#will always be Mary from Saved!

[pure-mornings]

It's wild how the first role you see an actor portray, no matter how obscure or not-what-they're-known-for, can be what you always see them as.

[godsopenwound]

Mary Oliver, “Of Love” from Red Bird

[bogunicorn]

Being shady in public about people's custom characters in games unprovoked is and was Loser Shit. People post about their PCs because they're having fun. It's not, like, systemically harmful or anything to bag on bland or ugly OCs, nobody's identity is being attacked or anything, obviously, but something can be shitty loser behavior without being bigoted, you know? Becky making a white girl elf with pink hair and a weirdly modded face isn't harming anyone or anything, and if Becky is acting shitty and running her mouth about how much better her OC is than someone else's, her OC is not the thing causing that issue, her stinky attitude is.

Like, man, when people make custom characters, they're just vibing. It's not for you, and nobody's OC is "adding representation" or "taking representation away" in fandom. Your social obligations are how you treat other human beings, not in making custom characters for literally anybody's sake but your own. No other person in fandom "benefits" if I as a white person make a non-white OC and post pictures of them or if I romanced a relatively unpopular character, I didn't do anything with that. I also didn't do anything by making white characters or romancing a popular love interest character, either.

I am all here for harmlessly clowning, especially if it's clowning on some nonsense. But I think fandom also needs to examine why they're so overly invested in what kinds of PCs that strangers on the internet make in their video games, and why they feel the need to feed into some narrative about competition over, like, elves and dwarves and shit.

You're not ~sticking it to the man~ when you make a post that's just "if your OC is boring to me then she's ugly and you're delusional for thinking she's cool" unprompted, you're just acting like you're still in high school. Bitch about other people's ugly OCs in your cunty little group chat like a grownup. You never, ever have to like what other people have made, but "this style of OC is fucking hideous and tacky and I hate it" is, like, an Inside Voice kind of sentiment. Saying it in public where you know that the people you're talking about will see it makes you the one making people feel bad for no good reason.

[godsweakestsoldier]

I am once again thinking about blood, specifically blood and hands. Hands desperately covering a wound with blood pooling beneath it. Fingers sticking together because blood is surprisingly sticky. Streaks of blood on a character's face because the bleeding person wanted to comfort them by touching their face. Blood caked into the cuticles and under nails turning them dark red. Blood crawling up wrists as they grow more frantic. That iron smell sticking to their hands even after washing the blood off and turning the sink pink.

[oceanics]

I was thinking about Star Wars and got a post on my dashboard about Percy Jackson and it got me thinking. I don't really think "personal loyalty" or "sacrificing the world to save a friend" is the fatal flaw Riordan thinks it is, not only because Percy isn't really confronted with it like, ever, but because that's how we got Darth Vader. And Anakin Skywalker, even way before he fell, already had a personality that was completely different to Percy's.

Anakin met Padmé once, as a 9 year old child, and got completely obsessed with her for 10 years. In 10 years he never once got over her. Once they were already together, he was possessive and jealous. He was arrogant and proud, and his love for her was always tinged with desperation, probably in part due to the secret nature of their relationship.

Frankly, I could theoretically see a certain similarity if I was looking at it through Obi Wan-colored lenses: his words in that one conversation with Yoda in the ROTS novel, where he says that Anakin is loyal to people and not institutions (to paraphrase), do sound like Percy but lbr Obi Wan is the most biased mf out there, he was blinded by his personal attachment to Anakin. Hell, Obi Wan saw it like that because, as he himself says, he was one of the people Anakin loved.

Percy, on the other hand, whether it's due to the writing being like that (they are, after all, middle grade novels), always does things for the greater good. He doesn't, say, stay with Sally when he finds her fighting the titan army: he goes away to fight his part of the fight. He doesn't wait for Annabeth and Tyson to go to him in Camp Jupiter, he goes on the mission to Alaska.

The closest he comes to it is falling to Tartarus with Annabeth, but that's only after making Nico promise that thing about the doors of death or whatever. And even then, Percy wasn't actually sacrificing anything other than himself: there were 5 other demigods left of the prophecy of the seven, plus Nico, and they actually needed someone on the other side of the doors of death, so their fall was necessary to defeating the giants, he wasn't actually leaving aside the giants war to stay with annabeth.

[dessertbird]

Daily Destiel 💙💚

A Castiel who never rescued Dean from hell or Cas, Deans’s angel. Getting what you wish for always comes with a cost. 🥹😭💔

[sisterdivinium]

Think "necessity" of evil in the ultimate doing of good ("For God judged it better to bring good out of evil than not to permit any evil to exist"); sin/failure for the sake of elevation, personal and otherwise, and how each of the characters "falls" so that good may come of it somehow, be it in general knowledge, assistance in pursuing good or personal enlightenment.

I'm far too lacking in dogmatic understanding to pursue this specific angle of investigation the way I'd like to and it's driving me crazy.

[mekatrio]

this line does insane things to me. i didnt catch it the first time bc well like ive stated before i was crying so fucking much when i read novel 8. but ive been (VERY BRAVELY) rereading a few parts and coming across this was very. yeah

[ronearoundblindly]

Big Pharma

Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader

Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?

Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.

Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮‍💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k

The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.

Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.

As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.

This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.

You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.

You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.

Well, the only side effect.

Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”

“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”

“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”

You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.

“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…

“Good. A team player. We value that here.”

You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.

“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.

He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.

You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.

Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.

See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.

Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.

The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.

Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior. 

You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.

Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.

Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?

“Doc, no,” he breaths.

“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.

Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”

‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.

“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.

He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.

It’s your job to break him and break him right now.

“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”

There’s a flat smack on the door.

“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.

That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”

In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.

Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.

You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.

“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.

He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.” 

His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.

You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.

Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.

“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”

That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.

His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.

Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.

You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.

He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.

Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.

“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.

Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.

Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.

Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.

You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.

A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”

You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.

“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock. 

He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.

He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.

A box of tissues is set by your side.

“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?” 

You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”

Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.

“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.

“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”

Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.

There’s another impatient bang at the door.

“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”

It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.

You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.

Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’d you do, blow a vein?”

You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.

“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.

His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.

Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.

It seems you’re both addicted now.

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]

[victorluvsalice]

-->Smiler moved from herbalism to chicken-tending (gotta make sure there’s plenty of feed for everyone! And actually remember to collect those eggs) as Victor and Shadow moved outside to try this fetch thing again -- the porch didn’t QUITE work, but the open area right NEXT to the porch did! They proceeded to spend a few hours tossing the ball around, with Shadow going and actually getting it MOST of the time. XD

-->Alice, for her part, stayed in wolf form long enough to do some scavenging (finding some upgrade parts) and to let out a somber howl to keep the Fury down. This all filled up her werewolf XP meter again, allowing her to get another ability point! I chose Personal Grooming for the ability to just lick herself clean as necessary -- that’s a good, useful one, and should be good for getting little bits of XP every time she gets dirty.

-->And then, not wanting to forget, I had Smiler do something very very important -- namely, buy the gang a cow! :D Finally found the room for the shed, so it’s about time they got one! Smiler chose a black-and-white spotted cow and named her Moory (because puns). They got along famously with the new addition to the family, telling jokes and giving her a good brush before milking her. So the Valicer Farm now has another thing to sell at their shop! (If it ever properly opens, of course. . .)

-->While Smiler made friends with Moory, Victor and Shadow moved fetch training over to the little strip by the greenhouse (Shadow still having a LITTLE trouble with getting the ball every time), while Alice turned back to human form and called Kelly home from her kitty adventures. Mostly because I’d noticed that the cat was uncomfortable for some reason. . .

And then I noticed “oh, wait a minute, it’s HOT today! Right, summer, Henford-On-Bagley DOES actually have that.” I promptly had Alice swap the thermostats on the lot from “heat” to “cool” and take Kelly’s sweater off for the new season. Nakey cat can be nakey when the temperature’s rising! (I was tempted to put her in her taco outfit, but I think I’ll save that for Spookfest. XD)

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

snapdragons mean i'm sorry

summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine

You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of it’s place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store. 

Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today you’d broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than you’d ever done in your entire life. 

Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than you’d thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasn’t until he’d saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that you’d really become close. And you’d been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours. 

Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wade’s new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when he’d stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation he’d proudly presented you. He’d lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. You’d already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend. 

You historically didn’t do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wade’s estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, you’d arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Al’s apartment was full of familiar faces when you’d arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before they’d asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. You’d thanked him, and made your way across the room. 

When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. You’d shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didn’t like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. “So you’re the florist that he’s obsessed with.” 

You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasn’t only kind to your face. “Are you kidding me?” Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. “More like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but I’m your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.” He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.

Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. You’d stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasn’t long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldn’t help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family. 

The next day, you’d stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldn’t shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. You’d dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppins’ hair and saw yourself out. 

Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. You’d fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. You’d insisted you could take care of it, but he’d shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didn’t feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks. 

After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow you’d always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wade’s stool had quickly become Logan’s but you didn’t much mind. 

Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you hand’t really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. “I really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often she’s hanging around me.” Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway. 

“I hear you peanut,” Wade was quick to respond. “Cling-ville USA, population her, amiright?” 

“Fuck off, you’ve been obsessed with her as long as I’ve known you.” Your heart sunk. Isn’t that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. You’d retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it. 

You hadn’t seen them since. You knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but it stung. You’d moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see. 

You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say.   

“Hey, sweetheart” he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets. 

If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. “Hey, Lo. Where’ve you been?”

“Laura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Got a bit busy.” You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.”

You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasn’t bringing up the obvious tension. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “What kind are you looking for?” 

“Eh, whatever you think says ‘Sorry, I fucked up’ the best” he shrugged, making his way behind the counter. 

“Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of. 

“Where’s my seat sweetheart?” He asked, before taking a pause. “What do you mean who else?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“What do you mean ‘where’s my seat’?” You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice. 

“Okay, you’ve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.” 

“Wouldn’t wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?” You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. “I heard the both of you complaining about me last week.” 

Logan’s hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. “I was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But I’m happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.” 

“You love her.” 

“Yeah, you know me too well sweetheart.” 

You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. “Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal. 

He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully.  

Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks.  You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled. 

“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”

“I have to know.” 

He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. “Wanted me to jump out of a cake.” 

You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. “I would like to see it.” 

“Then we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” 

[peachypixelpop]

Paws and Claws

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x curvyf!reader | smut | 6k

SUMMARY | Your dog Bert accidentally knocks up Dogpool which leads to a meet cute with an angry Wolverine.

WARNINGS | Meet cute (but make it intense) kinda enemies, to friends to lovers, mutual yearning, daddy wolverine, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humour, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, piv s*x, what refractory period? we die like men, You know he talks you through it.

RATING | Explicit

NOTES | Okay so this is my first ever Tumblr spicy oneshot, soooo thoughts and feedback are so welcome. Enjoy my loves <3

“You,” he snarled, teeth bared as he thrust what could only be described as a pot-bellied gremlin toward your face.

“Me?” you splutter, glancing between the feral-looking man in front of you and the small creature he held in his hands.

“Yeah! You’ve got some audacity coming back here after what you’ve done,” he spat, gesturing around the park while transferring the small creature to his large bicep, cradling it against his impressively muscular chest.

The ‘here’ he was referring to was your local park, currently hosting its weekly ‘Social Snout Society.’ You had moved for work, and the event seemed like a great way to meet fellow dog owners.

And in a way, it had. You’d made friends with.  many of the regulars and had grown your social circle considerably. There was the sweet young couple who kept trying to set you up with their ‘friend,’ and the lovely old lady, Barbara, who always offered your dog peanut butter-filled treats.

But then, there was him. The one person you couldn’t quite figure out. He was always standing off to the side, averse to socialising, with his thick arms crossed over a plaid shirt as he watched the dogs run around. There was something about his presence—an air of brooding mystery—that made it hard to ignore him. You’d caught yourself staring a few times—how could you not? He was handsome in a rugged, roguish Clint Eastwood sort of way. But more than that, he was The Wolverine. Yes, that Wolverine—the legendary superhero from the X-Men who fought bad guys and saved the world.

Each time he caught you looking, you quickly glanced away, your face turning a brilliant shade of red as you desperately tried to distract yourself by calling your dog over.

You had pegged him as the type who would own a large, intimidating dog—a mastiff, a rottweiler, or maybe a German shepherd. So, when the social was winding down and you saw a tiny Pugese bounding over to him, you couldn’t believe your eyes. The little dog, all stubby legs and wrinkled face, leaped into the gruff man’s arms with surprising agility. Its long tongue lolled out, swiping affectionately at his mutton chops as he caught it effortlessly. The sight of this fierce-looking man cradling such a small, adorable dog was almost too much to process, and you had to stifle a laugh at the unexpected contrast.

“What’s going on?” you finally manage to ask, your voice shaky as you look at the small creature nestled against his chest.

“Listen, bub, this clueless act ain’t gonna cut it with me. You can see what you’ve done,” he said, his voice rough like gravel. He adjusted his grip on the little dog, gently supporting its neck and bum as he sat it up slightly. You leaned in, taking in the wide brown eyes that blinked up at you as the dog gave a quick yawn, shifting in the man’s arms. Its little red leather outfit was twisted slightly around its body, looking snugger than usual.

“This—” he growled, nodding toward the Pugese, “is Mary. And thanks to your sausage, she’s gonna have puppies!”

You blink in confusion. “My—wait, Bert? You’re talking about Bert?”

“Who else?” he huffed, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “Your daschund knocked up my dog!”

As if summoned, Bert appeared between your legs, huffing loudly from his sprint back from Barbara, a smudge of peanut butter on his lips. He looked up at you and the angry man with a proud expression, oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

“Bert?” you repeat incredulously, trying to process the information. “But… but I swear he’s been fixed!”

“Yeah, well, he figured it out somehow,” the man muttered, still fuming. “Found out today at the vet—Mary’s knocked up, thanks to him”

You glanced at the small dog again and noticed how her little pot belly did seem more rotund than usual. She was happily wagging her curly tail, completely unaware of the drama unfolding.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, covering your mouth as you look at the little Pugese. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”

“Neither did I!” he retorts, though his tone softens slightly as he sees the genuine surprise and concern in your eyes. “I mean, Mary is the last dog I’d expect to end up pregnant. She’s never even shown interest in other dogs.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, the absurdity of the situation dawning on you. Of all the things I expected today, getting chewed out by a grumpy, muscle-bound guy over a pregnant dog wasn’t one of them.

