#this is supposed to be for day 3: storms

[impossiblepluto]

"You think I'm gonna pass up the opportunity- 'here lies Jack Dalton, he rode the lightning'?" "Any last words?" "Well, I don't know. I ain't gonna say I love you or anything." "Yeah, I don't love you either."

[screechingfromthevoid]

Dorian with the crown keepers in some quiet taverns in quiet towns as they travel, he's always up late. He can't quite fall asleep well. So he sneaks out to a different tavern than the one they're staying at. He doesn't want to risk someone recognizing him in the morning.

At the new taverns, he goes straight to their stages. The emptier the better but it's not hard for him to convince a half drunk bard to get even drunker.

Sometimes he'd sit on the poorly lit stage and strum his mandolin and not say a word at all as he started to pluck out a tune. The chords are simple at first, something he heard in a dream. Every night spent working, adds another measure. Deeper swells and higher jumps. A mournful reverberation. He was stuck for a while.

Until he hears "glad you're not here... wish you were anyways".

Then, disjointed and seemingly unexpected, a reprise of that first plucking, an octave and a half lower. Still major, still jovial. Just. Deeper. Just... Realer.

I'll fix the transition later, he thought.

That's when the lyrics came. They weren't good but they spilled out of his mouth involuntarily. If it were up to him, those thoughts, those feelings would stay caged in his heart. Instead, a room full of strangers knew him more fully than his intimates.

Protector of air, guard of heart, bulwark of us

His simple plucked out tune, a dreamed up melody for a man he could only dream of.

You say you don't lead. But when I look to you, you're drenched in the boreal crux

A deep and quiet start to the encroaching swell, getting louder and higher.

Crowns of spiders couldn't tempt me astray from your due north

Trilled eight notes that felt like crawling legs and whispy silk on the back of the neck.

I thought you might be the wind caught in my sails. Always only you caught in my fibers

His last word carries a sour note, it sounded wrong, out of tune. Like he was.

A storm by another name, gold and red and melting black, tore us off course

Dorian's run was backwards, like he was free falling from a ledge. Accidentals plaguing it's decent.

It's harder than ever to orient through shades of grey and leave behind no remorse...

That reverberation was accompanied by a strain in his voice. Something that happened every night once he made it to that point. It came next to a swallow of something in his throat. That transition came to him, when Dorian thought about what got him out of his slump, he laughed. Bashfully, sheepishly. He always felt his face burn.

My heart aches. Stay steadfast. Fairer winds...

What a thing to say instead of I miss you.

I have stolen a world away. You are there, I am here. And all I want is to be together when we wake

His melody, their melody, picked up again. His fingers started to pluck staccatos in between the languid chords.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or so they say. This distance has only made mine bleed icar

Dorian wouldn't allow himself to end this with a confession. At least, not one of guilt. It wasn't supposed to be about his straying. It was supposed to be about Orym. It was supposed to be about the man he-

I look for the direction ivy green grows. I look to you still, to find my way.

Sometimes he ended the song with another reprise of his dreamy melody. Sometimes, his fingers would slip on the strings and rancid mistakes would ring out into the crowd. It seemed to depend on how hard they fought that day. How much more Opal stained.

Dorian would always thanked the crowd before taking up the coins that were haphazardly thrown on stage. He wouldn't set out a hat or cup, it wasn't about that, but there was always coin at his feet by the end.

He'd walk quiet streets and thought about Bertrand. Dorian understood now, what he said about walking alone at night. He stepped carefully up lulling tavern stairs thinking about picking up a bottle for a round of "what the fuck is up with that" with friend that weren't waiting for him. He slid into the room he shared with his brother, acknowledging every time that this was the first time they did that. They never shared a room or a bed as children. They didn't share much. Now fully grown, he felt they were more childish than ever.

Dorian curled into himself on his cold side of the bed and thought about how he used to have a pulsing heart beat on his skin. Whether it was across his legs, against his back, against his chest. He never felt loneliness like this before. He never felt the absence of someone before.

