#what could have been a beautiful friendship

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Careful, Bub | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Synopsis: I showed my friends, then we high-fived / Sorry if you feel objectified / Can't help myself, hormones are high / Give me more than just some butterflies

Warnings: Mutual Pining, Masturbation, Sexting, Nude Photos, Mentions of Sex Toy Use, Dom!Logan, Logan Talks You Through It, P R A I S E K I N K ! L O G A N, Choking of the Sexual Variety, Shoving, Claws Come Out,  Age Gap (Reader is in their late 20’s – Logan is 200 years old), Reader used to have confidence issues but worked through them,

Rating: M – No Minors

Word Count: 8.5k

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It’s fun to relate to the people that live in the same place as you, something about it deepens the connection. Whether it is a mutual bonding over music, entertainment, or even sports – it always makes you feel closer, comfortable. In this day and age, it can be almost lonely if you aren’t connected with others through your phone, making the world feel a bit glummer. Having that safe group is necessary to be one with the world, to feel like you’re going to be okay – like everything is going to pan out. You happened to luck out by living in the same building as some of the most heinous, and hilarious characters the world has ever set eyes on. You have the fortune of calling them your friends.

The group chat was originally Wade’s idea. His way of bringing you into the crew when you worked late, not missing a moment of meet ups you couldn’t make it to. It was a sweet gesture, but with how many others were in there – it overwhelmed you. Out of the twelve people who are constantly messaging the chat, you found safety within two of them. Negasonic and Yukio happened to be your solace when the chat was too loud. Yukio wasted no time in creating a Girls Only chat for you three, where nothing was held back. You three could express yourselves in every way possible, without the guys being weirdos – mainly Wade but still. It was great to have women friends around your own age, that was something you were not used to. 

Any inside joke about the guys or about events being organized was ran through your three separately, making small bets here and there on what Al would say, who Peter would try to have grab his chain, how many times Logan told Wade to fuck off. Logan, that made you tune in real quick. The possibilities were endless and made it eventful to say the least. But the one thing you loved the most about your friendship with Nega and Yukio is how open they are with you; Honest, encouraging, your own personal cheerleaders. When you initially met them, you were a shy little wallflower – getting by on just being a listener over a talker. Always the encourager, never getting encouragement. Shying away anytime someone was nice to you, never accepting it as truth. Yukio and Nega were the opposite of what you were, and everything you wanted to be.

Having a safe space with them meant you could send them anything and they’d listen, give advice, be the best friends you could’ve ever asked for. It was with them that you found your confidence, something you always struggled with. It was one photo you sent them of the dress you were wearing – both ladies telling you how beautiful and gorgeous you are, how hot you looked in it. That small little omission altered your brain chemistry. You hadn’t been called hot before, so it invigorated you to hear that. It was a long dive into the endless pool below, and you were ready for the journey down. Months and months of slowly getting out of your shell with them turned you into a little vixen, the compliments they gave you caused you to thrive. You always reciprocated for them as well, hyping them up through and through. It felt good to feel like you were worth it, like you weren’t just there. It changed the way you saw yourself, and you knew you’d never go back to how it was before.

Tonight was no different, after all you had just gotten back from hanging out with them. A trip downtown to the mall was a call for chaos when it was you three, Wade forcing Logan to stay home with him and reenact The Greatest Showman with Mary Puppins. It bummed you out for a bit, not being able to chill with Logan like you wanted, but when Wade called – no one told him no. It was a secret to everyone who wasn’t Yukio and Nega that you had a thing for Logan. Something about the older man burned right through you in the most sensual way possible, something deep and longing you never wanted to leave. Little glances you two would have together always caused the girls to giggle, teasing you about it later but, it was only a matter of time before the chord snapped, before you gave in. Still that fear sat at the back of your mind, the what if’s. What if he doesn’t want me? What if he doesn’t want anyone? What if? What if? What if?

As you sit on your plush rug right in front of your wall length mirror, you leaned against the side of your bed, humming as you thumbed through the earlier group chat messages. Behind you on your duvet sat the bag full of clothing you had gotten, trying to add more color into your wardrobe. Beneath it all sat a spicy little number you nabbed whole Yukio and Nega were changing, something that felt so right you needed to have it. It wasn’t a secret that you would buy yourself things like these every now and again but, this time around you felt empowered holding this little secret just for yourself, to surprise your friends with. They always said that color duo made you look fearless, powerful, gorgeous – and you’d be damned if you’d pass it up, especially on sale.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you contemplated getting up to take a shower or put on your new set, feeling yourself out, getting some prime photos then showering. The toss up between the two left you unable to choose, wondering if you could go hang out with Wade and Laura instead, maybe even sneak your way into Logan’s room. The thought made your body shiver, needing to close your eyes for a moment to brace yourself. Taking a deep breath in, you let your mind wander, your hand grabbing the bag off your bed instinctively. It was a given deep down you wanted to prance around your room in the set, spicing up your night. Something about wearing it underneath your clothes while hanging out with everyone felt taboo, downright sinful – but you craved it.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, you gently grabbed each piece of lingerie out of the bag, the rustling of tissue paper filling the air as your music droned low in the background. The bra was placed carefully against the bed first, followed by the lacy things and garter set; Your eyes quivered with arousal as you saw it, knowing how it was going to make you feel. There was no wasted effort in stripping completely naked, tossing your day clothes into the laundry basket. The slight cool breeze coming from your central air, mixing with the intoxicating smell of the candles lit around you made your eyes darken, your nipples pebbling against the air. You understood why you were excited and giddy to be putting it in, but in the back of your mind you also felt nervous. It was confusing you.

Pushing it out of your head, you ignored the nagging in the back of your mind, solely focusing on the task at hand. Sliding the soft lace of the thong up your thighs, you reveled in how it felt – how it glided against your skin so softly, like it was a lover. How supportive it felt cupping your front whilst holding your behind helped to quell some of the nerves lying low in your belly. Snapping the elastic band against your hip, you giggled as you grabbed the bra. Even though it was lacy and covered almost nothing, it had good support for your breasts, holding them perfectly to show the most amount of cleavage, but also leaving some to the imagination. In between the small bits of detailing, you could see the color of your nipple, which caused your smirk to grow. Biting your bottom lip, you smoothed your hands over the apex of your breasts, watching as the flesh spilled over slightly.

All that was left was your garter belt, sitting across the middle of your stomach and hooking onto your stockings. You worked quickly to pull them up as you let the music take over you, swaying to the beat so it was less intimidating. As the final strap was hooked to the top of your stockings, you let out a shaky sigh, silently prepping yourself for what you would see once you turned around. Keeping your eyes closed you spun around slowly, letting the anticipation eat away at you until you couldn’t take anymore. Usually you were so confident when it came to trying these pieces on, not giving a second worry to them – this time around you were nervous, as if this particular color scheme made you scared. You couldn’t let that hold you back, not after how far you have come, it wasn’t worth it.

Slowly you opened your eyes as you faced the mirror, the blue tint of the strip lighting giving a whimsy glow to your room. The focal point of your vision started to become clear as you looked at your face, makeup still immaculate and beautiful from earlier. But as your eyes panned down to your body, you felt a fresh wave of goosebumps flood your skin, a shaky moan leaving your lips. The yellow of the bra and thong complimented your figure wonderfully, amplifying the gorgeous glow of your skin. But truly it was the navy blue of your stockings and belt that made your body quiver; The royal deep color punctuating your sensuality with how you stood. You couldn’t believe this was you, in all your baren glory – a fucking goddess amongst men, you could send one to the hospital just with this set. You couldn’t keep your smile back any longer as you stared at yourself, admiring your body and its shape against the lingerie. All the worries, all the small doubts instantly fell away, your confidence skyrocketing.

You knew for a fact Yukio and Nega would hype you up, thinking this was totally you¸ and probably ask if you got it today. But those could wait, you needed to take photos – you needed to see what you looked like on screen. The giddy nature of what you were doing sent shivers through your body, the thought of what positions would look best making you grow excited. You decided that your go-to for new outfits would fit perfectly in this scenario. Who knows, you could save this photo for a rainy day when you wanted to tease someone. You grabbed your phone off of the bed as you dropped to your knees, the plush shag material of your lilac rug feeling lovely against your legs.

Parting your thighs, you left a good gap between both as you sunk yourself down. One hand came to press against the floor directly in front of your clothed core, tossing your hair over to the opposite side. As you held your phone in position with your free hand, you noticed how your arm was pushing your breasts together deliciously, deepening the cleavage, sending your eyes a shade darker. Pouting your lip as cutely as you do, you snapped a few quick photos, getting every great angle you could as you changed your hair direction. A blur of photos filled your camera roll as you felt yourself, “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter coming across your playlist at the best time.

As you laughed to yourself, you finally stopped taking photos, sitting with your back against the bed and crossing your legs. Each photo you took was a masterpiece, amplifying your beauty by tenfold. But out of each one, it was the very first one that felt real, authentic to you. The others you were playing sexy up, trying to get the best fuck me look going, but it felt too artificial for your taste. It was the first one, the one where your eyes were dilated, where your nipples perked beneath the fabric, where your thighs trembled that made you feel like a God. It was a no brainer that this is what Yukio and Nega were getting, there was no way around it now. Clicking the share icon in your camera roll, you clicked on the first green bubble, eyes blurred from how excited you were about this risky photo. I’d be a lot tougher with claws.

You sent off the cheeky message without a second more thought to it, locking your phone instantly. As you tossed the device on your bed, you put on the silk bathrobe hanging off of the corner of your mirror, wrapping yourself up quickly. All that thirst-trapping made you thirsty, the dry mouth you were getting was too much for you. As you opened your bedroom, making it around to your kitchen of your apartment, you opened your fridge up quickly to grab a water bottle. The cold plastic in your hand brought you back to Earth, your body coming back into itself as your reality started to slip back in. The cap was popped off easily by you, finding its way across the quartz top. Bringing the bottle to your lips, you let them wrap around the opening, gulping down the cold liquid. It felt nice with how hot you felt, bringing your internal temperature back down as your mind cleared.

Ding. The tone of your phone going off made you stop drinking, catching your breath as you swallowed down the water. So lost in bringing yourself back to the present time, you forgot you had messaged the chat. You screwed the lid back onto the bottle as you set it on the countertop, promising to come back to it. As you made your way elegantly back to your room, that pull of nausea and nerves made you stop. Your stomach churned as you stood in the doorway, the threshold keeping you upright. That same feeling from earlier was back as you put on the lingerie, not knowing why you felt so nervous and scared all of a sudden. It made you confused, weary as to what your body was trying to tell you. It’s just Yukio and Nega, why are you being so flighty? Groaning to yourself, you rolled your eyes as you made your way back to your bed.

Plopping down onto the duvet, you sprawled out on your stomach as you grabbed your phone, using your face ID to unlock it. Yes you would. Colors look good on you. You cocked a brow at the message, reading the lines over and over again. It didn’t sound like Nega or Yukio to be so short-worded. Usually, they would send a plethora of emojis before screaming in all caps. But that was just the thing, your last message open wasn’t to the group chat, but one individual instead. It all made sense now, why you felt so scared and nervous. Your eyes went wide as you read the contact’s name, not seeing your groupchat. No, instead it read Logan. It wasn’t the groupchat that received the photo, it was him.

You screamed as you threw your phone across the floor, palms shaking as you sat up silently. The noise in your brain was too loud to focus, the intake of your breath and blood pulsing through your ears made everything too much. Anxiety was sitting in the back of your throat, threatening to spill your stomach out. You scrambled across the floor on your hands and knees to grab your phone, still unlocked from a few moments ago. Shaky fingers worked to unsend the photo, blessing the tech gods for that feature. You were too anxious to type, opting for speech to text instead. “I’m so sorry about that! I meant to send that to Nega and Yukio.” Seeing the wording typed out didn’t feel right, as weird as that sounded. Admitting it felt like a sin, more so than sending a sexy photo to The Wolverine. After all, wasn’t this your endgame anyways? It’s not like you haven’t deep infatuated with him since he became Wade’s friend, since you started hanging around him a lot more. Wasn’t it you who stated that by the end of the year, you’d kiss him? Wasn’t it you who said you would fight tooth and nail to make him yours?

Being sucked into your mind by your thoughts caused you to delay in sending your message, instead removing the text with your finger to completely disappear. Ding. Right as you were thinking of your response, you saw another message come through from Logan, one you didn’t anticipate. Put it back. Now. There was no way he said that, right? Oh, but there was. As your eyes shook from excitement, nervousness, and fear you could make out the small letters of Logan’s message, feeling his desire through the text. He wasn’t a big texter, he even said that himself – but to see him say more than two words was insane to you, even now when he was clearly enamored with you. There was no right or wrong way to reply, but no words you could think of held a light to the dominance Logan is showing.

Incoming FaceTime Call: Logan. The red and green buttons at the bottom made you stir, wondering if it would be a good idea to answer. This was one of his favorite ways to communicate, to see how things were going and what you were up to. Granted they never lasted more than two minutes because Wade would always hijack it but still – the little slivers of time you got with Logan was special. This time around though? It felt wired, like if you answered you’d get the shock of a lifetime. But what was life without a little self-indulgence? Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you fixed a few strands of your hair, pulling your robe a bit tighter around your chest as you sat back against the bed, letting your butt hit the floor as you got comfortable. Dragging your thumb along the green answer button, you positioned your phone a few inches away from your face, enough to get your collarbone up in the shot. A slow, pregnant pause caused by your phone’s connection delayed seeing Logan. But once it came to be, you were taken aback.

