#sorry it took me so long but yay i finally changed it!

[clewis]

cleoslewis » clewis

URL change! I finally did it! Thank you so much to all the h2oes that helped me with this! Love the change already! 💜

[danidrabbles]

Cardinal

Pairing: Logan Howlett ("Worst" Wolverine) x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (for themes and smut).

Word count: 16.6k

Summary: At the edge of the world, someone from another keeps you from stepping off.

Tags/Warnings (Please, read the warnings!!): Post-Deadpool & Wolverine, female reader (female anatomy etc + 2 mentions of hair long enough to fall into your eyes), strangers-to-lovers, depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt and mentions thereof, addiction, drinking alcohol, drugs (mentioned not used), panic attacks, sobriety meetings, anxiety, recovery, co-dependency vibes, sprinkles of soulmateism, explicit smut (oral and unprotected PIV), happy ending (yay!!). If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Notes: Deadpool and Wolverine re-triggered my X-Men obsession and what started as a means to write some smut actually became this idea about two broken people who shouldn't even have met in the first place finding each other. There's a lot of me in this story, more than there's ever been I think. I'm sorry for this glimpse into my head, and I'm sorry if this isn't as Reader-insert as it should be, but... I'm not that sorry, you know. Huge thanks to @javier-pena , for not only reading this over and fixing so many embarrassing mistakes, but also for saying she'd read this even if it was 20k words and always believing in my abilities as a writer, even when I sometimes didn't.

If you want to read the smut as a standalone, you can! Just CTRL + F (or search in page) for 'Logan reaches for' and read away.

THE LOOKOUT

With closed eyes, you inhale the cool, December air, before looking down at your feet. Here, at the edge of the lookout, the grass has been trampled. You imagine friends taking bets on who dares get closest to the edge, lovers making memories, families taking pictures. It’s strangely soothing that maybe you’re not the first to stand here to do this. 

Far below your feet, the water laps at the rocks. The force of it depends on the weather and tonight it’s violent, with big splashes and crashing sounds. The wind tugs at your coat, pulling you towards the water as if to help you along, making you look up again as you hold your balance. In front of you, the line of the horizon is dark but visible – it would have been impossible to make out if the moon hadn’t been as bright as it is.

It’s like you’re looking at the edge of the world.

During the weeks that fall had made way for winter, you scoped the place out a couple times. The first time you stood at this cliff’s edge, the place it took you to mentally scared you so much that you got back into your car and broke down in tears. The next couple times, things became more and more serious, as your life crumbled around you, and your feelings numbed, and nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Something had crept in while you weren’t looking, settling somewhere behind your eyes and spreading out to make a home behind your ribs, slowly but surely changing you. And once you realized it, it was already too late. It had grown large, became jilted and jealous, like it wanted all of you. It pushed away everyone and everything you held dear, until it was just you and that… something.

Especially during the quiet of the night, the lookout became soothing, a strange sense of familiarity enveloping you each time you were here. It was addictive and pretty soon, it became a daily routine to visit. But lately it’s been losing its shine, your feelings here dulling and darkening too. You’re exhausted, fed up, tired of giving it more of you.

Today you want it to be your last time here. 

You’ve had countless hours to contemplate what it would be like, imagined – all but romanticised – how the cold water would paralyse your limbs if the impact wouldn't do the trick. You read somewhere that it’s apparently like falling asleep when the water finally fills your lungs. You’ll be gone, but the thing will be too.

The thought makes your eyes fill with tears, but not from fear. All you feel is relief, like it’s right, how it’s supposed to be. It makes you smile despite everything, and–

“Hey, stop!”

A voice behind you thunders through the silence and makes you shriek into the night, dirt toppling over the edge of the lookout below the shuffle of your foot. A string of curses follows, heavy footfalls behind you indicating that the intruder is approaching you.

“Fuck off!” you throw over your shoulder, your voice a roar with how it’s amplified by the wind. 

After, your throat closes up, fighting the angry tears over the fact that you can’t even fucking kill yourself in peace. Never have you seen anyone here at night, never. What you hate even more is how it breaks your momentum. The haze that was surrounding you is pierced, and your body’s baser instincts kick in. Adrenaline suddenly pumps through your veins, making your legs tremble, your heart hammer, your body scream for you to step back from where you’re standing. Your anger, however, has you nailed to the floor. 

You almost miss the much softer, “Hey,” as a man steps into your peripheral vision. You pretend like you don’t hear him, or see him – you simply pretend he isn’t there, focussing on getting back into your previous mindset. 

But then he takes his hands out of his pockets.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you warn, hating how your voice comes out trembling – weak.

“Easy.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

You stand there together for what feels like hours. You will yourself to not let it affect you, setting your jaw to keep your teeth from clattering on account of the cold, allow the wind to blow your hair into your eyes without brushing it away. Even when it begins to rain, you don’t move, don’t blink even once more than you need to. From the corner of your eye you watch the man shove his hands back in the pockets of the brown leather jacket he’s wearing, and you quietly celebrate that your surroundings are fazing him more than they are you.

“You know–” he begins.

“I’m not really looking for a conversation.”

“Me neither,” he immediately counters, suddenly impatient, “so I’ll get right to it: You planning on jumping? Because if you think the water’s gonna be nice to you, you’ve got that wrong. You’ll end up in there feeling everything, that fall isn’t gonna do shit.”

Having expected a gentle approach, his bluntness and his tone knock the wind out of you. You cock your jaw, the shame creeping up your body the first bit of warmth you’ve felt in a while. Your cold fingers ball to fists as you will yourself not to care. Yes, his words and the way he's shatteríng your expectations with them sting, but you don’t even know this guy–

“And there’s nothing fuckin’ peaceful about it, it’s just panic. Right before you go too far…” He raises a fist and holds it against the center of his chest, “...there’s this burning right here that’s hell.”

“And what makes you such an expert?” you finally spit out.

“Died like that a couple times,” he says without waiting a beat.

The casual statement of something so bizarre beats your resolve before you know it, your head turning in his direction. “‘A couple times’?”

“I, uh…” You watch him hesitate, the moonlight illuminating the tick of his jaw, the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way his chest falls as he sighs, “Let’s just say I can’t die.”

Before you can stop yourself, you snort at that. “That must fucking suck.”

He barks out a laugh, “Got that right.” It startles you when his head suddenly turns to you, when he looks you in the eye for the first time. “But trust me, being down there isn’t much better.”

There’s something in the way he looks at you that makes you waver. You can’t really place it, or decipher why it makes you want to open up to him. Maybe it’s because you’re freezing and it’s your body betraying you, tricking you into moving so you can generate some warmth, moving your lips to keep them from going blue. Or maybe it’s simply because he’s a stranger and it’s so much easier to be honest when there are no consequences.

“Things just feel so…,” you begin, voice shaky. Every possible way to end the sentence crosses your mind, seemingly all wrong, before you settle on what’s closest to how you feel, “endless.”

To your relief, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tell you to give it time that it will get better, or any of the other bullshit you’ve heard from all the other people that had been in your life and left a long time ago. You do find something else in the shift in his eyes, something you haven’t encountered before.

Understanding.

It might be worse. If anything, it’s overwhelming, making your eyes dart away from his as you sniff. 

The wind still tugs at you, the waves still hit the rocks, but your moment seems to have passed. It’s a sobering conclusion, a twisted version of wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe it was him who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, the outcome is the same.

You take a step back, and another, but it takes considerable effort; you hadn’t taken your numb legs into consideration. You stumble, falling back on the dewy, cold grass, not quick enough to catch yourself on your hands. With a groan, you move to sit upright.

“Shit. Hey, you still with me?” The stranger kneels next to you, fingers lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “Jesus, you’re fucking freezing.”

“No s-sh-hit,” you retort.

He sighs, offering you a hand so he can pull you up. “C’mon, let's get you warmed up.”

– – – – –

Logan.

That’s his name. 

It’s how he introduced himself, anyway, after he suggested you follow him. To his credit, he did offer to drive you, but you didn’t want to leave your car in the parking lot of the lookout. Logan waited 15 minutes for you while you put the blowers on the highest, warmest setting and waited for the feeling to return to your limbs. After, his brown truck led the way here – here being some hole in the wall, 24 hour diner. You could have not followed, but the drive was kind of mesmerizing; the night seemed darker than usual, and Logan’s tail lights served as a lighthouse.

Outside, the diner is all Christmas lights and flashing signs, but the interior is like something straight out of Twin Peaks; booths to the left, red barstools to the right, a girl that looks too pretty and too young to be here standing behind the counter. There were two other patrons you spotted along the way as Logan led you to one of the back booths. Once seated, Logan studied the pamphlets–or pretended to, more like, because as soon as the waitress came up he ordered two whiskeys and nothing else.

Between then and now, as you nursed your drink sip by careful sip, you hadn’t learned much more about him other than that he could knock back a glass of whiskey like he got paid to do so. And in truth, you like it this way; preferring silent company, the droning of the machinery behind the counter and the quiet hum of a song on the jukebox next to the entrance. The white noise helps to distract from the white noise in your head. Settling back into the leather cushions of the booth, you let some warmth seep back into your body. Opposite you, Logan does the same. 

Some moments after you finish your drink, one of the waitresses walks up to your booth to ask you about a refill, like she’s asked Logan twice now. You’re handing her the glass when Logan says, “She’s had enough.”

Your head whips from her to him. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t say anything, and from the corner of your eye, you see the girl leave. With your glass. Logan’s is on his lips, his eyes observing you over the rim, looking at you like he– Dammit. You sigh deeply, a sense of anger filling you. You don’t need this, least of all from him. When you stand from the booth, those eyes follow you, making you voice your observations,

“Quit pitying me, Logan.”

“I’m not,” he says before taking another sip. “You still have to drive.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “And you don’t?”

Logan shrugs. “It’s different for me.”

Anger is still prevalent in your voice when you ask, “Well, let me guess, it’s another case of ‘I died like that a couple times’?” 

He hums.

“And how does that work?”

“Regenerative ability,” he sighs. Another sip before he elaborates, “X-Gene.” 

The admission makes you plop back down in your seat. Well, that explains things – he’s a mutant. You’re not familiar with that world, but you know enough to know it meant that. It isn’t like you couldn’t have deduced it before, but truthfully, you kind of thought he was bullshiting you as part of some tactic. Now, his actions and words make more sense: He really knows what it’s like to... That’s why he had that look on his face. Suddenly, you see him in a different light–

“Now who’s pitying who, hmm?” Logan asks, giving you a thin-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he sets his glass down on the table.

“I’m not, I’m just… processing. So this...” you lift his glass, swirl the contents around, “...doesn’t even affect you?”

“It does. For a few seconds.” He plucks the glass back from your hand, and throws the whiskey back with one gulp. His pupils dilate, pushing the hazel of his irises out until his eyes are almost black for a second, two… before going back to normal. “But if I chugged the bottle, I’d pass out.”

“Well, so would I,” you say with a chuckle. “So maybe we’re not that different after all.”

Just as the corner of his mouth lifts, your smile falls, because… it isn’t true; you’re very different. You’re pretty sure you don’t have what it takes to do what he did tonight. To care enough to do it. To sit with a stranger and hear them bitch and moan about being denied a drink. A feeling creeps up on you, sticky and uncomfortable, like you’ve overstayed your welcome—burdened him.

“I should head home,” you say, standing again.

Lightning fast, Logan’s hand shoots out to close around your wrist. “That really where you’re going?”

“Yes,” you reply. When you pull your hand back, he doesn’t let up. You fish your car key out of your pocket with your free hand, voice tighter when you say, “Let me go.”

“Just promise me something,” he says, eyes as dark as they’d been earlier, yet his drink has gone untouched since. “Don’t go back there again.”

“Not making promises I can’t keep,” you say, giving him a wry smile. “To strangers, but least of all to myself.”

He sighs, and lets you pull yourself from his hold.

THE CRAVING

New Years comes and goes, and you quickly discover that it was foolish superstition to think that it might change how you feel.

You find yourself in some club, a drink in each hand. You hate to admit it, but Logan’s words scared you out of your original idea and the only time you can bear to think of how to move on from it is when alcohol soothes the embarrassing grief of your shattered, macabre fantasy. It’s not a good way to deal with things, but it works.

There’s a part of you that welcomes feeling anything at all, but that… something inside you is busy trying to squash it. 

It’s getting somewhere, because you have no idea how much you’ve already had to drink, but you’re buzzing pleasantly. Adding to it, you knock both drinks back, slamming the glasses on the bar before spinning around and facing the crowd of dancing bodies. The music sucks, the dance floor is cramped, you’re tired… The truth is that you’re too old for this, but it’s easy to escape here, surrounded by strangers. You clumsily drag the back of your hand over your wet mouth, push your sweaty hair from your eyes, and join them.

The past couple weeks, you found yourself craving something. Contact. And here is where you can get your fill; a hand on your waist, lips on your ear, the music too loud and yourself too drunk to even comprehend what’s being said, but never more. You want them to get close, but never too close.

After some time – could be an hour, could be 10 minutes – you make your way to the bathroom. It’s quieter here, the dulled thump of the music making the time you spend there feel slow and syrupy. 

When you exit the stall, you bump into someone.

It’s a man. The dark hood over his head obscures his eyes, but you can’t help but think he’s looking right at you when a bright, almost unnatural grin appears on his face. It draws you in like a magnet, more so when he says, “Need something to take the edge off?” 

Curiously, you watch as he opens his palm, long fingers unfurling slowly until they reveal a small plastic bag in his hand. 

“First time’s on the house.”

You have no idea what it is exactly, but your eyes widen. This is new territory for you, and all the possibilities it opens up are suddenly invading your mind. As if on auto-pilot, you reach for the place where you keep your money, the sound of the door opening completely lost on you.

A hand closes around your bicep, pulling you aside with a quick yank of an arm.

“She isn’t interested, pal.” 

It’s another man, who effortlessly tucks you half behind him. Before you can protest beyond an indignant huff, there’s a sound, like a sword being unsheathed, and you catch a flash of red, and of knives. Frowning, you try to get a better look, but your view is obscured by the man’s shoulder. The hooded man seems undeterred, regarding the weapons with the same sickening grin, before leaving the bathroom, muttering something that you don’t understand on the way out. The sword sound returns, the man twists around, and–

“Logan?” you slur in disbelief. 

Logan doesn’t reply, instead takes hold of your arm again, making you follow him out of the bathroom. There he stops the two of you to murmur something to a woman wearing the same clothes as him, before tugging you along again. You’re stumbling after him on account of his pace and the iron grip he has on you as he leads you to the back door. He pushes it open with enough force to make the hinges creak, a gust of wind blowing in your face. It’s a contrast to go from the crowded, sweaty club to the silent, cold back-alley where tall brick walls and employee cars cage you in. You shake your arm and Logan’s grip loosens – another and he lets you go.

“How did you even find–” You cut yourself off, eyes widening, “Oh, my god, are you following me?”

Logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “Oh, please, do you think I have time to follow you around all day?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? You and your fucking…,” you gesture wildly into the air at him, “savior complex.”

“I work here,” he growls. When you give him a look, he adds, “It’s temporary. ‘Sides, me and my savior complex are the reason that creep isn’t selling god knows what to you in that bathroom right now!” His voice is a roar, echoing off the walls around you.

“Maybe I wanted that creep to sell god knows what to me in that bathroom,” you say, doing a poor impression of his voice, before turning and walking away from him.

Logan sighs. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.”

“And then what, huh?”

“I don’t fucking know, Logan,” you say, twisting around to face him again, arms spread out by your side. “Figure out a new way out of this.”

“Yeah? Third time’s the charm?”

“Why do you even care, huh? You don’t even know me,” you say. Almost immediately, you let out a bitter laugh as your own words hit your ears, a sad realization dawning on you. “But I guess that makes two of us.”

It’s not like you expected him to, but he doesn’t answer.

“You know I used to like myself? I used to smile, I used to have friends, I used to be more sober than drunk. But this feeling, it takes… everything.” You raise a fist, hold it to the center of your chest. “It takes everything I love, pushes away everyone I love, including myself. It eats me up, and wants more and more, until I’m something I’m not and until I’m so far away from that version of myself, my old self, that it feels easier to just fucking–” you pause with a wet gasp for air.

“Destroy yourself,” Logan finishes for you.

Your chest heaves, an unshed tear clings to your lash line. “Exactly.”

He takes a step closer to you. “Let me take you home,” he says, voice gentle. 

You should hate the implications of that gentleness, but you don’t. In your drunk state of mind, it’s easier to admit it’s nice that someone understands, that someone’s there to stop you from going too far… 

Tomorrow, when some of your pragmatism returns, you’ll deny this embarrassing thought ever occurred; if relying on other people worked, it would have worked a long time ago, and you wouldn’t be standing here with him. If you’re lucky, you might even forget this entirely, and wake up with a hangover that you’ll enjoy a little too much because it feels like a punishment–

“What about your job?” you ask with a sniff.

Logan’s palm finds the space between your shoulder blades with a gentle push, the warmth of it seeping in through your clothes, and he leads you to his truck. “They’ll manage without me.”

– – – – –

When you wake, your world is tilted sideways, a blanket is pulled up to your chin and there's a pillow under your head. They’re not your own; the blanket is itchy and the pillow’s too small. When you try to move your legs, they stick uncomfortably to the material below them, and you realize you’re on a leather couch. You squint at the light that comes in from a window across from you–

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

The voice startles you, eyes shifting to focus on the source: A man lying on his front on the floor, chin in his hands as he kicks his feet back and forth in the air. 

“Wish I could say it’s a pleasure, but it hasn’t been very pleasurable. You’ve been barfing up the place since the moment you stepped inside. Kept poor Al up all night. Her ears are sensitive,” he adds with a whisper. “But don’t worry, she left about an hour ago.”

“Who are you?” you slur, blinking against the light.

“Logan.” He sighs when you frown. “I know, not how you remember. This is what I look like during the day; blessed with incredible good looks at night and, well,” he gestures at his face that’s covered in scars, "this, during the day. Bit of a reverse Princess Fiona situation–”

“Cut it out, Wade,” comes the sharp protest from next to you. With considerable effort, you turn your head and see the actual Logan, slumped back in a recliner next to the couch, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes while motioning for the other man to go.

“I’ll let you two talk.” Wade winks.

Logan stands when Wade does, walking from your field of view. Your head is scrambling to catch up, trying to piece together what happened last night, but only coming up with bits and pieces.

“How are you feeling?” Logan asks as he makes his way back to you, handing you a glass of water.

You flinch when the front door closes behind Wade with a bang, before taking the glass from Logan and taking a few thankful sips. “Like shit.”

“Yeah,” is all he says as he sits back down.

“What–”

“You fell asleep in the car. Didn’t know where to take you, figured the couch was the safest place.”

“Oh…,” you say, voice small. 

You try not to think about being so wasted that you had to be carried out of Logan’s car, or about what Wade said earlier about the things that happened as soon as you stepped inside the apartment. During your silence, Logan’s fingers fiddle with the armrest, before his hand balls into a fist, and it unlocks something in your hazy memory.

“I have the weirdest memory of you having… a sword?”

You watch as Logan’s lips purse in amusement. His tongue rolls around in his mouth, seemingly contemplating something, before saying, “You probably saw these.” He holds up his fist, flexing his forearm before three blades shoot from between his knuckles like claws, accompanied by a shing!

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you startle, spilling some water on your blanket. Your head spins with your hangover and the bizarity of the situation. If it didn’t sound so much like how it did in your memory, you might think you were still drunk. 

There’s so many things you want to ask, your intrigue almost winning out over your hangover until the sharp start of a headache gives you pause. Instead, you take another sip of water before rubbing your temple.

“It’s a story for another time,” Logan says, like he can read your mind, and you want to ask him that, too. His claws retreat, the cuts they leave between his knuckles immediately smoothing over until they’re gone. “I gotta go check if I still have a job.”

The words make you feel warm all over, the memory of your back-alley conversation coming back in full force. The thought of the things you admitted to him and that you put him in the position that he had to risk his job for you make you feel even warmer, your gaze no doubt laced with embarrassment and worry when you look at him.

“‘S not your fault,” Logan assures, standing and fishing his car key from the pocket of his jeans. “You don’t have to rush but um, make sure you close the door behind you on the way out. Gets jammed sometimes.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, watching as he makes his way to the front door. 

He takes a final glance at you over his shoulder, then leaves, accompanied by a bang.