“How do you even know it was him? There are hundreds of dogs around here”

He huffed as if appalled you would even ask that.

“How could it not be him, I’ve seen him - sniffing around her” he spat. 

You side eyed Bert who had the audacity to flop on his back for a belly rub. It sounded exactly like him to your dismay. 

“I honestly don’t know what to say except sorry” you finally manage wincing as Bert let out a long whine at being ignored. 

“Just… keep an eye on your little Casanova,” he grumbled, rubbing Mary’s head. “We’re in this together now, whether we like it or not.”

“I really am sorry,” you say, reaching down to scoop up Bert, who was sniffing at the man’s shoes. Holding his little sausage body in one hand, you thrust a hand forward toward the man. “I’m Y/N. You’ve met Bert.”

The man eyed your hand for a second before clasping it in his own large one. “Logan,” he spoke, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Listen, don’t worry. Bert won’t be an absent father. I’ll step up—I mean, he’ll step up—well, I suppose we’ll be there for you.”

“Uh huh.”

“And Mary, of course. Listen, I’m a girls’ girl, and the last thing I would do is—” You freeze as you realise you’re still gripping Logan’s large hand and shaking it like you’re sealing the most important business deal of your life. Quickly releasing his hand as if it were on fire, you take a step back and stare at the grass in embarrassment.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up and tried not to get lost in his warm brown eyes. “Listen, can you give me your number or something so you can keep me updated?” You asked, shifting Bert on your arm.

“I don’t have a phone,” he said awkwardly.

“Right,” you responded, feeling mortified. It seemed clear he wanted nothing to do with you.

“Okay, well, I’ll be around if you need me,” you said dejectedly. With twenty minutes left of the social, you just wanted to escape the awkwardness.

Before he could respond, you turned away and left the park, your ears burning red with embarrassment as Bert gently gnawed at your fingers.

You didn’t see Logan again, a couple of weeks had passed since the man had confronted you about Bert’s promiscuous behaviour so you were surprised to find a bright pink envelope on your floor when you arrived home from work.

🎉🐶 PAW-TEE ALERT! 🐶🎉 Hey there, Fur-tastic Friends! Guess what time it is? It’s time to celebrate the most adorable, waggliest, and undeniably cutest thing in the universe—PUPPIES! Yep, you heard me right. Wade is throwing the ultimate Puppy Shower and you’re on the VIP list. 🎉 Come dressed in your finest puppy-themed attire or don’t—either way, you’ll look fetching! 🐾 Please bring a treat for Mary, our star-of-the-show, and no, we’re not talking about your grandma’s fruitcake. 🍪 If you can’t make it, don’t worry. I’ll be sure to send you a selfie of me and Logan covered in puppy slobber. 📸 RSVP: Hit me up with your best bark or, if you’re feeling fancy, just send a text to [Contact Information Here]. Either way, let me know if you’re coming so we can prepare an appropriately excessive amount of dog treats and possibly a few questionable dog costumes. Pawsitively Excited, Wade & Logan xoxoxo P.S. If you think this is just a ploy to get free snacks and a chance to see Logan out of his grumpy shell, you might be right. But you’ll also be helping celebrate the imminent arrival of tiny, adorable puppies!

“Wade?” You murmured, running your finger over the red glitter hearts on the page. It made sense why Logan wasn’t single; he was undeniably gorgeous. But your brows furrowed as you tried to recall whether you had given Logan your address.

Glancing at Bert, who was sitting in front of his empty bowl and giving you a reproachful look, you sighed. “Time to step up, buddy.” You spoke to Bert, who huffed slightly in agreement and continued to paw at his dish.

When you arrived at Wade’s flat, you were surprised to realise it was only a few streets away from your own place. Bert whined softly as you lingered outside the door, feeling the weight of nerves flutter in your stomach. You could hear voices and music drifting from inside. Glancing down at your dog, you took a deep breath before rapping your knuckles on the door.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a tall man covered in a patchwork of scars. His expression was animated, and before you could say anything, he flashed a blinding smile.

“You must be Y/N! Come in, come in!” he greeted, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he ushered you and Bert inside.

“Thanks,” you replied, stepping into the cosy flat and carefully setting your wet umbrella near a pile of shoes and coats. Wade gave you a friendly hug as you shrugged off your raincoat, leaving you momentarily startled.

“It’s great to finally meet you!” Wade said, his tone warm and welcoming.

“You too! And, er, sorry again about the whole… getting your dog pregnant,” you replied, feeling a bit awkward.

“Pshhh, don’t worry about it! Our little Puppins is 90% G-spot, it was bound to happen sooner or later, the little tease,” Wade jokes, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Oh-oka—wait, Puppins?” you asked, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire conversation.

“Yeah, Mary—Mary Puppins,” Wade clarified with a wide grin, clearly proud of the clever name.

“Ah, now Bert’s name is starting to make sense,” you mused, the pieces finally clicking together in your mind.

“Yep, it’s very on-brand,” Wade replied, a mischievous glint in his eye as he let his thoughts wander for a moment. He shook his head slightly, snapping back to the present. “Anyway,” he continued, his tone shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness, “where is our little absent father?”

You glanced down, spotting Bert near your feet, his little tail wagging as if he understood that the spotlight was now on him. Bending down, you scooped up the dachshund, who was proudly sporting a tiny yellow bow tie, and handed him over to Wade.

“There he is!” Wade cooed, holding Bert up like a prized possession. “Someone went out for milk these past two weeks, huh? Poor Wolvy has been looking for your mama,” he added with a wink, turning to lead you both into the lounge.

Wade marched into the room, lifting Bert high above his head in a dramatic gesture. “Everyone, I present to you the baby daddy!” Wade declared with flair, holding Bert up like Simba in The Lion King. The room erupted in laughter and applause as the small group gathered around, showering Bert with attention and affection.

But then your attention shifted to your usual target, who was brooding near the kitchen, lingering near some red velvet cupcakes. You moved closer, your heart pounding as you took in his form that seemed to take up most of the kitchen.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you asked, reaching past him to grab a cupcake. His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, searching your face for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, alright. How’s it going with you?” he replied, his voice low and gravelly.

“Good, great actually. Bert hasn’t gotten any other dogs pregnant,” you joked lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“That’s good,” Logan replied, his tone a bit flat.

“You know what blokes are like, only thinking of one thing,” you blurted out without thinking, immediately regretting the words as they left your mouth.

Logan raised a brow at you, his expression unreadable. “That right?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. To avoid saying anything else, you took a bite out of the cupcake. The texture was unexpectedly tough, and you found yourself chewing more vigorously than you’d anticipated.

Logan’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment, he reached out and gently wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“There was some icing,” he murmured, his voice suddenly softer, more of a rumble than his usual biting growl. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as your heart pounded in your chest.

He held your gaze a moment longer, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, that’s for dogs, right?”

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked down at the half-eaten cupcake in your hand. “What?”

“Wade’s idea of a joke,” Logan explained, clearly amused by your reaction. “He put them out with the regular food to mess with people.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment. “Oh my god…” you whispered, just before gagging as the aftertaste of beef hit your tongue. “Oh no, that’s disgusting!” you spluttered, wiping your mouth furiously as you tried to rid yourself of the flavour.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first one he’s tricked,” Logan said, his smirk widening into a grin. You were momentarily taken aback, surprised by how the smile transformed his face, softening his usual stern expression and making him look years younger. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation dawning on you as your cheeks flushed a tomato hue. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first one he’s tricked,” Logan said, his smirk widening into a genuine grin that took you by surprise. The smile lit up his face, making him look years younger, almost boyish.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting you as your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “Well, I guess it’s fitting. Bert and I are just full of surprises.”

“Seems that way,” Logan replied, his tone now more relaxed, a subtle hint of flirtation lacing his words. His eyes held yours, and for a brief moment, the air between you felt charged with an unspoken connection.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” he grumbled, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“Maybe not,” you teased back, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach. The intensity of his gaze made it hard to think straight, and you wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

Logan’s nostrils flared slightly, as if he were picking up on the tension between you. But before anything more could happen, Wade’s voice broke the moment.

“Ooh, this looks all cosy, doesn’t it, Wolvy?” Wade chirped smugly, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he took in the lack of space between the two of you.

“Fuck off,” Logan muttered, his jaw clenching as he shot Wade a glare.

“Spicy, this one isn’t he? Muy, muy caliente,” Wade ribbed, his grin widening as he revelled in the discomfort he was causing.

You glanced down to see Logan clenching his whisky glass tightly, a small hairline crack forming in the glass, his expression one of barely contained irritation.

“Could you pass me the little tux behind you?” Wade asked, clearly enjoying himself.

Logan turned around quickly, grabbed the small tux, and tossed it at the scarred man without a word.

“Thanks, Peanut,” Wade winked before chasing after Bert with a mischievous glint in his eye.

As you watched Wade prance off, you noticed the pained expression on Logan’s face. Trying to smooth over the situation, you decided to make conversation.

“So… how long have you two been together?” you asked, your tone light but genuinely curious.

Logan, who had just taken a swig of his whisky nearly choked, sputtering slightly as he wiped away the spilled liquid with a large hand. “What?” he spat, clearly taken aback.

You blinked slowly, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment. “Oh, sorry—I shouldn’t have presumed.”

“Listen, we aren’t together,” Logan clarified, his voice firm, though there was a hint of something more beneath the surface.

“Oh… right,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “Sorry, I just… assumed.”

Logan shook his head, exhaling out of his nose “We just live together while I look for a new place.”

“Got it,” you replied, feeling both relieved and a little silly for jumping to conclusions. The tension between you eased slightly, though you couldn’t help but notice the way Logan’s gaze lingered on you just a moment longer than necessary.

You were soon swept into a whirlwind of party games organised by Wade, each one more spirited than the last. During the festivities, you met their third roommate, known as "Blind Al," though you quickly insisted on simply calling her Al. You chatted to their other friends too, laughing at some of their wild stories until your stomach got a stitch and your jaw ached. 

As the evening wore on, the sky outside grew darker and darker, the stars twinkling faintly in the chilly night air. Feeling the onset of sleepiness, you decided it was time to head home. Logan, having observed your growing fatigue, volunteered to walk you back. At first, you insisted it wasn’t necessary, pointing out that you had Bert with you. 

Logan, however, let out a dismissive snort at the sight of your chunky dachshund, who was currently curled up and snoozing with half his face buried in a muffin. “Seriously, you’re letting this guy be your bodyguard?” Logan remarked with a smirk.

You sighed at the sight of Bert’s icing coated snout and, realising Logan’s offer was genuine, you conceded. “Alright, if you insist.”

With that, you both left the warm, lively flat, stepping out into the crisp night air as Logan guided you through the quiet streets toward your home. The walk was peaceful, the cool night air brushing against your skin, and the occasional rustle of leaves the only sound in the quiet neighbourhood.

When you reached your door, you lingered for a moment, cracking it open just enough for Bert to scamper inside and head straight to his bed, exhausted from the day’s excitement.

“Thanks for today. I really like your friends,” you said with a grin, noticing the unexpected softness in Logan’s eyes—a stark contrast to your initial meeting.

“Just my friends, huh?” he teased, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Oh yes, I suppose Mary is lovely too,” you teased back, looking up at him with a soft smile. The warmth between you was palpable, his large frame nearly filling your small hallway, making the space feel even more intimate. You could hear the faint buzz of your neighbours’ TV through the walls, a reminder of the world continuing on around you, yet in this moment, it felt like it was just the two of you.

Logan’s gaze held yours for a beat longer, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a fleeting second before he straightened up, breaking the tension just enough to breathe again. “Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly rough. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “Goodnight, Logan.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice softening.

As he turned to leave, you felt a sudden tug in your chest, an impulse you couldn't quite suppress. Before you knew it, you were calling out to him.

"Logan, wait."

He stopped and turned back to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the hallway. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension that had been simmering all evening. You took a small step closer, closing the gap between you.

"Today was... nice," you said, your voice almost a whisper now, "and I don’t really want it to end."

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, the playful banter from earlier replaced by something much more intense. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space of your hallway. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of him—something warm and earthy—filling your senses.

“It doesn’t have to,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this charged moment. Without thinking, you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing against the stubble on his jaw. Logan’s breath caught at the touch, his eyes never leaving yours.

In that instant, the tension snapped. Logan closed the distance between you in one swift motion, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as if he had been holding himself back. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, your heart racing as you responded with equal fervour.

The world around you blurred as all your senses focused on the feel of his lips, the strength of his arms around you, the roughness of his stubble against your skin. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed you—like he was claiming you, yet with a surprising gentleness that made your knees go weak.

You felt the arms round your waist pull you closer to his solid body, causing you to whimper and him to slip a tongue gently into your mouth.

You broke apart just enough to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other as you both struggled to steady your breathing. Logan’s hands were still on your waist, his grip firm yet comforting, grounding you as you struggled to level your breathing. 

“Come inside,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your hand slid from his jaw to rest against his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

Logan hesitated for a brief moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read what you truly wanted. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him because he nodded slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint, almost teasing smile.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d like that.”

You stepped back, pulling him gently inside your flat, closing the door behind him. The click of the lock sounded louder in the quiet of your home. The cosiness of the small space wrapped around you both, the warmth and intimacy of it only heightening the tension that hummed between you.

You took his hand, guiding him deeper into the flat, past the soft glowing lamps outside and Bert who was already snoring softly in his bed, oblivious to the charged atmosphere filling the room.

Logan’s gaze was intense as he followed you, his hand warm and reassuring in yours. When you reached your bedroom, you turned to face him again, your heart in your throat as you searched his face, wondering if this was really happening.

Logan’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that sent another shiver through you. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, slower this time, savouring each moment. Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, the feel of his solid frame against yours grounding you even as your head spun.

