soft glow of the streetlamps to guide him back.

Does he know his way?

Has he ever needed to?

When has Archie walked anywhere?

He teleports. He teleports ten, fifteen, twenty feet at a time, flashing forward only as far as his unmarred eye can see and stumbling into each leap like he expects to collapse. Blood pounds in his ears, faster than he’s ever felt it.

Dad.

He can feel his breath picking up as his surroundings become more and more familiar. 

I need you, dad.

He sees it. Just a few blocks away, standing regal and proud, Archie finally sees the church. A guttural cry rips itself from his throat, and he blips onwards in a rapid succession of bursts to fling himself up the steps to his home.

There, standing at the threshold to the House of Restoration, Archie grips the ornate handle and, for the first time in his life, stumbles through the door.

The next minute is a blur. Someone screams. Another races down the corridor shouting for the Restorer. Archie barely acknowledges the whirlwind around him as he blunders on, mind dazed and body beaten. 

Then Ailzea is in front of him, collecting Archie mid-collapse with worried hands and a hurriedness that marks yet another first for the night. 

A million apologies rush to Archie’s tongue, all of them dying on his broken lips.

Ailzea shushes him, cupping his battered face and smoothing his bloodied hair. Then, with a fervent kiss upon his forehead, Archie’s father snaps his neck.

[briarpatch-kids]

I feel like a lot of people have different thoughts on this and want some different opinions. If you can’t answer that’s fine.

You think people can self diagnose with level 2&3 autism? I see some people say no because if bad enough would be diagnosed but know not true, see happen in person currently.

What about support needs? Can level 2&3 (medium and severe) support needs be self diagnosed? Should these things be left to professionals even if can’t be diagnosed and is obvious?

This is a really complicated question and really far above my pay grade (meaning nobody's paying me enough to answer firmly yes or no)

The main thoughts and concerns I have is that levels 2 and 3 autism have a lot of overlapping presentation and symptoms with other conditions that could be missed because someone might just assume what they have is autism and call it good. Kinda my same concerns with self diagnosed "severe" conditions in general.

As far as support needs go, I think there needs to be a lot more understanding of what support needs actually are and how they work because right now Disability Tumblr's understanding of it sucks and it's making it hard for people who DO have high support needs to find each other. Most people don't realize support needs mean like... "can you bring a fork to your mouth then chew and swallow food," "can you wipe your bum thoroughly and get your pants back up without help." Not "can you go to the grocery store and get food ingredients, put them away, and cook dinner" or "can you live alone"

So like... maybe? Maybe not? As I said it's above my pay grade, I'm not the Autism Police.

[bigolbadblog]

uhhh i'm back on my bullshit

thinking bout. stuffing mr. the duke

okay first off. the capacity on that man? absolutely unbelievable. you can fit SO MUCH good food in that bad boy

he loves eating for pleasure. naturally. but most of the time he's eating for mouth-pleasure more than belly-pleasure, if that makes sense. the flavors, the mouthfeel, even the aromas. he also enjoys the heavy, warm, slightly achy feeling of a true stuffing; it's just that he can put away so much food without even beginning to feel it, so much so that reaching that state of feeling overfilled takes WORK. a feast that would leave you stuffed to the gills is just about enough to bring him to "comfortably full." which is really the most he has time for, on a typical day. what with travelling all over and running a small business and all, he's a pretty busy guy.

but when he does get the chance to fully and i mean fully indulge his appetites.... oh boy. Oh Man. oh boy oh boy oh boy

most of the time i imagine him more as a feeder or a self-feedee. (as a side note, yes he does find an element of vicarious pleasure as a feeder in seeing his partners / playmates get utterly stuffed on a fraction of the food it'd take for him. it's not the same as experiencing it for himself, but it's still lovely to hear them panting and burping and moaning, as well as getting to rub their poor little bellies. plus, it's kind of adorable to him. aw, that's all it takes to get you so full you can't even think straight, much less get out of your chair? how sweet.)

when he wants to get stuffed, though, he gladly welcomes assistance. like i said, it's a big job. if you're cooking for him, prep will take you days. if you're with him at a restaurant or a banquet, it's gonna be your job to make sure his plate is never bare and his glass is never empty.

he's a man of taste. he likes variety in what he eats. he's not a snob- if it's good, he has no issue with polishing off an entire roast ham or a cook-off sized cauldron of chili, repetitive though it may be- but if you truly want to win his heart, offer him multiple courses of many different foods. it's the best way to keep his interest piqued and his palate entertained.

either way, it's gonna. take. hours.

he will notice how flustered you're getting as you bring him plate after plate. and he WILL tease you about it.

you couldn't possibly keep up with him, and you're too busy to try, but there will be several points where you do need to sit down and eat with him. all your meals and all the space in between them go by while he's still eating continuously.

he's a pretty chatty guy, but while he eats, he likes to focus on eating. he's surprisingly quiet, except to praise the food (and tease you, of course).

maybe about seven or eight courses in, you start to notice he's resting his free hand (that is to say, the hand that isn't constantly ferrying more food and drink to his mouth) on the curve of his belly. but he still keeps up the pace as he eats.

because he's so big, he doesn't show the bloat of a stuffing as obviously as smaller people would. which contributes to the impression that all this food is genuinely going into a bottomless pit. but sometime after you lose count of how much food you've brought him, you look at him and notice subtle changes in his silhouette. the curve of his belly gets perkier, with more bulk higher up, and he leans slightly further back in his chair to give himself room to breathe. and still he keeps eating

he's a very civilized eater. cuts his food into dainty bites, chews thoroughly, takes delicate sips of his drink, etc. because of those habits, he doesn't get super gassy super fast. but even so, with the amount of food he's packing away, yeah, there's going to be some air that'll need to get worked out as all that begins to digest.

civilized burper, too. surprisingly quiet, yet a true baritone. at first, he favors letting out several smaller burps rather than singular long belches. he covers his mouth with his napkin each time- at least, he does until he gets so full that a belch surprises him in the middle of a sentence.

at that point, he does take a break from eating to have a cup of hot green tea and let his stomach settle. if you ask nicely, he'll let you rub it. it takes you a while to find the sweet spots amid all that bulk, but you will absolutely know when you get it right. a few more longer, louder burps, but more than that, the sighs that man lets out when you rub him right... ��

and then dessert, of course! he'll let you hand-feed him at this point, as it's getting difficult for him to sit forward and reach the food. but he absolutely expects you to keep to his own standards of civil dining. no mess, no rush, no oversized bites. that black forest gateau is so lovely - it would be a shame for any of it to go to waste.

when the feasting is finally concluded, his face is flushed, his breathing heavy, his already massive belly pert and swollen. like any classy gentleman, he likes to finish his meals with another cup of tea or coffee, a cigar, and conversation. (this next part is for those of y'all who like some recognizable sex activities in your feedism:) but you've been so attentive and eager, and he knows how badly you've been wanting him this whole time, so while the water is heating up for that drink (and okay, you set the heat so low that it's gonna take a while), he'll give you your dessert. you might have to get a little creative with positions, though, because...

that man is not getting up when this is done. wherever you are, he's made his seating space comfortable (or instructed you on how to do so) ahead of time. cuz he's gonna be there for a while. after you share a post-meal drink, smoke, and conversation, he drifts off into a food coma right where he is.

just. a truly delightful time to be had by all.

[polksaladbutler]

req! maybe drunk reader and austin takes care of her?

take me home…

pairings : austin butler x drunk!fem reader

warnings: mentions of food, alcohol, short srry

** flyn: stands for first letter of your name :)

after a night out with your friends and an earache car ride back home, you staggered your way into the house as if you had lost a limb. austin took your coat and your heels which you had kicked off a few seconds before. “my legs feel like jello.” you giggled, looking down at your legs. “hey, what flavor of jello do you think my legs are?” austin laughed at your silly question.

“they all taste the same.” he said, guiding you to the living room, and helping you to the couch. “they do not! austin, we need… a jello-tasting event. let’s go get some.” you sat up but austin pulled your arm back down. “nah uh… tomorrow we can, for now, i want you to lay here.” austin leaned over the couch and kissed you on the forehead. “where are you going?” you groaned as you threw your hand over your eyes.

“getting my baby some fruit.” he announced from the kitchen. “can you use my favorite bowl?” you begged, your plead being muffled by the pillow you buried your face in. “of course baby.” your favorite bowl being the one you made with austin. it had “flyn + a” in the middle and hearts all around the outer edges. it was considered your favorite bowl because you and austin worked on it together, it meant something to you.

he walked over to the fridge and brung out some cases of different fruits, berries, grapes, and apple slices. he washed off the grapes and berries and placed a variety in the bowl. he walked over to you, you were hanging on by a thread, trying not to fall asleep. “sit up… you got it.” your body slowly moved up as austin pulled you up by your arm. “you sound sexy when you say that.” you giggled as austin placed the bowl in your lap.

“do i?” he laughed along with you. “mhm…” you smiled, sticking a few too many fruits in your mouth. “hey hey, don’t put that many in there.” he said, holding his hand under your mouth. “is good though.” you spoke with your mouth full. “stop talking and chew it.” he shook his head and removed his hand.

while you chewed up the fruit, austin attempted to reach for a blueberry. you speedily smacked austin’s hand. “i can’t have any?” he pouted. “i’ll feed them to you.” you fished for a strawberry and fed it to him. “thank you, baby.”

after you finished, austin took the bowl back to the kitchen and thoroughly washed it. he put it on the rack next to the sink, letting it air dry. you laid back down on the couch. “we gotta remove that pretty makeup.” austin walked back over to you.

“why i gotta do so much?” you elongated the last word. “it’s bad for your skin.” he only knows that because you refuse to go to sleep with any makeup. “i’ll be back.”

austin ran upstairs and grabbed your makeup wipes and your moisturizers. he came back downstairs and saw that you were practically knocked out. your mouth was open, eyes closed but you could see the whites of your eyes slightly. the last thing he wanted to do was to wake you up.

he crept over to the couch and moved your head onto his lap. he pulled your eyelashes off, forgetting that they are glued to your eyelid. “ow!” you squeezed your eyes. “i’m sorry baby.” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “relax your eyes so i can get this makeup off..” he spoke softly, you relaxed your eyes and slowly fell back into your unconscious state.

he began wiping your makeup off, and it took him long enough. after a stressful seven minutes, he placed some moisturizer on his hands and lathered his hands with it. he rubbed it on your face and made sure your face was completely moisturized.

