#which tracks w/all their other shit-moves but still
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Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
Warnings: ( MDNI 18+) neighbor!reader,fem reader, Logan’s kinda rude for a lil’ bit, neighbors to frenemies to lovers? Idk, alcohol consumption (nothing 18+ happens while anyone is intoxicated), swearing, i can’t write Wade’s witty dialogue for shit pls bear w me, implied age gap, unprotected sex (wrap it up I beg of you), poking fun at the Kardashians a little, swearing and I think that’s it, but pls lmk if I missed any!
Summary: You have a little too much to drink one night in Wade's living room, resulting in an indirect confession that Logan absolutely hears through the thin drywall of his bedroom. Wade then ditches your usual weekend plans in an attempt at playing cupid - and it may just be the best favor he's ever done for you.
Word Count: 8K (get comfy bitch)
divider credit here and here
Being Wade Wilson’s best friend and neighbor included two main components:
Watching trash TV and getting drunk every other weekend - usually at the same time - and Wade wasn’t going to let his new roommate's attitude ruin it in the slightest.
“She’s gonna be here any minute and if you don’t pull the stick out of your ass and be nice, I'm going to lock you in your room like a sad, lonely dog.”
Logan only grunted in response, sipping his drink in the doorway and watching him run around the living room to make the place look livable.
He’d only moved in a couple weeks ago and Wade had been trying to introduce you both - inviting you over when he knew Logan had no plans - but every time, he was out the door before you were even opening yours across the hall. He’d try everything he could to avoid meeting new people, fearful that any type of real connection with someone would be ripped out from under him just like it had been many times before.
Wade huffed in satisfaction when he was done moving a few things around, standing in front of Logan with his hands on his hips.
“I mean it, kitty cat. She’s a sweet girl - keep the claws in.”
“Told you to stop callin’ me that.”
“Too bad, so sad, kitty.”
As Logan was considering puncturing three evenly spaced holes in both sides of Wade’s chest, they were both interrupted by a knock on the front door.
You were on the other side, of course, a twelve pack of beer under your arm. You rocked back and forth on your heels while you patiently waited for Wade to let you in. You did kind of hope you’d maybe get to meet his new roommate this time - it was a little odd that he was never there when you were.
He answered the door after a second, placing a hand over his heart dramatically when he saw the beer in your arms.
“For me? Aw, sugar, you shouldn't have,” he sighed as he took the box from your arms, ushering you inside.
“Did I have a choice?” you joked back, kicking off your shoes.
You followed him into the living room only to stop in your tracks.
Logan stood near the couch in his sweatpants, looking like he’d been dragged into the middle of the room to be put on display. He did reluctantly agree to stay for a second and finally let him introduce you so he could sulk back to his bedroom and nurse a bottle of whiskey till he fell asleep.
“Well, there he is,” Wade said in a lackluster tone, “now, he is house trained, but he does bite occasionally - “
“Fuck off.”
His deep voice surprised you a bit, unintentionally raising your eyebrows with your gaze still on him.
“ I'm Logan.”
You nodded politely and introduced yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets nervously. He was tall, definitely a good couple years older than you and incredibly handsome, all of which made your stomach erupt into butterflies.
And Logan did not like the way you were looking at him.
He’d seen it more times than he could count on the faces of every pretty young thing that tried to take him home from the bar, batting their eyelashes at him and laying hands on him like it would be persuasive in any way. It never worked, as his dismissive attitude sent a clear message. He couldn’t be bothered to take any of them up on their offers and wasn’t interested in fulfilling some fantasy they had about being with an older man. He didn’t think much about stuff like that anyway, avoiding any chance of vulnerability and attachment to someone he was sure he’d eventually lose.
And you still had that look on your face.
“Night.”
With that, Logan disappeared down the hallway to his room and shut the door.
“He’s not much of a talker,” Wade assured you, “probably for the best.”
From then on, you’d occasionally see Logan come out of his room while you were over - getting something from the kitchen, doing his laundry, coming and going - and each time you had to feign complete disinterest. Wade had quickly taken notice of how you tried to keep your head down every time Logan entered the room to hide your pink cheeks and - naturally - there was no way for him to be quiet about it.
When Logan came out of the bathroom one time with a towel around his waist and dripping wet hair as you and Wade sat at the kitchen island, your best friend was more than eager to run his mouth.
“Oh, c’mon, don’t do that to her!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards you, “you’re practically dangling meat in front of a starving dog - poor girl.”
You had your face buried in your hands with your elbows on the counter, wishing more than anything that you could sink into the chair and through the floor.
“God, shut up.”
Your voice was muffled by your hands but he still heard you.
“And put a stop to my job as cupid?”
Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning towards his bedroom. He’d seen the way your eyes widened the second he’d opened the door, traveling all the way from his bare shoulders to the trail of hair that dipped under the towel. You’d turned pink almost immediately. It would have been something he’d found cute maybe a couple decades ago, before the very last bit of his naivety had faded away. Now, it was just infuriating to him. He could try to drop every hint on earth that he wasn't interested (which for him, just meant avoiding you completely) and you still looked at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.
This weekend came along like every other, texting Wade back and forth about snack options and finally getting up to shuffle across the hall with a bag of chips.
He answered the door as usual, ushering you in. You plopped yourself down on the couch and kicked your slippers off, clad in sweatpants and a tank top. He sat beside you and you propped your legs up on his lap, snatching the TV remote from the coffee table to flip through channels. You heard what you assumed was Logan’s bedroom door open down the hall, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.
“Peanut! Care to join?” Wade exclaimed as he watched his roommate enter the open kitchen, digging around in the fridge.
You still didn’t tear your gaze from the screen.
“Hell no.”
That wasn’t much of a surprise.
“Your loss!” Wade reached for the pack of beer on the table, offering one that you gladly accepted, “but don’t bother us, keeping up with the kardashians is incredibly important.”
“Uh - huh.”
Logan disappeared again in seconds and Wade shook his head.
You focused back on the TV screen.
“So, how many minutes into the episode do you think one of them is going to start a fight?”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Hours and many beers later, you were on the floor with your knees to your chest between the couch and coffee table as you tried to stifle your giggling. Wade was laid on the couch, no better off than you.
“Hey - hey, I wanna ask you somethin’,” his voice became a little serious, but he still had a shit eating grin on his face, “what are you into Logan for anyway?”
You dreaded the question, groaning and closing your eyes.
“Seriously! I mean, I’ve been here the entire time - “
“Wade.”
He looked at you expectantly, awaiting a response.
You contemplated your answer for a moment, your filter diminishing more and more with every sip of beer, “God, I don’t know, he’s - he’s jus’ big.”
You were snickering behind the beer bottle you drunkenly held in front of your face in an attempt to hide.
“I don’t think he’s that impressive. You know, he’s got small feet - tiny, like a child.”
That had you both doubled over, trying to muffle your laughs with your hands and the throw pillows strewn on the floor.
“Stop, stop - ” you choked out when you finally caught your breath, wacking him on the arm.
“Okay but really, what is it? I know you, you’re not into beefcakes,” he laughed and shook his head.
You sighed, not really thinking for even a second before you started speaking again.
“He’s older and he’s hot -”
“And completely cold and dismissive towards you.”
You rolled your eyes at his interruption but still nodded, “yeah - yes, but that’s not my point.”
Wade took another sip of his beer and motioned for you to continue talking.
“He, uh - ” you tried to bite down a giggle, your face turning pink, “I don’t know, I think he’d be good in bed.”
That made him sit forward on the couch, his mouth open in surprise, “I knew it! I knew you were a horny freak!”
“Am not!” you picked a pillow up from the floor and launched it at his face, “I’m allowed to be, anyway!”
“Whatever,” he caught the pillow in his hands, “I'm on operation ‘Cupid’ and I have never quit a mission, cupcake. So, what about him makes you think that? Is it because he's a hundred and eighty - something years older than you? He’s probably been passed around the block like a wh - ��
“Okay,” you cut him off, cringing at the thought, “ I think I got the picture.”
Your mind began to wander again about Logan and you narrowed your eyes in thought, staring at nothing.
“What’cha thinkin’, honey bun?”
Wade's voice cut through your concentration and you shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face.
“Oh no,” he started, stretching the vowel, “you’re having a sex fantasy right now, I can see it on your face - disgusting. Tell me more.”
“What, you want details?” You laughed, giving up on trying to hide it if Wade could already read you like an open book. You were both terribly honest with each other - almost to a fault.
“Not the full middle-aged-white-women erotica novel version,” he answered, “I can accept cliff notes.”
You thought for a moment, going down the mental list you’d made of all the assumptions you had about the older roommate that you rarely ever saw.
“He’s gotta have a huge dick. Like, massive.”
Wade nearly spit out his beer but nodded for you to continue.
“I’d let him, like - like,” you were giggling between words as you tried to form a sentence, “ fuckin’ rearrange my guts.”
That did make Wade spit his beer, which set off a train of uncontrollable laughter that you both tried to stifle.
Still, throw pillows and hands over your mouths were not as effective as you believed.
Logan’s eyes fluttered open, squinting in the dark. The digital clock on his nightstand read ‘2:24 am’ in red LEDs. He closed his eyes again and tried to drift back to sleep, only to be jolted up by the sound of the two of you laughing obnoxiously from the living room.
“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, getting up to walk towards his door so he could tell you both to keep it quiet. As his hand touched the knob, he halted when he heard your voice.
“He’s probably good at eating pussy. He’d be like an animal - “
Logan was stuck in place, his eyes narrowed. Who the hell were you talking about?
“Can we go back to the rearranging guts thing? ‘Cause I have to tell you, sister - he’s made of metal and he’ll really do it.”
That couldn’t be about him. He refused to believe you two were actually talking about him like that in the next room.
“I’d let him,” he could hear you snickering.
“Is this a daddy issues thing? The ‘I can fix him’ maneuver?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to fix him, I said I wanted to fuck him.”
If this was about some guy, Logan should be relieved; thankful that you’d found a new target of infatuation. He should be relieved, but he was gripping the door knob like he was going to break it off.
Wade’s voice broke through his thoughts, “you’re lucky Logan’s not much into relationships, then.”
So you were talking about him.
Your voice echoed in his head, your words cementing themselves into his brain.
On the living room floor, you were chucking pieces of popcorn into Wade's direction, trying to land one in his open mouth.
“Hey,” he started after catching a piece between his teeth and eating it, “if you do end up in Wolvies bed? Pics or it didn’t happen.”
You gasped and nearly chucked your empty bottle at his head, deciding against it when you remembered Logan was asleep in the other room.
Logan was in the other room.
Just as you were about to panic to Wade about Logan overhearing your foul-mouthed and horny drunk rambling, you both heard the click of his door coming unlocked and the creak of the hinges. He appeared at the doorway in a beater and pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. Truthfully, he looked cute.
“Shut the fuck up, both of you. It’s two in the morning.”
Adorable, even.
“Oopsie! Sorry, Peanut. We had very important things to discuss,” Wade replied.
Without another word, Logan shut his door again and you and Wade sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
“Do you think he heard me?” you whispered, grimacing.
“We’ll find out.”
With that, you both decided to call it a night and you returned to the familiar comfort of your apartment.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The next morning, Wade was up far earlier than his roommate, as usual. He sat on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, turning his head when he heard Logan’s door open.
“Sleeping beauty! So kind of you to bless me with your presence. What’s the occasion?”
“Breakfast.”
“Technically it would be lunch, peanut.”
Logan was facing the pantry in the kitchen and Wade could still feel the anger radiating off him.
Ignoring his seething silence, Wade began to speak again, “you didn’t happen to overhear any conversations last night, did you?”
Logan was facing him again, pouring cereal into a bowl and speaking without looking away from it, “you mean the one where your little friend said she wanted to fuck me? Yeah, I heard enough of it to get the jist.”
Wade had a gleeful look plastered on his face as he turned in his seat, “so you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”
“That wasn’t an offer, and besides,” Logan was shoveling cereal into his mouth, “ ‘m not interested.”
“See, you say that, Peanut, and yet you just have to come out here at least once while she’s over.”
Logan was glaring daggers into his skull.
“I live here.”
The younger of the two clicked his tongue, turning his attention to the TV screen, “All I'm saying is that she’s our neighbor, she's a sweetheart, she is single and has a job and an apartment all to herself, dude. Bone city.”
“Ew.”
“Think about it.” “Don’t need to.”
As Logan scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and put the bowl in the sink, Wade was already typing furiously in his messages to create a plan.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Another week rolled by, meaning it was time to get hammered and make fun of the Kardashians again. You held your breath waiting for Wade to answer the door, anxiously picking at your fingernails.
He opened the door and ushered you in like any other time, except he was dressed to go out instead of the usual PJ attire.
“What, are you leaving me for a hot date?” you teased, dropping the snacks you brought onto the kitchen island.
“Yes!”
You furrowed your eyebrows and frowned, awaiting his explanation.
“I’ve got a date with Vanessa, but - “
Logan emerged from his room, navigating his way to the kitchen as if neither of you were there.
“Peanut! So glad you decided to join us! Hey - “ Wade tapped the kitchen island, motioning for him to come over so he could talk to you both at the same time.
“Okay - I have a date with Vanessa tonight, so I need you,” he motioned between the two of you, “to get along.”
You were about to interrupt, insist that you can just reschedule, but it was as if he’d read your mind.
“You’re already here, cupcake, just stay and chill out. And you - “ he turned completely towards Logan, “you’re going to be nice like I asked you. Do you think you’ll survive?”
Logan was staring at him, unblinking with a scowl on his face.
“You, uh, you don’t have to sit with me,” you mumbled to him, forcing him to finally acknowledge your presence.
He’d half expected it to be your idea as much as it was Wade’s - some kind of ploy to get him alone - but you weren’t jumping at the chance, trying to be touchy-feely with him, begging him to stay.
He almost wished you would.
He cleared his throat and looked back to Wade, “I'm not gonna babysit your friend.”
“Who said I needed a babysitter?” you chimed in.
They both turned to you to watch you slam the top of a beer bottle on the edge of the countertop, sending the metal top flying somewhere into the living room.
“We have a bottle opener in the drawer,” Wade sighed in defeat, ”anyway - you don’t need to babysit her, I'm just saying she doesn’t bite and It would be uncool to leave her all alone.”
“Aren’t you the one leaving?” you asked, taking a sip of your beer.
“Not the point,” he answered, grabbing his jacket from the coat stand as he walked towards the front door, “play nice, don’t eat anything in the fridge with my name on it and there’s condoms in my nightstand!”
He opened and shut the door, leaving the both of you in awkward silence. Logan’s face was actually red, a mix between rage and mild embarrassment.
“He’s a dick,” you muttered, trying to make some kind of small talk, only to be met again with silence. You sighed, going to the couch and picking up the remote. You finally made yourself look Logan in the eyes, your cheeks burning uncontrollably when he never broke his stare.
“Listen - it’s fine, I get it, you’re like…the lone wolf,” you laughed a little to yourself, having to divert your eyes to the fabric of the couch, “I’m not gonna burst into tears if you don’t sit with me.”
He was a little taken back by your bluntness, though it was refreshing. He figured you’d be pink in the face - practically begging him to stay - but you weren’t. You pretended you couldn’t give less of a shit with your eyes now glued to the TV. You were as cool as you could act on the outside, but you nearly lost that cool when he spoke again.
“I can sit for a bit,” he shuffled over to the couch, settling himself down next to you. If you weren’t gonna be all over him like he thought you would, he could withstand a couple episodes of whatever the hell you and Wade had been watching. He didn’t dislike you, really - just terrified of the possibility of intimacy. You were pretty, and from what he’d overheard now and then, you were funny too. He liked the way the smell of your body wash and perfume flooded the apartment whenever you’d stop by and how you’d always bring some leftovers to be sure both of them had eaten - leftovers of which the roommates would always get into a spat over - usually because Logan ate it all before Wade could even see what was in the container.
Unfortunately for Logan, he began to enjoy you being around.
You could feel your stomach tie itself in knots when he sat beside you but nodded in acknowledgment, flipping through TV channels. You settled on the Kardashians again, tossing the remote on the table.
“This is the shit you guys watch, huh?” he teased, grabbing a beer from the pack Wade left behind.
You smiled a little to yourself, noticing how he was slowly getting more comfortable with you, “mhm, top tier - wait till you see one of them talk, it’s like watching an alien.”
You actually pulled a miniscule of a laugh out of him and your heart nearly skipped a beat at the sound.
As the show went on and you both made snarky commentary at just about everything, you felt more and more like you were just hanging out with Wade - comfortable and casual, except for the way your face burned up every time he stretched and his white beater rode up his stomach.
“So,” you began as the episode ended, “thoughts? Opinions?”
He was looking between you and the screen, thinking hard, “I don’t get it.”
You shrugged, “me neither, to be honest, but god is it funny to watch rich people lose their shit sometimes.”
He chuckled again at your response, placing his empty bottle on the table next to yours.
It was silent for a moment, the air tense with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“What do you usually watch on TV?” you asked, intending to flip the channel to whatever he may be interested in - if he had to sit through Keeping Up with The Kardashians, it was only fair.
“Nothin’, really,” he answered, his eyes moving from the screen to rest on you, like a heavy weight on your chest.
“Do you even watch TV?” you asked, the both of you having abandoned the idea of trying to find something else to watch and just letting it play in the background.
“Nah,” he shrugged, his arms crossed against his chest, “ I don’t do much of anything.’
You could tell his answer was earnest and you frowned a bit, swinging your legs up on the couch and turning to face him completely, “nothing? There has to be something.”
He was unsure about how close you were to him now, your knees to your chest as you looked at him expectantly. He thought he’d be met with that look - the one you kept giving him in passing that he hated so much - but your face was neutral, waiting patiently for him to respond. Truthfully, he didn’t hate the look itself - or you, for that matter - but hated how it made him feel.
As if there were some sliver of hope for a future worth living through.
He cleared his throat, turning his body towards you on the couch, “I work out, sometimes - “
‘’Yeah, clearly’’, you wanted to say.
“Other than that,” he continued, “I don’t know, the bar - sometimes I'll let Wade drag me out somewhere but I usually leave after half an hour.”
“Huh, so you really are by yourself a lot,” you realized aloud.
Logan never thought it sad until he heard it from your mouth.
“I like it that way, most of the time,” he shrugged.
“I can tell - took you two weeks to finally say hello. I think this is the most I've ever heard your voice, actually.”
He realized you were right and did feel a little bad, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I just don’t like meeting new people.”
“Me neither.”
It was silent then - save for the TV - either one of you waiting for the other to explain just why that is. You figured it would be easier if you went first.
“I never really had a lot of friends growing up. I had a hard time in school and a lot of the other kids didn’t like me. It was just tough to make friends, especially because - “
You stopped, thinking over what details to include and what to leave out.
“Because?” Logan prompted and you sighed, biting back a giggle.
“Because I was goth. I don’t mean I just dressed in black - I mean I wore white face paint and huge boots and ate lunch in the art room.”
That actually pulled a real fucking laugh out of him and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.
“I’m not laughing ‘cause you were goth, that's not weird” he clarified, “I'm laughing because I just can’t picture it.”
You didn’t embrace the style as much as you used to, trading Siouxsie Sioux makeup for reading glasses and teased hair for your natural texture.
“I’ll bring over my highschool yearbook sometime,” you chuckled, shaking your head.
Realizing it was now his turn to speak, he readjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat, visibly becoming a little uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, you know,” you reminded him gently, giving a soft smile.
It only made it harder for Logan that you were so damn nice.
He tentatively explained the timelines, the different versions everyone has of themselves, how he’d gotten there. You hung on his every word, unintentionally giving him a sympathetic look when he had finished explaining.
“So…you were just alone after all that?” your voice was soft, worry clear in your tone.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah.. ‘till I met Wade, obviously.”
You gave him a small smile, “you’ll never be alone again, you know.”
For some reason, the unfamiliar comfort made his stomach turn and he simply shook his head, “Yeah, I'm never gonna be able to get rid of him.”
That made you giggle, nodding in agreement.
“You can try, but he will always find you - like a determined cockroach.”
That got the both of you and you’d never seen Logan smile that way - though, to be fair, you never saw much of his face anyway.
The version of you that sat on the couch across from him was far from who he thought you were. He felt guilty now for assuming things just from looking at you, but it was a habit he had yet to shake. It was clear you were beautiful - that was never a question - but talking with you made him realize just how much he may have missed out by keeping himself so closed off. You laughed at almost every joke he had made, comforted him when he was nothing but rude and always checked up on him and Wade. You smelled so nice, your hair looked so soft and he almost found himself wanting to reach over and run his fingers through it. In his eyes, you seemed to be everything he was not; all of the best qualities he believed he didn't possess.
“Oh, hey - do you want some popcorn? I brought the microwave kind, I keep telling Wade to get it himself and he never does,” you snapped him out of his trance and stood from the couch, already walking to the kitchen.
“Uh, sure,” he found himself getting up to follow you, not wanting to pause a moment of conversation.
You tossed the bag in the microwave and hit the button, leaning yourself against the counter. Logan leaned himself besides you, significantly taller. You’d held your composure so far, but having him so close and realizing just how much bigger he was made your heart beat like a rabbit’s.
“So, you never asked about the mutant thing,” He spoke over the popping, looking down at you and waiting for the twenty questions.
You only shrugged, “I figured If you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me. I wasn’t gonna interrogate you about it. Plus, Wade told me.”
“Of course he did,” Logan scoffed, “I’m afraid to know what exactly it was that he told you.”
“You’ve got adamantium instead of bones,” you replied matter of factly, “and you’ve got claws. I mean, I’ve never seen them, but that's what he told me.”
He thought for a minute, stepping in front of you a little. He was about arm-length away, putting enough distance between you both that he was sure he wouldn’t accidentally knick you.
In a second, the adamantium claws protruded from between his knuckles, glistening in the kitchen light. You flinched for only a second, leaning in to inspect them.
“Woah,” you muttered, bringing a finger up to the very end of one of them and letting it poke you, “cool.”
He was a bit confused by your calm demeanor, but relieved by it anyway. It was never a good time when someone had a bad reaction to the claws. The microwave beeped and he retracted them, stepping out of your way. You opened it and held the scolding bag with two fingers, realizing you needed a bowl to put it in.
