#so sorry it took so long i've been all over the place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seeingteacupsindragons · 2 days ago

Text

The Use of the Heart

Good evening, followers! I've got a new story for y'all. ~9.8k words. Yeah, this one's long. If you'd like to toss me a tip for it, you can drop one on my ko-fi page here. It...did take me three weeks to write this one.

Avery hadn’t gotten more than a foot out of the carriage after his sister before she was whisked away to meet her new husband. He stumbled the rest of the way out onto the stone courtyard and nearly fell on his face. “Wai—”

He bit his tongue before he could finish the protest. They were here so Lisette could meet her new husband. If the crown prince wanted to meet her fresh off the ship that had brought them here, smelling like dead fish and stale sweat from not being able to properly bathe for two weeks, then…

Then, well, at least all the treaties were already signed in case he changed his mind.

Avery righted himself. The handful of attendants Lisette had brought with her were already busy unloading her trunks and consulting with people he didn’t recognize—probably their counterparts in Alham. They would know where he was meant to go.

He made a beeline for Robin, the woman in charge of his sister’s affairs, who was blushing and smiling at a man with dark hair and neat, plain clothes in the dark blue that was Alham’s royal colors. Someone who worked for Lisette’s new husband, maybe. He pointed Robin off, and Avery immediately took her place. “Hello. I was hoping you could help me.”

The man gave him a once over that no one had ever given Avery before, then said, “With what exactly?”

“I’ve just arrived with the rest of the contingent from Ensheren. I was hoping you knew where to steer me.”

“You don’t already know what you should be doing?”

Avery’s face turned an unflattering shade of pink at the incredulity in his voice. “I’m only here to keep my sister company and help her settle into her new home. Unfortunately, as she’s already been escorted off without me to see her new husband, I’m at loose ends in the meantime. You could tell me where her rooms are and I can start there.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Siste—Ensheren sent one of its princes? Your Highness, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t told you were coming.”

Avery’s heel dug into the stone under the sole of his boot, twisting anxiously. He was too tired to deal with this. “Not one of the important ones, I’m afraid. After you’ve had your heir, your spare, your backup spare, one to handle the people, and one to handle the military, you run out of things to do with princes.”

One dark eyebrow went up. “Your parents had quite a few children.”

“They were hoping for Lisette after the second set of twins,” Avery said. “My name is Avery. And I really am here to help my sister adjust. If you could tell me where her rooms are, that would be a good start. I can help set it up for her before she returns.”

The man stared at him quietly for another long moment before saying, “Your Highness…I apologize for the bluntness, but you look like you’re about to keel over. I don’t think you’ll be much help with anything your sister needs. Give me a moment to settle things here.” He reached out and steadied Avery’s arm, and Avery was startled to find he’d been listing to one side. “You’ll be okay to wait?”

Avery nodded, and shook himself to wake up a bit more. It had taken him the entire two weeks to stop vomiting over the edge of the ship, just in time to land and find his legs wobbly again.

The man frowned at him, but let go and turned away to speak to some of the others bustling back and forth over the courtyard while Avery tried to gain his footing. He hadn’t felt so bad sitting in the carriage, but now that he was standing in full sun without Lisette, his vision was starting to blur with exhaustion.

Fortunately, his guide was back before Avery could do something stupid, like pass out on the stone in front of everyone. And he frowned the second he saw Avery. “Would you like an arm?”

Avery paused for a second. Then he said, “Yes. Please. Thank you. Whatever accepts the offer fastest.”

The man laughed, warm and full and genuine, then took Avery’s bag from him and wrapped an arm around Avery’s ribs. Avery tilted his head against the man’s shoulder and let him lead him into the—castle? Palace? Avery wasn’t sure. But it was less of a fortress than Ensheren’s royal residences. A good place for his sister to call home.

Inside was cooler, and Avery felt better immediately. His guide shifted his arm so at least a quarter of Avery’s weight was resting on his shoulder, and Avery let his settle against it, too. It was the first time since he’d gotten on that damn boat that he felt stable and his stomach stopped churning. But maybe that was because his guide smelled soothing and warm, like ginger cookies, or…or cinnamon. Whatever it was, Avery’s stomach stopped rolling over.

He managed to lift his head enough to look around as his guide practically dragged him through the polished hallways. He didn’t absorb most of it—just the impression of dark wood panels, wide windows letting in bright sunlight, and sculptures and paintings at every intersection. They passed through a set of heavy double doors in carved wood, and then into a smaller door down the hallway from that, and his guide let him go to stand on his own again.

They were in private chambers. Empty ones. Two doors were set against the far wall, and another one to Avery’s left. Between them were three couches and two armchairs, and one large table.

“These are my rooms,” his guide said. “You can bathe here and then take a nap while we wait for your sister and Kavi to come up for air and remember anyone else exists.”

“Kavi?” Avery asked.

“My brother,” his guide said. “Your sister’s new husband.”

“Your—your brother?”

His guide smiled at him. “My brother.”

The floor felt closer than it should have. “King Solon,” Avery said. “I—I’m sorry, Your Majesty. No one ever told me what you looked like.”

“I’d gathered,” the king said. “And no one told me you were coming. We’ll just have to both forgive each other. The bath is over here. I’ll find something for you to wear and I’ll put it in the dressing room.”

He left Avery alone in an alcove off of a bathing room with a bench. Avery sat down abruptly and pressed his face into his hands. He’d spent at least fifteen minutes using the king of a foreign country—the one Lisette’s fate was in the hands of—as a crutch.

While smelling like a cheap fishmonger who didn’t know what hygiene was.

What a wonderful first impression Ensheren was making on their new allies.

~~~~~~~~

The bath was large enough for Avery to stretch out in and had taps that ran fresh hot water. He slid in with a sigh and opened the jars next to him, looking for shampoo and soap. The first one had the same strong ginger scent the king had when—

When Avery had practically shoved his nose into his neck.

His face went red, and it wasn’t from the steam of the bath water.

The bottle was thin oil, though, not proper soap or shampoo. Avery left it open to scent the air while he cleaned up, and it was thick and heady in the bathroom by the time he felt properly clean and presentable The king—or someone who worked for him—had left clean clothes in the sitting room on the bench. They weren’t from his luggage, but if he didn’t have a room, no one would have unpacked his things, either. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, then pulled them on.

Soft pants, longer socks than Avery was used to, a shirt in a pale goldenrod color, and a dark blue tunic to go over it. He fiddled with the laces, unsure how tight Alham expected people to wear their clothing. Ensheren usually wore things closely fitted.

He tightened the waist in and tucked the extra lacing inside to hide it. Might as well remind the king he was from a foreign country. Maybe it would give him some grace for treating him like a walking stick.

His face flushed again at the memory, and he fiddled with his boots, waiting for the blush to fade before he stepped back into the sitting room.

The king was curled at a desk near one of the wide windows, feet tucked next to his legs. He glanced up from whatever he was writing when Avery joined him. “Feeling any better, Your Highness?”

Avery nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Solon. My name is Solon.”

Avery almost laughed in surprise. His breath came out in a sudden huff anyway. “You just called me Your Highness!”

Solon grinned. “You didn’t give me permission not to. I did.”

“I’ll call you by your name if you call me Avery,” he said.

“I think that’s a fair deal, Avery.” Solon made a soft humming sound. “You should get some sleep. I’m afraid they’re still cleaning up your rooms and hauling your things in there. It’ll be a few hours, I think.”

“I—”

“Are you not tired yet? If you want to stay up for a bit, I could use your help.”

The bath had woken Avery up, although he knew he’d fall asleep in minutes if he lay down. But he didn’t have a room yet, so did Solon want him to take his bed?

Avery tore his thoughts away from that. “What did you need?”

Solon waved to the chairs nearby. “Pull one of those up.”

Avery grabbed the nearest chair and slid it to where Solon pointed, then tucked himself into it while Solon rummaged for a clean sheet of paper. He handed Avery the pen. “Your family. I’m realizing I know very little about what my brother married into.”

Avery fiddled with the pen. “Then why did you agree to it?”

“Honestly, once I saw how Kavi reacted to your sister’s letters, I was sold on the arrangement. He…well. He liked what he learned of her immediately. And the details of treaties like this aren’t my job.”

Avery frowned. “You’re the king.”

Solon tilted his head. “I am. But I—well. Alham’s parliament decides what powers the monarch has. They vote on it every five years. And while the current officials are happy enough to have me help lead and oversee laws and even introduce some of my own, details of things like this are not my forte. Far more talented people than I do that.”

“They—vote? On what you’re allowed to do?”

Solon nodded. “The laws here don’t allow them to get rid of a monarch, exactly. But they can refuse to give an unpopular monarch or one no one trusts power until they abdicate. My grandfather was blocked from doing anything for three decades until he let my father take over. And my father only won their trust back by working his way up through the legislature and learning how it worked before they let him do anything.”

Avery cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I only had the time on the ship to read up on your country, and nothing like that was mentioned. I didn’t realize.”

Solon nudged the paper closer to Avery. “A family tree, please. And what each of you does. I’d ask your sister, but I’m not willing to interrupt newlyweds on their first day and night together.”

Aver turned pink at the implication. “I can do that.”

He drew marks for both his parents first, then took up the entire width of the paper to list out his brothers. “My father is the reigning king. He spends his days meeting with his advisors and the elected governors from each of the counties at home to make decisions and decide how they’re going to go be done.”

Avery drew two branches off the same root from his parents. “These are the oldest twins. Jamie is the heir. He spends his days shadowing our father and trying to learn everything and how to run things. He has two kids with his wife, but they’re both too young to take on any responsibilities yet. Zeke is second in line. He handles all the petitioners from around the country who arrive and need to speak to someone, and figures out how to resolve things. And if he can’t, he goes to Jamie and Dad.”

Avery drew another line. “And then the next twins, Jack and Max. Jack filters things for the older ones and makes sure that they’re not overwhelmed with too many things. He decides what’s most important to get their attention first, and redirects everyone else to other ways of handling issues.”

Solon hummed. “I think Jack was the one who first sent the letters of interest to me proposing I marry your sister.”

“You?”

Solon waved his hand. “Kavi was always more interested in marriage and children than I ever was. I suggested him to your brother instead, and he accepted. Your sister will still be the mother to any heirs. Alham doesn’t need a queen or a prince consort.”

“The…the prince consort?”

“The husband to the monarch. If I had one.”

Avery’s mouth fell open. The king could have a husband, if he wanted? Something burned in his stomach. His family had never said anything about his interest in other men, but Avery was—he was useless. And Ensheren didn’t need yet another heir. It was for the best he wouldn’t have any other children.

“The…the way your country works is very different than I’d imagined,” Avery said, choking back something clogging his throat to stare at the paper.

“I’m realizing that. Is marriage between two people of the same sex not allowed in Ensheren?”

Avery lifted one hand and found it shaking, and he waggled it back and forth. “No, we….we can, mostly. But the king…my father, or my brother, could never—they—they need to have children. Have direct heirs. It’s allowed for most people, but there are people with power who just. Can’t.”

Solon stared at his shaking hand for a long moment, then said, “Tell me about Max.”

Avery forced himself to look back at the paper. “Max does whatever he wants. He’s the most charming of us. He likes to mingle with the people in town and the rest of the country without going through proper channels. It’s hard to figure out when he’s in the castle and when he’s out. And he never tells anyone what he’s up to before goes and does it. Honestly, we usually hear of his escapades from the papers first. But it means he has more information on how things are going in the country than any of the rest of us. It’s why everyone likes him so much.”

“You like him,” Solon said.

“He’s everyone’s favorite brother,” Avery said. “Even Lisette’s.”

“And yet you’re here with her and not Max.”

“I don’t think Max has ever left the country. I don’t think he wants to. Besides, he’s busy. Formally, he’s in charge of most of the internal affairs of the country before anything has to be escalated.” Avery drew the next line before Solon could ask any more questions. “This is Lennox. He grew up watching after the knights training grounds and begging him to teach them, and joined up as soon as our father finally gave him permission. He’s worked his way up the ranks to be the Ensheren’s top general now.”

Avery drew two more lines. “This one is me. And then Lisette is the youngest. She was raised expecting to be married as part of a treaty, although we didn’t know it would be with Alham until the last couple of years. She’s ready to play her ambassador role. Don’t worry. She’ll be good at it.”

Solon pushed Avery’s hand back to the line for himself. “And what do you do? You didn’t say.”

“…Not…not much of anything,” Avery said. “By the time I was old enough to realize I needed to find something, my brothers already had things handled.” He shrugged. “Right now, I’m here to help Lisette get her bearings. That’s all.”

Solon watched him silently for a moment. Avery’s face went pink again, and he set the pen down. “Ensheren doesn’t need more royalty getting involved in things, and being given a job I’m not qualified to do would only cause more problems.”

Solon frowned, and Avery hated it. He knew he was useless. He knew he wasn’t contributing anything to his country the way royalty was supposed to. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that six princes was at least two too many, and while everyone had forgiven him for not having anything to prepare for in the future as a child, and he’d managed to put it off a few more years at university, every day since he’d turned twenty-five, more and more whispers had churned, wondering what his purpose was.

“I see,” Solon said finally. “Thank you. This will be helpful. Now, you should get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when our siblings come up for air, or when your rooms are ready. Whichever comes first.”

Avery took a slow breath to calm the frustration that had been building in his chest. Sleep. In Solon’s bed. But at least it would be in another room. “Thank you.”

Solon tilted his head. “There’re pillows on the couch over there. Do you want a blanket?”

Avery jolted in place. “No! No, that’s fine. Thank you.”

He turned away before Solon could read anything on his face and realize Avery had been thinking about Solon’s bed. Avery crossed the room to the couch and lay down, facing resolutely away from Solon.

He closed his eyes, took several slow breaths, and tried not wonder what Solon’s bed looked like.

