#the most recent one came out this year I think

[wonderjanga]

Sharing Can in Fact Lead to Caring

Sometimes Billy doesn’t need Solomon. Sometimes, Billy just says whatever that comes off the top of his head, it can be surprisingly helpful at times. (Billy doesn’t realize most of them are just coming to their dad figure for advice)

Such as the time Wonder Woman came to him concerned about time dilation. When Solomon explained what that meant, he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. Basically, she was worried about the afterword of the Justice League and her friends and how she would outlive them all. He brought her ice cream and they talked it out. In a way, he supposed he understood her. Billy couldn’t remember his mom or dad’s faces or personalities. He only had Captain Marvel to go off of and he guesses Mary, but she looks more like a young version of their mom. In the end, after much talking and trying to show he understands her worries, she seemed to be doing better.

Then, there was a talk with J’onn. The Martian had confided in not feeling at home with the humans. Not that he blamed him. J’onn had lost his home. So, Billy talked with him. Again, sort of relating. The way the Martian described missing his planet, reminded Billy of how he’d missed his parents. By the end of the talk, the Martian seemed to feel a little lighter after it.

Then, there was this kid.

Little Girl: *sitting on a bench alone*

Marvel: “Hey there, miss. Where are your parents?”

Little Girl: *stares* “There not here.”

Marvel: “Why’s that?” *sits down next to her*

Little Girl: *shrugs*

Marvel: “Well, then do you have any guardians?”

Little Girl: “I think so, but I don’t really like her. She’s mean. I don’t think she likes me or my foster siblings.”

Marvel: “Oh? You’re from foster care?”

Little Girl: *hesitantly nods head*

Marvel: “And I’m guessing you ran away?”

Little Girl: *nods again* “Are you going to tell on me?”

Marvel: “No. I ran away from my foster homes all the time.” *shrugs, doesn’t know why he’s saying this but might as well go with it*

Little Girl: “You did?”

Marvel: “Yeah. They were all terrible. And the ones that weren’t terrible were just neglectful.”

Little Girl: “What does neglectful mean?”

Marvel: “It means not paying attention to something. Like for example, I had this foster parent who would go days without coming home, leaving me and the other kids to have to feed ourselves. She wasn’t paying attention to us or our needs.”

Little Girl: “That’s sad.”

Marvel: “Yeah, it is. So, why did you run away from your foster home?”

Little Girl: “The lady who adopted me throws stuff when she gets mad. She’s mad a lot.”

Marvel: “That sucks. I had a foster home like that too. He would throw a bottles, forks, books, whatever he could get his hands on.”

Little Girl: “You did? Did you think it was scary?”

Marvel: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “You know, a friend of mine got adopted recently.”

Little Girl: “Really?”

Marvel: “Yeah, he’s been with them for about half a year now. He says they’re great. They’ve been fostering kids for a while apparently too.”

Little Girl: “That sounds nice.”

Marvel: “It is. Do you want me to ask about it?”

Little Girl: “Huh?”

Marvel: “Do you want me to ask him if there’s any spots open?”

Little Girl: *stares for a bit* “Yeah.” *stomach growls*

Marvel: “Alright, then I will. Now, how long have you been on the streets?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm… a couple days.”

Marvel: “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” *stands up*

Little Girl: “Really?” *hops off the bench*

Marvel: “Yeah. You feeling chili dogs or tacos? Those are the only two vendors I know that’ll give me something free.”

Little Girl: “Tacos, please.”

Marvel: “Alright then- uh, my bad. I never asked your name?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm it’s Darla.”

Marvel: “Darla? Alright then Darla.” *fatherly ahh smile* “Let’s go get you some food, ‘kay?”

So ya. He met Darla. She’s a sweet kid. He would need to ask Freddy more about the Vazquez situation. Hopefully, just hopefully, they could squeeze the little girl into their family.

Also, uh… I guess in this AU, Freddy met the Vazquez and got adopted because he went back into foster care for a bit for whatever reason. There, he got adopted into the family. Darla joins after him for this post to work.

[sinnaminsuga]

𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊 - mob boss!chan x reader

wc: 3,519

cw: some threats of violence, a little angsty but happy ending, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you loved him, more than anything. but being a secret was never what you wanted. the gilded cage you seemed to exist exclusively in was suffocating you, so you decided it was time to get out. but chan wont let you go that easily.

a/n: i was driving and clearly i was not paying attention because thats when this idea was born. as usual this was beta'd by bestie @httpdwaekki and she sourced the pretty pictures for me too. enjoy!

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), breeding kink if you squint, general roughness, threats of violence (not toward the reader), chan has a gun. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

the creak of the church doors flying open should have startled you like it did everyone else, but you knew better. it was only a matter of time before he came for you. he didn't like his things to go missing. truthfully, you were shocked it even took this long. 

the click of his (no doubt expensive) shoes on the shiny wooden floor of the church hung in the air like the ticking of a clock, counting down to either your demise or your bliss you weren't sure which one. after a long pause you turned your head just enough to face him. 

“can we help you?” you asked, more nonchalant than anyone else would have been in a situation like this. the muffled gasps and muttering from the crowd in front of you almost made you laugh but you held it in. 

the charged energy in the room was due to the fact that the man interrupting your wedding was none other than the most fearsome businessman and gangster this city had ever seen. but to you? he was your asshole ex boyfriend. 

“oh can you help me? that's what you're going to say? isn't this a little much, yeobo?” he replied, voice dripping with condescension and his hand over his heart in mock surprise. 