Without breaking the kiss, Logan’s hands slid from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him as he walked you backward toward the bed. You went willingly, your heart pounding with anticipation and need, the heat between you building with every passing second.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you sank down onto the duvet, pulling Logan with you. He followed without hesitation, his body covering yours as you both tumbled onto the bed, the kiss never breaking, never slowing.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, marvelling at the feel of him—so strong, so present, so overwhelmingly real. Logan groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you as his hands began to explore, tracing the curves of your body as if committing them to memory.

You arched into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he kissed his way down your neck, his stubble grazing your skin in the most delicious way. The sensation was electrifying as you gulped back another whimper as his tongue slipped back into your mouth, tasting the whisky on his lips. 

As he slowly begins to undress you, You feel an overwhelming sense of vulnerability as he unzips your last article of clothing and pulls your skirt down. Sensing you freezing he stops.

“Hey, where did you go bub?” He whispers, pulling back to meet your eyes.

“It’s just, er, been a while and I've put on a bit of weight recently” you mumbled, unable to hold his gaze. 

Logan paused, his hands gently resting on your hips as he looked at you, his brow furrowing with concern. The intensity of the moment faded slightly as he took in your words, understanding the vulnerability you were feeling. He tilted your chin up softly, urging you to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that surprised you. “You don’t have to hide from me. You’re beautiful, just the way you are.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the sincerity in his words sinking in. It had been so long since anyone had looked at you like this, let alone made you feel beautiful. Logan’s eyes were full of warmth, no judgement or hesitation, just blown pupils and an open gaze that made your chest tighten and your panties soak. 

He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch feather-light. “You’re perfect, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that resonated through you. “Every inch of you.”

His words were like a balm, easing the anxiety that had been bubbling beneath the surface. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his hands held you with such care.

“Logan…” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, grounding you in the moment. You felt the tension in your body slowly melt away, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest, as your heart started to race with excitement rather than fear. 

You took a deep breath, letting the anxiety flow out with the exhale, and nodded slightly. “I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.”

Logan’s expression softened further, his gaze never leaving yours. “I get that,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “But you don’t have to worry, not with me. I’m here, and I see you. All of you.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His hands moved with reverence, as if he was rediscovering every part of you, appreciating each touch, each breath, as if it was a gift.

Logan pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression one of quiet reverence. “You’re beautiful, Y/N, but if you want to stop I will respect that, what do you want?”

“No I want this, I want you Logan.” You whispered, biting your lip. 

He leaned forward to kiss you again before pulling away your skirt and panties. He groaned at the sight of you glistening and swollen. “God you are incredible sweetheart” he groaned before leaning down.

“I wha-” You started before cutting yourself with a loud moan as he swiped over your clit. 

He drank from you like a man without water. The silence of the room is broken by the sound of his slurping and suckling. “I’ve been smelling you for weeks and you taste even sweeter than I imagined’ he whispered against you. 

Unable to answer him you continued to pant as he greedily ate you out. Grunting like an animal, his oral could only be described as animalistic as he pushed you towards that high. It was only when he added two thick fingers did you begin to wail as the stimulation overwhelmed you.

“That’s it sweetheart, I know, it’s okay, let go for me” He grunted as he continued to eat you out, the prickle of his beard between your thick thighs adding to the sensations as he rubbed his face into your pussy. 

When he crooked his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion that hit that sweet spongy spot inside of you. Something snaps inside as you whimper his name and come panting and wiggling on his face. 

As you came back to yourself you let out a whimper as you saw him smugly looking at you from between your thighs. Slowly rubbing you as you came down from your high. 

Standing up, you have to resist the urge to whine at the lack of fullness you feel and spy him suck his glistening fingers.  As Logan swiftly removed his clothes, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him—his body was beautiful, all toned muscle and solid mass, every muscle defined and glistening under the soft light. The intensity in his eyes never wavered as he tossed his shirt aside, revealing the expanse of his toned chest.

He moved with purpose, crawling onto the bed towards you like a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, each one making your pulse race. The heat between you was palpable, electrifying the air as he inched closer, his gaze locking onto yours with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the sheer magnetism of his presence drawing you in, making you feel both excited and slightly nervous. 

When he finally reached you, his large hands framed your face as he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both fierce and gentle, full of the passion you had felt building between you all night.

“I’m on the pill” You blurted out as he pulled back and you watched as his pupils dilated wider. 

“You sure bub?” he questioned.

You nodded fervently as a surge of confidence rushed through you and you pushed him back onto the mattress so you could climb on top of him. It really was unfair, he made it look so natural as he laid back on the duvet like a modern day adonis. 

Logan cursed when you sank on top of him. It took a few moments for you to be fully seated. When you were, you took a slow and deep breath as you felt his entire length inside of you. You had never felt so full. 

You wiggled your hips slightly as you tested the length of him inside you and his hands shot out to grip your soft hips. 

“Just a second darlin’” He growled, his face looked strained as he held you in place. 

“If i’m too heavy we can turn over” You spoke shyly conscious of how he seemed to grip tightly at your hips.

He chuckled as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth “No, No, It’s not that darlin’ you’re just so tight” He muttered before starting to thrust at you. 

You bit back a moan as you rode him. Large hands guiding you up and down as you bounced up and down, his cock rearranging your insides to make room for him, all of him. 

Leaning forward he took one of your nipples in his mouth and gently nibbled and sucked on it before moving on to the other one. You were unsure of how much time had passed but you soon found yourself coming on his cock. 

Unlatching from your nipple his hands went to your ass, taking over moving you as you came down from your high. “That’s it, such a good girl taking all of me” he rumbled before flipping you over and pushing your knees back to your chest. 

In this position he felt even deeper inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way and nudging the spongy wall of your cervix. “Logan” you whimpered as you pulled him forward to kiss his lips as he lazily thrust into you stoking the fire in your stomach again. Wrapping your ankles above the curve of his ass you dreamily sighed into his mouth as the taste of whisky hit your tongue. 

Your skin was damp with sweat as you clung to him desperately as his thrusts built up again. 

“Think you can give me another one darlin’?” he questioned after he broke away from your lips and started kissing down your neck nibbling as he went. 

At this point you were on fire, legs numb and eyes rolling back into your head. You felt like he had taken everything from you, yet, as his fingers rubbed over your clit a spark shot through you as you keenly lifted your hips upwards to his barraging cock. 

“That’s a good girl, gonna fill you up” He grunted, taking the hand that wasn’t rubbing your clit and pressing down on your abdomen to make the space inside you even tighter. 

“Logan, I’m close” You whimpered at the stimulation. The sounds of his animalistic grunts and squelching filled the quiet room. 

“That’s it darlin’ come all over this cock for me” he growled as you felt the air get stolen from your lungs as you spasmed around him, muscles pulling him in as deep as possible. Hips stuttering, Logan followed you into your release pumping you full of his thick spend. You could feel the heat of it filling you up as some of it leaked out of the sides of his cock, your body simply incapable of holding the sheer volume of it. 

Rolling to the side he pulled you with him to lay on his chest as his cock stayed nestled deep inside of you twitching occasionally with the odd spurt, not quite finished filling you up. You hummed gently against his chest as his arms circled around you, warm and safe. 

"You okay, bub?" Logan grumbled softly, his deep voice carrying a warmth that sent a wave of comfort through you. He gently smoothed a few stray strands of hair back from your face, his touch tender against your skin. You sighed happily, nestling into the solid warmth of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

Tilting your head up to meet his gaze, you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m so glad Bert knocked up your dog,” you said, a playful grin tugging at your lips. The absurdity of the situation, which had once felt mad, now seemed like the best thing that had ever happened.

Logan’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. "Yeah, who would've thought?" he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a rare, genuine smile. He reached down, brushing a thumb gently across your cheek. 

You shifted slightly and froze. Eyes widening in realisation at what was happening.  

“Logan…are you still?”

“Let’s hit number four” he growled.

[minimomoe]

Not just Neighbors

Pairing: Logan Howlett (the worst Logan) x fem reader

Summary: Wade had a way of attracting the most unlikely people and keeping them around, but his newest roommate Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scowling is living with him until he figures out his way in this new universe. While Logan's come to peace with not dwelling on the past, the past always has a way of coming back to him.

Tags: MDNI!, Mutual Pining, Wade Wilson is a Little Shit, Next door Neighbors and roommate situation, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Smut, porn with some plot, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, breeding (like a tad), oral (fem receiving)

word ct: 7.7k (get comfy)

song inspo: Iris- Goo Goo Dolls

AN: this could potentially become a throuple if you guys want. you just gotta let me know

You were there when Wade brought in his new flatmate for the first time. Wade had gone on and on about how he was akin to Jesus and how he managed to save you and everybody else in the goddamn world with the help of this newcomer and the rat of a dog he brought back home with him. You weren’t surprised at all. Wade had a way of attracting the most unlikely people and keeping them around. If you thought about it a little harder, it was one of the reasons why you were friends with Wade in the first place. His constant bouts of word vomit and funny quips annoyed you to no end but his kindness is what made you stick around. 

But as for Logan, Wade’s new friend, they were truly the most unlikely pair. You couldn’t wrap your head around how they had to work together for anything. You suppose the “how” didn’t really matter here with everybody smiling with the occasional conversation bursting with unadulterated laughter. Wherever Wade picked Logan up from, he fit in perfectly in the group. 

Somehow you got stuck with one of the newest guests at the get together, Mary Puppins, and you looked down at the mutt with a less than ecstatic grimacing smile. You didn’t like how naked she was, her skin only having matted tufts of fur in none of the places that mattered. 

“No no no, you can’t hold her and have that face. If you’re holding Dogpool you have to smile. She invokes happiness, like a vibrator,” Wade said. He took the dog from your arms and rubbed noses with her. “Who’s the prettiest princess in the world? Is it you or me?”

The floppy tongue of Puppins licked all around his face and you could barely hold back gagging. “Dude, that’s disgusting. Who knows what fucking diseases you just got.” 

“Not surprised that you find true love disgusting. You remind me of a snapping turtle with chlamydia. You got an itch you can never reach so now you have to make it everybody else’s problem.” 

“I just told you to stop tonguing down your dog, prick. I’d rather drink rubbing alcohol than do what you’re doing.” 

Your friend gasped loudly and clapped his hands excitedly. He pointed excitedly at Logan who felt the new pairs of eyes on him from across the room even though he was in the middle of a conversation with others. His eyes hardened on Wade, glaring at him before travelling over to you. You thought you had imagined it when he had first walked in, but Logan did not want to deal with you. His eyes softened marginally before sweeping back to the laughter that bursted in front of him, tilting into concerned territories instead of pure annoyance, but still paid you no mind. You had no idea what you had done to the man, but his adverse behaviour made you eye twitch. 

“He drinks rubbing alcohol! You two would get right along with your premature wrinkles from being sour pussies and the lust for emotionally reserved people. Actually, have you said hey to Logan, my newest roommate? Don’t worry, he bites. Once he sinks his teeth in you have to shake him off. I think we should get him a muzzle. I would show you the marks he left on me but they’re in places only my eyes can see.” 

He tucked the dog under his arm and dragged you closer to the other man hurriedly without asking if you wanted to say hey to Logan. He was just your type, dark eyes, dark hair, imposing stature, but totally and completely uninterested in you.

“If they’re for your eyes only, why show them to me?” 

“Because that’s what friends do! What are you, new here? You’ve helped me take some amazing nudes so don’t get all chaste on me,” Wade exasperated. 

Unfortunately he said that loud enough for Logan to hear, who lifted an arched brow at you and Wade’s locked arms. You were getting an eyeful of his chest that was unbuttoned in his blue flannel top that made it hard to drag your eyes back up at a respectable angle. 

“Logan, this is my bestie who is also the best damn cook this place has ever seen. She could cook cocaine from scratch if she put her mind to it like that one tiktok lady and it would be heavenly. I know you crazy kids will hit it off, but if you ever need a third,” he gave you a suggestive look. 

You jabbed your elbow in Wade’s side. “Stop that. And I have never made cocaine before and I will never do that,” you corrected. 

Wade had already left to talk to Vanessa and your irritation already ebbed away at the sight of the two of them together. You shook your head and gazed back down at Logan whose jaw was ticking and you guessed that you were the cause. You nervously shifted on your feet as you talked, not wanting to make the newcomer any more uncomfortable. 

“Look, I’m not gonna pry. I do want to thank you for whatever you did with Wade. I was getting worried about him but he seems genuinely happy as of late after knowing you,” you said sincerely. 

Finally Logan looked up to meet your eyes. He scanned your entire visage and something like pain flicked across his face. 

“Nice to meet you. You’re also one of Wade’s friends?”

“And next door neighbor,” you waved your hands. You received another thinly veiled grimace. “I think Al is calling me,” you muttered so you could leave this painful conversation. 

You couldn’t have known that Logan’s gaze stayed on you even after you turned your back on him to talk to Al. There was no way for you to know that Logan had met you before, in a different universe once upon a time, and you two were a lot more than neighbors. Seeing that you didn’t have an ounce of recognition for him was jarring but he couldn’t decide which one was worse. You having no memory of him, or you knowing just how low he got before finally getting his shit together. Whenever he caught your eyes across the room you quickly focused your attention elsewhere. As much as it bothered him, he thought it would be for the best to keep his distance. 

The night passed and you didn’t make another attempt to talk to Logan. In fact, he didn’t see you again until a week later when he opened his front door and you had your fist raised in the air ready to knock on the heavy wood. 

“Oh. Logan,” you drawled, dropping your hand. You were dressed for the heat in dark wash shorts that stopped high on your thigh with a cut up t-shirt of some new age tv show. Your hair was different from the last time he saw you. A million, tiny braids wrapped up in a knot on top of your head decorated with gold jewelry. Under your arm was a basket of clothes resting against your hip. You peeked over his shoulders, looking for anybody else in the apartment. 

“I wanted to grab Al’s laundry while I’m heading down there. You mind if I get it?”

This was his chance to try to set the record straight. Logan looked at you for so long you started to frown, wondering if you had said something wrong. 

“Your hands are already full,” he said without further explanation and you fell back when he went inside with the door closing in your face. The shock of his audacity is what kept you frozen in place, but not even ten seconds later it reopened with Logan holding Althea’s laundry basket. 

“You want to do it together?” You asked incredulously. 

Logan shrugged. “I got nothing else better to do.” 

