#which may be what I’m doing here in the tags

[speed-world]

Hello!! If it's not too much to ask, can you write a cookie run kingdom au where y/n is a traveler? I just think that's the most logical way to somehow get them involved into stories and meet different cookies altogether. Maybe a few scenarios in which involve their encounters with the ancients before the main plot of crk?

A cookie stood with his sheep, observing the lands before him in silence as the winds howled and blew beside him. He was making his last few preparations before his journey, but as he turned around, he saw an unfamiliar face that appeared to be in awe of the lands much like he was…

“Oh, pardon me, but I’ve never seen a cookie like you before. You look so incredibly well and unbothered, may I ask if you have a secret to keeping your dough so healthy?”

“Oh, me? Hehe, I don’t think I have any ‘secret’ to my healthy or anything like that. I’m simply a traveler wandering Earthbread.”

“Really? So am I! I’ll be taking a pilgrimage to the Sugar-Free Road, and complete its 12 trials. What about you, where are you headed?”

“Wherever the earth and winds take me, I suppose. I don’t have a destination in mind, per se, but I’m so interested in exploring the marvelous depths across every corner of Earthbread! But, if you don’t mind me asking, what makes you want to venture to the Sugar-Free Road alone? Surely those trials can’t be the only reason.”

“You sound like you’ve been there before, is there something I should be aware of before I go?”

“Yeah, maybe don’t go by yourself. It’s a treacherous path that’ll leave you wishing you never went. I myself turned back when I was there because of how worn out I was. I would want to go back sometime, especially since I feel more accustomed to traveling to do so, but doing so alone is not something I’m doing again.”

“I see…well to answer your question, I strive to find the truth as to why cookies - those crumbling, incomplete, and not-so-sweet - all must suffer so. I wish for all beings of dough to be happy, and that is I will accept those trials. Hopefully I’ll find the answers I’m looking for at the end of the path.”

“That’s…that’s actually really nice! I respect that a lot, and I kinda feel the same way; wanting everyone to not suffer. But you won’t do well by yourself, would you mind if I tag along?”

“Really? Are you sure my goals won’t get in the way of yours?”

“Nah, of course not! You get to complete the trials and, hopefully, find your answers, while I get to see everything of the Sugar-Free Road and document it! Plus, I get to make a new friend too!”

“New friend..? Ahaha, I’m honored to call you friend too! My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie, and you are?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure to meet ya Pure Vanilla Cookie!”

“Likewise, Y/N Cookie. I’m glad we’ll take this journey together!”

————————————————————————

The screeching roar of a dragon fills the air as it gradually got more distant. The dragon’s pursuer was aggravated, but still determined…

“Huff…huff…darn that dragon getting away, again!! I think I’m starting to loose count, is this the 80th time? No, it can’t have been that much…..argghh—! No matter, I’ll keep hunting it down and—!”

The bushes ahead of Hollyberry Cookie rustle as an astonished cookie stepped out, and looked to the sky where the dragon flew off. They were completely in awe and wanted to get a better look at the majestic creature.

“Woah!! Was that a dragon just now? I’ve seen glimpses of them on my travels, but that one was so close!! This could be a chance to really meet a dragon, maybe even feel its scales!! Hahaha, I gotta go now and—“

“Hey, hold it right there!”

“Huh? Oh, hey there! Are you after the dragon too?”

“That’s one way to put it; I’m hunting that dragon. I need to defeat it for the trouble its caused the Hollyberry Kingdom!”

“Oh my, I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s quite alright, that dragon won’t escape me so easily! But, what brings you out here? And why do you want to see that dragon?”

“Ah, well I’m a traveler, you see? I want to explore every neat corner of Earthbread and all the specialties in between!”

“Really now? Interesting, it’s been awhile since I’ve met such an adventurous cookie like myself! I’m Hollyberry Cookie, pleased to meet you friend!”

“Y/N Cookie, the pleasure is all mine Hollyberry Cookie!”

“Well Y/N Cookie, what do you say we go hunting this dragon together? It’s always more fun to travel with a partner, and I’ll promise you to see every bit of the dragon up close!”

“For real?! Awesome!! Ohohoho, this is gonna be fun, I can’t wait to go!”