“thank you austin…” you sleepily smiled. “you’re welcome my princess.”

[tosahobi-if]

(puts ??? In my mouth) (chews thoroughly) (run away)

NOOOO BRING THEM BACK

[snkts]

The Good Fight - Ouija & Siren

“Ah, Logan. There you are.” Charles says from Cerebreaux. His voice bounces off the walls of the room. It’s almost a perfect sphere, and it turns into an echo chamber. “Welcome home.” 

“Hey, Chuck.” Logan puts his hand on the back of Charles’ chair. “Got here as soon as I could.” Charles looks up at him with a smile.

“I appreciate your haste, old friend. I hate to interrupt your vacation, but this is a rather pressing matter.” 

“It’s fine.” Logan shakes his head. He’d been minding his own when the call came in, standing at one of his favourite seedy bars (Tony Slim’s, an unknown and unwashed gem) and playing pool. A good way to unwind and destress after missions and mansion life. (Yeah, yeah, he knows, what a hard existence he’s leading now.) But his comm had gone off, and that was more important. He’d always be there when his family needed him, and they needed him now. “Tell me about the kid.” 

“Right.” Charles looks back at the display. Rendered in blue light is an array of photographs of a young girl - a yearbook photo, family portraits. Beside them all is a neat rectangle of statistics and flashcard-style information. “Her name is Samantha Everett, from Chicago, Illinois. She just recently turned seven years old-” 

“So I’m guessing she didn’t go out for a pack of smokes.” Logan shoved his other hand in his pocket. 

“Doubtful.” Charles typed in a few commands, enlarging some of the photos. 

“Seems a little young to be getting her powers.” Logan remarked, frowning. “What kinda baggage are we looking at?” 

“Surprisingly, none.” Charles said. “We’ve already conducted interviews with her parents, teachers, and even her babysitter. As far as anyone knows, she’s a happy, healthy little girl.” 

“I’m gonna want to talk to ‘em myself.” Logan said, chewing the inside of his cheek. Charles nodded. 

“And you will.” Charles shifted, reached into his pocket, and withdrew a paper-wrapped plastic straw before holding it out. “They’re eager to meet with you.” Logan blinked at the straw, then accepted it. He raised it in a silent ‘cheers’, removed the wrapper, shoved it into his pocket, and stuck the straw between his teeth. It wasn’t nearly as good as a cigar, but if he wasn’t allowed to smoke in here, it was better than nothing. He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, chewing on the straw. 

“So, happy, healthy little girl just up and vanishes.” He mused. “With no sign of a struggle.”

“None.” Charles confirmed. “And before you ask, there’s been no sign of her on Cerebreaux, either.” He reached up and removed the helmet, resting it in his lap. “Wherever she is, she’s not using her abilities.” 

“You said she’s a telepath?” 

“Something tangential.” Charles put the helmet away and wheeled backwards out from the desk. “When my gift manifested, I was the only one hearing voices. If other people had reported the same, I may have felt less…” 

“Alone?” Logan supplied. Charles hummed and nodded. 

“Yes.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Logan plucked the straw - now thoroughly mangled - from his mouth. 

“Well, Charles?” He turned towards the door. “Might need half an hour for this one.” Charles chuckles and follows him across the catwalk. 

“Don’t tell me, you’re slowing down in your old age?” He asks, grinning and arching a brow. Logan scoffed. 

“Watch it, Junior.” But he’s laughing, too. 

***

The Blackbird touches down in what looks to be some sort of baseball field. Nothing too fancy. The sort of thing that made Little League teams feel important, but that's about it. Logan stepped off the gangplank, one hand in his pocket and the other hanging loosely at his side. He glanced around as his boots met the grass. It's empty aside from a small group of people - five of them - huddled a ways away from the jet. He could smell their anxiety even from where he stood. It was brought over to him by the breeze that ruffled the grass and plucked at his hair. The parents he would’ve recognized even without the family photos. The mom had the same straight ash-blond hair as her daughter. She got her daddy’s nose, though. The other hint that they’re the parents are the eyes. Not just the colour, though it’s the same green-hazel on the dad as stared back from the school photo. The dark bags and red rims tell it all. The scent, too. The salty, sickly-sweet smell of grief and tears. That wasn't something you could fake easily. The other three were a separate family unit. A girl - maybe seventeen, eighteen at the oldest - and her parents. Her hair was red and tightly braided, a similar shade to her father’s short crew cut. She kept clutching and releasing the too-long sleeves of her sweater. Nervous. Not afraid, nervous. And judging by how frayed her sleeves were, she’d been doing this a lot - it wasn’t a ‘new’ nervous, not brought about by his and Charles’ arrival. Her mom was a different story. Her hands were on the girl’s shoulders, and her freshly-manicured nails dug into the mint-green fabric as the two mutants approached. Logan furrows his brow but says nothing. Charles does the talking for him. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Everett,” he begins. “I’m-” 

“Professor Xavier!” Mr. Everett let go of his wife and stepped forward, shaking Charles's hand in both of his. “Thank you so much for coming. We still haven't heard anything. We’ve been worried sick, and we didn't know who else to call-”

“There's always the MRA.” The redhead’s wife sniffs. Logan scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Not if you wanna see her again.” He says. Mrs. Everett’s heart rate spiked. 

“What?” She gasps, hand flying to her mouth. The redhead’s wife’s had a fast pulse the whole time. She shifted closer to her husband, pulling their daughter along with her. Her husband, the red head’s, scent shifted from anxious to aggressive to anxious again when Logan grinned at him. Big man didn't feel so big after all. Still big enough to open his mouth, though.

“And you are-?” The redhead clutches at his wife and daughter. 

“Logan.” Logan replies. He turns his body to face the redhead square. “Who’re you?” The redhead clenched his jaw in an attempt to rally and puffed out his chest.

“I’m Lyra’s father.” The effort to put more bass in his voice was noticeable. Logan blinked at him, one brow raised to indicate how little that meant. He glanced at the girl, then at Charles. 

“Samantha’s babysitter.” Charles supplied.

“Ah.” Logan nodded. He’d figured, but it was good to get the confirmation. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Everett.” Charles wheeled forward to once again take charge of the conversation. “Logan is the one I told you about over the phone. You would be hard pressed to find a better tracker.”

“There isn’t one.” Logan said, crossing his arms. “Doesn't matter where she is, I’ll find her.” Mr. and Mrs. Everett smiled.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Everett says, reaching to hug her husband’s arm. 

“If there’s ever anything-” Mr. Everett begins, but Logan cuts him off with a raised hand. 

“Save it for when the kid’s back watchin’ Saturday morning cartoons.” And then he rocks his weight back, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Now, how’s about we get outta this field and talk somewhere more private?” 

“Oh. Yes, of course.” Mr. Everett nods. “We actually live just across the street from the stadium. That’s why we suggested meeting here.” The couple turns to go, Lyra and her family at their heels. Charles and Logan follow behind, Logan matching his pace with Charles's, never straying from his side. It takes a concentrated effort to let Charles into his mind, but he can manage enough to get his point across. 

Babysitter’s parents seem shady, he thought. I don’t trust them. 

They do not trust you either, old friend. Charles’s voice in his head. They’re quite suspicious of the both of us. 

Figures. Logan struggled not to scoff out loud. Think we’re gonna have to worry about a phone call? 

Perhaps we will. The thought has crossed their minds once or twice. Charles mused. We’ll have to be alert.

Always am. Logan returned, then relaxed as his mind closed and he put more of his focus into the world around them. The wind through the faint trees scattered at the park’s edge, and the residential yards across the street. Birds chirping - robins, sparrows, chickadees. The hum of insects, the rustle of their footsteps, the sound of a dog panting a few streets away. A nice, quiet neighbourhood. So painfully upper-middle-class that the lack of white picket fences felt like an oversight. Given the time of day, most people were out, as demonstrated by the many empty driveways. Didn’t stop a few nosy neighbours from peeking through their blinds, but that wasn't surprising. As long as they kept out of his way, Logan would pay them no mind. 

They approached a quaint little two-story bungalow, white siding and blue shutters, flower boxes under the window. The path up to the front door was cobblestone, greys and sandy browns framed on either side by perfectly manicured grass. There was a single step up to a small concrete porch that was barely larger than the front door. Logan lagged behind just long enough to ensure Charles got up alright before joining everyone inside. 

“Nice place.” He comments. Mr. Everett shoots him a long-suffering look. 

“The next door neighbour is HOA president.” He said. Logan let out a noise that was half sympathy, half amusement.

“You poor bastard.” He says, shaking his head in sympathy. Mr. Everett nods, and his shoulders relax a bit. Good. If they were calm, they’d give better intel. Might be easier for Charles to sort through, too. They stepped through the foyer to the family room, wide and spacious, a cream carpet, white walls that were covered in photos and paintings. There’s a fireplace, and the mantle is covered in more pictures, some figurines - animals, mostly, one or two that looked like Disney princesses. At least one that was some unrecognisable lump of clay, probably made by a grade schooler. Three guesses who, and the first two don’t count. 

“What about you?” Logan asks. Lyra’s parents look up from where they’ve settled themselves on a loveseat. “You live around here?” 

“The street behind this one.” Lyra speaks up suddenly. Logan shifts his attention to her. She’s small, and skinny. A smattering of freckles across her nose. Her hair pulled into two braids, done tightly and bound in elastics. And still pulling on her sweater sleeves. It’s a miracle the damn things hadn’t fallen off. “And a few houses down. I used to come in through the back gate when I…” She trailed off and looked around, realising people were staring at her. She ducked her head to hide from the attention. Logan glanced at Charles, then stepped around the glass-topped coffee table to crouch in front of Lyra. 

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He says gently. “Anything you can tell us helps. That gate you mentioned - anyone else use it?” 

“Just us.” Mrs. Everett comes out of the kitchen with a tray of glasses. Lemonade, by the smell of it. Store bought - too artificial to be home-made - but a nicer brand - real lemons and sugar. “There's a lock on the back. We have the key, Ted and Aimie and Lyra have a key,” she nodded to indicate Lyra and her parents, “and my mother has a key. And Jack’s father.” After setting the tray down, she put her hand on her husband’s arm. 