THE PUZZLE

It takes you a little over a week to muster up the courage to go back. Admittedly, your courage is aided by another, foreign feeling. You don’t have a name for it yet, or maybe you’re afraid to call it what it is, but somewhere along the week, you became consumed with the thought that feeling like you did wasn’t all there was. That there is something beyond this. 

Perhaps foreign wasn’t the right way to describe it, because it is something you’ve felt before – it’s just been long dormant. The last time, it lasted about a month before it all came crashing down, and you swore you wouldn’t fall for it again, but you can’t help it. The feeling’s too sweet, and the idea that there’s still some baser instinct willing you to keep fighting for yourself makes you feel like the sun is shining on you. 

So yeah, maybe you’re just having one of your good weeks, where the thing sleeps – quiet while its presence still simmers. But you figured now’s your chance to take advantage of its unguarded moment.

Sneaking into the building is surprisingly easy. It helps that it isn’t anything fancy. You wanted to forego the humiliation of ringing the bell and him not letting you in, but standing in front of the door now, panting after climbing three flights of stairs, you don’t know if this is much better. 

Just when you’re about to knock, the door swings open. In the opening, Logan has one arm in his jacket, head twisted to watch the other that’s caught halfway in the sleeve. It takes him almost bumping into you to realize your presence. “Shit, sorry.” He steadies himself with a hand on your arm, the touch leaving you as fast as it appeared.

“Hi,” you breathe, taking a step back to give him a little more space.

He nods in greeting. “Brings you here?”

It takes you a moment, caught off guard by him skipping over pleasantries and cutting right to the chase, despite your best intentions; it’s not that he’s ever been any different in his interactions with you.

“I came by because I, um, owe you an apology, for my behavior at your workplace and for, you know…,” you trail off, gesturing at the door.

“Barfing up the place!” comes a shout from inside the apartment. 

Logan’s eyes close with a sigh, before he steps into the hallway with you and closes the door with a bang. 

“That,” you finish sheepishly. “I’m really sorry.”

He nods in acknowledgement.

“I also wanted to ask, um, if you want to come with me to get a coffee. To make it up to you.”

Logan just looks at you, the leather of his jacket creaking as he crosses his thick arms in front of his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly. You hate how he somehow can see right through you, how he makes you elaborate, and honest.

“I want to quit drinking,” you say, fiddling with the sleeve of your coat. “It doesn’t make me better, and when I don’t do it I finally feel a little… normal. Maybe coffee’s technically just as bad, but it’s the only thing that’s currently acting like… like a reverse gateway drink? And I feel like you’re the only person I know that might get that feeling of–”

“I do,” Logan cuts in, voice softer than before – assuring. His arms drop from where they’re crossed and he starts making his way to the stairs. “Let’s go.”

– – – – –

You don’t know this coffee place, and from the way he looks around and shifts around in a chair that might be a bit too small for him, neither does Logan. Main reason you picked it is because the booths remind you a little too much of a bar – and you like the tall windows. The coffee’s pretty decent.

“Did they fire you?” you ask, picking at a loose corner of one of the laminated menus before setting it back in its holder.

“Boss commended me for helping a customer, but not so much for leaving before my shift ended,” Logan replies. “Got off with a warning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Said that already, and I accepted,” he says. When he takes a sip of the coffee, he winces. “No need to worry about it anymore, okay? I would do it again.”

You nod, folding your hands around the warm cup in front of you.

“But, um, Wade hasn’t shut up about… the incident.” There’s a different tone to his voice, like he’s trying to lighten the mood. “His words.”

“You know, I kind of get the feeling that Wade doesn’t shut up about a lot of things.” It comes out a little meaner than you intend, but it makes Logan laugh and finally slump back in his chair a little. 

“You’re a quick study.”

Offering him a short smile in return, you continue with the other real reason you came to see him, before you chicken out. “I also stopped by because I wanted to, uh… because I realized I never really… I never… I never thanked you, for um… And–”

With a shake of his head, Logan sits upright. “Y’don’t–”

To your horror, your eyes brim with tears, “Logan, I’m supposed to be dead–”

“So am I,” he counters. He lets the words hang between the two of you for a moment, until you look at him, before he continues, “I’ve been where you are. Past it, even.”

You don’t know what to say to that, if the lump in your throat will even permit you to speak, but it’s impossible to look away from him. Logan’s gaze is piercing, frown ever present, but it’s not from anger. Instead, it’s like he’s searching for something, the right thing, to say. The silence doesn’t bother you; if anything, it makes his words seem more genuine when he does speak,

“I had someone who was annoying enough to not give up on me when I could really use it. If getting a coffee with you that’s, frankly…,” he makes a face as he pauses, “a horrible excuse for a coffee, helps… I can do that. I want to do that.”

The corner of your mouth lifts as you blink away your tears. “Was it Wade?”

Logan lets out a chuckle, and it’s honest – fond. “Yeah.”

“Figured,” you say. “How did you meet him?”

Across from you, Logan stills. You swallow thickly, adjusting yourself in your chair. It’s an innocent question, but maybe it isn’t something he’d like to revisit right now. Logan’s mug squeaks when he grips it tighter, and he looks at you with something like defeat– 

It makes you deflate. This must be what you looked like the night you met…

There’s no way to have prepared for what he tells you next: That he came from another timeline about three months ago, that he and Wade saved this one from being destroyed and almost got killed in the process, that he has nothing to go back to after the death of his team, so he stayed here. 

There’s hesitation in it, like he isn’t telling you the whole story, though you don’t comment on it. He doesn’t owe you anything and you’re too busy putting all the pieces in the Logan-shaped puzzle in your mind together; his words and actions towards you are starting to make more and more sense.

“It’s a very brave thing the two of you did,” you say when he’s finished.

“Hmm, it was all Wade,” Logan muses. “He did it all for the people he cares about.”

“I’m sure you would have done the same if you were in his place.”

At that, he lets out a dry laugh with absolutely no joy behind it. “Do me a favor, don’t put me on a pedestal.”

You frown, but before you can comment, he stands. A knot forms in your stomach, worried you’ve offended him, but he clears up the uncertainty immediately.

“I gotta go but um, Wade’s friends–,” he stops himself, correcting, “our friends are coming over to watch a movie, next week, 7:30. I have no idea what crap they’re going to be watching but… it’s nice. It’ll be nice to be around good people.” Logan doesn’t wait for your answer, simply takes his wallet from his pocket and leaves enough money to cover the bill.

“Wait, no, I invited you,” you protest. “I should–”

“You can pay next time.” 

When you nod, he says his goodbyes with a jerk of his head and makes his way to the door.

– – – – –

You see Logan two more times for coffee that week. He never lets you pay.

THE PANTRY

“–but it’s the best one!” Wade protests, DVD in hand.

“They fly a car into space, Wade,” Laura sighs.

“Launched off a jet,” he corrects. Like it helps.

You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, hiding the smile that appears at everyone’s babbling. Unbeknownst to you, you had found yourself invited to a double feature night, with Wade as the self proclaimed DVDJ. The credits had barely started rolling on A Good Day To Die Hard, or Wade had another DVD at the ready. It was met with the same amount of enthusiasm as when he presented the first.

It hadn’t been easy to make yourself go to this tonight. On your way, you’d thought of turning around at almost every step. Of course, that was all before you knew it would be this fun, and that you’d be relieved you hadn’t canceled last minute. Even meeting everyone hadn’t been as bad as you feared. 

There’s Peter, Wade’s friend. Ellie, another one of Wade’s friends. Yukio, Ellie’s girlfriend. Laura, Logan’s daughter. Mary Puppins, Wade’s small, disgusting but adorable dog, who had greeted you with equal amounts saliva and enthusiasm, before falling asleep next to the TV, completely unbothered by the commotion. Unlike Althea, Logan and Wade’s blind roommate, who had taken one listen to the gaggle of voices and left. The elusive Vanessa, Wade’s ex-but-we-might-get-back-together you heard about a couple times, wasn’t there.

Logan had been right, it was nice to be surrounded by good people. Especially good people who were… unconventional. It made joining them less complicated, less performative, and as the evening progressed it made you a participant instead of a silent observer. Wade even called you, “good for the group dynamic,” and it made you beam with pride.

“Don’t they have like, rockets attached to the car?” Ellie questions, to which Yukio’s eyebrows knit together.

“Exactly!” Wade exclaims, mistaking her confusion for enthusiasm. “Citizen Kane wishes.”

There’s more grumbling from everyone when Wade pops the DVD into the player, and he grumbles something back about how Logan would back him up if he wasn’t in the bathroom because he, quote unquote, goes way back with some of these dudes.

You’re pretty sure he’s the only one who knows what he’s even talking about.

An empty bowl of popcorn rests in your lap, and as you put it on the table, you notice how sticky and greasy your fingers and palms are. When the opening credits begin to roll, you get up to wash your hands, assuring Wade he doesn’t need to pause the movie before you go.

The apartment’s small, so it isn’t far to the kitchen, but it’s nice to stretch your legs. You can still hear the sounds from movie night; tell-tale action movie music, comments of disbelief and Wade shutting them down. They’re more faint, though, more so when you turn the tap on and wash your hands.

Right as you’re finished, you hear a dull thud. You turn the water off, head tilted and at attention while you dry your hands. There’s another sound, like a muffled groan. It’s coming from the pantry, you realize, noting that the door is slightly ajar. There’s a shing! sound followed by a distressed grunt, and before you know it you’re walking over, wrapping your fingers around the door to pull it open–

You’re not sure what it was you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Logan’s sitting on the floor, uncharacteristically small, curled up against one of the walls. His chest is heaving, shoulders all but going up to his ears with how he’s trying to draw in breaths. Next to him, his fist is balled against the hardwood, claws buried in the floor.

Fuck.

Dropping to your knees, you wedge yourself between his. “It’s okay, you’re having a panic attack,” you explain, your hands landing on his shoulders with a light shake. “You need to breathe. I’ll help you, just look at me.”

Logan’s head stays tipped down, a deep, rattling breath sailing from his mouth as he curls further in on himself.

“Hey!” you say sharply, cupping his jaw with two hands and tilting his face up, “Look at me.” 

Logan’s eyes are wet when they meet yours, moving frantically as they search your face, tears spilling over when he blinks. Something changes in his gaze, like he finally sees it’s you, and his bottom lip begins to tremble. His hand lifts from where it’s buried in the floor, clutching onto your wrist like a lifeline.

“Breathe,” you instruct, trying not to flinch at the sharp claws in front of you. He doesn’t catch on immediately, so you overdo the purse of your lips when you blow out a breath before exaggerating an inhale through your nose, showing him what to do. It starts off shaky, a fresh set of tears falling from Logan’s eyes as he does as you instruct, but after a couple of times you find a rhythm together. The silver between his knuckles slowly disappears. “There you go, good job. Keep going.”

You sit like that, until the wild shift of his eyes stops, his pulse steadies beneath your fingertips, and eventually his eyes close with a deep exhale. His grip on you loosens and you take it as your cue to let go of him, slumping back against the wall opposite him with a sigh of relief. The both of you catch your breath, sitting together in silence until Logan breaks it.

“Came outta nowhere… suddenly I was back there… letting them down.”

“It caught you off guard, it happens–”

“I let them get killed,” he says, voice raw. “They were like– They were my family, they trusted me to be there for them and I… I was too caught up in my own bullshit. I should have been with them, I should be dead with them.”

Logan’s tears still come, but the words almost sound reverent; as if saying them out loud just to punish himself with his own shortcomings is a balm. He’s talking about his team from there, you realize, and something clicks. All this time, you thought this was about him being unable to die due to his mutation, but it’s more than that. It’s shame, remorse, grief, survivor’s guilt, all wrapped into one.

It’s the final piece of your mind puzzle that makes his picture appear.

“How– How can I ever atone for that?” he asks. “How can I ever–”

“Logan, you can't change your past,” you interrupt carefully. “You made your choices and they made theirs, and you honored them by– by…stepping up to the task, by doing what you did with Wade.”

“What if it wasn’t enough?”

“What if it was?” you counter. Your hand finds his knee with a squeeze, before adding, “You did what they would have done. And now you… you need to allow yourself to honor their memory without feeling like you have to destroy yourself to do it. You deserve that.”

Logan blinks at you, eyes still glossy. He looks devastated yet calmer than before, like the emotion is still there, but displaced. For a good while, you sit with him like that while his sniffles lessen and his breathing returns to normal… until there’s a loud explosion coming from the living room. It’s followed by cheers and hollers, and you’re both suddenly reminded of where you are. 

“C’mon,” you say, patting Logan’s knee before using it as leverage to haul yourself up with a groan. You give him room by holding the door open for him. “Better get back before we miss the good stuff.”

Still on the floor, Logan exhales heavily. “Think this was the good stuff.”

– – – – –

Three weeks later, on your way to your third movie night, you catch Wade and Vanessa making out in the building hallway. 

It stops you dead in your tracks and makes for an awkward meeting with Wade’s mystery woman, who is beautiful but very direct when she asks you what the fuck you’re staring at. Wade certainly has a type when it comes to the company he keeps… He quickly shushes the situation, introducing the two of you, and it immediately makes Vanessa’s expression twist into recognition. 

“Nice to meet you,” she says, followed by an apologetic smile. 

You respond in kind. 

When Wade tugs at her jacket impatiently, they brush past you and make their way to the exit. “See you around!” she throws over her shoulder.

A grin forms on your lips, realizing what you just witnessed, and you race up the stairs. With Wade gone, you’re not sure if there will be a movie, but at least you have gossip to share with your friends.

THE MEETING

April flies by, rolls into May, and thing’s are… okay.

With some help, you find a therapist. It’s good, she’s good, but it’s difficult to be confronted with things that are painful, week after week, and to keep reminding yourself it’s all part of the process you’re going through.

Last week, after a particularly difficult session, you’d left her office being auto-piloted by dark feelings, like they knew exactly when to strike. You had turned corners and crossed streets, wandering as you stewed on everything you’d discussed –  like your mind was playing a constant loop of your most painful moments. It was a small miracle you had heard your phone, and that you had the presence of mind to thumb the green button.

You’d answered without saying a word.

“Got any plans?” Logan had asked on the other side of the line.

“No,” you’d replied, coming back to yourself a little bit at the sound of his voice.

“Al’s making her meatballs – she and Wade can’t agree on if they’re famous or infamous. Thought you might like to come. If it tastes like shit, we’ll order in.”

You’d hummed, managing to ask, “What time?”

It had stayed quiet on the other end, and that’s how you’d known he was onto you, could picture the pinch of his brows, his lips forming a thin line. For the first time, you welcomed it—wanted so badly to reach through the phone, shake his shoulders, ask for his help and accept it, like he had done with you weeks ago. 

“Sounds to me like now might be good.”

“Yeah,” you had agreed, the constricting tightness in your chest easing up. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” You’d released a shuddering breath, ear still pressed to the phone as you took in your surroundings before you auto-piloted yourself to a different destination. 

“Logan?”

“Still here.”

“Thank you for calling.”

“‘course. Get here soon, I’ll stay on the phone.”

The afternoon had ended with Logan and yourself allowing Althea to boss you around in the small apartment’s kitchen, rolling meatballs, sharing stories — Althea’s recollection of something that happened to her in her 20s that involved her stealing a police horse while wearing nothing but a thong, made you cry from laughing.

The meatballs were the best you ever had, though you couldn’t be sure if they actually were, or if it was just the taste of the moment that was better than anything had been that day. 

Sometime after dinner, Logan had nudged your shoulder to show you a little plastic chip. He flashed it at you long enough that you could read the words one month, before he pocketed it again. Then he suggested you come with him next week. 

“I thought it was bullshit too, but it helps,” he’d explained. “Figured I couldn’t continue to drink whatever that stuff is you call coffee to… avoid my problems.”

You contemplated his suggestion. Things were going well for you in that regard, but your therapist had also recommended you go to one of these things, even if it was just for the community aspect of it. It just made it so… official. Your problems, but most of all, your recovery. You weren’t good at keeping promises to yourself, and this felt like a big commitment. Not to mention the speeches and other people’s problems...

But as Logan told you more about it, the location, how it had been for him, you sensed something else between the lines: He wasn’t just asking for you, he was also asking for himself. Maybe… this was his way of telling you he needed some support. 

That’s how you find yourself inside a high school gymnasium a week later. It’s as gloomy as you expected. Slick floors, gray fold-out chairs set in neat rows, buzzing lights in a high ceiling, and a slightly raised podium with a whiteboard that reads a welcome message in capital letters. 

Unsure of what to do, you follow Logan as he weaves through the crowd to find a seat. As you do, it strikes you that there’s a pretty even distribution of people, with many genders, ages and lifestyles represented. Eventually you take a seat; not quite in the back, but definitely not in the front. 

The whole thing goes by in a blur, but where you expected to be overwhelmed, you feel… connected. Here you are, surrounded by people with different backgrounds, different lives, but all their stories have something you can relate to. Where you thought addiction was the common denominator, it’s actually the desire to turn your lives around that unites you the most.

“Before we end the night I want to circle back to last week, when we spoke about goals, or things we want to work towards,” says the woman leading the meeting – you’re ashamed to admit you already forgot her name. “Does anyone want to share something about that?”

It takes a lot to hide your surprise when Logan raises his hand. 

“Logan! Come on up!” She sounds as surprised as you feel, beckoning him to her.

The plastic chair he sits on creaks when he stands and his boots squeak against the shiny floor as he does as she asks. He looks so out of place on a podium; both larger than life behind the lectern and lost to the space of the stage. He clears his throat as he retrieves a paper from his pocket and unfolds it while his eyes scan the room until they land on yours. You give him a little nod of encouragement, and it kicks him into gear.

“Not good at this stuff, so I’m going to keep it brief,” he starts. 

It earns him a chuckle or two from the other attendees, and you can tell he doesn’t expect it when he looks up from his paper. Your hands clasp together with nerves as you watch him divide his weight from one leg to another, before focussing his gaze back down.

“My life has changed a lot over the past few months. For the first time in a long time, it’s not all bad. Coming here has been good. I’m starting to feel more like I did before–” 

He stops his monotonous droning with a frustrated sigh, stuffing the piece of paper in his pocket and sounding considerably more lively after. 

“I have people I care about again, and um, it scares me. ‘Cause I don’t want to let them down, and every day I feel like I will because of all of my… past shit.” He pauses and swallows hard before he continues, “They show me so much kindness and understanding, that… that even though it’s fucking hard, I want to be able to see myself the way they see me. And allow them to care about me without feeling like I… have to earn it all the time, without destroying myself to do it.” 

You exhale for what feels like the first time in an eternity.

“So, that’s what I’m currently working on.” Logan sighs. “That’s it. Thank you.”

A small applause follows, and you quickly unclasp your hands to join in.

Your palms hurt after.

– – – – –

“It was really nice, what you said in there,” you say, fingers caressing a little plastic chip of your own that you keep safe in your coat pocket. You haven’t felt proud of yourself in a while, but tonight you do.

The evening is nice, the setting sun bathing the city in hues of orange and pink. Your pace is slow and comfortable, your arm occasionally brushing Logan’s when you make room for all the other pedestrians. You didn’t plan on him walking you home, but he insisted and you enjoy the company – it makes you a little sad when you turn onto your street.

Logan scoffs in reply. 

“I’m being serious,” you say, knocking your elbow against his arm on purpose now. “It was nice for people to hear a guy like you say those things. I’m proud of you.”

You swear he blushes. “A guy like me, huh?” he asks, almost amused.

It’s your turn to scoff. “You know what I mean.” 

“A mutant?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“No,” you say, because it’s not what you meant, but the hint of seriousness in his voice and the fact he’s not entirely wrong make you track back. “Well, maybe that, too, but I meant someone who looks like you, allowing themselves to be vulnerable. Sets a nice example.”

Logan doesn’t shoot your comments down like you expect. Instead, he seems to consider your words, maybe he even silently accepts the compliment. “Think you have some things to say that could set a nice example, too.”

“Maybe next time.”

During the comfortable silence that follows, you’re reminded of something you’ve been considering for weeks now. You hadn’t paid much attention to it since that night, but as you worked through the feelings that got you to that point, the question kept coming back.

“I’ve been wondering something,” you begin. “The night we met... What were you doing at the lookout?”

Logan glances at you, contemplating the question. “When I had just, um, gotten here, it wasn’t always easy to adjust, you know? So I went to all these places that I knew from back there, to ground myself, to see that things may be different, but that they’re not that different.”