“Why don’t you tell me about your travels on the way? I’ll, of course, share you many of my own! I’ll even treat you to the finest berry juice my kingdom has to offer when it’s over!”

“Why thank you! I’ve never had berry juice from the Hollyberry Kingdom before, I can’t wait!!”

“It will be the finest you’ve ever had, you wouldn’t want any other! This is already becoming a fine adventure, hahaha!!”

————————————————————————

Black lightning and dark clouds...What's next, a blizzard that freezes your very breath? The scale of the anomalies is growing. The Cookies in the Frozen Snowfield are perishing one by one. While it seems logical for any cookie to avoid venturing out to such an extreme treacherous environment, two cookies were individually hiking up anyways. Although for their own reasons, their ambitions may align with one another’s….

“Hmm? Oh hey there, I wasn’t expecting any company here!”

“Neither was I…are you a cookie from one of villages affected by the blizzards?”

“Me? Oh no, I’m just a traveler passing by to witness something spectacular!! Here, listen closely—“

“Grrrrrr…..”

“Hhrrrrrraaaaaahh…..”

“The growls of not one, but two dragons-in one place!! I wonder what it is here that could’ve brought them here; ooohh I’ve got to see them up close!”

“You’re here for…sightseeing dragons? How strange.”

“You sound disappointed, is everything alright bud?”

“No. I am here to know more of the weather anomalies occurring through this continent. This harsh weather has caused cookies to suffer and crumble, and I refuse to let it endure another minute.”

“Oh my, I had no idea that was happening. I’m so sorry…”

“Pick your head up, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Ah, r-right. *ahem*…let me help you.”

“What? No, I’m afraid I can’t. These cookies have suffered for too long, and I can’t risk another getting in the way and—“

“I promise I won’t get in your way. I’ll help aid those cookies with you; I have plenty of supplies to offer some kind of help, be it food or water or anything in between.”

“Hmm…very well then. I believe our interests might be more in common than I realize. Let’s not waste any more time and be on our way.”

“Of course! I’m Y/N Cookie, by the way, pleasure to meet you sir.”

“Dark Cacao Cookie, don’t mention it. Let us do our absolute best for the cookies!”

————————————————————————

Under the intense, near-intolerable heat of the desert sun, two cookies traverse the sands bearing wide smiles of determination. Both hold their own greedy ambitions, yet aren’t driven apart by each other’s desires.

“Hah, you know, I’m still amazed as to why you’re traveling with me to the old ruins. I was wandering the desert to find this marvelous treasure, but you just want to look at them, document them, and that’s it! Why go through such risks if all you want to do is go sight seeing?”

“Hehe, well I guess you could say that’s the treasure I’m hunting for. To see all the wonders of Earthbread, its beauties in its dangers, the uniqueness of every continent, I want to capture all of it and learn everything about it! Plus, it’s super fun to meet all kinds of desserts along the way, especially one as dynamic as you!”

“So interesting, you almost make me want to share the treasure I find with you; almost, of course.”

“I don’t blame you, heh. You wandered all this way for it, it’s only fair that it all belongs to you.”

“Right? I would’ve heard if someone on Earthbread had laid their hands on it first. But then again…I want to show my gratitude for your help. This journey would’ve been boring and perhaps fruitless if not for you; what is your name?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure!”

“Y/N Cookie, I am Golden Cheese Cookie. I shall never forget all you’ve done for me! Your greed for the world is something to admire for eons; nearly as great as my greed for my treasure. You and I together shall be legendary!”

————————————————————————

Somewhere, in a secluded area relatively distant from the nearest cookie civilization, a lone cookie was weeping as she was suffering from a nightmare. A passerby cookie heard her cries, and wanted to know what troubled her so…

“E-Excuse me, hello? Are you okay ma’am?”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I… Oh…it was that same dream again. I’m sorry, I didn’t know another cookie was here…”

“No no, it’s alright, you didn’t bother me. I was just traveling by, venturing out to find some incredible things about Earthbread!”

“You were…traveling? Just freely and…eagerly going about across Earthbread alone? …..why?”

“Ehehe, I suppose why not? There’s so many incredible marvels about this world that I wanna see and experience for myself! There’s just so many things and secrets that I want to know about, how could I not be eager to see it all, ahaha!”