“But neither of our parents live in town.” Mr. Everett - Jack - says, bending over to lift some of the glasses from the tray. He passes one to Charles, who accepts it with a smile and a quiet ‘thank you’, then one to Lyra’s father, Ted. Then he passes a glass to his wife, then Aimie, then holds one out to Logan. Logan eyes it, then looks back at Jack with a raised eyebrow. 

“Wouldn't happen to have a beer, would’ya?” He asked. Jack sighs and pushes his free hand through his hair. 

“I could go for a beer.” Jack mumbles. He turns and heads past a marble-top counter into the kitchen. There's the sound of a fridge opening, a clinking rustling noise, and Jack returns with two bottles held between his fingers.

“Cheers.” Logan says as he accepts his drink. Jack nods. 

“We have a bottle opener around here somewhere…” He turns, and Logan huffs. 

“So do I.” His claws extend with a snikt from them and a gasp from the humans. He wedges the blade under the bottle cap and twists his wrist. The cap flies off. He catches it, retracts his claws, and stuffs it in his pocket as he tips the beer back. 

“So.” Charles says pleasantly, sipping his own drink. “What can you tell us about your daughter?” 

“Oh, uh…” Mrs. Everett blinks, closing her mouth. Then she collects herself. “Well, she’s very shy. She has some friends, she does well in school… She’s a normal little girl.” Logan didn't miss the look Ted and Aimie exchanged. He glared at them. 

“Got something to say?” The edge in his voice made them flinch. 

“Just that-” Aimie starts, then stops. Ted puts his hand on her shoulder. 

“Normal little girls don't do the things she does.” He’s trying to be defiant.

Cute. 

Logan growls. In the same moment, Mrs. Everett stands. 

“There is nothing wrong with her!” She snaps. 

“Marcy-!” Jack cautions, putting his hand on her arm. 

“Everyone, please!” Charles spoke up. Logan settled somewhat and took another swig of beer. The humans quieted too. Charles paused to have a sip of lemonade. “I understand that emotions are running high right now. A child has been taken. It is only natural that you might feel stressed or defensive. But the best way we can help you right now is through rational discussion. The more information Logan and I get, the sooner we can ensure Samantha is brought home safely. That is what we all want, correct?” A silence. Jack and Marcy nod, Lyra nods, and after a beat, so do Ted and Aimie. Charles nods as well. “Very good.” He set his glass down on the coffee table, minding the coaster. “Now, let us resume our discussion. We’ve brought up Samantha’s gift multiple times, now. Could you explain to us what that is?” Marcy nodded, then slowly pried herself off of her husband and sat in an armchair. Jack rested his hands on the back of the chair. 

“We thought it was Lyra, at first.” Marcy begins. 

“But it wasn’t.” Aimie says, grabbing at her daughter’s hand. Lyra looks up at her, then back at the floor. Logan grunted. 

“Wait your turn.” That quieted Aimie down, even if her face looked like she wanted to say some non-PTA-approved words. Tough luck. Marcy, by contrast, smiled. Her shoulders loosened and her heart rate slowed just a touch. She was grateful. Another good thing. 

“She told us she heard voices. And we were alarmed, but-” 

“Not-” Lyra started, then clamped her mouth shut as her scent spiked with fear. But Logan just looked at her and tilted his head curiously. She swallowed and tried again. “Not voices. Just one voice.” 

“Whose?” Logan asked, facing her fully. She started pulling at her sleeves again, letting go of her mother’s hand in favour of fiddling. 

“My Nana’s.” She says, then blinks. “Um, my grandmother on my mom’s side. Her name was Nancy, and she, um…” 

“My mother passed five years ago.” Aimie said, putting her arms around her daughter’s shoulders. 

“Heart failure.” Ted supplies. Charles nods and folds his hands in his lap with a sympathetic hum. 

“I’m sorry. And you said you heard her voice, Lyra? Could you elaborate on that?” He asks, and she nods. 

“I was walking Sammy home from school like I do every day. We have one of those weird schools where it’s mostly a high school, but then there’s a bit at the back for the elementary schoolers.” 

“It’s a private school.” Jack cuts in. “It’s smaller, but they teach the kids how to sign, and Sammy’s mute, so we thought it’d be good for her to be around people who could actually communicate.” 

“Mute, huh?” Logan chewed at his lip. “So, chances are she didn’t call out when she got taken. Keep going, kid.” Lyra nods, even though she keeps her eyes on the floor. 

“We got to the back gate, and I unlocked it for her. And she always wanted a high five before we said ‘bye’. It’s our thing.” She twisted the fabric some more. Her breathing hitched. “So I did, and…” She sniffles. Logan tilts his head and crouches down, setting his beer on the table. 

“And what, darlin’?” He asked. (Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles lean forward and slide a coaster under the beer bottle.) 

“I heard my Nana.” Her voice was even quieter now. “Loud and clear. She told me to tell my grandpa not to go in his car, because his breaks were broken. And I got freaked out, so once Sammy was in her yard, I closed the gate and ran home.” 

“She told us about what she heard.” Ted says quietly. “At the time, we thought maybe it was some kind of divine intervention.” Logan cast a glance back at Charles, who nodded subtly. That fucking figured. When mutants do weird things, it’s a curse, a disease, something to be fixed and cured and punished. But when it was their own kid? It was an act of God. A miracle. (Until it got too much to handle - then it was back to being a curse again.) 

“I didn’t know what to think.” Aimie says. “I just mentioned it to my dad because I was worried. He checked the breaks to reassure her, but-” 

“But they were actually broken.” Logan finished. Aimie nodded. 

“Just like she said.” 

“We didn’t know about any of that at the time.” Jack said, squeezing the back of Marcy’s chair tightly. “We thought it was strange that Lyra didn’t come say hello like she normally does when she drops Sammy off, but thought maybe she was just busy. Nothing to comment on, you know? So I picked Sammy up to hug her hello, and one of my old war buddies was suddenly talking about being cold.” 

“Us Army,” Charles offers. 

“Canadian Special Forces.” Logan said. 

“Marines.” Jack replies, easing his grip. “Swanson was his name, Fred Swanson. KIA. He just kept saying, ‘It’s cold here, kid.  It’s real cold’.” Marcy reached up to put her hand on her husband’s. She gave his fingers a squeeze. The tense look on his face and shift in his scent hinted that he needed the comfort. 

“Do you believe he was speaking to you?” Charles asked.

“No.” Jack didn't hesitate. “Fred never called me ‘kid’. We were the same age. He called me Jackie.” 

“I heard my grandmother.” Marcy said. “She was just singing. The same songs she used to sing when she was gardening.” 

“I see.” Charles frowns. “And what did you do?” 

“Got us out of the house.” Jack shrugs. “I thought we were hearing things. I thought- I thought maybe there was something wrong with our carbon monoxide detector. So I got us out and called the emergency number to get someone to come check it, and everything came back clean.” 

“But it kept happening?” Logan prompted. Marcy, Jack, Aimie, and Ted nodded. 

“Not the same voices.” Marcy said. “Different ones, every time.” 

“And it was every time.” Jack picks his beer bottle off the counter he’d set it on and takes a pull. “Every time we touched her, or she touched us. It didn’t stop. I would’ve thought I went crazy if Marcy wasn’t hearing it too.” Logan frowned, looking over at Charles. 

“That’s not a telepath.” He says. 

“No, it isn't.” Charles steeples his fingers and furrows his brow. “At least, not the typical sort. I can understand how that might have been troubling to you. Did you tell anyone else?” 

“We called around to different resources.” Marcy said. “That's how we found out about your school. We emailed you not long after.” Charles nodded but said nothing. 

“So how else do you factor in?” Logan looks to Lyra. 

“I was the last person to see Sammy before she vanished.” She said, her voice cracking. “But I didn’t do anything! I swear, I-” Charles held up a hand. 

“It’s alright, Lyra.” He soothes her, cradling his glass of lemonade. “I know for a fact you did nothing wrong. This is just part of our investigation.” Lyra nods again. “Just tell us what you saw.” 

“She was just playing in the backyard.” Lyra said, graduating to chewing on the ends of her sleeve. “I was worried. She hadn't been to school in a while and nobody knew why, we just heard she was sick.” Logan and Charles glanced at Jack and Marcy. 

“We pulled her out of school.” Marcy said, fiddling with one of her earrings. “We didn't want people knowing she was a mutant until we had the, ah, resources, to handle her- gift.” 

“So I hadn't been walking her home, and it kinda felt… It was weird. I guess I missed her.” Jack smiled at this, sad though it was, and Marcy reached out to take Lyra’s hand. Lyra accepts the gesture in spite of the look Ted and Aimie exchange. “So when I was passing by their house, I just… Looked over the fence.” She grimaced and let go of Marcy’s hand. “Oh, god. That makes me sound like a creep. But I looked in, and I saw her, and she was just playing. She had her dollhouse and her bike and a few other things. And she was just playing. So I called to her and waved hello and she waved back. I tried to get her to come high five me, like we always did, but she didn’t want to. Guess I know why.” She shrugs and pulls her knees to her chest, locking her arms around her legs. “We had a conversation for a little bit. Nothing really important. I was asking how she was feeling, she was telling me about the story she came up with for her dolls. Something about a senate that got infiltrated, and trying to find who the bad guy was. She did that one a lot. And then I got a phone call, and I looked away for a bit, and when I looked back, she-” Lyra’s voice broke and she buried her face in her knees, holding herself tighter. “She was gone.” 

“Who called you?” Logan asked. Lyra kept her face buried and shrugged. Logan waited. Eventually, she spoke again. 

“Brian Casey.” She mumbled. When she looks up, her face is bright red, and her pulse is elevated. “He’s, um, a boy from school. We talked for a minute or two, and I turned to wave bye to Sammy, and I didn’t see her.” 

“Was there anything strange about the phone call?” Charles asked. Lyra nodded. 

“Yeah. I asked Brian about it the next day, and he had no idea what I was talking about.” Her face twisted into a frustrated frown. “But I know it was him. We even talked about a chemistry assignment we’d done together.” 

“But he denied it the next morning?” Charles pressed. 