~~~~~~~~

Solon woke Avery after true dark had fallen with a hand to his shoulder. Avery usually started awake when someone shook him, but this felt more like shifting awake on the boat, gentle and dizzying.

He blinked up at Solon in the dim lamplight, shaking himself to remind himself where he was. “Wha’ izzit?” he asked, and immediately clamped his mouth shut. If he couldn’t speak properly, he shouldn’t be talking at all.

Solon laughed. “Your room is ready for you, and your sister and my brother will be joining me for dinner soon. I thought you might want to change before they get here. You’re coming?”

Right. Avery was in borrowed clothing. “I should…definitely wear something…more presentable.” Even if Solon had seen him smelling and looking like a beached fish, the crown prince didn’t have to. And he was the one Avery should be focusing on, not Solon.

And what would Lisette have to say if Avery showed up to dinner looking rumpled and dressed in clothes that weren’t his?

…He definitely needed to change.

“I’d like to get ready,” he managed.

“Of course.” Solon helped him to his feet with a warm hand, soft except for the small finger callouses Avery was used to on artists. “I’ll show you your rooms. You can make it back here on your own, do you think, or would you like me to wait for you?”

Avery shrugged, and trailed quietly after Solon through the halls. Solon hummed something quietly to himself, but didn’t interrupt Avery’s contemplation of the palace walls now that he was awake enough to take it in properly.

The windows were wide and bright, the courtyards huge and full of gardens and not soldiers, and the walls hung with sculptures and paintings.

It felt safe. It would be a good place for Lisette to live. An unworried home without any need to be on guard constantly. Ensheren hadn’t seen a war in the last four decades, but the castle they’d been born into and all the ones they’d traveled between were still built with the lingering need to barricade in mind.

Solon’s home seemed more like a public showcase. Like it was designed to welcome people, like it belonged to the people, the way Solon’s job did.

Solon waved Avery into a series of small rooms—a bedroom, a small sitting room with a desk as if Avery had any guests to greet in Alham, and an attached washroom. Not lavish, but—it would do.

“It’s only two hallways,” Avery said. “I think I can make it back.”

Solon smiled. “Then I’ll see you shortly.”

Solon left him alone with a wave, and Avery dug through his wardrobe, pleased to find everything already unpacked and hung up for him. Avery didn’t normally fuss about his clothes, but normally he wasn’t meeting his sister’s husband.

Or trying to change someone’s horrible first impression of him. Avery was the useless prince of Ensheren, but he was still a prince. He could impress if he tried.

Hopefully.

He threw the borrowed—gifted—clothes onto his bed and swapped it out for his best pants, woven in a tight herringbone than shifted between gray and crimson, buttoned a gold shirt over it with dark brown buttons that matched his eyes, and wrapped it in place with a burgundy vest. Not the royal colors of Ensheren anymore than they were Alham’s—but they were Avery’s best colors, and he wanted to look nice. He rummaged through the wardrobe until he found his dark red coat and slid it on before brushing his hair out of the sleep mussed disaster and washed his face.

And then it was time to face Solon again.

Avery knocked at Solon’s door before opening it, and all three people in the room turned to him with a bright, “Avery!”

Avery froze at the sound of his name in unison from so many voices, then held up his hand to wave slightly, and drop it.

“Um. Hello.”

Solon smiled warmly, and Avery tore his eyes away from studying his face, hoping for surprise or at least approval, to meet his sister’s gaze. She’d gotten a bath and her hair curled down her back in loose waves over her nicest, newest dress.

She wanted to look nice for her husband. Good. That meant she liked him.

“Lisette,” he said. “You’re—” He stopped himself, then restarted, “You look nice.”

“So do you,” she said, eying him skeptically. “You put in effort.”

She still had one arm looped through her husband’s. It was easy to see that Solon was his brother, now that Avery had seen them both. They had the same dark hair fighting a wave, the same bright blue eyes, the same tall, slender build. Neither Solon nor Kavi was built to be a fighter like Lennox was, but neither was Avery. “Should I not want to make a good impression on your husband? I thought it would be good to at least try.”

The crown prince laughed and reached a hand out to shake Avery’s. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Avery ducked his head into a bow before shaking his hand. “Your Highness.”

“Kavi. My name is Kavi. And yours is Avery.”

“Kavi,” Avery agreed. “I’m glad to see my sister seems so eager to impress you.”

“Avery!” Lisette said, turning pink the same way he did.

“What? It means that you still like him as much as you did from the letters.”

Kavi laughed, a deep, warm sound that dragged another smile out of Avery. He was kind. He was friendly. And he kept turning toward Lisette like a magnet.

All good signs.

“Let’s eat,” Solon said, pulling the warming covers off the serving trays.

Kavi pulled a chair out for Lisette, then took the seat next to her. Avery took the seat next to Solon more gingerly than necessary and folded his hands in his lap, uncertain what pre-dinner rituals Alham observed.

Apparently, none, because Kavi started scooping noodles onto his plate as soon as Avery slid his chair closer to the table, and Solon stirred a pot of potatoes in some red-yellow glaze that was tangy enough to make Avery’s mouth water from across the table.

He took several thick pieces of bread, still warm, and buttered them, and slowly filled the rest of the plate with food. But he waited for Solon to take his first bite before he started eating.

Solon nudged Avery’s arm before he could get more than two bites into the lovely, warm duck and offered him a ladle filled with the sauced potatoes. “You should try these. They’re my favorite.”

“If you don’t like them, tell me and I’ll smack Solon for you,” Kavi said. “I asked for our chef to come up with something close to Ensheren’s food for you. I thought it would be good to acclimate you slowly. She even got a recipe book. But Solon cannot go a day without those damn potatoes.” Solon jerked under the table like he’d been kicked, and Kavi grinned at his brother.

“They taste good,” Solon said, sounding petulant and everything he hadn’t been the entire day while Avery collapsed on him. Lisette giggled into her bread and Avery couldn’t help a grin crawling onto his face.

“That does explain why you have peppered duck,” Lisette told her husband. “You remembered?”

Kavi turned to her with a smile that softened like butter over the bread Avery was busy shoveling into his mouth. “I would have double checked before asking our chef if I hadn’t.”

Avery’s chest warmed. Kavi and Lisette had been exchanging letters constantly for nearly two years already. They knew each other, even if they’d only met in person for the first time that day. He didn’t need to worry. Lisette knew what she was getting into far better than Avery did. She would be fine.

“You’re getting along well.”

Lisette pinked. “We’ve had a good day.”

“And I look forward to the next ones,” Kavi said, reaching over a tray of dumplings to touch her hand.

She smiled at him. “So do I.”