“….s-so carefree and curious…they’re just—“

“Hmm, you say something?”

“N-no, I was just muttering to myself…”

“….Hey, you hungry?”

“What? How’d you…—“

“You have crumbs falling from your hands, how long have you been without something to eat?”

“I…I do not know. I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve eaten something. Maybe I’m getting too lost in my thoughts…”

You pulled out a lot of food from your bags and laid it out in front of the cookie.

“T-that’s so much food! Shouldn’t you keep some for yourself if you’re traveling?”

“I got plenty more, don’t you worry. But if you were here resting from traveling, then it looks like you weren’t fully prepared. Is there any reason why you’re traveling out here?”

“Yes…I want to know the truth.”

“….the truth about, what?”

“Why were we, the cookies, created? Why were we brought into this world? Why were we created so small and fragile? If only all cookies were born strong, unbreakable. If only then…I…”

“Shhh, calm down, alright? Take a break for now, eat up. You can tell me more when we’re back out on the road.”

“I-we?! What do you mean, ‘we?’ I’d get in your way with whatever it is you’re after.”

“I’m not after anything in particular, remember? I wanna traverse and see all of Earthbread, and from the sounds of what answers you’re after, it seems like we may be going down similar paths.”

“….Perhaps you’re right. Okay then, I’ll go with you, to find the answers I’m seeking. …Who are you, exactly…?”

“I’m Y/N Cookie!”

“I’m White Lily Cookie. I’m…thankful for you, Y/N Cookie. I never thought I’d have anyone to help me with this, I figured I’d just burden someone else with my struggles…”

“Don’t mention it, I’m perfectly fine with it! No one should really be alone for a long journey; especially for the one you want to take. I’m more than happy to go with you, White Lily Cookie.”

“Thank you, Y/N Cookie…I will never forget your kindness.”

[lady-olive-oil]

Prologue: Me & You

Note: I caved in🤣. Here we goo! let know if ya wanna be tagged in anything.

(inspired by the song Me & You By Cassie)

Word count: 1675 (I got a tad bit carried away)

Warnings: None....for now

Charcters

Prologue: Me & You

Rushing past the sea of multicolored scrubs; balloons & flowers for loved one's and the sound of phones going off from patients or guardians, this has been my life since I graduated. There's never a dull moment in the hospital. Some would say it’s tedious, while others would say it’s stressful. Yet there are those who tell us that their copay is too high.

Today was just like any other day except I had a little kid, no older than 12, going in for cast removal. And boy was she happy to see me.

“Nurse Ronnie!” Her voice chirped as she saw me walk in, with her parents in the room. 

“Sophia. I’m glad I was called in to be here with you today.” I gave her a quick hug after greeting her parents first and foremost. The two were antsy the first time we met because their daughter fell off her skateboard and didn't know what to do. Luckily, they weren’t too panicked as some parents would be.

“I am too. I am getting my cast off, and I wanted you to help Dr. Tyler.” She had a bright grin on her face while telling me the big news.

I smiled back and then got prepared for the event. “Well I’m happy to help in any way I can. Ready?”

Cynthia Tyler was the best doctor when it came to children, and a college roommate of mine at Evergreen Southern. Knowing her skill set and drive made the job easier to come in everyday. Plus she’s engaged to one of my brothers, which is an added bonus. 

Sophia nodded eagerly and took a deep breath like we practiced all those times before. She even enjoyed my singing when I would check her vitals, and called me the singing nurse. The nickname stuck with me, and took off at company gatherings for karaoke. 

As I grabbed the instruments I needed, she asked me, “Can you sing with me as you move the tiny saw?”

“Sure can.” A gentle smile was etched on my face, then I began to sing while moving the saw along her right lw. “Brown skinned, girl. Your skin just like pearls.”

With a toothy grin, she joined. “The most beautiful thing in the world. Never trade you for anybody else. Singin’ brown skin girl, your skin just like pearls.”

Moving further down, I continued with the saw to crack the top half open. “The best thing in the world. I never trade you for anybody else, singin’. She said she really grew up poor like me. Don't believe in nothin' but the Almighty. Just a likkle jeans and a pure white tee, She never did forever be nobody wifey, yeah. So while I may not pretty boy, your heart is amiss.”