You said nothing as he walked past you down the hall to the stairwell. All you could do is stare at his nice ass saunter away after you rolled your eyes. When down in the laundry room on the first floor you took the basket out of Logan’s hands, quickly sorted the clothes then placed them in the machine. You sat down on the bench, staring down at your hands, clenching your fingers into your palms before slowly stretching them back out. 

“What’s wrong with your hands?” Logan was still standing, leaning against a machine that wasn’t on as he looked at you with concern. You moved from stretching your fingers all at once to bending them one by one until they released a crisp pop!

“I feel like they're getting stiff. Gotta stretch so I can keep braiding hair for a few more years before the arthritis kicks in,” you sighed. “Sit down already. You’re making me nervous hovering over there like that.” 

He dropped himself on the other side of the bench you were sitting on, making it creak in protest. 

It wasn’t like you to fill the quiet with small talk but you didn’t know much about Logan and he seemed to be in an agreeable mood. After a few minutes of watching a video on your phone, you paused it to ask him a question. 

“So what do you do? You know, for a living?”

Logan slowly tilted his head to regard your inquisitive stare. “I work in construction.” 

You nodded, his occupation making total sense to you. He had the look of somebody who was blue collar. “I don’t know how it fully works but can you tell the city to fix the road on the bridge? It has holes bigger than a pornstar’s.” 

Logan chuckled at your choice of words and it made you grin. It dawned on you that it was the first time you have really seen a happy expression on his face and you wanted to see more of it. 

“I’ll move it up the docket,” he snorted. 

“I’m counting on you.” 

This was going much smoother than the first time you met him and you wondered if you had imagined the unsettling encounter in the first place. You wanted to test the waters without pushing your luck, so you went back to the paused hair tutorial on your phone and the quiet hum of the washing machines tumbling filled the empty space. You kept sneaking glances up at Logan who sat comfortably on the bench, taking up twice as much space than needed with his manspreading with arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell softly like he was sleeping. 

“You wanna say something, bub?”

Your cheeks flamed like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. “Do you call everybody that?” 

Logan opened his eyes and looked at you from the corner of his eye.“I don’t bother myself too much with people’s names. It’s easier for me.” 

“So you can’t be bothered to remember my name, nice,” you snorted. Before he could respond you put your hand up. “It’s okay, I’ll forget yours so we’ll be even. I was just wondering if you styled your hair like cat ears or if you just woke up like that, but then again, it looks like that every time I see you.” 

He immediately ran his hands through his hair but failed to do anything about the style. You snorted then stretched your arm out to brush through his hair with your own fingers. The locks of hair were persistent in their upright position. You gave an amused hum before dropping your hand. “It’s pretty cute.” 

Logan bit his tongue from mentioning how the you from his universe always made fun of his hair. He couldn’t compare the two, it wouldn’t be right, but you were so obviously the same person he cared for without even trying. He abruptly got up, leaving you bewildered on the bench by yourself. 

“Call Wade to help you take this shit back to our place. I have something to take care of,” he said gruffly. Without another glance he left the laundry room. You watched his frame from the large windows walk down the street until he was no longer visible and scoffed. 

“Fuck you too, Logan,” you cursed under your breath. 

Your touch had ignited something in Logan, something that he needed to walk off lest he exploded. You had no fucking idea what you were doing to him and it wasn’t until Logan looked up and realized that he was about to walk into a new city limit that his feelings dawned on him too. You had left him in the previous universe, ending things with him before he was a full blown alcoholic because you didn’t want to be there when he self-destructed. It’s not that you had left without begging him to change, trying to help him get better, but he was too busy drowning in self pity to grab the hand that was reaching out for him. Seeing your expression full of hope and wonder in this world made Logan’s chest cave in from disappointment. It reminded him of a time where you loved him before he became The Worst Logan. He couldn’t find it in him to fully explain the turmoil that was going on with his mind and heart without it sounding utterly insane to you. The ghost of your fingers in his hair replayed in his mind for days as he kept himself busy with work and the gym, trying to minimize his chances of bumping into you to zero. The only problem was that it was an impossible task. You lived next door, and you were Wade’s friend. He could hear your voice through the drywall when he holed himself up in his room while you talked to Wade and Al. 

“Trust me, he doesn’t hate you. Unless you have a smart mouth. Then he might hate you a little bit.” 

“Is that really all the advice you can give me?” 

“He really likes Madonna?”

“Thank you. Thank you for absolutely nothing,” you groaned. 

—•—

Even though days have passed since his time spent in the laundry room with you, he was bound to cross paths with you again. He came home late at night at the same time as you who was having trouble with opening your door. 

“Shit,” he heard you mutter. “Fuck. Shit-fuck, where is my key?”

More rustling ensued as he came up the stairs to see you paw through your bag. You dropped your hand in futile defeat and pressed your forehead on the door with a soft thump. You then whipped around, making your way to his apartment, Wade’s apartment, and freezing like a deer caught in headlights when you see him down the hall. You started to backtrack but Logan called out your name.

“I was just gonna ask Wade to pick my lock again. I can’t get in,” you explained.

“Wade’s not in there. He went out with Vanessa,” Logan said. He took slow steps closer to you and you stiffened up. “I could open it for you.”

Your eyes widened at the offer, then you eyed him suspiciously. “Are you saying that but gonna fuck off to who knows where halfway through?”

Logan sucked his teeth in. “I’m sorry about that. I just— I needed to leave.”

You gave him a disbelieving stare. Even now with the tiredness of the day weighing you down you looked beautiful to him. You had your hair held back with a silk scarf that freed your face so your knitted eyebrows were showing clear confusion. Your full lips were hard pressed in a line with the corners tugging down.

“Fine. Whatever. Just open the door,” you scoffed. “Please,” you added after some thought. 

He would’ve opened it even if you yelled at him. You stood behind Logan, unable to see him extend a single claw to pick your lock. In no time you heard the click of your door being opened and you clapped in relief. Logan opened the door wide for you to step in, fully prepared to close it after but you took his hand to drag him inside.

“Thanks,” you muttered. “You’re coming home late too so you must be hungry. I doubt Wade got anything good to eat over there.” 

He watched you move around your space, kicking your shoes off at the corner and hanging your bag on some hooks next to the door. He did the same with his shoes, padding behind you in his socks as you walked over to your kitchen.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoffed. He looked at what you were staring at and it was your lanyard of keys sitting pretty on your countertop. “Well, is there anything you’re in the mood for?”

“Do you still have any of that lasagna you brought over last time? It was fucking amazing.”

“So you do eat my food,” you said bashfully. “Unfortunately I do not but I’ll make it again soon, buuut I do have spaghetti sauce with big ole meatballs leftover, so we can have that.” 

You gave Logan a hopeful look, silently asking him to stay for dinner. He didn’t know what else to do with himself in your tiny kitchen but he stuck around, scanning the walls and other surfaces for bits of you plastered all over the place. You had a little bit of everything tucked in all corners, books in haphazard stacks, miniature plants in colorful pots, and random trinkets tucked in corners. It wasn’t messy, but your space was lived in. It was a visual representation of your personality. 

In the same bowl you threw your keys in after you found them there was a large flat disc that he recognized. It was a token given to those who attended the same AA meetings he went to, the exact same design, that said “1 year”. You saw him eyeballing the coin and picked it up. 

“Oh yeah I don’t drink. Gotta keep my streak up,” you chuckled dryly. “It’s actually been three years but I don’t go as often as I should. I think I got a good handle on it now.” 

Logan’s brow raised up. He only recently started to go to AA meetings secretly on his own. While he didn’t have to hide it, having everyone close to him know how much he needed help made his stomach turn. The way you spoke about your past freely to him made him more willing to be open and honest with himself. 

“I’m trying to get better at that too,” he said in a steady voice, looking at you head on. You regarded him without any apprehension. “I go to the latest meetings of the night.”

“At the rec center on 5th?”

Logan nodded and you gave a soft smile. Your thumb brushed over the engraving on the token. “They’re good people over there. They really helped me get back on my feet.” 

You shuffled over to your pantry to pull out a pack of spaghetti, then to your cabinets to get olive oil and salt. 

You moved with ease in your kitchen like you could find all the stuff with your eyes closed and it reminded Logan of simpler times. Him coming back from a mission to you making a meal if it wasn’t the middle of the night. He’d stick to your side like a starfish, not wanting to let go until you started complaining about your dwindling range of motion. Then he’d pull you in his lap when food was served, having you sit and feed him until you slowly stopped bringing out two plates to just one so you could eat off of one together. This domestic scene that played in front of him was something that Logan thought that he had lost forever. 

“I grew up in Butt Fuck Nowhere, USA. All there was to do for fun was go to the liquor store and get drunk in parking lots until it wasn’t just for fun but a necessity to avoid everything. Over the years I just… wandered. When I ended up in the hospital and nobody came to check on me is when it really hit. I could’ve died and I wouldn’t have anything to show for my life.” 

Once you filled a pot full of water on the stove, you toyed with the token while leaning over the counter. You spun the coin around on the table until it reached the speed to where it looked like a transparent sphere. 

“I must’ve relapsed at least 50 times when I first started going to meetings. Hell, it took me almost two years before I even went to meetings regularly. I don’t mean to lecture you or anything. Lord knows I have no business giving advice to anybody,” you chuckled. The coin slowed and collapsed on itself. You flicked it over to Logan and he caught it under his fingers. “But I do know what you’re going through. So if you feel yourself slipping let me know. It would’ve been nice to have somebody to lean on back then.” 

The only noise that could be heard in your apartment was the soft bubbling of the pasta boiling. Logan picked up the coin that you slid over to him and turned it over in his hand. The timer you set for the spaghetti beeped so you went to tend to the pot, grabbing oven mitts for the drawer and prepped your strainer. You poured out the boiling hot water in the sink, hissing when the steam billowed in your face. 

“Careful,” Logan muttered behind you, his hand on the small of your waist. He took the burning pot out of your hand with no protection and placed it back on the stove. 

“It’s just a little steam,” you waved off. “You must’ve burned yourself. Here, run your hand under cold water first.” 

You took his hand to inspect it and saw the red welts and fingertips quickly disappear back into his normal skin color. You gaped at his hand, running your fingers over his palm like a psychic reader. 

“You’re like Wade,” you gasped in awe. “No wonder he brought you home.”

He carefully slipped his hand out of your hold and held it over the sink, exposing the claws that sprung from between his knuckles. When he retracted the claws you took his fist and inspected his knuckles, trying to find the exit point with knitted eyebrows full with concern. 

“Does that hurt you?”

“I barely feel it anymore,” he shrugged. 

“How much do you know about mutants?” Logan breathed out. This was the closest you've ever been to him. He could smell your shampoo wafting off of your hair and the slightest bit of your perfume. Just like his old timeline, you always favored vanilla and coconut scents. 

“Not much. Something, something, genetic mutation, the next step for human evolution, can be a variety of different powers or appearances. I know that a few of Wade’s other friends are mutants and I unfortunately have the base model human form,” you joked. “But it’s a good thing you’re not hurt.” 

You never stopped rubbing Logan’s hand and he never took it away. Instead he pressed his palms to yours then slotted his fingers in the available spaces until he was gently holding your hand. You nervously cleared your throat but didn’t say anything for him to stop. 

“I don’t know how much of the story you got from Wade, but I had my own timeline, my own universe, that I fucked up before he pulled me out of there to save this one. You were there.” 

That made your eyebrows fly up. “Holy shit— there’s another me? Or another variant of me. I think that’s how Wade explained it.”

“Yeah, another variant of you. And I let you down. I mean I fucking blew it at the time. So I see you now, knowing that I’m being given a second chance, and fuck I’m scared I’m gonna mess it up again.” 

All the agonizing looks and sudden disappearances finally made sense. You always felt like Logan had known something about you that you weren’t aware of, albeit you weren’t thinking it was this major. Still, the corners of your mouth curled up.

“Don’t go looking too far ahead in the future, Logan. You could start small by not running out of the room when you see me and you could always stop by for dinner.” 

Logan’s heart was drumming in his chest so hard he swore you could hear it. There you went again, bridging the gap between him and you like you always did. You stated things so simply because it was that simple to you. You went back to preparing dinner, dishing out plates of spaghetti for the both of you and diving into a story about the marital issues one of your clients were having. You were so animated when you talked, your eyes bright and hands waving, he held onto every single word. Before he knew it there was no food left on his plate and you two had been talking for nearly an hour. Once he saw you yawn he excused himself, taking your plates and washing them off, promising to see you the next day and you looked happy with his new attitude. 

So Logan started small just like you said to. There wasn’t a time when he saw you that he didn’t say hi, and your face lighting up made him want to say it again and again. He surprised you with compression gloves to help your hands and offered to do your grocery shopping whenever he could. You made good on your word by bringing twice as much food over to the apartment, going as far as packing him a separate plate with his name written on a neon post it note with your curly handwriting. You had no idea how long he kept one of the notes in his pocket, neatly folded until the corners were devoid of pigment. He would swipe over it while he went to his meetings and be reminded of your encouraging voice. 

When he felt himself itching for a drink, his throat feeling dry and the tremors in his hand returning, his first call was to you. It must’ve been almost 12 am when he called the first time, but you answered and talked him down out of the bar full of his temptations and into your apartment where you had two cups of tea and a listening ear. When he didn’t want to talk you offered a distraction, putting on the shittiest comedies you found and forcing him to sit on your couch and watch them with you until the tension in his shoulders melted away and he could finally hear the voices that were coming from the tv. By that time you were already in a deep sleep, your face peaceful and the most interesting thing to watch was you, not the screen. Movie nights became a normal, weekly occurrence for the two of you after that, something that Logan looked forward to. 

Even Wade and Blind Al noticed the change in the relationship. 

“It’s always ‘where’s Logan, Logan, Logan?’ with her. Soon she won’t even bother to cook for us anymore. I used to be the only person she’d make chimichangas for so why the fuck do you get a plate now? All she cares about is that slutty waist decorated with a big fat shiny belt buckle,” Wade complained. 

“Motherfucker, if that little angel stops bringing me her sweet potato pound cakes, I will drop kick you out of the window.” Al pointed her can in the middle of Logan’s chest. 

Logan’s phone buzzed on the coffee table and all three of them turned to face it. 