Avery fell quiet as he finished eating, eyes on his plate instead of his sister. She would be fine. Alham would be a good home. Kavi would be a good husband. Every single one of their brothers had insisted he accompany her, and even their mother had pulled Avery aside to give him her best guilt trip over his hesitance.

Maybe that would be for the best for Lisette. She didn’t need anyone to intervene.

He let Lisette and Kavi’s gentle flirting and Kavi teasing his brother wash over him without feeling the need to add anything. They were all content with each other, and he was content to know that.

Except that Kavi and Lisette and Solon all kept glancing at him, waiting for him to say something, and continuing with awkward pauses when he didn’t add anything. And by the time Avery had cleared his plate, Lisette had, clearly, gotten fed up with it. “Avery,” she said, “Kavi wants to know who my family is, too. And you’re the only one he’s getting the chance to before the wedding, and that isn’t for months. Will you please act like yourself?”

Avery startled in his chair. “What?”

“I miss the brother who used to sneak out of the castle with me and help me climb apple trees and bought me all the books our parents thought I shouldn’t be reading and taught me how to waltz after curfew.”

Avery blinked. “But Max did all of that.”

“Max did all of that with you. You’re the one that did all of that with me.”

Avery laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Max did not teach me how to waltz, Lisette.”

“He didn’t teach me either! Avery, I spent so much time telling Kavi about you. I want him to actually meet you. Stop being so quiet.”

“I was quiet at home, too,” Avery said, trying to bite back another laugh. “I’m tired. Give me a day or two.”

She leaned across the table to stare him down. “If you’re not acting like yourself in the week, I’m going to chase you around the courtyard with a stick.”

Avery’s helpless laughter was drowned out that time by Kavi’s, and Avery’s eyes darted to him again. He grinned at Avery—not worried about what Lisette had said, then—and stood up. “I think that’s a good reminder to all of us to get some sleep. Perhaps when you’ve gotten a chance to settle in here, Lisette won’t have to threaten you anymore.” He turned to his wife. “Let me escort you back to your rooms. They’re attached to mine if you need anything.” He winked. “Although with any luck, I’ll have wooed you into sharing my bed by our wedding.”

Solon made a disgusted sound from the back of his throat. “Kavi! Don’t be so crass. Her brother doesn’t want to hear that.”

Kavi stuck his tongue out at his brother. “That wasn’t crass, Solon. I was expressing interest. I kow explaining that to you is like trying to tell a fish about the desert, but it’s not inappropriate.”

Solon flushed red. “I’m not that bad.”

“And neither am I. Now I’m going to take my wife and settle in for the night. Good night, Solon.” He inclined his head to Avery. “It was good to meet you, Avery. I hope we’ll get some more time together once you’ve settled in here better.”

He escorted Lisette out the door, and Avery turned to Solon. “Thank you for your hospitality today. It…it’s been more than I could have expected.”

Solon raised an eyebrow as Avery straightened. “And why’s that?”

“Well I—I’m an uninvited guest. And yet—”

Solon gave him a smile, warm and bright, and it made Avery’s stomach flip over itself in a dangerous way. “I’ve been happy to help, don’t worry.”

“Right,” Avery said, which he was distantly aware wasn’t the right thing to say. He backed up towards the open door. “I’ll let you attend to your bed, then.”

He darted out the door before his face could turn red again and before he had to think about Solon and beds again.

~~~~~~~~

“Avery! I was wondering where you’d gone. You didn’t answer when I tried your door earlier.”

Avery straightened from where he was bent inspecting the palace garden’s flowers. “Solon! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be looking for me.”

Solon grinned. “If nothing else, I am expected to play host to royal visitors. And you’re the only one here that isn’t married to my brother.” He waved an arm back the way he came. “So let me do my job and show you around Alham’s capital.”

It wasn’t as if Avery had any reason to say no. And with the way Solon was smiling, he didn’t want to, either. So he smiled back, nodded, and let Solon lead him out of the palace and into the streets.

With no guards, at least none visible. Solon was dressed in the same unassuming clothing that had Avery mistake him for an attendant instead of a king, and no crown was in sight, but Avery still felt strange as they left the palace grounds, like someone had forgotten to give him a jacket in the winter. Like a weight was missing.

“Today we can go on foot,” Solon said. “We can’t reach everywhere in the city that way, but there’s plenty to see in walking distance.”

Avery nodded and stepped closer to him when a carriage passed by on the street, driving straight past the palace gates. Solon took the opportunity to lean in and whisper conspiratorially, “To be honest, most of my favorite places aren’t close, but maybe Kavi had a point in acclimating you slowly.”

Avery laughed and Solon grinned back like he was surprised to hear it.

“Well, what fun are you taking us to today?”

“I was going to start with the high street shops. Not that I’m trying to drum up the local economy, although parliament would probably like me to. But it’s also where the most…polite…street performers gather and it’s a good place to see everyone from all parts of the city head to shop. Unless you’d rather do something else? I could do my best to keep you off kilter so your sister chases you around with a stick.”

Avery shoved at Solon’s shoulder without thinking about it, the same way he would have any of his brothers. Solon didn’t budge, and Avery drew his hand back like he’d burned it. “I—I’m sorry.”

Solon caught his wrist before Avery could withdraw completely. “Avery, the treaties between our countries are already signed and I’m not going to take Kavi’s wife away from him.” He’d pitched his voice low and soft like he was talking to a skittish cat, and Avery felt tension melt from his face and shoulders embarrassingly quickly. “You don’t have to worry about offending me. It won’t cause any harm if you do, and I won’t hold it against you, either. We’re both getting to know each other. Are you going to do anything against Alham because I didn’t know who you were when we met?”

Avery blinked. “But you didn’t do anything.”

“I thought you were one of Lisette’s attendants trying to get out of work.”

“So? I thought you were your brother’s.”

Solon laughed. “See? We’re even. We’ve both done things that could have offended each other, and neither of us are mad. Right?”

Avery glanced sideways at him for a moment. “All right. You have a point.”

“So you’ll stop trying to be so careful?”

Avery lifted one shoulder. “I think you’ll be disappointed in how I act when I’m relaxed. Lisette made me sound much more adventurous than I am.”

“That’s okay. We’re starting small today. We can work our way out into the city as far as you’re willing to push yourself. Or until you start kicking me.”

Avery ducked his head and then smiled. “Is that always how Kavi gets you to leave him alone?”

Solon pressed a finger to Avery’s mouth. “Don’t go telling everyone his secrets.”

Avery’s breath caught until Solon dropped his hand away from Avery’s mouth again, and he pressed his lips together to imprint the feeling on them.

And so he didn’t say anything stupid.

~~~~~~~~

It was apparent by the time the week was out—and Lisette’s deadline had come—that Solon had every intention of taking Avery somewhere in the capital city every single day. At least until Lisette’s wedding, which was only five weeks away.

It was more attention than Avery was used to. More attention than he knew what to do with. But two weeks into his stay, he managed to hide away with Lisette for one of her dress fittings.

“Well, you’re having fun with Solon, aren’t you?” Lisette asked. “Right?”

Avery narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure out if she was trying to imply anything. He and Solon had done nothing remotely scandalous. The fact that Solon’s smile and presence was enough to flip Avery’s heart over in his chest wasn’t the point. But his sister could tell. She always knew when he she saw him with someone he’d gotten a crush on.

“I’m enjoying myself here,” Avery agreed before immediately changing the subject away from Solon. “More importantly, are you? Because one of us is staying here after the wedding, and one of us is going home with our parents and brothers. Has Kavi been showing you around?”

Lisette huffed. “We’ve been busy.”

“Busy with each other, or busy with the wedding? Because—”

“Oh, just because I’m not in charge of all of the details doesn’t mean I’m not involved in my own wedding, Avery! It’s in a month and I only just got here and I don’t know anyone yet and—”

Avery clamped his mouth shut as his sister ran out of steam. She was stressed—of course she was; she was trying to build an entirely new life somewhere she’d never been, and Avery had decided she was fine and spent his days entirely occupied with Solon and his ginger cologne that—no, Avery did not need to find someone to bring back to Ensheren. “What can I do to help?”

“Avery—”

“That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? Our brothers were pretty clear about that. I want to help you if I can, Lisette. Please.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she smiled while she did it. “So you’re only helping me because they asked you to? Not because you think I need help?”

“Your Highness,” the dressmaker said, kneeling at her waist, “I appreciate your spirit, but if you could have this conversation more sedately at least while I’m trying to pin things in place.”

Lisette went red up to her hairline. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had this done in a while.”

“You had this done two months ago to get that dress you wanted when you saw Kavi for the first time,” Avery said.

His sister scowled at him. “Will you hush?”

“You wanted me to be like this. Threatened me with a stick,” Avery said. “Now tell me what I can do to help you adjust here.”

Lisette’s shoulders slumped, but she caught herself before she did anything more to disturb the dressmaker’s work. “I don’t know, Avery. I just want some time alone with my husband again to get to know him and this country better.

A clap came from the door. “Done.”

Both Lisette and Avery jumped and turned to look at Solon leaning against the door frame. The dressmaker sighed and stood up to take a break and fetch something from his work kit.

“Solon!” Lisette said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for your brother. But if what you need is a day alone with my brother and this city, I can make that happen easily. The wedding details can manage a day without you. In fact, maybe even getting out of the city would be good. Our mother lives out of the city on a large estate near the woods. Would you like to visit her? It’s quiet and private there, but maybe meeting your husband’s mother wouldn’t help.”

Lisette blinked. “Your mother is still alive?”

Solon frowned. “I’m only thirty-one. My father’s death five years ago was very shocking, but it didn’t put my mother in any poorer health. She’s still quite young. She just wasn’t chosen as the next monarch.”

Thirty-one. When Solon had been Avery’s age, he’d taken up a crown. And Avery wasn’t even able to help his sister relax.

Lisette’s mouth opened into a soft circle. “Kavi gave me a brief explanation of how the lineage works here, but I didn’t realize your mother was still alive. Will she be coming to the wedding?”

“Of course. In the meantime, however, what would you like to do to squirrel away some alone time with my brother? I’m happy to do whatever I need to make it happen.”

Lisette hesitated, and the dressmaker attacked her waist with pins while she stood thoughtful and still.