And he was worse for it

[mechazushi]

Calm Before The Storm {A Kn8 short story} [Directly inspired by Ch. 117] soooooo...spoilers

Kneeling on a pillow before a low peach wood desk, settled a man. A powerful man with a powerful presence, having long hair and dressed in dark purple robes with woven black silk and kaiju armor, fitting for a high ranking kaiju killer. He continued to write, unbothered by the audience before him. Standing at attention beside the official was a soldier in full regalia, his face obscured into anonymity.

"If that is everything, then everyone is dismised." Soshiro Hoshina, leader of the Hoshina clan, commanded to the squad leaders he had summoned to his personal office.

While the rest had bowed graciously and filed out in-sync, one had decidedly stayed behind against orders. Konomi Okonogi, an lower ranked advisor to the clan had stood unshaken before the forth son of the Hoshinas. She was waiting quietly for him to acknowledge her on his own. A small moment passed, filled with the quiet swishing and slicing of a stiff brush gliding over paper. The soldier, noticing that the advisor hadn't left had also noticed his commander refusing to acknowledge the wayward interloper. The soldier let out a muffled cough as a cover for him to disguise a nudge to his higher officer with his foot. Being jarred from his concentration on official paperwork, Soshiro finally decided to address the nosy advisor in the room.

"Is there something to be left said, Miss Okonogi? As you can see, everyone else had left."

"Yes, there is." The locally stationed advisor stated, "It's about your continued decision to employ someone with... lackluster talents as your personal guard. Your family remains ever concern about such choices."

"And they will continue to worry as they are prone to do so as blood relatives." Hoshina finally looked up from his work and looked at the advisor fully, "They may question it all they like, but it will not change the fact that I have made it." He looked back down dismissively to begin again on his paperwork.

"Since the fourth son of a somewhat prominent family is not in that high of demand, my guard's skills are sufficient enough for his task which, need I remind you, is escorting me across town to my family's manor and back. Nothing more." He resumed the meditative writing as a way of making his point clear and matter resolved.

Okonogi sniffed stiffly as she took the transgression silently. She bowed nonetheless and shuffled herself out the office door. After closing it behind her, the soldier let out a low sigh of relief. Hoshina chuckled to himself, somehow finding all of it funny.

"Ya know, for a group of people ya hardly see, they sure like to press on personal matters." The soldier finally spoke when he felt the sudden tension leave his shoulders.

"They're not pressing the matter, she is." Soshiro sighed as he started the process of cleaning up his brush, "She's being paid to question any decision I make that doesn't sound like any my family would make themselves." Hanging the brush on a rack and shuffling some items on his desk around for cleanliness sake, the commander eventually lifted himself from his kneeling position and let out a long and low groan as he stretched, satisfied.

"Come along, darling. After leading training and all of that paperwork, I feel a deep need for a cleansing." Soshiro said as he slid his hands into his oversized sleeves.

"I've told you not to call me that." The soldier's warning was muffled through the clay face mask he wore.

"Oh please, we're the only people on his side of the manor now. And in a few minutes, I get to call you whatever I want." Hoshina retaliated with a hint of joy undercutting the mocking statement.

The two of them filed out of the small office, the commander in front and his loyal body guard never far behind. It was well past sunset and the sky made it clear it was reaching late dusk. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the paper doors that lined the long hallway to the natural hot spring located on premises. Once they entered the outdoor bath and had closed the door, making sure it couldn't be opened easily, only then did the energy in the air begin to waver. It changed from official and stale, to feeling charged, almost teetering on playful or mischievous.

Soshiro found a lit candle on a nearby stool and followed his guard as they walked the stone path that lined the edge of the spring. Kafka did his part of unhooking metal lanterns that hung from tall wooden post high in the air and brought them down to chest level for Soshiro to light them. After making certain that any night breeze wouldn't extinguish the little flame easily, did Kafka hang the lantern back up and move on. They made a full lap around the spring and walked back to the front of the bath. Soshiro tugged on one end of a strip of leather that held back most of the glossy locks that draped from his regal head and sighed as its weight shifted.