“Logan, can you grab a-”
You felt one hand on your hip and could see his other reach above you, opening a cabinet you couldn't and handing you a bowl. Your back was almost flush to his chest, making you feel warm all over. He reluctantly pulled away from you and you cleared your throat, shaking the popcorn into the bowl.
He watched you from where you stood, taking in the curve of your waist and hips and realizing he was in much more trouble than he’d originally thought. He’d heard your drunken giggling about him - heard you vulgarly talk about how good you think he’d be at giving head - but he was still thinking it over with his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally broke the silence that filled the room.
“You know, the claws aren’t the only thing abnormal about me.”
“Mm, no?” you laughed a little with your back still turned to him. You could feel that your face was hot.
“Heightened senses,” he said simply, “hearing and smell, mostly.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Like right now, I can hear your heartbeat.”
Your eyes went wide and you practically froze in place.
“It’s fast.”
His voice was closer.
“Really fast,” his breath was in your ear, his hands coming to rest on your waist, “got even faster when I pointed it out.”
You swallowed hard, knowing very well there was no way to lie to him.
“Jus’ nervous sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything,” you exhaled, attempting to still your shaking hands.
“Mhm,” he hummed, his deep voice reverberating through your chest because of his proximity, “what about the other night, though?”
You narrowed your eyes and turned to finally face him, nearly chest to chest.
“What are you talking about?”
You knew exactly what he was talking about - you just hoped it wasn’t what you thought.
His hands were on the counter behind you, boxing you in.
“C’mon,” he looked at you expectantly with a shit eating smirk on his face, “what made you think I’d be good at eating pussy, anyway?”
You were red with embarrassment, pulling your hands up to cover your face, but Logan caught your wrists gently and clicked his tongue.
“Pretty girl, it’s alright - “
His gruff voice calling you such a sweet nickname nearly made your knees buckle.
“I can smell how wet you get, you know that?”
One of his hands moved to hold you by your throat, barely using any pressure.
“F-Fuck off,” you managed to mutter, stuttering when he pushed one of his thighs inbetween yours. This was nowhere near what you pictured happening when Wade dumped you in his living room with a guy who would barely even look at you.
He chuckled, his other hand pushing on the small of your back to pull you closer into him.
“Yeah? I don’t think you really want me to, sweetheart. Besides, you didn’t answer my question.”
You could barely think, nevermind answer whatever it was he had asked. You were almost nose to nose, Logan craning his neck down a bit to level his face with yours.
“I, um,” your breathing was shaky, “fuck, I don’t know - I jus’ think about it a lot.”
“Me too,” he admitted before crashing his lips to yours, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head. It was truthful - he’d probably thought of you every day since the night he heard you talk about him like that.
You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth when he kissed you, letting him slip his tongue past your lips. His hands roamed down your back and to your ass, using his grip to rock your hips over his thigh.
“So beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down your jaw and neck, kissing and biting at the soft skin, “drove me crazy, hearing you say those things.”
“How much - how much did you hear?” you tried to ask, overwhelmed by his teeth grazing your neck. Your hands rested against his chest - as if you were going to push him away - but you never did.
You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin, “heard enough.”
“And what exactly was that?”
If he was going to tease, you might as well bite back.
He pulled away momentarily to look in your eyes, knowing damn well he already had you where he wanted you.
“You don’t want to fix me, you want to fuck me, right?”
Your own words sounded so much hotter coming out of his mouth.
“Mhm,” was all you could manage to get out, too focused on the feeling of him pushing and pulling your hips over his thigh.
“Huh? Use your words, sweetheart.”
There was something about the affectionate nicknames he was using in contrast to the filthy way he was trying to push you down even harder on his thigh that made you lightheaded.
“Yeah - yes, I want to,” you practically whined.
That was all the confirmation he needed to hoist you up onto the counter with his hands on your ass. He was kissing you hungrily, his fingers hooking around the straps of your tank top to let them fall down your shoulders. You didn’t waste any time in breaking the kiss momentarily to strip yourself of the garment, tossing it to the kitchen floor.
“Fuck, jesus christ,” He groaned at the sight of your bare chest and immediately brought his large hands up to massage your breasts. A chill went down your spine when he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue. Your hands were threaded through his hair, tugging every so slightly when he would pull his mouth off you with a popping sound. The majority of your chest was glistening with his spit when he finally brought his mouth to yours again, leaving a clear coating over the developing hickies that he left. You tugged at the hem of Logan's white beater to signal that you wanted it off. He did as you pleased, leaving plenty of skin for you to run your hands over.
“Been thinking of you, all spread out of me,” he murmured in between kisses. He used his grip on your ass to grind you against him, his hard cock pressing against you. The pressure from it was enough for your pussy to start aching.
“I wanna know what you taste like,” he continued, holding your chin to tilt your head up, “can I find out?”
You nodded frantically and nearly choked on your own spit. You lifted your hips to let him strip you of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely bare on the counter in front of him.
You felt vulnerable, pressing your knees together only to have Logan use his hands to spread them apart.
“Uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue, “let me see your pretty pussy.”
He got on his knees on the kitchen floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and settling his face between them. He nipped at the hot skin of your inner thighs and you inadvertently tugged his hair every time he did so. He finally laid his tongue flat against you and you whined, the sound echoing through the kitchen. He was sloppy, practically drooling into your cunt and using it to lubricate his fingers so he could slip them into you. Your theory from before was proven right; he was kind of animalistic when he ate you out.
He was curling his fingers as he thrusted them in and out, sucking on your clit at the same time. You gasped when he spoke with his mouth still buried in your cunt.
“Tastes so fucking good.”
Your ankles were locked to keep his head between your thighs, leaning yourself back against the wall.
“Jesus christ, Logan - “ you whined, cut off when he growled into you.
“Mhm, ‘feels good, baby?”
You only nodded, unable to communicate with how deep he was curling his fingers into you. He continued to mumble praises against your cunt, amused by how much it clearly spurred you on.
“This is all mine, huh? Know you wanted it, could smell how bad you needed me every time you were over.”
You could feel the pressure in your lower stomach start to build.
“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl - makin’ such a fucking mess.”
It wasn’t long before you were pulling him back by his hair.
He reluctantly detached himself, looking up at you with concern. His mouth and chin were wet, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.
“What’s wrong? You okay?”
“ ‘m fine, just - I was close -”
He groaned in a way that almost sounded annoyed, diving his tongue back into you, “C’mon, do it, then - come for me, pretty girl.”
His praise was enough to trigger your orgasm and you couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face as you rode it out. You were cursing, tears starting to form in your eyes when he didn’t let up.
“L-Logan, fuck,” you cried. You could’ve pulled him off, told him it was too much, but he was so determined and skilled in the way he flicked his tongue that the discomfort of overstimulation dissipated into pleasure within seconds.
“One more for me, baby, one more. Think you can?”
You were moaning so loud at that point that you tried to bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sound but Logan caught your wrist and brought it back to his hair, encouraging you to keep tugging and pulling.
Your second orgasms approached hard and fast, tears rolling down your cheek. Your legs shook uncontrollably as he finally sat back on his heels.
When you caught your breath, he pulled himself up to slide his arms around your lower back and plant a kiss on your forehead, wiping your wet cheeks.
“Can I take you to the bed?”
You nodded and smiled wide, leaning up to kiss him.
He effortlessly carried you through the hallway and into his bedroom, your bare chest pressed against his. The second your back hit his mattress, his cellphone started to ring from his bedside table.
You watched Logan furrow his eyebrows and reach for the phone. He read the caller ID and bore an amused smile, switching it to silent.
“What’s so funny?” you asked, wrapping your arms around him when he came to hover above you.
“It’s Wade,” he chuckled to himself, “probably calling to see if everythings alright.”
That made you giggle, “yeah, we can tell him we’re doing just fine.”
“I’ll call him later.”
His lips were on yours again, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you as he pinned you to the bed with his hips. You slid your hands from his neck, down his back and around the front of his waist to rest on his belt buckle. Your fingers made quick work of the metal fastener and you tugged the leather from his jeans. He stood up off the bed for a moment to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. When his cock sprung up from his boxers and hit his stomach, you almost had to choke back a gasp. Again, you were proven right - he was huge. He crawled back between your legs and positioned himself on top of you.
“You’re okay with this?”
If anyone told you maybe two hours earlier that you’d end up under Wade’s grumpy roommate, your chest heaving from the anticipation of finally having him slot into you, you would’ve called them crazy. Now, however, it was a reality - one you would’ve gladly spent the rest of your life in.
You realized he was holding back, gripping the sheets next to your head and waiting for a definite answer.
You nodded and scratched at the back of his neck affectionately. He guided himself into you and you groaned at the feeling of his tip alone.
“ ‘s okay?”
Logan was practically slurring his words with how hard he had to hold himself back. Your warm chest to his, your thighs locked around his waist, the way you smelled; it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.
“So good,” you whined, trying to push your hips up to encourage him to go even deeper, “want all of it, please, please.”
He was chewing on his lip when he finally let himself fill you completely in one thrust. You dug your fingernails into his back, leaving scratches that healed themselves within seconds. He let out a guttural moan with his face buried in your neck, concentrating on trying to build a steady rhythm without finishing things too fast. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of you as he tentatively rocked in and out.
“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat dampened hair from your flushed face. It was so sweet, so intimate; nothing you’d ever really expected with or from him.
“You're handsome,” you managed to reply, amused by how taken back he seemed by the compliment, “perfect.”
He couldn’t remember the last time someone called him that - handsome, definitely never perfect - while actually looking at him like they meant it. Your eyes were trained on the features of his face, attempting to memorize every line and wrinkle; every bit of him that made him Logan. Your eyes felt to him like they could burn right through the wall he’d managed to construct.
Still, he instinctively scoffed as he hovered over you. He was never good at accepting compliments.
“I’m not the lying type, you know,” you assured him, whispering in his ear as he continued at a steady pace, “besides, do you think I'd be under you right now if that wasn’t true?”
“Mm - shut up”, he fought a smile and increased his pace in the hopes that it would render you speechless.
It did, of course.
You were a moaning mess atop his sheets with your back arched to accommodate Logan’s arm sneaking around you. His pace was enough to rock his headboard into the wall and he was thankful it was your apartment on the other side instead of a stranger’s. You were chest to chest as he whispered filthy things into your ear.
“Takin’ it well like I knew you would, baby doll - knew you’d like it when I fucked you like this.”
You were still at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the pressure in your lower stomach.
“You think you’ve got another one in you? C’mon, sweet girl, let me see it.”
His coaxing had your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as he pounded into you. Besides the grunts and moans between you two, the only sound echoing in the room was the slap of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy as he dragged himself out and back in again.
You were almost drooling from how deep he was able to fuck you. The familiar fire in your stomach had you feeling warm all over, building and building itself up. As if he could read your mind, Logan’s hand reached down between the both of you and he started to trace tight circles around your swollen clit.
“F-Fuck, my god, Logan - “
He hummed affirmatively, almost as if to acknowledge that was indeed his name that you were chanting.
You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you almost saw stars when your third orgasm hit hard and fast. You were probably loud enough for the entire building to hear as he worked you through it.
“Good girl, good girl - c’mere,” he praised, flipping you over so that you were on your hands and knees. You laid your chest as flat as you could against the mattress and arched your back. He didn’t hesitate in fitting himself snuggly inside of you again, his hands kneading at and smacking your ass as he used his grip to push and pull you. It wasn’t long before his thrusts started to become sloppy. He leaned down and hooked an arm around you, lifting you up a little so that his chest was pressed to your back. He moved his hand to your throat to tilt back your head. The way you looked back at him, your beautiful eyes boring into his soul - that was all he needed to finally let go. You felt him flood you with his come, a mixture of yours and his soaking the sheets underneath you. He gently pulled out and almost immediately pulled you against him to cuddle, his eyes already fluttering close. You didn’t take him for the cuddly type but it was just another wholesome thing you’d learned about him.
“You should call Wade back,” you mumbled, already drifting to sleep with your head on Logan’s chest.
“ ‘m busy, I’ll do it tomorrow.”
You chuckled to yourself, letting exhaustion overtake you.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Wade practically sprinted up the steps to his apartment the next morning, keys already in hand. If Logan hadn’t answered - even if it was just to tell him to fuck off - something really bad must’ve happened. You hadn't answered any of his fifteen texts, either.
He unlocked his door and prepared himself to be met with a gorey scene, only to be surprised that there was no sign of a scuffle. There was untouched popcorn in the kitchen, clearly abandoned at some point right after making it. Did Logan upset you enough last night to make you leave early?
Of course, he’d completely missed your clothing that had been tossed just out of sight from where he was standing.
Wade sighed in frustration, striding through the hallway and stopping outside Logan’s bedroom. He banged his fist on the door and rested his hands on his hips as he spoke through the wood.
“Hey! Peanut! Did you make our guest leave early last night? How’d it go? You didn’t answer your phone and neither did she.”
On the other side of the door, your heads both popped up at the sound of wade’s banging. You stifled a laugh, looking to Logan for him to say something.
“Uh, yeah…she had somethin’ to take care of.”
Now you had to bury your face in his comforter, uncontrollably snickering.
Without warning, Wade groaned and swung the door open - one neither of you thought to lock because no one had been home.
“You better get your ass across the hall and apologize for whatever it is that -“
He was met with the sight of the both of you in Logan’s bed, covered by the bedding. It was obvious you were both undressed, Logan’s boxers somewhere near Wade’s feet.
He gasped, looking between the two of you in confusion before a giddy smile appeared on his face.
“Oh, I see, I see. Right, mhm - “
Logan was already trying to shoo him out but Wade wasn’t going to let him before he got the last word in.
“You're welcome, by the way!”
He shut the door and you laughed.
Logan laid back again, resting his arm around your shoulders so he could pull you back into his chest again.
In the comfortable silence, doubt settled itself in the form of a pit in your stomach. What if this was a one time thing?
Almost instantly, you felt his hand comb through your hair.
“Hey, uh,” he started, looking down into your eyes, “listen, I know I was supposed to ask this before I got you in here, but - um..”
You could feel your stomach turn, borderline terrified of what he was going to say next.
“Would you want to go out for coffee sometime?”
A wide grin spread across your face and you nodded eagerly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.
“I’d love that.”
A/N: this ones long as hell but so is just about everything else I write! if you've made it to the end I loooove u and pls interact if you enjoyed; hearing feedback is what motivates me to keep writing! as always, my inbox is open as well <3
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan wolverine#smut#fanfic#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fic#fanfiction
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YOU WATCH F1 TOO?!?!?!?!???????!?? RAHHHHHHHHH🏎🏎🏎🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 can we plz get thoughts on drivers 👀🥺🙏🫣🫣🫣🫦
anon i know you sent this sometime around suzuka but that last emoji made me laugh every time i tried answering this. as for the drivers......... sigh. I'm swinging a very bedazzled bat at a swarming hornets' nest. pray for me.
under the cut because i yapped a LOT. also. uh. possible slander. so like.
Red Bull Racing
Max Verstappen: starting off strong here with my favourite guy of all time. He's Inevitable™. He's fast. He's amazing. He's sweet and blunt and gorgeous and I want everything good for him. He's phenomenal, he moves me, he makes it's so easy to root for him and yet, it's incredibly taxing to be a fan given the British bias in F1 journalism and the fandom, not to mention FIA occasionally losing it's goddamn mind.
Sergio 'Checo' Perez: I'm actually so fond of him. His recent performances leave more to desired, I know, but fuck if he isn't the funniest mf around. Also it's simply a matter of time when he gets back in form [the bias is STRONG here I'm aware]. Also he's an extremely good second driver because I for one think he knows how to handle a team built around his teammate. I don't think any other driver on the current grid would have gelled with Max and Red Bull's structure [and strategy to win] the way Checo has.
Ferrari
Charles Leclerc: Il Predestinato. Saint Leclerc. Curse bearer and curse breaker. He's made to be a dream. He can make the hopeless hope. I know I said Max is generational talent but we're quite lucky to be in this era where we have not one, but TWO generational talents because Charles..... this guy..... you have to be blind to not see the sheer talent and insanity this man holds. Ferrari get your shit together istg. I need a Verstappen - Leclerc WDC fight. IT WILL BE GLORIOUS.
Carlos Sainz: *cough* ok, so, I wanna start off by saying I do think he's a chill guy off-track, ok? I really do think that. He's funny, quick, hot [ofc]. As a driver though. I just. He's good --not as good as F1 media wanted you to believe after his win in Australia and the circumstances surrounding it [WDC material??? Any GP winner now is considered WDC material??? ok]-- but he whines A LOT and I would actually prefer if his aggressiveness on track is directed less at his own teammate and more on their opposition? That would be cool. Plus sometimes he forgets it's not 'yippee we are all friends haha' all the time and inevitably fires up when someone serves cunt on track and he's bearing the brunt of it. I call it the Mclaren syndrome if anyone is interested.
Mclaren
enough said [ignore the shit quality i grabbed the first template i could find sjskdjfke]
Mercedes
George Russell: HES SUCH A HILARIOUS DIVA!!!! WHO DOESNT LOVE THIS GUY?? He's so entertaining and fun and he is a very good driver! I feel like we still have yet to see all he can achieve and I am very excited to see what happens next.
Lewis Hamilton: Legend. I truly have nothing else to add. Forget his fanbase, forget his tunnel vision when it comes to winning [and this applies to almost every driver, most of all my favourite ones lol], he's seven time world champion for a reason. Since we're asking for my opinions here though, I'll tell you this: anytime he wins I'm happy enough to see it [though I will forever want to see my favs on P1], any time he doesn't I don't care much, if he has a bad race I will give it less notice- basically, he exists in the periphery of my vision. I have been in awe of him for years and admire him but I cannot call myself a fan. One thing I can't help but obsess over is how cunty and unapologetic he is [which is also something that I love about Max].
Alpine
Esteban Ocon: He's a good driver, he's grinded hard to be here in F1 and I love to see it. Also, he's geek! In my books, that's always a plus.
Pierre Gasly: He's actually one of the most unremarkable drivers on the grid currently. Like there's nothing wrong with him and every time he pops up in interviews or whatever he's fun to see but that's about it? Honestly he seems like a cool guy, a driver okay enough but doesn't stand out much to me in anyway skdjhsjd
Sauber
Valtteri Bottas: THE MOST UNDERRATED DRIVER EVER MAYBE????? I love this dude and I'm hoping he can get something better than the tractor he has this season, as unlikely as it is.
Zhou Guanyu: Again, he's a nice enough driver and I really enjoy his vibe but he's crawling on the track in the tractor Sauber cooked up and I don't really know what to think of him beyond what I have stated.
Aston Martin
Fernando Alonso: Anyone who has a problem with Mr. Alonso has a problem with me. This is a strict Alonso Stan account, I do not take criticism and idc what anyone else has to say about him. He's a legend, he's an icon, he's the spirit of F1. I'm quite literally obsessed with him. You know what. Max is the Only One for me BUT if Fernando happened to win a 3rd title........... Did you know that Adrian Newey was recently acquired by Aston Martin [MAKE IT HAPPEN NEWEY].
Lance Stroll: idc. truly idc. some hate this guy, some love him. im at the camp of idgaf. just complete indifference.
Haas
Kevin Magnussen: If you've noticed anything by now, it's that I love love love track terrors. Not the stupid bitches who divebomb everyone all the time and start barking when it happens to them. Nah, the ones who race. I fucking love them. I love Kevin. Hoping against hope that he gets a seat somewhere next year, I will miss him so much. He's incredible to watch. God. I will actually miss him so much. Fuck.
Nico Hulkenberg: Another underrated driver, he's actually quite skillful and entertaining to watch. I just wish he had better luck like 😭
VCARB
Daniel Ricciardo: I miss him. His performances had waned and yeah, it had been time for him to go but I will still miss him and idk man I will admit I wasn't his biggest fan a while back, which had hurt because at some point, years back, he was the main reason why I watched the sport at all. But he had slowly wormed himself back in my heart and fuck. His last race actually made my chest clench ngl. He was absolutely amazing.
Liam Lawson: Consider me sat. I'm SO curious to see how he performs. We know he's got potential but just how far can he stretch?
Yuki Tsunoda: How many times have I used the word 'love' already? I'm sorry but what else can I say? I genuinely love this fella. He's so good and exciting to watch on track and also, plain funny. I wish for everything good to happen to him.
Williams
Alex Albon: infatuated with his billion dollar smile. Now that that's out of the way let me also just say HES SUNLIGHT INCARNATE, also I COULD LISTEN TO HIM YAP FOREVER. Idk I'm actually really happy for him because he seems to be flourishing at Williams and I mean this in the best way possible: he shines at a midfield team. [Also, note me saying he's sunshine doesn't negate just how fucking sly & sassy he can be. I adore that about him.]
Franco Colapinto: MY BELOVED. I perk up like a sunflower under the sun when I see him. He's such an intriguing driver. I detect hints of track terrorism abilities brewing here and cannot wait to see more of it. Also! He's so refreshing to listen to. I know like 80 percent of the grid is no-nonsense and transparent but man idk how to say this. He's a fucking comedian. Not a thought that has any sort of filter at all in that pretty little head of his. Just. No PR training at all here.
Logan Sargent: This boy. He did not deserve even a smidgen of what he had to tolerate. I actually detest the collective treatment from the fandom and his own fucking team that he had to constantly weather. I hope whatever racing division he advances to, he fucking demolishes. I hope he has so much fun winning. I miss him and his reserved smiles.
Special mention:
Oliver Bearman: I mean he raced twice this season, I can't skip over him just like that. Anyways, he's a BABY [< girl who's half a year older than him sjedhbwje] and I WANT HIM TO DO GOOD. He's done relatively well till now in the limited time on track [in F1] we've seen him, we'll have to wait and watch how he does next year. This F2 season for him has been... eh but like I get why.