“a little much? god you're so out of touch it's actually insane christopher. news flash, you're not the groom, you're not even supposed to be here!” you seethed, fully turning to face him. your groom (hand selected by your parents) stood next to you shaking like a leaf. you could feel the nervous sweat from his hand slicking the surface of your palm and it made your skin crawl so you dropped his hold as you stared fiercely down the aisle. 

chan's face split into the wide grin you’d once been accustomed to seeing. “are you done now? you've gotten your attention and you've pissed me off, the job is done. let's go.” he said, walking further down the aisle toward you. 

“jesus christ, you really are insane! i should have listened when people told me you were a full on fucking basket case but no. i was stupid enough to fall in love with you. fat lot of good that did for me!” you shouted at his approaching form. 

you could feel your skin heating up and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears you were so mad. who the hell did he think he was, intruding on your life like this?! it's his fault you were in this situation anyway!

***

you had been with chan for 3 years, and in that time he made it a point to keep your relationship a secret. it hurt seeing his face splashed on newspapers and tabloids all over the city speculating on who he might be dating or who he’d been seen with recently. it hurt even more when he recapped nights where he was out to dinner with his men or allies and their wives. you couldn't help but feel like it was because you weren't enough. you felt like you weren't pretty enough, weren't tough enough, weren't worthy to be seen outside his penthouse apartment. and a girl can only take so much of that for so long. 

so a few months ago on a particularly lonely night of chan being out doing god knows what with lord knows who, you packed only your sentimental personal belongings (nothing he purchased for you, which was a hell of a lot of your things), wrote a note saying nothing more than “no one took me, not that you'd care even if they did. i’ll be a bird in a gilded cage no longer. goodbye.” and walked out his door for the last time. 

the fancy things he could provide for you behind closed doors weren't enough to soothe the searing pain in your soul of feeling like the man you loved was ashamed of you. three years together and not even a hint at things changing any time soon was enough to make you return home to your parents and agree to the arranged marriage they had been working on as they had no knowledge of the relationship you were already in. and who knows, maybe you could learn to love your soon-to-be husband Seo-jun.

***

you grabbed the skirt of your simple wedding dress and stomped down the few stairs of the platform, heading toward chan. when you finally stood in front of him you could see the darkness under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping. his hair was gorgeous as usual but a little longer than he was used to wearing it. and his knuckles were raw and bruised. you almost felt bad for him but then, you remembered he made the bed he was lying in so why should you care about how uncomfortable it might be?

“why are you so upset with me yeobo? hmm? what did i do that was so bad you had to leave me in the middle of the night? i took care of you didn't i? anything you asked for, i gave it to you.” chan asked, grabbing your hand. something dark flashed in his eyes and his upper lip curled when his fingers felt Seo-jun's ring on your finger. “what made you hate me so much that you ran off to be with this fucking nobody?”

“you just don't get it. and you never did. that's part of the problem chris. you don't see me. you don't know me. no one did.” you murmured, taking your hand back and smoothing the fabric of your dress, eyes cast down. “with Seo-jun we can walk down the street holding hands and he doesn't think twice about it. we can have dinner in a restaurant, one that has other people in it. not one that's been emptied out and all the blinds closed and the staff paid to keep their mouths shut.” you inhaled a shaky breath before continuing. “i couldn't do that with you. and the worst part is, i don't think you even wanted to. you were happy to exclude me from things. happy to hide me. but i don't want that. i never did. and if you had no intentions of marrying me, it was my responsibility to myself to find someone who would.” you dabbed your fingers under your eyes and sniffled before straightening your back and meeting his eyes. you weren't prepared to see the agony in his face. 

“i- i don't...i didn't know...i didn't know that is how you saw it all, how you saw me. i'm so sorry sweetheart. i wish you had talked to me.” chan breathed. he reached out his right hand and set it on your shoulder, rubbing soothing little circles with his thumb. after a moment he slid it up to cradle the back of your neck and tug you closer to him. 

“i should have explained. i should have been more perceptive. i never wanted you to feel this way, i swear i didnt.” chan’s voice shook as he spoke to you. 

“well it's too late now. please just go. please.” you whispered, trying to back away from him. you couldn't talk about this anymore. but in your attempt to move away from him, his grip on you tightened. he pulled you toward him forcefully enough that you were now chest to chest. 

“you think that i will ever let you go again? i stayed away when you left, i thought maybe you needed time to be angry at me for whatever it was and then you'd come back when you were ready. but then i saw your face in the newspaper, the wedding announcement section no less. and i laughed. i laughed because surely that couldn't be true.” a bitter laugh rattled out of chan's mouth, flames of wild jealousy flickering in his eyes. 

“as long as there is air in my lungs and my heart is beating in my chest, you will never belong to another man. ever. do you understand me?” he growled. 

“i told you in my note and i'll tell you again now to your face, i wont be in a cage anymore. i cant do that to myself chris. i won’t. besides, you never would have married me. you just want to possess me, but you don't want anyone to know that you do.” you said softly, tears finally slipping down your cheeks unrestrained. 

“why do you keep saying that? why do you think i'm ashamed of you?” he pleaded, his brows drawing together in confusion.  

“what else am i left to think when you keep me hidden away in your penthouse? i'm not invited to dinners. i'm not invited to parties. no one you know, knows i exist! that's why every person in this room is so shocked to see you here! no one had any idea we were together, because that's what you wanted. i was a toy for you and now that someone else has me you're upset. don't you understand how painful that is for me?!” you wailed, not wanting to keep talking about it. you pleaded with your eyes for him to stop this torture but he was having none of it. 