“Speaking of that gorgeous devil. Must be a slow day at work if she can be sexting you. Do you even know what that is or do you only send horny notes via quill pen and carrier pigeon?” 

“Mind your own goddamn business,” Logan said, snatching up his phone before Wade could reach it. It was a message from you, and it wasn’t a sexy message at all (to someone who isn’t attracted to you like Logan was). Instead you had sent him a picture of one of your client’s hair with an intricate braid design with only your fingers in the frame. You were wearing the gloves he gave you and he was too busy looking at that than the hair. Another message popped up. 

-took me only ten hours and she tipped the same amount as the price!!!

-finally gonna buy a new stand mixer

“Oooo she sends you hand pictures. I didn’t know you had a fetish for that, you freaky frogs. Cover your eyes Althea, they’re getting nasty.”

That earned Wade three stabs in his leg and Logan stepped out of the living room to call you back in peace.

—•—

Another night eating dinner together and you excitedly pulled Logan to the kitchen and made him cover his eyes with the palms of his hands so he wouldn’t peek. He heard the fridge open and close, matches being struck, and the soft ring of utensils being set down. Then you stood behind him, replacing his hands with yours. 

“Okayyy open!” 

Logan opened his eyes to a small, round cake displayed in front of him with a single candle lit in the middle. In elaborate cursive, “Happy One Month” was written in blue and yellow frosting. He had given you his token earlier this week from his meetings with a shy smile and you were ecstatic for him. He wasn’t expecting you to do anything more than that from you because he still had a long way to go. But you stood behind Logan, your hands resting on his shoulders while you peeked over his body to try to see his expression. 

“We need to celebrate things like this,” you said fondly. “You’re doing fucking amazing.” 

Your hands left his body and you went to get plates to serve the cake with. “I hope you like chocolate cake. You seem like a chocolate type of guy.”

Your knife was poised over the cake ready to slice down when you felt Logan’s heavy hands rest on your waist. You have been trying to be normal about him for weeks, not wanting to assume that he would be interested in you now because you looked similar to someone he knew before while your own attraction was off the charts. His body heat covering your entire back and circling around your abdomen made it impossible to make a steady cut in the cake and you pulled out a crooked slice. 

“Logan?”

You pivoted on your heels to face him. His arms never loosened around your body. His expression was dark and heady, ever so ready to eat you rather than the cake. Your gaze went from his eyes to his lips before dragging back up. Heat swirled in your stomach, one that has been growing since you met him but it was finally bubbling over. 

“Nobody else would think to do this but you,” he said in a low voice. It only sent tingles right down your spine. You ran your hands on his shoulders before hooking them together behind his head. Logan slotted one leg in between yours, his thigh pressing lightly on your sex, and your lower back pressed into the table. The cool tile barely soothed your sizzling skin.

“It doesn’t take much to do,” you shrugged. “I want to cheer you on.” 

One of his hands snaked up the front of your body until he cupped your chin, tilting your head back and you both shared open mouthed breaths. You combed his nape, watching his eyes roll back into his head and he cursed. Logan’s lips came crashing down on you with reckless abandon, his tongue making quick acquaintance with the inside of your mouth and you hiked your leg up his waist to lock him in closer. He lifted you up to sit you on the counter and the heights changed. You sat a little taller than him, controlling the kiss with just as much gusto and both legs around his waist. You pushed off the jacket he was wearing, not liking how many layers of clothing were separating you from him and his hands rubbed up your bare thighs till he was under your shorts. A moan that left you biting his lip escaped your mouth and Logan showed just enough restraint to say something. 

“Tell me you want this,” Logan groaned. His gaze was so deep, full of the regret of some other timeline where he had once failed you once before and he needed to know that this wasn’t some hyper realistic dream that he was letting himself get swept into. You cupped his face, kissing the stray tear that fell from his right eye before capturing his lips again. He was hungry for you, getting drunk off the salty kiss but had enough control left to pull away and repeated himself. “Say you want this.”

“I want this,” you nodded vigorously. “I want you. The Logan that’s here in front of me. I want all of you.” 

You were afraid that your answer wasn’t enough as Logan stared at you like he couldn’t believe that you were real. His head dropped to your shoulder and your hands made home in his hair. You gently scraped his scalp with your nails when you felt open mouth kisses on the side of your neck that shot electricity through your veins. You hummed quietly, sagging into his embrace and he continued his burning map of passion down your body. He heaved you off of the countertop, walking over to your sectional rather than your room because he couldn’t afford to waste any more time before settling into the soft cushions with you on top of him. Your mouths were back on each other, feverishly seeking what the other was offering in a desperate manner. Teeth clashing on each other did nothing to slow you down outside of giving you a moment to breathe before you could get lightheaded.

Logan’s large hands roamed over your body, nearly tearing off your shorts to feel the wetness of your pussy. You meweled when his fingers slipped past your folds and smeared the arousal he gathered from your entrance. Not wanting to be the only one feeling good, you worried his belt buckled, jerking the leather out of the way to free his length from the confinements of his pants. Your fingers wrapped around his cock strung out a long groan from Logan from deep inside his chest. You were equally as loud, whimpering whenever he circled your clit and clenching your thighs around his hips. 

“Holy fuck, Logan,” you shuddered. He inserted another one of his thick fingers, moving two in a scissoring fashion that made your vision hazy around the corners. You were tight and he wanted to take his time preparing you, but you were riding his hand and his palms were drenched in your arousal. You spat in your hand and pumped his cock faster, taking his mouth again for a dizzying kiss. 

“That’s enough,” he growled out. With a bruising grip he guided your hips to line up with his stiff cock. His tip nudged your oversensitive bundle of nerves and you hissed, your fingers digging in his shoulders. You sank down slowly on him, his cock splitting you open with a delicious stretch you had been imagining for weeks now. None of your toys could compare to the real thing. Logan coaxed you to keep your eyes on him while he fucked you from below. Your lashes were lined with tears as you slid down inch by tantalizing inch of his length. You still had your top on and that was a problem for Logan. He hastily pushed your shirt off of your body and was rewarded to your breasts falling in his face. If he could smother himself with them he could. Your nipples stood out, clearly begging for his attention, and he flattened his tongue to lap them up. 

You clutched him to your chest, gasping and writhing on top of him, still trying to get down to the base. He closed the gap, bucking his hips up with a satisfying slap to the back of your thigh.

“Yesss,” you hissed. “God yes.” Logan was fully seated inside of you, your velvet walls pulsing around him in an intoxicating rhythm. A sob of relief fell from your lips when he controlled the tempo from below. He could leave handprints on your ass with how tightly he was holding you, rolling your hips, hurtling you towards an orgasm. It was your turn to take off his shirts. You didn’t need anything to slow the large wave of pleasure ready to crash over you. Once you had a clear view of his top half, viewing his muscles that flexed from holding you up, you splayed your hands on his broad chest to steady you. His hands wrapped around your wrists, bringing one up to kiss the pulse point that was beating a hundred miles a minute, then drag his tongue over the vein. He left open-mouth marks up your arm, pulling you closer until it was your lips he was devouring once again. 

Logan’s thumb stimulated your clit and you whimpered in his mouth. You were forehead to forehead, eyelashes tangling with each other with each blink. You always broke contact first, too overwhelmed with the building pressure deep in your core and Logan would lure you back to him. 

“Don’t leave me all alone, pretty,” he moaned, and it was all it took to have you staring deep in his eyes again. 

You came crying out Logan’s name. You buried your face in his neck, rolling your hips feverishly against him to ride out the rest of your high. His arms laced around your back, holding you together as you fell apart. When you released the final heaving breath he flipped you on your back on the couch, slipping out of your sex to settle his head between your plush thighs. 

“Whaa–?” You were still dazed, floating in the cloud with slight tremors running through your body, only being brought back down to earth when you felt the brush of Logan’s beard on the inside of your leg. 

“You have no idea how good you smell,” he gritted out. 

He was practically salivating at the sight of your pussy, his hand cupping your ass and he spread your legs further apart so that no part of you was hidden. You rested on your elbows to watch him from down below, his hazel eyes blown wide at the feast presented to him. He dived in nose deep, messily eating you out, drenching the bottom half of his face from his spit and your arousal that dripped all over the couch. Your hands made a home in his head of hair, tugging him to and fro whenever you thought you were close. Arching your back off the couch offered you no break, Logan’s hands curled around you to keep you in place and firmly stuck on his mouth. He enjoyed the harsh pulls on his scalp, the way that you murmured sorry like you could actually hurt him. “Lo–logan,” you whined out. It was almost too much to bear. He was relentless, his oral fixation on your clit becoming numbing as your nerves were in overdrive. Your nails clawed his back, the tops of his shoulders, trying to find purchase in anything to keep from the mounting spiraling sensation that kept you crying for him. 

“Keep saying my name like that,” he commanded. It came out muffled, you didn’t actually hear a word that came out of his mouth, but you felt the vibrations of them and it made more tears fall from your eyes. 

He moved from fucking you with his tongue to slipping his fingers inside, crooking them up to your spot and keeping a tight seal on your clit. Your release hit you like a freight train. You clamped your shaking thighs together around his head, and Logan fucked you through it until you were sobbing, begging him to let you breathe. Every muscle in your body was trembling from the gratifying exertion. 

However, Logan was far from finished with you. 

His beard was slick with your second orgasm. He finally came up for air, kissing up your softness of your stomach, a slow trail through the middle of your chest.“You taste fucking amazing too.” 

“Let me see,” you crooned, cuffing the back of his neck to mash your lips on his. Both your arms and legs wrapped around Logan, containing his body in your embrace with the rest of the strength you could muster up. He slipped inside of your cunt in one fluid motion, fucking you to the edge once again. You fluttered and clenched around him, his strokes languid yet hitting your spot with precision. You were beyond fucked out, a blubbering mess that wanted him to finish inside of you. 

“Please, please, please give it to me. Come on– fuck, baby,” you begged. “Don’t you wanna come inside?” 

“Asking so nicely,” he gave a low chuckle. “How bad do you want it?”

Your hands squeezing his ass was all the answer he needed. Logan was notched deep inside of you, hips rolling and teeth bared over your skin. Desperation fueled him. The need to make you completely his, filling you up with his come. Your eyes wandered to between you, the point where you both were conjoined to watch the raunchy scene of his cock fucking your slippery pussy with amazement. You glided your finger over your clit for one more high with Logan’s filthy words in your ears. 

“Come for me, sweetheart. One more time and I’ll give you exactly what you're begging for. You already made a fucking mess everywhere–” 

You crested with a high keen that made everything flash white. The sheer force of your orgasm had you coming for what seemed to be a few long minutes. Words were useless to describe the lewdness of your moans accompanied with the final, sharp snaps of his hips on the back of your thighs. Logan couldn’t hold out any longer, finally spilling inside of you with a growling shout. His hands were sunken inside of a decorative pillow above your head on your couch that was ruined from his claws extending at the height of his peak. Ragged pants were shared between you, heart rates finally slowly. You locked your legs around his waist, wanting Logan to lay his full weight on top of your body like a stone press. You basked in the afterglow, grazing your nails on his skin, enjoying his body heat. He nestled further into your neck, breathing in your scent, content with your affectionate embrace. Logan could finally put all worries of ruining his relationship with you in this world to bed.  

—•—

You weren’t sure if you had slept for only a few minutes or hours, but you woke up feeling hungry, sore, and overheated.  It was all due to Logan, who was starfishing on top of your body. Only one hand was curved around your waist to ensure that you wouldn’t escape even while he was in the dreamlands and you chuckled. You took the liberty of touching him freely while he slumbered, craning your neck to skate your finger down the slope of his nose and cheek. His nose twitched, shaking off your finger to remain sleeping. You really had to pee but you didn’t want to disturb him. That’s when you realized that you were no longer on the couch like you were the night before. You don’t know how many times you did it, how many positions you went through with the insatiable man who craved you for hours. He must’ve carried you to the bed when you were too tired to walk on your own and when you ran you hand down on parts of your body that wasn’t buried under him you were clean. You thought about waking him up so you could convince him to take a shower with him when your phone rang on your nightstand. You felt your way to grabbing it, stretching your arm as far out as you could to snatch it off the table and read the caller ID. 

“Wade, this better be important.” 

“Good morning to you too, sunshine. I just wanted to say the headphones you got Al work great. After the third, or was it the fourth round, I put those bad boys on and couldn’t hear a thing. Send me the link so I can buy them for myself.”

You threw your arm over your eyes in embarrassment. “Fuck me, you heard us?”

“Oh yeah,” he snickered. “You two sounded like banshees fucking on a rollercoaster. Tell me, is he huge down under? I would take a hike down his happy trail any day.” 

“I’m hanging up now,” you said, and did just that. You tossed your phone back on your nightstand when Logan rustled. 

“Who was that?” His voice was even deeper than usual, hitting your ears with a delicious gravelly tone. You pressed your legs together at the sound of him. 

“Wade. Just know that he heard us and will be an annoying little shit about it.”

“Fucking great,” he groaned. You combed your fingers through his hair to soothe him. 

You were going to say something else when the state of your pillow caught your attention. 

“Holy shit,” you murmured, running your hand over the torn fabric. Three streaks sliced through it, exposing the soft down within. Logan tilted his head to see what you were looking at and winced. 

“I’ll replace that too.” 

You could only laugh in disbelief. His chin rested on your sternum and you held an amused expression, a small smile dancing on your lips. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“My question is finally answered. You wake up with the little cat ears.”

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

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[les4elliewilliams]

❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞ – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. 

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞

ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.

✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 10k words⨾ cursing⨾ angst⨾ cheating⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT (porn with plot)⨾ fingering (𝑒!receiving)⨾ cum eating??⨾ pussy slapping ⨾ thigh riding (r!receiving)⨾ reader is a milf lover⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ jealousy issues⨾ use of names (babygirl, sweetheart, baby, babe, slut/whore, etc...)⨾ lmk if i missed anything!

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕ last chapter of part one, finally!! I will start working on the sequel soon (hopefully), I PROMISE there's gonna be a happy ending + an extra drabble/chapter🙄. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕@pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @satellitespinner @boobdrug @ivying @elliewilliamsbelovedwife @mina-281 @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @chxrryvalxntine @bookpagecandlescent @fionaapplelover2010 @andersonslove @macaroni676 @elliesbabygirl @vampcubus @visupremacysstuff @elssaphica @kaykeryyy @nenas19 @rxreaqia @fatbootymuncher @dying-brb @euphoric-rush @intothespidersweb @d1psht

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆ 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

31st of August.