“According to him, it never happened. … And there was nothing in either of our call logs.” Charles and Logan stared at each other. They both nod. 

“That’s all I need to hear.” Logan crossed his arms and rocked his weight back on his heels. Then he looks back to Jack and Marcy. “You got anything important to her I can take with me? A stuffed animal, a blanket…?” 

“Part of Logan’s gift is enhanced senses.” Charles explains. “Bloodhounds are quite envious of his ability to follow a scent.” 

“If it’s something that makes her feel safe, it might help me get her to come out if she’s hiding.” Logan adds. 

“Oh.” Marcy says as the humans glance between each other. Then she stands up. “I think I know just the thing.” She steps around the chair, manoeuvres around Charles with a quiet ‘’scuse me’, and heads up the wooden staircase by the door to get to the house’s second level. Logan tilts his head, following her footsteps, the creak of the door, the pad of socks on carpet, her mumbling, the quiet ‘there you are’ when she finds what she needs.  And then she retraces her steps and joins them in the sitting room again.

“Here.” She held out a shapeless, threadbare blob of fabric that had, at one point, been a plush lion. “This is Thimble. I-” She flushed. “I had a hard time saying ‘Simba’ when I was little. Sammy sleeps with him every night.” 

“That works.” Logan reached out and took the toy in one hand. He glanced over to Lyra and added, “You said the last place anyone saw her was the back yard?” Lyra nodded. Logan smirked. “Half an hour.”

“What?” Ted asked. Logan was already moving past them to the sliding glass door in the back of the kitchen. 

“That’s how long it's gonna take me to find the kid.”

“But she's been missing for three days.” That was Jack. Logan didn't turn around.

“I know.” He said, pushing the door open. “That's why I gave myself extra time.”

****

Finding the scent had been easy. It was all over the place. And yeah, it matched the scent that clung to the toy, Thimble, so he had double confirmation it was her. The artificial fruit scent of children's shampoo, goat’s milk, sidewalk chalk, grass and dandelions, petrichor, something not-quite but similar to ozone, the worn rubber of her shoes that was just a bit burnt from the lights that would come on when she stomped, bananas, washable markers, and granite. A little bit of sweat, which made sense if she’d been playing outside, but no fear. Highly unusual for a kidnapping victim. Her scent travelled alongside another, one he didn't recognize. That was bad enough. What made it even worse was that it carried traces of a scent he DID know. Oily-slick and painfully artificial, like pouring cologne on a chemical spill. Rot and rebirth, cold metal, blood. 

Sinister. 

If he was involved, a half hour search was probably too long. Fucking hell. His Harley, retrieved from the jet, roared down the street. The suburbs had long since fallen away. The buildings here were crowded together, businesses hunched under apartments and jostling for an inch of breathing room. He wrinkled his nose and growled. He hated places like this. Noisy, smelly, chaotic headaches. The perfect places to get lost in. well, not on his watch. 

The trail led him to a bus terminal. It was empty now, but they had definitely been here. Logan cut the ignition and kicked the stand into place, swinging off the bike. He glanced around and sniffed the air. Yup, there was Sammy’s scent, and the other one, too. Leather and hand sanitizer, hair gel, gunpowder and gun oil (the good stuff, too, nothing cheap), lemon and honey and tea leaves, wintergreen mint and nail polish, glacial ice, adrenaline and blood and Sinister. Who the hell was this? And where had they gone? 

There was a schedule on the wall. Laminated paper, sun-bleached but legible, detailing the routes each bus took. Logan grunted and ripped the sheet off the wall. Could be useful. He studied it a moment longer, then looked up and around. … There was a newspaper stand across the street. Logan was quietly amazed that those still existed. It was a hole-in-the-wall, probably part of the convenience store with the barred windows, with road sign-yellow paint on the counter and the signage. A far cry from the Everett’s suburb. Logan cast a quick glance in either direction then crossed the street, taking off his helmet and cradling it under his arm. The kid leaning against the counter can’t be more than late 20s. Long hair, stubble that was probably meant to be a beard. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and fixed Logan with a disinterested stare as he approached. His nametag introduced him as Jeremy, and that he was a ‘proud employee’ of Luckee Mart. Congratulations, Jeremy.

“Hey.” Logan said, stopping in front of the counter. Jeremy said nothing, only raised his eyebrow. That was fine; Logan would do the talking for both of them. “I’m looking for a kid. You seen this girl?” He slaps Sammy’s school photo - printed off before they even left the mansion - down on the counter. Jeremy props his face on his fist and looks down. 

“You a cop?” He asks, and Logan grimaces before shaking his head. 

“Hell no. Private investigator.” He taps his finger against the photo. “Her parents really want her home.” Jeremy looks down at the photo. His brow furrows, his heart rate picks up, and his scent shifts to nervousness and fear. Oh, okay. He was about to start lying. He takes a drag of his cigarette and holds it out to the side, tapping the ash off. 

“Never seen her.” He said, leaning his weight to the side in an attempt to appear casual, confident. Logan sneers. 

“Listen, bub.” He says. The cockiness vanishes from Jeremy’s face when Logan lifts him, one handed, by the front of his shirt and snatches the cigarette away. “You can keep talking outta your ass if you want, but I got three things you should consider first. One.” His first claw slid out, close enough that the flat pressed against the punk’s cheek. “Two.” The second claw slid out along the other side of his face. “Three.” the third, central, claw extended just enough to press into the soft underside of Jeremy’s chin. Jeremy’s eyes were wide, frantic, and brown. Same brown as his hair. Same brown as his jeans were gonna be, too. 

“Wait! Wait wait wait, shit man, wait! You’re a- You’re a fuckin’ mutant?!” 

“Nothin’ gets by you.” Logan grunted. “Where's the girl?”

“She took a bus!” Jeremy yelped, scrabbling at the counter and Logan’s wrist. Logan growls his frustration and tightens his grip. 

“I know that, numbnuts.” He snapped. “When and what direction?” 

*I don’t know!” Jeremy tilted his head back even further, trying to get as far away from the claws as he could. “I-I was just coming back from my lunch break, so I dunno, like- Noon? Noon-ish? And they went off towards McKellen street– Uh, that way!” He pointed. 

“They?” Logan pressed. Jeremy started to nod, then thought better of it when he felt cold adamantium against his neck. 

“Yeah, she was with someone. A woman. She was kinda freaky-looking, but still a babe, y’know? Really tall, hair slicked back, some kinda… Body armor type deal. And she was strapped, man, like- Guns and shit? I was surprised they let her on the bus. You ever seen Kill Bill? Or the Matrix? Like that- Hey!” Logan shakes him once. 

“Focus, kid!” He snaps. “How long ago was this?” 

“I dunno!” Jeremy shakes his head frantically. “I dunno! Two days ago? Three? Something like that!” Logan growls his frustration and drops Jeremy back down, retracting his claws. He wasn’t going to get anything else from this guy. No point wasting his time. He kept the kid’s cigarette, though, and held it between his teeth, inhaling deep. Then his frown deepens as he lets the smoke out from his lips. 

“What is this? You smoke Pall Mall?” … He still took another drag as he referred back to the bus schedule. Logan shook his head. “Switch to Camels. You’ll thank me later.” He rolls the bus schedule up and stuffs it into his belt to hang onto, just in case, and makes sure to swipe the school picture as well. He crosses the street again, puts on his helmet, and swings onto his bike. The engine takes just long enough to cut on that Logan gets to hear Jeremy’s bewildered ‘What the fuck just happened?’ as he drives away.

*****

They’d left the city.  They hadn’t gone far, but they were past the limits. He’d picked up the scent at one of the bus stops marked on the map. That hadn’t been difficult. There was only one bus that matched Jeremy’s estimated scheduling: the 632. From there, he’d figured out the stops in order, and had taken alleyways and side streets to check each one off faster until he hit paydirt. Then it was just tracking. Tracking, and breaking a few traffic laws. Not like he cares - if the cops ever got on his tail, they'd have to catch him, first. 

“Hey, Chuck.” Logan said, flicking his comm on. 

“Logan!” Charles's voice is bright and pleasant. “I was wondering when we might hear from you. Good news, I imagine?”

“Yeah.” Logan took a right turn. “I’m close. The scent's blowing pretty fresh. I’d say I’m roughly three minutes out from her location.” 

“Already?” That was Jack’s voice, muffled by distance. Logan grinned. 

“I told ya, thirty minutes to find her.” He says. He slows his bike and comes to a stop, bracing his feet on the gravel road. “But your police force must be shit. Nobody checked the…” He squinted at the weather-beaten sign in front of him. “Steel mill?” 

“He’s at Flagship?” Jack still sounds surprised. “But…”

“But why would she be there?” Marcy’s voice, equally surprised. 

“No idea.” Logan grunted. “But as long as I get her back safe and sound, who cares? I’ll call back when I’ve got her.” He shut the commlink off. If he was being honest, the ‘why’ did matter, and he was curious about it, but he was on a time crunch - both for the limit he’d set for himself, and the kid’s safety. They could chat and theorise when she was home. 

He elected to leave his motorcycle behind. It would make too much noise on the approach. Best to go it on foot. He circled through the grass, stepping past what remained of a chain link fence and avoiding the main entrance. That'd be too obvious. Besides, the scent didn't lead to there. Whoever took the kid also didn't use the front door. 

That was interesting. 

They skipped most of the broken windows, too. Could be a couple reasons for that. Reason one: The kid couldn’t get that high. That would suggest that whoever took her wasn’t carrying her - which in turn suggested Sammy had gone willingly, or had been coerced to follow. Reason two: For whatever reason, the KIDNAPPER couldn’t get through the windows. Could be because they were too big to fit. At first listen to Jeremy’s story, that didn't sound right. He’d described a woman, and those windows were pretty damn big. But Logan didn't know this person. If they were a mutant, and he was assuming they were until otherwise proven wrong, they might have some sort of shape shifting power. Maybe the woman wasn't their real form. Maybe they had increased weight for another reason (better not be chomping his flavour).

Maybe they just couldn't jump that high. 