“I think,” she said, “I would like to meet your mother before the wedding. Would she…what’s she’s like?”

“Cheerful, no nonsense, and very pleased Kavi found someone he likes so much,” Solon said. “I can’t promise she won’t have any questions for you, but I think she’ll be quite welcoming—and even if she gives you a proper interrogation, it’ll certainly be a distraction. I can pack you and Kavi off before nightfall and you’ll be there before morning.”

Avery nodded enthusiastically. “Just give me a list of things to handle while you’re gone, Lisette. I can at least do that much for you.”

“I…are you sure?” Lisette asked, pausing with a frown.

“Do you think I won’t do it properly?” Avery asked. “It’s for you, Lisette. I’ll do my best.”

Lisette laughed. “It has nothing to do with that at all, Avery. It just seems strange to let you handle things here while I go somewhere without you.”

Avery stood up, and sidestepped the dressmaker to take his sister’s hands. “That’s what this entire trip is meant to be. Go spend time with your husband. I’ve got this.”

~~~~~~~~

Avery did not have things. His sister left for a week see Kavi and Solon’s mother, leaving Avery with a list as long as his forearm to see to. And he only knew how to do one of them—checking the translation of the wedding program for the foreign guests. But he’d asked after that first. It wasn’t ready to be looked at yet.

And so he gave up his borrowed desk in his borrowed rooms and took the list to Solon’s room, hoping to plead help from him yet again.

Solon answered the door with a surprised smile and welcomed him inside immediately.

“Do you need something?”

“I’m sorry. I know we agreed that you wouldn’t need to host me this week while I took care of Lisette’s things, but I was hoping you could at least direct me to who I need to talk to. Lisette has been handling all of this alone.”

While Solon took him sight-seeing and showed off his favorite statues and museums and strange buildings, and they laughed at things for hours. But Solon knew that.

Solon waved that off. “It was starting to get boring without you around anyway.” He gestured to his desk. “I’ve actually had to get work done.”

Avery couldn’t help a smile at that. “As far as I can tell, Lisette is working on blending marriage traditions, but I don’t know if you have anyone besides the two of us who’s familiar with the traditions in Ensheren, or who I should speak to about implementing them.”

Solon snagged the list Lisette made out of Avery’s hands and spent a few quiet moments reading it. Avery let him and glanced around the room. It looked about the same as every other time he’d been in Solon’s rooms, except that his desk looked like it was being rapidly devoured by papers. And Solon looked the same, except that his hair had definitely had hands running through it, because the waves had gotten untamed and curled up at every angle.

Avery did his best not to stare as Solon read and then handed the list back to him. “None of this should be complicated. Either your sister was making things easy for you, or she managed to tie herself up in knots about it from stress. I know the wedding is only in three weeks, but,” Solon stretched his arms wide, “we’re royalty. This wedding is a national holiday, and a sign of goodwill when your family arrives. Everyone is going to do everything possible to make it happen properly on short notice. Honestly, I could give that list to my secretary and it would be done before your sister comes back tomorrow.”

“Lisette asked me to do it,” Avery said. “I’d like to see to it myself. I don’t doubt your secretary, but…”

Solon nodded once. “Of course. Jan is probably extremely busy as is. He’s had enough to take care of with both of you here. So.” He reached back to the list and tapped the first item. “We can take care of several of these things by talking to the priest. I haven’t had a chance to show you the temple yet, but we have a nondenominational one in the palace. The priest who will be officiating the service works there, and she can refer us to someone who can help with how you do your vows to ensure we do both.”

“We?” Avery asked.

“Avery, I’m very tired of paperwork today. Let me with you, please. Anything to get moving.”

Avery laughed. “Well, I can’t say no to the king.”

“You’ve said no to me three times in the last week,” Solon said, slinging an arm around Avery’s shoulders to steer him back out the door.

~~~~~~~~

Working out wedding details with Solon was much more nerve wracking that it had any right to be. It wasn’t his wedding. But seeing Solon smile at him in the largest chapel Avery had ever seen near the altar while Avery repeated the same steps his sister would make to arrive before the priest and demonstrate taking Solon’s hands as she would Kavi’s, and then teaching the priest how to tie their hands together with his sister’s sash was—

Well. Avery’s heart certainly got more of a workout than he would have if he’d gone sprinting for the same amount of time.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to dance with Solon to set up room for the family dances Ensheren enjoyed to celebrate the unions. He didn’t have to touch Solon while going over the most important menu items with their cook. And he didn’t even have to make eye contact while sorting out who would be kneeling, who would be standing, and when.

They broke from the palace again to hurry over to see the priest from Ensheren. Alham’s capital had a small immigrant population and traveling community—it would get larger now that Lisette was married to Kavi—enough, at least to have a small district devoted to them and their own cultural buildings.

“I can’t believe this place existed in your city and didn’t take me here first,” Avery said as they settled into a carriage to head across the city. “What was that about trying to give me time to adjust slowly?”

“It’s not adjusting if you just insulate yourselves with your people, is it?” Solon asked. “Besides, it takes forever to get there. Do you think they’ll recognize you?”

“Maybe. If they’ve been home recently.”

“Mmm. So you’ve been at more of your official events than you like to pretend.”

“Well, I attend them,” Avery said. “I don’t do much more than that.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

Avery kicked at Solon’s shin lightly and then turned red at the familiarity. Kavi did that. But Kavi was Solon’s brother. Avery just wanted the excuse to touch him.

“Hey!” Solon said, breaking into laughter. “What was that for?”

“Don’t sound so skeptical. You’ll see when my family gets here. They’ll take over all the final details without me having to do anything.”

“And yet Lisette wants you next to her at the altar, not any of them.”

“Well, she only gets one,” Avery said, avoiding Solon’s eyes. “And I don’t have another role to perform.”

“I don’t think Max is her favorite brother,” Solon said. “That’s all.”

“She’s not even the one who asked me to come. The rest of our family sent me with her. They were very pushy about it.”

Solon sat up straighter in his seat. “Oh. I didn’t realize that.”

Avery shrugged. He didn’t like thinking about it. Lisette hadn’t picked him, and the rest of his family wanted him out of their way for weeks. It made sense, but it still stung. Avery had always done his best, if not to help, at least not cause problems for anyone.

He thought he was still succeeding. Solon liked him, at least. If he and Kavi hadn’t both made it so clear that Solon never thought about romance, he would have even called it flirting. But a friendship with a king was no small thing.