"Well, are you going to help me or not?" The commander tittered playfully as he stoked his hair over his shoulder. He watched his soldier tug at the strings holding his face mask in place. A hand came up to rub away the thin sheen of sweat that had built up under it as the other placed the mask on a table.

"One of these days' we're gonna get caught because of your impatience" The soldier said as he made himself see clearly again.

Dropping the mask revealed the man underneath to be Kafka Hibino, once a lowly foot soldier in the Monkey squad, now currently having the coveted position of being Soshiro Hoshina's personal escort and body guard. A position he wasn't aiming for, but with how his relationship with the fourth son of the Hoshina's was going, it wasn't one he minded terribly. While it was blatant favoritism that earned him the position, it was clear to the both of them that it could never be trusted to anyone else. He began to walk over to where Soshiro was waiting patiently to have help removing the heavy Kaiju-leather plates that make up a hunter's armor.

"If you keep talking about it, eventually you'll make it so. I almost wonder if you want it to happen." Soshiro sang with a honeyed tone.

"It will happen if you don't fix the problem of not being able to keep your hands to yourself." Kafka stated as he began to mess with the ties holding the pauldrons to his shoulders. He smirked as he chuckled in his mind, thinking about all the times he had to stop his commander from launching himself across tables at people, from starting duels in the street, or making sure he didn't get caught with his hand snaking their way onto his body guard's... person.

"I haven't ever heard you complain about it before." His commander said with mock admonishment. He held onto the discarded pauldrons as Kafka began to work on the belts holding the chest piece in place. "Maybe it just means we're both rotten to the core." Hoshina continued to tease as he leaned back closer to Kafka's chest.

"It's not hard to be influenced by you when you make yourself so inviting." Kafka hummed as he leaned in closer to Soshiro's ear, "I just consider myself lucky that I'm the only one my commander had decided to make himself a completely vulnerable fool in front of." He whispered as his hands traveled southward, past the belt that held up the lower portion of armor and unexpectedly squeezed his partner's upper thigh.

Soshiro jabbed him with his elbow in retaliation, causing the two of them to giggle and make Kafka lose his grip on the belt. He finished with his task and helped remove the chest plate afterward. Once he gathered all the removed armor and set them on the table, did he offer himself up to his commander for the same courtesy. Kafka let him pull at the strings holding his helmet in place, the both of them knowing full well that he could do it himself. They knew as well that Soshiro liked the opportunity to hold his lover's face in his hands.

After taking off the helmet, Kafka took it out of Soshiro's hands so his could be free to caress his. A face marked with long healed scars and patchy scruff, it was a face he found only his commander seemed to truly love. Fingertips traced the edges of its rough details while eyes drank in its softer ones. The small maze of wrinkles that lined his lips and brow, those gem-like blue-green eyes that could melt snow capped mountains or freeze them solid, and that warmth of a good soul that seemed to seep from every piece of contact his lover's hands could make on his face. These details were expressed to him, time and time again, but he never believed them until he heard it straight from his commander's honest lips.

One hand removed itself from the helmet it was holding so it could trap Hoshina's and bring it closer to his lips, allowing a moment where Kafka could drink in the other's essence as well. Savoring the cool skin on his and smelling the ink and leather oil sunk deep into Soshiro's natural perfume, permanently etching his presence onto the ridges of Kafka's mind. He sniffed and sighed and kissed it lightly before he let it go. Kafka liked to watch intently as those same hands roamed his body, giving him the same care and attention to his armor that he gave to his commander. It wasn't long before he was stripped of his armor as well. He took it from Soshiro as laid it to rest next to the other pile on the table.