He stopped just behind the steel mill, staring at what probably used to be a loading bay. He was around a corner, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Coast looked clear. He could hear talking, but it was too distant to be at the door. He counted one voice- No, wait. … Why did it sound like so many more people all of a sudden? He swore, he SWORE he’d only heard two heartbeats a moment ago. Only two sets of breathing. And he didn't smell sulphur, so what in the fuck-? He narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air once, twice. Three times. He smelled rust, and dirt, and decay, mould and mildew and wildlife, petrichor and rotting paint, crumbling wood, and… 

And…

What the fuck? 

Why did it smell like the forest? … And why did he recognize those voices? 

This is a goddamn trap. 

He growls low in his chest, bares his teeth at nothing in particular. This is a trap, and it makes no sense. The people he hears, smells, can't possibly be there. And if there's a trap, that means whoever was behind this - whether they were just in league with Sinister or it was the man himself - knew someone was following them. If it had been tailored to him, they knew he was coming, specifically. But he was three days and a few police calls behind, and he'd gotten on the trail as soon as he'd heard all the relevant Intel. How could they know…? 

Fuck it. Screw the door, screw the loading bay, he was going in through one of those windows after all. He retraced his steps at speed - if they knew he was here, there was less point in being stealthy - braced his feet against the concrete and jumped. His hands caught the edge of the window. Glass bit into the leather of his gloves. Sliced into his hands. He swung up and over, using the windowsill as a pivot point. By the time he let go, the cuts were already healed, and he landed on the ground and woke up.

… Had he been sleeping? It felt like he had. Logan screwed his eyes shut and groaned, grinding his face into the heel of his hand. His head hurts. He hears the sound of chatter, and opens his eyes. … He's on a bench. On a bench, at the institute. His favourite bench, the one near the treeline. He frowns. Breathes in. The air is clean and fresh. Wasn't he just doing something? Or had it been another dream? Another nightmare? Another lost memory trying to bleed through to the surface? He blinked a couple times, trying to clear his vision. Something flew at his head- His arm snapped up- snatched it out of the air-

A frisbee. 

Bright red plastic with a black ‘X’ emblazoned on the top, marking it as property of the Institute. 

“Sorry, Logan!” A young voice called. Logan looked up, still clutching the frisbee. There, waving and giggling sheepishly, was a group of familiar faces. Pyro, Drake, Rogue, Kitty, Jubilee, and Colossus. Kitty was the one who had spoken. She stopped waving to rock onto her toes, then back down. “Can you throw it back?” He studies it a moment longer - does the weight feel different, or is he still waking up? - then shrugs and gives it a toss. It flies in a clean, precise arc, and Drake jumps to catch it.

“Thanks!” He yells back. Logan nods. 

“You need t’ work on your aim, petite.” That voice is also familiar, and he looks over to see Gambit propped against a lamp post, shuffling his cards. “You missed.”

“She throws better than you, Gumbo.” Logan huffs, standing and stretching. His back pops and he grunts. 

“You break Gambit’s heart, homme.” Gambit says, pausing his shuffling to put the back of his hand to his forehead. “I bake for you, and you talk t’ me like dat?” Logan rolls his eyes, but the ghost of a smirk belies his amusement.

“Don’t forget who pulled your ass outta the deep freeze, ‘homme’.” He crosses his arms loosely and looks back at the kids. “Whadda’ya want?”

“Gambit? He wants for nothin’.” Gambit returns to his cards. “Storm was lookin’ for you, though.” 

“Storm?” Logan glanced over, and Gambit nodded. Logan let out a curious hum, then set off back towards the mansion, tossing a ‘thanks’ over his shoulder. As he stepped out from the shade, he was awash in warm, buttery sunshine. It was warm enough to be nice, but not overbearing, and the breeze that carried the scent of flowers and fresh-cut grass was the perfect equaliser between hot and cold. The lawn crunched under his boots as he walked. The voices of the frisbee game drew slightly softer as he approached the front of the grounds. There was a deeper sound. A low, baritone rumbling, growing louder and louder and Logan sprang back just as a red sports car zoomed into the circular driveway. 

“Jesus, Slim!” Logan shouted, regaining his footing. “Eyes up!” 

“Oh, man, sorry Logan!” Scott climbed out of the car with his shoulders hunched and his hand in front of his mouth, the universal posture for ‘I fucked up’. This was echoed in his scent, which was spiked with adrenaline and worry. “I didn't see you there. It’s just, Jean and I were planning this field trip for the kids, to the natural history museum. There’s this travelling exhibit that's coming to town, one about folklore and sea monsters and how that connects to different real-life sea creatures, and we thought it could be a creative tie-in for the mutant history class and how-”

“What Scott means is,” Jean steps out of the car and cuts Scott off with a hand on his shoulder and a fond smile. “We’ll pay more attention next time. Are you alright?” 

“I’m always alright, Red.” Logan said, then glanced to Scott, who was fiddling with his glasses nervously. “But I’m holding this against you, next time ya try to kick me outta the pilot seat.”

“That's fair.” Scott’s shoulders relaxed and his grin became more casual. “Sorry again, Logan.” Logan turned to leave, but only managed a few paces before Jean spoke up again. 

“Actually, we were hoping to run into you.” She said, taking an imploring step forward just as Logan turned back again.

“Almost did.” He huffs, and Scott sulks. Jean ignores them both and continues. 

“We were hoping to ask if you and Mariko would like to chaperone with us.” 

“Mariko?” He repeated, breath caught in his throat. No. No, that wasn't possible. He couldn't ask Mariko, because she was-

Just fine. She was fine. She was fine because she'd been there when he'd gone back to her home. She’d been waiting, safe and sound. And he’d dealt with the other Yakuza, and everyone else, and she’d finished disentangling her family from crime. It had been a long and arduous process. Some people had resisted at first. But in the end, she’d persisted, and eventually succeeded. The Yashida clan was respected under her lead. And she’d come to visit as a vacation from the constant work that came with running a family.

“Yeah.” Scott nodded. “The kids really like her. And, besides, we know she’s not going to be here much longer before she goes back to Japan. We thought she might like seeing a bit of American folklore before she goes home.” 

“She might.” Logan nods slowly, then screws his eyes shut and rubs at his temple again, teeth grit tight. “I’ll- I’ll ask.” 

“What's wrong?” Jean asked, signalling her concern in the tilt of her head and the furrow of her brow. Logan shook his head and stepped back. 

“Just a headache. I’ll be fine.” He says, muffling a growl in the back of his throat. “If I see her around, I’ll ask.” And now he did walk away. His head hurt more now. This isn’t right. None of this is right. It doesn’t make sense - why doesn’t it make sense? He was still glaring at the dirt when little footsteps scurried by him. A young girl, running across the lawn. She was about seven or eight, with straight, ash-blond hair and… Green eyes. She was very familiar. Of course she was familiar, she was a student, wasn’t she? Had to be. But there’s still  something– Movement behind– He turned– 

Caught Victor Creed’s arm by the wrist. (Wait-) Victor looked down at him with a bemused expression. 

“Uh, boo?” He blinked, waggling the fingers of his free hand in a half-assed parody of an old-school movie monster. Logan released his arm, and Victor let it drop to his side. “Hell’s got you all jumpy for?” 

“What the fuck, Creed?” Logan grumbled, loosely crossing his arms over his chest. His head felt like it was about to split open. 

“What?” Victor sniffed, adopting a similar posture. “Can’t a guy come ask if his partner wants to go for a hunt?” Logan tilted his head in confusion. 

“Hunting? Now? … What time is it?” Both he and Victor looked up at the sun. It hung contentedly in the middle of the sky. The ferals looked back down as Victor pulled a smart phone from his pants pocket. He tapped his thumb on the almost comically undersized screen. 

“Three-thirty.” He says, stuffing the phone back and away. Logan took a half step back. He scratches at the back of his head, then twists his hand in the hair that grows from the nape of his neck as though that can hold the sides of his skull together when it feels like they’re trying to rip apart. 

“I… Have a class to teach.” He says it slowly, like he's trying to remind himself of the fact. It’s three thirty, and he's pretty sure it's Friday, so-

Victor laughs.

“Boy howdy, that must’ve been some nap.” He grins and picks at his fangs with a claw, peeling off a shedding layer. “You put your brats up to it, remember? Said they gotta… Earn their stripes, or, somethin’. I wasn't listening.” He pulls his hand away from his mouth to examine his nails. Satisfied, he gives his claws a quick extension-retraction, then props his hands on his hips and grins. “And before ya’ ask, yes, you're still on Earth, but Bugs Bunny is president.” Logan turned and walked away, shaking his head. 

“Thank God I’m Canadian.” 

“You guys got Daffy.” Victor called to his retreating back. “And what about our hunt?”

“Later.” Logan replied, waving him off. “I gotta find Storm.” And so, he continued around the perimeter of the mansion. With every step, his head hurt more and more. Maybe this was why he'd asked the kids to cover for him. He was so distracted by the pain in his skull that he only narrowly avoided Lockheed, swooping low to bring something to Kitty. Logan didn't know what it was, and shot a few curses at the tiny dragon as it flew off. Maybe Kitty oughtta invest in some pint-sized glasses. He’s still grumbling to himself when he rounds another corner, and what he sees is enough to  dissipate his bad mood instantly. 

There they were.

His kids - or, three of them, at least. The ones that looked like him. Akihiro, Laura, and Gabby. Even from here, he could hear what they were saying. It was a tracking lesson. Laura and Akihiro were explaining how to read broken undergrowth to determine approximate weight, speed, and direction of moving prey. Gabby was holding up Jonathan, who was chittering contentedly. Apparently, she was gonna take the oversized rat and they were both gonna hide themselves somewhere in the woods. It was a good drill - real world practice in a low-stress setting. He’d done it plenty of times before. Sometimes they’d have to find him. Sometimes it’d be someone else. Sometimes he’d just stash a random object and have them bring it back to him. And now his kids were using the same lesson. 

So they did listen to him, after all. 

And seeing that - seeing them, happy and safe and together - brings a smile to his face, even despite the throbbing behind his eyes and what the FUCK was wrong with his head?! He snarls to himself, squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head, clutching at the roots of his hair. His vision blurs and he squints. … That girl’s there again. The little one whose name he can't remember. She's hiding behind Mikoto, clutching at her leg and peering out. Mikoto doesn't react. That's weird for a lot of reasons. Mikoto liked kids - she was great with the younger students. He’d heard her refer to herself as their ‘big sister' countless times, and they adored her right back. She’d never ice one of them out. And, hold on, why was the kid even in that class? The rest of the students there were teenagers, and if they were doing field tests, this was steering towards the advanced track-

“Logan! There you are.” A voice interrupts the latest snarl of frustration before he can finish it, and he looks up. There's a trace of desperation in his eyes as he seeks her out. Her.