“You went there on your side?”

He hums.

“By yourself?”

He hums again.

“Did you…” You hesitate to finish your sentence, both because you’re not sure if you have any right to ask and because you’ve reached your building. You stop walking, and Logan follows your lead. 

“No, no, no, I… I can’t explain it, it’s just one of those places I was always drawn to,” Logan says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans with a shrug. His brows furrow suddenly, his mind seemingly lost in something before his eyes flick back to yours. “Think it took me coming over here to find reason in it.”

It’s a thought that’s equal parts sad and lovely. 

The silence that follows hangs between you, thick with something you can’t place, but Logan doesn’t look away from you, eyes scanning your face before they land back on yours. You can’t help thinking that maybe this is how he does it, and the question comes out before you can help it,

“Is mind reading part of the X-Gene thing?”

His eyes widen – amusement or surprise, you can’t say. “It can be.” 

“Can you do it?”

“No,” he says. “And it’s for the best, fucking hurts when you can’t control it.” Then the start of a smile begins to form on his lips. “‘sides, I don’t know if I would have a lot of… consideration for people’s boundaries.”

It makes you chuckle. “Right. Not to mention some minds are probably a lot – imagine reading Wade’s mind.”

“Hurts to even imagine,” Logan says, gesturing for you to be quiet as he winces, but a smile breaks through anyway. When your shared laughter dies down, he jerks his chin at the building behind you, “This your place?”

“Wha–?” Going home long forgotten in the moment, you glance over your shoulder. “Oh! Yes.”

“All right,” he nods. “See you next week?”

“Definitely,” you reply.

“Oh,” Logan says right before you turn around. “Bring coffee? You owe me.”

You make a face at him. “You don’t have to– I’ll get you something else, I know you don’t like it.”

“I like it when I drink it with you.”

It’s incredibly hard to hide your grin. “Okay, I’ll bring coffee. See you next week, Logan.”

“See you.” 

He lingers, watching you climb the steps, waiting until the door opens after you turn your key in the lock. It’s not until you close the door, when you can only make out his silhouette through the patterned glass window in it, that he walks off.

THE SUMMER

Walking back from a very successful job interview, you find yourself on your way to your friends with a big, plastic bottle of coke under your arm. It’s a warm feeling to know that you’ll soon have a job that suits you and that you have people to celebrate with; you look forward to seeing them and sharing this with them.

You’re invited inside with open arms, tight hugs, exclaimed praise and congratulations, and it makes you giddy, a feeling so foreign that you wish you could bottle it up right this instant. With a grin, you shake the Coca Cola bottle, before twisting the cap off. You let out an excited shout as you watch the foam shoot out from the top, bubbles and dark liquid pulsing down the neck of the bottle as cheers surround you.

It’s not champagne, but Althea grumbles about the soda ruining her floors, Wade gets mismatched glasses from the cupboard, and Logan clinks his glass to yours and tells you he’s proud of you.

It��s way better than champagne.

– – – – –

You’re in serious, desperate need of a new place… 

The August heat is relentless, and the entire building’s AC isn’t working. It’s with considerable effort that you manage to make your way to your friends’ place, the promise of a constant, cold stream of wind the only thing that keeps you going. But when the front door opens, it isn’t with the welcoming, cool waft of air you were hoping for. Instead, there’s no temperature change, only Wade in his underwear.

“No.” It’s a little embarrassing how you literally pout, but these are desperate times. “Here, too?”

“If it wasn’t this fucking hot I’d be offended by that greeting.” He sighs. “Come in.”

Slightly defeated, you shuffle past the threshold, while Wade lingers. Mary Puppins trots by, an ice-pack wrapped in a towel secured on her back, and you catch a glimpse of Logan exiting the bedroom. He’s in black shorts and a ribbed, sleeveless shirt, and with a desperate groan, he lets himself fall back into the recliner in the living room. 

“Tried everything, there’s no fixing that fucking thing.”

Wade makes a face, “Listen, I know what you’re thinking: Wade’s in his underwear, Logan’s emerging from the bedroom… But we didn’t fuck, it’s not that kind of st–”

“Who are you talking to?” you ask from behind him, glancing over his shoulder into the empty hallway.

“No one–You!” The door closes with a bang.

Confused, you walk further into the apartment. “Well, telling me you didn’t is just going to make me think that you did.” Wade darts past you and takes a seat on the couch, but you hang back and lean against the kitchen table to avoid sitting on leather.

Wade suddenly turns to face you. “Did I ever tell you about our time in The Void?”

“Wade,” Logan warns.

Wade’s eyes are sparkling with mischief and you can’t deny how fun it is to indulge the way he pushes Logan’s buttons. It’s a good distraction from how you’re drenched in sweat. And you’re actually curious.

You play your part, letting out a faux-scandalised gasp. “Did you..?”

“Oh, yeah, baby. Wolverine goes both ways. All the ways, really.” He grins. “We’re so alike.”

“Shut up. Both of you.” Logan groans, lacking any real threat as he adjusts in his seat and wipes some sweat off his brow. “It’s too fucking hot to be annoyed.”

It isn’t lost on you he doesn’t deny a thing.

– – – – –

Apartments look weird with nothing in them.

It’s what crossed your mind after you finished packing up your place three days ago, and it crosses your mind now as you look into the open space of your new one from the doorway. It’s a pleasant, late summer day; perfect weather to move, which was on your schedule for today.

“Incoming!” comes from behind you, followed by quick, heavy steps.

You jump aside as Ellie sails through the door, carefully setting a big box marked “Kitchen” down in its designated area, followed by Logan who is balancing three boxes at once. After a beat, Yukio follows, holding a single table lamp in her hand. It takes some effort not to laugh, not just because of how funny it looks, but also because you relate; after all the exhausting late nights you pulled packing up, that’s also the kind of energy you’re bringing to this.

It’s nice of them to help, and instead of shoving that feeling away in fear, you allow yourself to bask in it. You don’t get long, however, because more help has just arrived.

Wade. With Vanessa. Hands interlocked.

It draws everyone’s eyes to the doorway. Wade looks almost bashful, and it baffles you how someone who can say the most insane things unprompted, all without batting an eye, could blush while holding hands with a girl he likes. To his credit, he shakes it off quickly.

“All right, all right,” he says. “Stop ogling me and my girlfriend and get back to work everyone!”

– – – – –

“So it was like an experiment?” you ask, stirring the pot on your stove before taking a careful bite of food off your wooden spoon.

Tonight’s your first night hosting at your new place – Family Dinner, Wade had dubbed it. With fall setting in, you had an idea of what to make, but it still made you nervous to have everyone in your space. Logan saw right through you, offering to come over early to help you prepare. 

Once he had arrived, it hadn’t taken long for him to admit he wasn’t much of a cook, so he mainly chopped vegetables as you chatted; you about your new place, Logan about his new job as a boxing instructor, Laura going off to college. You don’t remember exactly how the subject of his adamantium came up, but he was telling you freely about it.

“They needed someone who could regenerate fast enough to bond with it,” he explains. “I was in a dark place. Figured I didn’t have anything to lose if it didn’t work.”

You nod in understanding. “Do you… remember much about it?” You put your spoon down, then put the lid back on the pan. 

Logan’s knife stops hitting the cutting board. “Yeah, I… I remember every second of it.”

You look at him then. His eyes are still cast down at his task. Unsure of what to say, you think about what you’d want to hear, and you find it might be best to say nothing at all. Instead, your hand finds his shoulder. Logan’s head turns to you, and you feel like the look you share is more important than anything you could’ve told him. His hand covers yours with an appreciative squeeze. 

“But I’m trying to leave that there so I can focus on remembering what happens to me here.” As soon as he’s said it, his hand quickly slips off yours, adding, in a rush, “Here in this timeline, I mean.” 

You smile at him, but a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. “That sounds like a great idea.”

– – – – –

“I need your help with something,” you say, balancing your phone between your ear and your shoulder while you turn a birthday card over in your hand. Deciding you don’t like it, you throw it back on the pile of cards and continue your grocery shopping.

“Just say the word,” comes Logan’s reply from the other end.

“I need you to steal something out of the apartment for me.” There’s a silence, and you purposely let the feeling of trepidation linger.

“Am gonna need you to say a little more than just that.”

You laugh, “Wade’s been talking about getting a little frame for his polaroid. You know, the polaroid that you held on to for him in The Void, after the two of you fu–”

“Yes, I know the one,” he interjects with a huff. He pauses, sighs, then says, “Consider it done.”

THE PARTY

“There you are!” Wade shouts after he opens the door. He pulls you into a hug that you return with a wide smile. Over his shoulder, you see that the apartment’s crowded, bustling with people who are there for his birthday party.

“I got you something,” you say, offering the small package to him after you step inside and hang up your coat.

“Wouldn’t have let you in if you hadn’t,” he admits as he closes the door behind you with a bang. Wade takes the package from your hand, shaking it next to his ear but hearing it make no sound in response. “Is it a cock ring?”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Unfortunately, they were all sold out.”

“They always are,” he says, making a disappointed face. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you watch as he tears at the wrapping paper to reveal his gift. He makes another face when he sees it. “Well, now I feel like an asshole. This is really nice.”

“Logan helped me kidnap it,” you explain, pointing at the picture. “And the little red hearts on the frame, well, they’re your color, but they also reminded me of how much you care about people.”

When he looks at you after, it’s with genuine emotion… but Wade is Wade. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m kind of happy you walked in here barfing up the place.”

A strange mix of embarrassment and gratitude claws its way up your neck. “Thank you.”

“We should take a new one,” he decides suddenly, pointing at the picture. “You both should be in it.” His head turns, watching as Logan approaches the two of you. “But let’s be realistic, his shoulders are so broad he wouldn’t even fit in the frame, much less his bul–”

“Stop talking about my dick, Wade,” Logan snaps.

“I was saying only good things! Jeez, so sensitive…” Wade turns, putting the picture on the kitchen table behind him where it joins all the other gifts.

“Did he like it?” Logan asks, voice low.

“Yeah,” you smile.

“Good,” he replies. “Was a nice idea.”

You eye all the other gifts, some clearer who they are from than others. “What did you get him?”

The corner of Logan’s mouth lifts as he points at a roll of silver duct tape with a small red bow on top, making you fix them both with a confused look.

“It’s an inside joke,” Logan shrugs.

Wade’s eyes sparkle, but in a rare turn of events, he doesn’t elaborate, only adds, “It’s classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.” 

“And I have top level clearance, lieutenant,” you reply. You exhale through your nose in an amused laugh when Wade makes a surprised face that indicates you’ve gotten the reference. “What, you thought a Tom Cruise impression could save you?”

“No,” he grins, and as if on cue, the doorbell rings, “but that can. Birthday Boy duty calls, but I want it on record that I could do Top Gun, easily, while Tom would never be able to pull off Deadpool.”

– – – – –

The party settles into something comfortable, soft music in the background of lively chatter. Yukio has just finished telling you about a Professor Layton cosplay she’s doing when you excuse yourself, both your glass and your social battery empty enough to look for a momentary out. Finding your way through the crowd, you make it to the kitchen, filling your glass with water and taking a few sips. 

While you do, the music suddenly gets louder, taking over for the steady chatter. You turn around, leaning back against the kitchen counter, and watch as Wade drags Vanessa to the middle of the apartment. People make room for them, exchanging looks while Wade wraps his arm around her waist, takes her hand in his and begins dancing with her. With a laugh, she slaps him on the chest, before settling into his embrace anyway. Some follow their lead, but your eyes stay glued to them. Wade spins Vanessa under his arm, the smile on her face bright enough to light up the entire room. In return, he looks at her with so much adoration he’s almost glowing himself. It fills you with warmth to see the both of them so happy.

It hits you how you haven’t thought about this in a while. You’d decided long ago that the future wasn’t something you had to worry about, but suddenly you’ve arrived, like you’re in some alternate reality where your future is now, and that it would be nice to share it with someone. The sting behind your eyes catches you a little off guard; mixed feelings of time that has been taken from you, but also of time you’re getting back with the life you now have.

For a while now, you’ve suspected the thing inside you is gone, that there isn’t much to feed off of anymore. If it is, it would make sense that there’s room for something else.

Wade and Vanessa make it look easy, even though you know it’s been far from easy for them. You suppose that’s what it’s like, especially as you get older. It’s less about big gestures, more about small ones; someone to make you laugh, to spin you under their arm, who knows how to apologize, seeks you out during your quiet moments–

“Do you dance?”

You startle, head turning towards the voice next to you– 

“Logan,” you breathe. 

It’s like you’re seeing him for the very first time. He’s standing so close, almost touching you but not quite, heat radiating off of him nonetheless. The plaid shirt he’s wearing isn’t even buttoned and still the fabric is pulled taunt over his shoulders and the thick of his biceps. He’s grinning, his nose pulled up in an adorable scrunch, the corner of his eyes crinkling - you never noticed before, but there’s a hint of green between the hazel.

It hits you so suddenly that you have to grab the counter to keep your balance. Everything that’s been happening, that you’ve been feeling, all the times something happened between the two of you that you couldn’t put your finger on… it falls into place with a well-timed, completely unrelated question and a glance at him.

You like him.

All you can do is blink at him, dazed, unable to speak, even more so when he leans in a little closer, mistaking your silence for misunderstanding. “I mean, not that I– You and Wade were doing a bit earlier, it’s a reference to–” Logan straightens suddenly, his expression slipping into concern as he watches you, “Are you okay?”

You feel warm, so aware of all his attention on you that you’re afraid he might be able to see your pulse blink rapidly below the angle of your jaw. “Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse, looking away from him to blink the leftover wetness from earlier out of your eyes. 

Anxiety claws its way into your chest, your mind coming to terms with what it’s puzzled together at such a sickening pace that there’s an immediate knot in your stomach. The party has instantly lost its shine, and you look down at the glass in your hand, gulping down its contents. You need to be alone with your thoughts, you need to think about this before–

“I gotta go,” you say in such a rush that it almost sounds like one word while you set your glass on the kitchen counter.

Logan’s eyes follow you as you push past him, grab your coat and reach for the doorknob. “Wait–”

“Bye, Logan.”

THE TABLE

Once at home, you change into something more comfortable, your mind racing while you peel your party clothes off, toss your bra aside, change into an oversized shirt and plop down on the couch after.

Despite having already established that your mind was occupied with other things for a very long time, it’s laughable in hindsight that you never noticed your feelings before. It’s not like you don’t know what Logan’s like; he’s kind, funny, supportive…

…broad, handsome.

Shit.

Why did you have to come to your senses? Things were better before that moment. Logan’s your friend, whom you met in the most unconventional way possible. It’s ridiculous to want more than what you have when what you have is good. Or to think that he would want more.

But he might.

Because you may have been occupied with depression, anxiety, recovery, and everything in between, but you were there; you remember the time you spent with him, the way he looks at you, drinks the coffee you like, laughs at your jokes, seems to know exactly when to call you, seeks you out in a crowd.

But it would change everyth– 

Actually, not a whole lot would change, if you really think about it. You already see him all the time, you’ve seen the very worst of each other, overcome a great deal of hardship together, you make each other better, his friends are your… 

friends. 

You didn’t say goodbye to Wade.

The thought comes suddenly. It was his birthday party and you didn’t even say goodbye to him before you left. You’re a terrible friend. Dread sinks into your limbs, and you reach for your phone to type out a quick, apologetic message. Just as you hit send, there’s a series of loud knocks on the door, and it makes you freeze up where you’re seated.

“Are you in there?” a muffled voice calls out.

It’s Logan, you realize, and a plethora of fake excuses as to why you left the party early present themselves to your mind as you quickly make your way over to the door.

The first thing you notice when you open it is that he’s dripping wet from the rain, clothes soaked through and his hair flat. There’s a deep furrow in his brow, and it’s different from how he usually looks; he looks actually mad.

“Logan, is everything–” you begin, concerned, but he cuts you off by pushing past you and letting himself inside, boots stomping against the wooden floor. 

“Jesus, here you are. Why’d you leave like that, huh? Saying goodbye, your eyes all wet. I went after you and you were fucking gone, it scared the shit out of me. Didn’t see the car at the lookout, but I went to look for you anyway, and you weren’t in the water, thank fuck–”

“Wait, you went–” you pause, the mental image of Logan running out into the rain to the cliffside making your eyes widen. “Did you think..?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, shoulders slumping.

“Shit.” Your heart is racing when you step closer to him. “No, I wasn’t… I don’t want that anymore.”

“Then what the fuck was that all about?”

The desperation and misunderstanding in his eyes is unmistakable, and you hate that you made him feel like that. “I was just… I needed a moment, after seeing Wade and Vanessa like that,” you say, trying to provide yourself with more time to think, unsure if you already want to broach the subject of why you really left.

“You… like Wade?” Logan asks, his frown deepening.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the unexpected question. “No. I mean, I adore Wade, but not like that. He’s with Vanessa.”

The answer does nothing to change his expression. “And you want it to be different?”

His line of questioning confuses you. “I– No. Logan, this isn’t about Wade or Vanessa, but it’s about… what they have. Something that’s real, but imperfect, and that’s what actually makes it perfect, and I just… I was in a really bad place for such a long time, I didn’t give myself time to even think about… I haven’t felt myself wanting for so long,” your gaze flicks up to his. “Seeing them just made me realize there’s so much left that I still want.” 

Internally, you curse the way he always makes you say too much, because you can see the understanding wash over his features. His expression softens, the balled fists by his side loosen, and his eyes search you, as if to see if that thing you want is him. There’s no doubt he finds his answer; you’re ever the open book when it comes to him, and your pulse quickens while he silently observes you. 

Logan reaches for you so quickly that you can barely prepare for it, a hand on your waist to pull you in, another on your cheek to tip your face up and guide your mouth to his. A shaky breath sails out through your nose when your lips meet, your eyes fluttering shut and your palms sliding up his damp but warm chest to curl in the soaked fabric of his shirt. It’s eager, and the angle is off, but it’s quickly adjusted with a brief parting and a near in-sync tilt of your heads in the other direction. 

Logan pulls away, but stays close, and you almost feel his words before hearing them, “Been… thinking about doing that.”

“Really?” you say, breathless and amused. “When did you, um, start wanting to do that?”

“Few weeks ago–Fuck, no, more than that. Almost did, that day after your first meeting, after you told me you were proud of me,” he admits. “But I wanted to give you time, space. Wasn’t sure if you felt–”

“I do. Didn’t realize it before, but I fucking do,” you assure him, another tug on his collar trying to pull him back to you. His admissions, knowing he wants you too, only make you want him more, like you have to make up for all the time you wasted not doing this sooner.

Logan’s hand on your waist holds you off. “I just don’t know how to… how to be this,” he confesses softly.

“That’s okay,” you say, your nose brushing against his. “I don’t either.”

He inches forward like he intends to kiss you again, but seems to reconsider, swallowing hard before saying, “Wouldn’t be the first time we figure it out together, huh?”

The words make you surge forward to close the gap between you, your brows creasing, attempting to convey everything you feel with one press of your lips to his. Logan’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you to him in a way that seems to mirror your efforts. Something lights up inside you, something you lost long ago, and it makes you bold, opening your mouth under his to get a taste of him. 

His grip on you tightens with a groan, spurring him into action and walking you backwards into the dark kitchen, the only illumination the slivers of moonlight that come through the kitchen window. You jolt when the back of your thighs hit the table, before you’re scrambling to get on top of it, two hands at your waist helping to hoist you up. Your thighs widen to make room for Logan’s while you push the green flannel shirt off his shoulders, struggling to peel it off his arms to the point you have to break away with a laugh to really get it right. It lands on the floor with a wet sound, before he reaches for the back of his shirt, curling his fingers around the collar and pulling it over his head.

Logan’s sturdy, warm to the touch and surprisingly pliant when you can’t help but let your fingers flit along the corded muscles and protruding veins while he toes off his shoes. His hand flies to the back of your head to fist the hair at the nape of your neck when your lips explore, find his jaw, and travel down his neck. A soft sound sails from his mouth, a barely audible moan that carries over into something deeper when your lips brush a spot just above his clavicle. Using the grip he has on you, he drags you back up to his mouth, doing some more of his own exploring when his warm tongue strokes against your own. 

“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs with a buck of his hips against yours. The thrill of having him pushed up against you, half-hard, warm, full of promise, makes you moan, teeth clacking against his when you do. “Always so fucking good to me.”