Hoshina began to busy himself with removing the cloth robes that remained, not giving them any loving courtesy like the armor was given. They were quickly shed onto the stones before Soshiro stepped foot into the searing warmth of the spring water. Dunking his head in, he resurfaced swiftly and smoothed away some errant strands of hair from his vision. He began to tug on the last of the leather strip that held the rest of his hair back as he watched Kafka from the borders of the spring. As it all fell down heavily, Soshiro busied his hands with sweeping it behind his shoulders while he continued to rudely gawk at his partner undressing.

He had seen that man naked more times than he had seen himself, and he never tired from the view. Strong muscle wrapped and coiled around the soldier's arms while his torso held a softer image. Hoshina knew better than to doubt that rounded appearance, having seen and certainly felt what that upper body was capable of. His tongue darted out and swiped across his lips in reaction to seeing the top shirt being removed fully and folded onto the table. He moved closer to the rounded stone skirting of the small pool and saddled up to the edge in quiet anticipation. As Kafka's hands reached to waist of his pants, they stilled as he developed the familiar sensation of being watched.

"Do you really have to stare at me every time I undress?" Kafka called back, not bothering to turn around to confirm his suspicions.

"Do you have to act like a bashful maiden every time I do?" Soshiro teased as he stayed rooted to his spot.

Hoshina found himself biting his lip as Kafka just sighed and removed the rest of his clothing. He moved out of the way as Kafka strode over and began to act as if he was about to enter the pool, only to sweep the discarded robes off the floor and smirked coyly at Soshiro as he walked away with them

"I don't know why it bothers you so much. It's not like I haven't had you under me or anything." Soshiro teased back as he watched Kafka continue to put away the discarded attire.

"You start up that kind of attitude this early and I'm leaving." Kafka grumbled as his cheeks flushed bright red.

"If you're not in the mood, just say so." His commander pouted as he turned away from him in slacking scorn.

"Only because I'd like a chance to actually relax first." Kafka said with easy-going indignance. He returned to the pool holding the jade comb they used whenever they came to the spring together. Soshiro scoffed, but shifted himself into position anyway as his partner carefully splashed his way in.

"It would work that way as well. Hell's, I'd like to think that you would end up more relaxed by the time I was done." he joked as he leaned back into Kafka's awaiting lap, propping himself up between his knees.

"You're incorrigible." Kafka sighed as he shook his head.

He spent the passing time slowly raking the comb through the long silken strands of Soshiro's hair, taking care to brush slowly and chip away at any knots going from bottom to top. After making sure it was free of tangles, did he take more of their time combing through it all in long passes, just to savor the feeling. Soshiro reveled in the attention, never not once hating the feeling of being attended to like this. Sure, he had servants help him dress in the morning and even do his hair, but none of it felt the same as when it was done by someone he loved. Every few passes of the comb, he would feel short nails caress and scritch as his scalp, removing an itch that he didn't realize was even there. On windless nights, Soshiro could hear a deep, reverberating hum from the depths of Kafka's chest, usually a marching chant or a drinking hymn. The repeated, loving motions, the all-encompassing blanket of warmth, paired with the harmony of the wind and leaves matching the water and waves lapping at the stone beat for beat. Hoshina would willingly go penny-less and destitute, sick and infirm, if it meant he got to keep these moments forever.

Deep in the cavern of his blissfully silent mind, it took a while for Soshiro to notice that Kafka had stopped brushing and took up plaiting the infinite length. To be honest, he wasn't a fan of it. Leaving in the braid too long usually bent it into weak crimps and he could already hear the judging murmurs of his servants who had to deal with it in the morning. He was aware that Kafka was just the type of person who always felt the need to keep his hands busy. A trait that benefited him when it came to squad relations. Rarely was there ever an idle task when Kafka was released from his body guard duties. It was just how he spent his time relaxing, but did Kafka really have to take it out on his hair?

"You're doing it again." Soshiro muttered lazily, not bothering to stop his lover.

"I know." Kafka responded simply, the smile unmistakable in his soft voice.

"You know everyone hates it when you do that." The commander sighed. He heard a puffy chuckle before Kafka responded.