#max verstappen#sergio perez#charles leclerc#george russell#lewis hamilton#franco colapinto#logan sargeant#fernando alonso#kevin magnussen#nico hulkenberg#valtteri bottas#yuki tsunoda#girl idk anymore imma just tag f1 & call it a day. too many of these guys skdjnksed#f1#anti mclaren#anti lando norris
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WIBTA for telling someone i can't be friends with them and returning a gift?
buckle up gamers, this is gonna be a long one. so i (22nb but i present fem) was out at the bars the other night just kinda hanging out, and a girl (26f) came up and started talking to me. she didnt really seem...super present i guess? and i talked to her to be nice and she had a cool outfit on. well i was a little drunk and ended up giving her my phone number and meeting her husband (39m) and they walked me home. the whole time she was talking about how she doesn't have any friends and her ex friends just wanted to get with her husband. she told me she was bi and i was like hey me too but im not interested in sex so that was cool. she ended up walking me home w her husband bc it was late which was nice, but they seemed really shocked i lived in such a nice apartment(i do, its expensive but my parents pay for it. im really privileged to be able to do that).
i saw her again today because she kept texting me about wanting to hang out, so i went for ice cream with her bc it was in a public place and i wasnt super comfortable going back to her apt with her. i paid for her ice cream bc she said her card wasnt working, nbd bc my parents have money and her and her husband aren't really well off. i said she could pay me back sometime, buy me ice cream or whatever another day, but she really fixated on it. she told me her husband thought i was cute which made me a little uncomfortable but i laughed it of, and then she kept talking about how she was bi and would date a girl and how she approached me not to date but to be a friend and then 'see where it goes.' she also told me she did porn online to make money which is fine w me, that she's on disability but that the money isnt really enough to live on, and that she'd been raped in the past and drugged which yanno a little overshare-y considering ive known her for three days but she really seemed like she needed someone to talk to and im good at listening. well her husband showed up out of nowhere bc he apparently tracks her phone and we all went back to their apartment bc i couldn't say no(im a doormat. i know) and she ended up giving me two pieces of jewelry in return for buying her ice cream which felt a little like overkill. i tried to refuse but she said she wouldn't ever wear them again so it would be fine. it was really kind of her but now i kind of feel i owe her back for them. the whole time i was there they seemed really eager to get me to move in nearby, and while its true that area is definitely cheaper my parents are really fine paying for my expensive apartment bc my tuition is a lot cheaper than my sibling's. she and her husband walked me home again, mentioning they might be going on a cruise in november if they could save up the money and that they could bring a friend. i said id almost definitely have school which they seemed to accept. they kind of seemed to want to see my place, but i told them it was really messy(it is) i have anxiety around having people in my space(i do) and that maybe they could come up another day and i could make dinner, and she told me she didn't like people cooking for her bc she'd been drugged in the past and that i could go over to their apartment again instead.
my parents think theres some really big red flags going on and i should try to break this off sooner rather than later. i pretty much agree. im not gonna ghost her and they dont think i should either, but that i should somehow return the jewelry in a kind way and tell her i cant really be super close friends. my mom had the idea to draw myself wearing the jewelry and then say i still have a memory of it but to return it bc i cant accept such a nice gift which i could try to do.
to be clear i am shit at communication and setting boundaries, im very aware of that, and most of this can be solved by telling her hey i can't accept this gift and im really busy for school a lot and im sorry i cant be as much as a friend as you need. but i still kinda feel like tah for leading her on almost and then breaking it off like everyone else in her life. ive been under a lot of stress bc of school and my stepgrandmother passing and trying to take care of my grandfather so trying to be friends with someone that seems kind of high maintenance is not really tenable for me.
so, wibta if i tried to let her down gently?
What are these acronyms?
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hc/short story/blurb?? for shino with a girl that specializes on plant jutsu? I like thinking of them as sort of like in nature. (I had to look it up lol) mutualism! 🌱🪲
Also whenever shino (attempts) to talk, she takes all of it in. When shino’s not around, she notices and remembers him. Shino and her go back and forth about all sorts of stuff; she asks about Shino’s bugs and his favorites and she actually listens. Shino finally reciprocates and asks about her plants and all that.
She vibes well with most of the teams though so she’s got friend groups up the wazoo. Shino’s petty as fuck so I’m getting some jealous vibes from him too. But he shouldn’t feel that way over someone he’s not even in a relationship with, he thinks…. Not with the first person that’s actually remembered him, no……
(Also, shino’s canonically packing so do with that as you will, my friend. I just need something for our beloved bug boy.)
this request had me in a chokehold for two whole days - i really ran with this, it's pretty long, but sets up well for the last part of your request - i hope this hits your marks, thank you for the request!!
The Art of Mutual Growth
Pairing: Shino x f!Reader
Summary: Shino meets his perfect match while on a mission, and he quickly finds out that his solitude was dust, compared to the castle of your company.
W/c: 4.3k
Warnings: Swearing, talk of suicide (Shino's terribly dramatic about you), self-loathing
Notes: i was imagining Shino a few years post Blank Period in this, but this could work for Boruto era Shino too if y'all are in to that top knot - if you want a smuttier part 2, i got that shit lined right up, just lmk
Masterlist💿
He was used to being overlooked, discounted, alone. It never bothered him - even in love, his parents were solitary people, raising him to be unbothered by a sullen lack of attention. Being left to his own devices, Shino turned to his bugs for solace, and they provided as much as they could. To his knowledge, he was perfectly happy, alone with his insects.
But then you danced into his life, a trail of flowers in your wake.
You were his perfect match; a woman who could use Plant Release technique. Your kekkei tota was a gift of your Kiso blood, but too powerful for you to ever have full control over. Still, your control was wildly impressive, and your technical fighting skills were more precise than any Shino had seen before. Unlike him, you hailed from the Land of Flowers, but you couldn't reveal any further personal details at the time. It was a shame that the mission that brought you to Shino didn't allow him the time he so desperately needed to talk to you.
Side by side, you and he had fought together. Your snaking vines fed Shino's bugs chakra, and allowed them to infiltrate places on your vines with a much greater speed and accuracy than they ever could when Shino was alone. His bugs found your chakra delicious, almost as distracted as he was by you and your power. The recon mission went without hitch, mainly thanks to your immense amount of pure chakra and will to prove your capabilities. It was a shame.
Upon the mission's completion, Shino merely listened to your cracking conversation with Kiba and Shikamaru, resigned to the fact that he had missed his chance, already moving on in his mind.
When the team returned to the Hidden Leaf, Shino was ready to be the first to leave, already peeling away from the group until...
"I'm sorry," your sweet voice said timidly, behind Shino.
He stopped in his tracks, and you did as well, staying right behind him. The bugs' chakra told him you seemed nervous, which arguably relaxed him. Clipped, he asked, "What for?"
"We never got the chance to get to know each other," you grinned, coming around Shino to face him with a placid smile. Extending your hand, you gave him your name, and with a charm to your tone, asked for his.
Clearing his throat, Shino couldn't find his voice for a second. He had never seen such a pretty smile, let alone been the receiver of one. Your bubbly attitude caught him off guard. He couldn't fathom what you were doing, why you would be wasting your time, talking to him. You could've stayed with the team, striking up any number of conversations with one of them... but you didn't. You chose to talk to him.
"Shino Aburame," he said finally, taking your warm hand in his.
"You're wonderfully strong, Shino," you hummed, shaking his hand slightly. "The chakra control you possess is to be envied. I'd love to know more about your insects, if you have the time."
Staring the gift horse right in the mouth, he scoffed, "You must be joking."
"No." The expression you wore quickly became confused, but your tone genuinely despondent. With a twitch, you let go of his hand and Shino could feel his heart plummet. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
From behind, Kiba's strong voice cut you off. "Hey, Y/n! Wanna take a tour of Konoha?" He came bounding up to the pair of you, Akamaru by his side, stealing your attention from Shino. "I'm free to be your guide, unless...you two..."
Looking back at Shino for a moment, you seemed to mull something over thoroughly in your mind. Your eyes were full of expectation, and Shino could feel his palms dampen.
"Go with him," Shino said, as casually as he could, though his words came out rather harshly.
He wished he could take it back as soon as he said it. The feeling that came when he saw a sharp sparkle in your eye, followed by an overbearing dullness, made Shino feel empty and so very stupid. Your lips drew straight, and your air became serious - everything about you became stony, frigid. The exact opposite of your demeanour before Shino had opened his stupid mouth.
Maintaining eye contact with Shino as you took Kiba up on his offer, he could feel his heart leap from his chest and into your palm. You squeezed it then, and when he watched you walk away with Kiba and his ninken, you crushed it.
In the aftermath of the successful recon mission, you were invited by the Fifth Hokage to stay in Konoha and train under her. You took her up, of course, and became an active member of the society within the Hidden Leaf. Everywhere Shino went, there you would be, talking to swarms of people at a time.
It was Promethean punishment, that he didn't deserve.
You would never speak to him again, because he was born with his foot in his mouth. He would be cursed to see you everywhere he turned, but you would never speak to him again.
A week had passed since you came to Konoha to stay. Shino had been tantalized, shown exactly what he wanted but couldn't have, for seven days, and he was sick to death. His solitude had never felt so solitary, watching you bop around the village with an onslaught of people.
It was made even worse by the fact that he had consistently been catching you, staring at him. The bugs would be abuzz, begging Shino to ask you to sprout one of your vines, telling him that you looked ready to approach him, yourself. He ignored then dually, thinking they were exaggerating your apparent willingness to speak to him. Why would you ever leave a full entourage, just to speak to him?
With the sun sinking lowly over Hokage Mountain, Shino decided to wrap up his meditation and just go home. His body was alight with energy, but his soul begged for rest and reprieve, something that Shino could not provide. As such, he left the sanctity of his neck of the woods to make a medial dinner and have a long sleep. Maybe that would fix him, though it hadn't seemed to work for the last week. Shino felt restless, completely unable to settle in a way that even resembled himself before you came along.
He would just have to get over you. The chance you served up on a silver platter had been spit on, and you would surely never serve it again. Shino had to move onward and upward, he couldn't stagnate.
But then-
There you were. In his hallway. In front of a door. Fiddling with your keys and hissing curses under your breath.
And all Shino could think was, I am going to make her my wife. I need to marry this woman.
"Hi."
You looked up, startled, but quickly smiled and looked back at your keys, still pulling and shoving. Slowly, you said, "Hey...Shino, right?"
He had never heard his name like that before. It dripped with silver and gold as it left your pretty lips, and Shino never wanted anyone else to say his name again. Only you. Only you, forever.
Looking up at his lack of response, you seemed nervous but tried to smile. "You're my bug boy, aren't you?"
"Yes," he said a little too quickly. The nervousness vanished from your expression as embarrassment became his. He cleared his throat, trying again, "Yeah. That's me. Shino."
She remembered. Her bug boy. Her's. She knows. I need to make her mine. Someway, somehow.
"I didn't think I knew anyone in the building," you said, finally procuring the key you wanted from the tangle. You slipped it into your door, the smiled at Shino, the nervousness coming back to you. In a light voice, you asked, "Would you...would you like to come in? Have a tea? With me?"
Shino thought he had died and gone to Heaven. There was no other plausible reason for him to have been getting another opportunity with you, this one infinitely more golden than the last.
The lock clicked and you opened the door, still awaiting his answer. A rush of cool air came over Shino, standing near your door. Leaning back, Shino tried to bite back his forming grin, before saying,
"I would like that very much."
You mumbled something under your breath and stepped into the apartment. Shino followed in after you, welcomed by the scent of lavender and rosemary. As you let him look around the living room, you went to the kitchen to prepare the tea.
Shino had never seen such a beautiful little place, especially not one that reflected it's inhabitant so well. Plants sprawled across every wall, their pots interconnected through a series of braided vines that wrapped and weaved around the others. All of the wooden things in the apartment were birch, the coffee table, the bookshelves, the chairs. To boot, all of the pillows and cushions were a pale, dusty green colour. Books and journals laid all over, accompanied by a myriad weapons and solo-practice materials. The feeling of peace was abundant in the small apartment, Shino found himself actually start to relax.
So, he would be letting you decorate the house when you eventually became his wife. This was useful information to Shino.
"Sencha or matcha?" You asked him, poking your head out of the kitchen.
You cared. "Sencha."
"Okay, give me another minute." You ducked back into the kitchen, your hair flowing so nicely behind you.
Feeling his bugs growing anticipatory, he began to try and suppress them. The last thing Shino wanted right now was for his bugs to take advantage of your hospitality. But his refusal only made them angrier. With your vines so near, it was like holding a lollipop in front of a child and saying no.
Coming back into the living room with a tea tray, you smiled at Shino, making him neglect his control over the bugs. Almost immediately, a swarm of insects came from Shino's body and flocked to the nearest vine before Shino could do anything about it. He swore and started trying to wrangle them, only stopping when he heard your melodic laugh.
He never wanted to hear anything else again. Not even the way you said his name could compare to your laughter - no sweeter sound had ever been produced.
"I don't mind, Shino, let them be," you hummed, setting the tray onto the table almost silently. Shino turned to you slowly, unsure if you were just letting your hospitality speak for you. You laughed, "It's fine. I promise."
"Whatever you say," Shino replied faintly, still not convinced but not willing to argue with you for even a second.
He came around to the couch as you picked up the jade teapot and poured both cups. He thanked you, taking up his teacup while you sat down on the couch. Sipping the steaming beverage, Shino hummed,
"This might be the best tea I've ever had."
"I'm glad," you grinned, sipping your tea before patting the cushion beside you. "Sit with me. Please."
Without hesitation, Shino sat on the furthest edge of the couch, giving you the space you deserved. You just giggled softly, collecting your legs onto the couch and shifting your entire body to face Shino. He smiled absentmindedly, heart thumping inside of his chest.
"So, I have to ask," you started. Shino turned more toward you, giving you his full attention. "Why did you get all aggro when I asked you about your bugs, the other day?"
Oh. No. No, this wasn't what he wanted. No.
"It...erm, it was... I don't..." Stars above, wasn't he pathetic? Couldn't even speak to the only person he wanted to speak to. He sighed deeply, "It wasn't the bugs, I just... I thought you were making fun of me when... when you... you know...?"
Furrowing your eyebrows as he blathered, you looked at Shino like he was crazy. He had never had so much trouble stringing together a sentence, and he didn't even finish the thought. The silence that followed was thick and heavy, just making Shino feel worse about his inability to talk to you.
"When I complimented your chakra and your control?" You asked finally. Shino nodded, just thankful that you spoke and he didn't have to. To his surprise, you smiled that sweet smile of yours and asked, "Why?"
"Who are you? The police?"
"Oh, n-no... I'm sorry."
Fuck, he could've killed himself. Only Shino Aburame could make a joke that wipes the smile off of your face. It was his voice, it wasn't jovial enough. No, it was his face, he looked too mean. No, no, it was his brain.
"No, I'm sorry," Shino sighed, setting his cup on the coffee table before rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses. "It's the fact that you're as powerful as you are... and I'm not..."
"We don't have to talk about that."
Letting a short chuckle fall from his lips, Shino looked at you from the side of his glasses, getting a fully coloured vision of you in his peripheral. He took a breath, then felt a small bubble of laughter as he asked,
"Then what do you want to talk about?" He sipped his tea, letting it warm his hands. "I'm a much better listener than talker, if you haven't caught on."
"I could've guessed." Narrowing his eyes, though you couldn't see them, Shino turned his head to you slowly. You laughed freely, "I talk too much as it is. I've got some innate need to chew the air. Aren't we a lovely pair?"
The church bells ringing, everyone's chatter falling to a hush as the organ begins-
"Hm, you've got such a nice voice, Shino - it's a pity you want to deprive me of it."
And here you are, coming down the aisle, right into his arms.
"W-what do you want me to say?" He asked quickly, chomping at the bit to make you happy. He didn't even have the mind to question your sentiment, just elated that it existed.
You sipped your tea, saying, "Tell me about your bugs."
"You're not making this easy for someone born to be a mute," he joked, watching your reaction intensely. Shino prayed his tone was humorous, that the small smile on his lips would support him.
And, to his joy, you laughed. Warm and rich, each soundwave landed on Shino's ear like a butterfly's kiss. You hummed, "I'm sorry-"
"And, please, stop apologizing to me - you haven't had a thing to be sorry for," he added.
"Okay," you said softly, looking at Shino with a matching expression. "Who's your favourite, then?"
That was a hard question for Shino to answer, especially given the bugs were in the room. But they were distracted, and so was he - both parties too under your influence to care.
Shino was still stumbling over his words and forgetting the most important ones, but you remained patient and attentive. It seemed you either were enchanted by his voice, or you were genuinely interested in what he had to say. Either way, Shino felt confidence bloom within him, and he started launching into great detail about his insects.
With rapt attention, you listened to every word that came from his mouth. Here and there, you would interject valid questions into the lulls of his speech, and he would answer them fully. As the two of you gradually finished the entire teapot, Shino found himself talking, and talking, and talking. He suddenly couldn't shut up.
"Fuckin' pot's empty," you grumbled, letting the final drop drip into Shino's half-full cup. "Want me to put on another, or do you fancy something else?"
"It's getting late, and I've already taken up enough of your time," he declined politely, finishing off the swig in his cup.
You sighed, "You say that like I've not been enjoying myself over the last-" Glancing at your watch, you gasped, "-three hours. Jumping Jehovah, I'm so sorry, I totally sucked up your night under the guise of tea."
"I would've just been sitting around, wanting to talk to you anyway," Shino chuckled lowly, feeling rather bold after having spent so much time with you.
Both of you stood from the couch with bashful smiles, each too shy to look at the other. Shino walked to your door and you followed after him.
"Do you want me to walk you to your door?"
He laughed lightly, "I don't expect that of you, but I'd have to be insane to turn down your company."
Opening the door wide, Shino motioned for you to go through. You thanked him kindly, then walked beside him in the hallway, five whole paces, to his door.
"Thank you for the tea, Y/n," he murmured, getting out his keys.
Your hand found purchase between his shoulder blades, making Shino freeze in his motion. His eyes darted to your face, finding the beautiful crescent of your smile in full bloom. "Anytime. We should make it a thing."
"We should."
"Goodnight, Shino."
"Goodnight, Y/n."
The breeze floated down the street with Shino. Today was the day, and it seemed even nature knew it. Nothing could slow him down, nothing could stand in his way.
Today was the day.
He had decided last night, today was going to be the day. It was an easy decision to make, but the gathering of courage tested Shino's resolve. But he was ardent, he was determined. Even if he did stutter, you would find it endearing, just like you had for the last six months. Even if he did say something wrong, you would understand, just like you always did.
Today, he was going to make you his. And he would finally be yours.
The plan was simple; show up at your door with something you would enjoy and deliver a great, long monologue that perfectly encapsulated every emotion he felt for you, then you would jump into Shino's arms and promise yourself to him.
The issues immediately became obvious; you could've hated the gift, he could've (and probably would've) screwed the monologue up to high Heaven, and, scariest of all, you might not have been so quick to jump into his arms.
Shino could have potentially been planning on destroying the only relationship that ever particularly flowed naturally for him. He didn't want to think about that, not at all.
Not when today was the day.
The act of getting you a gift turned out to be more of a tribulation than Shino had imagined it to be. Nothing was grand enough, nothing meaningful enough. He needed something that would blow your socks off, something that would reduce you to the babbling fool that he became around you.
After spending an hour scouring the market squares, Shino moved to the trading post. Even longer was spent there, looking through stalls and trying to picture your reaction to each thing that struck him. But nothing was good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough for you.
Settling on a pricey collection of teas before the trading post closed, Shino haggled with the old man selling the tea. Just trying to get the price down to the amount he had in his wallet, Shino eventually left the trading post, coatless and penniless.
It didn't matter. Today was the day.
Stars, he wondered how nerve-wracking the ring shopping would be in a few years if this little trifle was causing so much strife.
Rounding the corner of the main street, Shino mulled over what to say to you. He just wanted to say I love you and kiss you, but that left you no agency. Even though it was becoming abundantly clear that you were interested in him, Shino still wanted to give you the chance to say no.
One thing that Shino hadn't taken in to account, though, were your other relationships.
And, as you came out of a restaurant with Kiba and Akamaru, Shino realized how grave of a mistake he had made.
Your face shone with a smile, ear to ear as you laughed at some witty quip Kiba delivered. He smiled back proudly, looking at you hungrily. The three of you began to walk toward Shino and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
"Oh! Shino!" You exclaimed brightly the second you saw him. Tearing away from Kiba and his ninken, you quickened your pace to Shino. He took a step back as you approached, otherwise frozen. Your happiness faded to worry as you asked, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
The fact that anyone else could be graced by your laugh was wrong. The fact that you just finished what looked a lot like a date with Shino's former teammate was wrong. The fact that you didn't know what was wrong, was wrong.
"Shino, sweetheart, talk to me," you commanded gently. Kiba and Akamaru loomed a few paces behind you, trying to look like they weren't intensely listening. It aggravated Shino monumentally.
Everything about how today was becoming was aggravating him. Shino couldn't even enjoy his name on your tongue, let alone the pet name you had given him. It all felt like lip service.
"I got this for you," he said weakly, offering up the wooden box in his grasp. You looked down and cocked your eyebrow, before looking back at Shino. "I wanted to... to... nevermind." His heart was shattering. "Just take it."
Even if the gift wouldn't have the same effect, Shino wanted to see your reaction. He truly thought you would like the tea, potentially more so now that his unrequited feelings weren't attached. Cautiously, you took the box from Shino but didn't open it.
"You just wanted to what?" You asked, still so concerned over the man before you. "Where's your jacket? Shino, please, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's not important."
"Something is clearly bothering you, and it is important," you rebutted, acquiring a slight edge. "What's bothering you? If you don't tell me, I can't help."
Fuck.
"I love you!" He shouted, putting every single emotion he felt into his words.
Fuck.
Feeling like he was going to cry, Shino turned on his heel and walked. He didn't want your reaction now, he just wanted to save face, if that was even at all possible, at this point.
"Shino," your sweet voice said timidly, right behind him.
Stopping dead in his tracks, Shino hung his head lowly. The bugs were no help, just saying your eyes were as glossy as his.
Slowly, you came around to face Shino and bent lowly enough to be in his view. You smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile back, taking in the odd posture you assumed as you let the wooden box rest beside your feet. Everything felt so silly. So trivial.