It makes you want to protest, from the very moment you met, he’s the one always being that to you, but it dies on your tongue when Logan’s flicks over the tips of his fingers. His impatient hand finds its way between you, disappearing under the waistband of your underwear and stretching the material to make room. His name comes out as a whimper when his spit-slick fingers easily glide through the soft skin between your legs. He curses, another buck of his hips pressing his hand closer against you, and your kiss turns messy and uncoordinated when he dips one finger to touch your clit. 

“This okay?” Logan asks when you gasp, drawing languid circles between your legs.

“Yeah, it’s just– Oh, god.” Two thick fingers find your entrance, swirling the wetness there around. “Been a while,” you manage to finish your sentence.

“I’ll make it good for you,” he promises. “You want that?”

All you can do is nod, and Logan presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulls his hand back. It’s paired with a wet sound that makes your cheeks heat, more so when you watch him get on his knees and yank you to the edge of the table, the quick turn of events and the casual display of his strength making you a little dizzy. Logan’s nose presses into the fabric between your legs with a sharp inhale, before quick, practiced moves work your underwear down your legs. One eager hand places a thigh on his shoulder as another holds you at the bend of your knee. You lie back, arching as you hurriedly pull your t-shirt over your head, leaning up on your elbows just in time to watch him bend down. 

The feeling of Logan’s hot breath sailing out over your sensitive skin alone is enough to make you gasp. He drags his lips and nose across your folds, easing you into it as much as his lack of patience will allow before tasting you with a swipe of his tongue. It isn’t tentative or testing, but firm and sure, and clearly for his enjoyment as much as yours when he repeats his action and groans into you. The vibrations of it and the gentle scratch of his facial hair only add to the liquid feeling in the pit of your stomach. Letting go of your knee, he curls a strong arm around your thigh, spreading you open then pulling you flush against him while he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Oh, that feels really good,” you spur him on, your heel digging in between his shoulder blades. You watch him with hooded eyes, shifting your weight to one elbow so you can cup your breast with a whine. 

Logan’s eyes slip shut in focus, working his tongue up and down your clit and making you arch into his mouth. Reaching for you blindly, he slides a hand over yours on your chest, fingers fitting between your own and squeezing while his tongue slides lower to lick over where you’re dripping for him. He lets out an appreciative hum as he repeats the move until your thighs clench and shake around his ears. His tongue dips inside you, curling up against the slick walls of your cunt, and his name tumbles from your mouth, soft, pleading, making his eyes shoot open to meet yours.

The sight of him looking up at you like that from between your thighs, with dark eyes, the tip of his nose glistening with your wetness, will probably haunt you for the rest of your life. 

Logan shushes your begging, pulling away and watching as your pussy clenches at the sudden lack of attention. “Let me give you something to come on,” he murmurs, before fitting a finger at your entrance. It meets absolutely no resistance, a second finger sliding inside with just as much ease, and he sets a steady, deep rhythm before his mouth returns to your clit.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” Your head rolls back between your shoulder blades, mouth open on a silent gasp, but he draws your attention back to him with a curl of his fingers, finding a spot that makes you go rigid for a second. It all builds so fast, so suddenly. The hand on your chest shakes Logan’s off, finding the crown of his head and sliding your fingers into his hair. He’s too strong to really make purchase, but you try anyway, using your grip to roll your hips against him. The sound of his groans, every flick of his tongue and every squelching, delicious curl of his fingers all send you closer and closer, until his hand presses down on your belly, and…

“Logan,” you manage, voice sharp with a warning that comes too late when he makes you tumble over the edge. 

It’s so much after so long, the force of it making you fall back against the table, something between a gasp and a shout tearing from your throat. He holds you tighter, to keep you in place and guide the desperate roll of your hips against his face. Your orgasm quickly slips into something bordering on oversensitivity, and you let out a dry sob that makes you slap a hand over your mouth when Logan’s tongue travels a path from where his stilled fingers disappear inside you, up to your clit. He stays there, gentle, uncharacteristically patient as you slowly come to a twitching halt. 

He’s a blur when he comes back into your field of view after standing up, towering over you to watch as you come back down to earth. Becoming sharper with every heavy blink of your eyes, you notice the smile on his face is smug, that the hair surrounding it is a shade darker than the rest. You sigh softly when his fingers slip from you, the feeling of them sliding wetly over your clit making you tremble, but his touch doesn’t leave you completely when he moves to stroke the outside of your thigh.

“How’s that?” Logan dares to ask.

“Hmm, no speaking yet,” you protest.

Reaching for him, you slide both of your arms up over his broad shoulders, wrists crossed in the nape of his neck to pull him in for another kiss. It’s slow, and deep, the taste of yourself shared between the two of you as your tongue slides over his. The table protests with a creak when his hands land beside your head, more when his chest pushes down on yours and you wrap a leg around his waist to get him even closer. The hair scattered across his broad chest teases your nipples and the hard ridge of his cock strains against his jeans and presses up against your slick cunt. It makes your jaw go slack, stoking your desire and making you burn with the need to make him feel as good as he just made you feel. 

With a push against his shoulders, you take him along as you sit upright again, accompanied by another creak of the table. Mouth still on his, you slide a hand down to cup him over his jeans, the weight of him against your wide open palm making you pulse. Logan grunts when your hand squeezes, and your mouth slides off his, kissing his jaw, sliding back down his neck. He cups your head, keeping you in place while watching your hand.

“Feels nice,” he husks, voice so deep it makes you want to push him aside and get on your knees for him, but then he asks, “Are you gonna let me fuck you?”

“God, yeah,” you say with a nod, watching as the mark you just sucked into his neck disappears far too soon while you continue rubbing him over the denim. “Want you inside of me.”

“Jesus–Then get it out,” he instructs, guiding your hand to his belt. 

If you weren’t so turned on you might wince at how eager you are, at how quickly you tug the buckle open and pull the leather free. Logan groans when it relieves some of the pressure, letting his forehead rest against yours. Together, you watch your hands make quick work of his zipper, your fist closing around his cock while your other hand works his pants down until he can kick it off and under the table.

He fits nicely in your palm, heavy and ready, sticky at the tip. With a purse of your lips, you let your spit trickle down in a straight line, and he hisses when it hits him. Your free hand flattens against his stomach, sliding down along the hard planes of his body and following the vein just below his belly button down, until it meets your other hand that loosely strokes up to the root of his cock. Logan arches into you when you stroke back up with a tighter grip, all but getting on his toes to chase your touch. Using both of your hands to get all of him, you twist your fists in opposite directions once, twice, before circling his tip with one thumb. Your other hand curls around the underside of him, dragging some of your spit down to his balls with the tips of your fingers.

“F–fuck,” Logan stutters when you play with him there, cupping him in your hand as well as you can and squeezing his shaft when it twitches in response. His eyes slip shut as his palms land on the outside of your thighs with a smack, fingertips digging into your soft skin. 

It makes you jolt, then grin, giddy from the sharp sting and the power you have over his pleasure. “How’s that?” you echo with a teasing lilt.

He does have the words to answer, albeit a little slurred, “‘S good, sweetheart.”

The nickname tacked on at the end takes root in your chest, blooms bright and makes you ache. You translate your appreciation into tightening your strokes and spreading more of the precome that steadily leaks from his tip around.

“C’mere,” Logan says softly, taking over for you with one hand, giving himself a few strokes before pushing your thighs further apart and shuffling closer to line himself up with you.

You’re so wet that the head of his cock is practically already slipping inside of you, but your hand clasps around his bicep when he really starts to breach you. After giving you a shallow little thrust, his hips draw back, before pushing a little further, gauging your reaction.

“Just like that,” you sigh, watching the careful slide of him in and out of you. “Keep going just like that.”

He gets you opened up like that, giving you a little more with each wind of his hips. Logan’s hand finds the back of your neck, his palm splaying out and keeping you close enough that you’re practically sharing air with each sigh and moan. Eventually, your knees have to draw up to his flanks in order for him to keep going and you wind a leg around his hip to close the final distance with a press of your heel into one of the firm cheeks of his ass. A long breath sails out from between your lips when you pulse around him, slowly adjusting to having all of him filling you up. You can tell he has to put considerable effort into letting you, wood groaning below you when he clutches onto the table.

“Fuck, it’s a lot,” you say, and when he grins against your mouth you can’t help but kiss him again – just a peck. The hand at the back of your neck squeezes in reassurance as he continues to let you lead, and it’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel warm all over. You melt into it his touch, your body relaxing as the pleasure of the stretch of him takes over.  

“Can stay like this a little longer if you want,” he says, but the strain in his voice says something different.

“Hmm, no, you can move.” You’ve barely said it, or his hips are drawing back, and it would have made you laugh if it didn’t feel so fucking incredible. He almost slips from you completely, before sliding all the way back inside with a grunt. The table scrapes along the floor, and vaguely you register one of your chairs falling over in the process. When he repeats the action, the furniture squeaks again below you. “Just don’t break my table.”

The sound he makes in response is non-commital, and when he fucks back into you and nudges against something wonderful, you can’t say you disagree. Grabbing hold of his shoulder and using the leg you have wrapped around him, you roll your hips against his, and he begins to meet you halfway until you work up a rhythm together. The table protest further, a shrill sound filling the room after each slap of skin–

With a frustrated groan and accompanied by a startled squeal from yourself, Logan lifts you. The surprised laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat quickly morphs into something heavier that comes out with a rasp when he makes it all look unusually effortless. Attempting to brace yourself, you sling one arm over his shoulders, the other winding around his neck so you can rake your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. It’s a struggle to keep your balance, a helpless heel digging into the back of his thigh to keep yourself upright. Quick to aid, Logan slides an arm under you, fingers splayed across your ass as your knee hangs off the inside of his elbow. He turns a quarter, presses you up against the wall, and doesn’t miss a beat as he continues fucking you. 

“Jesus, Logan,” you say, voice almost a growl and barely recognizable as your own.

With your new position, you can see him better, the both of you lit from the side with the window to your left. The moonlight paints him in a tapestry of light and shadows when the wind blows through the tree branches, momentarily amplifying the glint in his eyes and the flex of his chest and arms like a strobe light.

The different angle he finds with his cock is a little too good, the feeling of the thick base of him stretching you open with each thrust making you dazed and talkative, “It’s so deep like this, can–oh, my god–can feel you everywhere.” 

Logan curses at your words, squeezing your waist and pushing you harder against the wall. There’s a deep-voiced appreciation of how good you feel in there too that doesn’t quite make it from your ears to your brain because somehow he’s still speeding up. His head ducks down to your chest, mouthing at the soft skin of your breast before closing his lips around a nipple. 

You whine, using the grip you have on him to roll your hips against the piston of his while you pant into his crown. Though the sound he makes against you when you do it makes you beam with pride, it’s not something you can keep up for very long, your hold on him slacking after a few thrust until you slip back against the wall. 

Logan pulls back when you do, tightening his hold on you while his eyes glide from the bounce of your tits that glisten with his spit to down between your bodies. 

“Touch yourself,” he instructs, grunting when you immediately do as he says by bringing a hand down between where you’re joined. Your fingers spread in a V-shape around where he fucks into you, collecting some of your mixed arousal before using it to rub your clit. “That’s it, sweetheart, fuck, make yourself come.”

You nod, rapidly feeling everything zeroing in on the fingers that draw tight circles over your clit and that spot deep inside you that Logan’s finding with every thrust. “Yeah, fuck, I’m–Don’t stop, don’t stop, please–”

He’s coming before you are, tucking his head below your chin to let out a deep, drawn out moan against your neck that ends with his teeth grazing your skin. It’s so much, the pressure of him grinding himself into you with twitching, barely there thrusts, the heat of his release as it fills you where you’re gripping him like a vice, and as your fingers still twirl between your legs you come, and come, and come. 

The leg you have wrapped around his hip slips off, but before your toes can even scrape the floor, he catches your thigh, cupping your ass with both hands now to keep you up, and close. With a soft, satisfied sound, you let your forehead fall against Logan’s shoulder, tasting the salt of his sweat with every light press of your lips there.

It takes you a moment to notice your back has come off the wall, that Logan is walking the both of you into your living room and to the couch. He bends his knees, dropping you between your pillows, where you land with as much grace as you can muster considering you feel like you’re made of lead. The soft couch is pleasant against your body, your sore limbs sinking into the cushions. 

Logan fits himself between your legs again, widening them around his broad shoulders before his lips find your overstretched thighs, leaving marks and kisses up up up, until his tongue slips back into your pussy. Your back arches off the couch, hands shooting down to fist his hair with a whine while Logan’s hand fists his cock. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell he’s already getting hard again, and his tongue is making something swirl low in your belly that’s making you pant, and...

It’ll be a long night.

THE PEARL

It had taken a lot of convincing and downright groveling, but Wade had allowed you to bring a movie for movie night. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust your taste in movies, his main gripe with your choice was that it wasn’t a Christmas movie – mandatory for December. Wade’s right, but after you explained that it’s the movie you always watch at the end of the year (and after Logan and yourself conceded that yes, his birthday was technically also your anniversary) he’d agreed. 

Now that you’re actually watching it, you suspect he’s genuinely invested, because after a handful of comments about The Hulk, he’s been quiet for longer than you’ve ever heard him be quiet.

In the scene on the screen, Mark Ruffalo’s character Dan and Keira Knightley’s character Gretta are taking an evening walk around New York City, dancing, singing and sharing music with each other as they do. Eventually, they stop and sit next to each other on some steps, watching as the city continues to move without them.

“...the most banal scenes are suddenly invested with so much meaning, ya know? All these banalities, they're suddenly turned into these… these beautiful, effervescent pearls,” Dan says, wistfully looking on as New York bustles around him. “I gotta say, as I've gotten older these pearls are just… becoming increasingly more and more rare to me.”

The arm Logan has slung around your shoulder tightens, and the couch creaks softly as you lean further into his side, your cheek squishing against his warm chest.

“More string than pearls?” Gretta inquires with a frown.

“Yeah. You got to travel over a lot more string to get to the pearls.” There’s a pause as he turns to look at her, “This moment is a pearl, Gretta.”

She gives him a hint of a smile. “It sort of is, isn't it?”

“All this has been a pearl,” he admits, sharing a look with her.

A finger curls under your chin, tipping your head up until your eyes meet Logan’s. He gives you the same look you just saw on the screen, his eyes soft as they take you in, the hint of green between the hazel illuminated by the light of the television. A thumb swipes over your bottom lip fondly, before he leans down to kiss you.

It takes a lot of string indeed.

Sometimes even interdimensional string.

– – – – –

(THE END)

If you made it all the way here, thanks for reading. Seriously. Please come say hi and/or share your thoughts via ask/messages/reblogs/whatever you feel comfortable with. I hope to share more writing soon - emphasis on hope, I'm not making promises, just an educated wish.

And lastly, if you're struggling with mental health problems, please don't wait for a handsome stranger to sweep you off your feet. I know from experience that it can be incredibly difficult to reach that hand out, but I also know from experience that things can get better. There are ways to get help and you deserve to get help 🫂

[sayoneee]

☆ THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA

“tall and tan and young and lovely / the girl from Ipanema goes walking” - frank sinatra version (smau)

contains: clarisse la rue x daughter of dionysus! reader. alt universe - everyones happy. woc friendly as always

kashaf’s note: requested! (sorry for how long this took!) update: changed the fc for clarisse bc i do not support zionists.

liked by selinabeauregard, lukecastellan, and 193 others

yn what if i permanently moved to brazil...

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silenabeauregard i think your gf would be too upset

yn who? silenabeauregard you know who i'm talking about yn silena wtf r u talking about silenabeauregard 🤫 mewing time

lukecastellan bro if u do u better take me w u i cannot handle another day w my siblings.

yn i gotchu im booking our tix rn travistole dude wtf. connorstole hello??????????????? chrisrodriguez bro im telling chiron on ur ass rn

clarisse u look good

silenabeauregard girl. yn thanks! 💓💓

liked by clarisse, annabethhh, and 197 others

yn lit crazy movie (gf is so gorg)

tagged silenabeauregard, lukecastellan

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silenabeauregard AWW I LOVE YOU

yn I LOVE U MORE PRETTY GIRL

thaliiia @ lukecastellan u look dumb asf

lukecastellan dude ur lucky yn didnt post that pic of u. thaliiia what pic... lukecastellan 🏃

clarisse we should go out again

yn YEAH text me details!! silenabeauregard young love yn silena stfu rn. im telling charlie silenabeauregard NO IM SORRY.

travistole who tf says lit crazy movie anymore

yn wow! let me look through the pics of connor throwing up on u! travistole NO IM SORRY. connorstole L

liked by yn, shermansarmy, and 284 others

clarisse eating everyone up like its my business

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yn UR SO HOT HELLO.

yn CLARISSE IS THAT MY BRACELET clarisse YES PRETTY GIRL

travistole woah who knew u could clean up this well

connorstole im in agreement actually annabethhh this is why clarisse hates you guys connorstole aww annie ur too kind annabethhh connor i'm outside your cabin. 🔪 connorstole WTF

silenabeauregard 🙌🙌

liked by thaliiia, travistole, and 303 others

yn well i am my father's daughter so maybe i can fix her!

view all comments.

clarisse my girl

lukecastellan so this is a thing now! silenabeauregard YAY. thaliiia finally losers.

[hysteria-things]

SECRET'S OUT (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: nate’s still upset about what happened, but he has to get over it eventually.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, that’s it :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 657

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: part two yay!

no beatings took place, thank god.

currently, you’re awkwardly eating lunch at the dining table with nate. it’s been a few days and he has said some words here and there, but he can barely look you in the eyes.

which is understandable, because walking in on your best friend balls deep in your little sister was not a fun sight to see. “how long has it been going on?” he asks out of the blue.

you look up from your plate, seeing him twirl the pasta on his fork. “two months.”

his body tenses, but he nods. “so you guys are just hooking up? no feelings?”

“no,” you say truthfully. that causes nate to finally look up at you, gaining his attention. “we want to start moving along in the relationship phase.”

he’s quiet. you feel bad, but you want to communicate to make amends. it’s silly to have a grudge like this. “you like him.” he doesn’t ask, he says it as a fact.

“i do.”

“does he like you?”

“i sure hope so.” you laugh, trying to brighten the mood. “he’s taking me on an official date tonight to the movies, then he’s coming here.”

“cool.” he sighs. you frown at his dryness, but he notices instantly. “i just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“you know him better than me, nate. tell me, do you think he’ll hurt me at all?”

he shakes his head. “chris is a good best friend.”

“exactly, and you’re a good brother. at least try to talk to him, okay?” you get up from your chair to throw away the paper plate, going over to nate and giving him a hug around the shoulders.

despite the recent events, chris asked you out officially the other night. he told you that nate still hasn’t spoken a word to him, and you want that to change.

“we could’ve taken an uber. i feel bad that you have to drive.” chris says for at least the third time. you smile at him as you park the car in the cinema parking lot. “it’s fine, i promise.” you reply.

you guys walk into the theater, and get your tickets and popcorn (that chris pays for even though you told him not to.)

he has his pinky around yours as you guys walk to the assigned theater the employee tells you to go. “i’m really sorry about nate.” you blurt. “i talked to him at lunch and he seemed… better? i don’t know.”

chris chuckles. “i’m not worried about him. he’ll come around.”

the two of you enter the theater and take your seats. he takes you by surprise with a kiss on the cheek, but you blush anyway. “i swear.” he says, squeezing your hand tighter.

sibling🧍🧍‍♀️

tell chris i want to talk to him when he gets here

nate sent that text when you were driving, and now you and chris are staring at it as you sit in the car in the driveway. “oh boy.” chris exhales and you giggle.

you guys get out of the car and head inside, your brother sitting on the couch watching TV. he turns his head when he hears the door shut.

he pauses the TV and gets up, walking in front of chris. it feels kind of intimidating.

he clears his throat. “i give you my blessing.”

you and chris side-eye each other at the word choice, trying not to laugh. “just don’t be an asshole, and when you guys go hang out upstairs don’t… ew. at least not when i’m in the house.” he pauses to look at your sniggering faces, but he smiles. “please.”

nate extends his hand so chris can take it, and he does. “deal.” chris says.

he lets you be and goes back to watching TV while you start to go upstairs.

chris looks over at you, who’s already looking at him. “told you he’ll come around.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @bernardsgf @ilovechrissturniolosposts @braindead4l @sturnifyed

[skiiyoomin]

HELLO! Can you write a denki x goth!reader? Reader has a shadow quirk that makes her unable to fully walk into the sun without a umbrella and looks a bit eerie but is a sweetheart, totally sun and moon couple vibes 🌒. I'm sorry If this is too especific, you can ignore If you want to!!!