"Do you know why I do it anyway?" he said as he held his hand out for the leather hair tie.

"Mmm... Humor me." Soshiro softly moaned and he began to feel those gentle hands move again.

"Because no one knows it's me." He whispered, "Because it makes your hair do a fun little dance for me as I follow you around. It's something I do to you that lets me remember that I'm yours." He finished curling the long braid around itself into a snug bun and cinched it up with the leather cord

"And you're mine." Kafka tacked on tenderly, along with a quick peck to an unsuspecting commander's forehead.

"Well then... I guess I can't bring myself to hate it as well." Soshiro declared as he lifted himself to a higher sitting position.

"Especially after hearing something so sweet." He scooted himself more fully into Kafka's lap and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

Their lips touched and moved languidly against each other. No need to rush or to stop was felt when they started, and there wouldn't be for the rest of all their night together. Such was the case when two lovers fell into a wanting dance. Kafka softly sighed as his partner's hand tugged at the hairs of his nape and soothingly massaged the back of his neck. Soshiro beamed as he felt his soldier's sharp teeth and pointed canines pull teasingly at his lower lip, causing a breathy giggle. Hibino broke away from the dance first, deciding to slowly lavish a trail of wet kissed down the taut plains of Hoshina's neck. He tasted the sulfur of the water and the salt of the sweat as he savored the journey to the hard edges of his bath-mate's bare shoulder.

It was there that Kafka decided to stop his conquest and inhale his lover's scent once again. Breathing deep and slow, he made his mind expand and bask in all that he could feel, all he could sense. His arms unconsciously tightened around Soshiro's waist as a wisp of melancholy seeped into his heart. His nose nuzzling its way back up the path he made on the neck felt very much different from the moments they were making before. Hoshina dug deep into his will to separate their chests from each other so he could look his love in the eyes. He felt his smile carry a hint of the melancholy that had seemed to enter Kafka's heart as well as invaded the sanctity of his expressive face. A hand traveled from Kafka's broad chest to tease the corner of his lips into a happier expression.

"Your mind is very loud again. It's practically coming out of your eyes." Soshiro huffed quietly as he continued to watch the other's face shift through different shades of the same emotion.

"It's just... this... the world... something's been feeling off lately. Like this isn't going to last forever." Kafka's voice rumbled with the weight that he had been feeling on his shoulders.

"You're manifesting again." Soshiro called back, thinking a joke would help lighten the mood.

"It doesn't feel like that. More so like a... premonition. A gut feeling that's arrived and hasn't left." Kafka brought his face closer, rubbing his nose against Soshiro's and sought comfort and warmth in their closeness, "I keep waking up in the morning, thinking that it's going to be the last time I get to see you. It scares me."

"I would rather be stabbed through the heart before I let things stay that way between us." His lover affirmed solidly as he brought both of his hands to cage Kafka's face, "This isn't coming from what Miss Okonogi said earlier about my family, is it?"

"I wish its origins were that simple. I've had this feeling for a while now." Kafka's gaze softened even more as he basked in their continued embrace.

"If that feeling gets worse, I want you to remind yourself of one thing." Soshiro spoke softly, treating each word like a fragile feather.

"And what's that?" Kafka whispered back, a flicker of hope sparkling in the shape of his lips twitching into a smile.

"No matter what comes, no matter what happens, may it be something trivial, or the ending of the world, I will be yours." Soshiro placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Kafka's nose as he continued to promise, "And I will find you no matter where, no matter when, and tell you that, over and over again. In as many different ways as needed until you never feel like this again."

They continued to indulge in each other's comforting presence until their tired minds couldn't take being awake anymore. Even as Kafka felt his mind be overtaken with the inescapable need for sleep, his mind echoed his partner's sentiment over and over again. He knew those words were true, and knew better than to doubt a promise from his commander and lover, but it affected little to the growing fear that leeched onto the fibers of his emotions. One thing he said did seep in however. He knew, really and truly knew, that they would find each other. Again and again.

No matter what.