Ellie desperately tried to stay away from you, avoiding you like the plague, but her efforts never lasted long. You were too radiant to ignore, too mesmerizing not to be near, and too addictive to avoid speaking to. She was drawn back to you, just like every time she tried to walk away. It wasn’t just a simple matter of having her wrapped around your finger; she was completely captivated by you in body, mind, and soul. You had a hold on her in a way that felt like possessing a voodoo doll made of her hair and personal trinkets. She was as dependent on you as a flower is on water and the moon is on the sun, although the sun never relied on the moon to shine.

The redhead observed you as you conversed with a local customer at the pool, a middle-aged single mother with sleek black hair and icy blue eyes, the reincarnation of Megan Fox—except that Megan Fox was still alive. Her piercing gaze might have intimidated others, but not you. Instead, you smiled warmly and laughed softly as she spoke, your widest smile on full display each time she said something amusing.

Ellie didn’t think too much of it; after all, you were always overly sweet and nice to clients, everyone but her and the people who worked with you—or for you. She didn’t think too much of it until that woman scribbled something down on a napkin from the box on the counter, right beside her elbow, that comfortably rested on the black marble. The woman handed it to you, and the smile she gave you after was less polite. Was this shit even allowed in here?

Ellie wanted to come at you, yell, and fuss at you about it, but she held back. She knew you would brush her off and act like you weren’t knuckles deep inside her sopping hole last night and like she hadn’t been chanting your name like you were the fucking holy Mary herself. You’d treat her like you usually did in public: like you despised her, so she avoided that.

She stood by the deck, Jesse at her side, both enveloped in a serene silence. Unbeknownst to her, his deep chocolate eyes had been studying her attentively. His gaze followed hers, fixing on you, who appeared to be flirting with a woman twice your age.

Ever since Ellie started working here, she had been behaving strangely, a fact that didn’t escape Dina’s notice. Despite Dina’s efforts to point it out, Jesse claimed he couldn’t quite see what she was talking about. The brunette strongly believed that her best friend was keeping something from them, acting mysteriously and evasively about her whereabouts. Ellie always seemed busy whenever they wanted to hang out, and she would never fully explain where she was or what she was up to.

Jesse nonchalantly dismissed the situation, attributing Ellie’s behavior to her quirks. There was some truth to his comment—Ellie often guarded her feelings like an ancient mummy, whatever she was going through. Yet, as he observed the jealousy creeping over her face like an ominous shadow, her previously soft features hardening, he knew. Her airy scoff confirmed his suspicions, prompting him to address the issue directly, not treading lightly around the matter.

“Is it her that you’re seeing?” the Asian asked abruptly, his words filled with pure curiosity. He spoke in a hushed tone, making sure their conversation remained private. Ellie’s heart sank at his direct question, causing her to freeze as her face lost whatever color it had, turning even paler than usual. 

Her first thought was, “Is he going to tell Dina?” and then, “Dina’s gonna kill me,” though the latter was a common affirmation that popped into her mind whenever she messed up somehow. Dina often acted like an overprotective mother every second of the day, always quick to scold and lecture her. Not even Maria did that, and she was the closest thing she had to a mother figure.

As her mind raced with uncertainty, Jesse quickly interjected, seeking to soothe her fears with a reassuring tone, “Not gonna tell anyone, y’know.” he said, his voice soft but resolute, sensing her internal conflict.

She exhaled shakily and murmured a quiet, “Yes.” Her eyes darted away from his, finding solace in the chaotic beauty of the pool filled with kids and families. “But she doesn’t want anyone to know,” she added quickly, her gaze dropping to her lap as she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“Did she tell you why?”

“She’s not ready, she’s not even out yet,” the anxious girl explained with a huff, reluctantly meeting his eyes again. She could already feel his judgment, knew he’d think she was being naive, and that she should end things before it got worse.

“Is she serious about it?” he couldn’t help but retort, a hint of disbelief in his voice. He’d just seen you flirting with another woman moments ago, the memory fresh and irritating.

“It’s... we’re just hooking up,” Ellie revealed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“So it’s not.”

“No, it’s just too early to say. She said she needs time to—” Jesse’s sarcastic scoff cut her off. She gave him a puzzled look, her brows arching in confusion. “What?”

“You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?” he rhetorically asked, his voice quiet and scolding, careful to keep their conversation private.

“What—I’m not being stupid. She needs time. We talked about it last night—I can’t force her to come out when she doesn’t feel ready. It’s not fair to her.” Ellie’s tone grew defensive, a shield against his skepticism. But she knew he was right. This whole hookup thing wasn’t something she even wanted. 

“Yeah. How long has she been telling you she needs time?” Jesse shot back quickly, his words like arrows, ready to prove his point.

Ellie stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question hanging heavy between them. “‘S not like that,” she finally mumbled.

“What is it like then?” he challenged, not missing a beat. “Look—you do you, man. If you’re happy, I’m happy and all that shit. But she doesn’t exactly have a good reputation. She’s gonna break your heart,” he stated with a frustrating certainty.

“You don’t know that,” she snapped back, her voice laced with desperation.

“Neither do you.” A sarcastic chuckle from her friend broke the tension between them. “I really hope you don’t get hurt in the end,” he concluded, getting up and casually strolling away after a few kids who weren’t wearing their swimming caps, his trustworthy whistle in his hand.

Ellie watched him walk away, a rush of conflicting emotions flooding through her. Anger and doubt churned within her as she turned her gaze back to the pool, the cheerful laughter of the children now fading into the background. Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when you sat down on the white plastic chair beside her. “Hey, Nelly,” you said, your tone cool and composed, maintaining your mean-girl facade, especially in the presence of others. Your mask remained firmly in place, a deliberate refusal to show vulnerability. Despite your determination to be different from your parents, who prioritized outward appearances, you couldn’t help but feel like you were following in their footsteps. The apple did not fall too far from the tree.

“Hey,” Ellie greeted, her usually buoyant tone noticeably absent.

You turned to look at her, your eyebrow raising in a perfect arc as you gazed at her inquisitively. “What’s with the attitude?”

The autumn-haired girl found herself unable to shake off Jesse’s words. They reverberated through her mind, planting seeds of doubt and uncertainty. She desperately wished Jesse had misjudged you; he didn’t know you like she did. How could he possibly pass judgment without truly knowing you? Yet, a rational part of her refused to be silenced, urging her to pay heed to those nagging doubts and not to confuse overthinking with intuition.

Ellie’s words slipped out before she could stop herself, her tone accusatory and colder than she intended. “What’s with that woman who just gave you her number?”

You looked back at her in surprise, and your lips formed an “oh” before you quickly offered a plausible excuse. “Babysitting.”

“Babysitting?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she locked eyes with you, her expression oozing with skepticism. “Since when do you even babysit?”

“It’s always been something I’ve done,” you replied, unfazed by her doubt.

“Sure, like you really need the extra cash,” she quipped, still skeptical.

“I really do. I can’t keep relying on my parents for everything,” you calmly asserted. There was no hint of defensiveness in your voice; you spoke with a sense of certainty, that it made her feel stupid for questioning your commitment, but she didn’t let it show. 

“Okay,” she sighed out, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders.

“Are you coming to the beach tonight? There’s going to be a campfire and free drinks,” you asked, propping your elbows on the arms of the plastic chair as you leaned back, smirking in her direction.

“Yeah, gonna see you there?” the freckled girl inquired with a touch of optimism reflected in her expression. The sun beamed down on her, highlighting her green eyes, making them appear even more vibrant and clear.

“Of course, you’re going to see me there.” your smile grew wider as you replied.

And she did see you there, locked in a passionate kiss with some nameless guy on a bench. 

Ellie’s heart splintered into thousands of fragments. It felt as if her insides plunged deeper than the Titanic, the weight of her emotions pressing them down. Despite the overwhelming urge to scream and cry, she found herself unable to produce any sound. Her eyes remained dry, failing to well up with the salty tears that typically accompanied emotional pain. The sea wind tousled her auburn hair, leaving a faint, familiar saltiness behind. Her skin was ablaze, and her stomach churned with disgust, threatening to expel its contents. 

Everyone had warned her about you, and they had been right all along.

You didn’t give a damn, you never did. Were any of the sweet words you whispered to her even true? Was she just one of many? Ellie’s mind was a whirlwind of endless questions, most of them rooted in self-doubt. She wasn’t good enough for you, she’d never been. She was never going to measure up to your standards, to your expectations. She was never enough. You were flawless, admired, it only made sense that someone like you would never genuinely desire someone like her. Why would you? She wasn’t attractive, wealthy, or widely liked. She was just an unremarkable, tangled mess of poor humor and peculiarities. You, however, were a living Greek god, cruelly playing with her mind, and shamelessly taking more and more of her, each time she gave you everything she had to offer.

It felt as if Cupid himself had conspired against her, allowing her to experience and savor something that would never belong to her. Unbeknownst to her, even something as lovely as a lily, one of the most exquisite blossoms, could conceal danger beneath its pink velvety petals. She was like a curious cat, irresistibly drawn to the intrigue and allure of the forbidden flower, unaware of its poisonous nature.

3rd of September.

The following days were plagued with ignored phone calls and messages left on read. Ellie had given you the cold shoulder; her silent treatment was supposed to be a form of punishment, but it didn’t last long. 

You explained everything, saying it was a misunderstanding, revealing that the guy named Jason had kissed you without your consent and that you had forcefully pushed him away. Ellie left hastily, missing the part where you had angrily stormed off after rejecting his advances. 

The auburnette felt a wave of reassurance, knowing that she was the only one for you, that your eyes were solely for her. She trusted you wholeheartedly.

And you were back in her life, in her house, in her bed, between her thighs. 

Your spit drenched her aching core, cascading over her engorged clit, the pink throbbing bud begging for your attention. The sight of her slick, swollen folds will never stop driving you crazy. Put on display for your eyes only, as sweet as the ripest fruit. Her pussy quivered beneath your gaze, and a sharp slap to her wet cunt echoed through the room, making her whimper, her hips stuttering and jerking, eyes flashing open to meet yours. “Look at this pussy… so fucking messy, baby,” you purred, a wicked grin curling at the corners of your lips. The look in your eyes was one of an insatiable beast, ready to take away from her once again.

“Stop fuckin’ teasing me,” Ellie whined, her hips bucking frantically against the warm palm nestled on her throbbing core. Her breath hitched as your thumb danced with her arousal, teasing her sensitive clit.  “Can’t take it anymore,” she choked out. Desperation began to etch itself into her captivating features as her fluffy, scarred brows contracted together. This subtle expression only seemed to heighten her already striking appearance, adding a sense of vulnerability that made your head spin. 

“Hm... Quit acting like a brat and hold still for me,” you spat, your gaze locked onto hers, “Beg for it, and I might just give it to you.”

Ellie’s heart hammered in her chest at your authoritative tone, her body responding instinctively to your dominance. A shiver coursed through her spine, and a flush of heat spread across her cheeks. She bit her lip, trying to hold still and control the urge to squirm under your touch, her breathing growing shallow with anticipation and need.

Her voice cracked as she begged, “Please.” One of her hands reached out, desperate to grab your free hand. But the freckled girl’s weak pleas met deaf ears; it wasn’t enough for you, she could do better. Her moss-green eyes pleaded with you as she watched your thumb trace small circles on her hip, keeping her in place.

Your lips brushed against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, teasing her mercilessly, your touch intentionally calculated to drive her wild. You knew exactly how to play your cards right, how to play her like a finely tuned instrument, and it amused you how easy it was to reduce her to a quivering, whiny mess. But you relished in her simplicity, in how the smallest actions could ignite such a strong reaction from her.

“Please,” Ellie’s breaths came in small, shuddered gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each inhale and exhale. Her mind was filled with nothing but you and how you made her feel. “Please, please, I missed you.” Her words’ raspy, vulnerable tone was like music to your ears, pleasing your ego at the knowledge that she depended on you, that she was putty in your hands. Her vulnerability only highlighted how completely she was under your control, and the feeling was flattering and exhilarating. The auburnette submitted to you so easily, without questioning it or fighting back; it was cute, really. She let you play with her body however, whenever, and wherever you liked.

“Missed me, yeah?” You smirked at her, your voice dripping with confidence as you cooed softly. 

Ellie didn’t even need to confirm it to you. You could see how much she had missed you, how much she had craved your touch and sweet lies. The freckled girl melted in your arms the second you drove to her house after hours of begging to see you. She needed to see you, needed to feel you, kiss you, touch you. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze met yours, your eagerness for her evident in every line and muscle of your body. She felt wanted, desired, and important whenever she was in your presence, and the feeling was addictive. Perhaps that was what she loved the most about being with you—the feeling of being so completely desired, so utterly needed. She found herself questioning if anyone had ever made her feel this way before. Certainly not her ex-girlfriends (or situationships); they paled in comparison to how you made her feel. You had the ability to make her feel like a teenager in love for the first time again, like a virgin exploring uncharted territory.

“Couldn’t get off without your help,” Ellie’s voice was soft and vulnerable as she confessed her weakness for you, the pout on her face almost making your heart lurch.  

“Such a fucking needy slut,” You chuckled dryly, your eyes focused intently on her, drinking in her every reaction as if she was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. She was sprawled out before you, all spread out and vulnerable, her core glistening with arousal and your spit, begging for your touch, yet not giving her what she craved the most.

“Please, I need you.” She pleaded one last time, her voice soft and desperate, her body trembling as your thumb began to tease her aching bud. A stifled moan escaped her lips as the pleasure washed over her, causing her to gasp in response. 

“You all good up there?” You taunted her, struggling to contain a small chuckle at her frustration. Her freckled face was flushed, her cheeks tinted with a blush that betrayed her embarrassment. You had barely even touched her, and yet she was already losing her shit, her body responding eagerly to your every caress. 

“Yeah, just…” The auburnette’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, trying with all her might to hold back the lewd noises that threatened to escape. 