The dark of the early night was cresting behind his head, the sun starting to descend into the horizon. His eyes glittered against the holiday lights, causing your heart to swell. Once he looked back down at the camera, he couldn’t help himself but by staring at you, a small smile threatening to take over his lips. “Hey,” he let out with an airy breath, the slight chill of the night causing it to puff out. You felt yourself suck in a breath, the energy already charged. Reflecting his own smile, you sent your own through your phone as you waved. “Hi.” Usually you were a lot more talkative, teasing him to make him smile but – none of that felt right in this moment. Even with seeing his face on your screen, you could tell he was hiding something – not really saying what he wanted to. His eyes were black against the horizon behind him, no sight of hazel coming through.

“How’re you?” You managed to let out, your voice lower than usual as you let your legs stretch out, leaning further back against the side of the bed. Logan didn’t miss a second of your movements as he walked down the street, the light bustling of cars filling the sound barrier. From the buildings behind him, you could see he was downtown, more than likely heading to the bar for a quick drink. You silently wished he asked to meet you there, to hang out privately for once. But that playful glint in his pupils told a different story as he rounded the corner, staring down at you. “Did Wade tell you about my suit?”

Logan asked with a slight smirk, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he watched for your reaction. Cocking a brow in his direction you tried to understand what he was asking, not sure what suit he meant. You knew that Logan was The Wolverine, it was no secret. But you never saw his suit, only meeting him a week after he jumped into your timeline. Shaking your head at his question, you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, gnawing on the skin to help combat the butterflies in your stomach. The swishing of your hair from side-to-side aiding in cooling you down. “Then what made you choose yellow and blue?” His smirk never let off as he asked, prying. He wanted to fully talk about the photo, he wanted to see if it was truly accidental or planned. Your mouth went dry when he asked, not having a concrete answer for why you chose that color scheme. Shrugging you tightly laughed, releasing your lip as you focused on your mirror. “I thought it was a pretty combination.”

Pretty, by association it was like you were calling Logan pretty. Even if you didn’t know about his original suit, still he associated himself with those colors. Logan mirrored how you were before, pulling his own bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckled. Struggling for a moment, Logan managed to flip his camera around to pan at his legs – the clean yellow and blue pants is all he had to remember his original suit. It caused your heartrate to pick up again, hammering in your chest as you got a brief glimpse at his clothed crotch. It took every fiber of your being to contain yourself, to hide the whimper clawing up the back of your throat. Lost in thought of what he could be hiding under there you didn’t notice how the screen flashed a few times – a text bubble popping up you couldn’t focus on. Logan took screenshots of your reaction.

The camera flipped back to Logan’s face, the heat cresting its way up your neck as you stared at him, your own pupils blown out.  “Do you still think so?” He teased, dropping his voice down a few octaves. You could tell he was wearing his headphones to talk, making it more intimate for him to hear than everyone else. It sent your body up in flames at how you could say anything, and it would be only for Logan. “More than ever before.” It was a no-brained response, you didn’t have to think in order to speak. Your mind was already as alert as it was going to be, the filter around Logan you had previously no longer existed on this call. Logan stopped his walking to stare down at you, narrowing his eyes with a genuine smile as he licked his lips, nodding to himself.

Logan jutted his chin out towards the camera as he started to walk up another well-lit street, never taking his eyes off the camera. “You wanna show me what my colors are hiding under there?” He nodded towards your bathrobe, a sliver of the bra showing against the fur collar. There was one of two ways this could’ve gone, either play into it or shy away. This was clearly an attempt from Logan to see how far you’d want to go with him, really a test for if this was accidental. Mutual pining after one another for so long burnt you both out, so if it kept going there would be no tell when it would stop. The power was now in your hands, there wasn’t much else you could play with. Putting on your best innocent eyes, you let the pretty little smile fall to your mouth, puffing your lower lip out slightly. “Dunno – you sure you can handle it?” Game on.

The sassy tone you let on with your question had Logan’s pants tightening, his breath coming out in sharp bursts as he tried to control himself. Having animalistic tendencies meant that anytime he was aroused, he needed to stake his claim. Show the world who you belong to, who his mate was. Even if you didn’t know, he did. He could smell it on you any time you went past him, or when you looked at him. In another life, in another world you were his – and he planned to make you his on Earth-10005 as well. Huffing out a disbelieving laugh, Logan snorted as he stopped in his tracks, pressing his back against the brick wall of one of the local pubs. “I can handle you, missy.” Logan hissed, letting his eyes go naturally wide to signify how serious he was. The low growl seeping up from his throat made your body shiver, made your fingers work slowly to undo the ties on your bathrobe. “Don’t get it twisted.”

You couldn’t help but snort to yourself as you heard Logan say that, never expecting the 200-year-old man to say something so modern. Laughing lowly as you stripped out of the bathrobe, you let a sliver of your chest show, how your robe fell off of your shoulder. Logan’s eyes narrowed in to watch you take it off, the silk falling behind you. All that he could see was the plush skin of your breasts hanging slightly over the cups, nothing more. A weak moan slipped past his parted lips as he watched, needing to shut his eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t cum in his pants. You knew you had Logan right where you wanted him, letting you take the control back of the situation. It made you feel powerful knowing he was so weak for you, even if it was for a short period of time. “Ew, Wade needs to stop teaching you catchphrases of the early 2010’s.” You weren’t a tease all the time, you could see Logan’s labored breathing through the call, could tell he needed a distraction.

Your remark was enough to make Logan open his eyes again, staring at you with a predatory glint in his eyes; The whites almost impossible to see. “Why are you changing the subject?” He panted, standing upright again as he pressed his covered back to the wall, cocking a brow in your direction. You weren’t prepared for Logan’s retort, thinking you may have the upper hand while he was aroused, yet he always managed to surprise you. Sucking your teeth, you shook your head in confusion, rolling your eyes away from his gaze. “Aw, is someone flustered?” He pouted, smiling with a hint of smugness. Your mouth falling open in a silent gasp made him chuckle, finding it quite adorable how you’re trying so hard. The burning across your face was a clear indication to you that Logan was getting under your skin, trying his hardest to truly break you. It wasn’t in a callous or mean way, but more to show you who you belonged to. Putting the phone closer to his face so you could see only him, he made sure he was loud and clear. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be nice and gentle.”

“Fuck off, Howlett.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, exposing your cleavage to the camera without realizing it, your cool slipping through your fingers. The dead giveaway of how he was affecting you came in the form of your camera shaking, your fingers betraying you as you tried to suck in a deep breath. Looking away from the camera didn’t help when Logan stared like he was going to eat you alive, devouring you with every glint his eyes gave. You had to admit it to yourself, your confidence reserve was running out, completely going dry the longer you sat and talked with Logan. If he didn’t act now, he was forever going to hold his peace. “I’d rather fuck you.” It flowed off his tongue so elegantly, never deterring his steps as he managed to walk again. At first you thought you may have misheard him but, you heard him loud and clear, perfect in fact.

The shock written across your face, mixed with desire caused Logan’s restraint to snap. He moved away from the bars entrance and instead kept straight, letting the cold November air nip at him a bit longer. For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Mouth hanging open, brow creased with a mix of shock and anxiety, you were going through it within seconds, all because of dear Logan. The confidence, the bravado, the je ne sais quoi you have held on the up and up finally slipping. Revealing itself when the shy version of yourself you thought you buried. The submissive angel, Logan had you wrapped tightly around his hand, reminiscent of his old cage fighting wraps. “Eye-fucking can only get you so far, princess.” Logan knew you wouldn’t pull away now, you were putty in his hands. But he could have a little fun with you, and boy did he plan to. It was a sure thought that you weren’t as obvious as you may have thought when staring at Logan, silently begging him to fuck you. The whole time, he knew.

“You’ve known?” It was a silly question to ask but Logan wasn’t stupid. He’s been around for more than 200 years, he could see through stuff as it came through. He is also very well known for retorting back no but I do now, pretending to know a secret as a way to coax you into telling him. You had to make sure this wasn’t like that – or else you’d implode. Logan nodded at you as the lights started to dim around him, a gentle glow from afar lighting the edges of his face. He was still outside but away from the light pollution, an alleyway most likely. Propping his phone up on the closest discarded shelf near a door, he nodded as he pulled out his flask. “No shit I’ve known, you can thank Yukio for that one.” Yukio, your friend. There was no malicious feelings towards her for telling Logan, in fact she may have done you a favor. But it got you thinking, who else did she tell? Was it one giant secret that the whole group knew, hence why they tried to push you both together constantly? “She tells Wade everything.”

And there it was, the shot heard ‘round the world. It made sense that she told Wade, and Wade blabbed to Logan – Yukio would never face the conflict head-on, it went through a source. Releasing the breath you were unaware you were holding, you nodded into the open air as you sunk further against the bed, a bead of sweat gathering on your hairline. The back of your throat felt tight, dry, highly uncomfortable for your own liking. Trying to swallow was like trying to fit a watermelon into a wine bottle, impossible due to how high your blood pressure was. Now that the light pollution of the city wasn’t creating streaks of orange across his screen, he could fully take in your shocked state – seeing the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. “What? You didn’t think I’d feel the same way?” Logan asked honestly, no longer keeping up the teasing. Seeing the distress on your face caused him to pull back, wanting you to tell him when it was good. He wasn’t going to push further; He didn’t want to ruin this.

The chord of your neck worked to string your words together, trying to find the best match to speak. Nothing felt, nor sounded right on your tongue; It drove you mad. “No, but I thought it was a fantasy more than anything.” You squeaked, coughing to bring some moisture back to your throat. Adjusting yourself on the floor, you brought the camera down a bit, pulling it further back for comfort – a typical position for you. Logan noticed though, how he could see you bright and clear as day, in your pale-yellow bra, that you had just for him. The slightly darker color of your nipple crept through the fabric, causing his pants to tighten, but he wouldn’t tease you further unless you felt better. “Can’t fantasies come true?” It was Logan’s last-ditch effort to ease the anxiety rising in your stomach. It helped, hearing him say that. It didn’t feel awkward anymore, it didn’t feel scary. It was beautiful, the start of something more.

“Are you sitting on the floor?” You pulled your camera back to pan it around yourself, showing off your little number as you sat, pulling your legs into a criss-crossed position. “Yeah, I got spooked off my bed thank you very much!” You stated with a smirk, showing how you were teasing. Logan liked how you said it, acting all sassy as you puffed out your bottom lip. It was cute, you looked precious to him. Everything about you made Logan feel alive, like his life was worth living instead of drowning it with the bottle. You made him want to be a better man, to settle down, start a family – anything you wanted he would give you even if you asked. That, is how much he loved you. “Flip your camera around.” He motioned, twirling his finger as he drank from his flask, groaning at the taste.

Obeying his command, you flipped your camera around as you showed him the mirror right in front of you. Waving cutely through it to him, you fluttered your legs as you sat, anticipation eating its way through you. Seeing the softness of your belly against your thong sent his mind spiraling, his eyes flickering to the fabric down further, hoping to God he could see your arousal. For a moment he took you in, how shy you were getting under his gaze. Hell, he could see the goosebumps forming themselves on your thighs, wanting to sink his teeth into the plushness of your flesh. Nudging his head towards you, his next command was on the tip of his tongue. “Spread your legs, c’mon.” The way it rolled out of his mouth like warm honey had your eyes wavering, threatening to roll back.

Slowly you began by uncrossing your legs, sticking your feet up absentmindedly towards the mirror, making sure to wiggle your toes under the stockings. It was a good tactic for teasing; Logan was living for your control. As your clothed claves hit the rug, you started to swing your legs open, letting each inch of the fabric rub against your soft legs. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, which didn’t go unnoticed by Logan, reveling in how responsive you are. “That’s it, good girl.” The fated words that made you lose yourself every time, fell out of Logan’s mouth so naturally. As he spoke that blissful name to you, finally your legs were fully open, able to see every little bit of you. It felt good, right to have his eyes on you. He wasn’t someone who could hide his emotions well nowadays, utterly losing it the longer he stayed with Wade. But in this moment you saw the true reserve on his face, the realization that even though he’s in some back bar’s alleyway, anyone could see him. The arousal coating his face, how his eyes focused harder to make out that tiny banana-yellow stain of your wetness on your panties, he was so lost in this moment. “Lean back, get comfortable. Eyes on me.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded as you leaned back fully against the side of your bed. Reaching to your left, you grabbed at the tripod Nega got you for your birthday this year, shortening the neck of it to sit perfectly to your side. Shaky hands did not make for stable camera work. Something in the back of your mind said this would be the best thing for him; No shaky cam as he directed you, all hands free just for him, it was the perfect pick. Pushing your phone quickly into the top slot of the tripod, you placed your hands on the inside of your thighs, tickling the soft flesh as you awaited Logan’s next words. Beneath the lace, he could see your perky nipples pebbling at the mere instructions he was giving you – silently berating himself for not going over to your apartment and showing you why they call him an animal.

“You’re such a good listener. Don’t think, just do.” You weren’t even trying at this rate, you naturally fell into the submissive role so easily. A commanding personality like Logan always made you fold, obeying each word like it was spoken from God. It’s the reason it made you so special in the bedroom; It’s the reason Logan became obsessed with you. Seeing your submissive side slip through the cracks every now and again made him yearn, a man starved. He could have anyone and all he needed was you. “Listening so well for me.” It was what you could do well in this moment, even with the steady flow of blood pumping through your ears. The whooshing and thumping making it difficult to hear anything other than Logan; The current making room like Moses parted the Red Sea, only he shall walk on through. “Show me, sweetheart.” You felt like you were burning up, from the inside out. Cooking hotter by the words Logan was saying, not able to keep your cool anymore. The husk of his voice, mixed with the lucidness of the alcohol slipping around his tongue made you see stars. If it was possible, you’d cum just from his voice.