Except when his sister was married to the crown prince of the same country. Then, a friendship didn’t matter. And neither did Avery’s crush on him.

~~~~~~~~

The night before Avery and Lisette’s parents and brothers arrived for the wedding, Alham held a celebration. It would last into the next days, to greet their new allies. It would last at least a week, even with the wedding festivities shortly after.

But the night before they arrived, they heralded the start of the holidays with fireworks.

Solon took Avery out of the palace to watch. He settled them on a patch of grass in a park he’d taken Avery to the first week he’d been there, high on the far edge of the city, with a view of the entire sprawl of buildings beneath them. Plenty of people had joined them to watch the show in the sky over the harbor, setting out blankets and picnic baskets.

“What about Kavi and Lisette?” Avery asked as he settled into one of the same blankets he’d borrowed his first day in Alham to sleep on Solon’s couch. He was wearing the same gold shirt he been given then under his favorite red coat, too.

“Kavi is almost certainly going to take Lisette to the top towers in the palace to watch,” Solon said, unpacking the bag of snacks he’d brought with them. “It’s more private and closer to the fireworks. He likes it better. I think it’s more comfortable to watch fireworks up here.”

Avery hummed. He had to agree. Watching in the palace seemed fancy. Exclusive. But he was with everyone else in Alham who wanted to be there, with Solon at his side, and he could imagine Max wandering around making friends with everyone. Avery couldn’t manage that sociableness, but he liked the idea of it.

It felt like where Avery belonged.

Lisette would like the privacy, though. She’d never gotten much, as the only princess of Ensheren. Avery could blend in better among their brothers.

“Is Kavi nervous?” he asked. “Lisette is torn between nervous and excited. But like you said, everything’s already official. This is just the party to celebrate it.”

“You know, I actually don’t think he is,” Solon said, settling onto the blanket next to Avery and folding his legs so he could rest his arms on his knees. “But he’s never been the type for nerves.”

“Lucky him.”

Solon laughed much louder than Avery’s muttered aside deserved. “I know. I’ve always been jealous. He would have been better at being king than I was, but that wasn’t how the votes went.”

“They get to design your job to your strengths, don’t they?” Avery said. “Yours were what they wanted, not Kavi’s.”

Solon raised an eyebrow and gave Avery the same once over he had when they first met. Avery felt his cheeks go as pink as they did the first day, too, but the sky was almost dark enough that he could believe Solon didn’t see it this time. “And what are my strengths, Avery? Why would they pick me over Kavi?”

Avery went redder, and this time he knew Solon saw it because his grin widened. “You…you’re thoughtful. You know everything about this city, at least, and you can tell me anything about your country any time I have a question about anything. You know how to solve problems, more neatly than I ever would. You know exactly who to ask for help and how. Who wouldn’t want you to be in charge?”

Solon’s mouth fell open and for a brief moment, he was visibly speechless. Then he looked away, swallowed, and recovered enough to say, “Thank you. That’s quite the compliment.”

Before Avery had to think of something else to say to that, the first explosion overhead broke. He turned in unison with Solon and every other person in the park with them toward the sparks of light breaking up the dark sky over the harbor.

Avery had always liked fireworks. He’d though of them as pretty things as a kid, like the paintings on his wall, but when he’d asked how to make them, the chemistry of it had overwhelmed him until he’d given up understanding.

They were magic. Made by talented, clever people with a purpose. And the purpose was to make people happy.

Solon edged closer as the show went on and the air cooled. Avery tightened his jacket around him and leaned closer to Solon’s warm skin.

And he stayed there after the last firework went off and those around them started to pack up and leave, his eyes on the sky. Until Solon shifted close enough to jostle Avery’s shoulder and Avery turned with an apology in his throat for waiting too long after the fireworks were done to help pack things up and leave.

But Solon wasn’t trying to pack up their blankets. He was staring at Avery, his eyes unreadable in the dark, his mouth soft and open.

Avery’s eyes drifted to the shadows playing on Solon’s face from the few lamps in their park that had slowly started being relit now that the fireworks were over. Drifted down to his mouth and stared at it, listing forward the way he had the first day they met and he was unstable and ill and Solon was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Avery,” Solon said, his voice soft, and Avery jolted upright, shaking himself. He’d been about to kiss Solon. Solon, who wasn’t interested in any of that. Solon, who was absolutely not an option for any of a hundred other reasons—starting with the fact that their siblings were married and there was no point. If Solon was going to get married, it would have to be to someone useful.

Solon startled himself as Avery set into action and stood, and he slowly started packing their things up as if he’d just woken from a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Avery avoided Solon the next morning. And the next afternoon. And it was easy to do it at first, with the chaos of preparing for far more royal guests than Lisette or Avery themselves represented. Avery managed to keep well out of his way all the way up until it was time to have dinner with his parents and brothers, and Lisette, Kavi, and Solon, and Solon’s mother.

Solon caught him on the way to the proper dining hall—Solon’s room wouldn’t fit so many people for dinner—and stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Avery! I expected to see you around today. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been around,” Avery said, looking away immediately. “It’s easy not to notice when there’s so many of us.”

“Except that I was looking for you, specifically, not a prince from Ensheren,” Solon said. “And you’ve not been around at all. Are you avoiding your family?”

“What? No, nothing like that.”

“Then what happened?”

“I just think too much has been happening,” Avery said. “There’ve been so many people to help adjust.”

There was a pained sound to their side, and Avery and Solon both turned to see Kavi with Lisette on his arm further down the hallway. Kavi dropped Lisette’s arm and stepped forward, grabbing Avery’s hand with his arm.

“Avery,” he said, “my brother is bad at this. He has no practice, because he’s never wanted to do this before. But he is trying to find out if you want to stay here in Alham. He’s spent the last six weeks trying to convince you to stay, hoping you’d fall in love with the country, so he could keep you around.”

Solon’s face turned redder with every word from his brother. But he didn’t argue or protest any of it.

“Will you—please, Avery, just put my brother out of his misery and tell him if you’re going to stay or not. Before dinner, please. I can’t imagine having to sit through an entire meal with the two of you so awkward around each other.”

Lisette tugged on her husband’s arm. “We should leave them be,” she said. “Avery, don’t come to dinner until you’re done talking to Solon about this. Please.”

“Lise—”

But she didn’t stop, and she and Kavi had turned the corner before Avery could even finish her name, leaving him alone again with Solon.

Avery turned back to Solon, unsure what to say after that. “Um.”

“I—uh.”

They stared at each other in awkward silence for a long moment before Solon finally broke it again. “So? Are you willing to stay? Here? Even after your parents leave?”

“You…you really want me to?”

Solon grabbed for Avery’s hands and took them in both of his. “Avery. I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. I didn’t even know I could like someone the way I like you. But you’re not useless, and you’re not unwanted. You care. You want to know everything about everyone, and you want to do your best to help. Maybe—maybe starting over somewhere without the expectations and your siblings taking care of so much will make it easier for you to find something to do here. You’ve always wanted to date men, haven’t you? Spend your life with one? And your parents and siblings all pushed you to come here, where that’s….where you can do that. They like you, Avery—you’ve never once said you don’t get along with them. And they wanted you to come here, where they wouldn’t be hanging over your head and—and maybe you could marry someone if you wanted.”

Avery blinked, then looked down at their hands. “You really think that’s what they were trying to do?”

“So much so that I asked Lisette about it, and she turned pink the same way you do when you get caught. She asked if I was trying to keep you.”

Avery ducked his head against a growing smile. He could see Lisette asking that. Could see her hoping for that. “If you’ve wanted me to fall in love with Alham, you’ve succeeded. And if….if you wanted me to fall in love with you, then…well…it’s still early. But I think you’re succeeding there, too.”

Solon’s face brightened like the sun and his smile could have cracked his face in half. “So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll have to talk to my parents about it,” Avery said, worming his hands out of Solon’s to rest them on his shoulders. “But if you’re right, I think they’ll be happy for me to stay here. Especially if we have a treaty and they’ll have someone to take care of Lisette.”

“And Lisette can take care of you,” Solon said, tucking his hands around Avery’s waist.

“Mmm,” Avery agreed, a grin growing across his face. “Now if you want me to stay, Your Majesty, perhaps you should start proving it with a kiss?”

Solon’s hands tightened as he jolted in surprise, and he met Avery halfway.

#writing #my writing #The Use of the Heart #I guess #literally just threw a title together #it's awful #the story's not #read it #and if you feed it to ChatGPT on purpose I'll haunt you with a rusty knife

30 notes · View notes

nausikaaa · 2 days ago

Text

Six Sentence Books Sunday

hello y'all! i've been having a busy week, trying to get all my christmas shopping done before December even begins, because otherwise i know the entire month will escape me and i'll wind up realising i've missed someone on christmas eve. despite my efforts, i still haven't got anything for my dad- usually he's the easy one to buy for, but this year i'm just stumped.

i'm also putting my billy goat Hadrian out with the girls (Juno, Daisy, Lucy and Mina) in just under a week, but Daisy was getting pushed around and picked on, so i separated her last week so she can put on a little weight and relax beforehand, because if she's stressed, she may not come into season. then it snowed. goats are herd animals, they prefer to have company, so i made sure she could see the others through the fence, but it turns out she is absolutely loving having her warm little hut to herself while the others all share the big shed, while Hadrian has a corner of the hay shed to himself, with wickets keeping him from the hay.

flattering photos of the handsome chap and damsel in distress before the snow hit:

sorry for the ramble. anyway! writing! well... i haven't been doing much lately, to be honest. when i'm in a writing slump, i like to read instead, and i view it as putting words in my brain so that it can make it's own words. it also helps me pick out things i do and don't want to emulate in my own writing. so instead of sentences, here are six books I read this year which i took something from:

We Solve Murders by Richard Osman, from which I am taking that it's okay to just use "said" instead of using a billion synonyms, as it blends in to the background and allows the story to flow more naturally. unless the way something is said is really relevant, it's better to show a character's feelings another way.

American Hippo by Sarah Gailey, which has such easy to follow yet engaging action and fight scenes, which I aspire to.

Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie, which had me sobbing inconsolably at the end. if a book prompts a physical reaction in me, that's an instant 5 stars. it's based on the ancient greek play Antigone, and though you don't need to know the play to enjoy the book, it really does deal an additional sucker punch to know how that story ends and yet hope so desperately the whole time: maybe it will turn out okay this time? a masterclass of foreshadowing and implication, somebody can literally die and it go unsaid, but you will know and it will destroy you.

Alcestis by Katherine Beutner. I hated this book. Plot? I barely know her. Consent? What's that? Resolution? Nah, pass. I learned what not to do from this garbage.

Percy Jackson: Wrath Of The Triple Goddess by Rick Riordan. I actually read both of the new pjo books that came out this year and honestly, they've shown me that sometimes a book can just be fun. There's no world ending drama, but still emotional moments and tension, and the whole story takes place over a matter of days. It doesn't have to be perfect, it can just be a good time.

The Amber Fury by Natalie Haynes. As somebody who writes a lot about grief, this book really helped with that by depicting it in such a raw and honest way, allowing the audience to connect with it even if they've never experienced the kind of loss the main character has. I do draw on my own experiences, but this helped me put it into words. It also shows how healing is always possible, no matter how severe the grief, so long as you have the right support system, something I am still muddling through.

an invitation to share some sentences or some books: @forabeatofadrum @cutestkilla @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @larkral @that-disabled-princess @orange-peony @aristocratic-otter @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @confused-bi-queer @shrekgogurt @comesitintheclover @raenestee @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @noblecorgi @shemakesmeforget @ileadacharmedlife @supercutedinosaurs @artsyunderstudy @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 and @ninemagicks

#six sentence sunday

23 notes · View notes

iizuumi · 19 days ago

Note

Do you want my soul in exchange for more shirtless Soshiro? I'll give it to you, just say the word!!

dskjfhskjdhf please keep your soul I don't think it would like being separated from you 🙏

#answered #hoshina soshiro #5 years later i finally answer this ask skdjfhs #so sorry it took so long i've been all over the place #but he was a fun lil warmup doodle today hehe #my art

258 notes · View notes

gilgil-machine · 5 months ago

Note

Which media(animes, lightnovels, manga, visualnovels, games etc) containing Gilgamesh have u finished? And which ones did u like the most when it came to Gilcontent?

Oof that's an interesting and kinda tough question because there's a lot of things in which Gilgamesh appeared in which I don't even remember them whole😅 So let's just say that I read and finished things which I was able to get my hands on or managed to find and they were available in English.