“Play it like a villain 'cause she caught in a wave. Tonight I am walkin' away 9 to 5 mind, on the grind, yeah, yeah.” She smiled and giggled gently as she felt the cool air hit her leg for first time in a year.

“Tonight I might fall in love, dependin' on how you hold me. I'm glad that I'm calmin' down, can't let no one come control me. Keep dancin' and call it love, she fightin' but fallin' slowly. If ever you are in doubt, remember what mama told me.”

Then we both joined together as I got to the bottom of the cast. “Brown skin girl, ya skin just like pearls. Your back against the world. I never trade you for anybody else, say. Brown skin girl, ya skin just like pearls, The best thing inna di world. I never trade you for anybody else, say.”

“I can finally see my leg!” Sophia had cheered happily as she looked down at it. “Thank you!” She was happier than a Junebug in the summer.

“You’re very welcome my dear. Just make sure to wear your knee pads next time, like your parents tell you to. Ok?” I nodded towards her parents and her father chimed in.

“You hear that ladybug? Make sure you wear all your gear next time, all the time even. We aren’t saying it for our health and safety but yours.” Her mother nodded in agreement.

“Alright, sounds like an even front for all. I’ll let Dr. Tyler asses everything, get you settled on what you need to do and let you head on home.” Discarding my gloves in the waste bin, I headed out the room to see a few folks standing out in the hallway.

“Who was that singing?” One of the nurses, Ciara, asked me.

“Me and my patient, who I helped get her cast off.” I answered with a smile. “She had always asked me to sing whenever she came in.”

“Well keep up the good work then.” She chuckled and went on about her business.

“Oh I plan to.” Sending a wink in her direction, I headed back to my station to gather my stuff for the day. But I still had the song in my head. So knowing me, I kept singing.

“Pose like a trophy when Naomi's walk in. She need an Oscar for that pretty dark skin. Pretty like Lupita when the cameras close in. Drip broke the levee when my Kellys roll in. I think tonight she might braid her braids, Melanin too dark to throw her shade. She minds her business and wines her waist. Gold like 24k, okay.” Singing gently to myself, feeling the soul within the song just made my day better.

That is until I got an update on a patient that we had gotten a few days ago. “Dupree! I got an update on that one patient, I had you help out a bit ago.” Denise had pulled me to the side and typed away on the keyboard.

The files were flooding the screen, popping up left and right, until she found the right one. “Samaritan Hospital, miles away from us. Luckily the small hospital keeps others informed anyway just in case.” She continued. “Mike Simmons, right?”

“Yeah that’s him, from what you told me.” I racked through the notes myself, looking for answers. “Damn it. He got stabbed in prison; taken to Samaritan and passed there.” 

The nerves I had coursing through me were on edge. It’s a shame what happened to him, given the injustice going on. The more I looked at his picture, the more familiar he seemed.

“And this happened weeks ago?” I deeply sighed as I sat down next to her. “Any family listed on his file? Visitation records.” I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me, where else I had seen his face from. Sometimes relatives do look like, depending on which side they’re on.

Denise went typing away like the detective she is at times. “Just one person.” She stated clearly, and kept typing. Before she could start her sentence, I looked up and saw someone talking to one of the doctors that looked all too familiar. 

“Terrance Richmond.” I stated plainly, with a gentle smile on my face. He turned around and flashed his million dollar smile back at me. 

“Veronica Dupree. Long time no see.” His voice sounded like it was coated in honey, and smooth as whiskey. Something that brought back memories, and haunted my dreams.

Denise was still eying her screen. “Yeah, that’s him. How’d you know that?” I nudged her slightly, she looked up and uttered a gentle “Damn, that man is fine.” Luckily only I heard her. Was she lying though?

“Likewise.” I made my way around the counter and stood by him, gesturing to him to follow me to talk. “We’ll talk later Denise.”

“We better!” She shouted towards me with a chuckle.  

“So what brings you to Evergreen Medical?” Asking an obvious question, towards the gentle giant. His tall 6 '3 frame, made my 5' 9 seem shorter than normal.