Antsy was a perfect descriptor of how you were feeling at the moment, suspense eating right through your chest as the insinuation in Logan’s voice. “Show you what, Lo?” Ah, yes. Your last semblance of control before Logan completely shit-stomped it. An irritated groan fell between Logan’s mouth as he slammed his hands against the wall, the shelving where you were propped up on shaking. His head dangled between his shoulders as he breathed heavily. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.” That was the final straw, the endless teasing towards one another had finally broken. There would never be a way to go back from this, and you fucking thanked whatever or whoever was listening. Check fucking mate, Logan Howlett. That was all you needed to push forward.

You pulled at the side of your panties, swinging it onto the other side of your cunt as you opened your thighs up a bit more. The delicious stretch was aiding in the opening of your folds, letting the crisp air of your room lap through them. Logan drew his head up as he heard your silence, a painful growl slipping through his lips as he drew his brow together in pain. Nothing in this world could’ve prepared him for the sight he sees in front of him, the picture perfect gorgeousness, the thing he wanted tattooed on his brain. It was the purest form of Logan you could’ve possibly gotten; Veins of his neck bulging, eyes slanted so close to being closed, labored breathing like he ran a marathon. This was The Wolverine.

The sight on your phone made a fresh wave of your slick run out of your cunt, seeping onto the thin fabric between your cheeks. Using your first and forefinger to part yourself, you made sure to keeps your eyes on the mirror, eyeing the camera as you rubbed your pearly nub. The bead erect with arousal, begging to be touched. A simple flick of your finger across it had your entire lower half jolting. The sensation almost too much for your sensitive clit. Chewing on your bottom lip to help calm you down, slowly you began to make tentative circles with your first and middle finger, getting used to the sensation as your other hand slipped right under your bed to your secret box, one that no one would suspect.

Logan didn’t miss how you rubbed yourself so tenderly, loving yourself in the greatest way possible, while watching the perverse side of him come alive. He felt so naughty watching you masturbate, listening to his directions in the fucking alleyway. If he ran fast enough, he could be at your apartment before you made yourself orgasm, able to eat you out until you were crying for him to stop. No, this’ll do. He also didn’t miss how you reached frantically under your bed, eyes still on him as you grabbed a velvet bag. The purple glistened against the LED strips lights in your room, the multichrome coloring reflecting rainbows against your fingers. Quickly you worked the bag open, trying to grab at the first toy you could reach. Of course, it was not only the biggest dildo you had, but also happened to be yellow and blue. When Logan saw that, girth and all, he was roiling.

With how wet you were, you didn’t need lube to push your toy into you. Needy didn’t even touch upon how you felt. “Easy there baby, inch at a time. Ease it in, that’s it.” Logan cooed as you struggled to stretch around your toy, the burn already aiding in your arousal. Nodding at Logan’s words, you slowly inched the toy within your tight hole, never letting up on your clit to aid in the stretch. “L-Lo,” you moaned out quickly, eyes rolling back as your head lulled. If Logan was anything like this toy, you’d be unable to walk in the morning, you were hoping for that. “What, sweetheart? Feel too good?” Logan mewled as he gripped his tented cock through his pants, reveling in the harshness at which he was grabbing it. The bark he let out made your body shake, the thickest part of your dildo fully sheathed inside of you. “You deserve to feel this good honey, you’re the best girl.”

The praise was too much as you reached the base of the toy, your lower belly feeling so full of it. Carefully you pulled back on the toy, letting half of it out before you pushed it back in. The rigidness of the silicone rubbing against your spongy spot made you gasp, a throaty moan slipping into the night’s air, echoing throughout Logan’s headphones. “That’s my girl, nice and steady baby.” Logan had no idea what he was even saying anymore, or where he was going. All he knew was that his mouth was going and his feet were moving. Where they’d end up? He’d find out sooner or later. Palming himself as he steadily walked, Logan cut down the corner of the alley, making his way left. “Stretch that cunt out for me honey. I’ll fill you real soon.” Looking down at his screen all he could see was your blissed out face, the hearty stretch of your pussy around your toy, and the absolutely hot sight of your glistening body in his colors. “Just keep going, focus on my voice.”

Nodding at his words, you started to move the toy faster inside of you. The grip you had on the base helped it to conform to your cunt, filling in every ridge. Words escaped you in this moment, all you could do was focus on Logan’s face on your phone, watching how he never looked up at he walked, eyeing you like you were the World Series. Cresting behind your eyes was your orgasm, threatening to take you out with one swipe of your fingers. You couldn’t finish so soon, you wanted Logan to see exactly how it was for you. But there was no use, your arousal was so high, you were going to cum one way or another. The small squeak you let out caused Logan to stop in his tracks, glaring down at the phone will his full, undivided attention. “Look at the mirror baby, watch how sexy you are when you cum.” The breathy moan to which he released those words caused you to unleash the deepest groan you could muster, eyes blown out to nothing as you looked in the mirror.

Just like that, like the snap of your fingers, that string tethering you and Logan together snapped. Everything went white. Your ears rang as your throat became raw – yet no sound broke through. The sweetest coaxing could be heard miles away but yet it faded quickly. The world wasn’t spinning or moving for that matter. Instead, it was just staying still, letting you soak in this orgasmic bliss. Slowly the fog began to clear for you, your vision turning solid again as you watched the mirror. Heavy panting made up the sound coming back. The shaking of your body slowing down the longer you twirled the toy inside of you, rubbing your fingers deftly across your clit. Little by little, the blissful nature of your orgasm satiating that deep hunger looming in your chest. “That’s my good girl, making me so proud.” Logan’s tender voice cut through the staticky sound as your breathing steadiest itself. Licking your lips as you let your eyes wander around your room, you noticed that your tripod was a lot taller than you initially realized, almost looming over you as your fingers never stopped. Only that wasn’t your tripod, and that voice you heard was coming from directly beside you.

“Hi, princess,” Logan smirked into the mirror, meeting your gaze as you realized what was happening. It took a moment for it to register, wondering why he looked so much bigger now. Watching the figure of Logan reach between your legs in the mirror, it only clicked to you when you felt his grip close around the base of the dildo, pulling it out of you with cautionary ease. Shivering from the loss of girth within you, you snapped your head to the right as Logan caught your eyes. Smirking, he waved the wet dildo at you, chuckling as he threw it onto the bed. “H-Hey Logan,” you managed to let out, gulping down the pool of saliva in your bed. Nudging his chin behind you, Logan ran his calloused fingers over your chin, gripping your skin firmly. “Get on the bed.” It wasn’t an ask, it wasn’t a question. It was an order.

“Logan-“ you began, but were stopped when Logan grabbed at your throat, pushing against your pulse point with two fingers. The new sensation made your core clench around nothing, pulsating openly as you looked into Logan’s obsidian eyes, trying to make out what was going to happen. “Now.” Logan ordered, grabbing you by the neck and waist as he helped you up. Standing on wobbly knees was not a good idea, but damn it if it didn’t feel good. It took a moment to acclimate back into your body, Logan’s bodyweight kept you upright as you struggled. “Don’t make me tell you again, you won’t like that.” The threat made you want to break it, break him. Playing a brat for him would be a fun adventure, but the desperate nature of your arousal made you reconsider. Yet you were naturally doing it, and Logan was going to love punishing you later. “Very good girl.” Logan praised as you slowly sat back onto the bed, letting the silky material of the duvet caress your body.

How did he get in here? That was a question crossing your mind, nothing else but how. He wasn’t there all the time and you knew it, remembering that you were FaceTiming him. Narrowing your eyes in the direction of the bedroom door, you thankfully had a clear view to your front door, seeing that it was shut but – not quite perfect anymore. A smirk laid across your lips as you noticed the claw marks on the door, specifically around the doorknob, you assumed on both sides. Plus, the small splinter on top of his hand that he is currently picking out was enough tell for you. Logan had used his claws to unlock your door and get into your apartment. He was never going to the bar, this entire time he was walking to your apartment. It made sense now. This whole time he was coming to make you his. The revelation caused you to whimper out of pure love, no longer lust. Of course though, that didn’t last long. For what you saw next, shook you to your core.

Standing in between your legs was Logan fucking Howlett. The Wolverine. No longer did he wear his TVA jacket he was given earlier this year, but instead stood shirtless over you. The sweat on his body caused his chiseled physique to glisten in your room, his natural musk making your hornier by the second. His pants you had seen earlier of the same color scheme you are wearing, brushing wonderfully against your baren thighs. The reinforced nylon feeling like silk across your skin. Panning your eyes up to his hands, slowly Logan started to release his claws, inch by inch. A pained expression crossed across his mouth at the extension, but he fucking loved it. Why can I only see half of his face? As your eyes made their way upwards, no longer could you see his darkened eyes, instead replaced with something that shouldn’t have been considered hot. Across his eyes, around the top of his head was The Wolverine cowl, complete with, as Wade called them, blowjob handles. The animal himself, standing right between your legs.

You sunk back slowly on your elbows, stretching your legs open wider to fit all of him. Biting your lip, you looked up at Logan between your lashes, panting like a bitch in heat as you take him all in. “You want to see the real power yellow and blue really holds?” He growled, lightly tracing the dull edge of his claws against your sides. Yes, you do. Needless to say, this was the start of you wearing his colors, especially if this would happen every time.

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones

[millersgirl80]

Summer Spark (🔞 18+)

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x reader

Words: 1.2K its short 🫣

Rating: 18+

Summary: request—you and Sarah are bestfriends, and you’re staying at her house for summer break from college, and reader and Joel end up sleeping with each other

Warnings: Smut 18+

You had always looked forward to spending summer breaks at your best friend Sarah's house. It was a tradition you cherished, a time to escape the mundane college life and immerse yourself in the comfort of childhood friendship. But this year, as you stepped into their cozy home, you had a sneaking suspicion that this summer would be different.

"Hey, you're here!" Sarah's voice echoed through the house, followed by her bubbly laughter. She rushed to greet you, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. You hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"You look amazing," she complimented, taking a step back to admire your summer dress, a light fabric that accentuated your curves. "And I see you went shopping! I like it!"

Flustered by her praise, you felt your cheeks warm. "It's all thanks to you, Sarah. You always bring out the best in me."

As you caught up on each other's lives, you couldn't help but notice the tall, broad-shouldered figure of her father, Joel, in the background. He was in his late forties, with a ruggedly handsome face and a captivating presence. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes holding a hint of mischief.

"You must be Sarah's friend," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm Joel, her father. It's a pleasure to finally meet the young lady who's kept my daughter company over the years."

You felt your face heat up again, this time for a different reason. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Joel. I've heard so much about you from Sarah."

The next few days were a blur of laughter, long conversations, and shared memories. You and Sarah stayed up late, giggling like schoolgirls, while Joel often joined in, his presence adding a certain charm to your girl time. You found yourself stealing glances at him, noticing the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and the way his strong hands moved gracefully as he gestured while telling stories.

One afternoon, as Sarah had stepped out to run some errands, you found yourself alone with Joel in the spacious living room. The house was quiet, and the warm summer air seemed to heighten your senses.

"So, how's college life treating you?" Joel asked, his voice low and soothing. He sat beside you on the sofa, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"It's good, but I always look forward to these summer breaks," you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Being here with Sarah... and you, it feels like coming home."

Joel's eyes darkened at your words, and he leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. "I'm glad you feel that way."

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of warmth between your thighs.

Before you could process what was happening, his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your soft skin. "You're so beautiful, so full of life. I can't help but admire you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you found yourself leaning into his touch. "Joel..." you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating—a mix of coffee and something uniquely him. His tongue danced with yours, exploring, demanding, and you responded eagerly, your hands clutching at his shirt.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed wet kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your body, mapping your curves. "You have no idea how hard it's been to resist you."

You gasped as his fingers deftly unbuttoned your dress, revealing your lace bra and the swell of your breasts. "Joel, we can't... Sarah..."

"Shh..." He silenced you with another kiss, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumb teasing your nipple through the lace. "Let's not think about anything else right now. Just you and me."

His skilled fingers unhooked your bra, and your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. He worshipped them, squeezing and kneading, his thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. Moans escaped your lips, filling the room with a symphony of desire.

"You're so responsive," he growled, his breath hot on your skin. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He lifted you onto his lap, positioning your legs on either side of his muscular thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against your core, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his length.

You cried out as he filled you, inch by delicious inch. His thick cock stretched you, eliciting sensations you'd never experienced before. You began to move, riding him with a rhythm that built from slow and sensual to frenzied and wild.

"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your ass, urging you on. "Ride me, baby, ride my cock."

His words spurred you on, and you bounced on his lap, your breasts bouncing in time with your movements. You reached down, rubbing your clit as he thrust up to meet your descent, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I'm close..." you panted, your orgasm building to an explosive peak.

"Not yet," he commanded, his voice strained. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

He stood up, still buried deep inside you, and carried you to the nearby dining table. Laying you down on the smooth surface, he spread your legs wide, exposing your glistening pussy.

Kneeling between your thighs, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue laving your sensitive flesh. He ate you with a hunger that mirrored your own, his tongue flicking your clit, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Oh God, Joel!" you cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured you.

His eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. With one swift thrust, he impaled you on his shaft, filling you so completely that you screamed in pleasure.

He pounded into you, the table creaking with each powerful stroke. His eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze mirroring the intensity of his thrusts. You could see the desire and lust burning in his eyes, a reflection of the fire raging within you.

"You're so fucking wet, so tight around my cock," he grunted, his voice rough with passion. "I'm gonna make you come so hard."

He reached between your bodies, his fingers joining his cock in your slick heat. He rubbed your clit in firm circles, his rhythm perfectly matching his thrusts. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you soared towards the edge of bliss.

"Yes, yes, YES!" you screamed, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm exploded through you.

Joel groaned, his hips snapping forward one last time as he emptied his load deep inside you, his hot cum mixing with your juices. He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged against your neck.