“are you insane? you think i wanted to keep us a secret? i wanted to tip toe around with you? no! but i had to! i know you think you know what i do but you have no idea the dangers that come with it. you are my most prized possession and the very knowledge of that is ammunition for some people in my world.” chan cried. “i would have loved nothing more than to scream it from the rooftops how much i fucking love you but i knew that would put you in danger and if anything ever happened to you i would have burned the world to ash. but the idea of your safety is out the window now, you forced my hand with this wedding bullshit and now it's all out in the open. everybody fucking knows now!” he bellowed. 

realization washed over you like a bucket of ice water. he was right. you never considered that you might be in harms way if his enemies knew of your existence. 

“i couldn't fucking marry you because then our marriage would be public record. anyone digging into me would find you that way. i wasn't willing to lay your life on the fucking line like that. is a wedding what you want? you wanna marry me?” chan asked, a mischievous air suddenly surrounding him. your subconscious overrode any sort of common sense and forced you to nod yes like some kind of sick twisted muscle memory. 

the next thing you knew he was pulling you back down the aisle toward the small raised platform, the audience whispering behind you. as he approached your groom you held your breath, worried about what he would say. 

“seo-jun is it?” he asked and seo-jun nodded. the fear was coming off of him in waves, why your parents paired you with this man you would never understand. you were far too argumentative to be with a weak man. “okay, so seo-jun what's going to happen now is i'm going to marry your fiance okay? get out of my way please, i'll only ask the one time so remember that.” chan said, his voice sickly sweet with a hint of ominous threat. seo-jun just nodded and ran off to cower behind his parents in the first row of seats. chan turned to face the officiant before speaking again. “alright let's start.”

the officiant gulped before he spoke with a shaky voice, “sir i can't marry you two. you don't even have a marriage license with the correct names on it.” this was obviously the incorrect response because chan reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, pressing it to the underside of the officiant's jaw. the rabid look in his eyes was one you were familiar with, he was incredibly worked up now. 

“i don't recall asking for your sage advice, did anyone hear me ask for his advice?” he addressed the audience with his question. the crowd murmured a chorus of no’s and chan turned back to the man at gunpoint. “open your stupid fucking book and marry us or i'll blow your fucking brains out, got it? okay, good.” the officiant nodded frantically as chan pulled the gun away, tucking it back into the holster you knew he wore on his side. 

you were very much in shock, and oddly enough very much turned on by his public display of aggression. you were finally getting what you always dreamed of with chan but you weren't totally happy. you didn't get to plan the wedding of your dreams with him, and this small event just didnt feel right. 

“chris we can't do this. not like this. i want to plan something real, something with you. can we do that? please?” you asked, tugging on his hands. 

“oh. of course we can do that sweetheart. but can we do this too? just like a practice? we’re already here and you look so pretty.” he said with his lopsided grin you could never say no to. so you giggled and nodded, and proceeded with the ceremony. 

after the exchanging of vows, a cutting look at seo-jun from chan about the wedding band he’d chosen for you, and some muttering from chan about ‘none of this is good enough' the officiant pronounced you man and wife. the crowd reaction was mild as they were all still so confused and terrified, but you didn't care. you were floating. and soon as he heard the words “you may now kiss your bride” chan tugged you to him and planted his lips on yours. he swept his tongue into your mouth and you whined into the kiss. god you'd missed this, no one kissed you like chan did. he broke away for a moment just to stare at you. 

“everybody get the fuck out.” every person in the church fled at chan's command, some squealing as they left. the two men he arrived with left as well, closing the doors behind them. you looked around confused, not sure why he would do that as you hadn't gotten your chance to walk down the aisle hand in hand. “channie what are you doing?” you asked. 

a wicked smile appeared on his face as he replied “my wife and i need to consummate this marriage, i didn't want them here for that.” heat settled low in your belly at his words and you felt your face flush. surely he couldn't be serious! but evidently he was as he pulled you further across the platform to the altar. 

he lifted you and set you down on top of the altar and pushed your legs apart to slot himself in between, yanking your dress up your legs to pool around your hips. chan planted open mouthed kisses across your exposed collarbone, one hand kneading your breast, the other reaching between you to grind against your clit. you threw your head back at the sudden pleasure. 

“you let him in here? you let seo-jun touch you like i do?” he grunted against your mouth. 

“nuh-uh. told him i wanted to wait. wasn't ready to give myself to another man.” you said, choking down a moan. 

“good. he seems nice, i really didn't want to have to kill him.” chan laughed out into your neck. you pawed at his chest in an attempt to open his shirt but the buttons proved to be too difficult for your lust addled brain so you tore it open instead. and what you saw made you stop short. 

right over his heart swooped dark black strokes of ink in your handwriting, the tattoo reading “i’ll be a bird in a gilded cage no longer.” it took your breath away and tears welled in your eyes. the weight of everything that had transpired hung heavy in the air between you and chan knew that so instead of speaking right away he leaned in, cupped your face in both hands, and kissed you with the most passion he could. so many words unspoken poured out of your mouths and into that kiss.

“here's what's going to happen now sweetheart. i'm gonna flip you around, bend you over, and fuck you until you see stars okay? it's been too long.” he explained as he maneuvered your body to the position he was describing. his big hand pressed between your shoulder blades and you submitted to him like you always did, leaning forward until your cheek was pressed to the marble of the altar. 

the jingling of his belt behind you made you clench around nothing, the ache of being empty taking over. chan bunched your skirt up once again before savagely tearing your panties from your body. two of his big fingers slid through your wetness before sinking into you, punching a moan from your chest. 

“gonna make it hurt baby, stretch you out jus’ the way you like okay? daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. always remember i love you okay sweetheart? because im going to fuck you like i really really don't.” he whispered into your ear, planting a kiss on the side of your head. then he was lining up with your entrance and sliding all the way in without stopping. 

and he was right, the stretch hurt but really it always did. he was just so big, but you liked the burn. you liked still feeling him the next day. you could feel your eyelids drooping and your body relaxing as he started to move. 