“I wanted to thank the person who tried to help my cousin. And when the doctors told me it was you, I was thrilled actually.” We sat in the little outdoor corridor that was open in the hospital. I couldn't tell you the last time I had been entranced by his eyes. They just draw anybody in, without remorse to lose focus.

“Especially since it was someone who knows my family.” He started his sentence with a deep baritone breath, then shifted his gaze to mine. “Who I still care about.” 

And there it was, the same old Terry. Lord this man was something else. “I'm glad I could help. So when is the homegoing, if there is one.” I wanted to keep the topic at hand and not shift towards me and our past. 

“Yea there is. My parents, aunt and uncle are handling it. I also wanted to extend an invite to you and yours.” He passed me the obituary with the date set on it, and I graciously accepted.

“I will make sure that we will be there.” With a gentle smile, I looked into his eyes softly. Abort mission, Dupree! I thought to myself. Don’t you dare get lost in his hazel green eyes.

He checked his watch and sighs awkwardly. “Well uh, I gotta get going. Gotta help out with the service and all.” He got up and held his hand out to help me up. Which I took and felt a surge of electricity race through me.

“You still have my number. It never changed when you left.” A sly smirk painted on my face, as I graciously took my hand back. 

He chucked a little himself. “Fair enough. I just may call you later if you don’t mind talking to an old friend.”

“Not at all. I’m free to talk later.” Confirming the unofficial date, knowing damn well I don’t need it.

“Hope to see you around.” He waved softly and made his way back to the entrance of the hospital.

I waved back and headed back inside.“You just might.” I whispered to myself. “You just might.”

[ockissweek]

I'm on PC so it may be different on mobile, but I can't access the main faq :( it just sends me back to the main blog page

hey! it was because the blog settings were suddenly dashboard only. it's fixed now c:

i'm copypasting the FAQ under the readme for anyone on mobile though!

OCkiss FAQ

• What is OCkiss?

It’s a week long event in which artists, writers and other creatives produce content about OCs kissing. 

• Who can participate in OCkiss?

Do you have an OC? Do you want to participate in OCkiss? Congrats, you’re in! Create something and upload it during the event with the tag #ockiss21 

• I don’t have an OC but I want to participate!

Consider making an OC just for the event, or challenge yourself and create one based on a random character generator! It could be a great exercise in creativity!

• My OC doesn’t have a significant other, can I still participate?

Of course! OCkiss is not restricted to romantic kisses - they can be friendly, they can be familiar, they can just be kissing their pet! 

• Can I participate by doing a collab with another creator?

Absolutely.

• Can I use other people’s OCs?

If they have stated that their OCs are up for grabs for this event, of course! If you’re not sure, please, please always ask the OC’s owner first.

• Can I participate with OCxCanon!character content?

Sadly no. This event is to uplift creators of original characters! HOWEVER, you can participate with fandom OCs. If you participate with OCxCanon!character, I will not be promoting your work here. Why? Easy: canon always gets shared more, and the spirit for this event is to share the original content that usually gets less spread about.

• Who runs this blog?

That would be @artofmisi

• If you don’t own OCkiss, why are you organizing it?

I have been organizing this event three years in a row over at my artblog @artofmisi and people kept asking me, and they say three time’s the charm, so I went for it as a way of having things organized in one blog, and so people who want to participate in my version of this event can have an updated and controlled place to stay informed. Also, I just love OCkiss :P

• Has OCkiss been organized by other people?

Absolutely, and I take no credit for their idea nor their work! As far as I’m aware of, @becausedragonage is the first one who did it on this post  in 2016 with #ockiss16, and then @slavetothemocha followed with #ockiss17 the following year on this post. I’m not aware of other people organizing it, but if you do, please let me know and I will add them to this list!

• Is OCkiss exclusive to Tumblr?

You can participate and post on your preferred social media, however, OCkiss will only be sharing entries here on Tumblr. There are two reasons for it: 1) I really want to help reblog culture on this site, and promote creators by sharing their work and 2) I simply don’t have time to check every social network!

• Why is it in February / will it always be in February?

Why: because I want to fill St. Capitalism-dressed-as-Love week with genuine enthusiasm and love towards original characters and their creators. So yes, this version of the event on this blog will always be organized for whatever week Valentine’s falls on that year.