As your heart rates slowed, you realized what you had just done. You had just engaged in the most mind-blowing sex of your life with your best friend's father.

"We can't tell Sarah about this," he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "But I can't deny that I want more of this. I want you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire and the hint of something more—something that went beyond physical attraction. "I want you too, Joel. But we need to be careful. We can't risk hurting Sarah."

“Won't say a word, Stays between us baby.” Joel kisses your head and finishes cleaning you up, helping you get dressed.

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 3

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Physical Violence, mention of Domestic Abuse, Language, little bit of spice

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

This chapter got a bit long….sorry. This chapter is a bit of a roller coaster, hold on. I promise it’s worth it, and please don’t come at me for things between the reader and Jensen. Things happen in life at different times. 

Minors DNI 18+

I smiled back, but as soon as he opened the door my smile was replaced by a look of horror. Jensen turned to look at the person at the door as I said, “Robert.”

Jensen’s jaw tightened. “Y/N, baby, I’ve missed you.” Jensen stepped, blocking Robert from seeing me.

“Who the hell are you, pretty boy?” Robert snarled. “The man who is going to tell you one time to get the fuck off this porch before I make you leave.” Jensen’s voice was stern and booming.

Robert scoffed, “I came to see my girlfriend, you need to step aside.” “She’s NOT your girlfriend, she broke up with you then you came back and beat her up.” Robert was trying to talk over Jensen’s shoulder, “Baby, please. I’m sorry. You know how I can get. You upset me when you told me to leave. I can’t live without you, please.”

A fury filled my body and I stood. I stepped behind Jensen, and softly touched his back, “It’s okay Jensen.” Jensen’s jaw was still tight but he stepped to my side. 

“Robert, I’m going to tell you one last time. This, us, we’re done. You put your hands on me, I ended up in the hospital from the beating you gave me. You don’t love me, and I’m not sure you’re even capable of it. Get off my property and don’t ever come back around me or my daughter.” 

“You bitch! I gave you 6 months of my life, put up with you and your whiny ass daughter.” Robert lunged for me and Jensen stepped in between the two of us. He grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back. “Y/N, call the police.” Jensen said over his shoulder.

I grabbed my phone and called the police. The dispatcher told me they would be there in a few minutes. “Jensen, they will be here soon.” I said after I hung up. 

Jensen looked at me, “Thank you sweetheart.” It was a term of endearment I’d heard him say a few times, only this time he said it in front of Robert, which pissed him off. 

“Oh I see, you broke up with me to be with pretty boy here. So how many times has she opened her legs for you? I could barely get her to go down on me, let alone fuck me.” Jensen was furious and without thinking he punched Robert in the face, then grabbed his chin tightly.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about her like that again. You have no idea what she’s been through. What YOU put her and her daughter through. You don’t get to think about her again. You hear me! You even utter her name and I’ll kick your ass. I’d gladly go to jail for her, for Jazzy.” 

My breath hitched. Nobody had ever defended me like Jensen was. My heart fluttered in my chest. I touched Jensen’s arm, “Jensen, it’s okay. Please don’t do this. He’s not worth it, I’m not worth it. Think about your children, your career. Jensen’s gaze turned toward me, “Y/N you’re worth so much. You’re an amazing mother, a kind person, and so damn beautiful. I’d gladly go to jail for you. Trust me, there is a lot more I’d like to do to him.” 

My hand still on Jensen’s arm, “Please, let him go. Look, the police are here.” Jensen’s eyes turned toward the driveway as a police cruiser pulled up. 

He let his hand drop and the deputy put Robert in cuffs. “I want to press charges against him. He punched me.” Robert yelled as the deputy escorted him to the car.

Jensen approached another officer. “Jensen, how are you?” The man asked. Jensen extended his hand, “I’m good, look man. I did punch him, but he was going for her and there’s no way in hell I was going to stand by and let him put his hands on her again.” “Sounds like you were protecting yourself and her. He has a history of attacking her, and he has a warrant out. Plus I didn’t see it, and I’m not taking his word.”

He smiled at Jensen, and then over at me. He whispered something to Jensen and then Jensen looked at me and smiled. The officer tipped his hat at me and walked away. “So do you know everyone here?” I asked Jensen as the officer walked away. “Oh, kinda. I grew up with Tom. We used to get into trouble growing up.” Jensen laughed. 

I stepped closer to Jensen and placed my hand in his, “Thank you, Jensen. For everything you’ve done for Jazzy and me. I can’t begin to repay you.”

He gently took my face in his hands and held my gaze, “Sweetheart, you don’t have to repay me for anything. We protect the ones we care about. Now come on, let’s go get the kids from school and have a sleepover at my place.” I smiled, “I’m sure the kids will love just one more night together. I’ll go get some things together, and Jensen, thank you.” I placed a soft kiss on his lips as I turned to walk towards my room. 

Jensen’s heart leaped in his chest and he felt a twinge of sadness replaying my words, “just one more night together” he didn’t want just one more night, he wanted the rest of your nights. It scared him, but he was falling in love with you. Jensen knew it was fast, but the need to protect you, give you the love you deserve was overwhelming, and he adored Jazzy. 

I came back to the living room with an overnight bag. “Ready to go home?” Jensen asked. I smiled when he said “home”. “Yeah, let’s go get the kiddos and go home.” 

Jensen took the bag from me and took my hand. My heart fluttered and I felt warmth through my body. Was it possible I was falling in love with him? I swallowed hard and looked at him as he took my hand in his. 

Our fingers interlocked and he held tightly. Jensen smiled at me as we walked to his car. He opened the door for me and I climbed in. Jensen walked around and put my stuff in the trunk then slid in the driver's seat. 

He grabbed my hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. I smiled at him and took a deep breath. Oh I knew I was in trouble. I definitely was falling in love with him. 

We pulled up at the school and Jensen got out. Walking into the school Jensen placed his hand on the small of my back. Looking up at him he smiled, “Is this okay?” I nodded, “Yes, more than okay Jensen.” 

I waited anxiously with Jensen by my side for the kids to come up to the office. I heard Jazzy and Zeppelin giggling before I saw them. 

When Jazzy turned the corner and saw me she ran with her arms open wide. “Mommy!! You’re back. I missed you so much!” I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms tightly. I kissed her and told her how much I missed her. 

I noticed Zeppelin and Arrow standing to the side looking a little sad. I opened my arms and motioned for them to come to me and they leaped in my arms too. 

Jensen’s heart leaped. In that moment he saw the love you had for his children just pouring into the tight embrace you held the three children in. 

How could something so new, feel so incredibly perfect and easy? There was no way he could let you go, he only hoped you felt the same way. 

About 15 minutes later JJ was picked up and the six of you were headed to Jensen’s house. The kids talking and giggling in the backseat, Jensen and I stealing glances at each other. 

Something about this felt right, normal. Like it was meant to be. I looked out the window of the car and a tear slipped out. A wave of guilt washed over me. I missed Josh, I missed the life we shared and mourned the future we lost. How would he feel about Jensen? How would he feel about me falling for someone so quickly?

Jensen’s eyes were drifting from the road to me. He noticed my posture change and he caught a glimmer of a tear. Jensen wasn’t sure if he should reach out to me or not. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the four children in the backseat. This moment, with the kids in the backseat and me by his side, felt right. His mind drifted to his late wife. A pang of guilt washed over him. How would she feel if she knew he was falling in love again? Would she be upset, or encourage it? He knew he needed to talk to Jared to help sort out his feelings. 

Arriving at Jensen’s house the kids jumped out and ran inside. Jensen grabbed my bag and helped me inside. “Let me show you where the guestroom is. I just got it cleaned out. Jazzy was sleeping on a makeshift bed in my room, but we can move her into the guestroom tonight.” “Thank you, Jensen. I really appreciate everything.”

Jensen carried my bag upstairs and showed me the guestroom. It was a large room, with an ensuite bathroom, and a king size bed. It was modestly decorated, but was warm and inviting. “I hope this is okay?” I stepped closer, touched his arm and said, “It’s perfect, thank you.” I placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

He cleared his throat, “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I need to make a phone call, but when I’m done I’ll start cooking dinner.” “Jensen, let me help you with dinner, please.” “Oh no, absolutely not. You’re my guest and you need to be resting.” Jensen said.

I sighed, “Okay, I’m not going to argue. I’ll get settled and see you soon.” Jensen smiled in victory and walked to his office. Shutting the door, he sat at the desk and pulled out his phone. Jensen called Jared. “Hey Jens, how’s Y/N?” Jared asked as he answered the phone. “She’s good, we are home, well at my house. I really needed to talk to you, Jar.” 

“Sure, man. What’s up? Is everything okay?” “I don’t know man. We kissed and it felt right, perfect. Being with her feels natural, the kids all being together, it feels like…” Jensen’s voice trailed off and Jared spoke, “Like the two of you are meant to be together?” Jensen’s voice soft, “Yes.”

Jared and Jensen sat in silence for a minute. “Jar, I’m falling in love with her and it scares the hell out of me. I feel like I’m betraying Dee, but, ugh, I don’t know man.” Jensen ran his hand through his hair. “Jensen, you’re not betraying anyone. She would want you to be happy and move on. If things feel like this, talk to Y/N. I bet she’s feeling the same way because what you’re saying has happened. Just talk to her, please.” 

Jensen sighed, “Yeah, thanks man. I’ll let you know how it goes.” “Okay, and Jensen, everything is going to be fine.” After a few minutes of talking the two friends said their goodbyes, leaving Jensen with his thoughts. Thoughts that kept drifting back to you, the kiss, and how it felt to have your hand in his. He took a deep breath and let it out. He knew he needed to talk to you. If the death of his wife taught him anything it was to never leave anything unsaid.

Walking through the house, he found you downstairs watching the kids play outside. A smile plastered on your face.

I turned when I heard Jensen walk into the room, “Hey, look at these four. They are having a blast. I’m so glad Jazzy has them.” Jensen smiled, stepped closer and looked at the children playing in the backyard. 

I felt him step closer to me, his body heat enveloping me like a warm blanket. 

His hand brushed gently against mine and I looked at him. His green eyes full of love and desire. Jensen smiled and softly said, “Hey, can we talk?” I nodded, my heart thumping loudly in my ears and caught in my throat.

We sat down on the couch, and I was terrified. I didn’t realize I was shaking, Jensen took my hands in his. “Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to be scared of me, of anything ever again. I’m here for you and Jazzy for as long as you want.” 

My head was down, I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I knew if I did all the love, all the feelings I was trying to keep inside would just bubble out. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, I couldn’t take his children away from Jazzy.

Jensen’s hands lightly tilted my chin up, “Please look at me, sweetheart.” My eyes flicked up and I looked into his. Jensen smiled, “I have no idea how to start this conversation, and I don’t know how it’s going to end but I do know I need to tell you this.” 

I swallowed hard, terrified of what he was about to say. My words caught in my throat, my voice wouldn’t allow me to speak so I just nodded.

“When my wife died I was devastated, lost and broken. My focus shifted to the kids and taking care of them. Then you and Jazzy came into our lives. Now my focus has shifted again, and it includes you and Jazzy. I can’t explain it, but being with you, having the two of you here feels right, like you’re supposed to be here. Then we kissed and I haven’t felt what I felt in a long time. It honestly scares me because it’s so fast, but I’m ready to jump into whatever this is. I think, no, I know I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.” Jensen let out a deep breath when he finished talking, it was like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders.

Tears filled my eyes. Jensen’s flashed with fear. “Jensen, when Josh died I didn’t think I’d ever be whole again. I had Jazzy and I felt so alone. I finally got the courage to date and you saw how that ended with Robert. Then you and your kids came into our lives at just the right moment. When you moved heaven and earth to get to me after I called you that night, when you took Jazzy in and sat at the hospital with me, I knew I was falling for you. Then we kissed and I hadn’t felt anything like that since Josh. When you protected me from Robert today, I knew I had fallen in love with you. You and your kids are everything to me. I’m scared, but more scared to just walk away from this. I don’t know where this is going to lead, but if you’re willing to try, so am I.” 

Jensen softly smiled and I saw the fear in his eyes replaced with joy and love. He cupped my face, leaned in and kissed me. My hands went in his hair and he pulled me close. He deepened the kiss. We were so into the kiss we didn’t hear the door open. 

Then a little voice pulled us out of the kiss, “Daddy..” Jensen smiled against my lips as we pulled away. My face was red and he was smiling, “Hey Zeppy, what’s up buddy?” “Um, can we have a snack?”

Jensen cleared his throat, stood and said, “Yep, let’s get you guys some snacks.” Jensen looked back at me and winked and I smiled.

I stood and walked in the kitchen to help him make a snack. Each time we passed each other we would gently touch each other. He reached above my head to grab some plates and as he did he placed a soft kiss on my cheek. 

Butterflies filled my stomach. I felt like a teenager in love. 

We walked outside with the snacks and were greeted by four giggling children. “What’s so funny guys?” Jensen asked as he set the snacks down. JJ walked over, “Daddy, are you and Miss Y/N getting married?” Jensen and I both looked stunned, “What? Why would you ask that?” “Because Zeppy said he saw you two kiss like you and mommy used to.” 

My face burned red hot. Jensen chuckled, “No, sometimes when you like someone a lot you kiss them like that to show them. But only grown ups kiss like that.” You chuckled when he said that because it was such a dad thing to say. 

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and spending time together. Jensen made burgers on the grill as the kids played in the yard and I sat watching. I tried to help but he wouldn’t let me. 

I sat on the back porch as the sun started setting, watching the kids play and Jensen cooking. I couldn’t help but smile. This was a perfect moment. Jazzy was having so much fun playing with the kids and I loved seeing this side of Jensen. 