Storm.

Ironically, she'd always been a calming presence in his life, from the moment he met her. Her and Charles, who, speak of the devil, is at her side. They approach him with smiles that falter when they catch sight of his expression.

“What's wrong, old friend?” Charles asked, steepling his fingers in his lap. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I dunno, Chuck.” He took a moment before looking up again. “My head fuckin’ hurts, and I swear, something just ain't right about today. Can't put my finger on it.” Storm frowned in sympathy.

“You're stressed, Logan. This is exactly why we suggested you take the day off.”

… Oh yeah. They had told him to do that, hadn't they? Said he’d been pushing himself too hard and no matter how he argued - and he’d argued - they’d insisted. And now he was here. … Was that right? It felt- At least, it made-

“You still seem tired. Though I’m not surprised to find you watching over the students again, I assure you, Logan. They will be fine while you take some time for yourself.” Charles’s expression is equal parts fond and exasperated, the guiding hand that he always is. So why does this…? 

“Cajun said you were looking for me.” Logan mumbled, once again blinking against the discomfort.

“I was.” Storm confirmed. “Though I told him not to wake you if you were resting. I hope he listened.”

“Does he ever?” Logan rolled his neck to one side. It doesn't help. Storm tutted and rolled her eyes.

“That man.” She huffed. Logan grunted. 

“What'd ya need, Storm?” He asked. She blinked and stood a bit straighter.

“Oh! Yes. I was about to head to the greenhouse. There are some plants I need to prune, so I was wondering if you might lend a hand. It’s been far too long since we’ve had some time to really catch up.”

“Y’know what?” Logan managed a smile. “That’d be nice.” 

Snikt.

“Except you're not Storm.” 

And he drove his claws into her abdomen. She let out a shocked, pained gasp. It echoes off the walls of the loading bay, shattering the quiet that remained once the constant droning was gone. Already, his head started to feel better. The little girl - Sammy - toppled over from behind the guard rail. She shook her head like she was coming out of a daze. And the woman on his claws staggered back, olive face ashy and grey eyes wide. 

“H-how-?” She sputtered. Logan pulled free, but didn't sheath the blades. Blood dripped onto the concrete, and it smelled real and it smelled heavenly. 

“You’re good, sister, I'll give ya’ that.” He said, stepping a slow circle, stopping only when he stood between her and Sammy. The woman looked up, sweat coating her brow and making her slicked-back brown hair look even shinier. (Fuck, she was younger than he expected. Probably had a good few years before she even hit thirty.) “Not too many people can get anywhere near my head. But you made one huge mistake.” He held up his index finger. “Things never go that smooth when I’m around.”

“...Wait.” The woman slowed the desperate scrabbling she’d been doing through her belt pouches, and looked at him with what he sure hoped, for her sake, wasn't concern. “Are you saying you broke through my illusion and evaded all my attempts at killing you… Because you think it's unrealistic for you to be HAPPY?!” Logan let his shoulders sag as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s- What are you, my therapist?” And when he looked back at her, she had a syringe in her hand. The scent of Sinister got stronger. “Wait, the hell is-”

She pressed the plunger down and gasped like she'd been pulled out of ice water. He lunges. She jumps back.

“Do you have a therapist?” Her voice was still unsteady, but she grinned, flashing bloody teeth. The flow of blood from her stomach had stopped. “Cause if not, I can probably help you find one. And when you get there, you can tell ‘em Siren sent-” She yelped and leaped out of the way of the concrete slab that shattered against the wall. “Hey! Rude!”

“Shut your damn mouth.” Logan growled and lunged again. She - Siren, really? Another one? - drew a pistol from her belt and fired. Logan ghosted the first three with little effort, but the fourth- Ah, shit. Too close to the kid for his liking. Better just take it. The bullet collided with his shoulder with a dull ting. Logan roared. Duck. Slice the gun. Useless. Catch her arm. Slice the stomach. Block the swing, take the headbutt - moron - both sets of claws through her shoulders into the wall.

Ding ding ding.

We have a winner. 

She cried out and struggled, but it was useless. 

“Why are you working with Sinister?” He snarled directly in her face. The bruising from the failed headbutt was already fading, but… Slower now. 

“Who?” Siren sputtered.

“The guy who hired you. Essex, or whatever he’s callin’ himself now - and I bet he gave you that fancy needle, too.” 

“A job’s a job.” She coughed. “Not all of us get a cushy mansion.”

“Not all of us use that as an excuse to hurt kids.” Logan shot back. He pulled his claws out and let her drop. She looked pale. If that shot let her heal like he thought it did, then she better hope it could fix all that. Not his monkeys, in any case. 

“If you ever want a taste of the good life…” He said, stepping back and retracting his claws. “Charles Xavier, he can help you.”

“Charles Xavier…” Siren’s voice was thick and wet as she reached into her vest. “Is a fucking hypocrite.” Logan realised what she was doing just in time. He dove over Sammy right as the explosion went off. 

…

…

…

The dust settled. Nothing moved. Then, the scuttle of smaller rocks as something shifted. A chunk of ceiling moved. Then, with a grunt of effort, Logan shoved it off and away. His hair was a mess, he was streaked with dirt and his own drying blood, his jacket was shredded and his shirt and jeans barely survived - but he was alive. 

And more importantly, so was she. 

“You alright, kid?” He asked, looking down. Sammy was curled into a tight ball at his feet, hands over her ears and trembling visibly. When he inhaled (a strange feeling, given that his lungs were still repairing themselves), what he smelled above all else, more than the blood, the accelerant, the rubble, was blind terror and tears. 

“Ah, geez.” Logan scratched at his neck and crouched down. “Hey there. Sammy, right?” She didn't move. “I think you’ve had a real lousy couple of days. Is that right?” She stayed curled up. He tilted his head. “I bet I know just the thing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his comnlink. “I have her, Charles.”

“I heard. Your link must have turned on during the fight.” Charles’s voice - the real Charles. 

“Figured.” Logan shrugged. 

“Are you both alright?”

“I’m fine. Takes more than that to bring the ol’ Canucklehead down. The kid… she ain't hurt, but she's shaken up bad. Think you can get her parents on the line?”

“Of course.” Charles sounded relieved. “I’d stepped outside when I got your signal. Let me fetch them.”

“Thanks.” Logan said. “Oh, and, uh- Charles?”

“Yes?”

“I dunno how much you heard, but, uh…” Logan chewed the inside of his cheek. “What that Siren lady said? She's wrong. You saved all of us. … Especially me.” 

There were a few seconds of silence. Logan wondered if he had lost the signal. 

“Thank you, Logan.” Charles finally spoke. “Coming from you, that means more than I can say.” And then it was silent again, aside from the sound of a sliding door. And then Charles’s voice again, distantly. “Mr. and Mrs. Everett?”

“Is that-?” Jake sounded hesitant. 

“Sammy?!” Marcy sounded close to tears. 

“She's here.” Logan confirmed. 

“Oh, my baby-!” Marcy wailed. There was a jostling sound, and then her voice was much clearer. “Baby, Mama’s here, is that you?”

Sammy finally looked up.

“Hey, little mermaid!” Jack's voice, and it sounded like Marcy’s weeping was contagious. “The nice man’s gonna take you home, okay? Make sure you listen to him!”

Her big, green eyes welled up with fresh tears. 

“And then we’ll bake cinnamon cookies.” Marcy promised. “All day.” 

“All day.” Jack echoed.

“Why don't you stay on the line til we get back?” Logan said, then held the commlink out to Sammy. “Here, little darlin’. Hang on to this for me.” She blinked up at him, uncertain. He crouched down even lower and softened his voice. “It’s real this time. I promise.” She sniffled, and when he dropped the commlink into her open palm, clutched it to her chest.

“We love you, baby.” Marcy’s voice leaked out from her fingers.

“You’ll be home soon.” Jack added.

“Y’know,” Logan rocked back on his heels. “They’re not the only ones who missed you.” Sammy looked up again, her face tear-streaked and puffy. “I had someone who was so worried, he came all this way just to help me find ya’.” And off his belt, Logan pulled Thimble the Lion - a bit flattened from having been caught underneath him during the explosion, a little dirty, and maybe a bit torn, but otherwise intact. Sammy gasped and surged forward, gathering the toy against her chest. Logan smiled, then stood. 

“C’mon. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He held out a hand to help her up (thankfully, his gloves were dark enough to hide any bloodstains). Sammy peered up from Thimble’s threadbare fur, looked at the hand, then shifted Thimble to the other side so she had a free arm to reach up with. She hiccuped. 

Well.

How the fuck did he say no to that?

“Alright, up ya’ go.” Logan said, ducking down to scoop her into the crook of his elbow. She nestled her head against his shoulder and soon, even with the revving of his motorcycle’s engine, was asleep.

******

The reunion was about as tearful as Logan expected it to be.He’d woken Sammy up when they got close. When they pulled in the driveway, she didn’t wait for the engine to cut off before she’d jumped off.

“Sammy!” Jack and Marcy cried, sprinting off the front step. They scooped her into her arms and collapsed on the lawn, holding her so tightly Logan couldn’t see her anymore. Charles wheeled out of the door, down the small step, and then moved to Logan’s side. 

“Well done, old friend.” He said with a smile. Logan nodded. 

“Just doing my job.” He replied, arms crossed. “Glad it’s over.” And both he and Charles smiled. 

“Oh, and Logan?” Charles spoke. Logan grunted.

“As I told you, we could hear what you and Siren were saying. We will be discussing it at your next session.” Logan opened his mouth to say something, then glanced over at Sammy and reconsidered his phrasing. 

“Sometimes, Charles, you can be a real pain in the- … Rear.”

Charles only laughed. Jack and Marcy looked up.

“Thank you.” Marcy sniffled, her cheek still pressed against her daughter’s hair. 