"Yeah?"
You straightened out, making Shino's head follow you as his eyes stayed glued to your face. Your beautiful face.
"Before I make myself look stupid-" Your sentiment made Shino scoff a laugh, because no one could look more stupid than him. Sweetly, you just smiled, continuing, "Do you love me platonically, or romantically?"
He took a deep breath, blinking slowly, before answering, "Every single way under the sun."
"Good," you beamed, taking a step forward and taking the lapels of Shino's flak jacket into your hands, pulling him forward. On your toes, your face came closer to his than it ever had been before, your petal soft lips brushing against his so gently as you said, "I love you too."
Not wasting a moment, not getting in his head, Shino knew that this was it.
He leaned down, closing the small gap, and met your lips fantastically. Not even Shino's wildest, wettest dream could've prepared him for the utter decadence of your kiss. His hands found your hips, pulling you as closely as he had needed you to be for months. But it wasn't enough, for either of you.
Leaning even lower, Shino's left hand cascaded down your lower back and you got the message. Immediately, you jumped up and he caught the bottom of your thigh, squeezing your tender flesh with his left hand while his right explored your back, sitting you atop his hip bones. Your legs locked behind Shino, squishing his waist in a way he didn't know he craved so badly. Warmth exuded from your being, a warmth that Shino longed to be blanketed under and hidden within.
"Come back to my place," you said between kisses. Shino just smiled and started to walk, but then you stopped kissing him, making him stop on a dime. Running your fingers up his lapels and allowing his neck the sweet contact, you laughed, "What's in the box, if you can just leave it in the middle of the street?"
With a chuckle, Shino turned around. He noticed Kiba had left, and he felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. Not putting you down, Shino knelt and picked up the heavy box with his right hand, holding it behind you.
You groaned, scratching his neck lightly, "My stars, you're strong."
"You never noticed?" Shino joked, though a feeling of pride surged through him.
"I've noticed you're impressive in a few different respects," you replied with a teasing lilt. Moving your hips, Shino felt a friction that was positively dream-like and you purred, "Don't you want to impress me?"
"More than anything." And he meant every syllable.
"Good," you hummed, placing a lingering kiss to Shino's lips. You looked at him, eyes more obviously filled with desire than Shino had ever thought visibly possible. "Take me home."
By his lucky stars, Shino would gladly do so for the rest of his life.
Part 2 - The Art of Mutual Pleasure
#shino aburame#shino aburame x reader#shino aburame fluff#naruto shino#shino naruto#naruto fanfiction#shino#aburame shino#aburame shino x reader#shino x reader
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No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
Chapter 10
Warnings: swearing, angst
Notes: I'm sorry this update took so long. I had a big dramatic scene in the meeting with Nick Fury planned but I wrote and rewrote it for three days and it just never hit right so, hopefully this works.
Lemme know what you think, I live for likes, shares and notes.
Nick Fury landed at the compound late Monday afternoon and went straight into Maria Hill's office to meet for over two hours. He left to go back to his quarters for food and sleep.
Maria immediately logged on to her computer to send a meeting invite to the Avengers for the next morning.
The team discussed the email over dinner in hushed and worried voices. Even Tony and Steve seemed concerned. Sharon was done with her treatment and appeared to be back to her normal self, even if she did act like the ankle monitor she was wearing weighed a ton. There was an ongoing investigation into when Antonia first gave her the serum, before or after Sharon became the Power Broker, so the ankle monitor helped Friday keep track of her and prevented her from going outside of the residence floor, common room and medbay.
Sharon grabbed the seat next to Bucky and was flirting with him, although more subtly than previously. Bucky moved his chair over as far as he could to get away from her until Sam elbowed him in his ribs. Sharon didn't get the hint and tried playing footsies with Bucky until he 'accidentally' kicked her in the shin while still wearing the steel toed boots he had on when he was playing keep away with Sam's shield earlier.
Sharon yelped "What the fuck Barnes? Are you wearing steel toes? You nailed me right in the shin. It's not bad enough that my other leg has that stupid monitor which makes my leg ache, if anyone cares."
Bucky shrugged "Shouldn't have been trying to play footsies." He smirked at her "and, No, no one cares. Maybe deciding to become a crime lord wasn't your best call, huh?"
Sharon shook her head as she felt her face heat up and stammered out "B-b-but I, I w-was just uh st-stretching mmmy legs."
Sam choked on his drink as he tried not to laugh "Fuck! Sorry, went down the wrong way."
Bucky smirked as Sharon glared at Sam then looked down swearing under her breath. "I helped you assholes and ended up an enemy of the state, I should have let Ross deal with all three of you."
Steve cleared his throat and looked at them like a disappointed father whose kids are acting up during dinner, which made Sam laugh out loud.
Tony sighed "Alright children. A little play to ease the tension is fine but this shit is serious. Fury is going to come down on all of us and I don't feel like taking his abuse for something that I wasn't involved with. You!" He pointed at Bucky and Sharon "And Romanoff, are the reason Cookie left so I vote for you taking the brunt of his anger."
Bucky looked down at his plate as he moved the food around. "I know and I plan on accepting responsibility for my part in it. I've been trying to figure out how to convince her to come back but I'm stuck. I'm open to any ideas."
Tony nodded, unconvinced "Riiight, good luck with that.
Well if anyone's interested, Romanoff is still in a holding cell while medical takes care of her. She's reportedly a difficult patient but seems to be improving."
There was a collective groan before Bucky shook his head "Pffft, not interested."
Sam snickered while Steve gave Bucky that dad look again to which Bucky just shrugged. "Well, I don't care. She's caused me too much trouble."
Steve sighed "She was being controlled, Buck. You can't hold her completely responsible."
"Maybe not but that doesn't mean I'm interested in her condition. I'm sure that the medical team will take care of her and it's not my problem. She was being weird even before all this drama. She tried to restart the whatever we had in the Red Room and I don't want her." His face dropped and he muttered sadly "I just want Cookie."
"Right, jerk." Steve looked around "It's getting late, we should all get some rest so we're up to dealing with this meeting tomorrow."
The others nodded and mumbled agreement before getting up to clean and heading to their rooms. Sharon tried again to talk to Bucky but he strode away too quickly for her to catch him.
Bucky tried to sleep but couldn't, like most nights since he pushed Cookie away he laid in his bed staring at the ceiling. Looking at the 'glow in the dark' galaxy and blue twinkle lights that Cookie decorated his room with. She said it was too impersonal and decorated with posters, soft pillows with matching blankets and such. All space related, galaxy patterns. Usually it was calming but not right now.
Now he spent most of his time either in therapy, writing to Cookie or wallowing. Feeling angry at being controlled again, feeling sorry for himself, feeling empty because she wasn't here.
He got up to sit at his desk and write another letter to her. The letters started as declarations of his love and apologies for his actions, whether he was in control of himself or not. Now they were a running commentary of each days events and activities, plus whatever topics branched off from that, like they used to have in the evenings after dinner. They would lay on his bed with his music playing softly, holding hands and staring at the galaxy overhead, talking about their day and whatever else came to mind. Sometimes they had stayed awake talking until the sun came up.
Bucky fell asleep at his desk as he was writing, only to be jolted awake by Friday. An alarm and reminder of the meeting in 1 hour. A hot shower didn't help wake him up so he headed to the kitchen for coffee. He grumbled the entire way, Fury scheduling a meeting at 5am was just cruel and unusual, Bucky knew it was just the beginning of the punishments they would endure until things were set right.
Just to ensure that this day was shit from the gate, the first face Bucky saw was Nat, in the kitchen. He sighed and cursed his luck.
Nat smirked "Morning Barnes, you look like you haven't slept. I can come by later and help tire you out." She practically purred.
Bucky scoffed "Hard pass." Proud of himself for remembering some of the current slang that Cookie had been trying to teach him. As he looked down he noticed Nats ankle monitor and chuckled "Nice jewelry you've got there."
Nat scowled at him "Fuck you, Barnes."
Bucky smirked "In your dreams" as Nat stomped off.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and headed towards the conference room where Steve was already waiting. He grunted a greeting to Steve and took a seat. The rest of the team trickled in until a few minutes before 5 when Nick Fury strode in, Maria Hill following right behind. Tony ambled in shortly after and sat down.
Three hours later, everyones ears were ringing from the yelling. As they walked out of the conference room, Bucky and Sam were arguing over how many times Fury hollered "mother fucker/s" over the course of the meeting.
Sam just shook his head "I've never met a man who could yell for that long without losing his voice." He looked at Bucky then towards Sharon and Nat
"All y'all better get your acts together because if I ever have to sit through 3 hours of being yelled at by Nick Fury for something I didn't do again, someone's gonna pay."
Fury had cancelled all leave, every extra perk the team had and assigned additional training and chore duty. None of them would be having much fun anytime soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Every day Cookie came home from work there was another letter from Bucky. She ate dinner alone, staring at the stack of letters, afraid to find out what they said.
Every time she thought about it she started thinking he was ending their friendship for good, then argued with herself that he wouldn't keep writing if that were the case.
On Friday night she sat on the couch eating takeout with the news on in the background. It almost felt like the letters themselves were calling out to her. Once she finished eating she cleaned up her mess and poured a second glass of wine. She sat back on the couch, turned the news off and turned some soft jazz music on before looking at the stack and sighing.
Cookie took a long drink of her wine before finally picking up the first letter. She looked over it for a few minutes, searching for any hint of what was said inside but it was just a plain envelope with Bucky's writing.
She carefully opened it and pulled the papers out. She took another drink to calm her nerves and unfolded the papers, gasping when something fell out, onto her lap. She looked down and her eyes grew wide as she picked up Bucky's dog tags. He never took them off, being one of the few items left from his past, he was very attached to them.
Cookie looked at the tags only to notice a second pair of tags. They were nicer than the set the Army gave Bucky when he enlisted. They had his full name and nickname, birth date with his birthstone and instead of his serial number it said 'Property of Y/N Y/L/N, bka Cookie, please call or return to the Avengers compound.' She laughed and couldn't hold the sob in.
With tears running down past the smile on her face, she put the dog tags over her head, held them against her heart and started reading.
Dear Cookie,
I'm not sure where to start, I have so much to say and the words keep getting mixed up in my head.
I miss you, more than I ever imagined missing someone. This place feels empty and cold without your warmth, your smile lit up my days and now everything seems dark.
I'm so, so sorry for everything, I never wanted to hurt you. I've only ever wanted to love and worship you like the goddess you are.
You probably already found my dog tags, I want you to have them. The other set were kinda meant as a joke but it's true. You own my heart and I think you always will.
I knew, that first day we met, that you were it for me. I know it might not have seemed like it at first but you scared me. The way my body reacted to your simple handshake scared the Hell outta me. I was a mess and you were so beautiful and smart. And caring, patiently waiting for me to come out of my shell. I know you deserve a better man than me but my time with Doctor Raynor has taught me that I do deserve happiness and good things.
The night we spent together was the best night of my life. I was finally feeling like I could be the man you deserve and even if you hate me and never want to speak to me again, I will Always hold the memory of that night, of being with you, making love to you, that feeling that everything is exactly how it's meant to be. I'll never let that go, even if I live another 107 years.
I'm sorry that our bliss was destroyed so quickly but if you let me, if you want to, we can rebuild it into something stronger.....
The letter went on with an update on life in the compound and Bucky's thoughts about everything. Cookie skimmed through that part, Sam had been keeping her updated on the gossip so she barely paid attention.
The letter finished....
I hope you are happy where you are now and I'm sorry for avoiding you. I didn't think I deserved your forgiveness or grace but now, I'm hoping I can earn both and prove to you that nothing is more important to me than your happiness.
All my love,
JBB
Cookie held the letter and dog tags to her chest as she cried herself to sleep, a deep restful sleep like she hadn't experienced in a long while.
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Chapter 11
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#angst with a happy ending#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#no benefits
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❤For Your Eyes Only❤
Email 1: "Don't be ridiculous, Daddy. Give them your card." | Masterlist
CC: [email protected]; [email protected]; @pinksirensong; @aralezinspace; @sloanexx; @deniixlovezelda; @targaryenmoony; @risefallrise; @slavyanskiyahui; 🔪DO NOT OPEN THIS EMAIL ON YOUR WORK COMPUTER🔪 Dear Aemma, Daemon just called me poor for wearing jeans and a t-shirt outside. AND I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO SAY, little miss allergic-to-low-quality-fabric, but damn, I was going to the SUPERMARKET! With Love ❤
Daemon Targaryen x Reader
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: Fem!reader, sugar daddy themes, smut (man handling, choking, degradation kink, humiliation kink, vaginal penetration, hair pulling, fingering), elitism/classism, fashion police!Daemon, Daemon 'im too rich to be working in the office' Targaryen, fluff, slice of life, typos, etc.
<Some Wednesday Morning; It's Really Fuckin Hot>
"Daemon, you need something?"
Daemon turns from the computer on his desk to over his shoulder. His face contorts as he looks me up and down, "what are you wearing?"
He swivels on his office chair as I walk up to the counter behind him to get my keys, "I'm going to the supermarket."
"No," he furrows his brows, "I asked what are you wearing."
I stop in my tracks, looking at him as his lips curl in disgust. I make a face and shrug, "jeans and a shirt."
"That you slept in," his forehead wrinkles. I look to, yes, the shirt I wore last night as he digs his heels into the floor, rolling his chair towards me. Once he is in front of me, he grabs my left thigh and squeezes it.
"I took a shower last night," I raise a brow as he rubs my denim clad flesh. I brush his silver blonde hair back, "in case you've forgotten, you were there."
His hands dig into my waistband, fingers fidgeting with the button.
"Daemon-"
"You have to change," he mutters, looking up at me with his violet eyes.
I raise a brow, "change huh?"
I push him off when he undoes my button and fly. His chair rolls back slightly. He repels the motion by tugging himself forward by my leg. His chair rolls forward. He bites my hips through my clothes.
"Daemon, later."
He hums and lifts my shirt to bite my skin. I grunt at the feel of his teeth. He mumbles hotly against me, "I'm serious about you changing though." Daemon leans on his back rest, hands still on my thigh. He rubs me up and down, "this is a crime against humanity."
I roll my eyes.
"You look like you can't afford convenience store snacks."
I scoff, "WOW."
He shakes his head in disdain, "you look like you work for minimum wage."
"FIRST OF ALL," I shriek in annoyance, "who are the fucks that refuse to increase wages so that people like us can actually look nicer?"
Daemon narrows his brows, "I don't employ minimum wage workers."
"You mean you don't give a shit," I swat him off.
He releases me and sighs. He waves his hands around, "what's with the people like us business?"
Daemon waits for me to respond but I don't.
"You're mine," he points, "you're my person. There are no other people like you."
I snort and roll my eyes yet again. Regretfully though, could not hold back the chuckle that leaves me.
Daemon smirks, utterly pleased with himself, which was why he rolls back to this desk without a care, not that he ever actually cared, "go change."
I look at him and knit my brows, "you can't be serious."
"Oh, I'm serious," he turns to me, "I don't need to see another photograph of you online looking like a homeless person."
Sigh. The repercussions of dating a nepo baby.
"Daemon, the paparazzi don't take photos of me if you're not there."
He hums as he turns back to his PC and moves his mouse around, mumbling under his breath, "tell that to the journalists blackmailing me with pictures of you."
I freeze. Blackmailing? "What?"
Daemon's clicking stops. He stills then slowly turns to me.
"W-what kind of pictures-"
"Just ugly ones where you look homeless," he leans back with a stoic face.
I am rigid in my spot.
He sighs then stands. He wraps his arms around me from behind. He leans down to kiss my neck and squeezes me tightly, "it's nothing compromising," he brushes my hair back, "they just want to extort as much money as they can from me by captioning your pictures with bullshit about how badly you dress as the lover of some old money dickhead."
I release a breath. He brushes his nose against my cheek. I turn to him and give him a look, "I'm just going to the supermarket."
"I know," he purses his lips, "but I bought you all those dresses to wear, not to store."
I raise a brow, "you want me to wear designer dresses to the supermarket?"
He lets me turn to face him as he licks his lips, "no, I want you to wear designer dresses everywhere."
"Pfft," I blow a raspberry, "even at home?"
"Especially at home," he nips at my lips, making me squeak and pull away. Daemon grins as his hands scour down my body. He squeezes me tightly as he says, "wanna see your pretty arse in the shit I buy."
I roll my eyes exaggeratedly as he chuckles like a cheeky school boy.
"Don't roll your eyes at me," he holds back his smile, "my man brain likes to see my woman in the clothes I picked out for her."
I press my lips together, fighting my own smile back, "ah... you picked them out, huh? You didn't just buy the first thing you saw and asked for it in my size?"
"What does it matter if it was the first thing I saw?" he looks down at my breasts and begins to massage them, "I still picked it."
I sigh but break into laugh. I swat him off and turn back, "fine," I walk away, "if you're so repulsed by jeans, then I'll change, your highness."
Daemon bites his lip and slaps my ass, prompting him to shoot him a dirty look, "unfortunately, my dear, you've got me so pussy drunk-"
I groan at his crassness.
"-I'd find you attractive even if you were covered in shit."
"Nah," I wave a hand, "you're just a kinky troll."
He laughs.
<Some Other Wednesday Morning; It's Still Really Fuckin Hot>
I rub my wrists together, spreading the perfume, as I walk out of my bedroom and head to the living room. I find Daemon's bored and hardened face staring blankly at his computer screen.
I snort at his clenched jaw and crossed arms. The clicking sound of my pumps reverberate in the silent room as I head over to him.
Before I reach his desk, he turns to me and immediately perks.
I smile at him as he straightens up in his chair; his hands move to his armrest. Knowing he was in the middle of an online meeting, I point to the door and mouth, 'I'm going out'.
He turns to his computer screen once then back to me, raising a hand. I shift on my spot, placing a hand on my hip as I watch him type away on his keyboard.
Two clicks later, he stands and rips out the wireless earphones from his ears. He places them on his desk and walks over to me.
I raise a brow and bring my arms to the side, "meeting's done?"
"No," he huffs, grabbing my arm, "but I sure did want an excuse to leave that fucking meeting."
Daemon pulls me into his chest and rubs my sides. The silk of my dress is smooth to the touch and it makes him smirk, "don't remember buying this for my pretty fucktoy."
I grunt then sneer at him, grabbing his jaw with my manicured nails, "that's because I bought it for myself."
Daemon smirks at that and bites at my hand, prompting me to pull away.
"Yuck," I say flatly as I wipe his saliva on his shoulder.
He steps back and brushes his hands down my bare arms. He brings one hand overhead and spins me around, eyes raking my body intently. He hisses as the skirt flares as I twirl, a teasing glimpse of my stockings-clad thighs eliciting it. Daemon pulls me back into his chest, hand on the small of my back as he nods, "very good."
I smile back at him, "well, I have good taste."
Daemon's lip curve and his eyes narrow. He fiddles with the thin chain necklace on my neck, one of the many he's gotten me, "and how much was this dress, pretty girl?"
I purse my pink painted lips. I fawn naivete, "pretty girls don't look at prices, daddy."
He chuckles deeply and grits his teeth, one hand coming to my hair, pulling my head back slowly, "daddy's card is not a toy, cupcake," he nuzzles into the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent. I knew how much he loved the smell of the perfume on me.
I whimper as I wrap my arms around him for support as he pushes me back. I let out a soft sigh when he bites down on my skin. Still, I manage to retort, "but you like it when I play with you."
His hot breath tickles me as he chuckles, "byka rene," little slut.
Daemon pulls back, a smirk playing on his lips as he says, "you're right. I like it when my stupid whore taunts me so I can make her cry."
My stomach rolls when he begins to bunch up my skirt in his hands.
"Tell me," he knits his brows, pretending to be serious, "where are you going again, dressed up like a perfect little slut?"
He digs his hands into the waistband of my stockings and yanks then down, "mmm, to pick up that shit from your parents."
I release a breath as his hands circle around my hips beneath my dress.
He raises his brows.
I place my hands on his shoulders, "t-the mall."
I simultaneously shudder and yelp as he thoughtlessly pushes me aside like a ragdoll and releases me in front of his desk. My heels skid on the floor and I nearly trip on my feet. Thankfully, I crash into his table and my hands on the surface keep me upright.
Daemon rips my stockings down to my ankles then turns me over. My hands dart to his chest and I push him back back with a grunt, successfully evading his kiss. He tenses with confusion.
"Please, don't ruin my makeup," I shake my head, "I spent hours on it. Don't wanna do it all over again."
He pulls his head back in evident offence and chuckles dryly, jaw slacking, brows raising.
I feel my lungs constrict as his hold tightens on my airways. He roughly begins to rip at my clothing.
I yelp when he flips me back over and shoves me forward. I hit his PC and his keyboard which knocks into the mouse, making it fall off the desk. My breathing strains when he pulls me back with a hand to my throat. He huffs hotly against my ear, "you think a brat like you can act out and get her way, mmm?"
"Please don't, please, please, please, please-" I trail off, using the last remaining breath I had to convince him. Soon, I begin to feel lightheaded that I have to dig into his clutch.
I catch my breath when Daemon finally loosens his grip and rips my panties down.
"Please, please, please Daemon. I really don't wanna-"
I continue my desperate pleas as his hand finds my slickened folds, fingers firmly rubbing the area. My body reacts instantly to his familiar touch.
"Enough," he barks, hand ripping away from my core to slap my ass. He releases my neck and shoves me forward. My abdomen roughly collides with the edge of the desk, even though my hands took in a great force of his blow.
"Spoiled bitch," he mutters under his breath as he frees himself from his pants.
I make a sound when he grabs my hips and begins to carelessly pound into me, intent on making a point with his roughness.
I whimper when he pulls my hair back; my hand comes to his wrist on instinct. Daemon grunts and he pants into my ear, "with all the fucking money you spend on makeup," thrust, thrust, thrust, "it should at least be able to withstand a good fuck, don't you think?"
"D-Da-"
"I'm not done speaking, brat," he cuts me off by pulling my hair.
I feel my eyes begin to water at his apathy and brutish movements. Yet, at the same time, I feel my thighs quiver with welcomed electricity.