[trammellesstangent]

You ever make posts but then delete them

[heavy-buddy]

cobs is so autistic with lots of internalized ableism coded

[headfullof-ideas]

I’d like to mention that I’m not just expanding on other regions of the world. On characters and their dynamics with one another in this crazy project of a crossover that I’m doing. I’m also expanding on the dragons themselves. Playing around with the fact that they’re like people, and not all people are good. Some people just really, genuinely suck. But the thing this post is about is to showcase all the dragons who I am adding depth and lore to that we didn’t see in the films. Or the games. Because I am bringing in dragons from the games. So to all the School of Dragons players (RIP, that game was my childhood), here are the dragons from the games that I am bringing into this story (that I can immediately think of, especially since there’s a ten photo limit) (pictures supplied by Rise of Berk)

And then dragons that showed up in the films/shows that I’m adding lore to that wasn’t in the films/shows

It’s going to be so much fun (adding this after doing tags HOLY CRAP I FOUDN THE TAG LIMIT)

[edge-oftheworld]

I don’t really talk about it much on here because I’m extremely lucky to be able to understand exactly what’s going on in my body, but it’s scary to live for years as someone who Gets Things Done in a way your peers don’t really understand, be putting effort into so many things you care about, and then suddenly lose the ability to do not only that but also basic tasks overnight after a deadline, and bit by bit after many. it’s scary getting really irritable sometimes to the point of violence, just when you were meant to be celebrating the rewards from your hard work, the only impact of the work you did that you can see is that you overdrafted your ability to do anything. including have a basic conversation without getting grumpy or crying. and your body is going to make you pay it back with interest, you already know that, but you don’t know how to start filling yourself back up. you’ve only ever enjoyed being on the grind, hard at work on exciting things.

I don’t know how many of you have been through the kind of burnout that’s years of needing 12hrs of sleep a night but with terrible insomnia, waking up to what feels like a hangover for weeks on end with little relief then rinse and repeat without having a single drink, feeling too sick to eat and needing to exercise to emotionally regulate but being unable to, anxiety that doesn’t come from worry but you’ll pick that up too at some point, dissociating every time you try to do mentally taxing tasks that you’re PAID for so it takes an hour of grounding yourself just to get five minutes worth of productive concentration, falling asleep the minute you feel a little safe by being in the presence of loved ones. but I suspect I’m not the only one.

I’ve had songs for the energetic and angsty times leading up to this. for the exasperated times and the brain fog and the times where all my limited energy is tied up in feeling things. that I need to, need to acknowledge, but it’s overwhelming and I live in a haze for weeks as a result of. songs telling of the kind of youth I wish I had, even when I was sold something else. songs for the months spent as a teenager trying to be there for my friends, worrying for them, distracting me from worrying for myself, trying to cling on to positivity and hope amongst it when I had to choose to make a discipline of always seeing that. I’ve had songs for healing and when healing is harder than expected and songs that have the right level of musical complexity to capture the layers of everything that’s happening in my head, making it sound good, telling me it’s gonna be okay.

I don’t know how I could ever say thank you for this. but I do know that I see parts of myself in the people behind these songs, of course I do, and I worry for them as a result and ache for them because it’s hard enough to feel this way when no one knows me or feels the need to control me or mould me into what they think I should be. I’d do anything to keep them all healthy and happy and all of their loved ones too and I don’t think it’s strange as a fan to take that seriously. I hope we can understand the need to treat them gently, and to while not questioning their privacy and the fact that they’re never going to tell us everything they go through, listen to our intuition when we catch something we relate to and treat what they’ve shared with us or hinted at with the dignity we would if someone we love told us something vulnerable. be kind in our expectations and be intentional in the fan culture we create because it does make its way back to them.

and the same goes with all of you. we’re bonding over the same things. I know a lot of this fandom is in the stage where interpersonal relationships are hard. we don’t mean to be grumpy of frustrated but we are. and I’m sending love to all of you. we can get through this together. it’s what they’ve always longed for isn’t it?