“Hey, sweetheart, what are you thinking about?” Jensen asked as he smiled at me. “Just how perfect this is. Jazzy is having a blast and I just feel really lucky to be a part of this.” 

Jensen walked over to me, held out his hand and pulled me up. “This can be our life, for as long as you want.” I smiled, looked over at the kids and then up at him. I placed a soft kiss on his lips. 

Jazzy came running up, “Daddy, can I have a juice box?” I whipped my head to look at her, surprised by what she said. Jensen smiled and then Jazzy realized what she said. 

A look of embarrassment crossed her face. She took off inside, crying. 

I let go of Jensen and started to go after her. He touched my arm, “Let me go talk to her, please.” He asked gently. I nodded. 

He walked inside and found her hiding on the side of the bed. “Jazzy, sweetie, come out. It’s okay baby.” She peeked over the bed at Jensen. Her big eyes, red from crying. 

He motioned for her to come out. She slowly got up and walked over to him. Jensen pulled her in his lap and hugged her. Jazzy looked at him and sniffled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you daddy.” She said as her tears fell again. 

Jensen wiped her tears away and hugged her, “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay. You can call me Jensen, Daddy, or Daddy Jensen if you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with is okay with me.” 

Jazzy’s eyes went wide, “I can call you daddy?” Jensen smiled and let out a little chuckle, “If you want to.” She smiled and nodded, “I don’t remember my daddy, but mommy says he loved me very much and always took care of me. You take care of me too. I think you are like my daddy.” 

I stood in the hallway listening to them and my heart melted and ached too. Josh was an incredible father and it breaks my heart Jazzy missed out on it, but I’m so glad she has Jensen. 

Jensen hugged her and kissed her head. “Come on sweetie, let’s go get washed up for dinner.” She nodded and jumped down, running out of the room and down stairs. 

When Jensen walked out of the room he saw me and smiled, “How much of that did you hear?” I stepped up to him, put my arms around his neck, “Enough to know you’re more amazing than I imagined, and we are so lucky to have you.” Jensen smiled, pulled me flush to his body, “I’m the lucky one baby. You and Jazzy fit perfectly here with us.” 

I smiled and kissed him, he deepened the kiss and I couldn’t help but moan in his mouth. When we finally parted I looked into his green eyes, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing you.” Jensen laughed, “Good, because I won’t either.” Then he kissed me again. 

A few hours later the giggles of the children had quieted and they were in bed. Jensen and I sat together on the couch. My legs to the side of me as I laid against him. His arm laying on me, and his fingers dancing up and down my arm.

“Jensen, how is this going to work?” I asked, breaking the silence that filled the room. Jensen turned towards me, taking my hands in his, “Baby, we will figure it out. When I’m gone filming I’ll call you as often as I can, video chat when I can too, when I’m home, we will all be together, spending nights like this. I’m all in, Y/N.” 

“I’m all in too, Jensen.” I moved to kiss him and he pulled me over to straddle his lap. My sleep shorts were thin and his sweatpants left nothing to the imagination. As I straddled him and kissed him deeper, I could feel his arousal pressing into me. My hips moved down and pressed his desire into me, pulling a moan from his lips. 

His hands trailed up my body and it sent a rush of heat through my body. My heart quickened as my hands rested on his rock hard chest. I could feel my desire growing as Jensen’s hands moved over my body.

His teeth pulled my lower lip and I moaned. Jensen’s hands tugged at the hem of my shirt. I shook my head and he quickly pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side. My bra covered breasts exposed to the cool air. Jensen looked over my body, his eyes scanning every inch. It made me feel vulnerable and desired all at once. His fingers danced across my skin, softly touching each bruise left by Robert. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You deserve so much better.” His lips kissed each bruise, like a silent plea to make it go away. I had never felt more wanted, needed and protected then I did when I was in his arms.

“Jensen, please.” “Are you sure, darlin’? We don’t have to rush this.” “Yes, I want this, I want you. If you do.” 

Jensen pulled me into a deep kiss. This kiss was different than before. It was full of need, passion and want. I returned his kiss with equal fervor. 

Jensen leaned back, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s take this to the bedroom.” I nodded and he helped me stand. He took my hand and led me through the house to his bedroom. 

Once in the room, he closed the door and locked it. Capturing my lips again, he led me backwards to the bed. Gently laying me down, he hovered over me. He leaned up and removed his shirt. When I took in his chest, my thighs clenched together. Damn this man was stunning. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Jensen asked softly as his lips trailed over my skin. “Yes. I’m ready, are you?” Jensen nodded, “More than ready.”

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[randomfoggytiger]

So, ehat was your take of the podcast of these two old friends? I thought it was lovely and different than his other podcasts. She gets him to relax.

Now, what about the recreation of the picture they said they would do?:) I think they might have talked about the picture but not when the photoshoot would happen. Xmas is around the corner. Come on guys, give the Fandom a merry David-Gillian gift of all time! It's been a dry spell without your loving craziness. Hike up those stockings on your little legs, G, and hop onto those DD shoulders.

It'd be funny if they did, wouldn't it? It'd also be funny if they recreated it in a way that wouldn't hurt either of their backs, shoulders, or knees, too. XDDD

I had an excellent time with the podcast! It confirmed every single one of my suspicions, theories, and guestimations of their friendship: their personalities, their focuses, their dynamic then, their dynamic now, etc. It was refreshing. It was, for lack of a better word, simple: the facts were the facts were the facts, and there wasn't anything big or grand to be made of their interactions, past or present.

I liked hearing them talk over each other. I liked that both admitted to already butting heads in Season 1. I liked that both admitted they'd never thought to trade childhood stories, or cross their personal lives over.

Most of all, I loved their candor: David admitting he felt dumped in the Revival, and that Gillian didn't know and felt sorry in retrospect. That Gillian didn't feel dumped during the first run. That Gillian thought the Revival's story line reduced her character, especially the ending. That David felt trapped and villainized over the pay gap issue; and only later learned his pay wasn't due to his merit so much as internal favoritism. That Gillian now understands and feels for his pain. That David still feels the sting of Vancouver hating him and being forced out of rehab anonymity, and all the pain he gathered from both incidences. That Gillian admitted she doesn't process shame, just stays too busy to have to face it. That David felt comfortable to say that was unhealthy, and that she felt comfortable enough to hum in agreement. That both know their children have to fail, because they would fail their own children if they stopped those failures. That David tried to drill into his son that he's a miserable person and nothing is as it seems; but that that perspective hadn't worked. That Gillian feels motherhood is the most fulfilling thing for her, yet chooses her work over and over (again, staying too busy to feel shame.) That DD knew as early as Season 1 that Chris intended for Mulder and Scully to be an end goal-- asking CC if he wanted to send GA and himself to couples' counseling as their characters. That GA forgot and laughed over the memory. That Gillian arrived late after he offered her a ride on his private aircraft; then wrote him a beautiful letter, on the plane, instead of saying those words in person. That he marveled she hadn't gone insane from the pressure. That she no longer feels the need to run from Scully's legacy. That both admitted that communication, though important, was non-existent during that time in their lives.

There are so many good bits. But I have two takeaways:

They have the same frenetic drive, the same "crazy" as David calls it; but I can see why it drove a wedge between them (and could, now): they wouldn't be able to tolerate that same freneticism in each other in large doses. (Hence, why they didn't speak for weeks while on set, and were already exchanging "blows" in Season 1.)

Most importantly, they were two old friends who purposefully dug in and rediscovered new things about each other. The camaraderie was different: settled, more "in-character" to how I think they talk when David doesn't feel like he has to perform (though there was a bit of that) and Gillian doesn't feel uneasy, or anxious, or "watched."

In short: they felt wholly the same, but in a new way. :DDDDD

[redvexillum]

Hey there my sweetest, beloved Vexi ♡

I just wanted to share something personal with you that you can then share with others because I know that they feel the same.

Writing has always been my passion. It's been the one thing that has kept me afloat in my life. Regardless of whether people love my writing or hate it, I would continue for the sake of continuing because it is my life.

But when I rejoined fandom spaces, I was terrified after hearing stories of how the culture had changed significantly. Interaction is lower, and hate has unfortunately always made its home in these communities. Given I share fanfiction solely to share with the aforementioned communities, I found myself afraid that I would get hate messages. I was afraid I wouldn't have a community that would stand up for me if that were to happen. While it would never deter me from what I love, I was scared that friendships and positivity were long dead in this space. Fandom felt lonely.

You know what though? I have met wonderful person after wonderful person. And then I met you too. There you are, getting some of the most horrendous messages I've ever seen sent to another human being, and you continue to push for positivity - smiling and laughing with us about how much you just want to see people happy.

Then you went on to start share some of the wonderful messages you recieved throughout that ordeal, only to begin writing positive affirmations and thoughts for us. Once upon a time, I struggled to accept this sort of positivity, I will admit that. When I was having a rough time, I would often see messages like that as 'hollow' for a lack of better words. I would be angry or bitter that others could think like that when I struggled so much to feel like those words should have meant something to me.

While time has passed since I was that person, I still remember the feeling of hopelessness, yet that doesn't deter from the fact that people like you - and countless others - single handedly restored my faith in these communities.

People like you remind me why I cling to my ideals of treating everyone with kindness no matter what. To try to understand other people. To help others. These are all things that bring us closer together. People like you, @silva-daemonium, @fraugwinska, @macabr3-barbi3, @chrisemrysfics, @melodyonthewireless, @dewdropdinosaur, @xalygatorx, @kewpikayo, @jurijyuu, @jalicecookie, AND SO MANY MORE do so much to support those around you.

All of this came about because I wanted to say thank you for posting those short little messages of encouragment. I know that I have appreciated them. Sure, they might seem a little cheesy to me on a morning when I'm tired - but they really make me smile, and prepare me to tackle whatever the day gives.

You're the beating heart of positivity.

It's a fairytale ending to the horror stories I expected.

I know that other people will see this too, so I just wanted to wish everyone that sees this a relaxing morning, afternoon, evening - timezone in general! You're here, and you've worked hard to be here all this time. Everything you've needed to do to achieve that, you've done. That's huge. I'm so proud of everyone, and my DMs are always open to anyone who might be struggling or just wants to talk. I'll always aim to help my community in the same way that Vexi has demonstrated.

Love to you all, and again, thank you for your messages, Vexi!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Cirice, I honestly don’t have the words to fully capture how much your kindness means to me. You are truly one of the most thoughtful, beautiful souls I’ve ever had the honor to meet, and I can’t thank you enough for your words. Knowing that something I’ve done has made even a small impact on people like you is still so surreal to me. I’m just deeply grateful that you’re part of this community.

You and so many others are the reason why I’ve stayed here longer than in any other fandom. It’s been the most heartwarming experience. This community, especially people like you, has genuinely transformed my perspective on what fandoms can be: a space filled with compassion, creativity, and connection.

Thank you for sharing your story, for giving me (and others) a piece of your heart. I hope your words reach others, inspiring them to create, to feel they belong, and to understand how wonderful it is to be part of something like this. Knowing we’re all here together, finding meaning in these connections, it makes the world feel a little less lonely and a lot brighter. 💖

Also tagging the people that didn't get properly tagged because tumblr is broken: @dewdropdinosaur @xalygatorx @kewpikayo @jurijyuu @jailcecookie

[marauder-misprint]

Lion

Remus Lupin x gn!reader

Microfic - 663 words

cw: fluff

“Can you make it make sense?” Remus asks.

“I can try,” you reply, looking up from the essay you’re working on.

You and Remus are in the library working on homework. You don’t think it’s too odd that he’s asking for help with his Ancient Runes homework despite you not taking that class; sometimes you just need a fresh set of eyes to look something over. It happens all the time with your Divination work. However, when you look at him, he’s not looking at the assignment in front of him. He’s staring off in the distance at another table. You follow his gaze and see James and Lily canoodling. 

“Their relationship or how he got Head Boy?” you ask, trying to suppress a smile. 

“Relationships in general,” he sighs. “I don’t understand how people are able to just get together.”

“It usually involves one person liking another.”

He looks at you to make sure you see him roll his eyes. 

“Well, duh.”

“And, I guess, they communicate that they’re both interested. And a relationship is born.”

“That’s where I get lost. How do you tell someone that?”

You chuckle, setting your quill down. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Yeah? You got your eyes on someone?”

“Someone? Rem, I’ve fancied the same bloke for years.”

“Why don’t you say anything to him?”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Have you met me? I break into a sweat when I raise my hand in class. I’m not a lion like you.” You pause for a moment. “The fear of rejection and losing the friendship I currently have with him is too much.”

He shakes his head. “How could anyone reject you, love? You’re wonderful.”

“You’re my friend. You have to say that,” you say with a soft smile. 

“No, really. I haven’t met a single person who doesn’t like you. Brilliant, friendly, kind, beautiful, considerate…”

You blush at him saying ‘beautiful.’ 

“Stop it! Now, what about you? Someone capture your attention enough? Or are you just jealous of James and Lily in general?”

Remus scoffs. “I’m not jealous. But yes. There’s someone. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about ‘em lately.”

“Then you tell them how you feel. Channel that inner Gryffindor lion and go get ‘em.”

“I don’t know how. What do I say? Do I just say ‘hey, I fancy you,’ and wait for a response? Do I walk away? Do I immediately plan a date? Why would I plan a date before I even know if they like me back? Merlin, how could anyone like me back?”

“Hey,” you say, reaching out to grab his jaw to quiet him. He stares at you with wide eyes. “If I tell my person that I like them, you’ll tell yours?”

He nods and you let go of his jaw. Something about Remus being so nervous about this lit a fuse in you that convinces you to risk it. 

“Remus, you’re the one I fancy. I really, really like you and I have for years. Since we practically met, I’ve been enamored with you.” 