“fucking hell sweetheart. a few months away from me and i have to retrain this pussy to take me. so fucking tight.” chan ground out as his powerful hips slammed him in and out of you over and over again. your cunt was drooling all over his cock, almost as much as your mouth was all over the altar. 

“still can't believe you ran from me. how about i put a baby in you, then you can't go anywhere. there's not a single place on this earth where i won't fucking find you, you got that?” he spat, lacing his hand into your hair and yanking your head up. all you could get out was a measly “uh-huh” but it seemed to be enough because he growled and started pistoning his thick length into you at a new angle, slamming the head into your g-spot. 

chan reached down and wrapped a big hand around the back of your left thigh, lifting your leg and laying it flat on the altar, opening you up more for him. he slid his fingertips down between your legs and rubbed at your clit. if you weren't already sweating and drooling, surely that would have been the thing to do it. 

“slutty little pussy missed me huh? she was all lonely and empty without daddy to take care of her. c’mon baby, keep squeezing me, yeah just like that pretty girl. so perfect.” he groaned as he did his best to bruise you from the inside. 

at this point you were as boneless as you'd ever been, you truly did miss getting dicked down like this. chan had always been the best fuck of your life and you hadn't realized how much you missed it until now. “please make me cum daddy. need it so bad.” you mumbled incoherently, eyes glazed over. 

chan laughed, a bitter sound tumbling from his lips. “those little fingers of yours couldn't even come close to treating you like my dick huh? bet you were riding that dildo i got you, wishing it was me.” he hissed out between his clenched teeth. all you could do was moan and nod because he was right. 

“go on then. cum for me pretty baby. do it for me, need to feel it. then i'll fill you up just like you like.” he said, throwing his head back as he thrust into you with the harshest force you'd ever experienced. a few more direct hits to your g-spot and it was over, you were screaming and spasming around him, trapping him inside you for a moment. 

“jesus fucking christ- oh god fuck that feels so good. keep squeezing me, yessss just like that baby yeah. fuck you're so beautiful like this. ah- ah- fuck fuck fuck 'm gonna cum. gonna cum in this perfect little cunt baby. FUCK!” chan gasped out, hips stilling as he spilled inside of you, warming you from the inside out. he collapsed over your back and breathed hard against your spine. 

after gathering his breath and his thoughts he leaned forward, licking up a rivulet of sweat rolling down the side of your neck before whispering into your ear “cmon mama, lets get you home. i have a lot of apologizing to do.”

THE END

[in1-nutshell]

After seeing the ophelia in idw posts I'm really curious about what would Ironhold be like in idw like,

Would they also leave the decepticons? If so, what made them leave? Did their father also shoot them in this universe? Did they realise that their faction had strayed too far from its original goal? Did they defect to the autobots? Would the autobots really accept them? Or do they go neutral?

But if they don't leave, how did they feel about Megatron leaving? In either of those scenarios, what is their relationship with the decepticons? The autobots? Where do they go after the war is over?

I just really like them a lot :D

Here comes Ironhold!

IDW Ironhold

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Mention of injury, Cybertronian reader

IDW/MTMTE

They were a young gladiator when they first met Megatron.

A big fan of Megatron’s work, both in the arena and his writings.

Megatron was a bit curious about the young bot who seemed to follow him almost anywhere they were allowed to go.

At first it was a bit annoying to have a second shadow.

But over time he got used to having them try and chat his audials off.

Megatron walks down the corridor. Rapid pedes steps are heard. The young bot starts calling his name. Megatron: “Yes… umm…” I-035: “I’m I-035, sir!” Megatron winces a bit at the word ‘sir’. He wasn’t that old… Megatron hums as he continues walking. I-035 follows closely behind him. I-035: “There is so much I want to talk to you about! Like how did you find the perfect moves to execute a bot? When did you learn? Do you have a teacher? Can you be my teacher!?” Random gladiator bot: “Will you shut it! I think you’d do us all a favor you miserably little—” The bot stops once Megatron’s glare landed on him. The bot grumbles as he purposely bumps into the younger bot. I-035 grumbles a bit at the shove, but quickly replaced by a smile looking at Megatron. Megatron gives them a faint smile as they continue their walk.

Constantly chatting about their upcoming fights and praising his signature death blows.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the younger bot was slowly growing on him.

The older mech even started helping them train.

Megatron found himself going to watch their fights, admittedly impressed and smiling when he saw them execute one of his moves with extreme precision.

He couldn’t feel any prouder of his pupil.

Sadly, their happy times came to an end when Megatron was sent to another arena.

It would be a couple of years before Megatron would reunite with them once again.

Megatron is walking through the crowd of bots at his recent gathering. He spots a familiar bot dragging someone to him. It was Deadlock. Deadlock: “Megatron! Megatron!” Megatron smiles at the new Decepticon. Deadlock: “I want you to meet a friend of mine.” I-035 stares wide optic at the larger grey mech. A smile starts forming. They take their servo out. I-035: “Megatron, long time no, see?” Megatron mirrors their smile and shakes it before noticing the badge on their chassis. Megatron: “I see you chose a side.” The glistening Decepticon insignia matches the light in their optics. I-035: “Just following an old mentors pedesteps, and hoping he might still have some things to teach me?” Megatron chuckles a bit. Megatron: “Maybe this old mentor wants the both of you in his inner circle.” Deadlock and I-035 look at each other in surprise. They look at each other, almost as if having a silent conversation before I-035 turns to the grey mech. I-035: “We’d be honored Megatron.”

It wouldn’t be long before Megatron would give them a ‘proper’ name.

Quickly, the name Ironhold became associated with the causes goal.

The old ones at least…

It would also be a couple of months before the war would have started.