“Charles?” Jack nodded, then glanced back at his wife, who nodded. Jack faced forward again. “We want to take you up on it.” Logan tilted his head to the side, then glanced at Charles with an arched brow.

“She comin’ with us?” 

“Not yet.” Charles shook his head once. “But soon. We’ll make arrangements once they’ve all had some time to recover.” Logan looked back at the Everetts.

“Then why don’t you hang on to that commlink for a while?” He suggested. “It’s a direct line to the mansion. Anything happens again, we’ll be here before you know it.”

“Thank you.” Jack, this time, and his voice broke before he scrubbed his eyes with his sleeve. Sammy took advantage of the loosened grip and squirmed free, stumbled, then scurried to stand in front of Logan. He blinked, then crouched down.

“Hello, little lady.” He said. She studied him for a moment. He tilted his head. Then she carefully set Thimble down and reached for his face with both hands. He froze. Once again, he was hearing impossible voices.

But these weren’t voices he recognized.

Or- They were. One was. But- But he couldn’t be hearing it. It wasn’t possible. He’d… He’d thought he’d never hear it again. He shouldn’t be able to…

[Hello,] said a young girl’s voice. Shy and innocent. 

[Hm? Oh, good afternoon, my dear.] A man’s voice. Oh god. 

[What are you doing?] The girl asked. Logan struggled to breathe.

[I’m sitting, I imagine,] the man said. [Would you care to join me?] It hurt.

[But why are you sitting here?] The girl asked. [You can go.]

A moment of silence. Logan wasn’t even sure his heart was beating. 

[I’m waiting for someone.] The man said finally. 

[Who?] The girl asked.

Logan felt his chest constrict. 

[My son.] The man said. [James.] Logan’s eyes stung. [He’s a sweet boy. A strong boy. But he’s always hated being alone. I’d like to be here for him when he arrives, to help show him the way.] His voice sounded so different than Logan remembered. Had he remembered his father wrong, all these years?

[You must’ve waited real long.] The girl said. 

[I… I assume so.] The man said. [I’m not actually sure how long it’s been. I hope it’s been many, many years, though. I’d like him to have grown up by the time we see each other again. I… I hope he got the chance to do so.]

[Do you miss him?] The girl asks. Logan feels sick. 

Another silence.

[Yes.] The man says softly. [But I’m glad that I do.] And then Sammy steps back, and Logan snaps back to the present. She blinks up at him curiously, waiting for a reaction he couldn’t give her. He couldn’t move. 

“Logan?” Charles sounded a thousand miles away. A hand on his back. “Logan, are you alright?” He blinked, rocked back. He was replaying those words over and over again, as much as they hurt - desperately trying to cling to that voice. The first voice to ever love him. 

“Sammy, what did you do-?” Marcy asked, pulling her daughter into her arms.

“I’m so sorry-” Jack began, but Logan just shook his head. He swallowed, drew a steadying breath.

“Sammy, can you do me a favour?” He asked. She nodded, peeking out from her mother’s blouse. “You ever see him again… You tell him not to wait up.” And he turned and stood, waiting for Charles, and remained silent long after they got back to the mansion.

He had a lot to think about.

[windwheeler-aster]

i’m not a monster

summary: although your university has given students two weeks off for the holidays, you’re still stuck in the library studying for the upcoming exam season. although, you seem to have lost focus and fell asleep on top of your textbooks... luckily for you, your long-term rival dottore is here to help

masterlist | advent calendar

pairing: dottore x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), reader is a student and rival of dottore’s, and reader is not traveler

word count: 491 words (2 mins~)

genre: romance, enemies to more, modern AU

format: one shot

warnings: not proofread thoroughly 

a/n: ghghghg, i’m going to need to revisit this idea/concept with dottore (and other characters?!?!) in the future... but i hope y’all enjoy this💖

The holiday break was for students and staff to take a break from studies and spend time with their loved ones. Although, many students didn’t spend the break exactly like that. Some hosted huge parties in their parents’ house while they were on holiday. Others— like yourself— spent the whole two weeks panicking and studying for the upcoming exam season. And, for those like yourself who bit more than they could chew, they had rarely any time to relax.

Which is exactly why you had holed yourself up in your university’s library for a few days. You were strict with yourself while studying, too. Coffee and your textbooks were the only thing you could rely on, it seemed. Though, it was only inevitable that you would come down from your coffee-fueled ambitious high. You just wish you hadn’t crashed so hard while you were reviewing your textbooks for the nth teen time that day.

But, luckily, Dottore had just turned the corner in search of a book to satiate his own curiosity when he saw you, slumped over your textbooks.

Admittedly, he did chuckle at your pathetic state. Half of your face was squished down, adorably so, while you slept on the pages. He did cringe as he saw a small amount of drool leave your parted mouth. And the academic in him stiffened when Dottore noticed how you were wrinkling the paper in this position. So, really, he had no choice but to put you in a more comfortable position. For both you and the book.

Just like he had no choice but to make you lay down, head in his lap. And he certainly had no choice but to put his coat over you once he saw you shiver. Though, Dottore can’t really explain the soft smile that spread across his features when he caught a glimpse at the peaceful look on your face. They’re too cute to resist smiling, he reassured himself, anyone who doesn’t smile at that is ridiculous. Obviously.

Dottore looked over at your notes and sighed wistfully. He examined your handwriting, and smiled at the small details in it that made it uniquely yours. Some of the notes you wrote on the margins of your work earned a chuckle out of Dottore, too. 

“Oh, if only you didn’t have such a bad impression of me,” Dottore murmured, slightly wincing as he recalled your first meeting.

Rumors of his questionable ethics and dubious morals had spread around the university, and you joined everyone else in their superstitions. However, the only thing that separated you from the rest of the sheep was your brilliant mind.

“We could have been friends,” he mumbled. Dottore sucked in a harsh brush as he took in your face fully. “Or maybe something more…?”

Dottore looked at the time on his watch and concluded that maybe— just maybe— he’d need a nap too. 

Even if it is next to his so-called “enemy”.

taglist:

@x-zho @cxlrosii @i23kazu @tiredsleep @ireallylikehamsters​

(send an ask to be added or removed)

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

[ticklystuff]

You’re the Only Pun for Me

a/n: cyno is so hard for me to write, but i hope this turned out okay

characters: lee!cyno, ler!tighnari

word count: ~2.7k

summary: cyno might have some competition when it comes to puns

---

"Would the two of you like to try some?"

Tighnari peered into the wooden box that Albedo had been presented before him. Inside the container looked to be little pink blobs dusted with some kind of white powder, unrecognizable in both shape and form. Their trip to Monstadt had presented him with many different kinds of food, but Tighnari couldn't recall this particular one being featured in any store yet. He turned his head to take a quick look at Cyno seated beside him, catching the hesitant expression on his face that matched his own.  "Sakura mochi," Albedo acknowledged the inquisitive looks the two gave each other. "They're a dessert that I picked up from Inazuma during my trip as 'Calyx'. I enjoy them, but Klee is not a fan of the texture, so I have extra to share." "Ah, I think I've heard of them," Tighnari's voice rose at the familiar name, watching as Cyno slowly poked a finger at one of the desserts, leaving a tiny dent in its squishy form. "They're desserts made from rice, correct? I don't think we have anything similar in Sumeru." "I think I agree with Klee on the texture part," Cyno said as he retracted his hand, patting his hand to rid himself of the white powder. "They're certainly not for everyone," Albedo mused, "but I figured they'd make a nice picnic snack." "Well, don't mind if I do then," Tighnari said with a shrug, setting his half-eaten sandwich on their picnic blankets to pluck the squishy blob with his fingers. He nearly brought the snack to his mouth, only to catch Cyno watching him with repulse written all over his face. Sighing, Tighnari grabbed at Cyno's wrist, placing the mochi in his open palm. "Let's be nice to our host." Cyno scowled at him, looking between Tighnari and the pink blob in his hand. "But-" "Don't be a baby about it," chided Tighnari, picking up a second mochi for himself, listening to Cyno grumble to himself and Albedo giggle over their little exchange. Tighnari brought the mochi to his nose, inspecting it with a quick sniff, before biting off a piece of the blob and giving himself a moment to chew. The texture was certainly off-putting at first, but after a few bites, the soft squishiness had grown on him. Flavor wise, the dessert was nearly tasteless, save for the hints of floral sweetness, but it was a nice subtle taste that Tighnari thoroughly enjoyed. Cyno, on the other hand, made it very clear he was not enjoying the dessert, judging by the visible disgust displayed on his face. Tighnari rolled his eyes and offered his hand to the other, which Cyno promptly placed the remaining mochi into, observing with disdain as Tighnari happily finished his piece off. "Well, I'd ask for your verdict, but I feel like I have a good idea just from watching," Albedo commented with a chuckle. "I like it!" Tighnari said with an affirmative nod, a contrast to the way Cyno shook his head. "Do you know how they make it there?" "Hmm, I did see a woman making some, but it was quite a while ago," Albedo recalled. "All I remember was that she was pounding glutinous rice over and over." Tighnari frowned at the tidbit of information presented to him. "Ugh, already sounds like a lot of work." "Perhaps there's a way to automate it," Cyno spoke up, pausing as he folded his arms in thought, before looking up at Tighnari. There was a familiar glint in his eye, one that Tighnari recognized immediately as a forewarning for what was currently running through Cyno's mind. "Cyno, don't-" "With a little mochivation-" "Stop!" "And some imochination-" "CYNO!" Cyno looked Tighnari straight in the eyes, smirking before finishing, "I'm sure we can figure out a mochinism for such a device." Tighnari sighed to himself, putting his hand over his face out of embarrassment. Albedo clapped alongside the two of them, clearly amused by Cyno's antics. As much as Tighnari enjoyed Albedo's presence, Cyno was slowly rubbing off on the alchemist in all the wrong ways and he feared for what the rest of Monstadt might have to deal with when the two would have to leave. "That was quite impressive," Albedo nodded amusedly. "I thank you." Cyno shot a quick glance at Tighnari, before looking back at Albedo. "I'm glad someone appreciates my attempts at humor." Albedo looked at Tighnari, puttin his hand on his chin in thought. "Hmm, Tighnari, you're a forest ranger, correct?" "Yes, why?" Tighnari asked with a tilt of his head, only to inwardly groan at the sight of a smirk crossing Albedo's face that resembled Cyno's own. He grabbed at the tips of his ears and pulled them down flat, bracing himself for the worst. "Perhaps you'd be more fauna puns related to your interests?" Albedo spoke in his usual tone, looking directly at Tighnari. "I'm sure there are some you won't find too deflorable." Tighnari blinked up at Albedo as those last few puns made their way to his covered ears and he took a moment to process them. There was something different about them that was distinct from Cyno's jokes, something... enjoyable? Feelings of confusion and amusement mixed inside of him, folding over each other in a way that sent conflicting signals to his brain. Was he actually enjoying bad puns for once? "Those were actually.. quite good," he finally spoke, a small smile crossing his face that grew larger by the moment, nearly breaking out into a fit of giggles as he turned to face Cyno, gripping at his shoulder and shaking him. "You get it, right?! Fauna and flora? Like, he's referring to the animal and plant ecosystems!" Cyno's eyes darted from Tighnari to Albedo and back to Tighnari, seemingly in disbelief by the display in front of him. "Y-You liked his jokes?" Cyno managed to mutter out and Tighnari nodded in response. "Yeah, Albedo's a natural!" Tighnari exclaimed, making the alchemist look away with a blush. "Those were really good! Cyno, you should learn from him." Cyno looked like he had something to say, but shut his mouth, giving Tighnari a blank expression instead.  "Don't be too hard on him," Albedo said in earnest. "I have much to learn from Cyno, as I'm still quite the novice and have mushroom for improvement." "MUSHROOM?!" Tighnari scooted closer to Albedo, finding himself completely enamored with the alchemist. "Please, do more!" Albedo smiled with a nod and looked off in the distance. "Alright, I'm not an expert by any means, but those recent ones have given me some insporeation.." --- Something was off... It hadn't initially caught Tighnari's attention, but between Cyno's short responses to Tighnari's attempts at conversation, to the way he would consistently avoid eye contact, and the fact that he continuously kept two paces ahead of Tighnari instead of walking beside him like he usually did, all seemed to point to some present underlying issue that Tighnari couldn't quite place his finger on. The strange behaviors had begun after their picnic with Albedo, but Tighnari had always just chalked it up to Cyno being winded from the initial hike, which would be a strange explanation when Tighnari thought about it because Cyno often made long trips through the desert. There was also something else that was off about Cyno today, almost like he was missing something... "Hey, you haven't made any jokes all day," Tighnari spoke his thoughts out loud when he realized what was really bothering him, prompting Cyno to stop ahead of him and turn around. 