[musicalmoritz]

I accidentally came across pop psychologists spouting nonsense on TikTok so pls share with me any mental disorder headcanons you have for characters. Could be TBHK or any other fandom, idc I want to hear them (ask, comment, reblog, however you want to share them is fine)

Obviously there are more serious ways to talk about these subjects and that is something I am actually in the process of dedicating my life to but as this is a fan account I figured I’d keep it lighthearted

I will be the first to say that writing Aoi with BPD and Mitsuba with DPD helped me sm with my characterization of them

[voiceshearingyouloud]

Finally properly sobbing after not being able to cry all day is such a great feeling

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[mutalune]

really wish there was a tag that separated “I’m having Big Angry and/or Angsty Opinions about Star Wars” from “I’m goofing off with Star Wars I’m playing in the sandbox none of this is real so yes I will make my blorbo and this random glub shitto go on an adventure that makes no logical sense” posts because there’s too much of the former and not enough of the latter for my current mental state

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Solas

[initial-lime]

I loose my mind every time babygirl

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

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

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

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

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

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

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

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

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

Allison:

bitch 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah… that you knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

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

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me neither.”

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

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

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

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

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

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

(But you aren’t.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck had just happened?

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

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

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

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

Your savior complex strikes again!

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

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

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

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

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

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

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

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

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

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

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

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

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

You could die at peace.

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

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

“Now why would you think that?”

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

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

“You don’t have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg to differ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I give you some space?”

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

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

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

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

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

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

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

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

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful.”

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

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

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

“Get your hands off her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

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

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

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

“I don’t have a phone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

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

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

“Right here? On the counter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“L-logan–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who had given him a damn script for this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

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

[livwritesstuff]

i went on a deep dive of the Steve & Hopper ao3 tag yesterday and and it got me thinking about what would happen if Chief of Police Hopper ran into Steve and Eddie while he was on patrol after pseudo-adopting Steve, and it’s been long enough that Hopper is sort of a safe-person for Steve so Steve goes into full-fledged bitch mode when Hopper tries to pull cop stuff on them, and Eddie (who knew about none of this because Steve is a chronic under-sharer) is so totally baffled.

He’d spent years watching Steve sweet-talk his way out of trouble. Even before they started hooking up it used to drive Eddie goddamn insane, because if (when) Eddie pulled any of this shit Steve gets away with, he’d be totally screwed, but all Steve has to do is flash a sheepish grin and run a hand through his hair once or twice and say, all baleful, “I really didn’t mean any trouble,” and he’s home free.

It has its perks though, or so he's learned during his last few months of hanging around with Steve, so when Steve and Eddie’s make-out session is interrupted by the tell-tale red and blue lights of a cop car pulling up behind where Steve parked the Beemer a few hundred yards down a maintenance road, Eddie’s not all that worried. In fact, he’s got a pretty good amount of faith in Steve’s ability to spin up some story to keep them out of any real trouble, and as Chief Hopper ambles over to them, Eddie prepares himself for a whole show of, “Yes Chief, sorry Chief, it won’t happen again Chief.”

So imagine Eddie's complete and utter surprise when Hopper barks, “Hey, morons! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” and Steve only rolls his eyes and says, “What’s it to you?”

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

“Steve,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He tries to elbow Steve into shutting the hell up, but he misses because Steve has already taken several steps forward to meet Hopper, his face turned up in a kind of defiance Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen on him before.

“What’s it to me?” Hopper repeats, glowering at Steve, “It’s midnight. I’m on patrol. You’ve got one of the most recognizable cars in this entire damn town parked in a restricted-access zone with this idiot–” Hopper gestures at Eddie (Eddie didn’t think the pointing or the idiot were necessary, but clearly, clearly, he’s missing something here), “–who’s been dragged into my station more times than I could count.”

“The town line, Hop, is over there,” Steve says, pointing at an indiscriminate spot over Hop’s shoulder that may or may not be part of the Hawkins town line, “We’re not even in Hawkins anymore. You’re totally out of your jurisdiction.”

“You wanna know something about jurisdiction, smart-ass?” Hopper asks, “If my report says shit happened in my jurisdiction, it happened in my jurisdiction.”

“Wow,” Steve deadpans, “Way to not sound totally corrupt. Nice work, Chief.”