To the Autobots, the name Ironhold was one of the most feared names on the battlefield.

They were infamously known for their efficiency of taking out bots and strongholds assigned to them.

It only made sense being one of Megatron’s most trusted Con’s.

To the Decepticons, it was a bit of a different story.

They were still known for their efficiency and work, but they were a good bot.

Ironhold often looked out for their fellow soldiers and ‘family’.

Throughout the years, they even earned the title as ‘Megatron’s Child’.

They were a bit embarrassed by this at first, but when Megatron soon calling them ‘his child’, they took in the title with stride.

There was no doubt that the two had grown closer, fighting alongside each other as one.

But as the war grew on, Ironhold started finding themselves getting closer with some of the other Con’s as Megatron’s fixation on Prime grew.

It would also be the time where they would begin to have their doubts about the meaning of the Decepticon cause.

It was Starscream who made them question certain things in the cause.

As much as they knew what kind of mech the Second in Command was, they still held some respect for him.

He wasn’t in that position for nothing.

And while his methods and tactics were… a bit much for Ironhold’s taste, they still respected him.

To Starscream, Ironhold was a puzzle.

How could some bot be efficient and ruthless in battle and still find it in their spark to trust and look after others?

He hated how they could be so kind and helpful to others.

This was war!

No one is supposed to be that kind!

Those kind of bots were the first ones to offline during the first DAYS of the war.

Ironhold mainly left Starscream to his own devices.

But Megatron started hurting him caught their attention.

Hurting him as punishment they understood, but not for no reason or on pseudo evidence.

Megatron launches Starscream across the room. The Seeker landing on his back. Megatron marches over and goes to punch him. The blow never came. Megatron looked to his side to see Ironhold barely holding his arm from harming the Seeker. Ironhold: “Megatron it was not him! The files were not his fault!” Starscream takes this moment to curl up closer to the wall, away from the two larger bots. Megatron: “Someone needs to pay! Or are you offering to take his place?” Ironhold: “What I’m saying is to get your helm out of your tailpipe and find some actual evidence! Not everything that goes wrong here is Starscream’s fault. We are bots who make mistakes from time to time.” Megatron sneers at them. They stand their ground. Their hold on his arm never falters. Ironhold: “Why don’t you go train or take it out on an Autobot if you still need to punch something?” Megatron roughly gets his arm from their grasp. Megatron: “This is the last time you do something like that again. Understood?” Ironhold: “Understood Megatron.” Megatron brushes past them and heads out the door. Ironhold slowly walks up to Starscream and offers him their servo. Starscream tries to get up by himself, but finds it a bit harder to do, so he does take their servo. The pair stands in silence. Starscream: “Some Decepticon you are.” Ironhold rolls their optics. Ironhold: “You’re welcome, Screamer. Let’s get you to the med bay.”

Soundwave was the mech who grounded them to the cause.

Working with Soundwave was a regular occurrence seeing that if Megatron was not involved with planning, it was them.

Soundwave didn’t mind Ironhold, finding them to be one of the only other good Con’s around that was still loyal to the cause.

This would naturally introduce them to the minicon’s.

Ironhold was one of the few Con’s that Soundwave trusted to keep them safe.

The minicons liked Ironhold enough to not cause too much trouble.

Soundwave enters the room. Ironhold has Rumble pinned with one servo to the wall while reading a data pad in the other. Frenzy was duct taped to the opposite wall. Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw were perched on a shelf. Ravage was on the berth stretching. Soundwave: “Ironhold. Explain.” Ironhold without looking up from their datapad: “I told Rumble I needed 3 minutes of quiet to read or else he would get sent to the wall.” Rumble: “I thought you meant like Frenzy!” Ironhold: “Ran out of tape. You had this coming Rumble.” Ironhold puts down the datapad and gently places Rumble back on the ground. Rumble: “You’re lucky I’m such a nice bot and not bringin’ out my pliers on your pedes!” Ironhold: “You won’t do that.” Rumble: “Really? And what makes you so sure?” Ironhold smirks at him. Ironhold: “You like me too much to do that.” Rumble starts stuttering and gets warm. Ironhold starts walking out the room. Soundwave: “You are responsible if he is broken.” Ironhold shrugs and begins to walk out the room. Soundwave telepathically: “Next time, you need to be more direct with Rumble. This horrible flirting is only going to give us all a helmache at the end of the day.” Ironhold feels their entire frame on fire. Soundwave telepathically: “Everyone knows Ironhold. Do not even attempt to deny it.” Ironhold telepathically: “…Please don’t tell Megatron.” Soundwave telepathically: “Try different tactics and we will see.” Ironhold telepathically: “Deal.”

Ironhold’s view on fighting started changing as the war dragged on for years.

Their fighting style changed as soon as they all arrived on Earth.

The Cons just thought it was their way of changing things up a bit, spicing up the old routine.

Ironhold just really didn’t want to hurt the humans.

They had nothing to do with their war, why drag them into it?

Soundwave and the mini’s had caught them saving couple of humans before, but never said anything about it.

Why would they?

It wasn’t like it was hindering Ironhold’s performance.

But they were not the only ones to stop the giant con getting humans to safety.

Many Bot including Optimus had seen Ironhold getting in danger for getting a few humans to safety.

It confused a lot of bots.

Ironhold never once thought of deserting the cause, much less defecting.

They would never betray their family like that… right?

It was a bad day.

Megatron had decided to go after a city of humans that were well away from their targeted area.

It raised a lot of warning signs for Ironhold.

This wasn’t a military advantage or their target, he was doing this for fun.

Ironhold tried to stop him, reminding him of their plans.

He didn’t listen as he rained fire on the city below.

Ironhold did their best to get as many humans to safety until the bots came.