You stare at him, trying to get a read on him. His jaw goes slack as he stares back at you. The lack of response tells you that he doesn’t feel the same. You had hoped that maybe, just maybe, you were the person he was talking about. You had no real reason to think that he liked you back, but a person can dream. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers before leaning in and smashing his lips to yours.

It’s a bit rough and sloppy, but Remus is kissing you and you couldn’t ask for anything else. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide with shock.

“Shit, I hope that was okay,” he says, sitting up straight in his chair and looking away. “I… it’s just… You’ve been… I like you.”

You smile and shake your head. “There’s that lion-esque confidence I was told you Gryffindors have.”

[scribbling-dragon]

cor cordium

summary:

in one's heart of hearts

phrase of heart 1. in one's inmost feelings.

(ao3 link)

(5,554 words)

It is the moment between one wildcard and the next.

The utter silence that settles around Scott is…unsettling. The stillness of the air feels wrong, too empty compared with the chaos from mere moments before. His life has been filled with nothing but movement and motion for the past eternity; it has been so long, so hectic, that he is not certain when he last had a moment to simply…stand. To sit and appreciate the sun as it rises over the horizon. To sit and watch as the world springs into life without looking over his shoulder every other moment.

Each second he stands here, unmoving, is another moment that is lost. There is beauty in the tranquillity of it all, something that he thought might be lost. Something that he still hasn’t regained, even with the apparent peace that follows.

He cannot help but glance over his shoulder, even as he misses the moment the sun peeks over the horizon line, turning from a soft glow into a full-on burst of sunlight when he turns around again. There is no longer a snail to dog his steps, to lurk around each shadowed corner and stalk him into submission.

He can feel the exhaustion tugging on the edge of his mind. Can feel the way his eyes droop with exhaustion, and still he does not sleep. Impulse had been the first to crash after the snails returned to wherever they came from, announcing abruptly that they won’t see him until the next wildcard is announced, and that anyone to wake him up before then would be meeting with the business end of his sword.

Cleo had laughed, but they had been the next to disappear as well. Scott hadn’t missed the way they’d looked at him, one eyebrow raised in question, lips tugging down into a frown – he’d waved them off, dismissed them easily as he turned back to the stars and the lightening sky. They had waited beside him for a few moments, questions radiating off their posture before exhaustion seemed to win out there too.

It had been just him and Pearl, after that.

He wasn’t surprised. Pearl had stuck to her odd hours; he’s still not sure what’s wrong with her circadian rhythm, but she sticks to it happily, watching the stars slowly move over head. The moon had been at Scott's back as it set, and Pearl sat facing away from him to watch it descend, and, eventually, disappear.

No words had been exchanged between them – it’s still a little uncomfortable; each poorly timed joke feels as though it is a blade dragged over a scarcely healed wound, opening it back up for infection to sneak its way back in.

Scott can't see this ending well. Can't see any of this ending well – it never does, so why should this time be any different? He may have resolved his hurts with Pearl, may have taken a step forward with mending relations between them. He was almost eager to begin looking past the tattered memories of their soulbond, of being cast aside so callously, and of the hurt he delivered in return.

In the moment, he could say that it was justified. That he had a reason, a good reason to be reacting in such a way. Looking back, he cannot help but feel as though it was an overreaction, one driven by the cold and the fear and the pain and the hurt.

Pearl’s back pressed to against his own, a wall of warmth at his back (guarding him, some part of him whispered, keeping him safe. Watching his back where he himself cannot watch it – he was watching her back too, in a way), felt like an olive branch. Something extended in an offer of friendship; something held out in memory, a peace offering of remember how it used to be?

Scott takes it. Because he is a coward and because he misses it. Misses their house, tucked away in the forest, safe from most anything atop their tower. He misses the easy laughter and the friendship, the silent camaraderie that they had held and taken for granted; hates the silence that fills the moments between them now, how each conversation feels as though they're skipping around the delicate topics, wary of pushing the other too close to an edge.

Pearl had left with the setting of the moon, and Scott remained. Pearl hadn’t questioned his decision, hadn’t tried to cajole him towards his own bed. She simply stood, a whisper of cloth, pressed a hand to his shoulder, and then left him to it.

The trees begin to light up with the sun, smooth rays of light brushing over their leaves. They seem brighter today, unburdened by the shadows of the days that came before this. The days of fear and tension. Scott has never understood the feeling of a prey animal before now, and he doubts he will ever feel such a primal fear again. It had pushed him further than he likes to reflect on, had made panic gather in his throat and weigh heavy upon his chest.

His heart gives an odd little jump with the thought, lurching forward as though it might leap right out of his chest and land on the floor in front of him. He wonders if it would continue beating with his panic, pulsing in time with a body it is no longer a part of. He feels a little sick just imagining it.

“Scott oh Scott, can you let down your hair?”

Scott leans a little further over the edge of the wall, just enough that he can look down at Martyn below. He stands pressed up against the base of the wall, hands spread upwards and out, grinning. He looks a little worse for wear, hair mussed and the purple around his eyes indicating his lack of sleep. Scott doubts he looks much better.

“I wasn’t aware you needed permission.” He leans his chin into one hand as he speaks. “You normally invite yourself in.”

“Didn’t think it would be wise to sneak up on you today,” Martyn laughs. There is something nervous about it, something unsettled. His face is turned upwards, not glancing over his shoulder every few moments. Scott still notices the way his hands shake, how his shoulders twitch at the rustle of leaves as the wind rushes through the trees. “I've seen the weaponry you carry with you.” Martyn smirks, and Scott grins right back at him.

“If you can climb up, you're more than welcome to join me.” He calls back. He doesn’t ask where Ren is, nor does Martyn ask where the rest of his teammates are. Perhaps Ren is asleep too, has crashed after the stress of the snails and everything they entailed.

He is surprised to see Martyn here; seeing him alone is even stranger – he and Ren have been more attached at the hip than usual recently, so to see one without the other feels as though he’s only seeing half the picture.

Martyn hauls himself onto the wall from the ground, fingers digging into the gaps between the cobbles, leaning an elbow on Scott's dangling foot when he gets close enough. Scott kicks at his ribs, half-hearted at best, but Martyn swings away from the wall, almost seeming to slip, and-

Scott reaches forward, grabbing at the shoulders of Martyn's hoodie. The fabric bunches up beneath his fingers, his nails digging in too deep. He can feel the flesh of Martyn's skin beneath his hands, can feel the life that runs through him, still.

Martyn laughs. “Did you really think I’d fall?”

He still has a grip on the wall, Scott realises. One foot wedged into the cobbles, digging in deep enough that he stands there quite happily, Scott's hands fisted in the fabric of his clothing, uncaring or unknowing of how easily Scott could twist him around, leave him hanging upon the wall and finally retire to his bed.

He does not do this.

He continues to hold Martyn, continues to hold his hoodie even as Martyn pulls himself up. He does not react outwardly, tries not to, as Martyn skims a hand over his leg, up it, feigning difficulty reaching the top of the wall, fingers dancing across the stone teasingly as he searches for some purchase on the unyielding rock.

Scott releases him once Martyn is comfortably on top of the wall, one leg still hanging below, but secure enough that he won’t fall backwards and break himself on the forest floor.

(The drop is not a particularly large one, but he doesn’t want to test anyone’s limits right now. Not when everything seems so much more fragile, when exhaustion weighs at everyone’s bones and slows the mind, when one flailing motion could be the difference between life and death. Scott has seen enough death in the last few hours, has watched his friends get slaughtered by a slow, immovable force. He has stared death in the face several times today, and each time he walked away with shaking hands and a frantically beating heart.)

“You know,” Martyn starts, conversational, “I wasn’t sure you'd be able to catch me.”

“Hm.” The sun is higher in the sky. Everything seems so much brighter than usual to his overtired eyes. “And why wouldn’t I? Have you suddenly lost faith in me?”

“Certainly not.” Martyn shuffles to the side, shuffles closer until their shoulders are a whisper apart. A single movement threatens to press them together from hip to knee. Scott resists, but only barely. He can feel the warmth radiating off Martyn from here. “You’ve had a few changes this season, that’s all. Unless those eyes are purely cosmetic?”

He can feel Martyn's eyes on the side of his face, so intense that he suspects Martyn is reading his mind right now, peering into the depths of his brain and gathering the thoughts together to turn over and examine. There’s not really anything interesting going on in there, just thoughts of the sunrise and how tired he is and how close Martyn now sits next to him, and whether he can shuffle just a little closer, press them shoulder to hip to knee to ankle and play it off as a casual motion.

Perhaps Martyn really is reading his thoughts – or maybe Scott is just tired enough that his wants are written across every inch of his face – because he shuffles closer. Presses his shoulder to Scott's own, a line of heat along the left side of his body. He hooks their ankles together, their legs swinging back and forth together, as though they are one.

“They aren’t.” Scott answers, a little belatedly. The exhaustion makes him slow, makes the thoughts in his brain move like molasses and his tongue weigh heavy in his mouth. “I…well, I guess the forest took a little piece of me when we welcomed BigB in; replaced that missing piece with a little bit of itself.”

“Mm.” Martyn continues to watch. His gaze is warm on the side of Scott's face, watching, cataloguing. Scott wonders if his eyes glow in the light, if they brighten more, turning molten in the face of the sun. He feels warm and heavy beneath the gaze, slow to move, slow to react. He finds that he does not particularly mind. “Then why don't you freeze up when I watch you? You still move, your joints still bend, and your heart still beats.”

“I am not a creature of the forest.”

“But the forest is a part of you, is it not? It has changed BigB, and yet you remain the same, save for these.” The first touch of Martyn's hand to the paper-thin skin beneath his eye is careful, gentle. He touches Scott like he is something delicate, something precious.

He turns into it, leaning into the touch. It turns a little heavier, pressing into his cheekbone. He can feel the pulse of Martyn's thumb, the slow thump of a calm heart behind it. Scott wonders if Martyn can feel the way his own heart races, the way it rabbits in his chest.

His eyes begin to slip shut, half-lidded as he turns towards Martyn. Martyn watches him back, expression shuttered and hidden behind something unreadable.

“Do you like it?” Scott finds himself asking. It’s not what he means to say, and definitely not what Martyn expected him to say. It leaves the two of them just as surprised as each other; it’s just enough to chip away the first corner of Martyn's unreadable mask, leaving something a little more genuine beneath it; something a little more alive.

“I…yeah,” Martyn breathes. He swipes a thumb beneath Scott's eye again, before he shifts his hand to settle it fully against his cheek so it cradles his face; pulls him a little closer. The warmth of his hand threatens to scald the skin, to leave an imprint there; Scott worries, for a moment, that the shape of Martyn's hand will truly burn into his face, that he shall have to return to his teammates and explain away the sudden, hand-shaped marking on one side of his face. “Your eyes have always been my favourite part of you,” Martyn murmurs, voice low, as though this is some scandalous confession.

“I know,” he laughs, muffled, leaning in to keep this secretive air between them. They breathe the same air this close. “I've noticed.”

There’s a light flush of colour along the high of Martyn's cheeks, he notes from beneath lidded eyes. It is like the slow rising of the sun, a slight blush along the sky as it approaches, a precursor to the burst of colour that explodes outwards at the first hint of the sun truly rising.

In a similar fashion, Martyn's flush quickly travels down his neck and across his ears; he looks faintly embarrassed, abashed even as he continues to hold Scott's face within the palm of his hand.

He feels as though he could fall asleep here; simply lean his head a little further into the touch and close his eyes entirely. The skin on Martyn's palm is calloused, a little rough and torn around the edges, but each of the grooves and bumps are something that Scott knows, he has spent hours cataloguing each of the blemishes on Martyn's hands, studying the valleys on the palm of his hand, tracing the individual lines back and forth until Martyn relents and squirms away with a short it tickles as explanation.

Scott raises his own hand to Martyn's risk, encircling it within his own grip. He feels the way Martyn tenses fearing his hand being pulled away, before relaxing once more as Scott simple holds onto him. his fingers lay across Martyn's pulse point, though he does not press hard enough to truly feel it. He watches it instead, eyes on Martyn's neck as it thumps with the steady, hard beat of a heart.

Scott's own heart beats in tandem.

“Your pupils are so bright like this,” Martyn tells him. Scott knows, had spent several hours bent over a small hand mirror when the changes first settled. Had peeled back his eyelid to see how far the orange spread, whether it was the entirety of his eye of simply the most visible part. Even the colour of his veins had changed, glowing a bright gold beneath his skin rather than the usual blue. “I like it.”

“Well, I'm glad. I'm certainly stuck with this pair of eyes for the foreseeable future, until I can switch them out again.”

“Ugh, don't say it like that,” Martyn uses his grip on Scott's face to wiggle his head back and forth gently, chastising. “Makes it sound like you're just going to pop these eyes out and pick your next pair from some gross eye-shop.”

“Maybe I will. Some of the newer eye cybernetics are quite fascinating,” he jokes.

“Don't you dare,” Martyn laughs. “I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye ever again if you did that!”

“Mm. You certainly wouldn’t be looking into these eyes if I did that.”

“Can't you just take a compliment? Why’d you have to make it all weird – I was being nice. I was being charming, even! And then you had to go and ruin it.”

Scott laughs at the frown on his face. “Poor thing, I've ruined it all for you now, haven’t I?”

“I was being all suave and flirting,” Martyn insists. Scott lets him have it, because he’s certain the awkward, stumbling way he delivered all of his lines was smooth in Martyn's sleep-deprived brain. He's lucky that Scott finds him so endearing otherwise it would have been painful to sit through it all. He strokes his thumb over the soft underside of Martyn's wrist.

“I know, dear.” He assures. “It was very sweet.”

“Thank you,” Martyn preens a little, leaning closer. “Don't you think I've earned a kiss? For all my hard work?”