“Just?” you prompted, your fingers continuing to move over her sensitive folds, feeling her slickness. You began to rub at her entrance, making her squirm and moan; she had been craving your touch and attention so much that it almost made her insane. “Fuck, look at you, baby girl.” you husked under your breath. “So needy for me.” It was downright lewd how drenched Ellie was for you, her pink pussy glistened with pearly precum, making your mouth water at the sight. It was like homemade chocolate chip cookies, the kind that could make anyone salivate, especially when they were still warm and the aroma of sweetness filled the air. She had the same exact effect on you. She tasted exquisite, and you just couldn't get enough, always craving more of her, just like she craved more of you.

Ellie’s breath hitched as your middle finger teased her entrance, moving painfully slow. She could tell you were doing it on purpose. You were never known for your patience, but you were taking your sweet time with her, making her feel every little movement. The sensations were overwhelming, and she knew you were doing it intentionally to drive her crazy. “M-more… nghh… fuck.” Her back arched in response, her hand gripping yours tightly as she desperately tried to push her hips further down onto your fingers.

Your eyes were glued to her starved cunt and the way your finger disappeared into her so easily, swallowing it shamelessly; her warm walls pulsated around your digit, and tiny, little puffs of breath escaped her lips as she struggled to hold herself together. Every breath she took strained with the effort to keep herself composed, her face a beautiful contradiction of desire and restraint. 

“You weren’t lying, huh? You really did miss me.” You chuckled, amused, the circles on her clit growing faster as your finger moved slowly in and out of her, maintaining a steady, teasing rhythm. 

“I wasn’t,” Ellie said breathlessly, as if a powerful force had drained all the breath away from her. 

You smirked at her confirmation; she depended on you as much as you depended on every little sound she let out for you, urging you to go on. It was what replayed in your head whenever you finger-fucked your own needy hole, clenching her name around your fingers. You had missed her so much. You missed the feeling of her cunt spasming around your fingers, the high-pitched and persistent mewls that came with her impending orgasm, the arch of her back, her abdomen tensing and contracting whenever you fucked her way too fast for her to keep up.

“What about the nudes I sent you, hm?” you questioned, your voice as soft as cotton, caressing all her senses like some melody that haunted her every dream.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a plea, a prayer for more. The sight of the freckled girl—so vulnerable, so open—stirred something primal within you. You watched how her body responded to your touch, how her skin flushed and her muscles tensed under your fingertips. The slick heat of her, the way she pulsated around your finger, was intoxicating. 

Ellie remembered the late nights, alone in her bed, your photos lighting up her screen. The way she’d trace the curves of your body with her eyes, imagining her hands in their place. The way she’d whisper your name, a litany of desire, as she plunged her fingers into her own wet heat, pretending it was you. But even then, it wasn’t enough. 

Those fantasies paled in comparison to reality. 

“Fucking slut… did you touch yourself thinking of me?” you murmured, your voice a low purr that sent shivers down her spine. “Did you imagine my fingers inside you, like this?”

Her response was a choked moan, her hips rocking against your hand, seeking more. You pressed a kiss to her thigh, your breath hot against her skin, savoring the way she writhed under your touch. 

She gasped as you added another finger, complying with her silent request for more. “Needed m- ahhh… more than—” words failed her as you began to pump them in and out of her faster, her legs twitching each time you brushed that spongy spot inside her just to make her little brain go blank. What a brainless fucking whore.

“Than what? Finish your sentence, sweetheart. What do you need from me?” Your voice was a perfect and deadly mix of sultriness and honey sweetness.

“Needed you to fuck me,” Ellie’s voice turned whiny and high-pitched, sounding like she was about to cry. She sighed complacently when you slammed your fingers deeper inside her in response. She had truly been trying to get off to your pictures, your tits out of your black lacy bra for her to see, but it wasn’t enough. All she could think about was the aching absence of your touch and how desperately she longed to lay her dirty hands on your sacred body. It hit her then that she was utterly ruined, unable to get off without your assistance anymore; you had thoroughly spoiled her and her body, and her mind had been reprogrammed to crave you for every desire, however big or small. 

“Like this, yeah?” A frenetic nod was all you got in return. Your glistening fingers continued their relentless movements, and your thumb flicked her puffy clit.

Each pump drew a curse from her. Her breaths were shallow gasps punctuated by moans that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. You could feel her inner walls contracting around your fingers, her slick heat enveloping you in a way that made your own core ache. 

“Fuck… close?” Her response was a breathless sob, freckled body arching off the bed as her orgasm built, a storm gathering strength. You could see it in the way her muscles tensed, the way her breaths came faster, more erratic.

“Please,” she begged, barely more than a breathy whisper. “Please, I need—”

“I know, baby. I know.” Your thumb circled her clit with a newfound intensity, your fingers curling inside her just right, hitting her g-spot with precision. “Come for me.”

The auburnette’s eyelids fluttered shut and her head fell back into the soft embrace of her light blue pillow. You marveled at the expression of blissful ecstasy dancing across her face, watching her lips form incoherent words that echoed through the room. With a final, shuddering cry, she came apart, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Her inner walls pulsed around your fingers, her juices coating your hand as you worked her through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure, making every moment last longer, leaving her wholly spent and utterly satiated.

When all her nectar coated your fingers, you gently withdrew your digits, eager to taste her. The taste was rather divine, like nothing you had ever tasted, a taste uniquely hers. Something you couldn’t quite find anywhere else. “You taste delicious,” you commented with a sly smile.

Ellie was winded and her face glistening with a sheen of sweat, dilated pupils fixing on yours as she tried to catch breath, her parted lips letting puffs of air in and out, unevenly. “Do I?”

“Hmm-hmm,” you hummed, crawling on top of her and settling into her lap. She lazily wrapped her arms around your waist, her damp, freckled back sticking against the headboard as she sat up slightly. The soft sheets rustled beneath you, adding to the moment’s intimacy.

Your eyes locked, an intense connection sparking between you. Ellie’s gaze seemed to drown in your irises, captivated by every little sparkle, every shade and discolored spot. A stupidly soft smile spread across her face, as if she were staring at the most precious thing in her life. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this shared bubble of affection.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” Her voice was like a gentle whisper, with a hint of raspiness as she delicately tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Her touch sent a shiver down your spine.

You hummed at her words, a playful smirk curling your lips. “Yeah, I get that quite a lot.”

The auburnette scoffed in mock disbelief, her brows arching dramatically. “Oh really? Who dared to compliment my girl, hm?” Feigning jealousy, she pulled you closer by your waist. “Gonna have to beat them up,” she muttered sarcastically under her breath, her tone light and teasing.

You couldn’t help but giggle softly, the sound mingling with the moment’s warmth. Ellie’s playful protectiveness only made your heart swell more, and you leaned in, your foreheads touching. 

She pulled you flush against her, your bare chest sticking to hers, the sweat covering her body almost acting as a glue binding you together. Her face nestled into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as she closed her eyes, leaving a trail of soft kisses along your skin.

“Hmm… what’re you doing?” you whispered, melting into her touch.

“Tryna make you feel good—can’t I make my favorite girl feel good?” Her voice was a hushed murmur against your neck, a blend of warmth and affection. A small, breathy laugh was all you could manage in response, tilting your head slightly to give her better access. Her hands wandered up and down your sides, leaving a tingling path in their wake.

“You sure your dad won’t be home anytime soon?” you asked, a hint of nervousness lacing your voice as you tried to pull away. Each time you leaned back, she’d draw you closer, unwilling to let go.

“He won’t be until tomorrow,” she muttered between the kisses she peppered along your neck, “Relax and let me take care of you.” Her lips slowly trailed up your jaw, finally capturing yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, pouring all her feelings into it. Her hands pulled you close with a hunger that spoke of a desire to absorb you, to make you a part of her very being.

Your eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around her neck as you lost yourselves in the kiss.

One of your hands found its way to her little bun, fingers playing and gently tugging at it. The kiss was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the usual fervor you shared. It felt as if the world around you had shifted, the atmosphere turning more intimate, echoing the same familiar yet foreign sensation that had enveloped you that afternoon in the shower.

A moan reverberated against the freckled girl’s lips, resonating like a tender symphony, compelling her to savor its melody, to capture it and make it her own. Yet, an insatiable yearning gnawed at her core, craving something deeper, something beyond the mere physical.

When you parted, breathless and hearts pounding in synchrony, the connection between your gazes transformed the moment into an eternal tableau. 

“Will you let me take control this time?” Ellie mumbled, her voice soft as silk, her words a delicate caress that brushed against your senses like the first light of dawn. A smile played on her perfect, heart-shaped lips, a subtle curve that promised both mischief and tenderness.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re a pillow princess,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your mouth, the playful jab rolling off your tongue with ease.

Ellie’s eyes sparkled with amusement, softly gasping as if you’d just said the most outrageous thing. "I am not!" she protested, her jaw dropping in a show of mock indignation, though the laughter in her eyes gave her away.

“Are so,” you shot back, not missing a beat.

She shook her head, a pout forming as she defended herself, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and a touch of longing. “You never let me take control,” she countered, eyebrows arching as she tried to make her point.

“As if you’ve ever tried,” you quipped, your smirk widening, knowing exactly how to push her buttons.

“I did try, you just never let me,” she insisted, her tone soft yet pointed, like she was stating an undeniable truth. “You always push me down and do whatever,” she added, her words tinged with just the right amount of accusation.

“Maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” you challenged, the playful edge in your voice unmistakable as the banter continued to flow between you, each word filled with barely contained desire.

Her brows shot up, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the challenge. “Oh, is that so?” Ellie smirked, accepting the unspoken dare. Without missing a beat, she shifted you onto her thigh, her hands firm but gentle as she guided you, ensuring that her thigh was perfectly placed between your own.

“Is that it? You want me to ride your thigh?” you chuckled, a playful glint in your eyes as the absurdity of the situation hit you, making you bite back a laugh.

“C’mon, cowgirl, show me your moves,” she teased, her tone lighthearted, yet there was an undeniable heat beneath her words. Her hands guided your hips, encouraging you to move against her, the friction deliciously teasing, her comical words pulling a soft laugh from you.

“Cowgirl?” you echoed, amusement threading through your voice as your hands found their place on her shoulders for balance. Slowly, you began to move, a back-and-forth rhythm building, her toned thigh pressing against your most sensitive spot.

“Well, I don’t have a strap yet, so…” the redhead offered with a playful shrug, her nonchalance almost comical in its delivery.

“Yet?” you repeated, your eyebrow arching as curiosity piqued, the simple word holding a world of possibilities.

“Mhm, yet,” she confirmed with a sly smile, her hands tightening on your hip bones, pressing you down onto her thigh with just the right amount of pressure. The heat of her skin against your wetness sent a shiver up your spine, her own breath hitching at the intimate contact. 

That’s why she never took control—because, as much as she wanted to, you made her weak in the knees, her heart race, and her breath catch in her throat. 

As you rocked against her, a muffled whimper escaped your lips, a sound she drank in like the sweetest melody, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but your breathless sighs, your shared laughter, and the electric tension between you, growing hotter with every passing second.

“Does it feel good, yeah?” Ellie whispered, her face so close to yours that your breaths mingled, a shared warmth in the small space between you.

“Yeah, you feel good,” you murmured back, her green eyes utterly captivated by the rhythm of your hips as they rolled against her. You didn’t need her to guide you, every movement was instinctual, as natural as breathing. Her breath caught in her throat, almost as if she were the one trying to get off on your thigh, mesmerized by the glistening trail you left behind. 

“Fuck, look at that,” she breathed out, her voice thick with awe and desire.

Immaculate mewls spilled from your lips as her hands tightened on your hips, urging you to move faster, her fingers digging into your skin like she never wanted to let you go. “Just like that… atta girl,” the red-brown-haired girl encouraged, her words a soothing balm that only stoked the fire burning in your belly.

You leaned into her, your breasts pressing against her chest, your face nuzzling into the crook of her neck, seeking her out like a lifeline. Ellie responded in kind, her lips finding the beauty marks on your shoulders, kissing them as if tracing an invisible constellation only she could see. Your breathy moans, warm and desperate, hit the back of her neck, sending shivers cascading down her spine, weakening her resolve with each shaky exhale.

“You feel so good,” you purred in her ear, your voice sweet yet intoxicating, like honey laced with something dangerous. Your breath tickled that sensitive spot behind her ear, goosebumps erupting on her skin as butterflies danced wildly in her stomach. Feeling your heat seep into her, feeling you so close, so alive against her—she knew she’d never get enough of you.

“So does your pussy... all wet for me,” she rasped out, pulling you even closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. Your ragged breathing was like music to her ears, each pant and whimper a testament to how perfectly she was taking care of you. You continued to grind against her thigh, the tension in your lower abdomen coiling tighter with each roll of your hips, your clit moving in a maddening rhythm that made you whimper against her freckled skin.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, the word slipping from your lips like a prayer. “All wet for you,” you echoed absentmindedly, the urgency in your movements growing, driven by the mounting pressure, each second pulling you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in her red hair, tightening as your eyes fluttered shut, your breaths growing more erratic. 

Watching you ride her like this was the hottest thing Ellie had ever seen. It made her pulse quicken and her thoughts spiral into fantasies—fantasies of you riding her strap instead, making you tremble like a leaf, scream her name in ecstasy. She wondered if your sinful moans and cries would haunt her dreams every night; it seemed like a plausible fate.

“Mine… alllll mine,” she murmured in your ear, her hands tracing your sides with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment, holding you as if you were something precious and fragile, something that could shatter at any moment. 

Your soft gasps were like a tantalizing torture, making her sage-hued eyes roll back in bliss. You were so addictive, and she was like an addict, desperate for every sound, every breath you gave her. “Hmm, yeah,” you whispered breathlessly back, your voice mindless yet so full of emotion, causing her heart to flip and twist in ways she never thought possible.

Ellie gently cupped your chin, turning your face toward hers, never once stopping the hypnotic roll of your hips. Her thumb pressed lightly against your chin, holding you there, your eyes locked onto hers, sharing a silent conversation only the two of you could understand.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she husked, her words like a spell, and you were powerless against them. Your gaze fell to her lips, mesmerized by the way they formed each tender word. She leaned in, kissing you softly but with a passion that ignited every nerve in your body. It was strange and new, yet it felt like something that was always meant to happen. 