He hums, "should I take it out on your skanky dress if I can't ruin your lipstick?"
My lips quiver, "p-please don't."
"Say something?" he mocks.
"Daemon, please."
"Louder."
"Please don't, Daemon."
He releases my hair. I lean forward on my hands. His finger dig into my my hips, "beg."
I huff as my toes curl in my heels, "please, Daemon."
"I can't he-"
"PLEASE."
He huffs.
I squeal when he touches my clit. "And what exactly are you begging for?"
"W-wanna... wanna come."
I let out a sound at one of his particularly rough thrusts.
"Greedy whore," he groans, "such a taker. Are you a gold digger?"
My body feels heavy with his ministrations on my clit. I catch my breath as I feel my imminent high build.
Daemon's hand rubs up my to my breasts, which he then squeezes. He leans into my shoulder, "I asked you a question, sweetheart," he kisses my skin, "are you gold digger?"
I huff through my nose and gulp, "n-no."
"Wrong," his hands go to my hips again, "you are a gold digger. Now say it or I'll come on your dress."
"I'm- I'm a-"
Before I can finish my thought, my knees buckle and I come undone against him. I feel myself clench around him, and he in turn takes a hand to my neck and rips me back against him. I let out a sound as my belly tightens and flutters.
"Well?" he asks impatiently as I whine.
He nips at my ear, "good girl."
"Mm- m'a go'digger- ma gol' d--"
With that, Daemon releases a lewd sound against my neck as he spasms against me. I squeal as I feel his heat spill into me and my thighs begin to shake.
Once we've both calmed down, I hear Daemon gulp as he catches his breath and pulls out of me.
I whine as he does this, leaning into his desk. He carelessly walks back to his computer and tucks himself in his pants, plopping down on his office chair.
I give him a look as he smirks at me and mutters, "makeup still looking good, babe."
I feel a wetness drip down the side of my thighs as I straighten up. I huff and gather my skirt as I bend down and pull my stockings up so I could actually walk off.
Daemon watches as I waddle away, "you're dripping you know."
"Yes, thank you," I quip dryly.
He smirks and leans back on his chair, "that good, aye?"
"Shut the fuck up."
He chuckles as he picks up his mouse, "fucking make me."
#for your eyes only#daemon targaryen smut#daemon smut#hotd smut#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#daemon#daemon targaryen x you#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd fanfic#daemon angst#daemon targaryen angst#daemon fluff#daemon targaryen fluff#daemon au#modern!daemon#hotd au#hotd modern au#sugar daddy!daemon
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Can we appreciate and analyze how impeccable Vash’s skills as a marksman is bc I hadn't noticed anyone talk about it in length and this gif literally drives me insane:
Content warning: mentions guns / gun and shooting below the cut because otherwise this analysis would be moot.
This is coming from someone who used to only shoot air rifles for sport like how you'd see it in the Olympics with paper targets!
Ok so as I’ve said I've shot guns before (not at anyone ya sickos) and believe me when I say that Vash has such a good steady aim his arm doesn’t even bend when he moves it - he moves it from the shoulder/ his waist to keep that arm straight and relaxed as possible, which is crazy because that gun looks like a BRICK made of solid metal. There's no way that thing is light, there's definitely some weight to it, but the way he moves it is smoother than most people I've seen lift a credit card.
Now it’s not unusual in sport to have at least some tiny weight on the end of the barrel to keep it steady and act as a counterbalance but that’s like Olympics, not a fight. Vash may be superhuman but I don’t think carrying a cross like the Punisher would make fighting any easier, so it’s safe to say holding a decently heavy chunk of metal filled with lead isn’t easy either (I’m pretty sure the humans we’ve seen so far held their guns with two hands either due to weight or stability and they're not so smooth anyways).
So him tracking someone with a gun like that in only ONE HAND is kind of impressive even at that close range bc it doesn't matter how many times you hit your mark, your barrel would NOT be as steady as Vash in that gif unless you're this gif of Kobeni from CSM:
Even that scene in episode 3 when Vash is aiming at Knives (which I can’t find a good gif of) he doesn’t move the barrel at ALL until he has to lift it and follow Knives’ head. No shaking, no wobble, not even the SLIGHTEST figure 8 you’d normally get when you aim down a barrel - it’s a smooth turn of his wrists following Knives’ head up.
And that’s all from EXPERIENCE. Look at the two gifs below:
You can literally see how much he’s improved since he lost his arm - he’s expectantly super wobbly compared to the last gif in episode 2. He notably doesn’t “force” the gun to stay in one spot and aim where it needs to be - he raises it then let’s it “settle” on where he’s aiming to shoot before firing. A good shooter knows how to aim and take the shot before they lose the target w/o moving (called “following through”), but a great marksman knows that when it comes to shooting you should never fight against the body’s natural tendencies to move the way it wants to even when you’re aiming at something because you’re less likely to wobble or move when your body is relaxed and comfortable. Moving it away from that position will cause you to quiver and inevitably try to return to that same comfortable position against your will. That’s not just something you pick up on naturally - you have to LEARN that shit.
Which means Vash literally took the time to either completely unlearn every single one of his body’s natural ticks in order to shoot like a pro OR he learned how to work along with each one so his aim was always on point. Either way, it took him 150 years of practice to reach that level and it definitely paid off for him I think!
There’s a bunch of other ticks I noticed, too, like him keeping his trigger finger on the side of the gun if he’s not aiming to shoot anything in that moment but still has the gun in his hand so he doesn't accidentally misfire:
Or how he never keeps one eye closed bc the twitching WILL make you shake and lose focus so he always keeps both eyes open when aiming so he sees better:
But this post is long enough as is and I think we all get the idea that he’s that fricking good at using a gun.
TL;DR Studio Orange did a fantastic job convincing me that Vash is an INSANELY GOOD marksman and this is coming from someone who used to shoot air rifles for sport and had an incredible coach who would also agree with me and say this guy’s aim is surreal if he ever watched this show. Also his reload speed is absolutely demonic too like what the actual hell-
EDIT: added that scene from episode 3 just to show you guys what I meant (sorry it's low quality but you get it!!! Also the fact he's keeping his finger on the trigger bc he knows how unpredictable Knives is and could strike him down at any moment just shows how confident he is at keeping his hand steady bc if he were shaking he would DEFINITELY have misfired by now).
#trigun stampede#text post#vash the stampede#analysis#gun#guns#shooting#marksmanship#seriously if this dude ever shot in the Olympics#I guarantee you everyone there would go INSANE#I used to shoot standing with my feet misaligned and it drove other coaches mad#because not only is it completely against how you’re supposed to be taught how to shoot (feet in one straight line)#but I actually shot better that way and landed bulls eyes consistently#bc my hips dont lie and my waist liked to move it like a blender ig but hey it worked!#anyways i think vash is neat!
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Negotiation
Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic
They’ve been debating which case to work on next week so long that the car windows are all Rorschach test splotches of fog.
There’s a moment’s lull in conversation. Mulder reaches into the console, fishes out his bag of seeds and pulls it apart. His eyes lock on twin silhouettes in trench coats moving through the mist about twenty feet outside their car.
“You know, I hear they’re more than just partners,” he offers in a conversational tone.
“Who?”
“Gillis and Perez,” Mulder says, cracking open a sunflower seed, gesturing out the front windshield. “That’s the water cooler gossip, anyway.”
“Spending a lot of time at the water cooler, Mulder?”
“I’m in the know, Scully.”
They’ve been waiting in the car outside a row of weather-battered warehouses for two hours, part of a coordinated raid that hasn’t gotten its go-ahead yet. There have been days of briefings and prep, but something seems to have gone to shit, because they’re sitting positioned with practically the entire Bureau twiddling their thumbs. Dressed for action with no place to go.
Mulder suspects they’re probably not really necessary in this operation, which is about the size of the invasion of Normandy. They’d probably not be missed if they drove off and went to pick up some hamburgers.
But they’re nothing if not team players. And besides, this isn’t so bad. Scully sighs next to him, and he subtly glances at her. She’s leaning back against the seat, the soft arch of her neck exposed and her lips slightly parted. There are worse ways to spend an evening.
He turns back to watching Gillis and Perez through the front window. They’re dutifully walking the perimeter of the closest building.
The two agents don’t look overtly romantic, he decides. If it’s true, they’re discreet. They do walk side by side, very little distance between them, but they don’t touch one another. Gillis is a tall woman, so she stands almost at Perez’s height, and their heads keep arching towards one another to talk.
He wonders what they’re talking about. It could be anything—the raid, the weather, their favorite sexual positions.
Scully’s eyes track them, too, seeming to note every possible tiny physical clue.
“Hmm,” she says slowly and thoughtfully, “I admit, that’s interesting.”
“Interesting that it’s an open secret and there don’t seem to be any repercussions?”
“Yes,” Scully says, pushing back against the seat and stretching out her limbs like a cat. “And interesting in other ways, too.” She reaches down and, peeking first, helps herself to some of his sunflower seeds, her small hand slipping into the bag’s interior without crackling the wrapper.
Mulder makes an affirmative humming sound. “I thought so, too.”
“I mean, on some level it’s perfectly understandable,” Scully adds, placing some seeds between her lips, her eyes still focused out the window where the pair have disappeared around the corner. “They’re both very attractive. It’s hard to date in this job. People have needs.”
Mulder glances at her warily again. Jaw working on his own handful of seeds, he doesn’t answer right away, cautiously processing this statement. “Sure,” he says mildly. “I guess you’re right.”
And then the car is quiet, only the sound of cracking seeds and the rustling of the bag as he reaches for more.
“Actually,” Scully says casually, “it makes me think that we could do something like that.”
Mulder turns to her. “Something like what?”
“What Gillis and Perez are doing.”
“What?” He blinks rapidly. “Are you being serious?”
“Yes,” she says. Staring out the front window, she certainly appears serious, if a little uptight.
“You’re teasing, right?”
She looks down and carefully smooths the dark pants she wore for the raid, as if she has just noticed many sudden wrinkles. “If you don’t want to, fine. I was just raising the idea.”
“Raising… the idea,” he repeats, bewildered.
“Okay, Mulder,” she says with a small sigh. “I get it. It’s out of the question.”
“I’m just shocked that you would bring it up like … that you would just … it’s unexpected.”
“Let’s change the subject then. How do you like the Knicks this year?”
“I mean…” Mulder runs his hands down the sides of his face, dragging his cheeks. “What are you suggesting, exactly? How would you see it working?”
Scully’s eyes flash to his. “I’m not suggesting something in particular. It would be open to negotiation.”
“Open to negotiation,” Mulder says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus, Scully.”
“What’s your concern exactly?”
“So this would be a ‘meeting needs’ kind of deal,” he says, using finger quotes. “A ‘taking care of basic urges’ situation.”
“That’s one possibility,” she says brusquely.
Mulder’s head twists rapidly back towards her. “What are the other possibilities?”
“Well,” Scully says. Her face changes color. “It could be a little more traditional than that, I suppose.”
“Traditional like what?”
“I don’t know, Mulder,” she says, throwing her hands up. “It would be open to negotiation. Is there an arrangement you would prefer?”
“To be honest,” he says, “I’d prefer not to have an arrangement at all.”
“Then we certainly don’t have to discuss it any more.” Her lips draw tightly.
“No, no,” he says, and he reaches out to place his hand on hers without thinking. “That came out wrong.”
“Mulder,” she says, stiffening under his touch, “let’s just gracefully drop it, okay? I regret bringing it up.”
“I just don’t want an arrangement,” he repeats meaningfully. “I don’t want a negotiation.”
“I get it,” she says shortly, jerking her hand out from under his.
“No,” he says. “No, you don’t.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t want … what you suggest. I’ve thought about it. A lot. Maybe too much.”
Scully’s mouth twitches at the corners as she apparently absorbs this. “Okay,” she responds. A pause. “Then why not?”
Mulder rubs his temples aggressively.
“I don’t think I could do it without … all of it. I mean, that’s not strictly true. I could do it. I’m only human. But I think it would end … really badly.”
“End badly how?”
“I don’t know about you, but to me sometimes it seems like things are too complicated between us already. This would be upping the ante. I’m pretty sure I’d always be wanting the whole thing.”
She’s confused. “What do you mean by ‘all of it?’ The ‘whole thing?’ We could negotiate that, if you wanted it. Make it part of the arrangement.”
“Scully,” he says in a fond, exasperated tone. “You can’t negotiate being in love. You know that, right?”
He thinks for a moment she’s not going to respond.
“And that’s what … you want?”
“Well, it’s probably not something I’m going to have a ton of willpower about, so don’t test me,” he says with a rueful hitch in his voice. “But in my experience, it’s a bad idea to enter into a sexual relationship with someone you’re in love with if they’re not in love with you.”
Scully is very still, apparently reacting to the implied revelation. He steels himself for more.
“I admit, I’ve done it in the past,” Mulder says. He’s proud of how calm he sounds. “I might even be prone to it, whatever that says about me. It’s ended in spectacular fucking heartbreak. You think it will work out, that you’ll convince the person, and it feels real. But it’s not. And in those cases, it wasn’t like…” He breaks off. “Well, it wasn’t like this partnership. Which, as I hope you know, is ... already different from most other kinds of relationships. I just think this would be a lot worse. More painful.” He hesitates before saying the last word. “Devastating.”
They don’t say anything for a moment. Scully has a strange, almost dazed expression on her face.
“Gillis and Perez,” Scully says, gesturing to where they’d walked around the corner. “Is that a meeting-basic-needs situation?”
“I have no idea,” Mulder says. “Maybe. Or maybe they’re one another’s soulmates. I don’t know. Water cooler didn’t cover that.”
She nods once. He hears her toying with the edge of the sunflower seed bag.
“For what it’s worth,” she says, after a moment, “I didn’t bring up the meeting-basic-needs idea. You did.”
Mulder’s brow furrows. “Did I? I thought you mentioned ‘needs.’”
“I used the word ‘negotiation,’” she continues, in her precise work voice. “Which doesn’t really reveal anything about the feelings of any of the parties. It just means parameters would have to be agreed on in advance.”
“I guess,” Mulder says doubtfully.
“I don’t know if it would be as risky as you’re thinking,” she adds with finality. “It seems to me that you’re making some faulty assumptions.”
“I don’t think I am,” Mulder says stubbornly. “I know myself pretty well, and I know my feelings.”
“Yes,” she replies, “but you don’t know mine.”
A pause.
“No,” he says in a different tone. “Now that you mention it, no, I guess I don’t.”
“It never occurred to me that we would have an arrangement without … attachment. I suppose I took the attachment for granted.”
“Attachment?”
She nods shortly.
“And by attachment, you mean…?”
She bites her lip and rolls her eyes. “Mulder.”
“That embarrasses you, Scully? Talking about feelings?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Just a little hard to believe when you were propositioning me for sex a few minutes ago.”
“I wouldn’t describe it as propositioning you for sex,” she says huffily.
“No? Come on. You were basically like: let’s negotiate a contract and take your pants off, Mulder.”
“That’s not what I was like,” she replies, flushing.
“I know what I heard.”
“I was only trying to say that maybe we should talk about this option … that we don’t ever talk about,” she says tightly. “That we both think about.”
“Scully—”
“An option that’s literally sitting right in front of us. That Gillis and Perez chose for themselves.”
He squirms in his seat, then pulls in a long, slow breath. “Yeah.” He’s not looking at her. “You’re right.”
“You were the one that made me sound so…” She composes herself. “You were the one that took feelings out of the equation.”
He steals a careful look at her. “I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t respond, and she’s looking away from him, but he suspects, from past experience with the various cadences of her voice, that she’s got tears in her eyes.
“I should have realized you had some protections up, too, Scully,” he adds roughly.
She looks down at her hands.
“Scully,” he tries, gently, “just to be clear in negotiation here—are you saying that … it might be possible for you and me to have a relationship where both parties hold equivalent feelings?”
She lifts her head, and there are indeed tears pooling in the corners of her clear blue eyes. “Don’t you know me at all? Haven’t you been paying any attention?”
He reaches over and takes her hand in his. Her small fingers feel gritty, like the salt coating his sunflower seeds.
“I thought I was paying attention,” he says. “But then you go and do something really, really surprising.”
“I thought I was being logical,” she says primly, looking down again.
He places a finger under her chin and tips her face up. “Very logical,” he says in a low, playful voice. “Nothing says logical like initiating a relationship with Fox Mulder.”
#the x files#xfiles fanfic#x files fanfic#fox mulder#dana scully#xf fanfic#x files#my fic#negotiation
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Show It Then- Bam Margera
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summary: bam forgot your guys’ anniversary and you two have an argument, leading into him making it up to you.
lowercase intended
warnings: smut, arguing, & not proof read
a/n: wrote a completely different ending to this but i liked this version better 😵
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i stared at the wall of bam’s room, waiting for him to come home. today was our anniversary and he was out getting hurt with the guys instead of spending it with me. when i showed up at the front door, sobbing my eyes out i swear april wanted to smack him upside the head. i promised her i’m okay but she obviously knew it wasn’t. i’ve been sitting on his bed for the past hour and a half waiting for him to come home. my tear stained face was all dried up, my makeup runny. i hear the front door open and slam shut, followed by bam’s laugh talking. i hear april scolding him to which he replied back with “i didn’t even do anything”. i laugh at his audacity, the fact that he forgot this day. his footsteps get louder as he reaches his room, swinging the door open. he stops in his tracks once he sees me, a confused look on his face.
“y/n? why are you here?”
i just looked at him, giving him a death glare.
“have you been crying?” his face fell once he noticed my makeup.
he quickly rushed inside his room, carefully closing his door.
“no shit i’ve been crying.”
he looked puzzled, confused at my outburst.
“you forgot the most important thing is our lives, bam.”
his eyebrows furrowed as he searched through his mind to what he could’ve possibly forgot. his eyes then widen when he realizes, rushing to sit next to me and grab my hands.
“baby i’m so sorry.”
“i told you this last fucking night, bam. and you still forgot! i waited for you to pick me up, bringing out the nicest dress i own!” the tears started up again.
“i’m so sorry. i-i forgot, the guys called me this morning and-“
“i really don’t wanna hear the excuses, bam. you have no fucking clue how angry i am with you!” i stand up, running a hand through my hair angrily.
“i told you i was sorry!” he argued.
“sorry doesn’t cut it, bam! this isn’t the only time you forgot shit! maybe you forgot that too, huh?”
“i can’t spend all my time with you, y/n! i’m a busy man with a job!” he yells.
“a job?! bam, you injure yourself for other people’s entertainment!”
“a job is a fucking job, y/n! i don’t see you fucking complaining when i pay for shit!”
“pay for shit?! i had to fucking pay for our last 4 fucking dates because you blew your money on a skateboard!”
at this point we were full on arguing, pretty positive that april and phil were listening.
“yeah, for my fucking job!”
he was right up in my face, his spit flying onto my face a bit.
“maybe this isn’t working out, bam.” i whisper.
“w-what?” he stepped away from me, his demeanor changing.
“you have no fucking time for me anymore. you forget our dates and anniversary, you forget i even exist.”
“i do not. baby, you mean everything to me..” he raised his hand to touch my cheek but i move away.
his eyes flutter as he began to cry, heart aching.
“act like it then, fucking show i mean everything.” i breathe out.
he stares at me before walking to his door, locking it. he turns around to face me, placing his hands on my cheeks. he wiped my tears, peppering kisses to my cheeks. i stood there and leaned into his touch. his lips met mine softly, the kiss so tender and light.
“i’m so sorry, i’ll make it up to you..” he whispered against my lips.
i shivered as his hands reach behind my back, zipping down my dress. i wrapped my arms around his neck, finger nails clawing at his shirt. he slowly let the dress fall down my body, his mouth parting open at the sight of me wearing no bra. his hands ran across my skin, making goosebumps form. i sigh at his touch, tilting my head back. he began to kiss my neck, marking my skin. he grabbed onto my boobs, kneading them. i whine at his touch, rubbing my knees together.
“we have to be quiet, okay baby?” he whispers against my neck.
i nodded since i couldn’t form any words, my mind too set on his hands. he carefully guided us to his bed, sitting me down. he pulled my dress fully off, throwing it wherever. i would’ve been mad if i wasn’t needy for him. he pried my legs open, the cold air hitting my soaked underwear. he groaned at the sight, palming himself.
“come here.” i pant.
“no no, tonight is about you, baby..” he mumbled, looking up into my eyes.
i swear i felt my knees go weak, his blue eyes staring up at me from that angle was a sight to see. i leaned back on my elbows, watching his every movement as he pulled down my underwear. he tossed them onto my bed, claiming it was “for later”. he angled himself above me, spitting directly on me. he didn’t need to honestly, i was already wet. he used his pointer and index fingers to rub between my folds, spreading me. my eyebrows furrowed with pleasure as i sighed out. he pulled his finger back up, sucking one of them clean.
“can’t wait to taste you..”
famous last words before he duck between my thighs. i let out a loud yelp, slapping a hand onto my mouth. i felt bam chuckle, the vibrations going through my body. he licked at me, slurping up my juices like he was hungry. i squeezed my thighs together, causing him to pry them apart. i grabbed onto bam’s dark brown hair, tugging at it as a way to keep myself quiet. he moans into me, loving when i do that. i grind myself against his face, feeling his nose rub my clit.
“fuck, bam…” i cry out quietly.
it was hard to keep quiet, as bam’s mouth does wonders. i let out little sighs and pants, a few moans slipping past my lips. the sounds that filled the room were lewd, the sounds of slurping and groaning coming from bam. he pulled my closer to him, my legs wrapping around his neck as a reflex. i was practically off of the bed, only being held on by bam. i glanced down at him, making immediate eye contact. he’s been watching as i wiggle underneath him, panting his name. beads of sweat trickled down my face, ruining my makeup even more but this time for a good reason. he continues eating me out, eventually shoving his ring and middle finger inside. i let out a loud moan, not caring if anyone heard. i grind down harder onto bam, practically riding his face. i start to get a bit louder, my hand once again on my mouth to keep me quiet. my body started to feel numb, buzzing with adrenaline. i moan like crazy as i feel my release coming, my thighs squeezing shut again. bam doesn’t do anything about it, letting me squeeze him to death as i cum all over. i bite down onto my hand as i cry out, letting all my juices coat his face. i slowly ride his face to ride out the high, breathing fast as i do so. he pulls away from me, bottom half of his face and his shirt all soaked from me. he gave me a drunken smile, licking his lips.