“And what hard work would that be?” Scott asks, as he leans back just a little. He feels his lips twitch as Martyn frowns. Martyn can be so expressive when he wants to be, when he’s not locking his true thoughts behind a blank mask or hiding them behind an overexaggerated façade. Scott loves the small crinkle between his brow and the way his nose scrunches when he's annoyed, loves to brush those wrinkles away from his face with a soothing touch or a kind word.

“I walked all the way here from my base and climbed this wall to be next to you. That’s hard work, y’know.”

“Oh, yes. You do know there are stairs just behind us, right? Some that you could have climbed to spare you a little of that effort.”

“I prefer taking the more difficult route when it means someone like you is waiting at the end of it.”

“Flatterer.”

“Don't you know it,” Martyn grins. “C’mon, just a little kiss? A small peck, even?”

“When have you ever been content with just a small kiss?” Scott asks. His other hand, the one not currently curled possessively around a wrist, begins to slide up Martyn's side as he speaks. He can feel Martyn's hand at the small of his back, thumb resting just above his hip.

“When have you?” Martyn counters.

And, well, Scott simply shrugs because he has no good response to that. It’s true, certainly. He can think of several moments when their eagerness for contact, for hands upon each other, has been a detriment to themselves and those around them.

He can feel the warmth of Martyn's breath spreading over his cheeks, a ghost of a touch, before the distance is closed and Martyn presses his mouth to Scott's own.

It is a short touch, a press of warmth between the two of them, mouths close and perfectly respectable. Something that lasts all of a few moments as Martyn's hand abruptly moves upwards on Scott's side, slipping beneath his shirt.

He can feel Martyn's smug smile against his lips when they pull back just slightly, away from the moment of intimacy. A breath before a dive.

Scott is the first one to break free from the standstill, eyes slipping fully shut as he slots his lips back against Martyn's, mapping his body out with his touch rather than his eyes as he pushes forward, leaning further and further into Martyn's space.

The hand on his back shifts to his hip, fingers beginning to dig in; any harder and they’ll leave a bruise, Scott tries not to think too hard about that. He doesn’t have to try very hard for long as Martyn presses back at him, recovered from his momentary shock, lips parting as a tongue brushes over Scott's lips.

He sighs into the kiss, a short, breathy sound that he's embarrassed about for all of three seconds before Martyn is drawing the remainder of the breath from his lungs.

He melts forward as Martyn presses another kiss into him, deeper than the one before that, feels his heart stutter in his chest as Martyn bites into his lip, hard enough to draw blood to the surface. The taste of iron doesn’t sway him, if anything it only spurs him on further when they pull apart for a moment, both of their chests heaving from breathlessness and exhilaration alike, and Scott can see the gold of his blood on Martyn's lip, slowly trickling down to his jaw.

He wipes it away with one thumb, succeeding only in smearing it from the corner of Martyn's mouth. It looks like kiss-smudged lipstick and Scott finds that he likes it far too much to be parted from Martyn for much longer than is necessary, pulling him back in.

The heat of Martyn's hand travels up his back, steps over each of the vertebrae in his spine as the moments tick on, seeming to become longer and longer with each moment. Scott can feel the beating of his heart, can feel the thumping of it as Martyn draws a careful hand across the front of his chest, fingers tapping out a rhythm against his ribs.

That rhythm halts, interrupted mid-beat, as Martyn discovers the first protruding shard of bone.

Scott feels the moment he stills against him, all of his loose contentment evaporating as he draws a finger over the exposed bone once more, then again. Scott shudders at the sensation, the sharp drag of skin and nail over the bone travelling right through his body, short frissons of energy bursting out from the site of contact.

“I…what-?”

“You're telling me you’ve never touched a bone before?” Scott asks. “Come on, don't tell me that scares you.”

“It doesn’t,” Martyn insists, loud where he had been quiet before. Both of them wince at the volume and Scott barely represses the urge to glance over his shoulder, check that his teammates sleep on peacefully. If he had woken them, he would most certainly know it. “It’s just…does it hurt? I don't want it to hurt.”

“I don't think you could hurt me if you tried.” He says. Promises, maybe. It feels like the truth to him. Everything feels syrupy and slow, filtered through a haze of amber and gold as he stares at Martyn and Martyn stares back at him, seeking the truth in his honeyed eyes. He smiles as Martyn's face clears, a realisation clicking together in his mind.

“Is…no, nevermind.” Martyn allows himself to trail off, turning his face away.

“Tell me anyway?” he asks. Turns Martyn's face back towards his own with a gentle touch. Martyn doesn’t even feign resistance, all too willing to follow after him. Scott guides his face back towards his own with two fingers pressed to his jaw; Martyn follows behind, blind in his faith and eager to please as a loyal hound might be.

“Is your heart…exposed too?” Martyn asks. His words halting and steeped in hesitance. He refuses to meet Scott's eyes, perhaps ashamed to look at him after asking such a question. Scott does not mind.

“Mm. Why don't you find out?” he invites.

Martyn hesitates for a moment, then two, before he pushes his hand a little further, brushes over more and more of the rib bone, tracing along the curve of it with a reverence that should be reserved for something holy. Scott shivers under the careful attention, averting his eyes when he feels Martyn look upwards from where he's bowed himself over Scott.

The sun reaches higher into the sky, and yet the server is quiet. Scott cannot help but be thankful for this, unwilling for any of his friends to come across the pair of them like this. He cannot help but feel as though he is being laid bare beneath Martyn, even though his shirt hasn’t even come off and Martyn remains similarly clothed.

He swallows as Martyn's finger reaches the end of the bone, circling the point of it curiously for a moment. He feels an inhale catch in his throat, bubbling there as he tips his head back, facing towards the sky. He cannot bear to look at Martyn a moment longer, cannot bear to observe the source of the warmth that presses against his bones with such delicacy, as though they might snap beneath hands, as though Scott is made of delicately woven glass.

He is made of stronger, sterner stuff than that. Only, in this moment, he feels as though he is being unwound, spooled across the ground. No longer a single cohesive being but several parts that have lost communication with each other, sending sensations to his brain that only serve to muddle it further.

Martyn's hand dips into the cavity of his chest, feeling out the edges of it with his fingers, teasing at the skin there with a soft brush of his fingers before moving on.

“You know,” Martyn breathes, a laugh on his tongue, “I didn’t actually believe you.”

“And how are you feeling now?” Scott rolls his head to one side, peeking at Martyn from beneath one eyelid. Martyn finds his eyes anyway, seeking him out easily, as though he’s always aware of when Scott's eyes rest upon him. He can feel the heat in his face, can see it reflected back at him from Martyn.

“Curious.”

Martyn leans up, towards his face once more. The hand inside his chest is still, simply resting there. He presses a kiss to Scott's neck, whisper-soft, then another to the edge of his jaw. He cannot help the way he tilts his head backwards, tipping his chin back to expose more of his neck.

Another gasp shudders its way out of his chest when something brushes against the edge of his heart. He feels the way his heart spasms at the sudden contact, seizing in his chest at the new sensation. He feels the way it bubbles in his chest, expands in his throat until he can scarcely breathe.

He feels Martyn's eyes on him, can feel the way he's waiting for Scott's reaction until he makes another move.

“Are you going to leave me hanging?” He asks. Chokes out, really. Martyn's kind enough not to mention it.

“Just want to make sure your heart isn’t about to give out on us.” Martyn chuckles. “Might be a little awkward to explain to your teammates.”

“I’d leave that part to you.” Scott says. “Please, continue.”

“Only if you're certain, Martyn starts.

“I am.” He pulls Martyn closer, drags him up so he's close enough to kiss back into breathlessness. He shouldn’t be the only one that feels as though his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and Martyn's slow, careful explorations have left him feeling as though his nerves have been set alight. “Come now, don't you want to feel how my heart beats for you?”

That seems to do it. Scott's not quite sure what exactly it was; maybe the wording, or maybe the way he said it. Or maybe it was the small tug of Martyn's hair that spurred him into motion once more, resettled his confidence and allowed him to push through his uncertainty.

All he knows is that in the next moment Martyn's hand surrounds his heart entirely and he feels as though his world has whited out, leaving nothing but the sensation of Martyn's hand and the thumping of his heart behind.

It feels as though his entire being is cradled within the palm of a single hand; like his whole world has shrunk down to just those sensations, that warmth that coats his entire being. It is like being wrapped in a warm blanket, or the feeling of a warm drink travelling down your throat on the coldest day of the year.

He must gasp, or make some kind of sound, because the sensation is retreating just as quickly as it came, leaving him disoriented and near-crying with the loss.

He reaches out with an empty hand, grasping onto the first thing he comes into contact with. It is warm and solid beneath his hand and he curls himself towards it, seeking more of that warmth from before, missing how it had surrounded his entire soul so carefully.

The morning sun does little to battle the chill that settles over him, and he shakes even as a hand smooths over his spine, down his back. It leaves a trail of heat in its wake, but it is still not the same as before, not the same as that all-consuming warmth that he felt for a few moments and perhaps never again.

“Scott?”

He hums in response, feeling too tired to even open his eyes. The exhaustion from the past few days catching up with him, no doubt.

“Geez, man. You can't do that to a guy.”

“Don't call me man,” he mutters into a faceful of fabric. Martyn's shoulder, he's pretty sure now that some of his senses are returning. “You just had my heart in your hand.”

“I, yeah, all right, whatever.” He feels Martyn press his forehead against the top of his head. Feels the sigh he releases into Scott's hair. “That was weird, right? Not just for you but for me as well – I thought you were dying honestly, the sound you made was like a wounded animal.”

Scott snorts. “If this is your idea of being comforting, or even nice, you're missing the mark by a few miles.”

“I'm being worried.” Martyn retorts. “I thought I’d killed you just because I wanted to satisfy my curiosity.”

“Mm, quite the opposite, actually.” He can't think of a moment where he was more content than that one, with a hand around his heart, cradling him in warmth and safety and comfort. He doubts anything could recreate such a sensation, and he has no idea how to put it into words. “It made…hm. It was like being wrapped in the warmest blanket, ugh, no, that’s not right. It was…comforting? Something nice, or safe. Like the idea of comfort and safety bundled into one and then turned into a sensation.”

“Uh-huh.” Martyn sounds distracted, even as he nods against Scott's head. “Um, sorry to burst this little bubble you're in right now, but Cleo’s stood in your doorway glaring at us.”

“I can assure you, she’s only glaring at you.”

“I- ugh, you're insufferable, you know that, right?”

“So you keep telling me,” he uncurls one arm from where it’s wrapped around Martyn (when had that happened? Matter of fact, when had he ended up being cradled against Martyn's chest? Or in his lap?) and waves dismissively in the direction that he hopes Cleo is in. “And yet you continue to crawl back to me each and every time, grovelling at my feet.”

“I haven’t done that since the island!” Martyn yelps, far too loud that close to his ears. Scott still grins at the protest, mind full of the moments when Martyn had pulled himself around the pointless door and begged for sanctuary and allyship. “And I barely grovelled, I only called it that because you were my last hope for a teammate – I’d tried to kill everyone else at that point.”

“You really know how to make a man feel special.”

Martyn isn’t give another chance to defend himself as Cleo speaks up. “You boys all right up there?”

“Peachy.” Martyn calls back. “You can leave us be.”

“So the sound of a wounded, dying animal was someone else?”

Scott stiffens, and he feels Martyn lock up too. No response is forthcoming from either of them, but Scott can feel the way Cleo is staring at his back – she has a way of making her presence known, mainly so she can make fun of him when everyone else turns away. Here, though, it’s worry. Their relationship to Ren and Martyn hasn’t been properly defined, and none of them know where they stand.

For all Cleo knows, Scott could be slowly dying and unable to get a word out. Thankfully, he is not, so he manages to defend Martyn from Cleo’s quickly approaching wrath.

“I'm fine, we were just trying something out.”

“Ugh,” Cleo says. Then, “On the wall, really? Anyone could’ve walked past and seen you two…trying something out.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he tries.

“I don't really care. Or want to know.” Cleo interrupts him. “Go to bed, you're too tired to be fooling around on top of a wall, and if you fall off it and die I'm just going to laugh at you.”

Scott pauses.

“Martyn can come too,” Cleo offers, though the distaste in her voice is clear. “As long as it’s for sleeping and no more experimenting.”

“Well, who can turn down at offer like that!” Martyn goes to stand, only to realise that Scott isn’t going to make a move anytime soon. “Up and attem! C’mon, we've got a grand total of, ehh, ten steps? Maybe twelve? And then you can sleep in an actual bed, all nice and cosied up with me.”

Scott's pretty sure he hears Cleo gag, and that just about seals it for him. Anything to make his friends suffer.

[boundbyeclipse]

“does it make you nervous when i stare” WITH KIRK LORD PLEASE

hungry eyes

genre : smut

word count : 1982

tags : friend!kirk, female!reader, some swearing, rough!kirk, fingering, choking, cum swallowing, public sex, unprotected sex

from the prompt list : 1. “does it make you nervous when i stare?”

a/n : almost ended up with 2k words with this one (and that's crazy). so far this is the longest metallica fic i have written, and i am so happy that i could pull off a longer one! happy reading, i hope that it's good! x

You have had a massive crush on your close friend Kirk for quite some time now. Ever since you graduated school, you both signed up for guitar classes and attended them together. Four days a week, he would knock on your door and wait outside before catching a bus for a ride to the studio. Four days a week, Kirk would walk you home and make sure you were safe and sound, even if it was still light outside. This choice not only made you two grow closer, but also sparked something more. But neither of you were able to understand and grasp onto the way you felt, having all the attention on practicing and classes was like a fence blocking it. Yet, here and there, from time to time, you would find yourself thinking about him which was unusual, because he was your friend. The last time you liked someone this much was three years ago and you were not sure if you could accept it or if the better option would be to just hide it until it goes away. The last thing you wanted was to ruin the friendship. 