Some of their fellow Cons tried to tell them to let it go, to let Megatron do what he does best.

Thankfully, the Bots do arrive on time.

Everything was getting too much.

The guilt was festering in their tanks seeing the human’s eyes filled with fear, anger, sadness, and so many more emotions.

They had to gently push some who were still in shock from the explosions and the fact that a Decepticon had saved them.

Was this how everyone looked at them?

They didn’t like it.

Ironhold spots Megatron aiming his fusion canon at an injured Autobot trying to shield some humans with his frame. Ironhold: “MEGATRON!” Ironhold pulls back his arm as the shot was fired upward. Megatron turned to them confused and enraged. Megatron: “Ironhold! What is the meaning of this!” Ironhold: “This isn’t even our target Megatron! We are nowhere near it! Why?!” Megatron gets his arm back. Ironhold: “We need to regroup if we are going to make it—” Megatron: “No.” Ironhold slowly realizes that this action was indeed because he wanted to. Ironhold: “These humans have done nothing for our war. Why drag them into it?” Megatron sneers at them. Megatron: “Is that insubordination my child.” Ironhold winced at the venom in their normally endearing nickname. Ironhold: “Megatron—” Megatron: “Speak again and I will terminate you myself.” Ironhold and the Autobot behind them optics widened. Ironhold stood in front of the Autobot and humans protectively. Ironhold: “If this is what the Decepticon’s stand for, I will not—” BANG! Ironhold’s frame fell on top of the Bot and humans limp, with a smoldering hole in their chassis. The battlefield had gone quiet. Megatron starts walking back from the limp frame. Megatron: “There is no use for traitors in my ranks.”

The Con’s follow their leader in shock.

Optimus and Ratchet race to the bot under Ironhold’s frame.

To their surprise, they were still online, barely managing to keep themselves from crushing the bot underneath them and the humans.

Ironhold looked at the Prime and bowed their helm.

Expecting death.

They did not expect him to tell the doctor to patch them up.

They were taken to their base where Ratchet could properly treat them before being taken into a different room for interrogation.

Ironhold half expected Prowl or Jazz to be in charge of this part.

They did not expect Optimus himself to come in.

No one heard what took place inside that room.

But after 3 days, Optimus had announced to the others that Ironhold would be joining their ranks.

This surprised a lot of bots.

Many simply refused to believe a Con as rotten as they were could never be an Autobot.

It was a rough transition.

Ironhold staying close to Optimus and Ratchet at all times before slowly integrating with the others.

They wanted nothing to do with the former Con and they did not blame them one bit.

Their saving grace came in the form of a familiar bot.

Ironhold is looking down while sitting in the corner refueling bit by bit. Smaller pedes come into their view. Ironhold: “If you are going to dump sludge on my helm again I—oh, it’s you.” It was the injured bot they had saved on that fateful day. He had a smile on his face. A kind one. It had been a while since they had gotten one of those. The bot sat down in the seat next to them holding his own cube of energon. Ironhold: “Don’t you have friends you’d rather sit with?” Hot Rod: “I was hoping you’d be one of them. I’m Hot Rod by the way.”

The conversation was a bit awkward at the beginning, mainly taking in the form of a friendly interegation before the bot left.

Ironhold was a bit surprised that the next day Hot Rod had returned to the same spot.

He even brought Bumblebee to chat with as well.

Slowly but surely ironhold started integrating into the ranks.

Ironhold knew that there were things they did that would forever stay in the minds of these bots… but they were grateful enough to call some their friends, dare they say family.

That word was a sacred one now.

The bot swore to only give the title to those worthy of it.

Truly worthy.

They made a mistake before they do not intend on doing it again.

It would be a while before Ironhold would return to the battlefield.

Mainly as a precautionary to the Cons and to the Bots getting used to them.

Thanks to some frame altercations, a fresh paintjob, and an energetic Hot Rod by their side, Ironhold soon began fighting for the Autobots.

Did it hurt to see the faces of their former ‘family’?

Yes.

Did it hurt to see that they did not recognize them?

Yes.

Did it hurt when they shielded their new friends from fusion blasts and fire?

Oh, most certainly.

On a happier note, Drift had also defected meaning they had one extra friend.

It took a lot of effort for them to start making amends, though it was mainly centered around trust.

As said before, as big and ruthless as Ironhold could get, they were still a good bot.

Timeskip after the war…

The war was over.

The Decepticons had lost.

Ironhold was at a lost.

For the first time in their life, they could stop fighting.

It felt… weird.

The sight of Cybertron made them sick to their tanks.

Too many painful wounds had been reopened.

Especially after what Megatron had done…

So, they did the next best thing, they were one of the first to sign up on Rodimus’s crew.

Ironhold is standing next to Rodimus on the bridge as the ship is starting to take off. Ironhold: “Engine’s are almost ready. I think you should take a seat Captain.” Rodimus makes a face at them. Rodimus: “Hold, what did we talk about titles?” Ironhold: “Its only out of respect Rodimus.” Rodimus: “Well, here’s an order, you can ONLY call me by my name.” Ironhold chuckles a bit. Ironhold: “Understood… Rodimus.” Rodimus: “That’s better. You know what ‘Hold, I don’t see this day possibly going wrong.” Ironhold gives him a serious look. Ironhold: “You shouldn’t say that Rodimus.” Rodimus: “And why?” Ironhold pinches their nose: “Because when someone does say that, something immediately goes wrong.” Rodimus: “You really believe in that—” BOOM! Cue the quantum engine fiasco. Ironhold accidentally falls on top of Rodimus due to the shaking. Ironhold: “I TOLD YOU!” Rodimus just wheezes as he tries to get off from underneath their giant frame.