And my favorite thing of all time will always be fate extra ccc because that game just made me fall in love with Gilgamesh completely. The way his character was written in this game is just a pure masterpiece because on one hand we have this arrogant asshole king that we all hate love, we also have this big man-child dork that we roll our eyes at adore but also we have this deep and emotional character which just makes you want to just hug him tightly and never let go. And his character development is just so good. The way he goes from "This is your fight I'm just here for my own amusement." to "I am your blade and your enemy is my enemy" and how he slowly opens up to Hakuno and goes from always saying that he's perfect and being all nonchalant about everything to showing his emotions and admitting his flaws. Such a good game. Every Gilgamesh fan MUST play this game 100%.

Also I love fate extra ccc anthology because

Naked dork Gil

Expression of his more emotional and caring side of his character (not without being tsundere as well)

The next favorite thing is of course Babylonia and it's an emotional wrack. Like you see the turmoil of emotions through which Gilgamesh is going through while at the same time hiding it from anyone but still sometimes we see that mask slightly crack and it's just so sad and I wanted to hug him during such moments.

I mean just look at him, this man is so emotionally broken...

Also another thing I love about Babylonia this the way they show how Gilgamesh actually cares about his city and about his people despite him being a horrible person and just full fledged tyrant in the past. Like he knows everyone by name and how he tries to like indulge himself into the news and life of Uruk and play with kids a bit but at the same time keeping his distance from everyone. Ugh, just so wholesome and so painful.

Also this moment, such sweet moment when we see Gilgamesh from different perspective where he appears more human.

Also I like fate hollow ataraxia because again we can see Gilgamesh being a total dork and a geek that loves to read manga (and most likely play video games) and just hang out with kids and go fishing. So precious, so cute. 100/10

#phew that was a lot #sorry it took me so long to answer it because I've been all over the place and just couldn't put my thoughts into one piece #and I still think that I forgot something #there's so much about Gil that I love him for #answers #txt #gilgamesh

20 notes · View notes

prime-adeptus · 9 months ago

Text

RETROUVAILLE – SHOKUDAIKIRI MITSUTADA X READER

Shokudaikiri returns to the citadel after a long journey.

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader, plain fluff, happy reunions, can be read as platonic or romantic. Saniwa does a bit of trolling but it's all in good fun. ~600 words

NOTES.⠀requested by @mintellaine!! thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy this - Micchan being in love with you for several paragraphs straight

divider by cafekitsune | part of Us, in the Sands of Time ficlet collection!

It must’ve been three or four weeks since Shokudaikiri left the citadel for his training excursion. An exhausting process, but one that was worth it all. He felt stronger, wiser, and most importantly, more reliable to his dear saniwa.

It wasn’t your first time sending off the swords and being without them for a while. Every once in a while, you’d be approached by one of them asking for permission to go on a journey. Ever the supportive one, you’d always say yes and make sure to tell them how proud you were of them before they left. You weren’t quite obligated to send them off yourself, but that was just the kind of person you were.

Shokudaikiri smiled fondly as he remembered how you were teary-eyed watching the tantou leave. He teased you for not doing the same for him and you playfully shooed him, unable to hold back your giggles. He wondered how you’d been doing in his absence. He sent you letters, but with his wandering, you couldn’t respond. It wasn’t quite the same as getting to be close to you, which was why he felt more motivated today—he’d be returning home.

With a flash, he was back on the grounds of the citadel. It took a while to readjust to the sudden change in lighting, but as the world came back to clarity, he could see his brothers and comrades rushing to greet the returning swords. He wasn’t the first one back. That was fine, he supposed. He wasn’t the most competitive, especially for the mundane.

Your expression was bright and loving as you approached the pavilion, noticeably excited for their returns. He stepped forward, ready to tell you all about his journey and how he missed you, but his smile soon dropped when you approached Taikogane first.

Shokudaikiri was about to wonder if you were mad at him for something. Surely he was consistent in sending you letters, sometimes a souvenir from his travels if he found something you liked. Was it something he did before he left? That couldn’t be. You were open with him.

You flashed him a cheeky grin, and all of his worries dissipated.

Ah, that was your game.

With your usual team away on their respective excursions, as were your most trusted confidants, which meant that you’d spent time with others outside your usual circle. He found it endearing how you always tried to form a bond with all of the swords. You didn’t see them as tools; to you, they were people, they were your friends. You treated all of them as your equals, even though you were their master. The tantou’s playfulness must’ve rubbed off on you somehow.

Relieved that you weren’t upset, he watched as you went down the line one by one until you were finally in front of him. You had your arms crossed over your chest, biting back a smile as you told him, “You’re late.”

“And you greeted the others before me,” he said, feigning offence and sadness in his tone. “Was I mistaken in believing I was your favourite?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. You went quiet as if you were thinking of what to say next, only to break that silence with cheerful laughter as you threw yourself in his arms. Shokudaikiri responded to the gesture in kind, wrapping them around your frame and gently rocking the both of you from side to side. You pulled away with a content sigh, much to his chagrin. Still, he couldn’t help but respond to your happiness with love, warmth blossoming in his chest.

He was finally home.

#sorry this took so long I've been all over the place TT #all #shokudaikiri mitsutada x reader #shokudaikiri x reader #touken ranbu x reader #tkrb x reader

44 notes · View notes

kindahoping4forever · 1 year ago

Note

I miss your fics. I hope you’re doing well tho

I appreciate this, thank you 🥹

For the record, I miss my fics too! This unofficial hiatus has been out of necessity rather than choice, and I can honestly say there hasn't been a day where I don't fantasize about A Grand Return. 💙

#i suppose I've been a bit vaguer than usual about all this #but the short answer is I was still writing consistently up until the end of March #when I had a health incident that was ultimately the fault of the piss poor excuse for care one of my doctors was giving me #& while I'm much better now I've essentially been dealing with the reverberations of that - physically but tbh mostly mentally - since then #so there's that lol #and then also now that it's been so long since I've posted anything I honestly feel super insecure about it #idk for a lot of reasons i question if there's a place for me in the fic world anymore #i hope there is! but i question it #so. just a bit of a look behind the curtain lol #i started tinkering with an old WIP a couple weeks ago and that was nice #and i have pitched like 5 different ideas to Cass over the last week 😂#so clown brain is still there I just need the energy and perhaps some confidence 🤓#i truly appreciate you taking the time to send the message - honestly the discussion/excitement is what i miss most about sharing my fic #sorry this took a minute to answer but i had to decide what to say... and then decide to bury it in the tags obviously 😂💙💙💙#ask #anon #kh4f writing

8 notes · View notes

lunaetis · 1 year ago

Text

@furiaei asked :

right back at eden! also you know she would have slapped a lipstick kiss mark on the free space because rules? whomst?

are you eden's type ? || no longer accepting

─「エデン」─ this woman reminded her of a certain stellaron hunter, someone that brought a rather mixed feelings to her whenever the TRAILBLAZER came face to face with them. mya, however, gave a sense of a free-spirit despite having her part to play in things. the marks she ticked on this bingo was a telltale sign enough.

" you're ... quite unpredictable. " she remarked. that wasn't said as a complaint, either, just a simple observation. the fact that eden felt like she could have understood the other when their eyes met might be because of this, how she resonated with her on many levels as indicated in this sheet. " that free-spirit of yours ... i envy it. " there, she admitted that.

#furiaei #.answered #.answered meme #.[ eden | trailblazer ]#[ the original ask somehow includes two pics of the bingo so #i answered it on a new post instead !#HKLJKHK SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT LIKE THIS IS BASED ON #WHAT YOU TOLD ME SO FAR ABT MYA #( I WILL REPLY TO YOUR DISCORD MESSAGES SOON I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN ALL OVER THE PLACES )#BUT FOR NOW HAVE THIS ]

2 notes · View notes

aspiring-prototype · 5 months ago

Text

Thank you for the tag @novafire-is-thinking !

I don't consume a large variety of media, so yes, I also have Shadow and Soundwave as options pretty awkward to me

Not tagging, but anyone is welcome to join!

Not me having some kinda type... Who shall I tag? I think I wanna tagggggg... @mybugsmybugsmybugs @mexicangela @lunar-years @biscuitboxpink but no pressure!! I just thought it would be fun!

#sorry this took so long; I ended up doing an entire explanation the other day of why I picked who instead of everyone else in the tags #forgot about the tag limit #everything. gone. and i forgor #but now I shall tell you why you Nova #give me the vibes of Councilor Mel Medarda the most #(I've been stuck on ep3 for over a month this is just going on what I currently know and your summaries)#I've crossed out Shadow; 22 and Mizu from the start; the I considered Obake. Nope #Then Little Prince; a good one but no #the innocence is too great #for Jo March I believe she is regularly vocal; something you don't strike me as #and Soundwave!#He was close; after all you post and write about him so much #but those morals and ethics he shows plus the kind of choices he makes...#so thus; Mel takes first place #she is clever and calculating; but still cares for her people #“is hesitant to support rash solutions to problems.”#so yea. that's what I think. this is the impression you've made on me.#I apologize if I have made any hurtful and incorrect assumptions or comments #polls #tag games

6K notes · View notes

heropilled · 5 months ago

Text

❝what ?? don't like the black ?? or is it the ooze ?? it's always the ooze ...❞

@mythcaels liked for a one-liner

#★ ' peter / ic .#mythcaels #hiiiiii sorry this took so long i've been all over the place ehe

1 note · View note

yueebby · 8 months ago

Text

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom.

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy.

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap.

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in.

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats. honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru.

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room.

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired.

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi.

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.”

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence. his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato– what is going on?!”

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

3K notes · View notes

cat-got-your-tongue · 13 days ago

Text

too sweet for me

Dp&W!Logan howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You've not been feeling like yourself, and you take it out on logan until one day he decides he can't take it anymore.

Word count: 4.2k

Authors note: I'm still trying to get into the swing of writing. I hope you enjoy. Not proofread. My requests are open. Pictures used are not mine found on Pinterest. Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.

You had been in a foul mood all day, no better yet all week. Any little thing Logan did got under your skin. He used your shampoo, and suddenly, you were slinging the bottle across the bathroom. He made your coffee, and you snatched it away from him. He said good morning, and you responded with a roll of your eyes and a "good morning" under your breath. It seemed like all you wanted to do was pick a fight. And your attitude was aimed solely at him.

Logan noticed how relaxed and sweet you were with Wade. He watched as you laughed, and it he wouldn't lie it stung him a bit. You seemed to enjoy that annoying fucks company more than his. Logan had been trying so hard to get back into your good graces for the past couple of days now. When he spoke to you, he made sure his tone of voice was soft. He didn't want to trigger whatever animosity you had for him.

He didn't like feeling as if he were walking on eggshells around you. But he didn't know what to do - or what he did for you to act this way. The only thing he knows is that when you got this way, he hated it. Logan had a hard time controlling his temper, and you certainly knew how to test his patience. So much so that he had to leave the apartment you two live in and spend the night at Wades place.

Today, he had enough.

Logan had been trying to put your bookshelf together today. One you picked out at ikea, and he made a comment on building you a better one that would last much longer. You were hell bent on this particular shelf that could fit right in the corner of your living room. You bugged him all week to do it. But he had been busy working, and then by the time he came home, he was exhausted.

"Baby, can ya' grab me a beer while i do this?" He spoke up as he looked over the instructions. His eyes trained on the visual image on the flimsy piece of paper. His vision straining a bit.

"No," you snapped when logan asked you to get him a beer from the fridge. "Get it yourself. I'm not your maid."

Logan sighed and took a deep breath. He didn't want to snap at you, but you made it really fucking hard not to. "Fine."

He got up, tossing the instructions down and going over to the fridge. You were standing there as his shoulder brushed yours, and his hard gaze fell on you. You shrunk down a bit and went back to sit down at the table. You didn't know why you were being an asshole. You wish you weren't this way. You always seemed to get agitated with the people who never deserved it.

"Wanna tell me what crawled up your ass?"Logan popped his beer open and took a long swig. "I'm trying not to react but it's really hard dealing with your bitchy attitude all week and I've been trying my fuckin' best to please ya."

Logan regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Your nonchalant reaction to them only pissed him off more.

You didn't respond. You only shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your book at the table. You couldn't tell him what was wrong, because you had no idea either. He didn't do anything. You were just not in a good mood, and unfortunately, logan was taking the blunt of it. You know his feelings were probably hurt. Especially after seeing you so upbeat and happy when Wade was around.

Logan took another sip of his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table right next to you, causing you to jump a little. He leaned over the back of the chair. his lips ghosting your ear. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you didn't need to see his face to know he's mad. You've pushed him too far. He had been patient, and you kept pushing. You kept snapping and being mouthy.