ღDenki with a goth s/o

ʚCont: gn! reader, goth reader, mention of golden retriever and black cat trope, swearing, mentions of goth culture (im very uncultured in it so i apologize if i made a mistake)

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Opposites attract is the definition of your relationship. He´s the sun, you´re the moon. The perfect duo, is what people say. And it´s true. You complement each other so well, it creates a perfect balance in your relationship. The dynamic is a lot like Beast boy and Raven. He´s always bounding with energy whereas you´re reserved and on the chill side of things.

When Denki first laid eyes on you, he was a little intimidated if he was being honest. He couldn´t help it! You looked so scary and eerie he thought you were gonna gauge his eyes out or something. That all changed when you saved him during the U.S.J incident. It all happened so quick, a flash of moments that became a blur. But the moment that was engraved in his memories was your worried face asking if he was okay. Did he fall in love instantly? Maybe.

His perception of you definitely did a 180 since then. And honestly, he felt a little guilty for assuming you were mean in the first place. Nevertheless, he opened up later on to the idea of getting to know you. It started off when he attempted to bake a thank you cake for saving him. Turns out, you don´t like sweet things. But don´t fret! Denki does not lose his determination. So instead, he arranged a bouquet of flowers. You were allergic to one of them. Now he was starting to grow frustrated. Attempt after attempt slowly beated down his hopes of doing something nice for you (you appreciated everything even if Denki deemed it unsuitable, he needed perfection). At last, luck took pity on him and presented the perfect opportunity. He caught onto a snippet of a conversation you were having with Jirou. You were rambling about a book you had been saving up for. That´s it! He´ll get you the book.

"Denki? Are you okay?"

You ask a frenzied looking Denki who knocked on your door at 11PM.

"I have it" He pants with his hands on his knees. You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Have what?"

A shaky hand holds up a brand new copy of the book you had been eyeing for a while. "The book you wanted" He wheezes. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Just to what lengths did Denki go to buy the book and appear at your door looking like he ran a marathon?Your silence must have been long because he stood back him, a nervous smile on his lips as he pushes the book into your hand.

"I-wow, thank you" You managed to sputter at last. But before you could manage another word, he was already rushing down the hallway, a furious blush on his cheeks.

Ever since then he´s attached to your hip. He saw you the next day reading the book (that he gifted which was no small matter in his eyes), and the soft smile you sent his way when you made eye contact was enough to send him to heaven and above.

He stuck to your side like glue, constantly asking questions about the things you like and whatnot. And trust me when I say he became whipped real quick. The heart eyes were obvious, he was not fooling anyone. Going back to the whole Beast Boy and Raven dynamic, Denki is a very flirty guy. And the fact that he likes you boosts that to a million. He´s always using some cheesy pick up line or trying to do boyfriend things. He makes his crush on you obvious and he has no shame in it. And even though you act like you hate it, you both know you don´t. After all, if you hated it, you would´ve pushed him away long ago.

At this point, everyone was counting down the days until you finally got together. When it finally happened everyone was ecsatic because yay! no more annoying crushing Denki. But they soon regretted it because Denki with a partner is a million times more annoying.

He´s always showing you off with a proud giddy smile. Because you´re his. His partner and no one elses. Loves loves loves kissing you and hugging you. He´s a very physically affectionate person. Basically a golden retriever and you´re the black cat. He always has that lovesick puppy eyed look, like a puppy sitting by their owners feet, waiting to be acknowledged. That´s how he is with you, and when you do give him attention, he´s over the moon. He´s very vocal about his love for you and could spend hours listing off all the things he likes about you. The squad can not take it any longer.

He worships the ground you walk on you´re goddess, he´s your biggest supporter. So trust when I say he does not take any slander directed towards you. He zaps people who look at you the wrong way.

Also! Last but not least, having a goth partner means his eyes open up to the whole goth culture. Ever since he became friends with you he took an interest in your clothing style, the music you listen to, the make up style. Basically anything, and he definitely binge read anything having to do with goth culture just so he´d look cool and all knowimg when you talk to him. You ended up having to teach him yourself but you appreciated the effort either way.

All in all, Denki is the best boyfriend. End of speech.

[mamasturn]

send you away, major gale cleven

pairing: major gale cleven (masters of the air) x black fem oc (eden marie cleven)

content: eden is anxious about having to be separated from her husband when he reveals that he has to serve in England.

an: I was burnt out from writing elvis content, but, now we're on masters of the air content, yay!

“I’m sorry, baby, but I gotta go.” His voice was a song sung by an old church choir; soothing, warm like her mama’s hugs, then it got disruptive. Like the snares of the drums as the song reached a climax. “They need us in England.” 

The pained look on her face would be engrained in his mind forever. There would be no way for him to forget it. Her thick eyebrows eat in a deep frown, pushing the rest of her features further down. Her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, glistened with tears. She refused to blink. The gentle rivers would transition to monstrous waterfalls with no dam to keep them at bay. And her lips, full and swollen from tender kisses, quivered as she clenched her jaw to keep her composure. 

“For how long?” Her voice was quiet. Gale sighed heavily and ran a heavy hand through his hair. If he had an answer, he’d give it to her. But, his silence spoke loud enough. She hummed and brushed his hand off her lap and began to trudge upstairs. A defeated sigh came from him. 

“E,” Gale called out. He followed her up the wooden steps. “Eden!” 

His large hand palmed their bedroom door that threatened to push him out. The lamp on her side of the bed was on, the blankets on the left side were pulled back, and she stood in front of the mounted mirror brushing her freshly pressed hair. Her sad expression had morphed into one like stone. He could see her jaw tick as each second passed. 

Gale took slow steps toward her. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Her husband, whom she’d only been married to for six months, was being shipped off to England to assist them in bringing down Germany. How coulde she not be upset? 

Gale stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His advances didn’t keep her from wrapping her hair and tossing her satin scarf around her head. He leaned down, nose brushing against the shell of her ear. Eden’s breath hitched. His lips followed, pecking at the sensitive area below her ear. He pulled at her skin with his teeth and she whimpered softly, her hand falling on top of his. “Gale…” A warning. 

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said after some time. “I knew what I got into when I married you but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared, Gale!” Finally, she turned to meet his gaze. So big and blue, they were. Filled with sympathy and remorse. 

“I knew what I was getting into when I married you, but still! I gotta send my husband away and I don’t want to think about the day where someone could knock on the door telling me--”

Gale shushed her softly and pressed her body against his in a tight embrace. His warm hand gripped her chin and tapped softly. She met his eyes. “So let’s not think about that. I leave in three weeks. We’re gonna focus on making these three weeks worthwhile, and we’ll cross the other bridge when we get to it. But I’ll always be with you one way or another, you know that, darlin’. You do know that, don’t you?”

Eden nodded. Gale raised an eyebrow. “I know, baby.” 

Gale hummed and drew invisible lines along the bare skin other thigh. The lace of her slip tickled her leg. His hand inched up slowly. “How about we practice for that final send off?” 

Eden smiled knowingly and broke away from him, peeling the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders her bare body on display. “C’mon, we’ve got all night.” 

All night indeed.

[rekino2114]

ok hear me out female Zenitsu Agatsuma simping for male reader

Fem. Zenitsu simping for male reader

A/n:art by stormin on pinterest. Zenitsu's name will stay the same...I don't know if that makes sense but I can't think of anything

You took a deep breath as you looked around you. You were finally back after a long mission, and you wanted nothing more than to relax

"Oh hey y/n!, you're back, how was the mission?"

"Hi tanjiro, it went well. The demon wasn't that strong, but it was still kinda tough. Do you know where Shinobu is?"

"Oh, she's probab-"

"Y/NNNNNNNN!!!!!!"

You two turned to see the rest of the kamaboko squad coming towards you, especially zenitsu who ran and tackled you into a hug

"I'm so happy you're back, I thought the demon ate you"

"Come on, zenitsu, did you think so little of me? No demon that weak could take me down"

"Y-yeah sorry, you're so strong, the strongest demon slayer I've ever seen, no demon could defeat you"

You blushed slightly from the praise and was about to thank her when you heard a groan

"Hmph! W/n (wrong name) Isn't that strong, I bet I could beat him in no time"

"Shut up, boar head, you don't know what you're talking about, y/n would wipe the floor with you"

"Really? Now I'm interested, hey w/n let's spar!"

".....A-actually, I just came back from a mission and-"

"Yeah leave him alone, y/n's probably so tired"

"Who cares? I wanna fight"

"I-inosuke, zenitsu, please calm down"

As tanjiro tried his best to calm the argument between his friends, you walked near genya and kanao

"Hi man, good to see you again"

"Hi, genya you too. kanao, do you mind telling me where your sister is?"

"...........Shinobu should be in the butterfly mansion, she's tending to other injured slayers"

"You didn't even use your coin, that's great, I'm proud of you"

You pat the shorter girl's head as she smiled slightly and you left to go where she told you, while you couldn't hear the commotion going on behind you

"Waaaaaaahhhhh *sobs*"

"Z-zenitsu what's going on?"

"D-did you see what y/n did to kanao, he pat her head, he never did that to me *sobs* y/n loves kanao"

"That's not true, y/n does not love me"

"*sobs* How dare you say that? Why did he do that then?"

"Oh it was because I didn't flip my coin to answer him"

"...........really?"

"Yeah, I can confirm that's what happened"

The blonde girl completely changed her attitude and jumped in the air

"Yay! That means I still have a chance"

"Sorry zenitsu, but might I say something? If you love y/n this much, why don't you just tell him?"

"Are you crazy? If I tell him and he doesn't reciprocate then I'll never be able to look him in the eyes again"

"........I.....see"

"Coward"

"Hey!......anyway, w-where did y/n go?"

"The butterfly mansion"

"Really? Great!"

Zenitsu disappeared so fast her friends thought she used her thunder breathing for a second

"Why did she go there anyway?"

"No idea"

Meanwhile in the butterfly mansion Shinobu was checking your wounds while you lied on a bed

"Alright y/n, if you're OK with that, do you mind taking your shirt off for me? I need to check if you have other injuries"

"Sure thing"

You did as she told you, but in that moment, you heard a squeal and the sound of something falling

"Hm? What was that?"

"I don't know, I'll check later"

"Ok"

Meanwhile on the other side of the door tanjiro found zenitsu on the ground with a bloody nose

"S-so muscular, I think I'm in heaven"

"........we really need to work on that"

[cottoncandyhairedrgodess]

OKK SEASON 2 CHAOS THEORY PICS LETS GOOOO

thank you jwct crew!!

I can’t really analyze that much out of the new pics they gave us

BUT we can see they all ditched the jackets - which could probably be cuz it’s humid or hot but it’s also likely they used it to patch up something (like they did for the bathing suits and the boat)

at first i thought they were at an island again (GIVE THEM A BREAK) but the boat prob took them to another country or something. I don’t get why going back to isla nublar would work with the plot we have so far (unless maybe the boat went there because of the labs?)

i also thought when i first saw it that they got an outfit change and was like “yay new outfits!!” but apparently not which also leads me to think that wherever the boat took them is where they’re gonna be for most (maybe even all of the season)

WHICH BRINGS US TO THE OTHER PIC

They all definitely have different reactions towards this person so I’m gonna write the way it looks to me

Darius : He’s the only one not looking at the person and instead looking at the weapon? Which makes me think that this isn’t their first reaction of whatever this is (ik that sounds confusing imma explain it again later.) Darius’s face also looks kinda confused and a little shocked? Which is interesting to me

Sammy: she looks scared. Terrified even. Someone also says she looks betrayed which i can def see. This reaction is also a lil confusing to me because most of the other times someone was threatening them she a determined look or was ready to kick them but she looks horrified in this so huh

yaz: she looks shocked not rlly scared like Sammy but just shocked. She doesn’t have as much as a strong reaction as the others (except Ben) she looks suprised but why isn’t she as scared or angry as the others?

kenji : his reactions probably the easiest to red since he’s angry 💯 but why is he angry?? Yes the obvious answer is that someone’s threatening to attack them but everyone else isn’t as angry maybe he knows them? Also something else I noticed that his mouth is a little open so he’s probably saying something - side note why is kenjis face so triangular 😭

ben: honestly his face is prob the hardest to read because of how neutral it is?? Like obviously it’s not fully blank or calm but it’s def more neutral than the others. He looks a little wary maybe and a little angry like kenji. Honestly idk but he def isn’t happy or bursting with joy I can tell you that

okay so that was all the reactions I got from them in that picture

NOW ADRESSING SOME THEORIES I HEARD AND MY THEORIES

So I already saw people saying it could be Brooklyn which I can see but at the same time also not? like #1 why is Brooklyn holding a weapon against them (unless she’s going through her evil arc lmao #2 wouldn’t they all be shocked or happy even? But that also leads into the thing I was saying before that this might not be their first reaction

and what I meant by not first reaction is not that this isnt the first time they saw this person (it could be tho) but that this is a few secs in or something into the scene when they encounter this person. Like it could be long enough that most of their initial shock or happiness is gone and now their like why is Brooklyn trying to attack us and if it was this then the reactions would prob make sense like Sammy’s betrayed face and kenji being angry

GODDAMN I JUST REALIZED HOW LONG THIS IS OMG

sorry, continuing on to another theory

it could also be the uncanny raptor girl maybe?? (She’s called the handler right?) but then again I don’t think so because first of all she doesn’t attack them directly and wouldn’t come so close and usually attacks with her raptors so it wouldn’t make sense if she was the one holding the weapon

This brings us to my final theory-ish (more of an idea) of today which is that it’s someone that they know (even if it’s not Brooklyn) because of the way their reacting because honestly if it’s only one person then they have strength in numbers like?they shouldn’t be so scared or angry if it’s only one person who’s a bitch and trying to kill em. Maybe it’s someone kenji or Sammy know based on them having the strongest reactions out of the group (someone from mantah corp?) or maybe it could be someone from jwcc, maybe it’s even someone who we thought was dead and isn’t actually dead

so to sum it all up, for the second pic I think the person holding the weapon is someone they already knew due to all their reactions

KUDOS TO ANYONE WHO READ ALL THIS 😭

[izznts]

NEW STORY YAY

After so long, a story is now in your arms, even after all the lovely comms I bought from artists and shared with you, NOTHING will take me from writing HAHAHAHA.

I am grateful for @gurren42 for also being a great friend and writing with me this piece with his oc Leo Marilyn who is now canon in my verse. The nerdy man of wisdom. Please enjoy what we have shared and more to come!

Barista To-Go!

“Could I get a name for the order?” The cute barista asked, subtly adjusting his work apron, hoping his nametag ‘Leo’ would be obvious to the tan, handsome man that stood on the other side of the counter.  

“Sol, S- O -L,” he grumbled, his name obviously misspelled frequently.

“Sure thing, Sol! Your order will be up soon!” Leo said chipperly as he went about crafting the espresso-heavy drink mixed with protein powder and ice. His last order of the day and his face was flushed as he thought of the large man he had been talking to. Flirting with a little. 

He glanced over at the athletic Sol leaning back against a wall as he stretched his arms over his head. His biceps bulged even through the light blue hoodie he wore. Leo’s gaze drifted down to the exposed few inches of belly above his gray sweatpants, admiring the toned abdominal muscles and faint treasure trail. He smirked and softly murmured an appreciative “mmm” to himself. He again adjusted his apron, this time for a different reason as he finished mixing the drink and went to the pickup counter. “Order for Sol!” He said with a smile, sliding the cool drink across the counter.

Sol walked up, took the coffee wordlessly with a faint, tired smile and a nod, and walked over to a table by the window and began to sip, idly looking out as though he was expecting someone. Leo watched the man sit down at the table, as he took off his apron and got ready to clock out. He made himself an iced blueberry latte  with an extra couple pumps of cherry syrup.

As Leo was leaving his job, his coffee in hand, he fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his notifications to catch up. Out of habit he opened the door and walked out, bumping headlong into someone. The cold chill of dread as first he felt the sensation of his hand being wet from his drink and then he looked down to see that he had indeed splashed almost all of it onto this poor stranger. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, sir,” Leo frantically tried to apologize, cringing as he noticed how expensive those clothes looked. The well-dressed stranger seemed more concerned with the distressed barista than the stained clothes.

“Hey, hey,” he said in a disarming tone, “it's alright. Accidents happen. I guess it’s a good thing I brought extra clothes today. Be right back.” The stranger chuckled lightly and went back to his vehicle to get his clothes. He returned shortly with a different, comfortable set and went inside to use the restroom to change. Leo waited inside to apologize further, but his anxious thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.  

“What the hell did you do to my boyfriend?” Sol asked angrily, Leo was shocked at the sudden anger, only stutters escaping his mouth as he tried to explain. 

“I-it w-was an accident, I-I was just trying to leave!” Leo said in defense. Sol gritted his teeth as he got closer, backing Leo into a wall.

“Sol! Don't you even think about it!” A stern voice from across the cafe as the newly dressed stranger  walked up and pulled at Sol’s arm, creating some space between the intimidating figure and the wide-eyed Leo.

“Izzy, are you serious right now? He spilt his dumb coffee on your clothes!” Sol retorted, glaring daggers at Leo. 

“It was my fault for not paying attention, accidents happen, so please, don't act out.” Izzy pleaded softly. Sol stood there a moment unmoving before finally he huffed as he walked past him back to his seat from before. 

Leo looked at Izzy and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“It's alright, I'm sorry for that, he gets very protective,” He tried to apologize, Leo chuckled softly as he avoided eye contact. 

“It's fine, I should've been more careful with my drink.” Leo said quietly. Izzy looked over to see Sol looking out the window in the seat he chose for them. Izzy looked back at Leo and noticed his hoodie had the logo of one of his favorite games.

"So, uh…I play Overnight too," Izzy said casually, making Leo smile widely as he noticed that the stranger looked at his hoodie.

"Really?! It’s one of my favorites actually! We should play sometime," Leo said, immediately realizing what he just asked and awkwardly blushed. 

Izzy chuckled. "Sure, how about tonight?We actually planned game-night with him and the others," he answered softly, and extended a hand. “Come on, let's take a seat.” Izzy gestured, Leo tilted his head and nervously took Izzy's hand as he walked and dragged him to the seat quickly. Sol looked at them, facing away from the window, raising an eyebrow. 

Sol gave an up and down look at the barista from earlier, lightly scoffed to himself as he saw the tall man with his lover, looking as if they instantly became best friends from the simple incident. 

“What? You're making me fully apologize now?” Sol grumbled Izzy glared before looking at Leo, letting him sit down in front of Sol as Izzy moved next to Sol. 

“You need to stop, seriously.” Izzy said in a frustrated but gentle tone, wrapping Sol's muscular arms over his shoulder and began rubbing small circles on the muscular hand. Sol sighed as he relaxed a little more, eventually giving a small peck on the top of his lover's head.  

He sat up straight and looked directly at Leo.Sol's assessing stare made Leo kind of wilt, his confidence decreasing. "So....uh, he's your--"

"Boyfriend, yes," Sol interrupted, then folded his large hands together and leaned in slightly. "And you... I assume... are single?"

Leo flushed slightly and nodded. "New to town actually. Starting fresh, new friends, new job...living out of a closet," he chuckled at his joke that wasn't far from the truth.

“Ah, moved because of your sexuality?” Sol asked curiously, raising a slight eyebrow. Leo shook his head, hiding a slight and embarrassed chuckle. 

"Hey, not that kind of closet, though I am out and proud," rolling his sleeve up slightly to show a small rainbow heart tattoo. "Anyways," he continued, "the people are nice enough for a bigger city. I'm used to maybe ....a tenth the population. But there's plenty to do here and plenty of cuties. Cuties into video games specifically" He inquired gently flirting as he looked back and forth at the two. 

"Careful," Sol cautioned, "but yes, Izzy here plays when he has the time." Sol leaned over and wrapped a muscled arm around his smaller, slender lover.

"Sometimes Sol plays them too, but he's a sore loser." Izzy teased, rubbing his thumb on top of Sol's hand , which was wrapped around him. Sol rolled his eyes as he purposefully and gently squeezed Izzy's side, making him squeak in surprise. 