[mcmorare]

hello!! little psa that there are currently some bad thunderstorms in my area, so activity might be lower today and tomorrow!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[prismbattery]

playing bg3 completely blind is . insane . also im very bad at the game i keep getting my ass kicked. any tips. i am playing a sorcerer

[mashmouths]

@ god if you don't want me to kill myself turn my power back on i am NOT playing

[ilovedirt]

gosh dangit mother fuckers

[hearty-an0n]

i loveee the last day before winter break 🫶🫶 no one here gives a shit about anything

[tiddykittylikesskittles]

I hate being in between the rock and the hard place of a) sitting through work even when you feel like shit or b) asking for help and feeling like you're abandoning people/being a burden

[battywitch]

Being a human barometer is so fun 🤕🙃

[raeathnos]

.

[selfcarecap]

✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink

warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross 

This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)

Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first. 

What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.

But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this. 

He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.

Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.  

Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly. 

But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.

And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible. 

He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”

You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”

And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.

He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”. 

“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.

 “And you don’t touch yourself?”

You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.” 

Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?” 

“I don’t know, a few seconds.”

And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.

“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”

Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.” 

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” 

He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM. 

“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”. 

You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. 

You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.

He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his. 

You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches. 

He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead. 

He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are. 

He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length. 

He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed. 

He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does. 

It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you. 

-

You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection. 

He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside. 

It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers. 

“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making. 

“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips. 

“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin. 

“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that. 

-

It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably. 

He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all. 

But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out. 

You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”

He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.

 “I can be anything you like, bub.” 

You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.” 

He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you. 

It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.

Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile. 

“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants. 

“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.” 

You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun. 

“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve. 

“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?” 

“Not at all, don’t worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, bub.” 

You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket. 

“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.

You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.

“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him. 

But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.

He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.

“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.

And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.

“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.

He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?” 

You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.

He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.

-

Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day. 

Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.

He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.

You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.

“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.

Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.

“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.

“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”

He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”

And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”

He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.

And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”

“If you’re really sure?” 

You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”

And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”. 

You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”

“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”

You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”. 

Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?” 

You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason. 

You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.

And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.

“You wanna see?”

You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure. 

You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.

“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.

“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.

He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.

“Does it feel good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”

You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.

Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.

“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.

“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.

“Do you feel better?”

Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”

“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.

-

It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.

You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.

 “I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?” 

Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it. 

He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.

“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.

You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.

“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”

You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.

“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.

His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.

“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.

He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.

“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.

“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.

Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.

But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.

“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.

He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.

“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.

“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.

“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.

You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.

You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.

“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.

You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.

-

✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3

[gallavichsreddie1128]

FWB to Lovers w/ Logan

Description: How Y/N and Logan went from Fuck buddies to Lovers

Warning: Dirty talk

Ever since Y/N, Wade and Logan saved the timeline it has been a known thing that Logan and Y/N had tension and Wade always made it known: “UGH just fuck already Disney can just cut it out of the film.” “What?” 

Y/N tried to hide her feelings at first knowing that Logan probably wanted someone his age and not a younger woman with little to no experience. Boy was she wrong: “Wade’s right. We should fuck.” 

Though he said that drunk, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was sure he wouldn’t remember saying that but the never next day when she just stared at him a little too long she was up against the wall in a second: “We need to hurry before Wade gets back.” 

He was huge compared to her and the size kink was real. For his age he had a nice body and a dick that hit all her special spots: “Fuck. I didn’t even know that spot could be reached.”

He took her on everything in that house. The couch, the wall, the beds (even Wade’s), shower, counter and even on a chair. Wade found out and his reaction wasn’t even surprising: “You guys can’t just fuck on my bed and not let me watch.” 

Y/N was falling hard for the man and Wade could tell. Her stares were no longer just filled with lust but love. She looked at him like he was the whole world and more: “OMG is the Y/N falling in love?” “Shut up!”