“taste so fucking good.” he wiped his face off with his fingers, licking them after.
“so gross.” i laugh, shaking my head.
“here, let me clean you up.” he pulled back onto the bed, leaving me for a second to grab a clean towel.
he wiped me up, getting everywhere from my thighs to my ass.
“i’m sorry once again, baby. we can do something tomorrow. tomorrow is only about you, no one else.” he kisses the top of my head.
“i love you, bam.”
“love you, too.” he presses a quick kiss to my lips, tasting myself.
he grabbed some of his clothes and helped me put them on, getting comfy for our sleepover.
“i’m gonna go shower real fast.”
“i’ll be waiting.” i wink.
he blushes and walks into his bathroom, leaving me alone. i sigh as i smile brightly, thinking about how a couple hours ago i was crying about this man and now he was in between my thighs making me cry out.
#bam margera#bam margera imagines#bam margera smut#viva la bam#viva la bam imagines#viva la bam smut#jackass#jackass imagines#jackass smut#johnny knoxville#johnny knoxville imagines#johnny knoxville smut#ryan dunn#ryan dunn imagines#ryan dunn smut#dave england#dave england imagines#dave england smut#chris pontius#chris pontius imagines#chris pontius smut#steve o#steve o imagines#steve o smut
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Mechismo - No. 02 /// Declassified
(Previous)
You waddle, with all the copious nobility your ankle-chain allows for, up to her.
The rebel.
The one that put you in this cell, and stands on the other side of a painted line — same colour as the sand she threw you into; left your mech behind in, to be recovered later.
You smile, same as then, cos’ they’ve got it now and she’s just figured out that you’re fucking untouchable. Not that she dares show it on her split-lip, frigid-bitch face, arms a trench line across her chest, in a red-dusted bomber — yours, with the patches and medals torn off.
You don’t even think she looks bad in it. But she would look better with it off.
There’s no stripshow. Instead, she peers down a thrice-broken nose and sneers, “The data vault in your mech. It had one accessible file: the SWN-6B Swan.”
“Not gonna call it impressive, but it’s common. Messes up ambushes, can fuck on a patrol time-to-time,” she continues. “Until we had this — the entire declassified spec. IFF codes? Scrambled. Transponder? Tracked. Buncha design fuck-ups we didn’t spot.”
Boots tread onto the line; she puffs you up on her own breath.
“You’re not supposed to have that.”
And— that’s a statement, not a question. Huh.
You suppose cos’ aces are still grunts, no matter the shine — and whine, almost as if you’re confused. Your hands held at the tips, you look up doe-eyed and twist your feet till the chain scrapes and her mouth curls.
And she — she wants to look tough. But you both know, like all rebels, that she’s soft. It really wouldn’t have been much trouble to starve this outta you — it’s what you’d do — but oh how the rebels must insist on being ‘better’ than your evil empire.
Boo-hoo. Tough shit, soft girl.
“It’s a sample,” she cracks. “Right?”
“644 files,” you slip to her. “Production specs for a bunch of small arms. Coordinates on some factories, listening posts, and more. Full run-down for all our mechanised stuff: tanks and mechs both, got ya some fighters, think I might’ve snagged a battleship?” You beam at each one, like it’s a bigger and bigger laser cannon under the christmas tree.
“And it’s all locked,” the rebel spits, sends a glob of something tobacco-infused to the damp concrete floor. “You tell us how to access it and things’ll look better for you.”
But presents aren't supposed to be unwrapped before the special day.
“One file each day, at noon,” you offer, smooth poison on a sunlit tongue, and twirl about on the spot; brush her with your shoulder, and take it slow as you settle invitingly on the bed.
“But,” which she was waiting for, “after I get something sweet.”
And blow a kiss.
Her gaze narrows into a hand-sharpened AM round, drives it through the temptatious pose in her mind, and steps across the line. Your eyes can’t grow wide in time, as she leers closer than she ever let herself when she was ‘safe’ behind it. Not that she ever wasn’t, as hand-over-shoulder well demonstrates the sheer muscle she has on you.
You figure those AM-rifles must weigh a fuck-ton — the ones that would’ve shredded you into a fizzing pile of crimson goo, if she bothered to aim better than precisely the knee-joint.
“Y’know — doesn’t have to be much,” you blubber out, trying to shuffle back in measured graduations, so you don’t bob-up into her.
But she follows, leans long over the slim bench.
“W-we could start with a chocolate bar, maybe? It’s been a while. O-or like—”
Your chin’s in her hand. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to press the back of your head to the wall — and tell you not to move. She rotates you up, slowly, to meet her.
Does it firmer when you shirk from her without thought.
“Hmm,” she smirks. “Something sweet?”
She slips to your cheeks, both of them — squeezes. You can feel she’s waiting on an answer and there’s only one direction you can move.
You nod, throat choked on your own bluff.
Mwah.
It’s just a peck — but the rebels are soft, and it’s all she needs to bloom you hotter than the skull-white sun you fell under. You try to shake it off; mutter breathlessly, “delta28Kinross…
It’s a— detention facility… isolated… low guard.”
That was a precious, familiar file. Should’ve been bartered for more.
She smiles, treads back over her line, looking forward to tomorrow.
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(Masterpost) / (Next)
originally written 22/08/2024 on cohost, in response to Making-up-Mech-Pilots’ prompt:
Mech Pilot with a COINTELPRO collection.
for additional context, this is one of the stories i wrote originally as a DM to my gf. i included this follow-up from our DMs on cohost:
"imagining that just heating up more and more and more every day, empire spilling more files at a time till in a moment of total submission gives them all, and after just has this terrified look of having given up all her leverage, before she's comforted."
bc i like imagining happy endings a lot heehee <3
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Eternity Will Bring You Near - Chapter 3
Masterlist
Summary:
Wade understood that Logan was from a world where Alpha, Beta and Omega were everyday terms, not exclusive to red-pilled incel fuckheads who kept inventing new performative male genders. Wade would’ve been classified as a Beta. Logan, however, was an Alpha - Wade’s read enough fanfiction and yaoi manga to know what that means. Though it doesn’t explain why Logan keeps sniffing him.
Pairing: Alpha!Worst Wolverine/Deadpool Genre: A/B/O, Smut, Domestic-ish Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Scent kink, Praise kink, Biting, Blow Job, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Orgasm Denial, Feral-ish Logan. Let me know if there's any I missed.
Beginning Note: Sorry for the delay folks, when I started writing this chapter I got ill, then just as I recovered the school holidays ended and it was time for me to go back to work AND THEN I got a fucking migraine that lasted FOUR DAYS! I've altered Logan's dialogue so he has a more defined voice. As like last chapter, I'm sorry for any mistakes, I'll no doubt find them over the next week or so. Again I didn't want to subject my partner to my smut writing.
Cross posted to AO3
Logan sat on his bed, tossing a little spherical gadget from one hand to the other in consideration. Wade had somehow strong armed Hank into making the zone isolation device. He shuddered at the thought of what kind of blackmail the merc had on Beast. It had been finished in time for the patchwork family to move into a rather spacious four bed apartment. And it had come in handy a few times already as Wade was making full use of having privacy and an en-suite. Though despite all their… activities Wade had still been apprehensive about going all the way. Logan wasn’t surprised he was intimidated so they took things at his pace. He wished that he had all the time in the world to break Wade in, however, he could feel the restless itch under his skin.
Rut was approaching.
He had completely lost track of it. Of course, he had no suppressants to deal with it because, as he’s come to know through living with the merc, Wade’s executive dysfunction was atrocious. He had no one but himself to blame for leaving the task up to the ADHD asshole. Which left him in his current predicament – how to deal with it. He didn’t want Wade to feel obligated to help him. It wouldn’t exactly be a walk in the park for the man. So what did that leave him with? Shut himself in the spare room with this device and try to wait it out with herculean restraint? Didn’t seem feasible with how Wade’s sweet scent had been a lot stronger lately, less of an undercurrent and more of the main note. It was like he was perpetually horny or something. Should Logan find a cabin in the woods somewhere so he’s away from temptation? Who knew what trouble Wade would land himself in with his absence. Either way, booking the time off work on such short notice was going to be a nightmare.
Logan stood with a growl, features set in a scowl, and placed the device back in it’s stand on top of Wade’s bedside table. It’s not on his due to the amount of desk lamps that had been victim to his nightmares (and sometimes orgasms, folks. Peanut has claws when he’s very happy too but you already knew that). There wouldn’t be a replacement for the gadget so it remained on Wade’s side. He had about three days to get this shit figured out if his usual cycle was to be accounted for. Jesus, he was going to have to discuss it with Wade, wasn’t he? He needed a smoke.
He left the bedroom and made his way to the fire escape outside the hallway window. He wasn’t allowed to smoke inside the apartment building so he had set up a little smoking area out there. Fuck walking up to the roof every time he needed a cig. Which was more frequent since Wade replaced all the alcohol in their home with Dr Pepper, a drink that seemed to be his new addiction after he cut out cocaine for “our darling daughters’ sakes”. Althea had also been cut off as collateral, the poor woman was experiencing withdrawal the likes he’d never seen before. He picked a cigar from the box which was situated on the window ledge, lit it and took a drag.
Laura was currently attending evening classes at one of the local high-schools as the girl didn’t exactly get a formal education. The older mutant had wanted to send her to Westchester as a day student but Wade adamantly disagreed. He wouldn’t open up as to why but Laura had also agreed not going was for the best. The two of them shared conversations in Spanish which frustrated Logan to no end because they knew he didn’t understand the language. Those two knew something he didn’t and the scent of unease from them whenever it was bought up really perturbed him.
Wade should be home any minute now. As improbable as it seemed to Logan, the merc could in fact hold down a nine-to-five job as much as he seemed to loathe the dealership. Speak of the devil, the jangling of keys being slid into the lock alerted Logan to his… partner’s(?) return. He could smell Wade’s sweetness over the cigar smoke despite the distance. Something had got the man going it seemed. A bloodied Wade strutted through into the apartment, his clothes all askew but a triumphant smile on his face. At least the blood didn’t smell like his. So whatever happened, Wade hadn’t been the one to get hurt. The older mutant couldn’t help the fond quirk of his lips at that realisation. When he spotted Logan out through the window, he sauntered over and ambled through. Wade took the cigar from between his lips and gave him a quick peck, taking a drag before placing it right where it belonged.
“How was your shift at the workshop?” Wade asked, leaning against the side rail.
“Still have clients confusing me with Howlett,” Logan grunted in response, “Doesn’t help that I’m still not used to being called James-”
“Or that your name badge on those cute oversized overalls of yours says Logan,” Wade interrupted with a teasing grin.
Logan rolled his eyes and waved his hand from Wade’s head downwards, “What’s with the blood?”
“Came across some fuckheads trying to kidnap some boy. No older than elementary school age I’d wager. Lucky for him, I always have Baby Knife on me. Unlucky for them though. One has his organs spilling in some alleyway now dying slowly, the others had a much quicker end.” Wade unsheathed Baby Knife from God knows where and started stabbing and slicing at thin air as he spoke. He seemed… happy. Excited even. Logan hadn’t seen so much life in Wade (outside the bedroom) since he resumed work. It looked good on him. “I think I might quit the dealership and go back to mercenary work. For the right price and only those who are deserving, of course.”
“Anything to get y’to stop wearing that God awful toupee,” Logan taunted, reaching to pluck the staples out of Wade’s scalp to remove the affront to his eyes. “How soon can y’quit?”
“It’s a hair system you insensitive cunt. Because the author is British I can get away with saying that. And its courtesy to give two weeks notice, but when have I ever cared about corporate bureaucracy bullshit. I can quit tomorrow.” Wade shrugged.
“Good… good. There’s, uh, something I need to talk to y’about-”
“If you’re breaking up with me you could have told me before I kissed you.”
“What? No. I’m not breaking up with y’moron. I’m going to be going into Rut soon. Usually lasts about a week, was thinking of shutting myself away for that time. I need y’to be on y’best behaviour.”
Wade cocked his head to the side, would-be-brows furrowed and a tinge of bitter bewilderment wafting over, “Wouldn’t… wouldn’t you want me to join you?”
Logan heaved a sigh, took his cigar in one hand and rubbed his face with the other, “Yes I would like y’to join me. But I know y’not mentally ready for what that entails and I don’t want y’to feel pressured.”
“But I’ve been getting specialist training from a Wolvie who has exceedingly talented fingers. I’m ready.” Wade waggled his brows at the older man.
“Ready for a week straight of getting y’ass railed?”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time. Actually do. That’ll really get me in the mood.”
“There’d be little to no breaks except for food, water and bathroom.” Logan warned.
“Honey Badger, for my mug to resemble a shaved ballsack I had to be tortured – while terminally ill – for a month straight. Got pressure washed while buck naked; used as a punching bag by a big buff bitch with super strength, electrocuted, held under some sort of oily shit repeatedly, sealed in an ice bath until my lips turned purple and the coup de gras: locked in an oxygen deprivation tank over the course of two days where I was bought to the point of suffocation again and again but never given the sweet reprieve of unconsciousness.” Wade mimed out his experiences, seemingly not noticing Logan’s very concerned look. “If that didn’t prepare me for a week of fucking a sexy Alpha, then that fight in the Odyssey certainly did.”
Wade’s ability to casually trauma dump as a joke would never cease taking Logan by surprise. Sure, he had heard some people deal with it through humour but to that extent? No that didn’t seem normal.
“It’ll be intense but Jesus fuck, I’m not going to torture y’, Wilson.”
“Oh, last name that means you’re serious. Look I was just trying to say I can take anything you give me.” Wade bought his hand up to rest on Logan’s bicep, squeezing gently to try and comfort.
Logan growled, “Are y’sure it’s what you want?”
“Yes! How many ways can I say it? The author is running out! Give Belmounte (read: Belmont) a break and just accept my company already. I’m ready to graduate to the danger cucumber.”
Logan couldn’t help but laugh at Wade’s ridiculous euphemism, slouching back against the rails and blowing smoke, “Fine, I need to get a few things sorted out first but we’ll be heading off in three days.”
“Heading off? But we have the Sound Bubble-inator.” He made a round shape with his hands.
“My instincts will be running wild. I’d rather not risk anyone getting caught in the cross fire.”
Wade’s mouth dropped into an ‘O’ as he nodded. In a rare case, the younger man opted to not continue that path of conversation. Instead he chose to prattle on about his day at work and how he was very close to convincing Peter to just give them a Honda Odyssey. They passed the cigar between them, Logan grunting every now and again at points to show he was still listening. Once the cigar was finished, the remains were stubbed out and flicked off into the trash below.
They climbed back into the apartment. Logan got started on making dinner while Wade joined Althea on the sofa who had been listening to the radio. Sure, Wade had the ability to cook, in fact he was a pretty good one but Logan’s instincts were nagging him to provide and show off desirable skills. Something that he hadn’t experienced in a while, not since… The alcohol and suppressants had done their job in numbing him and now he was sans both.
Alright alright alright, my turn! We’ve spent one-thousand-and-sixty-three words on Logan’s introspection. I’m trying not to be offended by the fact you started without me. I’ll put that down to poor decision making due to your illness. Time to give the people what they paid for in souls as well as blood and virgin sacrifices – me.
Wade, I know asking you not to be sassy is a lot for you, but please my brain is barely functioning. Let me write.
Ah, my bad. Take your time. Let those meds fuel you.
Thank you.
That evening, Wade sent Peter a text:
[Yo Sugar Bear, I’m gonna be quitting tomorrow. Think you could swing me that Honda as a leaving prezzie?]
[Going back to the suit? Always knew you would.]
Oh you should have seen the look on his manager’s face when he handed them a used napkin with ‘I QUIT’ scribbled in Neon Pink crayon with unicorns doodled around it. He had skipped out of that office as they shouted for him to come back. Peter had almost handed his notice in too but Wade had argued he needed the steady income if he was going to sustain a relationship with his wife and B-15. Yeah, a lot of people forgot Peter was married in the second Deadpool film. And that he was a bee keeper. Shame on you for forgetting. Anyway, Wade left DriveMax in a brand new second-hand Honda Odyssey that day. Just in time for Logan’s little get away he was planning.
The following days were a hectic blur of making sure everything would be okay in their absence. A large scale shop was done to make sure Laura, Blind Al and Mary Puppins would have enough food and the basics of other household necessities. Vanessa had agreed to check in on the girls in the evenings. A walking schedule was devised for Mary as well as a shit duty rota. And the packing! My God, trying to get a moment away from Logan so he could pack some secret surprises into his Hello Kitty duffle bag was an unexpected challenge.
The afternoon before Logan’s rut was predicted to start, the older man had corralled Wade out the door with a hurried farewells to the apartment’s other occupants. Apparently they would be driving through the afternoon and into the late evening to whatever location Logan had planned; who had called his boss that morning claiming a family emergency and that he would be out of town for just over a week whilst things get sorted. Small businesses like independent mechanic workshops can be hit or miss about things like sickness and emergencies, luckily for them – this one was a hit. And so into the Honda they went, with Logan driving of course, on a journey to some mysterious place where they hopefully won’t be disturbed. RIP to whatever poor soul stumbled upon them if Logan had decided on camping.
Eight hours.
Eight fucking hours of being sat in that car.
Obviously there were pit-stops to piss and eat but by Marvel Jesus, Wade could not stand long car journeys. You saw how he was in the Void. Imagine that but worse. He couldn’t keep still for the life of him. However, Logan had seemingly planned for this as he took the first traffic light as an opportunity to reach over and open the passenger glove compartment and hand Wade a Nintendo Switch. So the old dog did know about modern tech. Though arguably some might not consider the Switch to be ‘modern’ as it was now eight years old. Outdated in today’s world of extreme consumerism. Anyway, he must have stashed it in there the night before, which would explain why Wade had not been able to find it. But with it being just a Switch and not an OLED (God he hated half step releases, they reeked of money grabbing) the battery only lasted about four hours before it died. That was why he was ever so glad for smartphones and their doom scrolling time sinks.
Another hour and a half later, he was genuinely surprised when Canadian boarder patrol asked for their passports. Wade had turned to Logan in shock, jaw hanging open and eyes wide.
“Your taking us back to the motherland?” Wade squealed. Fucking squealed like a girl excited to receive flowers on prom night.
The fucker just gave him a crocked smile and handed their Canadian passports over to the officer who had been staring at the merc. Which didn’t go unnoticed by the pair.
“Do you often stare at injured veterans?” Wade reprimanded, glaring at the officer who quickly looked over their passports and handed them back.
“S-sorry, sir. W-welcome back,” the man stuttered with a salute before stepping back to let them through.
“Asshole,” Logan muttered, as he drove by. His hand reached for Wade’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. It remained for the rest of the journey unless Logan had to change gears.
It would be another two and a half hours until Logan pulled up in front of a lone rustic looking log cabin surrounded by golden woodland that occupied one of the shorelines of Lac Chapleau in Quebec. It was dark outside, almost pitch black. Stepping out of the car, the autumn chill greeted him as Wade stretched and joints popped in satisfying release from being cooped up for so long. Mid back stretch, he was distracted by the sheer beauty of the sky as his spine bowed backwards. How long had it been since he had last seen the stars? Had he ever even seen the glory of the Milky Way before? Like iridescent glitter and metallic purple watercolour on black card framing the full moon. Or Van Gogh’s Starry Night. This must have been what the skies looked like back then. Wade turned to look out onto the calm waters of the lake, a mirror reflecting the star-field above.
Putting those Poetry modules you did in uni to good use I see.
Well, Prose Poetry was my highest marked piece and I was the only one in my class who tackled it after the lecturer said it was hard.
Finally! Some confidence from you.
“Y’okay, Bub? You’ve been staring at the lake all quiet while I’ve unloaded the car.” Logan asked, concern lacing his voice as he place a hand on Wade’s shoulder.
“I was considering skinny dipping in it with you. But that’s too much like the lead up to Edward and Bella’s first sexy time in Breaking Dawn part one.” The merc’s nose scrunched up in distaste. No way was he ever going to replicate that dumpster fire.
Logan turned Wade to face him, scowling utterly confused, “The fuck are y’on about?”
“You know, the Twilight Saga? Team Edward vs Team Jacob? The pentalogy of sparkly vampire films? Teenage girls fantasising about Robert Pattinson and his airbrushed abs that caused him body dysmorphia?” Logan stared at him, still scowling but eyes blank. Not even a hint of recognition in those caramel pools of his. “Come on, it started off as a book series dreamt up by a sexually repressed mormon woman and was really popular in the late naughties early tens.”
“Never heard of it. If it was that popular the girls would have told me about it.” Logan deadpanned.
Oh. Yeah. He would have been at the mansion then. So if Kitty, Rogue or Jubilee didn’t watch it then-
“Holy shit! Your universe doesn’t have Twilight! Maybe that’s where your timeline started to go tits up. Either Stephanie Meyer got the dicking down of her life before she could have wet vampire dreams about Henry Cavil or she was hit by a bus.”
Logan rolled his eyes and walked past Wade towards the lake, shrugging off his leather jacket and pulling his t-shirt over his head. When he realised the younger man wasn’t following him, he glanced over his shoulder at him.
“We doing this or what, Princess?”
Wade was quick to follow suit, stripping off as he jogged after Logan, stumbling when he tried to hurriedly fling off his shoes and shuck his bottoms. Logan, on the other hand, was in no such rush by the looks of it. He took his time to remove the layers that covered his lower half to create a tantalising trail to the water’s edge, where he stood waiting for his companion in all his naked glory, haloed by moonlight. God what a sight. Wade swore he would never get used to it. Sure he had been down bad for Logan’s rippling cumgutter abs but this, with his hard angles mellowed out into soft curves – nourished and flourishing like well maintained garden – nothing could compare. These past few months had certainly been kind to the older mutant and Wade was certainly appreciating the view as his cock twitched in interest.