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

I’m sorry your probably still up, I’m sorry you’re probably suffering and scared right now, but thank you for posting. Thank you for not giving into doom. Thank you for putting a little more love and hope and reminders to hold onto your community and survive into the world right now. I really appreciate it as someone who can’t sleep tonight. I hope you rest well and survive, even if it is mother fucking impossible thrive in these conditions. Sending you a guttural field to scream in together rn.

This is a very sweet message, thank you for sending it. And I hope you’re also able to find some peace tonight. Admittedly, I think I’m doing significantly better than many people right now, and to some extent I’m only as calm as I am right now because I very intentionally stayed out of the mire for most of the day. Instead, I read some stories that made me smile, and doodled some of the remaining fall colors, and later took a walk while the first snow of the season was falling, beautiful massive flakes coating the trees. I’m looking forward to drinking some warm beverages tomorrow while the snow keeps falling and getting to talk to my therapist. A blue jay came to my bird feeder this morning for the first time in a while, and perhaps tomorrow they will come again.

A couple hours ago I got the chance to video call a beloved friend who I haven’t talked to in a while, and it was really grounding to just catch up with someone I care about in the midst of all this. No better time to phone a friend and share the burden than the middle of a sleepless night.

I’ve spent a lot of time recently appreciating the resilience of my local riparian ecosystem. I live in the suburbs, but even in the middle of this heavily human altered environment, life still flourishes. Just this year I’ve seen owls and muskrats and turtles and cranes and raccoons and hawks and a very adorable juvenile skunk. I think when the storm is gone I will once again go out to pick up trash around the creek and do my part to help this little ecosystem thrive.

I think for anyone who is struggling right now or tomorrow or any of the days after, the best thing to do always, is to find someone to help. Yesterday (or the day before yesterday at this point I suppose), I helped one of my neighbors get through the aftermath of a domestic violence incident and find somewhere safe for her and her kid to go. Being able to provide support for someone who needed it in such a tangible way was really nice, and I know I can always look forward to finding more opportunities to help the people around me.

That’s what’s most important right now, I think. Helping your neighbors whenever you can, holding space with your loved ones to cry and laugh together, and doing something practical and tangible like cleaning up the trash by a creek.

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

@lilacpaperbird ask and you shall receive context!

Train story - there are about 1000 tellings of this story but this is I think the best rendition - not least because it includes Gen and also the crucial and delightful detail that she was high during this whole event. TLDR: That time Jared "stopped all the trains in Europe" because Gen's baggage was left on a platform in Amsterdam.

Eating raw ribs - again there are a couple of different tellings of this but this is a solid on that has been gifed. TLDR: Jared came back hungry late at night when him and Jensen lived together and SOMEHOW accidentally ate raw meat! And was subsequently incredibly sick (as one might imagine!).

Stapled jeans - clip talking about Jared's (lack of) style more generally - story about the jeans is a couple of minutes in (but watch it all if you haven't a true DELIGHT). TLDR: Jared had a pair of jeans he loved SO much he started stapling them back together when they ripped up the back, and he kept them like this for years (including they can be spotted on red carpets!) Gen (and probably Jensen) eventually made them "disappear".

Thinking he was dead and should call set to let them know - by far the best version of this story (also well worth watching the video feat. tiny Jared and his lil Texas accent). TLDR: Jared was filming Flight of the Pheonix in Africa, he flipped the car he was driving over, ran out of the car because he thought it might explode. Then when it didn't and he couldn't hear any birds or sounds, he decided he MUST be dead. And then immediately thought that he needed to call set to let them know he was dead. (beloved himbo).

Fear of bears - many references to Jared's bear fear but this is particularly funny. Also in case you were wondering - there are some bears he's ok with ;) TLDR: he's scared of bears that's about it haha.

Took ballet in high school - talking about taking ballet here. TLDR: Jared took ballet whilst doing theatre at school because his theatre teacher thought it would help kids feel more comfortable with their bodies (v sweet actually).

Asking Eddie Vedder for his cigarette - Quite a few different versions of this story - older ones said that it was Eddie's drink but I'm inclined to believe the most recent cigarette versions - here's a good one. TLDR: J2 met Eddie Vedder (lead singer of Pearl Jam - Jared's fave band) at a party. A slightly drunk and every starstruck Jared asked for a drag of Eddie's cigarette. Jensen very quickly dragged him out of there lmao.

Owns 7 of the same black shirt and black trousers - talking about this here (also socks with holes in). TLDR: idk I think this one is kinda self explanatory lol.

National Forensics League winner - here is him doing the Duo Interpretation that he won - and here is him and his partner winning - also BONUS Jared coming back as a judge in 2019 and giving this adorable flustered little speech featuring Jared vs podium heights and Jared vs microphones. TLDR: National Forensics League is a speech and debate competition - Jared and his acting partner won the category of Du Interpretation in 1998 when Jared was 16. They had to perform an acting scene together where they were not allow to directly look at or interact with each other. Definetly recommend watching the performance its really good!

Enjoy this promo video for the show lmao. TLDR: some kind of 'punked' style show but horror movie themed - Jared was the presenter - it only lasted for 8 episodes. Definitely frat boy Jared vibes lmao.

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

I've decided to just start watching through a bunch of corny horror franchises. First was all of the Candyman series, now Children of the Corn, then next I'm thinking From Dusk Til Dawn.