"Go in the bedroom and get undressed." His voice is low and dangerous in your ear.

"But" you tried to argue back, knowing what he wanted to do.

"Don't." His voice was soft again. "No buts I've had about enough of your fuckin' attitude. Go in the bedroom, get undressed, and I'll meet ya' in there."

You turned to look up at him from your seat. Your eyes pleaded for him to change his mind. Yet you knew you deserved it. Everything you've done and said led up to this moment.

"Now." He commanded and picked up his beer and finished it off.

You quickly rose to your feet and carefully got up, trying not to look up at him. He could be intimidating when he's angry. He'd never actually hurt you. You and logan had this agreement since you began dating. Punishments were a pretty normal thing. Logan hated giving them just and much as you hated getting them. (Well, you and him didn't hate them all the time) they did help you, and he knew that. All of the times, when you were overwhelmed with emotions and didn't know how to handle them — this was an outlet for you to let it all out. You would ask for a punishment. Logan always gave you what you wanted and pampered you when it was all done.

You went into your shared room and stripped down until you were completely naked. You sat on the edge of the bed, hanging your head. Hoping logan would take some pity on you. The room was dark, save for the sunset peaking through your curtains.

Logan sat down at the chair you were in before leaving. He tried to collect himself before joining you. He really just wanted you to talk to him. He wanted to understand you. Understand what he did wrong. Understand why you seemed so angry, but he remembered your eyes. You looked so sad and unsure of yourself. All he wanted to do was scoop you up in his arms and protect you from your feelings. He knows doing this will help clear your mind.

He sat there for a couple more minutes, letting you anticipate what was coming, but also trying to calm himself.

Finally, logan walked into the room and saw you at the edge of the bed. You looked defeated. His eyes softened slightly, but he knew he had to go through with this. If you didn't want the punishment, you would use your safeword. You've used it many times before. Since you didn't say anything and you complied to strip off your clothes. He sensed you wanted this punishment if it made you nervous.

"Look at me, baby." He walked to stand above you. His finger lifted your chin up. Your eyes met his. You made it so hard for him to stay mad at you.

You were just so sweet even if you were a fucking pain in the ass to handle. Too sweet for someone like him sometimes.

You looked up at him, his touch was gentle on your face. His hazel eyes weren't boring into yours. He seemed remorseful for what he was about to do. He knew he had to. He couldn't let you continue being so rude and disrespectful towards him. He also knew you needed this. Your body language told him everything.

Logan let go of your chin and took off his white tank top, throwing it across the room. Your eyes ran up and down his body. Your thighs squeezed together. You could feel your arousal already pooling between your legs.

He ran a hand through his hair. "How do ya' want it, hand or belt?"

You hesitated to answer at first.

"Uhmm, your hand." Your voice was quiet.

Logan smirked, noting how quickly your little attitude was already changing. "Alright, it'll be my hand, and we'll do ten spanks. Sound good?"

You nodded and bit down on your bottom lip.

"Use your words, baby." Logan got closer, invading your space. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, his grip firm, but still gentle. He could feel his cock already beginning to strain against the cold metal of his zipper.

"Sounds good." You spoke again quietly.

"Okay." He leaned down and gave the corner of your mouth a quick kiss. "Get up and lay over my lap. You remember what to say if you want this to stop. Yeah?"

"I say red." You jump down off the bed. Logan reluctantly releases your hips but moves back slightly to give you some space.

He sat down in the same spot you were sitting in. You stood there in front of him, your body bare for him. He took you all in and licked his lips. If you weren't being such a brat he'd fuck you instead. God, the things he'd do to you right now. He had to fight those urges. Those primal urges to pull you in his lap and drive his cock deep in your weeping cunt.

You wanted to apologize. You knew it was too little too late for that. No amount of apologizing would help you now. The thought of logan spanking you sent waves of arousal and fear through your body.

"Good girl." Logan praised. His deep, husky voice made your clit pulsate. He reached out, yanking you by the waist, and threw you over his lap.

You gasped as you were now laying across his thighs. His belt buckle digging into your side. Your feet dangling over the floor as you tried not to fall off him. He probably would like that, though. Seeing you fall and watching you get embarrassed.

"Lo, are you mad at me?" You turned to glance up at him over your shoulder.

His quirked an eyebrow up at you. "Mad? Don't ya' think it's a little too late to be askin' me that?" He sighed. "Yeah, I'm mad, but we'll discuss all of that later. Right now, I want ya' to count every spank I give your ass. Okay?"

You turned your head and looked down. You tried to keep your focus on a spot on the floor. It usually helped you deal with the pain and slight humiliation would feel. "Okay."

Logan rubbed his hand over the plush skin of your bottom. You heard him hum as you laid over his lap. Your ass reminded him of a ripe peach he wanted to sink his teeth into. Juicy, firm, soft all the things he liked.

"I hate doin' this. Punishing ya'. I'd much rather be balls deep inside ya' but you just had to hurt my feelings." Logan spoke from behind you. He wasn't really speaking to you rather than at you. He didn't care for your response or sorrys.

"Lo...I- I don't mean to." Your voice broke and your eyes blurred with tears.

You never thought how you were acting would actually hurt his feelings. Logan's never been good at expressing that before. Maybe your sudden mood swings were starting to really affect him. Even if it was your way of asking to be punished — or you were just not feeling like yourself and the sudden wave of sadness made you lash out.

Regardless, it wasn't fair to logan. You see that now. You always saw him as this invincible man where nothing could hurt him. Not even harsh words and the silent treatment. You were wrong. So very wrong.

"Start counting." He interrupted you. His hand, going back to connect with your ass with a harsh slap.

You whimpered, and tears fell from your eyes. "O-ne."

Logan rubbed over the spot he just spanked. You were already crying, and he's barely gotten started. He didn't give you much time to collect yourself before his hand was reconnecting in hard slap to your ass. He watches as the skin ripples from the impact. His cock growing harder watching your ass jiggle as you took your punishment. He had to bit his tongue and not make a comment on it, know how you'd you get embarrassed. Even if he'd love seeing you get that way.

"T-two." You cried out. Your tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor beneath you, creating small salty puddles.

Logan's hand reeled back again, spanking you over and over. He didn't slow down or go easy on you. Every swat felt like your ass all the way down to your thighs would go numb from the pain. You were a sobbing mess as you struggled to even count for him.

"Shh, shh baby, we're almost done." He soothed you and kissed your temple. "You're doing so good."

Your mind was in a haze now. You couldn't remember being upset. The only thing on your mind was logan and the stinging pain he was inflicting to your ass. His rough hands groping at your skin before delivering another harsh blow.

You could feel your juices running down your legs. You hoped logan wouldn't notice how turned on you also were getting. The more you cried and got it all out, the better you felt. As weird as it probably sounded to some. This made you feel at ease once it was all said and done.

Logan noticed you go silent. The only sound coming from your lips were soft cries.

"Do ya' know what number we're at now?" He rubbed down your back, avoiding your ass for now.

You shook your head. "N-no."

"We're at eight. almost done." Logan reassured, his hand slowly inching down your back and resting on the curve of your sore cheeks.

You took a few steady deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Repeating the action over and over again.

Logan observed the way you were trying to pull yourself together. He gave you a small smile before continuing on. He gave your ass a light little tap, signaling you he was about to start again. You braced yourself as your body hung over his lap. Your toes danced across the floor while you desperately tried to keep yourself perfectly balanced.

"Nine." You yelped a little louder. His hand came down again. The sounds that were made each time his palm connected to your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"....t-ten." Your voice was raspy, barely even above a whisper as you counted the final blow.

"There we go, baby. We're done. We're all done." Logan went right back into soothing you. He looked down towards your ass watching your body trembling. "You're so strong, ya' know that? So good."

You tried to catch your breath as you choked back another sob. Your face was tear stained, and your makeup ruined.

Logan rubbed up and down the back of your thighs as well. His hand sneaking in between them. He bit his lip as he noticed how wet you got during your punishment. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He ran a finger along your wet slit, teasing you. Your nails dig into his strong thighs.

"Mmm, you feel so soft." He purred above you.

Your pussy was drenched with your juices. Your body was still shaking from your punishment. Your ass felt like it was on fire. Logan moved his middle finger up and down along your slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open your sensitive lips. You turned your head to watch as logan admired your sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as your walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill you up.

All that attitude, sadness, and feelings of self-doubt of yours were fading away.

"Logan, please," you begged him. Your voice, still raspy. He did a double take at your disheveled appearance. Your eyes bloodshot with your mascara running, smudging your under eyes.

Logan felt so bad for making you cry like that. He felt even worse for not taking it easy on you when he was spanking you. Even if it helped you get over whatever it was you that bothered you. But he couldn't deny how hard it made him as well.

He didn't respond as he spread your lips further apart, letting the cold air of your bedroom hit your entrance. Your face heating up while logan fully exposes you. Your clit throbbing as it goes ignored. He takes his thumb and rubs the outer part of your opening, getting it nice and ready. You moan, and logan doesn't stop looking at you.

"Ya' have the tightest little pussy." He commented, feeling how your entrance wants to take in his thumb, but he doesn't push it in. Not yet.

Instead, he pulls it away, and you whine; a small pout forming on your face. You began squirming over his lap, his erection pressing right against your stomach. You can see just how feral he wants to be become. His pupils blown completely until out, you can't see the color anymore. His nostrils flared while smelling your arousal all in the room.

"This is how it's gonna be. I'll let ya' cum on my fingers. That's all ya' get tonight. Jus' my fingers. You don't deserve my dick. " His tone was strong and commanding as he told you how the rest of the night was going to go.

That's when you knew your punishment didn't just stop once the spanking was over with.

"Will you still help me get cleaned up afterward?" You felt a little disappointed and on the verge of crying again when he rejected you. Logan usually always fucked you after your punishment. This time it was so different.

"Baby, I'm always gonna take of ya." Logan reassured. Which almost made you feel better.

He finally slipped a finger inside you. Your walls instinctively squeeze around his thick digit. You cried out in pleasure as you squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbing and pressing firmly on that spongey spot on your walls. You arched your back and dug your nails into his skin through his jeans.

"Hmmphf.... more lo— I need more." You begged.

Your head felt dizzy from all the sensations you felt. Your ass was still in so much pain but logans attention to your pussy kept your mind off it. Normally, he would tease you longer. Make you beg until you were a complete wreck. He couldn't bring himself to do that tonight. He felt guilty for spanking you the way he did. But still wasn't going to give you his cock.

Logan gently pushed another finger inside you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of you slowly. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans under you. His fingers knuckle deep in your cunt as he trusted them inside you. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to your g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Your walls clenching up and your toes curling.

"You okay, baby? Logan checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

"Y-yes...m'okay keeping going" You stammered out, as you tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making your pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds you've ever heard. Your slick soaking his hand as he fucked you. Your legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over your clit. You could feel your orgasm building up. That coil in your lower belly tightening as logan fingered you hard and deep.

"F-fu- logan, I can't hold it." You warned him. Your moans were getting louder and more desperate.

"Aaah! god! I'm gonna-" You mewled while your cunt was being spread open. His long, thick fingers working in and out of you.

That only spurred him on until you were cuming all over his hands. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hold onto his thighs for dear life.

Logan didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of you while his other hand payed attention to your throbbing clit. He milked your pussy as you rode out your release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick. A string of your juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Logan hummed at the taste of you. "You're so sweet. " You wanted to hide your face. Your eyes glossy from your orgasm.

"Come on, on your knees." He patted your ass gently. You didn't move at first. Your body was too weak, and your mind was still too cloudy think.

He noticed your hesitation and figured out why. He placed his hands on your waist and moved you gently to the floor to sit back on your knees.

"Jus' because I'm not sticking my dick in you tonight doesn't mean I can't get off, too." He grunted and unbuckled his belt.

Logan unzipped his pants and his cock sprung free almost smacking you in the face. The head of his cock leaking precum. You lick your lips and immediately try to taste him. He grabbed your jaw firm but not enough to hurt you.

"Ah ah, and what do you think you're doing?" He smirked, taking his cock in his hand.

"I thought you'd want me to use my mouth." You looked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