Logan was too and that showed when he found out that Y/N and Wade had slept together before. Though Y/N and Logan weren’t together and only supposed to be FWB, He got extremely jealous: “YOU GUYS HAVE SLEPT TOGETHER?” “Duh. Have you seen us? Two hot people fucking is the norm.” 

Y/N and Wade both found it odd that he got mad about that given it was 2 years ago and before any of this. Logan stormed off to his room ignoring them calling his name. Wade looked at Y/N with a knowing look: “Seems like your pussy is a love potion and he had too much of it.” 

Though it wasn’t the best idea, Wade went to talk to him about it. Y/N almost wanted to do it herself but Wade offered and said that he wouldn’t crack jokes about the situation: “Listen peanut, I understand that you have a bad boy reputation to stick too but that hard on you’re showing says you enjoyed the thought of it.” “WADE GET OUT!” 

Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. Her mind was on Logan and how he just stormed out of the room after hearing that they fucked. Did he love her back? She needed to know. She walked to his door and knocked, not caring if he was asleep or not: “Do you love me?” “Y/N, It’s 3 am.” 

He did in fact love her and he should’ve shown it better. Wade always wanted to get under his skin and that’s probably why he mentioned that: “I said that to get you two together. It’s annoying to see you guys act like Blind AL trying to find something.” 

Ok Wade maybe a little too far?

Both of them were idiots for not just admitting how they felt but now it was worth it in the end and Wade was to thank: “I’m not thanking you with Tacos!” “Well aren’t you just ungrateful?”

[countlessimagines]

Your World [ Wolverine x Reader ]

Summary: your Wolverine was your whole world.

A/N: I like writing angsty stuff and this movie provided me with the best possible scenarios <3 hehehe I love wolverine

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of blood

Marvel MASTERLIST Link here

SPOILERS BELOW

-

It wasn’t an ideal love story that brought you back to Logan.

Being a mutant with incredible healing abilities and a broken heart made it so easy for Stryker to capture you. Your Wolverine had been the one to rescue you from the clutches of Stryker and the horrible fate that loomed over your head. All the days of experiments and cold rooms where you’d be injected with who knows what, it all lead to him.

But you always had to remind yourself that Logan had gotten you out, made you a X-Men, but found the brutal truth of how dangerous it was to be loved by you.

You loved deeply and endlessly, like a void waiting for eternity to be loved and to love. Logan was exactly what your heart desired for years.

Someone who could never die, never leave you.

Fighting alongside each other became a beautiful symphony. And God protect anyone who caused you harm, because Logan would only see red and slice them to pieces. It was a miracle none of the X-men had been torn to shreds, but Scott always came close.

The team would always joke about your relationship, saying how could an innocent soul be in love with such a brute like Wolverine.

But Logan knew the only way he could breathe was to be with you, to hold you, to kiss and love you.

He would always find his way to you no matter the circumstance.

Beast was holding you in the infirmary because he wanted to run tests? Logan was there.

Storm and Jean wanted to have a girls night? Logan was sitting outside the room in case anything happened.

Scott was training you in hand to hand combat? Logan was definitely there.

Your world consisted of him and him only.

And maybe that is why it hurt so much when he let your entire team die, because you had not made them your whole world.

You had been away on a mission by yourself when you received the news of their passing. You returned to a bloodied home, no sign of Wolverine to be found.

Life began to blur after what happened. You had to go into hiding, because people blamed you for what happened, too. And there was no one there to stop you from spiraling into a flurry of self hatred.

Hatred for what you had become. A love sick puppy so consumed with Logan only. Maybe if you had been there, maybe if you hadn’t put so much trust in him, maybe if you could have taken the hits for your team.

And the thought that stuck with you the most, if you had been there, screaming for help - would Logan had only saved you and left the rest to die?

Because the love you shared was slowly becoming so obvious to you that it was not pure or natural, but rather so simple it would have made you and Logan public enemy number one.

But you supposed that had already happened, too.

Your mutant abilities were the only thing you had left, so you consumed yourself in underground work. Becoming exactly what the X-men had fought against.