[puhpandas]

as someone who isnt super excited for sotm for certain reasons I am really glad that like. it's clear that since ruin theyve been setting up for carnival and sotm IS carnival. so now that carnival is finally coming out, afterwards theyll be moving on to other plotlines since the main villain stuff is sorted out

I'm just rlly happy to finally see a clear direction for how the story is gonna be playing out with like "okay these games were leading up to this so after this will be open possibilites" instead of like. absolutely no info about each upcoming game and being left guessing before it releases and just having to wait and see what's in it and if anything you're looking forward to will be in it

it feels like they have a plan and a solid direction for what they're trying to do and after carnival releases thatll be all that buildup coming to fruition. & we already know from the Scott interview that theres another release 'beyond sotm' that's 'super exciting' so maybe thatll be focusing on another big currently untouched (which is basically all of them) plotline, or even the big campaign game that dawko has been calling security breach 2

[front-facing-pokemon]

[giddlygoat]

my brother can make me laugh without moving at all. he can make me laugh on command, just by existing, and there is no physical tell or indication that it is about to happen. it’s like he can will me to laugh and i will. of course we’re not telepathic, but we do speak in unison sometimes. we improvise like no one’s business. we could fool anyone into believing we are psychically linked. when i try to explain it, i sound silly saying it out loud, but i really CAN tell what he’s thinking. we exchange so much information just with a look. he can make me cry laughing and he doesn’t even have to move

[sonknuxadow]

do you think the mario and sonic at the olympic games series will ever get another game.... i wanna see sage as a playable character i think it would be cute and silly

[autumnrory]

i've been going into the liam tag from time to time the last year where both his fans and people who hated him were Weird about him well before there were any allegations so i would get curious, i don't even remember what started it (maybe it was merely looking for photos that update accounts wouldn't post), but i normally try to avoid going into anything but edit tags for people i enjoy bc there are so many nonsense takes

and of course happening to go through today before the news broke bc i wanted to see what was being said about the abuse as i've only gotten bits on twitter and of course there were many posts rightfully calling it out and all but there's that weird mentality which i was getting a lot more of from twitter but some on here where they're like??? celebrating it and girlboss-ing and i'm just like. okay it's great that you're believing a victim but you're making light of it by talking about it like it's just another stan thing, i have seen that time and time again when this kind of stuff comes out and if people already thought that person was annoying or whatever they're just like "oh yes! i knew it! their career is ruined haha!" and it's like. you clearly don't actually care about the horrible things this person has done and just want to brag that you somehow ~knew~ a stranger's vibes were off and it's so beyond gross like you could use that energy to support a person's victims and instead you'll just try to prove you stan the right people and never the wrong ones or whatever

[dawei-s]

Close to my grandma's age when she had my dad literally wtf

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

im gonna shit myself i just saw the voting gauntlet results and edeIgard was in round 1 in two brackets and lost both brackets

as ever we keep the edeIgard loses in round 1 legends going hella strong

[kakusu-shipping]

💞 What are your cradle ships?

🧵 What are some themes about cradle ships that you enjoy?

😈 Do you prefer to keep your cradle ships innocent and chaste or do you make them spicy?

Thankyou so so so much for asking!! I'll try not to make this post too long but I may ramble a bit djkkfds

💞 What are your cradle ships?

Izuku/All Might/Bakugo - MHA

Bakugo/Best Jeanist - MHA

Twice/Toga - MHA

Tomura/Izuku - MHA

Molayne/Sophocles - Pokemon SuMo

Kukui/Ash - Pokemon SuMo

Drayden/Axew - Pokemon BW

May/Maxie/Archie - Pokemon OrAs

Mest/Wendy - Fairytail

Rouge/Frosch - Fairytail

Kiriyama/Hayashida - March Comes like a Lion

Ichinose/Toudou - Love at Fourteen

Peridot/Steven - Steven Universe

Grime/Sasha - Amphibia

Andrias/Marcy - Amphibia

Belos/Hunter - TOH

Phillip/Collector/King - TOH

Kipo/Jamack - Kipo and the age of wonderbeasts

Kipo/Hugo - Kipo and the age of wonderbeasts

Black Hat/505 - Villainous

Papyrus/Frisk - Undertale

Papyrus/Flowey - Undertale

Spamton/Kris - Deltarune

Shuu/Nageki - Hatoful Boyfriend

Hitori/Nageki - Hatoful Boyfriend

Morgo/Misfortune - Little Misfortune

Feddy/Gregory - Fnaf Security Breach

Flik/Nina - Suikoden 2

I feel like these are pretty normie type picks, but that's to be expected considering my start was in Maxvid

I recognize now there's a different term for Teen/Adult ships but I both don't remember what is was and don't care particularly about the difference, to me Cradle Ship just means Adult/Minor.

🧵 What are some themes about cradle ships that you enjoy?

All of my Cradle ships are pure fluff, everything fine and nothing is wrong sort of concepts, there's never anything dark or bad or twisted about most of them, the exception being Andrias/Marcy and Belos/Hunter, but even those have their soft everything's fine AUs

I like guilt in Cradle ships and the exploration of the Grey area between parental and romantic love, mostly in the sense that kids, especially young kids, don't have a Different Types of Love understanding, it's something that is taught instead of innate in human understanding.

Too bad I don't really have any Cradle ships outside of self ships where the younger is young enough for that. Still. Love when the older is agonizing over being in love with a minor. They think it's complicated, the kid thinks it's simple.

I think it's a funny dynamic

😈 Do you prefer to keep your cradle ships innocent and chaste or do you make them spicy?

It depends on the ship for sure but honestly ever sense the porn ban of 2018 I've kinda fallen off on Ships being NSFW at all. Most, if not all of my ships, are SFW by default just cause I'm Ace and don't see a lot of nsfw art anymore.

Some of them I'm like "Oh yeah this guy's a massive pervert about this" but even then they're mostly just weird about it in their head and are too guilty to actually act on those thoughts.

Again. I think that's a really funny dynamic. Tortured Pervert X Teasing them on purpose.

[helielune]

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)