"Ya' don't get to blow me either. Ya' get to watch me jerk myself off and cum all over that pretty face of yours." Logan let go of your jaw and stood up straight. His form towering over yours as you kneeled in front of him.

"Oh." You wiped your eyes. You felt rejected yet again, but honestly, you understand why. You were a bitch to him for the past week. It was only fair and definitely part of the punishment.

"If you're good. I might let you ride me tomorrow mornin'." He looked down at you, giving you a small smile. You know him telling you no was just as difficult.

Logans abs flexed as his hand slowly started stroking his cock. His thumb pushing down on his tip, smearing in his precum. He let out a loud hiss and groaned. You watched from your position. You shift in your spot as you feel yourself getting wetter. Logan was taking his time. He was making a show of it – wanting you to see what you're missing. His body glistened with sweat. His mouth parted as he muttered "fuck" under his breath.

His hand moved up and down, pumping himself above you. Your eyes were in awe at how beautiful he was. You watched how his abs flexed and his Adam's apple danced. You wanted to reach out and help him. You wanted to apologize with your mouth full of his cock. He wasn't going to let you do any of that.

"Ahh, goddammit. If you weren't such a brat, I'd have ya' split open right now." He grunted again. "Make ya call me sir with my dick in the back of your throat."

"You still can." You reminded him.

He laughed. "Nice try, but no. Only good girls get my dick. Ya' haven't been good."

You frowned and kept your hands in your lap. Your juices were dripping down your legs and little to the floor. You've never been more frustrated and turned on in your life. You watched logan stroking himself. His eyes half lidded, and his muscles flexed with every movement. His pace quickened and you could tell he was about to cum. He cupped his balls with his other hand, making his knees buckle slighlty. Your clit ached at the sight before you.

"Goddamn," he whispered to himself while his hand moved at a faster pace. "See what ya' do to me? How hard ya' make me?"

You watched in awe as your pussy ached more for him. You were on the verge of pouting but remembered what he told you. "Ya can ride me in the mornin" his words echoed in your ear. That promise was enough to keep you at bay and kneeling down before him like a good girl. His good girl. That's what you wanted to be again.

His chest was rising and falling faster. Logan gave himself a few more long strokes, and he was finishing all over your face. He growled harshly and ropes of cum shot out onto your mouth and chin. He was careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. Logan kept pumping himself, milking every single drop he had left in him. You went to move away, but the hand that was on his balls grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your face just millimeters away from his cock and heavy balls. His hand finally stilled.

All you could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. You waited until he came down from his high. His release had hit him hard, too, just as yours did. Logan had been pent up with so much frustration over these past couple of weeks because of you. You felt his hand letting go of your neck. You went to rub the sore spot where his fingers dug into your skin. He didn't speak to you yet. He was still trying to catch his breath after his release.

Logan dragged his hand down his face and looked you over once more. He gently took you by the upper arms and put you on your feet. Your legs felt wobbly, and the stinging pain on your ass returned. Logans eyes trailed up and down your body, focusing on your face.

You were a mess, cheeks all tear stained. Your makeup smudged and now his cum dripping down your chin. You were a beautiful sight. One logan wanted to admire forever. If he had his phone; he'd make this moment his lockscreen and jerk off to it when you weren't around.

Your tongue inched out to lick some of the cum off your lips. You loved the way he tasted and hated how he wouldn't let you have more. Logan felt his cock twitching again but chose to ignore it. He let out a shuddered breath and shook his head.

"Ya' alright? Was that too much?" He bent down, grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor. Logan carefully wipe off the mess on your face, starting with his cum.

"Not too much." You shook your head. "I'm fine." You tried to fix up your makeup, but it was really no use.

He leaned down and gave your forehead a sweet kiss.

"We need to get some aloe on your ass. It'll help sooth that burning feelin" Logan moved around the room as you stood in your spot. You wrapped your arms around your middle while you watched him hunt for the aloe and put his jeans back on.

Logan noticed how you were hugging around yourself. He cursed under his breath, fixing himself back in his pants. There was something still lingering in the air. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"C'mere baby." He took your arms from around you and pulled you to him in a warm embrace. You buried your face in his chest, taking in his scent. Logan could sense how you needed his comfort more than some lotion right now.

You two stood in eachothers arms for what felt like hours. He finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

"If ya' don't wanna talk about what's been bothering ya' I want pressure. Jus' know I'm all ears once you're ever ready to tell me"

You nodded and closed your eyes, not wanting him to let you go.

"Sometimes I don't know what's wrong." You whispered to him.

"And that's okay." He kissed the top of your head. "Let's take a bath together, and I'll cook ya' dinner."

"Are you gonna finish my bookshelf?" You moved your head away to meet his gentle gaze.

Logan chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. "Yeah, yeah, I'll finish that damn bookshelf."

The rest of your night was spent with you in logans arms after he helped get you all cleaned up. He got our your favorite sweatshirt and made you food. You sat on the couch watching him get frustrated with the instructions to your bookshelf that he had to remind you he could've just made you a better one. Logan did end up finishing it for you and joined you on the couch, pulling you into his lap where you both ended up falling asleep.

1K notes · View notes

ghoulphile · 7 months ago

Text

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!

feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.

Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.

It’d be easier if they were.

Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.

Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.

Then came the separation.

Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.

And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.

See, war’s something he understands.

But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?

How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?

When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?

He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.

Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.

The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.

Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.

Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.

But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.

See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.

Hell, millions used to scream his name.

Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”

While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.

It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.

Something’s gotta give.

After all, he’s only one man.

But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.

A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.

At first, he kept his distance.

Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.

Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.

Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.

Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.

Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.

So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?

Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?

Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?

What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.

“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”

Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.

“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”

Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"

“Mnhfmmmm.”

“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”

Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”

Shit.

“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”

Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.

Together they settle with a bounce of springs.

In the open space, you slide in.

The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.

“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”

“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”

“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”

Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.

You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.

“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”

Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.

“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”

“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”

Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.

“... Then pancakes it is.”

As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”

“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”

“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”

“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”

She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears.

Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.

“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.

“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”

The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.

After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.

“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”

The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.

A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.

Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.

“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”

Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.

The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.

Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.

When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.

You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.

Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.

Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.

After all, he’s not yours to touch.

Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”

Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”

Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood.

“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”

He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.

God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.

Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”

Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.

“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.

Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.

“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.

Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.

The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.

“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”

“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”

Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.

Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.

Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.

Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.

But here — with him — you shouldn’t.

Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.

When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”

“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”

Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”

The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.

He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”

You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.

Greedy.

Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.

However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog.

Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”

Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”

“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, that’s not what I --”

He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”

Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”

“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.

Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”

“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”

Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.

Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?

Hell, you even cook and clean!

Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.

Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.

How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.

If he wasn’t so captivating…

“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”

“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”

Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.

Waiting to see what you'll do.

Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.

Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.

Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.

He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.

“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”

With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”

The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.

“Woah! I--”

“Tell me something.”

Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.

“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”

The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”

You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”

“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.

The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”

He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.

Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.

“C’mon, be honest.”

With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.

“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”

“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”

There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”

In what world would you refuse?

The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.

He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.

Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.

“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”

Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.

Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.

You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.

He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.

"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."

Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”

"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."

part 2 dropping soon

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul smut

2K notes · View notes

tremendouscreationperson · 4 months ago

Text

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

Part 2

#logan howlett #logan 2017 #logan x reader #logan #james logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #xmen #mutant!reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3

1K notes · View notes