"Is everything alright with you?" Granted, it was still early in the day, but that never stopped Cyno before. "I'm fine," Cyno replied shortly, before turning on his heel and marching forward. His stoic expression would usually come off as normal to people that knew Cyno, but he was definitely using it to hide something this time. The two continued their trek forward till they reached Windrise, per Albedo's suggestion. He recommended the two come early, as the place could be busy during Windblume and earliest was when the wind was most refreshing, according to Albedo at least. Initially, Cyno seemed reluctant on going, but Tighnari persisted and the general finally caved. At first glance, there wasn't much to do, so Tighnari took it upon himself to plop down on the field, feeling the soft grass against his skin and the gentle breeze brush past his face. "It's so peaceful here," Tighnari sighed contently, sitting up when Cyno took his spot next to him. "You would never be able to do something like this back in the rainforest. I'm so glad Albedo recommended this spot to us."

No response. "Oh, speaking of Albedo, he mentioned that he can send me plants from Monstadt for me to study," Tighnari attempted at creating conversation, but was only met with a disinterested shrug. Sighing to himself, Tighnari thought to drop the conversation, until an idea sprung to mind. "Albedo said we're like plant friends, or fronds, if you will," he winked with a nudge of his elbow to Cyno's arm. "Can we please change the subject?" There was a sense of emptiness to his voice that caught Tighnari off-guard and he promptly turned away, staring straight ahead. He wasn't opposed to just enjoying the silence, but he couldn't just let Cyno be like this. His mind ran through the events of the past twenty-four hours, combing for anything that he might've said that could potentially have offended Cyno, but nothing stood out to him. It all started after their picnic with Albedo- oh. The dots in his head finally connected.

But how should he go about this particular issue? Cyno was not known to be the most open when it came to talking about issues, choosing to keep them all in his little head, and Tighnari more often than not would have to constantly press him to speak his mind, but with how Cyno shut him down earlier, asking might be more trouble than it was worth. His brain ran through all the possible attempts at addressing the matter at hand, but all routes ended in roadblocks. It wasn't till he side-eyed Cyno, however, that the most unconventional idea sprung to mind.. Well, it was worth a shot.

"Hey-! W-What are you doing?!" Tighnari wasn't the only one caught up in Monstadt's breathtaking views and he used Cyno's inattentiveness to his advantage, easily straddling the other's waist and pinning him to the grass.

"Changing the subject, just like you asked," Tighnari spoke with impudence, smirking to himself from the eyeroll Cyno gave him. "Is everything alright?"

Tighnari watched as Cyno gave himself a brief moment to visibly think, before shaking his head. "It's really not a big deal."

"So that means there is something," Tighnari pressed further. "You're not jealous of me befriending Albedo, are you?"

"Wait, what?" Cyno looked up at him in disbelief. "Wait, Tighnari, that's not- Wahahait! NohoHOHOho!"

Most people that only knew of Cyno through his work often did not get to experience the more laid-back nature he took on when around Tighnari and Collei. Jokes and bad puns were aplenty and Tighnari had no qualms using whatever method he could to put a stop to them. Tickling was the most common solution as the simple lift of his hands was usually enough to stop Cyno dead in his tracks before he was able to utter a single pun. This meant, of course, that Tighnari naturally knew just how to make Cyno shriek...

"AHAHAHAHA! NAHAHARIHIHI! NOHOHO!"

Tighnari smirked to himself as Cyno's laughter echoed through the air, breaking the silence of the windswept plains. His underarms were easily Cyno's worst spot, which was handy for when the two shared their bed, as Tighnari had easy access whenever Cyno felt like slipping in one last bad joke for the night. It was the perfect spot too, as Cyno liked to clamp his arms down to protect himself, effectively trapping Tighnari's hands in the process, just like right now.

"NAHAHARIHIHI! LEHEHET ME EXPLAHAHAHAIN!"

"Oh? So now you want to talk?" Tighnari giggled to himself as he watched Cyno's lower arms uselessly wiggle about in attempt to defend himself, while the upper parts trapped Tighnari's hands to his underarms. Cyno himself wasn't much of a squirmer, so it was always amusing to watch his arms actively move, while the rest of his body just laid completely flat, save for the way he threw his head back in hysterics.

"PLEHEHEHAHEASE! YOU'VE GOHOHOT IT WROHOHONG!"

It took Tighnari a moment to realize what Cyno was saying through his laughter, only stopping when the other repeated himself over and over. He tilted his head in confusion, allowing Cyno a break, but keeping his hand where they were. "Alright then, care to explain?"

"I-It's nohohot Albehedoho," Cyno managed through an after-shock of giggles, still tense with Tighnari's fingers so close. "It's just, I don't know, it's nonsensical really- WaIT! STAHAHAHAP! OKAHAHAY! I'LL TAHAHALK!"

"Yeah, you better," Tighnari huffed, kneading his thumbs into Cyno's underarms for just that extra push.

"Okay, okahahay," Cyno giggled, finally grabbing at Tighnari's arms to get him to stop. "I-It's not Albedo necessarily," he began, turning his head as a tint of pink crept across his cheeks, "but you've never laughed at my jokes before."

"Wait, that's it?" Tighnari tilted his head in disbelief and scoffed. "I thought you might've hated Albedo or something."

"No, see, I told you it was silly," Cyno sighed embarrassedly, avoiding eye contact with Tighnari.

Tighnari sighed and shook his head, knowing full well he should've expected something like this. "Cyno, no, it's not like I hate your jokes or anything. It's just," Tighnari paused to put his thoughts together, "I'm just so used to them by now. I don't know how to describe it, but I guess I just wasn't expecting Albedo to make puns too and I was just caught in the moment. Does that make sense? I enjoy yours too; I really do."

He peered down at Cyno, expecting some kind of response, but was only met with a shaky nod, an unconvincing one at that. The two sat in silence as Tighnari thought of something, anything, that he could possibly say to Cyno to make him feel better in the moment. There was something that Tighnari knew Cyno would personally enjoy, but it was one he really did not want to go through with.

"Ugh, screw it," he muttered under his breath. If it'd make Cyno happy..

"Did you say something?" Cyno looked up to ask, but Tighnari ignored him as he scooted back just a little bit so that Cyno's ankle was within reach.

"Cyno, I'm putting my foot down," he forced himself to say, wrapping his hand around one of Cyno's ankles and letting his fingers trail up his sole, tightening his grip when Cyno suddenly started to jerk his leg back.

"I-I don't understahahand," came Cyno's confused giggles, but Tighnari simply turned back around, reaching for Cyno's ribs this time.

"I was only ribbing you the other day."

"Pffft-! AhahaHAHAhaha!" Cyno snorted and collapsed into a new fit of giggles, as Tighnari's thumbs kneaded their way into the undersides of his ribs, moving in sync as his fingers trailed through each one. "Nahaharihihi! You're scaring mehehehe!"

"Your puns are never a waist," Tighnari's voice shook with each pun, but he pushed forward, grabbing at the hip bones of Cyno's waist and circling his fingers around the designated area, eliciting a breathy squeal from the other.

"Ehehehahaha! Nari, stahahahap!"

"I'm sure everyone that nose would agree," Tighnari finally finished, much to his relief. He removed his hands from Cyno's waist, before bending forward to plant a quick kiss atop Cyno's button nose. "There, happy?" he looked away as a blush spread through his cheeks, embarrassed at what he just put himself through.

"Ugh, those were so bad, even for me," Cyno giggled reassuringly, sitting up to return the nose kiss that Tighnari had just given him.

"I guess I only learned from the best," Tighnari sighed tiredly, "but I hope you at least appreciated them."

"Well, they certainly tickled my fancy- WAIT, TihiHIHighnahari! Okahahahy! No more puhuhuHUHUNS! I'M SOHOHOHORRY!"