And so did he. 

It was a gloomy Wednesday afternoon, and you were in the mood to read something cool for a few hours. So you gave Kirk a call asking if he wanted to join you at the library, which he said yes to without much thinking. And here you were, going through the shelves and  looking for the perfect books to try out. 

Once chosen, you found a table and sat across from each other, beginning to read.

You sighed in the midst of reading as the story was not progressing too well, catching Kirk’s attention immediately. He paused and looked at you with a small frown in between his dark eyebrows.

“Is the book not good?”

The curly locks falling in his face made him look so adorable that you quickly realized you haven’t said anything yet, you’ve just been looking at him.

“You okay?” he snorted lightly, a worried look on his face.

“Uh- Yeah,” you laughed it off awkwardly, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear. You were never this awkward around him, but in this moment, something about him having his eyes on you set your body on fire. 

“It’s just the plot,” you crossed your legs, one accidentally touching the side of Kirk’s calf, “oh, sorry” and you moved your chair a bit back to not hit him again. Why in the world were you so clumsy today? The moment where your hair got caught on his necklace after hugging when you met up was the start of it all. Can this just stop happening? 

“You’re good, don’t need to worry” he smiled without showing his crooked teeth. He found it cute how you kept having little accidents like these, it also reminded him of that time when you accidentally knocked a cup over and it spilled all over the floor. Or when you were making hot dogs and spilled the ketchup on yourself in some way. It never failed to make him laugh and adore you. Especially when you were so quick to get embarrassed and blush along with it. 

A few minutes later, Kirk found himself looking up at you again, but this time, he couldn’t get his eyes off of you. Every little detail about you he just loved. From your beautiful hair, long curvy eyelashes, to the shape of your nose, and the way you had your lips slightly pursed while your head rested in your palm. And he felt intrigued. He soon realized that he was beginning to wonder how you would taste like - Kirk thought about kissing your lips. But when his eyes landed on your exposed chest and neck, the lust took over him and his mind reminded him of what you did earlier with your feet. Even if it was unintentional. Kirk licked his lips, bucking his hips up as he leaned back in his seat, dragging the book closer and placing it against the edge of the table. You didn’t think much of it, you just thought he’d changed the way he was sitting. When in reality, Kirk was now using the book to make it look like he was still reading it. 

And it didn’t take too long for you to sense the piercing gaze. You looked up to find your friend staring, lips slightly parted, those chocolate irises sending your heart straight down to your toes. 

It left you shy and you looked back at the book quicker than the lightning, realizing how nervous he just made you feel. Clearing your throat, you attempted to continue reading, but failed to concentrate because of a pair of doe eyes you had on you. The way it made you feel was visible to him. Clear as a day. 

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” Kirk broke the silence. 

For a moment, you hesitated to speak or look at him due to the amount of frustration.

“It… it does, but…”

“But what, hm?” 

“We’re out in public, you know? You… You look a bit scary” you tried to act innocent, but he just wasn’t going to buy it. A person who’s scared wouldn’t really blush, don’t you think? 

Shit.

Kirk smirked as he closed the book and grabbed yours too, standing up as he pushed the chair under the table. 

You have never seen him act this way. It was different.

But oh, did he look hot.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-yelled as you caught up to him as he put the books back in their places. He towered over you, eyes dark and a smile still plastered on his face, making you feel even more fired up. Kirk knew that at this moment, you wanted him as much as he wanted you.Though, you tried to mask it by acting. But at this point you were simply lying to yourself. 

He replied, voice husky and lower than his usual.

“I’m doing what’s necessary, doll” 

Doll?

You felt as if your soul had just left your body. Kirk had such a strong effect over you and it wasn’t something you ever thought was possible. He’s got you under his thumb now.

Saying nothing else you followed him outside, looking like a lost puppy next to a stranger. Kirk stopped  in some dark alleyway, which kind of scared you. What the hell was he up to? 

“I know you like challenges, and adrenaline, that’s why I decided this was the place” 

“Place f-for what?” you lowkey panicked, looking around. No people were in sight.

Kirk took a step closer, your back hitting the cold wall as you looked up at the boy. It wasn’t pitch black, it was dark, but the moon shining down on you was enough of a source for some dim light.

“For this” 

Cupping your face with both of his large hands, he pulled you into a warm deep kiss that sent you over the edge, butterflies raging in your stomach. Maybe he was a freak for dragging you out to such a place, but you kind of enjoyed it. The weather was a bit cold, but you weren’t too worried because kissing on its own was a way to stay warm.

Your fingers got lost in his brown curls as you tugged on them every now and then, him biting your lower lip in return, his hands all over you. 

“Kirk” you took a breath as you pulled away. 

“Yeah? Am I going too far?”

You shook your head.

 “No, no, you’re not. I… I want you” you confessed, throwing your leg around his waist as you searched for more friction. 

“Fuck, I never knew I’d hear that” he groaned, grabbing the back of your thigh and squeezing it hard, pulling your skirt up and ghosting his fingers over your heated core. But he was a gentleman and wasn’t going to open the door before knocking first. 

“Can I?” 

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want” 

The way you whimpered once he ripped your tights at the crotch area made him moan, his voice sounding so heavenly to your ears - like a melody. He found his way to your clothed cunt, slipping under the fabric of your lace underwear, running his middle and ring finger up and down your folds, your wetness coating them and his palm. You writhed under his touch when he began to rub circles on your sweet spot, causing you to kiss him to cover up a loud moan. This made it even harder for him to keep his rock hard length in his tight jeans. Kirk really wanted and needed to get rid of the uncomfortable pressure. 

But he just had to stretch you out with his fingers first. 

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, feeling how tight you were, “you’re so freaking hot” 

Your eyes rolled back as the pads of his fingers hit the right place, picking up the pace as he left some wet kisses on your neck.

A whine left your lips.

“Kirk, please, I want more” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes”

He removed his fingers from you and unzipped his jeans, finally setting his length free that was coated in precum, ready to fulfill your desires. 

You did not expect it, but Kirk lifted you against the alleyway wall and slipped his member into you slowly, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your legs were tightly wrapped around his waist as you had your arms around his neck, one hand lost in his bouncy hair, while the other had a grip on his shoulder. His length was the perfect size for you, curved just right, it hugged your walls and hit the most sensitive spot like no other, causing you to lose yourself completely. It was addicting, and never have you ever thought that this would actually happen, thinking you’ll never be able to even admit your feelings for him. 

But here you were, all fucked out at his mercy, bodies colliding as Kirk thrusted faster and faster with each minute. His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, which gave you so much satisfaction, you swore you saw stars. There was no way you were going to last any longer with the way he was pounding into you, and he could tell from the way you started to loosen up and how your head was thrown back. You were so under his control. 

“Are you cumming, doll?” 

Yes, you were, but couldn’t get words to come out of your mouth.

“Are you?” he asked again, his grip around your throat even tighter as he slammed his hips into you harshly. The way your body shook was the hottest thing that he has ever witnessed in his life, it never came to his mind that he’s ever going to see you like that.

“I am- Fuck” you squealed into your own palm as you came hard, shaking uncontrollably in his arms as he continued to move.

Seconds later, you were on your knees, bobbing your head to help him reach his own high. Kirk held you by the back of your head to guide you, his chest heaving as he was about to finish. 

The groan that left his lips was so hot that you wanted to hear it more than just once. How Kirk sounded could probably make you cum anytime, any place, just from the way he moaned once he was done. And being the good girl that you are, you swallowed everything that he spurted inside your mouth. 

After a long way home, you asked him to stay over, wanting to spend some time with him and have him around. That night, you both ended up finally confessing your feelings that you’ve had for so long.

[edwinspaynes]

Why don't you like Cryland? I'm p neutral to them but think they have a couple good scenes

Thanks for the ask! It's rare for me to hate a ship while loving both characters in the ship. Usually I hate ships when I think one doesn't deserve the other or when I hate both characters.

I ADORE both Charles and Crystal. So this is new!

Disclaimer: If you ship Cryland, you may want to skip this post. But if you to read it, I do not have any beef with you. Ship and let ship <3

So, first, they have absolutely no romantic chemistry whatsoever. Like what are they even doing. The chemistry meter is just at 0.

But I think it goes a step further than that for me. I understand that Cryland is almost certainly bi4bi, but the ship reads as very... comphet to me. Not for the bi characters were made straight, but it feels like the show itself felt like it needed to have a compulsory M/F ship so they were inserted. The lack of chemistry especially makes me feel like the writers were like "oh, we should have the girl and a boy have a mid romance so there's something for the straights." It especially bothers me in a show that otherwise does NO pandering to the straight gaze whatsoever, and I find it confusing. Maybe it was an attempt to evade the Homophobic Canceling Chopping Block, but a) Edwin is so gay that a random forced M/F ship wasn't going to make a difference, and b) look how that worked out for them.

Finally, and I think this is probably the real nail in the coffin for me, is that I REALLY WANT TO SEE THEIR PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP. Like, they have a ton in common! They're both mixed kids who dealt with abusive upbringings, and they're both almost certainly bi and seem to be kind of in denial of that fact. They have compatible senses of humor, and Charles welcomed and supported Crystal when she came to the agency. WHY DID YOU WASTE THIS POTENTIALLY BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP ON A FORCED RELATIONSHIP? I want to see them being besties! Shooting the shit! Not flirting in a really silly, forced way!

Last, my petty greivance: "I will always hit a demon with a cricket bat for you" is a great quote. I wish it could have been Charles to Edwin.

[oglaswellswife]

bruce and clark have been … well, bruce and clark for 3 years. they’d known each other for 10.

they’ve been up and down more than a yo-yo but they’re more up than down these days, things are good. they manage to work around their schedules, both in capes and out of them.

the poetry thing started 2 years in, it began with a shakespeare sonnet here and there, then it evolved into bruce’s original words, and they only got better with time. they never spoke about it, or bruce never brought it up so clark never did either.

they were having dinner together, on the one night a year both of them can get completely free. at first, these nights were spent in fancy restaurants where they don’t even print the price on the menus, incredibly romantic. or at least bruce thought it was romantic, clark didn’t agree. so now they spent these nights having an intimate, candlelit dinner at the manor. alfred cooked for them, before he made himself scarce so they could be alone.

the conversation was easy, it always is with the worlds finest, but this was different. that difference came from the folded piece of paper burning a hole in the pocket of bruce wayne. former playboy.

just as the wine was refreshed, bruce reached a hand in his pocket and slid the paper over to a now, slightly confused reporter.

“open it” just 2 words, but they were the most important words bruce has ever spoken.

with hesitant fingers and furrowed brows, clark does what he’s told. only to find a ring between those beautiful words bruce can only write, never speak. and when clark, superman, award winning reporter, looks back at the man he fell so hard for all those years ago, he’s down on one knee.

and the word, their world, their little bubble of a world they made for themselves in that dining room, was perfect.

‘In constellations bright, our laughter shines,

Like stars that weave through midnight’s velvet cloak,

With bonds as strong as ancient, timeless lines,

Our spirits dance, a cosmic, sacred joke.

Through nebulae of dreams, we drift and soar,

With every whispered secret, sparks ignite,

In galaxies of friendship, we explore,

Two comets tracing paths of pure delight.

When shadows fall, and darkness cloaks the sky,

Your light, a supernova, guides my way,

In orbits close, our hearts will never die,

Together, we will brave the night and day.

So here’s to us, two souls, forever spun,

In this vast universe, we are as one.’

‘clark waxes poetic about bruce’ ‘clark could probably write essays about bruce’s eyes alone’

well, yes but consider this:

bruce is a man of few words. he thinks saying ‘hm’ is a full sentence. but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to have a way with words so he can sweet talk his superman.

it starts off as leaving sonnets in clark’s pockets, once a week at most. he won’t talk about it if clark brings it up, so clark never does.

but it only evolves from there. because the monster has been set free from deep in bruce’s chest: he’s obsessed with his pet alien, that’s HIS clark and he deserves to have every nice word said about him.

he walks around his gothic mansion, wearing his rich widow robe waiting for clark like a war wife waiting for her husband to return from combat.

this is a long winded way of me saying: bruce writes poetry about clark and its sickeningly beautiful. and he continues to leave these poems in clark’s pockets in place of the sonnets.

and one day, bruce slides a folded piece of paper across the dinner table, and when clark unfolds it, not only is there a beautiful new poem, but a ring too.

[endlessthoughtsofafangirl]

从此你我形同陌路。

[cheekblush]

took myself on a little shopping trip yesterday in the city where i used to study in hopes of lifting my spirits but by the end of the day i felt so disheartened. wandering the same streets 10 years later and not much has changed. i’m still the same lonely unlovable girl.

[wings-of-flying]

whatever the plot of the minecraft movie is, i bet i could come up with something a hundred times better

[monstermoviedean]

citadel dlc is perfect and wonderful and i wouldn't trade it for anything. and it also makes me fume a little bit because it feels like tangible proof that the people who worked on the game knew this is what players would enjoy! they knew this is what people wanted! and it feels like we could have had it all! it didn't have to be like this!

[totheidiot]

i hate that the solar eclipse just now serves as a reminder that nobody loves me.

[kindlecorner]

god, seeing the gravity falls alive and well from the book is crazy... that show came out 10 years ago, and it's just wild to me how long fandom lasts...

I mean, I knew people were active, obviously, fandom never truly dies, but it just makes me so happy to see people engaging with fandoms long after the media has concluded or released. it's such a unique culture and connection to media and I just. all things said in done, I love the way people collectively love a thing and spend time engaging with each other based on the pretense of loving said thing.