Shedding your uniform, you had to separate yourself from the X-men because people recognized you too easily. It was hard to find any work where people wanted a tainted mutant.

You tried your hardest to not let every moment be consumed by the thought of Logan. He had never reached out to you after the event, despite the grief between you so overwhelmingly strong. He couldn’t face you and love someone who would have stepped through hell and back for him.

He felt as if he didn’t deserve it.

So time continued to pass as the bond between the two of you was severed so deeply that it was suffocating to be apart.

But it wasn’t until Deadpool showed up to your apartment that you were finally addressing your past.

“Leave, now. I’m not hearing any of your bullshit.” You tried to close your door but he stopped it.

“Please, c’mon. I need you! Wolverine needs you!”

You tensed at the mere mention of him. “If he needed me so desperately, it is far too late for him to come back.”

“But you’re his one and only, for fuck’s sake! Every variant I’ve met of him has had a you stalking around like a lap dog. You know how many of you’s have beaten the shit out of me?” He rambled on, and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t care to understand what you’re saying, so goodbye, Wade!”

Deadpool sighed before kicking the door in and stabbing you through the chest with one of his blades. You stared at him in shock and couldn’t register anything as he flung you over his shoulder into an orange portal.

You landed on a hard ground that pushed the blade out of you. “Wade, you’re a dead man.”

He stepped through the portal and leaned over your body. “Sorry about that, but I can’t die so you’re stuck with not only me, but Wolverine!”

Deadpool giggled and ran off, making sure to rip the blade out of your stomach. You winced but felt your regeneration cells working to stitch you back together.

Slowly sitting up, you spat out blood.

“I tried to tell him not to bring you into this.”

You froze at the voice you fought to forget, willing calm into your fast beating heart.

Sitting up fully only made your legs wobble and your head spin. But you had to look up into the eyes of the man you still loved.

Logan looked different, healthier and happier. It only made you feel sick.

“I’ve been busy.” He said it so casually that it made you want to slap his chest for the lack of greeting. “Wade gave me a second chance. I helped save his world.”

“You haven’t seen me in years and you choose to brag?” You scoffed, removing your shirt to assess the damage Wade had done to your shirt.

Logan sucked in a breath as he took in your battle worn scars. Despite your healing factor, you still kept every scar from every wound you had endured.

He remembered the last time he saw you, you only adorned a few on your chest and stomach.

Now it was littered with them.

“You’ve been busy too, I gather?” Logan said with a hint of sarcasm.

You glared at him. “Why am I here?”

“Wade thought that I needed you.” He admitted it with such ease, like he knew it to be true in his heart.

“And? Do you need me?”

He hesitated before answering. “I’ve always needed you… and I think that’s why I let myself go for so many years. Because I knew that no matter what I did or said to you, you would never forgive me. I would always be the one who let our team die… let you go.”

“Well you’re right, because I never would forgive you. Not after abandoning all of us,” you choked out, the tears beginning to creep into the corners of your eyes. “I loved you fiercely, Logan. All it would have taken was one call during those first few days and I would have been there for you. We could’ve been healing together. But you chose this life of despair for both of us, Logan.”

“I know.” He said, his own eyes watering.

“I despise you.” You said, but your heart was breaking, letting out the true feelings. It was bleeding for him and for him only.

Logan stepped closer and you did not stop him.

“I want nothing to do with you.” You said, your voice cracking.

“I understand.” He said, five feet away from you now.

“I hate you.” You began to weep, the blood in your heart revealing what you wanted truly.

“I don’t blame you.” Logan closed the gap between the two of you, holding you close to his chest. You cried into his shoulder, holding on for dear life. “I’m never leaving you again.”

All you could muster was a small nod, your tears staining his shirt. His own were dripping onto the top of your head.

And in the empty apartment, you and Logan stood, holding onto each other.

Holding your world together.

[oflgtfol]

we are fucking UNDERWATER ‼️‼️‼️