Leo smiled widely at the answer. "What games do you play?" Leo asked Sol. Sol looked at Izzy with an eyebrow raise, shrugging.

“I usually just play Overnight casually. It’s a fun game when I’m not competitive.” Sol answered softly.

“You’ll see tonight at game night!” Izzy chimed in, Sol looked at him wide-eyed. 

"Babe, that's the same time the others are coming back home." Sol answered.

"Hmmm, then he'll get to meet them all. I'm sure he’ll… fit in just fine," Izzy said, elbowing Sol subtly and chuckling. "What role do you play, Leo?" Izzy leaned forward in genuine interest, his brown eyes curious. 

"Support typically!" Leo beamed proudly. "Charity is my main usually. Like to be the healer, you know?”

"Charity is alright, been more of a Noir main." Izzy said softly with a light chuckle, Sol looked at both Izzy and Leo, honestly admiring the connection and bond between the two, despite the incident. 

Sol noticed the time, having to keep watch for Izzy as he gets distracted. "Babe, doesn't your collection campaign meeting start in the next hour? You might need to get ready, traffic looks bad," Sol said. Izzy looked and  softly sighed to himself, having blissfully forgotten. 

"I wish I could stay longer, but I do need to leave. It's been nice meeting you Leo, can't wait to see you again!" Izzy said as he got up, giving a kiss on Sol's cheek before heading out.

"See ya , Izzy!" Leo called after him. "Guess I'll get going then, you take care of him, Sol. You've got my number for the meetup?" Sol nodded and patted his pocket where he'd folded it up and put it. 

Leo smiled as he got up from his seat and headed out the door, beginning his walk home. He placed his giant headphones on his head, listening to his favorite tunes. The scenery was active, cars driving around, bicyclists racing each other playfully, animals strolling around. He lightly smiled when he noticed a black cat follow him as it kept meowing. 

“Are you trying to find a new home, buddy?” Leo chuckled as he knelt down to pet it. As he tried to, the cat sprinted away, looking back and meowing once more before heading off. Leo smiled as he shook his head in a relaxed, joking manner. About to turn around to continue his path home, he saw Sol turning the corner the cat passed. 

He raised an eyebrow as he watched Sol casually walk at a brisk pace to him. Taking his headphones off, he placed them into his bag he carried from work. “Sol? Do you live nearby?” He asked him, Sol shrugged nonchalantly as he curiously inspected the figure in front of him. 

 "Leo, mind walking with me? I forgot to get your number to meet up later," he said as he resumed a normal stride. His stomach rumbled loudly, loudly enough for Leo to hear. 

"Oh sure! Also are you hungry? We can stop in a snack store quickly if you–"

"I’ll eat something when I get home, no worries.” Sol interrupted, keeping the conversation as short and straightforward as possible as they exchanged numbers.

Leo raised an eyebrow as he awkwardly nodded. He looked around the area, trying to spark some sort of conversation with him. “So…uh, when did you and Izzy start dating?” Leo asked curiously, Sol looked at him, a little surprised.

“Shit, it’s been a year with him really. We’ve both grown a lot since he took me in.” Sol answered, his eyes gleamed as he spoke highly of his lover. Leo smiled lightly as he continued to walk down the sidewalk. 

Leo’s apartment was several extra minutes away, he saw an empty bench that was shaded by trees that he guided them towards. Leo sat down on the bench, Sol sitting next to him as they admired the lively neighborhood.

“Are you sure you don't want to get something to eat now? Your stomach has been adding to the conversation a bunch.” Leo mentioned, Sol shrugged it off with a light chuckle. 

“Shit, I need to absolutely stuff myself full, I could eat a horse. Hell, I could probably eat someone if I wanted to.” Sol said with a cocky smirk. Leo raised an eyebrow at that statement, confused and slightly aroused. 

“There’s no way he could… right? Is he a pred?” He thought to himself, he looked over at Sol with an expression of extreme curiosity. 

“What do you mean by that Sol?” Leo asked, Sol smirked as he lifted his sweatshirt-hoodie up, exposing his toned abs. He casually pushed out his stomach for emphasis, making his abs now round out to a basketball-size stomach.

“I like to eat a lot, and I tend to feast more than I need to.” Sol said teasingly; he gestured to Leo to cop a feel as he moved himself to face him a bit. His belly still pushed out for Leo to feel. 

Leo blushed as he looked around to see if anyone nearby was looking. Sol rolled his eyes before gently taking Leo’s hand and placing it on his stomach. Leo felt the taut yet smooth stomach that Sol teasingly displayed for him. 

“Does it feel good?” Sol asked, Leo could only nod as he was too focused.

Sol chuckled as he was looking for somewhere that hid the both of them from view. He noticed an alley, making him look back at Leo who continued to rub his stomach, pushing his head gently down to place Leo’s ear against his stomach to hear the rumbling and bubbling and churning just below the surface.  

“Hey, follow me real quick.” Sol gestured as he relaxed, his stomach going back to its toned abs as he got up from the bench. Leo looked at him confusingly as he pulled down his sweatshirt-hoodie as he walked away. 

Leo awkwardly got up and followed suit, seeing Sol go into the alley. It smelt damp as they vwalked deeper and deeper. Suddenly and gently yet dominantly, Sol firmly grabbed Leo’s shoulder and placed him against the alley-wall.

"S-Sol?! What are you doing?" Leo asked, Sol leaned closer as he loomed over Leo, licking his lips hungrily. Sol slightly leaned down and put a finger over Leo's lips to gently shush him. 

"I'm not gonna hurt you, I need a favor from you.” He whispered as he glanced down to see Leo's pants tented. He looked up and cocked a smirk as he whispered into his ear. 

“Remember when I said I could eat a person? Why don’t you let me eat you?” Sol teased as he licked Leo’s ear gently. Leo instantly went red from arousal.

“Y-You’re able to do that?” He asked, the hunk smirked as he placed his hand onto his stomach, covered by the hooded-sweatshirt .

“Yep, do it all the time, you’ll be safe in here and I’ll let you out later on , I promise. Just let me take control and you'll be fine." His hot breath washed over Leo's face, gently rustling his longer brown hair.

Leo trembled, unaware what he truly meant as he blushed from Sol touching his hair. He felt slightly nervous, yet excited to try this out.

“Ok, I want to give this a try.” Leo said shyly, Sol smiled as he nodded, ruffling his hair in a friendly manner. He unhinged his jaw, opened wide, and engulfed Leo's head swiftly. Not even seconds later, Sol's hungry mouth started gulping Leo like spaghetti. 

Leo could feel himself being tugged inside the man’s hungry body like a snake. Soon he felt himself be lifted up off the ground, allowing gravity to assist him. 

Sol started inhaling and exhaling through his nose as he took each gulp, feeling his abs slowly swell outward, accommodating Leo into his space, Sol took one final gulp and felt his snack fully stretch his stomach to a comparable size of a yoga ball. 

As Leo sat inside Sol curled in the fetal position, Sol rubbed over his enlarged stomach that stretched out a couple feet. His hooded-sweatshirt not even attempting to cover the mass circumference of the belly.

"Damn, you tasted really good, I'm actually glad how things turned out this afternoon." Sol cooed as he rubbed over his belly lightly. The experience was entirely new but surprisingly pleasant for Leo, though he did notice that he was barefoot. Sol must have pulled his shoes and socks off masterfully. In fact, he felt the stomach clenching around him, tugging and pulling at his clothes.

Outside, Sol smiled as he felt his stomach rumble and he gently patted his chest with his fist and suddenly belched hard, sending Leo's pants flying into the to-go bag he'd already deposited his shoes into. Another belch after a minute or two yielded his shirt and underwear. And a last smaller belch for his drool-covered glasses. All safely stowed in the bag labeled 'Soul' incorrectly by the worker he'd rushed.

Sol strutted back to his house, belly bouncing and swaying with every footstep. His distended belly got some attention from bystanders as he walked past them. Some mumbles and cautious glances being directed to him. 

Making it to the mansion-like home, he opened the door entering into the house, closing the door behind him. Taking his shirt completely off as he waddled to the couch.

Sitting down on the couch, his belly sat in between his muscular thighs as he leaned back slightly. Rubbing his muscular hand over the curve of his belly, feeling Leo slightly move around within him. 

"Mmm , nothing but a nice, big ol ’ belly will do for me." Sol purred, patting his rotund gut satisfied. He slowly moved his finger to his bellybutton, fingering the cavernous navel. A soft burp lightly escaped his mouth, making him laugh to himself.

Leo felt everything, every little movement, every balancing tense of his core muscles to adjust to the shifted center of gravity, every pat and rub and now the exploratory prodding in his mid back from the outside. He wiggled and squirmed a bit at the new sensation, also trying to find a more comfortable position.

He eventually, with Sol's external help too, managed to slide around so his back was to Sol's back so he could more easily kick and stretch and rub, finding all the spots Sol liked.

"You're pretty good at this, you know? Are you sure this is your first time?" Sol asked, looking down at his rotund gut. 

"Y-yeah," Leo blushed fiercely, "I just have.... fantasized about this for a long time." He says shyly. 

Sol chuckled, bouncing him around behind the powerful abdominal muscles holding him in place. "Explore, Leo, explore,” the large man purred. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll keep you there longer for being good." Sol smacked the side of his stomach. He sat back and watched the bulges that were Leo shift and move about, testing and exploring these exciting new waters.

Leo started to push against the stomach walls with his hands, making a faint hand imprint near Sol's bellybutton. Sol bit his lip as he clenched his feet in arousal, feeling Leo adventure within him. 

"Ah fuck man, that was a very good spot there." Sol slightly moaned, rubbing over the imprint before pushing it back within his gut. 

It bounced a bit, making Sol reposition himself on the couch, opening his legs up more for the belly to fully lay in between his thighs.

Leo felt the two tree trunk impressions of Sol's thighs shift and allow more space as they moved higher or rather the belly lower. A new subtle throbbing pressed against him as he rested against the slightly aroused pred. 

He continued to rub and push out, stretching this way and getting various levels of response from Sol, all pleasurable as the space heated up some and he was slowly coated in all the drool the larger male had been swallowing down as his mouth watered due to his prey.

Sol gripped both sides of his stomach, giving it a firm shake. “Better be careful~ I might just hog you all to myself.” Sol cooed as he lifted his gut to his chest slightly, letting go as it bounced back onto his muscular thighs.

To Leo this felt like a big hug as the space tightened and was lifted, feeling strong muscular arms and large powerful hands caressing him then he dropped and bounced, sliding around in the slippery stomach changing position. 

His head was now behind Sol's navel as he huffed while Leo lay on his back in Sol's lap separated from the thick thighs by layers of Sol but his outline could be subtly made out in the  tight gut as Sol went back to playing with his navel, teasing Leo's head within.

Sol got up from the couch and waddled towards the nearest wall, grinding his gut into it.

"Shit, if Izzy were here I would have pounded his ass already.”  Sol roared in arousal as he smacked the sides of his gut.

"Is this what happens to preds after they eat? They get easily riled up? I thought that was just in adult films?” Leo asked genuinely, equally aroused but hiding it from the pred in the dark belly as Sol went to town trying to cool down his pent-up sexual frustration, but Leo kept hitting all his sensitive spots, intentionally or not.

Sol growled lustfully as he kept grinding into the wall with his belly. Something urgently rubbed uncomfortably in his shorts that wanted, demanded release. 

"I just need... Izzy..." Sol says panting to himself as he thought about the noises Izzy would make. His mind was filled with thoughts of the feeling of Izzy’s slender hands gripping and holding onto his gut for dear life as the hunk would pound, each thrust pure ecstacy for both.

The husky growling and the rising temperature of the situation both literally and figuratively had Leo panting and wishing Izzy were here now too as his hands wandered and the rhythmic motions Sol made definitely made it hard for him to think. Simmering inside the powerful pred, he asked in a brief moment of clarity "How ....long. ... until he's back?"

Sol thrust upward long and slow as he slowly regained control and thought a bit. "About two hours, " he huffed, panting gently with aching arousal. "Fuck…need a cold shower then," he grunted and began half-waddling off to his room to do so.

Sol went to his own bedroom, taking off his clothes completely, a slap as his length hit the underbelly of his dome as he walked to the bathroom.

He waddled over and started the shower with cold water. Getting in, he felt the cold water hit the smooth curve of his stomach. Relaxing and letting his riled up thoughts subside as he hummed light tunes to himself idly. Grabbing soap to wash himself, he scrubbed all over his body and belly, covering himself with a fresh lavender scent. 

After several minutes in the shower, he got out and wrapped a towel on his lower waist where his belly hung. 

“Alright bud, I enjoyed you there but I’m gonna let you out so you can shower. I’ll wash your clothes and I believe someone here has spare ones for you that will fit you” Sol said, rubbing the upper curve of his gut in big circles. 

“Aww, but I wanted to stay here a little longer.” Leo lightly whined, Sol chuckled as he gave his gut a little jostle with his muscular hands. 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Sol promised. 

Leo felt himself, weirdly slide out of Sol’s mouth, deposited onto the cold bathroom floors, covered in saliva. Sol chuckled as he placed an extra towel for him to dry himself with. Walking off out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. 

Leo got into the shower and turned on luke -warm water that gently hit his skin. Grabbing soap and washing off all the saliva and juices from the stomach that came out with him. He had felt very safe, comfortable even within him. 

Leo’s mind replayed everything over and over, as he continued to shower and hum softly to himself. “ I’m really glad I met these two ,” he thought with a fond smile of the adventures to come. 

[devskindawritingblog]

Hey! Can I request adult misty quigley x fem reader? And also can they kinda have an age gap? (Teehee)

Basically Misty obviously has a thing for needing people to want her and need her and feel important so her very codependent partner comes up with a way to make her feel better by letting Misty treat fake injuries on her? Like idk putting ketchup on her arm and misty bandaging her up and all that to keep herself feeling sane

Click to help Palestine 🇵🇸 🍉

Bandages

Older Misty x reader

AN: hiiiii im so sorry this took so long. I’ve be busy with school and stuff in my personally life but it’s finally out yay. Misty’s text is in yellow I think that’s the colour I originally picked for her. Divider made by @arachnid-wife

word count rounded: 1k

You and Misty first met when your grandmother lived at the nursing home that Misty worked at. You would visit your grandmother once a week. Misty was usually the nurse that helped with her, so you would see her often.

The both of you got very close, so close that you would go out for coffee together every other weekend. It was mostly about your grandmother, but after a while, the conversations turned flirty. You would spend more and more time with her. Soon, she finally asked you out. You went on a few actual dates with her. After a while, you made it official with her. She asked you to move in with her and Caligula. You accept, of course. That was a few years ago, and after all that time with Misty, you started to notice little things about her.

The first time you started noticing was when you accidentally cut your finger while chopping something with a knife.

You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and chatting with Misty. You guys were going to have a holiday party with the yellow jackets. You and Misty were chatting and making jokes when you looked over your shoulder, and that's when you felt it. A sharp, searing pain in your pointer finger. You wince and gasp, turning back to see your finger. You drop the knife and lift your hand. 

“Oh my gosh!!!” Misty rushes over and grabs a towel, wrapping your finger in it as you let out a huff in pain. “Fuck.” You sigh, groaning, as you lean against the counter.

You ended up having to go to the hospital to get it stitched up. Misty offered, but you were not going to let her sew up your finger at the house. You ended up being alright, and the party ended up actually happening, but instead you ordered some pizzas.

Misty spent the next few weeks keeping you in a bubble. Feeding you even though you cut your non-dominant hand. She would basically do anything for you if you needed to use your hands. She would check on your stitches every day and help clean them.

You really don't mind that she wants to take care of you. In fact, it's quite fun having her do things for you because she won't even hesitate. You want a glass of water? She’s on it. Food? Right away. Misty even spent a week helping you get dressed.

After your finger fully healed, you would notice a slight change in Misty. She wanted to keep helping, but there was nothing to do anymore. She felt like she was unneeded. You decided to talk to Misty one night while cuddling on the couch.

“Hey? You alright?”

“ Wha? Oh yeah, I'm alright, most alright ever." Misty says it sounds obnoxiously cheerful for someone who was pouting because you didn't need help making yourself toast this morning. You look over at her, giving her a smile that says, “I know you're not alright.” 

“It's, well, you know, I really loved taking care of you and feeling like I was useful.” 

“You're my girlfriend, Misty; you don't need to be "useful." I love you.” You say, kissing her cheek as she smiles back. “I know, but I guess it's my love language to help and to make you better.” She says she is pulling you into her arms and giving your healed finger a little kiss. 

“How about this? I'll let you patch me up and “nurse” me back to health whenever you want.”

“But I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

“What if we just pretend? You know, bandage up my fake cut or whatever else you want to do. If it makes you feel better, I really don't mind.” Misty's eyes light up, and she pulls you into a kiss.

From that day forward, it became just part of the two of you. Sure, it's an unusual way to cheer her up, but you don’t really mind. It always goes the same way: she “comforts” you and gives you kisses. Then she “disinfects” your “cut” and puts on a patterned bandage on it before “kissing it better." Misty claims that it's the most important part of the whole process.

One day Misty came home from work upset; it was just a very stressful day, and she needed to come home and see you. You're in the kitchen cooking after Misty finally lets you touch a knife without intense supervision. You hear the front door open and yell out. “Hi baby, how was work?” You say, looking over your shoulder to catch her taking off her jacket with a silent huff, not like herself at all.

She walks into the bedroom without saying a word and changes out of her scrubs. You put down whatever you were doing and follow Misty into your bedroom. “Hey? Baby? You ok? Bad day?” You ask, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug. “Long day.” Misty mutters, relaxing into your arms.

You pull away and smile softly. “I got a scrape on my knee earlier, babe, Wanna help?” You ask, sitting down on the bed and rolling up your pants to show her your perfectly fine, unscraped knee. Misty raises a brow. “There is no scrape on your knee, babe” Misty says, a little confused. 

“What? Misty? My knee hurts. Can you patch me up?” She finally smiles as she lets out a sigh. She understands what you're trying to do, and she grabs her little med kit. Misty kneels next to the bed, rolling up your pants until your knee is fully exposed. She grabs a little alcohol wipe and rubs it on your knee. 

“It might sting a little, babe.”

She grabs some bandage wrap, lifts your knee a bit off the bed, and wraps your knee up snugly. She finishes and gives you a little kiss on your bandaged knee. “All better, you get hurt a lot; you gotta be more careful.” You both smile and laugh a little as she pulls you into a kiss.

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Interlude 1: Rangi- Damn

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: M

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: (Future me edit: Phew! Glad you guys seemed to like the little twist at the end, was a little nervous ngl TT0TT Also YAY! I CAN FINALLY START SHARING THE RANGI CHAPTERS! *sobs* so excited and haha oh man now I’m nervous akfjskfdaj)

(back to past me:) Heyyyyyy it’s POV switch time, just like The Hunt For Kyoshi’s: The Hunter and The Hunted chapters :’D

I only had this POV flip planned so………u_u but hey! It’s like 3 chapters worth in one chapter so :’D Wait…3 chapters….. *looks at the length of this chapter vs the others* Oh someone save meeeeeee TT0TT Haha this is gonna be a long chapter-Oh wait I’m getting a call. Ahuh. Hmm. Yup… 27 pages????......AND YOU AREN’T DONE……. THREE CHAPTERS AND NOT ONE?! Ok We’re splitting this into three chapters sorry. :’D

I underestimated how much Rangi yaps. u_u Pining more than a damn pine tree.

Me from the future (again): *stumbles in* Heyyyyy-o. Oh boi. Um….yes. So….THIS chapter was supposed to be chapter 4, but then I changed it. :’D So like….just remember how these were written/structured: Kyoshi’s first 3 chapters, and then Rangi’s first three chapters, then chapters 4-6, then Rangi’s 4th chapter (that 4th chapter wasn’t originally going to exist too jaklfjds. Man this fic has been shuffled about more than a deck of cards kjfdslafjs

____

Rangi was an idiot. She couldn’t believe that she walked all the way down to the kitchen, and had forgotten to tell Kyoshi the one important news she wanted to relay to her! She cursed that Aoma girl and her cronies for bullying Kyoshi, because they’d distracted her as well. Instead of telling Kyoshi the good news of Master Kelsang returning from a relief mission early, she was trying to give the giant girl tips on how to defend herself.