Hopper’s jaw twitches for a second, and he’s clearly debating if he wants to keep arguing with Steve who, to Steve’s credit, looks like he’s got debate in him for days. Ultimately though, Hopper decides against it and stalks back over to his squad car.

“If you’re not home by one there’s gonna be hell to pay. You hear me, Harrington?” Hopper yells, “One AM. Hell to pay.”

“Oh, sure,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Totally hear you. One AM. Loud and clear or whatever.”

Steve flips the cruiser both birds as it peels away, which Hopper only flashes his high beams at a couple times before he’s gone, kicking up a bunch of dirt and mulch and leaves in his wake, and Steve is wearing an exasperated expression as he turns to face Eddie again.

“God, he’s so annoying. Let’s just go to my house.”

Eddie gapes at him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie repeated, gesturing wildly towards where Hopper’s car had just been.

“Wha– you mean with Hop?”

“Uh, yeah?!?”

Steve just brushed him off, “Whatever, just ignore him. He’s basically my dad.”

“What?”

EDIT: read the expanded fic on AO3 :)

[mywritersmind]

TATTOOED ON MY BODY - LN4

summary : Lando Norris doesn’t have many opinions when it comes to tattoos, but as soon as he sees his girl with a very supportive one, he’s all for it.

listen up : based on haley scott’s tattoo in one tree hill😚 suggestive content! lando norris likes ass. i’m a genius for this one. tbh since i don’t write smut, someone should just continue this and tag me.

words : 626

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“My love.” he practically melts into me, his hands instinctively going to my waist as his face gets buried in my chest.

I’m sitting in his driver's room as he leans against me in between my legs. His suit is unzipped and his hair is messy but he’s never looked happier.

He’s sweaty and soaked in champagne but I don’t care. He won. He fucking won the last race, his fourth win, as well as the constructors with his team.

“I’m so proud of you, Lan.” I bring my hand to his chin, tilting his face up to me to kiss him. He’s still smiling when I pull away and the air switches between us. I bite my lip, “I have a surprise for you…”

“Oh?” He rests his hands on either side of me. He hasn’t seen me in a couple of days, which I may or may not have strategically planned.

I nod slowly, pushing him back, “I got you something.”

“Yeah?” He’s smirking now, taking a couple steps back as his eyes rake up and down my body. “What kinda something?”

“Not exactly physical…” His brow raises at this, “But I think you’ll like it.” His head knocks the cabinets, nodding at me to go on.

I take a breath and turn around, maybe dragging it out a bit when I hear his breathing spike. I move my hair over my shoulder, looking back at him just to see his eyes glued on my ass.

I can’t help but smile, teasingly pulling up my shirt that goes past my belt. I know the second he sees it because he makes a sort of strained choking sound.

“So… you like it?” I look over my shoulder, tucking my shirt into my bra and watching his gaze being directed at the small of my back and most importantly, the ink on it.

In a daze, He hooks his fingers on my belt loops, pulling me closer and leaning down, “Do I- Fuck is that even a question?” His fingers drifting over the tattoo sends a shiver up my spine, “I’ve never been more turned on.”

I laugh as he spins me around and kisses me, it's rougher this time, his hands are more grabby and possessive. “I’m glad you like it.”

He kisses me again, “Like in an understatement.” He kisses me again, “I love you.” I giggle as he spins me back around and all but bends me over to get a better look.

“Lando!” His hand is grabbing my ass now.

“Shh, love. Let me enjoy my girlfriend’s ass that’s marked as mine.” He kisses the back of my neck, tugging at my hair as I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning.

“With all the hickies you leave on me, I'm always marked!” I turn around and slip my hands into his hair. I love his curls, even if they’re wet and falling into his face. “This is just more prominent, even if it is a bit hidden.”

His lips are on me once again, but he’s soft now, “I never thought you could get any hotter… Yet here we are.”

I smile, tugging at his shirt and standing on my tippy toes to face him, “I’m a woman of many surprises, Lan.”

He shakes his head, his green eyes so crystal clear while looking at me, “Let's go, I need a shower and a better look at this number on you…” His hair encloses over mine just as his lips meet my cheek.

I know he watches my ass as I leave. It's an even better feeling knowing that he’s staring at the same number his car is branded with.