Wade blinked a couple times and shook his head, now was not the time to get distracted. Stupid unmedicated ADHD. Once he joined Logan, they waded (hehe) into the lake. Wade yelped at the initial caress of nippy freshwater, the brisk autumn night air doing nothing to help him acclimate and everything to send his balls rocketing upwards into himself. Logan chuckled and dragged Wade further into the water with a playful smile until they were chest deep.
Wade shuddered as his body heat was leached out, teeth chattering. “O-o-okay, thi-this wwwwasn’t my f-f-finest idea.”
Logan – that furry fuck – seemed utterly unbothered by the water’s lack of warmth. Probably a part of his mutation.
He drew Wade into him, wrapping his arms around the other’s slim waist as they faced each other, “What’s the matter Darlin’, water too cold? A little hypothermia won’t kill y’.”
Wade plastered himself to Logan, trying to absorb his warmth and eliminate any space that would prevent that, “I-it’d k-k-kill the mmmmood.”
Logan hummed in agreement which Wade felt vibrate in his chest, nuzzling a textured scarred cheek with his nose, “We can’t have that now, can we?”
Not waiting for a response, comparably fervid lips captured Wade’s frigid ones. The was no urgency behind it as Logan’s hands travelled, caressing and coaxing warmth wherever they lingered. Wade’s fingers weaved and tangled into Logan’s hair, which had also grown out a bit to create extra fluffy tufts he loved to tug. Especially in these situations. Hands on his thighs lifted him, making him squeal and wrap his legs around Logan to settle on his hips. He could feel Lil Logan already at half mast against his ass. Ever the tease, Wade ground against him. Logan growled in response and nipped at his lower lip, his hands travelled upwards to cup and squeeze Wade’s rump. Wade laved at the seam of Logan’s mouth, seeking and gaining entry with a breathy whine.
And then they were moving, the inky waters receding as Logan sauntered out from it’s depths. Wade broke away, panting for breath. His hands flew to Logan’s shoulders, nails biting into the skin there and he clung to him. Moans spilled from his lips as every stride caused his cock to rub deliciously against the other man’s stomach and Logan’s now fully hardened member to thrust into the cleft of his ass. He buried his face in Logan’s neck, mouth watering at the scent of pine trees, cigars, sandalwood and something musky that was distinctly him. Maybe it was sharing a room or just how much time Wade spent trying to be as close as possible to the older mutant but it had become unmistakable – Wade could smell him. And he liked it. It gave him the warm fuzzies. Fuck, it made him feel safe. Like Logan was home. Wade mouthed at Logan’s throat, tongue catching the sweat forming there, he felt Logan’s grip on him tighten and his pleased rumble.
The door clicked open and slammed shut behind them, wet feet padding against hardwood floors until Logan reached his destination. He sat at the foot of the bed, hands coming to rest at Wade’s hips. Wade unwrapped his legs from around the Alpha to comfortably cage him between them instead.
“Lean back for me, Princess. Let me get a good look at y’.” Logan murmured into his ear, an involuntary shiver ran down Wade’s spine.
Wade immediately braced himself on Logan’s thighs, back arching slighting to put his chest on display like he had done many times before now to the point it was almost instinctual. Heat spread up his neck and into his cheeks. Wade bit back any self depreciating comments and the need to hide himself, already knowing that doing so would have him over Logan’s lap with stinging ass cheeks and a denied release. And as much as Wade loved those moments, he did not have the patience for it at that moment.
“That’s my good boy.” Logan purred appreciatively, eyes roving over the offering before him.
Pre leaked from Wade’s tip like a broken faucet at the praise. One of Logan’s hands traced a path up from his hip to his chest to thumb over a hardened nipple. Wade jolted at the sensation because somehow Logan had actually trained his nipples into being more sensitive and he swore they had gotten a little bigger too. That fucker must’ve had some sort of healing factor override cheat code or something. Wade hadn’t realised his eyes had fallen shut until a sudden heat enveloped his other nipple and he keened at Logan’s tongue flicking over the nub. And when those fangs scraped over the delicate skin there, Wade rutted desperately against him.
“Fuck. Logan. Need you. Hurry the fuck up.” Wade moaned wantonly.
The Alpha grumbled but acquiesced to the demand with a tap to Wade’s thigh. Wade shuffled off him and watched as Logan got up and unzipped a backpack to search through it. Once he had located what he wanted – lube – he returned to the bed but settled closer to the headboard.
“C’mere, Bubba.”
Wade crawled up the bed and sat on his knees beside Logan who sat back slightly reclined, “How do you want me?”
Logan gave him a crooked grin and manhandled the slightly taller man into position over him, scarred cock level with his face, “Right here.”
Without waiting for Wade’s response, Logan lapped up the trail of precum that was still leaking from Wade’s tip.
“Oh fuck!” Wade cried out, bucking forward and grasping onto the headboard. “Give a gal some warning, Honey Badger.”
Logan chortled and continued to lave at Wade’s dick, tracing scars and veins alike as it twitched under his attentions. Logan’s tongue had a roughness to it that most people probably wouldn’t like. But Wade wasn’t most people and that wet muscle had a way of catching on places that had him gasping and whimpering like a bitch. The only warning Logan gave him before swallowing his length was a lap at his slit, then his tongue flattened and he was taking him down to the base. The wooden bed frame protested under Wade’s grip as he fought the urge to thrust into the inviting heat. Logan hummed in approval as he set to work bobbing his head and Wade cussed, moaning and shuddering, as the sensation went right through him.
A slick finger circled Wade’s rim before slowly pushing in and began thrusting. Wade stiffened, torn between trying to stay still, rutting into the heavenly wet warmth of Logan’s mouth or grinding back into the finger working him open. Make that fingers as a second one soon joined the first and started scissoring him open. This bit always stung slightly but Wade was a sucker for a bit of pain with his pleasure. As if sensing his thoughts, Logan lightly bit down on the cock in his mouth, fangs digging in and drawing droplets of blood that made Wade mewl while Logan groan beneath him. It wasn’t much longer till he was loose enough for a third finger to slip in. Wade hissed at the intrusion which melted into a moan when Logan struck his prostate with targetted precision.
“Holy shit, there! Right there!”
Logan smiled around his cock, never once missing the sensitive bundle once he had found it. And with that, Wade’s restraint crumbled, his hips rocking back onto the Alpha’s thick fingers and forwards into his throat. Logan choked around him at the unexpected motion. The sudden tightening had Wade right on the precipice of climax, heat roiling low in his stomach. Once. Twice. Thr- Wade choked back a sob as the hand on his hip swiftly gripped his cock like a vice, the heat of Logan’s mouth removed in favour of sucking marks into the diverts of his abs.
“Not yet. Y’d been doing so well. Y’ll cum on my cock like a good little Omega.” Logan growled out, voice low and rough, “I want y’to ride me while I can still be nice.”
Someone call a plumber because as if his cock couldn’t get any wetter, Wade swore to god he felt his hole become slicker around Logan’s fingers like he was an actual Omega. But that wasn’t possible so it was probably just his imagination.
“Fuck- Sure. Yeah. Get comfy then. Gonna rock your world, old man.”
Logan pulled his fingers out to swat his ass. Again, Wade clambered off him to let him reposition. When he was led down and settled, Wade grabbed the lube, squirting a liberal amount into his hand. He threw his leg over Logan and reached his lubed hand beneath him to spread it onto Logan’s neglected dick. It twitched in his grip as Logan groaned at the contact. Wade gave him a few quick pumps to watch him squirm and make sure he was all slicked up then lined him up with his hole. He knew he had it right when he felt the bulbous tip catch his rim. Slowly, Wade sunk down onto Logan’s length, breath catching in his throat at the burning stretch. No amount of fingering could ever have truly prepared him for just how thick Logan was. Beneath him, Logan had gone rigid, jaw clenched tight and white-knuckling the sheets as it was his turn to show restraint, to let Wade set the pace. His pupils were blown wide, eyes never leaving from where they were connected. Low grunts and groans escaping him with every shallow thrust Wade made to work his way down.
“Logan, please I need- please you have to-” Wade whined, desperately needing something to take the edge of.
Logan understood what Wade was trying to say. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around Wade’s cock, thumbing at the slit to spread the precum there. Wade moaned softly and Logan seemed to take that as the okay to do two things. First, to start stroking Wade’s cock in time with his rocking. Second, to bend his knees so his feet were flat on the bed so he could better angle his hips. Wade choked out a cry as Logan’s cock rubbed against his prostate.
“Jesus! H-how are you s-so good at finding the on switch?”
Logan huffed out a laugh, “When you been around for two hundred years, you learn a thing or two.”
The duel sensations were pleasurably distracting enough that Wade was able to take in more and more with each roll of his hips. And when his ass became flush with Logan’s thighs he stilled. Fuck he was so full. Taking a moment to catch his breathe and get used to the feeling of an actual dick being inside him. He could feel Logan warm and twitching. Very different from the solid, cold, unyielding silicone of a strap. Logan’s hand fell away from Wade’s cock to fist the sheets again.
“Fuck, Princess, y’re so fucking tight.” Logan grunted.
“Am I tight or is your monster cock just stretching me to capacity?” Wade giggled.
Logan’s hands flew up to Wade’s waist, gripping it tightly as he bucked up beneath him punching a breathy ah from him.
“Fuckin’ hell. Don’t- Don’t laugh when I’m in y’.”
Wade leant forwards, bracing his hands on Logan’s pecs to experimentally roll his hips again. Both men groaned at the sensation. Didn’t burn any more, just a tolerable sting. Easily ignored if Logan’s cock kept abusing his prostate like that. With that in mind, Wade began to bounce on the cock impaling him in earnest. Wanton mewls and keening whines tumbled from Wade’s lips, each cant of his hips sending ripples of bliss up his spine and into his cock that slapped against his stomach with every motion. Logan looked tortured beneath him, still trying not to move, his eyes squeezed shut and his head kicked back, exposing a rather appetising vein in his neck.
The problem of being a first time dick rider was the lack of endurance. You see, riding uses different leg muscles to ploughing, or at the very least uses them differently. Wade’s thighs were already throbbing and sore from exertion. But he couldn’t throw in the towel yet. He switched between bouncing, rolling and swivelling his hips, drawing a symphony of groans, grunts and growls from the man beneath him. Felt his nails break the skin where he clutched at him. How much longer would it take for his resolve to break?
“Not much of an hahAlpha are ya? Just laying there mhm taking what I give you,” Wade taunted, chest heaving.
Logan’s eyes snapped open, glaring at the man currently literally and metaphorically riding his dick. He snarled as he batted Wade’s arms off him, sending him tumbling into him. He hastily rolled them over, pinning Wade beneath him and hooking one of his legs over his shoulder. Thank fuck this was a Queen size bed.
“Y’asked for it y’fuckin brat,” Logan warned.
He pulled out until just the tip remained then thrust back into the hilt, Wade arched his back trying to meet him thrust for thrust. God it was so worth teasing him and he was thankful for his flexibility as it meant he could pull Logan down into a heated kiss whilst being bent in half. Each of Logan’s ruts was met with a buck from Wade, falling into a rhythm that had them panting into each others mouths. A particularly hard thrust had Wade clawing at his back, heat pooling low in his gut yet again. He tried to reach between them to jerk himself off but his hand was slapped away.
“PleasePleasePlease let me hah cum. Need to cum. Fuck!” Wade begged.
Logan smirked down at him not stopping or slowing, “What did I say?” he demanded.
“To- hng to be a good Omega and c- ah cum on your cock,” Wade responded weakly, yelping when Logan tweaked one of his nipples.
“So what are y’gonna do?”
“B-be good and ah cum on my Alpha’s-”
Logan’s eyes glazed over, nostrils flaring as he suddenly bore down on him, sinking his teeth into the meat of Wade’s neck. Wade screamed as he came, pain and pleasure dancing through his veins to creating an intoxicatingly raw delirium. Tears running unbidden as his body writhed. Logan clamped down harder, growling as he seemed to enter a frenzy, setting a brutal pace that would’ve been sure to break anyone else. Oversensitivity was fast making itself known to Wade, his hole clenching around Logan’s cock with each pass of his prostate.
“C’mon Pean-uh-t, cum inside me. Knock me up with ah whole litter of Wolvies.”
That did it. Logan stilled above him, cock buried deep and shooting into him in spurts. Every now and then Logan would go to pull out only to push back in, more warmth covering his insides. How much could he fucking cum? And Christ on a bike, this was without knotting. Eventually, Logan released him from between his jaws and let his leg slide off his shoulder. Wade idly played with his hair as he waited for the Alpha to calm down.
“So, my Honey Badger has a thing for breeding ey? I’ll keep that in mind.”
Logan heaved a sigh and finally rolled off him, “You stay here, I’m gonna grab our clothes then get something to clean you up with.”
He made his way off the bed and towards the door.
“I thought you said there’d be no breaks.”
Logan shot him a grin, “Oh we’re just getting started, Princess. The real fun begins tomorrow.”
Finally! We arrived at PoundTown via the penetration express! I’d like to thank everyone who made this possible: The virgins who were sacrificed, the souls that were sold, Satan, my mum-
And I’m feeling better. Only took me like nearly twenty days to write this between illness and being back at work T^T
There, there dear author. You’re nearly done with this chapter.
What do you mean “nearly done”? I’m done here. Nothing more to add to this one.
Oh hell no. You can’t write about Peanut being in rut and not even show us the actual rut!
Fine. You actually made a good point there. Time skip.
Day three of Logan’s rut was interesting. See Wade thought it’d be a waste to be in such a scenic location and not fuck outdoors and under the stars. There was just one problem: a Peanut in rut was a nonverbal Peanut reduced to growling, grunting and purring. Yes, purring. So he couldn’t exactly discuss the idea with the other mutant. Which left him one option. As Logan lay sated on blood and cum stained sheets, Wade grabbed his duffle bag slunk off into the bathroom. Buried near the bottom was the little surprise he put together. Lingerie he had made to resemble his suit – complete with an altered mask which had an accessible mouth hole. Even some stylish chunky heeled boots. He slid the garments on as quickly as possible, he only had a limited amount of time before Logan would try to pin him down again, which was something he was counting on. ‘Geared’ up, Wade mentally went over his plan.
This was going to be fun.
Wade crept out of the bathroom and towards one of the windows, praying to all that was holy that he would successfully get his head start. He held his breathe as he pushed up a window, willing it to remain silent. But the window was a traitorous thing, squeaking in protest as it reached the top to alert Logan’s super hearing. Logan, who was now sat up, hackles raised and on guard for a possible intruder. Seeing that it was only Wade, the somewhat feral Alpha paused, head cocking to the side as he assessed the other man and his choice of clothing. Wade shot him a playful grin and a wave before diving out the window and high tailing it into the surrounding woodland. He dodged and weaved between trees, leapt over roots, logs and shrubbery alike. He had to get as far as possible before-
A roar came from the cabin he had left behind inciting birds to take flight and any other animals in the area to flee. Was that a moose he could see galloping away? Wade’s heart pounded in his chest, he could hear the crackling of dead leaves under foot and sounds of Logan giving chase. His danger boner was raging at the thought of being hunted like prey. He could just make out an ideal clearing for what the Brits called dogging when he was tackled into a tree. There, caging him in, was a naked annoyed growly Logan with fangs bared. Fuck that’s hot. But Wade was here to get fucked, not disembowelled. To placate him, Wade tilted his head to the side exposing the length of his neck.
“Just wanted some fresh air, Wolvie. Not trying to leave. Don’t worry.”
Logan leaned in and nosed at the offered flesh, breathing in deeply before giving a low rumbling purr. His hands landed on scarred thighs, hoisting them up around his waist then travelled back up them to pull Wade’s panties to the side. Wade’s breathe hitched as Logan’s cock slid home inside him, still stretched and full of cum from their previous romp. But it seemed all was not forgiven as Logan tightly gripped his hips and with a snikt released his claws into the poor tree behind them, barely missing Wade himself. If Wade had been caged in before, now he was imprisoned with no escape.
The merc slung his arms around Logan’s neck and let his head fall back against the tree trunk. Logan fucked up into him at a dizzying pace, drawing curses and moans that were cut short as the Alpha took full advantage of the mouth hole to seal his mouth shut with his own. The bark dug into his back, pricking his skin and creating welts across its length as Logan used what little leeway he had to pull Wade down to meet his thrusts. Wade’s legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into his ass to encourage him impossibly closer. Logan angled his hips in just the way Wade was quickly learning to love, the way that had him hammering his on switch till he was a drooling teary mess.
Wade might not have been a natural bottom when this relationship started, but he sure as hell was now.
Oh you cock/clit tease! You’re ending the chapter there?!
Unlike you, I’m not a fictional character and I need to sleep since I have work in the morning.
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here is your reason to talk about emeryk wesninski 👉👈
Emeryk Wesninski my beloved (not really. I also forgot he existed and debated killing him dead again instead of confronting my embarrassing ocs)
If it isn’t obvious he’s intended to be Neil’s brother, which I’m probably gonna skirt around as much as possible due to my own shame lmao
Emeryk Wesninski:
25 years old
he/him
queer idk he’s not gonna sit there long enough to slap a word on it
played striker
was supposed to start on the Ravens lineup with Emiko their freshman year
dropped the sport for academic and familial pursuits (also cause he was not about to major in fucking business)
We’re gonna pretend I know why the hell I decided having an Em (Moriyama) and Em (Wesninski) was a good idea cause I did create them at the same time but honestly? fuck if I know.
Pretending I can do math I think there’s a six year gap between Neil and Emeryk. Or at least it’s around there. So when Mary and Neil went on the run Emeryk was 16 years old and pretty deeply involved in his father’s business. Not that he enjoyed it. He and Mary knew there was a far smaller chance of success survival with three of them instead of two and Neil had the better chance. So he told her to just him and go, with only a little resentment.
Emeryk escapes some of the worst parts of his father’s work through a series of deals with the Moriyama’s, specifically Ichirou. He and Ichirou aren’t far apart in age and now he of course wonders what the hell was doing, but he would rather have indebted himself to Ichirou over Kengo. And he knew one day Ichirou would be in charge, he just didn’t expect it to be quite so soon.
So instead of getting sucked in deeper (to the Wesninski’s business at least), he’s able to somewhat save himself. He enrolls in Edgar Allan University at 18 and doesn’t sign a contract to play with the Ravens. Despite it he and Emiko still become friends and he has some, albeit limited, interaction with Kevin, Riko, and Jean.
He studies criminal justice and goes on to study law. All of it, of course, being put towards working for the Moriyama’s. But at least he’s not actively killing people.
He spends a lot of his time covering up any tracks Mary and Neil leave behind. Whenever he can find them, he knows that means someone else will, and he does his best to remove any sort of paper trail or hint to their existence. Even if it’s just confusing Nathan’s men. Anything that gives them enough time to create a new identity and move.
He’s not exactly happy about it but he does feel like it’s part of what he agreed to years ago. So he lets the resentment build and does it anyway.
And when Neil shows up at Palmetto, seemingly not even trying to be subtle, he is so fucking pissed. Everything’s undone. He can run his mouth and mess things up as much as he wants but he knows it’s only a matter of time.
By the time Baltimore occurs Emeryk is so far removed from the Wesninski’s and so deeply involved with the Moriyama’s that he doesn’t even see it coming. At least not fast enough. When Stuart reaches out to him he reluctantly agrees to work with the FBI, temporarily, to find Nathan.
That’s the first time Neil and Emeryk see each other in years. Emeryk’s pretty sure Neil doesn’t remember half of it, blacked out from pain. And he sure as fuck wasn’t going to stick around to visit him in the hospital. He gets out of there with the intent of talking to the least amount of cops he can.
He forms a bit of a relationship with Neil after that. Mostly “don’t talk to cops”, “seriously get a fucking lawyer”, “have you considered not running your damn mouth?”, and the like. But ultimately he doesn’t give a shit what Neil gets up to. Not his business (though he can’t help but keep a worried eye on him to make sure he’s not getting into too much trouble. He spent too long doing it to stop. And if it has the added benefit of seeing his brother happy and healthy, somewhere he can call home, no one else to needs to know)
While Emeryk didn’t wind up a full blown serial killer he’s still a worse person than like Emiko. He’s very much out to save his own skin. He’ll always go with his best chance of survival. For now that lies with the Moriyama’s. But if a better opportunity ever presented itself he’d take it in a heartbeat.
And idk that’s just a little bit about Em (Wesninski) who I made 4-ish years ago and forgot about until now
#I need to stop digging through my old shit and finding these guys it’s embarrassing#asks#tisaqslur#my ocs#oc: emeryk wesninski#fine since i’m not killing him off again he gets a tag
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🪳🪳🪳
You had been exploring an abandoned building with some friends and decided to separate to cover more ground. you found yourself wondering some tunnels in the basement and the further in you went the more cockroaches you began to find. As you turned one of the corners you froze, dropping your flashlight which now illuminated on a man who had cockroaches crawling all over him and crawling out of his mouth and ears. at the sound, the man slowly turned his head to look at you.
You pick up your flashlight, and stumbled back, scrambling to get out of there. You don't even need to look at the strange man fully, you just know it's a bug monster or whatever it is. You dodged all the crawling cockroaches, and ran out of the tunnels, breathing heavily. As you stumbled away, you heard the man call out to you. He stood to his full 6 foot frame and started to shuffle down one of the tunnels towards you, cockroaches still pouring out of all of his body orifices.
Horrified, you ran even faster, sprinting out of there, thankful of your past running track seasons you took in school. You make quick turns, the memory rushing through as you make your way back to the main room in the basement. The man chases after you, his body covered in cockroaches making him barely recognizable now. he's gaining on you, you can hear the scurrying behind you as he makes quick progress around corners.
Oh shit...holy fucking shit you think to yourself, and take in quick short gasps. dashing through the tunnels, you curse yourself for exploring so far. This... cockroach monster man thing continues to chase after me...why? The roaches pouring from every orifice of his body only serves to fuel your fear and terror. this strange man seems unbothered as he's finally gained on and is now only a few feet away from you. he reaches out and grabs your shirt sleeve pulling you to a stop as if nothing was wrong.
He leans into your ear so close his breath is hot on you. You yelp in terror, and shut your eyes tight as you shiver in his grasp.