All those tips falling on deaf ears, as usual. 

She slowly and silently made her way back down to the ruckus kitchen. She heard them from the hallway, something about singing a dirty song or something about unrequited love. She really hoped Kyoshi wasn’t still wasting her time down there. 

“Kyoshi next!” someone said, and the sound of Kyoshi’s name made Rangi stop on the stairs. “She’s never here, so let’s make the most of it!”

Rangi stood in the middle of the staircase, just out of sight from the kitchen. Unsure of what to do. On one hand, she was annoyed that her hunch was right, and Kyoshi was still down there. But on the other hand, she wondered if Kyoshi was going to join in. If she was going to sing. What her singing voice sounded like. What she was going to sing about. 

She stood there, heart thrumming in her chest to the beat of the kitchen appliances.

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul / they draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi’s eyes widened as she heard Kyoshi’s singing voice for the first time. It was such a lovely alto. Her voice was smooth, strong and rich. 

The kitchen howled. Someone clucked in disapproval. “Keep going, you naughty girl!” a voice shouted.

Oh, right, she supposed she should be listening to the lyrics. She shook her head, as much as she’d love to listen to Kyoshi’s voice. The song itself might give her an indication on if Kyoshi liked someone.

Let’s see, something about bronze and fire? Rangi’s heart leapt at the thought of the second description, but tapered it down. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. 

“I’ve got hair like the starless night / it sticks to my lips when I smile / I’ll wind it with yours and we’ll drift off course / in a ship touching hearts all the while.”

Kyoshi drummed on, more percussion started filling the air. And Rangi’s heart started to pound harder. Starless night. Black. A hand flew to her chest. Ok, now she couldn’t stop from getting ahead of herself. There were only a handful of people on the estate that had black hair, and she was one of them. 

“For the way I walk is a lantern lit / that leads you into the night / I’ll hold you close and love you the most / until our end is in sight.”

Rangi could feel the blood pounding in her ears, she could feel the blush covering her body. She knew she was beat red. Black hair, fire, light. Entangled hair. Wanting to hold and love them. Rangi leaned against the wall for support, and prayed. Prayed to every spirit imaginable. Prayed to every Avatar. Prayed that the person Kyoshi was talking about was her. Was Rangi. 

“It’s Rangi!” someone shouted. Rangi nearly leapt out of her skin. She stumbled back a few steps, fearing someone saw her. 

I thought I was out of sight!

“It is Rangi!”someone else cooed, the sound of kissing noises were heard.

“W-where?” Kyoshi asked, alarmed.

“Not in here, idiot!” a male voice said. “In your song! Just admit it, you just sang about Rangi.”

Rangi feared she was going to go into cardiac arrest. So she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t the only one who saw the resemblance between her and Kyoshi’s song. Now, would Kyoshi admit it? Should she admit it? What should Rangi do if she did?

A million questions spiraled in her mind. 

What she wanted to do right then and there was run down there and…. Take Kyoshi right where she stood? Take her hand and run off with her? Both? 

Rangi drew a breath as quietly as she could. At some point she’d forgotten how to breathe. No, no, she couldn’t act brashly. Kyoshi had to confirm. And….there were other obstacles Rangi may have to overcome if Kyoshi did confirm. 

Rangi, and the rest of the staff waited for Kyoshi’s answer.

“I-I, uh, I,” Kyoshi started. 

Did Kyoshi not mean to sing about Rangi? Did the kitchen staff guess wrong? Did Kyoshi think no one would be able to guess it was about Rangi? 

The wait was killing her.

“I, uh, I have to go get ready for my gifting duties,” Kyoshi said hurriedly, and the sound of movement could be heard.

Rangi jumped and sprinted up the stairs as fast as she could. She quickly ascended the stairs, scratching and clawing on all fours, unable to keep her balance. Surely she was not as silent as she’d wanted to be. As soon as she got to the top she dove through the open window on the other side of the hall from the stairs without thinking. 

She landed in the bushes, and sat there, under the windowsill out of view. Her hand over her mouth to stifle any noises. She heard Kyoshi finish ascending the staircase, and then run in the direction of her room.

Rangi sat there for a moment, trying to catch her breath, and to cool her features off. She didn’t need to be walking around with her face flushed the same color as her red armor.

She placed her forehead on her knees and breathed. She likes me? Does this mean she likes me? She thought to herself, unable to stop the hope rising in her chest. 

For the past two years she’d resigned herself into thinking Kyoshi wouldn’t like her back. That her crush would go unanswered. So this hope was dangerous, if she completely gave in then…. What if Kyoshi still didn't like her? What would she do then?

Rangi took a few more calming breaths, and then slapped her own cheeks. She needed to calm down. She had duties to attend to!

…but first, she should probably go wash her face in her room. The water might help cool it off.

She scrunched up her face into the signature Sei’naka- or maybe it was just the Fire Nation?- stoic look. No one would be able to tell what she was thinking if she kept it like this. 

She made sure now one was looking before she escaped out of the bushes, and ran to her own room.

________________

Rangi ran the cool towel over her face, it warmed almost instantly at the contact of her skin. She repeated the process about a dozen or so times until her reddened face had finally calmed down. 

She grabbed a nearby dry towel and dried her face off. When she finally pulled it away, she began inspecting her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, so she fixed it. Trying not to think of the lyrics.

She inspected her skin, it was back to the normal pale it usually was, only a slight red hue scattered across it. Her fingers brushed at her neck, then her jaw, then her cheeks and then they froze. Her gaze lingered on her eyes. Her bronze colored eyes. 

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul”

Rangi gasped, and pressed the towel into her face again. As if the pressure could stop the lyrics from forming in her mind. 

Kyoshi had been singing about her eyes. No! No, she needed to think rationally. Kyoshi might’ve been singing about her eyes. Might!

 “They draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi let out a muffled scream into the towel, her flush coming back red hot. Did Kyoshi really say her gaze was sinful? 

Have I been too obvious? Please tell me I haven’t been too obvious!

She thought about every longing look she thought she snuck and it caused her to do a little dance of embarrassment. Which led to her tripping over her own feet, and falling backwards onto the floor. 

Rangi’s face was still in the towel as she screamed and cringed into it with each memory that passed in her mind; kicking her legs on the floor all the while. It was a pathetic sight. If anyone were to walk in, that might be the final blow to her ego. She may never recover. Thankfully, there was nary a person in the estate that would just barge into Rangi’s room unannounced.

Rangi heard her door slide open with a click.

She slowly removed the towel to see a pair of familiar boots.

She looked up at her mother with absolute dismay. If anyone could or would see Rangi at her lowest and most vulnerable, her mother would always be there with a front row seat. 

Hei-Ran gazed down at her daughter with a deep frown. “What on earth are you doing?”

Breaking down. She thought. Rangi did her best to screw her face back into a stoic expression, the flush be damned. She stood up straight, inhaled, ready to give the excuse of her life. 

She exhaled…..and stared at her mother.

She had nothing. No excuse existed in this world that could’ve explained such disappointing behavior. It’d be better if she told her mother the truth, but she’d never do that. She feared what her mother might say or do if she mentioned her crush on Kyoshi.

Instead, she kept the staring contest up with her mother, until Hei-Ran finally broke it by pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, nevermind. I don’t think I want to know,” Hei-Ran conceded. Rangi was going to leave the biggest and bestest offering for the spirits when she had time. 

Rangi cleared her throat. “What brings you to my room, mother? Shouldn’t you be with Yun?”

Hei-Ran sighed, “Yes, but we are taking a break. However, it appears he wants his break extended. It seems he galavanted off somewhere.”

Rangi nodded. That sounded like her Avatar.

“And I was wondering if his bodyguard would know where he was,” Hei-Ran glared at her daughter.

Rangi stiffened. She’d been neglecting her duties for the day. To be fair, she didn’t necessarily have to bodyguard Yun when he was in the presence of his Sifus, but still. She was slacking.

“I’ll go and fetch him,” Rangi said with a bow.

“Good,” Hei-Ran replied, turning on her heel to leave. 

As she exited the door, a group of servants passed her room in the hall. “Did you see the Avatar?”

“Yeah I saw him on his way to the gifting room, you know where Kyoshi is!”

“How scandalous-Hey!”

Rangi practically barreled into her mother and the other maids as she passed, face pale in distress.

_____________

No! No no no no! Not the gifting room! Not those two alone!

Rangi’s mind was now screaming as she sprinted through the estate, she didn’t care if she looked like a spirit out of hell. She had to get to the gifting room, stat!

She was having a possibly amazing day, she didn’t need it to be ruined by the memories from around eight months ago. When she last left Yun and Kyoshi in a room together, alone. How they looked at each other. How Kyoshi sprinkled Fire Lilies over Yun’s face. How they….kissed. Or, almost kissed? Rangi didn’t know, she didn’t stick around to watch.

Rangi rounded the corner, she was running at the door with a full sprint. Body ready to catch them in the act this time, mind not as prepared.

She reached the door, stopped just in time, and slid the door open with a smooth click. 

She gazed at the two in front of her. Kyoshi and Yun were a respectable distance apart. Nothing nefarious happened this time. She sighed inwardly, and then remembered to keep her face in its stoic placement. She didn’t trust her real emotions at the moment. 

"Avatar." She bowed deeply and solemnly to Yun. Then she turned to Kyoshi, Kyoshi appeared more sullen than usual. “And you! You’ve barely made any prog-”

Rangi cut herself off and tore her eyes away from Kyoshi, looking around the room. Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh….it’s…. actually almost done.” She wasn’t expecting that….

Almost all the presents were in neat little piles, all that needed to be done was transfer them.

“I got here early….” she heard Kyoshi muttered. She wouldn’t look at Rangi at all. 

Rangi could feel her pulse race. Is it because of the song she sang? Is it true? Or is she just self-conscious because the kitchen staff had teased her? Questions began to fill Rangi’s mind once again.

“Yeah Rangi,” Yun laughed. “This is Kyoshi we’re talking about, how dare you question her skill of working fast and efficiently?”

Rangi turned on her heel to face the Avatar, glaring at him. He was throwing her under the bus in front of Kyoshi! Again! “D-don’t put words in my mouth! I simply thought due to the volume that came in, and the fact you are skipping training to be a distraction, she may not have gotten as far as she did.”

“Well, I left the kitchen as soon as possible and got to work, just like you wanted,” Kyoshi mumbled. 

Rangi looked back, and Kyoshi had a slight glower on her face. She could feel her palms getting sweaty. Had Rangi upset her? Had she been upset before Rangi arrived? More millions of questions flew through her mind. Too many, she didn’t know which ones to ask first.

Kyoshi looked back at them, eyes widened a little, and then scratched her nose in embarrassment. “Did I say something wrong?”

Rangi stared at Kyoshi, trying to read her but found it too difficult. She looked down at her feet in defeat.  “No… it’s just….” Do you like me? Do you hate me? Do I upset you? So many questions.

“I think Kyoshi’s just a little nervous,” Yun announced.

Was it because of the song? How did he know about it? Did gossip already spread? Wait, if he knows about it then-

“I just asked her to join the Fifth Nation signing and she agreed to go,” he continued calmly.

Rangi’s train of thought came to a crashing halt when she heard him finish his sentence. Kyoshi was…..coming with them? To the daofei meeting. Sweet, innocent, never seen combat before, Kyoshi. She was going to go to a possible battleground. A war. A maid who has never held a weapon in her life, and might have to fight to the death. Her Kyoshi.

Rangi turned on Yun, glaring at him with the heat of a thousand suns. “Wh-what?! What do you mean she’s going?!”

“I was going to tell you,” Yun smiled, putting his hands up in surrender. 

Rangi spluttered and looked between Yun and Kyoshi. Why wasn’t Kyoshi saying anything? Did he pressure her into it? Was she stupid?! Did she not realize how dangerous this was? 

“Have you lost your mind? The both of you? She’s not going!” Rangi couldn’t believe she had to say those words aloud.

“Are you going against your Avatar’s wishes?” Yun grinned at her, his tone was joking. He didn’t mean it. But it hit Rangi like she’d been run over by a komodo rhino. Because that’s exactly what she was doing. She was disobeying the Avatar, to keep the girl she was in love with from harm. “Calm down, it’ll be good to have her there.”

“Good for who?” Rangi groused. He was being selfish again, thinking only of himself and not Kyoshi’s well being. No she couldn’t assume that! He was the Avatar. The Avatar was always well meaning. Maybe he just….didn’t realize the risk? Yes, that’s what it was. She just needed to talk some sense into him!

She pressed a fist to her forehead and sighed. Then she glared at Yun and grabbed his sleeve. “We’re talking about this later. Right now, I’m taking you back to your training!”

She started to pull her charge towards the door.

“Gah! Rangi! Wait!” Yun bemoaned. 

Rangi practically threw the Avatar through the doorway in front of her, and then stopped with her hand on the doorframe. She looked back at Kyoshi. Kyoshi sat there with the same calm and beautiful, silent strength she knew the girl possessed. She didn’t want to see it destroyed by some daofei. She wanted her protected. She hated the idea of some dumb bullies harming the girl, but if that pirate laid a hand on her-!

Rangi gripped the doorframe slightly. She looked around the room, trying to find something for Kyoshi to do. “And you-! Clean-no. Just. Gah. Do whatever you were doing!”

Apparently she couldn’t find anything. So she just slammed the door behind her.

____________

Rangi was greeted by Kyoshi with a scream to the face. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyoshi gasped, looking sincerely apologetic. “You surprised me!”

Rangi began walking, indicating for Kyoshi to follow her. She would escort her to the next destination.

Rangi didn’t mind Kyoshi screaming like that, partially because it wasn’t the first time this had happened. In all honesty, Rangi brought it on herself, sometimes she was too stealthy……or Kyoshi was too absentminded. Another reason why she shouldn’t come.

Rangi seethed inside her head. Yun wasn’t listening to reason. He had it in his head that Kyoshi needed to come along. To remind him of the little people he was doing it all for. 

What a load of bull cow crap! He should be able to see that with the servants that work here every day! Or the villagers he sees when he sneaks a peak over the wall! He didn’t need to drag Kyoshi into it!

Kyoshi had already suffered enough growing up. At least, from what Aunti Mui had let slip to her about Kyoshi’s life before the mansion. Kyoshi didn’t need to be put into peril again, and she most certainly didn’t need to suffer an agonizing death at the hands of some daofei!

She just wanted Kyoshi to live a long and healthy life. But she couldn’t do that if she was dead!

Rangi looked up and realized they were somewhere in the garden. She didn’t notice how she got there, when they got there, nor cared. 

An idea passed through her head. If she couldn’t convince Yun, maybe she could convince Kyoshi.

“Kyoshi,” Rangi started, breaking the silence. She saw Kyoshi flinch out of the corner of her eye.

“Y-yes?” 

“You aren’t going,” Rangi said. Rangi tried to say it with a finality. Try to push Kyoshi into the same mindset as her. Whatever it would take to keep her safe.

Kyoshi sighed. “I don’t think I have a choice, Rangi. It’s a special request from the Avatar.”

Rangi stopped walking and turned to glare at Kyoshi. “Of course you have a choice! You just have to tell him you don’t want to! Just tell him ‘no,’ Kyoshi!”

Please, just for once. Don’t think of him. Don’t give in to him. Just tell him ‘no.’ Rangi sobbed internally. Lately, she couldn’t stop the thoughts she’d usually fought to ignore from bubbling to the surface. 

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow and gave her a joking smile. “And disobey the Avatar?”

Rangi stiffened. Yes. That’s exactly what she wanted. Every time she brought it up, it was another hit to her honor. Disobeying her honorbound duty. Each time she tried to find an excuse, to cover up her own horrid act and shame. “It’s not ‘disobeying’ if he gave you an option in the first place, right?”

“I don’t mind though,” Kyoshi said, smiling at Rangi. The same smile and expression she would make whenever she’d come home with dirty clothes and poorly covered bruises. When the other village teens had roughed her up or thrown mud and rocks at her. Rangi knew Kyoshi was lying, and it was making her sick to her stomach.

Kyoshi got closer to Rangi and whispered. “Plus he practically begged me. How could I say no?”

Rangi’s eyes widened. Is that it? Is that all? All Yun had to do was beg Kyoshi and he had her? A simple plea and she’d willingly give herself over?

Nausea started to take over and Rangi started feeling dizzy. It wasn’t fair. People took advantage of Kyoshi’s kind nature so often. And now she was marching herself to an executioner's block to unknowingly stroke Yun’s ego.

Rangi couldn’t have that. If she must, she’d stoop as low as those worms!

She saw Kyoshi had started walking and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her back.

“Then what about me, huh?” Rangi got in Kyoshi’s face. Her space. Trying to take up as much residency in Kyoshi’s being as possible. She only wanted the other girl to see her, only her, no one else. “What if I begged? What if I begged you not to come along? What would you do then?”

Would you afford me the same treatment as Yun? Would you give yourself to me too? Do I want you to? 

Rangi shook Kyoshi’s arm once and let her stoic mask crumple. She wanted Kyoshi to know how she truly felt. She wanted Kyoshi to realize someone cared about her. Wanted her to be safe. Not to run into danger because of some misguided duty. 

Rangi shook her arm again. “Please. Kyoshi, please don’t come with us,” she begged again. She’d beg as many times as it would take. 

Rangi watched as Kyoshi bit her lip and held the package she was holding tighter to her being. Recoiling from Rangi. 

She watched as Kyoshi went to form the words “I’m sorry” from her lips, before they got caught by the heat Rangi had started to form around them.

Rangi realized she couldn’t make Kyoshi do anything. Even Yun couldn’t make her do anything. Kyoshi was doing this because she chose to. Just like how she’d actively choose to not defend herself against her own bullies. 

Rangi was a fool, an idiot, to not see it before. Kyoshi had chosen and was doing what she wanted to do. In doing so, Rangi realized Kyoshi had also chosen Yun over her.

Rangi grimaced and released Kyoshi. “Forget it,” she said in defeat, as she walked away. If she couldn’t stop Kyoshi from going with them, then she’d need to find a way to protect her.

_____

A/N:Me: Rangi’s side is more serious! You need to treat it more seriously!Also me: Ok she’s kind of a loser, gotcha. TT0TT

 I love high blood pressure!Rangi, I love gremlin!Rangi. But lovesick!Rangi? Hmmm yes! *throws all three in a blender to mix them up* uwu

[harmfulb1tch]

Interesting Dreams Part 2

Ship: Brad Bakshi x reader

Warnings: SMUT (mdni): Vibrators, exhibitionism, teasing, orgasm denial, possessive. Swearing.

Summary: After your encounter with Brad last week, he has a little surprise for you.

A/N: The long awaited Part twoooooo yay! Finally Finished!

-------------------------

A couple of days had passed since the incident. You had barely spoken to Brad, meaning you had only spoken to him when necessary. That was in directory meetings and when you had to present him the designs for the new weapons in the game to see if they were marketable, and even then, you limited yourself to give him the design on paper and look straight down to the floor.

Poppy had confronted you about the dream a couple of times, saying that she didn’t know what you saw in Brad (which you didn’t know yourself). But you shut her down quickly when you brought up her dream about Ian. Of course, the situation wasn’t the same, because differently from Poppy, you did in fact want to be fucked by Brad. You wanted it so bad it was the only thing you thought about everyday at work. You always had him in view, since your office was right in front of his and they both had clear windows. He always was either pacing around with coffee in his hand or very concentrated on his Mac, working on something you didn’t know. It was very ironic how a couple of weeks ago you agreed with everyone around the office on hating Brad, but it only took a dream for you to change your mind about the lanky man (This is probably because you lied to yourself). While he was in his office, you only fantasized about what he would do to you. You wanted him to fuck you in his office, to treat you like he owned you.

There he was now, he was talking on the phone to some client, you assumed. He looked calm and collected, he probably sounded like that too. Although, you could look through that facade. He was calm, but you could see the cogs in his head turning. You could see that he was plotting a scheme or finding a way to make the client crack. That’s something you admired from him, how he could look collected and make everyone be at his mercy all at the same time. 

Your thoughts were interrupted suddenly when you saw Brad looking directly at you. He caught you looking at him, practically undressing him with your eyes. He immediately smirked and looked away. You also turned your gaze away from him, blushing madly and trying to focus again on your work. 