"Don't eat me, don't eat me, don't eat me" you pleaded, your body tense and tight, gripping onto your flashlight as tight as you could, as if it would protect you. You squirm as you felt the roaches crawl around you, feeling a bit sick. Despite his appearance, the man's hands are soft to the touch, he holds you gently and strokes your hair as if comforting you. the cockroaches seem to move aside as he strokes your hair. as he finally speaks his voice is soft, comforting, reassuring and most importantly human.
"shh shh, its ok. I'm not going to eat you," in a small act of kindness, he takes the roaches that had climbed to your face and gently drops them onto the floor.
"W-what?" You mutter, slowly opening one eye, and then the other. You stare at the man in confusion and curiosity, but still pretty tense. For a monster with cockroaches...his hands are softer than you'd think. And his voice is... soothing? Unless...he's trying to get you to trust him so that he can eat you later.
Even though his body was covered in roaches, you could tell by his demeanor that he was genuinely trying to reassure you. he even seemed to have picked up on your suspicion as he spoke again.
"No, I would never do that. In fact I would never let anyone harm you, especially not the roaches." as he spoke his voice rang with conviction like a promise.
Flabbergasted, you don't say another word, or even blink. Just stare at him with suspicion and confusion. He slowly pulls back from you, letting go of your shirt sleeve and gestures for you to take the first move. he's even put the bugs away from you so your only concern is him.
"See? I'm not going to eat you nor am I going to let any of the roaches near you," he gives you a gentle smile. You stare at him a bit longer, catching your breath as you take a step back to take a better look at him.
"Then why did you chase me?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.
“well I didn't want you running away. you might step on one and hurt them. they may look gross to you but they're like children to me. I need to make sure they are alright when someone invades their home” he explained his tone still so soft and kind. his hands remained by his sides and his shoulders were relaxed. “I'm sorry if I frightened you”
"I would never step on them- no offense, but they are kinda gross" you confronted, and loosen your tense body a bit, but still won't let your guard down.
the man chuckles to himself "I know they are and I don't take offense to that. They're just my pets.” he laughs again. "So I guess in a sense this place is my home too, and I can't have you snooping and getting hurt now can I?" His smile remains as his brown eyes are locked with yours.
"Uhm....I guess so..." You raised a brow, and your eyes stare back into his. Surprisingly his eyes aren't like the dead color you thought it would be. "I think my friends are calling, I gotta go" you said, making up an excuse to leave as it turned around.
the man didn't try to stop you instead he just nods and walks back the way he came. all the roaches that were following you had already scuttled off to him. You could hear him call out one statement as you left.
"It was nice to meet you again"
"Uh...yeah, you too" I called back, and left the tunnels, back into the main room in the basement. as you emerged you could see your friends standing there nervously waiting for you.
“oh thank god, where the hell were you?” the largest of the group yelled out.
"In one of the tunnels...I think we should get out of here" you said, ushering your friends out of the abandoned building. "There's not much here anyway" you added, looking back once more, knowing that you were probably making the best decision of leaving.
"Fine but next time you go and get lost we're leaving you." the big guy says with a smirk as they all make for the exit. as you're leaving you notice that the man you encountered is just standing alone on the other side of the room. he seems like a different person now, as if the roaches were just a mask he was wearing. he waves to you and gives one last soft smile.
#what did he mean by again?#roach cod#gary roach sanderson#gary sanderson#roach x reader#roach call of duty#monster Gary Roach Sanderson
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south park body headcanons (im imagining late teens/20s here) - agree or disagree?
stan: 5’10”. stocky, not fat but not super muscular, although it would be easy for him to put on muscle if he wanted to. just doesn’t prioritize it over his creative stuff. strong biceps and shoulders but he got that beer gut. love it.
kyle: 6’2”. lean string bean. conventionally thin with a sleeper build, strong arms and visible abs bc he’s more into sports/working out than the others. he goes on 6am runs and does pushups in the morning let’s be real. and i like the thought of him being awkwardly taller then the other 3.
cartman: 5’8”. he is still volumptious! i don’t care what anyone says. that boy will not mature to be a muscle monster alpha. whatevea whateva, he does what he wants! which would be eating lots of kfc and liane’s cooking. and not working it off. terrible team player and has no sportsmanship, he would not be in any sports.
kenny: 5’6”. he’s the shortest because he was malnourished as a child but we love a short king. scrawny but could hold up in a fight, a little muscular from doing random jobs + i think he’d do football or track.
Stan: Agree. He’s got a bit of a tummy but that never hurt anyone. I kinda picture him being built kinda like Pacha from Emperor’s New Groove. Not quite as chubby but you get the picture. He’s solid. If you throw him at a moving truck he’d ricochet off. Randy probably insisted that he ate more ‘rich people food’ which contributed to his broadness, because Randy kept feeding him too much to ‘make him look like a real rich guy’. Hes got the quarterback build. Hes overweight but most of it is because he’s just solid in high school.
Kyle: Agree! Kyle w/sleepers build is now a fav hdc of mine. i feel like he was that one kid as a freshman who was absolutely rail thin because every calorie he ate went to his height instead of his muscles, but then junior year hits and he suddenly starts gaining muscle. He has a very strict workout routine and likes going for morning runs while the sun’s rising. It helps him clear his head. His immediate response to stress is to exercise. He has a ton of random growth spurts and when he’s at the bus stop with the other 3 the summer after 8th grade he just looms over them, lmao-he’s absolutely strong though. Just because he was rail thin as a freshman did not mean he was weak.
Cartman: Absolutely! I hate when people make Cartman suddenly buff, as if he would give up Cheesy Poofs and Butterwich Sabdwixhes He’s still a chubby boy even in his teen years. Hes that one kid who walks the mile in gym because he ‘doesn’t feel like running today’. Whenever his team loses usually because of him he absolutely throws a fit. He hit Kyle in the head with a baseball bat and nearly split his head open in eighth grade because he lost. Hes thrown kickballs in fits of rage and gives no fucks. Whenever he wins you don’t stop hearing it from him for months afterwards. He would never lift a finger to work off all the KFC and Cheesy Poifs he eats. I don’t care what people say. He’s not gonna suddenly have a change of heart and work off all that. It’s not in character for him. Just look at him in “Raising the Bar”.
Kenny: Agree! He probably has scars on his body from doing stupid shit for money. He didn’t have much to go off of, like you said, because he was malnourished as a kid. I do like to think his friends (mainly Butters and Kyle) start noticing Kenny is way thinner than they thought, and start giving him food, so he does eventually have his growth spurt, but he’s definitely not the tallest. His hands and arms are probably really calloused from random jobs he’s picked up. He’s extremely scrappy and could probably kick ass in a fight, even if he’s malnourished. In his teen years his friends start letting him shower at their place. He starts taking better care of his body as well, with the help of his friends. Hes a tiny little thing tho. I don’t see him being gigantic, but he’s not like-elf sized either.
Agree 100% with these!!
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the next big strive patch is coming up, so obviously another round of buffs for gio are in order. at this point she's a very solid character with few glaring weaknesses, but here's some areas still ripe for development:
defense
as it stands, gio's defense is slightly below average. this is probably her weakest aspect currently.
prior to the mid season 3 patch, gio's cartwheel had a frame 1 low profile, which allowed her to wriggle out of oki situations that other characters had to hold, including an awful lot of safejumps. this was kind of absurd, but it also balanced out her 6p being too slow to abare with in many situations where that's the intended play, such as interrupting foudre arc, as well as being difficult to use on reaction generally. in addition, in the prior patch cartwheel had it's moonshot counterhit launch arc removed, so it doesn't lead to combos outside of the corner.
while 6p and cartwheel are underwhelming as defensive options, her p buttons are solid abare at very short ranges, at 4 and 5 frames. however, she lacks any further special considerations that would make her especially slippery
to compensate, here's some options for improving her defense:
take a frame off of something. 5p becomes 3 frames or 2k becomes 5 frames would be my picks.
exaggerate the low profile on 2k. as-is, 2k low profiles a small set of buttons like nago fs, but a more pronounced low profile along the lines of jackie or testament's would let her use it as abare more safely.
give 6p the full low profile faster. gio's 6p has a great hitbox and long activity, but manages to be difficult to use anyway due to how slow the low profile is. presumably this was meant to counterbalance the instant low profile on the old cartwheel, but she doesn't have that anymore, so more standard frame data would be in order.
reduce horizontal blowback on cartwheel. the threat of getting sent into the sun from a successful antiair cartwheel has largely been transferred to chave cartwheel, but this leaves gio with relatively weak punishes. a cartwheel launch that let her follow up more consistently would make her more threatening
make the cs hitbox a bit taller. let her do some millia shit.
combo physics
gio has good combos. however the physics they depend on are capricious at the best of times, and any extended juggles are prone to dropping. at this point a lot of that is down to correctly choosing 214s vs chave 214s, and that's fine, but there's some other wonkiness left over still.
besides tweaking the math behind the curtain, here's some things that might make her combos more reliable:
extend the cs hitbox slightly behind gio, or give it some slight crossup tracking. as-is, she's prone to facing the wrong way after landing from 214s (or in other situations where the opponent passes above her head) and whiffing cs. more consistency here would be huge
extend the hitbox of ventania upwards slightly. midscreen juggle combos tend to leave opponents slightly too high or too far for ventania to connect, which is really frustrating and definitely hasn't lost me multiple tournament sets
offense
giovanna's offense is generally strong, but she still has a few weird weak points
2d is obviously pretty good as an extended poke in neutral, but in pressure it's kind of infuriating. there's a 5 frame gap between 5k/2k and 2d, meaning that it won't catch jumping from any character. tightening this to 3 frames would be a huge help.
all of her specials lose to 6p except a precise frametrap with 214k or 623s. altering any of her regular or chave specials to hit the ground would make her offense much more stable.
chave is bad in pressure. chave specials are good in combos or as oki, but chave itself is a fixed duration spent in counterhit state, and all of the followups lose to fuzzy mashed 6p, so very rarely is it a good idea to fish for chave cartwheel counterhits, for instance. removing the counterhit state on chave or making a special move hit the ground reliably would amend this somewhat
on the same note, currently chave 214k (the roundhouse kick) is borderline unused at any level of play, and probably requires reworking. the intended use is to exit pressure safely against characters it's difficult to rps with after regular 214k, however you never actually want to enter chave rps due to complaints above, so you won't be able to condition opponents into respecting it. it's also basically a punt, which can be useful, but you don't actually want to do that very often, and it's not worth the threat of getting counterhit.
solutions: make some special or chave special hit the ground to codify the rps more. alternatively, give chave 214k an interesting combo property, like high damage, wall or floor bounces, or being a more advantageous ender
give jh slightly more active frames. it's annoying that you can backdash out of her safejumps! every time! for free! make her hit that shit! this, whether big arrow is meaty, and the jumpable gap in 2k/2d would be crushing weaknesses that would send her to bottom tier if people knew!!!!!!! but nobody does??????
insane crackpot bullshit
make air 214s fall to ground level from any height, making it a mobility tool or anti-anti-air similar to something like ram's sildo detruo or a diet tempestade.
give her a unique melty blood throw where she can move forward a short distance to correct for her abnormally short throw range. alternatively, give her a big body throw.
make the frame advantage on her normals better. at launch she was a funny frame data character, but due to power creep, things like a plus on block cs aren't unique anymore. having safer normals would make her stagger pressure much more threatening. I'm thinking p and k buttons are even on block, 2h is no worse than -3, 5h is -4, and 6p is no worse than -5. gio should only be especially vulnerable when going for big gambles.
make regular cartwheel a real reversal.
make 6p a low to strengthen the strike/throw after dash 5k. if that's too dumb, give her a 6k low instead.
give chave guard point. fuck you.
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Unscheduled Update
"You'll be traveling by Warp Train," had been Vergilius' entire explanation before kicking everyone off of the bus. No one seemed bothered by this, but Dante couldn't help but hesitate. They'd spoken to the team's W Corp identities- They had a reason to be concerned. Didn't monsters roam those trains?
They grew even more concerned when Faust stopped them before boarding.
"Faust needs you to wear something, Dante," she stated. When Dante leaned down, she flipped open the panel on the back of their head and plugged something in.
"Consider this mercy, Dante. The last thing Faust needs is you overloading your memory card and brain."
<"Huh? Huh??"> Wasn't this a ten second trip?! If Dante was concerned before, now they were downright terrified.
Don Quixote eventually dragged Dante onto the train, being the only one actually able to catch Dante when they attempted to flee the situation. She was unfortunately Very Fast, and Dante was Not. They continued trying to escape as Faust handed some paperwork to a nearby W Corp employee before boarding the train. Everyone involved completely ignored Heathcliff's repeated attempts to playfully shove Meursault onto the tracks.
Yi Sang lightly patted Dante's shoulder and said something to them, but Dante processed none percent of it in favor of dreading the trip. They could only manage to weakly tick <"Okay…"> in response to whatever Yi Sang had said.
"I shant wait for our due arrival!" Don cheerfully announced, dragging Dante into the waiting train. There was nothing Dante could do to stop her- They had the Captivity debuff and couldn't take action until they were released. Around them, the other Sinners picked seats and sat down with far less concern. It was only a ten second trip, why would seating partners matter?
"Faust has something important to say," Faust plainly stated, turning around in her seat to see the other Sinners, "Faust hopes you are prepared for what is to come."
Well, now Dante felt even Worse™. Whatever was coming was bad enough that it warranted Faust warning not only them, but the other Sinners too. They couldn't help but shudder in their seat.
"Why is my seat glowing?" Sinclair quietly asked.
"What the hell is this glowy shit?" Heathcliff loudly asked.
As general unrest rose among the Sinners, Dante glanced towards their own glowing seat, which soon enough died down. They didn't get to comment on it themselves though- The train began to move.
"Ten seconds!! Count!!" Don exclaimed, and Dante opted to humor her by counting down. When they reached zero, they looked around. The train was still moving. Had they miscounted? How embarrassing for a clock to miscount. Dante opted to try again, pushing the idea of things going wrong out of their mechanical head.
"Thirty seconds now," Meursault stated, preventing Dante from making a third attempt, "We have not arrived."
"We aren't going to for quite a while," Faust stated, standing up from her seat and smoothing out her coat. "It's ten seconds in our world. WARP Corporation uses an alternate dimension. Faust recommends getting up and meeting other passengers. It is going to be quite a while. Faust knows this, of course."
Faust then ignored all other questions and left the train car, leaving the other Sinners scrambling to figure out what was going on. Dante opted to tune the Sinners out in favor of gripping their own head in panic. Dante should have paid more attention to the W Corp identities whenever they spoke to them! Why else would Meursault's W Corp identity speak about personally collecting body pieces?
"M-Manager Esquire, wh-while I am impressed with thy feat of strength, please do release me..!!"
Dante hadn't even realized that they'd started clinging to Don like their life had depended on Don suffocating and immediately released her. Oops.
<"Whatever you do, Don…">
Dante didn't get to finish speaking again, fully due to Don running out in excitement to meet other passengers (and probably start a fight). This needed to stop happening. What kind of Manager doesn't even get to finish their own sentences? At this rate, they wouldn't even be able to finish their own thou--
----
--ghts. One moment everything had been fine, the next there was a large splattering of blood on the wall in front of them. Dante blared in alarm and jumped out their seat, wildly looking around. They hadn't SEEN anything happen, so where had that come from?!
"Faust predicted this as well. Welcome back, Dante."
Dante whipped around (a little too fast) to spot Faust leaning against the opposite wall. She'd been injured in the.. What, past ten minutes? That Dante hadn't been looking, and her hair was a mess.
"Do not attempt rewinding here. That may interfere with W Corp's technology." Before Dante could even consider responding, Faust added "Faust feels it necessary to inform you that it has been a full year."
A brief pause for Dante to numbly nod. A… A whole year? Just like that?
"Faust's device is working as intended. Full prevention of memory card overload. Faust originally wanted you in first-class so that you could sleep though all of this, but your head is incompatible with the pods."
Dante could feel the clock hands starting to spin with their own mounting confusion. There was a time and place to panic and this was not it. This was not it. This was absolut--
----
--ely not it.
<"Wait.">
They were staring at a bloodied ceiling now, the only sounds being the train moving and the dripping of blood. Dante didn't want to look away from the ceiling. If the CEILING was covered in blood, how was the rest of the train car?
"W.B.," Ryoshu hissed from nearby, and Dante couldn't help but jump again. Again with the being startled by someone speaking to them! This was already getting old.
"I have created true art, Dante. P.W.I." (Please Witness It.)
Okay, they were about to see gore.
<"Thanks for the warning,"> they ticked, before turning their head to the side to peep the horror.
It was far more gore than Dante had been prepared to see. A mess of moist entrails and limbs were carefully pinned to the wall and nearby seats, matching a Ryoshu that was primarily a walking mass of fresh meat. The worst part? Everything pinned to the walls and seats were still very much moving. Hands were trying to free themselves and each other from oppressive nails. Organs pulsed rhythmically, glistening in the flickering florescent light. Ryoshu simply grinned. Dante felt their stomach swirling and quickly looked back at the ceiling.
<"Very nice, Ryoshu,"> was all they could manage before needing to repress the urge to vomit- Not that they could. Could the next year come any faster?
----
Apparently, yes. The ceiling was suddenly clean again, and the nausea had subsided like it had never been there to begin with.
<"What this time…?">
Sitting up and looking around, Ryoshu's makeshift art exhibit had vanished and been cleaned up- and so had any other blood and viscera in the train car. A welcome relief, but that managed to only concern Dante more. People had definitely been here and Dante hadn't been aware of it… Had anything happened to them during that time?
Dante very carefully inspected themselves and their clothes. Beyond the dried bloodstains on their uniform, nothing seemed off. Good. That's how they liked it. The little bit of dried blood was tolerable and could be dealt with later. Dante then thought about leaving the train car. They hadn't seen outside of this car yet, but this seemed like the safest place to be. Combined with them repeatedly fainting, it was probably for the best that they stayed put.
They could get used to this. It couldn't be much longer-
----
-Pain pain pain pain pain PAIN!
Dante failed to hold back a blaring scream of agony. This was worse than anything they'd felt before. Even reviving all twelve Sinners from complete annihilation didn't hurt this badly! Fearful, Dante attempted to sit up and look at themselves.
Guts and gore were familiar to Dante, but not… Not their own.
They'd been torn to shreds. Only some of their torso and left arm were still intact. The various organs Dante couldn't name were still moving, even with some of them scattered about the floor. Their own heart started beating faster and faster, speeding up with their own mounting horror.
<"HEEELLLP!!"> Dante screamed, alarms blaring so loudly that it hurt.
They couldn't see it, but they heard a door open. Okay, good, help had arrived…
----
Their vision was suddenly assaulted by all sorts of colors. Something was in front of them, unmoving. The pain had not ceased, either. It had actually gotten Worse in the interim and Dante couldn't help but make a pained whine.
Everything shifted. More colors and oddly enough, chunks of meat. Another shift, and they realized they were being carried. What kind of Abnormality had them?? Where were the Sinners? Smeared on the walls of other train cars, probably. Either way, things were not getting better. It's not getting better! It was now worse!
Dante shuddered, and things painfully shifted yet again. They hurt so badly that they couldn't even process the voices they were hearing. They were dead. They were so, so dead….
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"-Nine, ten!" Don cheerfully counted, and the train came to a stop.
"That wasn't so bad," Sinclair muttered, worming his way out of Rodion's arms. Don turned to Dante to tell them the ride hadn't been so scary, but Dante had either fallen asleep or fainted within those ten seconds.
"Faust figured this was a good time for a system update," Faust stated, calmly reaching around to pull her device out of Dante's head. "My fault."
Several Sinners complained about this, not that Faust really cared. She knew the device had done its purpose, amd she had no intention of explaining its real purpose. Instead, she gave a single order.
"Meursault, could you carry them?"
Without comment, Meursault went and picked up their Manager. No response of any sort. They really were out cold. Meursault took a few moments to consider the best way to carry Dante, extra consideration being given towards their head and neck. In the end, Meursault opted to just carry them in his arms, their head against his upper arm.
"Could you take any longer?" Heathcliff teased, not expecting an answer.
"This is the safest way to carry them in their current state," Meursault began, watching Heathcliff carefully to gauge if he should keep speaking. No negative response, so he proceeded to explain his thought process. It was too late to stop him now.
--------
Dante woke with a start, half-prepared to scream. A sharp inhale and... This was a different ceiling.
Still deep in Panic with negative sanity, Dante flung their arms around whoever it was sitting next to them. A Sinner was alive! Human!!
"Good morning Manager Esquire!!" shouted Don Quixote from her place on Meursault's lap. She thought absolutely nothing of the situation and moved to hug her beloved Manager Esquire. Meursault himself didn't move, currently being held captive by his Manager. He also stayed quiet to let Don Quixote keep yelling.
"It truly hath been a ten second journey! We were tasked with observing thy reaction to thee upping of dates?"
She seemed unsure about that last part, so Meursault took over explaining.
"Faust stated you were given a data update during our trip and that you needed to be watched in case of negative effects. You do not seem well."
Dante stared at them, still shaking. What? What?
<"What? That can't be what that was….">
They ignored Meursault repeating what he'd said. It'd been far too real to just pass off as a side effect from some update. Anyway, Faust had never given them an "update" before!
<"Faust said it was to stop my head from getting fried…. And that if I'd b-been in first class, it wouldn't have worked right…">
The slight stutter in their ticking betrayed how scared they still were.
"Correct."
Faust had leaned into the room, her face neutral as always. Dante whipped their head around to look at her so fast it hurt their neck.
"Your current head did not play well with the Warp Train. You are unharmed and the Sinners are unharmed."
Dante didn't respond to that. They knew what they saw. They knew what Faust had said thirty seconds into the trip. But did Faust?
Perhaps not. They'd have to ask the W Corp identities more questions later. More detailed questions. Perhaps they could try asking that poor W-Corp employee Abnormality the next time they saw it. It couldn't hurt to try.
"I do believe we shalt use this Warp Train again!" Don Quixote announced cheerfully, and Dante couldn't help but immediately blare that they refused. Absolutely not! Never again!
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