After that, you heard someone knock on the door of your office. David appeared with his usual fake smile and positive attitude. A part of you was scared that he was going to talk to you to mention the incident that happened with Brad a couple of days prior. You discarded the possibility remembering how nervous he was when he found out about the dream, thinking that if he were to bring the topic up, he wouldn’t be so jolly. 

“Good Morning Y/N! I just wanted to tell you that we will have a directory meeting at 12pm, so be ready for that! he said, accentuating the “T” at the end. You liked David, to a certain extent. You immediately started liking him less when he ratted you out to Brad. 

“Sure. But couldn’t you have send me an email with the details of the meeting? I could’ve prepared something on what we were working on right now in the art department” 

“Yep, sorry. We forgot to tell you. See you later!” And with that he left, closing the door behind him

You sighed. Typical. You, the art director, were forgotten when setting up a very important meeting. You needed a fucking break, you didn’t get paid enough to keep up with all this bullshit.

You went to the breakroom, where Poppy and Ian were talking next to the coffee machine. You pushed Ian aside without even talking to him to prepare yourself a coffee and grab a packet of Pop Tarts. Poppy and Ian started talking to you about their lives, just making casual conversation. Ian was telling you and Poppy about a hookup he had the night before. Although it was a very graphic explanation, you lived for the drama of it all. At some point, Poppy tried to bring up Brad into the conversation, but every time she hinted at the subject, you shot her a stern look, not wanting to talk about your experiences regarding Brad.

Ian looked at you and Poppy weirdly, clearly feeling excluded from the conversation. He then said his “goodbye”s and left for his office. Immediately after he left, Poppy looked at you, wiggling her eyebrows, clearly not scared of you revealing her wet dream about Ian anymore.

“So? You’re not going to ask him out?” Poppy said, trying to usher you into caving in and admitting your crush on the tall man.

“Absolutely not.” you said with the most serious look. To prove your seriousness, you took a sip of your coffee.

“Oh come on! You know you like him, admit it!”

“Poppy, he’s a fucking sociopath. I’ve been with guys like him before and I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Aha! So you do admit he’s your type!” She said, with an exaggerated tone of voice, as if she just resolved a case.

“Poppy! Such the fuck up!” You shushed her “Plus, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t already have someone in his life… Anyway, I’m not asking him out, he’s probably already weirded out enough”

“I’m sure he’s not. You said it yourself, he’s a fucking weirdo. Remember when he tried to bet on my hair? Yeah, fucking weirdo” She rambled “My point is, he’s probably turned on by all this.”

“Ew, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m too busy for this shit, I’m going back to my office. Tell me if you need anything work related. Bye.” And with that you left straight to your office.

When you arrived, you sat on your roller chair sighing. You brushed your hand over your face in pure self-doubt. Should you ask him out? Should you just ignore this whole situation? You didn’t know. All of this was raising a lot of questions in your head. Opening your eyes again, you went to reach your computer to continue working before your meeting when you hand touched a small, wrapped box. When you inspected it further, you saw a note was attached to it. You opened the small envelope curious to see who left the little box on your office table. You hadn’t seen anyone enter, too occupied talking to Poppy.

“ A little present for you. Be a good girl and put these on for the directory meeting in around half an hour. I have the remote.

Brad”

After reading the note, you immediately opened the box, tearing into the deep red wrapping paper that covered it neatly. You opened the lid to reveal a pair of vibrator panties. Your eyes immediately widened at the sight. The fact that Brad would spend this amount of money to torture you was unbelievable to you. Even if you were a bit grossed out by the situation, you were also very curious on how all of this was to play out. Without a second thought (before you regretted it) you rushed to the bathroom and put them on.

Ten minutes later, you rushed to the meeting and sat next to the man responsible for the vibrator between your legs. He was sitting slouching in his seat as if he didn’t give a fuck about anything, with one leg over the other, pressing his ankle on his opposite thigh. He leaned into you a bit and whispered in your ear.

“Are you wearing it?” he said. You nodded softly, gulping in anticipation. “Good girl” your pussy throbbed at that, you loved his praises.

You saw him put his hand into his pocket and the vibration between your thighs started softly, drawing a pleased hum out of you. He was kinky, you’d give him that.

When it was your turn to show everyone your designs, you knew Brad would make your life impossible. As you went to stand up, the vibration in between your legs speeded up, making you jump, drawing a concerned and confused look from David. You couldn’t think about anything but Brad during your presentation, your voice shook, you slightly whimpered, you sweated and could barely recall what you needed to say.

“Y/N, are you ok? You really don’t seem like yourself today” David said, concern laced in his voice. You slightly looked at Brad, who looked at you with lust-filled eyes and smirked at you.

“Y-yes, I’m fine. C-can I please c-continue?” You couldn’t help but stutter, it felt too good.

“S-sure…?” 

You kept going through the presentation and when you were done, you went back to your seat, crossing your legs to try to stop the build up. It was Brad’s time to present. He looked so sexy while engaging with his small public that consisted of the directory committee: Poppy, Ian, David, C.W. and yourself. 

“The weapons Y/N designed were a huge hit, and they’ve been selling like hot cakes. Good girl Y/N.” You almost choked when he said that. A silence filling the room.

“T-thank you Brad.” You said flushed.

“Well that was fucking weird” Said Ian.

At one moment, he put his hands on his pockets and amplified the vibrations while was presenting. You were so fucking close. You needed release and without realizing, you smacked the table with your hand hard. Then you tried to camouflage it as a cough when everybody looked at you weirdly. That cough sounded more like a moan than anything, but people didn’t dare to question anything. Brad knew you were so. Fucking. Close. That was when he completely stopped the vibrations. When he wrapped up his presentation, you rushed to your office.

“What was that about?” David said, weirded out.

“I don’t know,” Brad said, bored.

Brad paraded after you and found you hunched over your desk. You were on the brink of your orgasm and he denied it like he owned you, which he kind of did. You haven’t been this frustrated in a long time.

“H-hey, uh… what’s going on?” he said in an innocent tone. You stood up to confront him, full of a new-found confidence. 

“What is your fucking deal? I was so fucking close, and you put me in the spot SEVERAL times. I’m so fucking done with you Brad” You sounded really pissed, because you were.

“Oh don’t get your panties in a twist.” he said annoyed

“Oh fuck you!” you shouted

“Careful there, princess. You’re playing with fire.” With that, he pressed you against your desk and, yet again, leaned into your ear, whispering “You don’t want me to deny you of your orgasm again, do you?”

“N-no…” With his body pressed to yours, your brain barely functioned. You didn’t know what was going on with you, you never acted like this. 

“Good girl. Now, I have to go. I’ll see you later.” before he left, he brushed his lips with yours. Not quite kissing you, just teasing.

You were left there, dumbfounded (again). You breathed deeply, and your eyes were wide. You probably looked crazy, a complete mess. And worst of all, you were the wettest you had ever been. You were so fucking frustrated. You wanted to shout, scream and have a tantrum but, most of all, you wanted to cum. You wanted Brad to fuck you like he owned you.

[platinumrosetail]

Soo could I request a flash sentry (Equestria girls) x male reader.

With a enemies to lovers troupe?

So both of them have a crush on twilight and they start developing crushes on each other after a while? (Feel free to genderbend twilight if that makes you more comfortable)

And both of them just deny their crushes on each other, and everyone is just convinced they're dating or like each other?

For m! readers personality I'm thinking he could be kinda rude and a tsundere, but he also can be kinda Flirty but if someone he likes flirts with him he gets really flustered?

I'm thinking he also maybe is a drummer OR he skateboards?

(Sorry if this is really long)

Interesting! I’ve honestly been hoping for a mlp request for some time now as there sadly isn’t a whole lot of male mlp x reader so thank you for requesting 😁, also yea I’ll be genderbending twilight so it’s comfortable for me.

Warning: noob author, male reader, and others.

Character: flash sentry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and flash have a bit of a rivalry what with you two having a crush on dusk shine (genderbent twilights name).

You friends (which is the main 5 just genderbent to male hope you don’t mind I make them his friends thought it would make sense) all think that you and flash both have a crush on each other which you whole heartedly denied and said that you would never get a crush on him…… oh how that will change soon.

When dusk shine returned to his world after defeating flash’s ex boyfriend(would have left sunset a girl but considering how I already genderbend the main 6 might as well y’know?) you and flash start to hang out even flirt with each other whether it was on purpose or not the both of you didn’t know as it just naturally happened.

That made everyone think that you two finally started dating as they could tell there was tension before.

You denied it though, so much so that you said that it isn’t like you have a crush on him and lay away at night thinking about him…… it was true… until it wasn’t as apparently you had jinxed yourself that night thinking about flash.

(Please get the reference lol if not then it’ll be in the a/n at the bottom.)

You didn’t really know what to do with this predicament you’re in so you try to deny it and act normal but whenever he flirts back you get flustered and start stuttering before making a excuse so you can leave to cool off your face from the blushing as you didn’t know if he even liked you like that or just trying to get along with you from now on after dusk shine left.

It was by a sudden accident that you found out that flash does in fact have the same feelings for you, you were skateboarding and accidentally rammed into him and took too long to get off of him and he let out the ‘I love you’ as he looked into your eyes, both of you blushed before getting up, you tried stammering out a response before sighing and giving up and just kissing him saying you love him to while also adding dork at the end.

(A/n: hope y’all liked it!! The reference was from gravity falls by the way, I think y’all know what I’m talking about. I hope I did a ok job making the reader a tsundere as possible as I could, I tried my best with it so I’m sorry if it isn’t as good as yall hoped it would be 😅. Also my first male mlp request yay! This was honestly unexpected for me to get a request on it 😁 anyway hope y’all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

[bluexiao]

#blue life update

- omg omg it has been a long time, hasn’t it?? three months?? i have lost count! but anyway, i’m still pretty busy but a part of me dreads for the kind of normalcy i had before and alsooo like i said it’s fontaine update! i’ve been pretty ia in genshin but writing and reading about them helps me be more active! after all,,, i need them primos for vil and furina i cant LOSE

- anyway actually my past few months had been HECTIC! I had 3 (theater) jobs along with my academics so it was difficult to juggle my time especially during july (ey i just turned 21 yay) where everyday there’s a show happening and i had no sleep, no rest, and definitely no time to even think about others or even myself. but anyway i succeeded! and now i have 70 hours left needed for my ojt hours out of 400!

- i actually started voice acting! i only had one job so far since i had been busy with theater tho but i enjoyed it! would love to voice act for anyone if you’re in need!

- my perspective in acting changed. like DRASTICALLY. idk if i’ve ever opened that here before but i have bad experiences in the past with acting,,, but after working outside of school (for once, finally), i felt some sort of spark inside me light up again,,, (and i may end up being a musical actress soon!)

- also i’m learning how to drive! well, this is my most recent update since i just took the test and passed like this weekend (ik i’m pretty late i’m sorry it’s a solo kid problem along with the fact that i never intended to learn after graduating)

- speaking of graduating,,,, THIS BLUE IS GRADUATING NEXT YEAR!! AAAA JUST ONE TERM LEFT AND I’M FREEEE (at least from uni,,, but i’ll have to work so maybe not totally free)

- i got into hsr! MY GODDD i’m loving it! tho i hate the relics i’ve been farming for 2 straight weeks and i have not got a himeko 5* body relic yet i am crYING

on another note, how have you all been? i missed everyone in here! i’ll make sure to write as soon as i can (with the winning prompt yesterday~) probably after i do my archon quest— I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GONNA SAY BLUE WHY-SORRY I HAD BEEN SO PREOCCUPIED KSKSK

[dumbnoodlesx3]

yay steviewise lore!! (finally)

(sorry if this isn’t written well, i’m not really a writer tbh😭😭 also sorry this is so long LMAO)

so, i think i’ll start with who stevie is! (stevie is meant to be me btw! i just talk about them like they’re a character because its easier for me lol) stevie is a young adult in the town of derry, maine. they are trans masc, nonbinary, on the aroace spectrum, and autistic (specifically diagnosed with AU-DHD)! they’ve always been a bit weird to other people, being interested in weird and creepy things (*cough cough* clowns), not understanding most social cues, and not being very sociable. they’re usually a quiet person, not really an introvert though because they’re quite talkative to the people they like and are close to. they struggle to fit in, but that doesn’t bring them down too much.

the thing that first draws pennywise to stevie is their scopophobia (the fear of being watched) and paranoia. stevie struggles with these things most of the time, having to reassure themselves in drastic ways that nothing is watching them. stevie has always been irrationally scared of something secretly watching them, waiting for the right moment to get them.

their first meeting happened at night in stevie’s home. stevie was struggling to get to sleep, their paranoid thoughts were keeping them awake. penny took this as the perfect opportunity to strike, and he attacked stevie. howeverrr this ended up failing, as stevie escaped from penny (not without a few injuries, though). this did frustrate penny a little, but it was alright because penny could just try again another time. except when he did, he failed AGAIN. every single time, penny somehow didn’t succeed with his plans, which kinda made him pissed off LOL. penny didn’t necessarily give up, he just changed his plans, deciding to watch and learn more about stevie. at first it was for the reason of being able to use more fears and insecurities against stevie, but then penny started to find stevie interesting, and found them a little bit likeable. so he decided to try and befriend them (he didn’t really know how to do that though).

from stevie’s perspective, being constantly watched by this clown, who tried to kill them several times, made them feel very scared (especially with the whole scopophobia thing LOL). but then stevie got used to seeing penny around, and started to like his presence. overtime they would chat with each other more and became friends! yay! penny still didn’t really feel much empathy or remorse though, so for a while he was a little mean to stevie (not like, HORRIBLY mean but like, he was just ignorant to stevie’s feelings because he, as a shapeshifting non human creature, did not understand these feelings the same way). penny would tease and mess stevie a lot for a while until stevie threatened to stop being friends with him if he continued to do so, which actually scared penny a little (he’s never had a friend before and for some reason he really didn’t want to lose stevie like that) so he stopped (not completely, but it was definitely much friendlier teasing than before)

through their friendship, they both grew very attached to each other and grew a strong bond. penny never really had someone that actually understood him like stevie did. obviously, most people typically just demonized penny (which tbf he didn’t really hate that, since he feeds on stuff like peoples fears and insecurities, but it felt nice to have someone actually like him) and didn’t try to understand him. stevie kinda helped penny understand things like empathy and remorse, though i think he still struggles to feel these things (for other people, anyway).

so, after a while of being friends, penny starts developing feelings for stevie. penny struggled with having these feelings, he never loved a single thing before, let alone a human. love was something penny never cared about before, he always thought it was just a pathetic, human feeling, and now he was feeling it for his only actual friend. these feelings scared penny, not only because it felt strange, but because he thought it would ruin their friendship. penny knew how a lot of humans reacted to their friends having crushes on the other, and knew a lot of the time it ended poorly. penny pushed these feelings away for a little bit, until he realized stevie reciprocated these feelings. penny figured this out because he could sense stevie’s fear of these feelings, too. so, penny ended up confessing to stevie, he was actually quite blunt with it too lol. and uhh yea they started a relationship!! they’re very loving to each other now :3

i do think pennywise would probably make stevie immortal but tbh i’m unsure how LOL, it would just be best for both of them (and in my selfship lore pennywise doesn’t die so like, yay)

ok anyways! if you have any questions about them feel free to ask! i’d love to talk about their relationship more :3 (i obviously had to make it shorter on this post because obviously i can’t include every single thing LOL)

[justonemorechapternicercy]

Hi friend! I saw you were taking halloween percico prompts and was hoping you'd write something with werewolf!Nico spending time with Percy. ♥

Yay! Thank you!!! 💕💕💕

"DON'T EAT THAT!" Percy shouted in alarm.

Nico froze, looking like a deer in a headlight, a piece of Kinder chocolate dangling from his mouth.

"That could kill you!" Percy explained, tearing the chocolate out of Nico's hand, throwing it away as if it was a dangerous bomb that needed to be neutralized. It took Nico a minute, but then he realized, and it took a lot of him to not groan.

"Percy," he sighed, resisting the urge to facepalm. "I'm a werewolf. Not a dog. Chocolate is not dangerous to me."

His boyfriend continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, not budging even the tiniest.

"You don't know that! It might still kill you!"

Nico sighed again, hugging his ridiculous boyfriend close. "I ate a lot of chocolate before! You know that. You've seen me stress eat chocolate all the time! You even baked me a chocolate cake for my birthday!"

Percy's lips trembled, "I did… oh my god, I made you chocolate cake. And chocolate chip cookies. And brownie! I could have killed you!"

"Babe. My love, my heart," Nico kissed the top of Percy's head. "You knowing that I'm a werewolf didn't change anything. I can eat everything I ate before, and chocolate doesn't hurt me, not even a bit. It doesn't upset my stomach, I don't get allergic reactions, nothing. Chocolate is safe for me."

Percy sighed, and relaxed in his arms. "Sorry for freaking out. I'm still new in… all of this, and I… I might have some nightmares about all the ways you could be hurt. I don't want you to be hurt." Nico could feel Percy's lips against his neck pouting, his breath tickling the sensitive skin. His boyfriend was ridiculous.

He was so precious to Nico.

"I adore you," he confessed, easily holding up Percy, coaxing him to wrap his legs around him. It was like carrying a feather-

A very nice, sexy, adorable, pretty and cute feather.

"Mmm," Percy purred, nuzzling his face into Nico's neck as if he was the canine. "Is this going to be a thing now? 'Cuz I think I could get used to being carried by my very handsome and very strong boyfriend."

"It could be," Nico replied in a smug tone. "I could carry you anywhere and everywhere you wanted," he said, putting Percy down on the couch. He wanted to snuggle with him until it was time to change-

And then snuggle with him a bit more.

"Can we watch a movie?" Percy asked, and Nico handed him the remote controller without a question. His boyfriend shifted so they could both face the TV more comfortably and opened the Disney+ account Poseidon paid for for all of his kids.

"Of course you'd want to watch a Disney movie," he chuckled. It quickly turned into a delighted smile when he saw which movie his boyfriend chose.

"Twas a long time ago, longer now than it seems in a place perhaps you've seen in your dreams…" They both quoted the opening scene and sang the song with the characters. Watching Nightmare before Christmas while snuggling with his boyfriend who knew about the secret he hid for so long… Nico was finally truly happy.

It was around the middle of the movie, Jack just got back from Christmas' place, when Nico felt his world shift. It was not painful, nothing like in the movies; no cracking bones and painful howls, but it was disorienting. It was better when he was laying down, there wasn't much height difference then, but the times it took him by surprise when standing, the sudden change always left him dizzy and confused.

"Hi little guy," Percy cooed. Nico growled; it wasn't like he was that much smaller! He was a respectable sized young wolf, still a growing boy!

His boyfriend just laughed and pressed a loud smacking smooch on his snout. "I'm just teasing you, you big boy!" He grinned.

Nico huffed, then slowly, deliberately licked Percy across his face, who snorted, and pushed him away with an exaggerated disgusted face. "You menace!" He complained jokingly.

Nico wanted to say that pot called the kettle black, but he couldn't, so he just licked Percy again.

It was so much more fun to spend the full moon with his boyfriend than it was faking emergencies and business trips and other little lies to hide his condition. He was so blessed to have Percy Jackson in his life. He didn't care about Hades' opinion on his choices in boyfriends, nor his distain for Percy. Percy Jackson was a blessing, and not a curse his father always accused him to be.

"Going to make something… you want some… hm. Mac and cheese?"

Nico growled.

"That's a no, I guess. Okay, what about pizza? You like pizza!"

Another growl and a disgusted sniff. Nico couldn't talk, but it was okay. His boyfriend knew all his feelings about pizza that was not made from scratch. He loves pizza, sure- but not that American abomination with more crust than toppings.

"Burgers, maybe?"

Nico barked. Burger was good. Burger was great!

"Hamburger it is," Percy nodded, and soon their little apartment was smelling like cooked meat and barbecue sauce. When he was done, they settled back to the couch, watching another movie - Corpse Bride -, sharing pieces of hamburger. Percy sometimes teased him, making him chase his boyfriend's hand that offered but did not provide meal, like the evil menace he was, and when they finished the meal, they snuggled up against each other again.

Percy's soft voice sang Emily's song quietly. His tail wagged in his happiness, lazily thumping against Percy's thigh. Never feeling more content than that time, the werewolf let his eyelids drop, relaxing on top of his beloved human's body. One warm hand scratched his ear, and another petted his back, making him whine softly for more when they stopped. Feeling warm and comfortable, his boyfriend's breathing lulled him into deep sleep.