Her freckled arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, and your arms looped around her neck, holding her as if letting go would mean losing everything. Your hips never stopped moving, the rhythm growing more frantic, your ragged breaths mingling, creating an orchestral piece of pure, unfiltered desire.

And then, the tension inside you snapped, sending shockwaves through your body. It was an explosion, not just of pleasure, but of everything Ellie had tried to keep buried, every emotion you had stirred up in her. You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air, both from the intensity of your climax and the kiss that had stolen your breath away. Your damp foreheads pressed together, her eyes boring into yours, one of her hands trailing over your body, touching you with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, Ellie…” Your voice cracked and trembled, a raw, visceral expression of the overwhelming pleasure that had just consumed you.

“I love you.” Three words, so simple and yet so difficult to say out loud. Ellie hadn’t realized she’d let them slip out until your movements halted, a look of confusion veiling your face. 

The sound of heavy breathing—the aftereffects of your activity—filled the room. You were still trying to recover, your body still trembling with euphoria, and the words had become lost in the maelstrom of the intense orgasm. Ellie’s heart felt like a wild animal, a gazelle on the plains of the Serengeti, drumming relentlessly against her ribcage as she waited for your response, anxiously anticipating what you would say next, the tension in the air thick like the humidity in a dense rainforest.

“What?” You asked the question in a meek, quiet voice, your breathing harsh and labored. It was as if life had drained from your face, leaving only a shell of shock and disbelief behind. 

There was absolute silence in the air, everything frozen in that moment. Ellie couldn’t even hear her heartbeat; it felt like time had come to a standstill. Everything seemed to move either unbearably slowly or excruciatingly fast, leaving her overwhelmed and out of control.

“Uh… I—” Ellie’s words stumbled and stuck in her throat as she tried to repeat the three simple words again. She could feel a palpable shift in the air around you, a barrier going up between you despite your physical closeness. 

For a brief moment, vulnerability flickered across your face, your eyes bare and exposed to her gaze, as though you had let your guard down and allowed her to see through you. But the mask quickly returned, your features hardening once more. You slowly withdrew from her thigh, sitting beside her instead, exhaling deeply, a look of disbelief etched on your face. The cinnamon-haired girl watched as your lips parted and your eyelids fluttered shut, knowing that you were trying to make sense of her confession and formulate a response. She held her breath, hoping you would tell her that you felt the same, that you longed for a serious relationship and were ready to take that next step together. But the words that slipped out of your mouth were the opposite of what she was expecting, leaving her heart sinking in her chest.

“I can’t.” Your head shook slightly, a nonverbal “no” that sent a shiver down Ellie’s spine. Her heart plummeted, as though it had leaped off the edge of a towering cliff only to smash into a million pieces upon impact. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and the air was knocked from her lungs as the reality of your rejection sank in. 

“Can’t what?” Her voice sounded hoarse and strained as she somehow managed to speak, her forest-green eyes clouded with the beginnings of tears as she fixated on your bare back, watching with trepidation as you quickly and almost frantically dressed, one piece of clothing after another being pulled on.

Your body momentarily froze as you searched your mind for the right words, an explanation to fill the terrible silence. But you came up empty, your mind consumed by a rising panic, numbing your thoughts and leaving you speechless. You spoke in a cold, sharp voice, your back still turned towards her, “Do this.” The air between you was heavy with tension and despair, your emotional state written clearly on your face, even if she couldn't see it directly.

“Wha- I... but…” Ellie struggled to articulate her thoughts, her mind grappling with conflicting emotions and confusion. Each attempt to form a coherent question or sentence ended in a frustrating tangle of words. The powerful connection that had enveloped her just moments before had vanished, leaving her bewildered and lost in its absence. How was a shift like that possible? Did you not feel it too?

“I don’t understand,” Her voice quivered and cracked as she forced the words out, her body rigid and her muscles tense as she fought to keep the tears at bay. She knew she couldn’t show any vulnerability in front of you, couldn’t let you see how much this was hurting her. Maybe it was just fear getting in the way, maybe there was still a chance for her to sway your decision by talking it out, to make you change your mind. The freckled girl couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trapped in a surreal nightmare, as if none of this was real. She had just bared her soul to you, trusted you with her innermost thoughts and feelings—things she had never shared with anyone else—and now she was consumed by a sense of violation, as if she had exposed too much of herself and in doing so, made herself vulnerable and annoying. She felt disgusted with herself, like she had crossed a line and done something wrong, leaving an acrid taste in her mouth.

“It can’t work,” Your voice was calm, detached, and filled with distance. The redhead watched as you pulled on your shirt, your gaze fixed on the wall of her room, where wrinkled space posters hung. Your composure was icy and uncaring, as if you had been waiting impatiently for the right moment to destroy the fragile bubble of illusion she had constructed with your lies. 

Her eyes roamed your face, searching desperately for a trace of the affection she had felt before, but all she saw was an emotionless mask. Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of the abrupt shift in your demeanor. Every ounce of her being longed to reach out and pull you back, to force you to see what you were throwing away. But she was paralyzed, rooted in place by the weight of your words. She had bared her soul to you, and now she was left exposed, raw, and broken.

The silence in the room thickened, growing heavy and oppressive like a massive storm cloud preparing to let loose. It was a stifling stillness, pressing down on both of you, forcing the air from your lungs and leaving each breath shallow, each word unspoken, lost in the thick atmosphere. Ellie’s forest-green, glassy eyes flicked to you, a desperate pleading in her gaze, like a sailor stranded at sea hoping to spot a flicker of a distant lighthouse, a guide through the dark waters of her impeding breakdown. But your gaze remained distant, fixed on a horizon only you could see, your movements deliberate, devoid of the tenderness that once made her believe in the magic between you.

“…Why?” Her voice was delicate and fragile, barely audible above a whisper. It trembled like a leaf in the wind, “Why can’t it work? We’re so good together. I thought—”

“Oh, please.” The venom in your voice lashed out, sharp and biting, each word dripping with contempt. “Don’t act like you don’t know. This was never supposed to be anything serious. You should have known better.” The words left your lips with a hollow ring, the warmth that the auburnette once craved in your voice now frozen over, an icy detachment that chilled her to the bone.

Tears gathered and spilled over in her eyes, creating a blurry haze that distorted the world around her and your form. The room seemed to whirl before her as her heart crumbled under the burden of your apathy. She struggled to comprehend how you could be so careless. “But-” Her voice faltered, a delicate whisper that fractured under the pressure of the painful reality she found herself grappling with. You had ensnared her like a tarantula, trapping her in an intricate web of deceit and manipulation from which there seemed to be no escape.

You sighed, the sound heavy with impatience, rolling your eyes as if the sound of her heart breaking was nothing more than an inconvenience. “God, Ellie, do you really not get it? It was just sex. Fun while it lasted, but nothing more. I can’t believe you got so attached.” Your words were sharp like swords, each one slicing through the fragile, translucent dreams she had so painstakingly woven around you, leaving deep, bleeding gashes in the delicate fabric of her hopes and illusions. She had been so stupid. “Just a summer fling, an experiment,” You added casually, your tone flat and uncaring.

Ellie’s heart crumbled further, the sharp edges of your words cutting deeper than she ever thought possible. Each syllable felt like salt combined with the strongest alcohol ever on an open wound, the reality of your apathy sinking in. “You don’t mean that,” She pleaded with you, her words carrying the weight of desperate hope, as if grasping onto a rope that could keep her from drowning in the harsh reality. “We were so good together. I felt it. I know you did, too.”

Your lips curled into a sneer, a cruel twist that mocked her naivety. “You really are naive, aren’t you? There was never anything between us, Ellie. I was just bored, and you were convenient,” you scoffed, the derision in your voice felt like a kick in her stomach, the emotional pain becoming physical. “And easy, you were so easy… and so fucking gullible.” The smirk that followed was a bitter slash across her soul, a cruel reminder of how carelessly you had toyed with her emotions. Of how carelessly you had toyed with plenty of people before her. This was a mere game to you, and you couldn’t give two fucks of all the broken pieces you always left behind. 

How could someone so incredibly beautiful and captivating exude such emptiness within? 

Salty tears streamed down her freckled cheeks, her chest tightening with a tumultuous mix of heartbreak and disbelief. The weight of your betrayal felt like a ton of bricks, crushing the hope she had clung to so desperately. You had never been any different from what the others claimed. “But I love you,” she repeated, her voice cracking under the strain of her agony. “Does that mean anything to you?”

You laughed, a sound lacking any warmth or joy, more like the cold echo of a cavernous emptiness inside you. “Honestly? No, it doesn’t. Did you think this was going to turn into some grand romance? Come on, grow up.” It shocked the auburnette how you could effortlessly shift from being warm and kind to completely cold and unsympathetic. It was like watching you switch personalities as easily as changing costumes in a theater, all to your convenience. Adapting and shapeshifting to your liking. “Love doesn’t exist. It’s just a fairytale for people who can’t handle reality.”

Ellie shook her head as if trying to shake off the unfiltered reality you were laying before her, throwing at her in such a callous manner that it left her breathless. Tears cascaded down like a relentless downpour, drenching the delicate, freckled canvas of her flushed cheeks. She held on desperately to the fading remnants of what she believed to be true, “I—I thought we had something real,” She was barely whispering, her voice fragile and on the verge of completely breaking down. Her bottom lip quivered, and that pouty expression on her face tugged at your heartstrings, making it hard to go through with this. But you knew it was something you had to do. It was necessary.

“You thought wrong,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, as if casting aside a trivial matter. “And if you had any sense, you’d have figured that out by now. Get real. I never promised you anything beyond what we had.”

Ellie stood up, her legs trembling as she tried to steady herself against the emotional hurricane tearing through her. “I trusted you. I opened up to you. And now you’re just discarding me like I’m nothing?”

You nonchalantly lifted your shoulders in a dismissive gesture, causing her stomach to clench as if the bond you once shared was now as inconsequential as a discarded piece of trash carried away by the wind. “I didn’t ask you to fall for me.”

She stared at you, her eyes desperately searching yours for any trace of the person she thought she had come to understand, but you weren’t there. “I thought you were different.”

“Well, I’m not. I never claimed to be something I’m not.” Your heartrending words landed the critical strike, causing her to lock away her pain deep within. It festered there, leaving behind deep, ugly scars. She wondered if she would ever be able to heal from the emotional wounds you inflicted. Not even when she broke up with her ex-girlfriend, Cat, did she feel this way. 

“You know what?” Ellie’s voice quivered with raw emotion, yet remained steadfast and resolute. The ache in her heart was gradually being consumed by a smoldering, intense anger, “You’re right. I should have seen this coming. But don’t you dare pretend like you didn’t play a part in this. You let me believe something that wasn’t real.” Her voice quivered with emotion, the barely contained anger struggling to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to engulf her beautiful moss-colored eyes once more. “You said you needed time, that eventually, you’d feel ready to…” She halted mid-sentence, realization sinking in. The promises she had once clung to, the words you had whispered in sweet moments of closeness and intimacy, all of it was nothing but a frail illusion you had woven around her to shield her from the bitter and ugly truth. You had never been genuine, always sidestepping, always evading her attempts at sincere connection.

“I never said that,” you stated in a chilly, detached manner, completely lacking any trace of the warmth typically associated with the girl she was infatuated with. It seemed absurd to her. After all, it was still you, but you were revealing your true self. This was the same true self that everyone had cautioned her about, the central figure in all the rumors she had heard. They weren’t falsehoods. They were all painfully real. It was a shame that she was only realizing this now, after falling for your ass.

“Don’t you dare pull that shit on me,” The auburnette growled, her finger pointed at you in an accusatory manner, and she struggled to mask the hurt that was tearing her apart piece by piece.

You averted your gaze, unwilling to meet her eyes any longer; you knew that her words held the truth. You had led her on, selfishly used her to fulfill your own needs and desires, without a care in the world for the trauma and pain you’d leave in her. But deep down, beneath the cold facade you maintained, you couldn’t deny that this moment was tearing you apart as well. Even though you tried to fool yourself, to convince yourself that you didn’t care about her at all, you knew in your heart that it was a lie. You couldn’t ignore the sharp pang of guilt and regret that tugged at your chest like a persistent child pleading for attention. Your heart clamored for acknowledgment, drowning out the rational thoughts, urging you to stay and face the situation rather than retreat like a coward. It swore that things would be different this time, that she could be trusted. But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

“Whatever. I’m done here.” You walked to the door, pausing for a fleeting moment. Turning back to her, your eyes seemed empty. Your voice sounded almost mechanical, having become accustomed to this repetitive cycle, trapped in an endless loop. You found someone new, they became attached, and just as you started to feel something, you would withdraw. “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. We’re done here.”

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as your words sank in. The tears the auburnette had been holding back spilled over, but she forced herself to stand tall, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep herself composed. “Trust me, I won’t. I don’t ever want to see you again,” she promised, trying to sound firm and unaffected, but both of you knew it was far from the truth. She longed to run after you, to plead for you to stay, to not leave her, but she refused to give you the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable and in desperate need of you. You had already seen enough of her; she had already made herself look like a fool yet that didn’t stop you from stomping on her fragile heart.

“Good.”

And with that, you were gone, leaving behind only the ghost of what could have been, and the shattered pieces of her heart, leaving her alone with the echo of her own heartbreak. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound reverberating through the silence.

Ellie collapsed onto the bed, clutching a fluffy pillow to her chest, tears cascading down her face. The room seemed to chill, the absence of your presence amplifying the feeling of loneliness. She buried her face in the softness of the pillow, her tears leaving damp patches on the fabric. It was as if a part of her had been forcibly wrenched away, leaving a raw, throbbing emptiness that felt impossible to soothe. She clutched at her chest, the emotional anguish translating into a physical ache. Breathing became a struggle as her chest tightened, making it hard to draw in a full breath.

Hours passed in a haze of anguish and despair, her tears eventually tapering off, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted. She lay there, fixating on the stars plastered on her ceiling. The weight of your absence felt like the entire solar system had collapsed upon her, crushing her under the immensity of her grief and sorrow. She was pinned down, each star on her ceiling twinkling mercilessly, mocking her pain with their cheap radiant light.

She reached for her phone, her fingers quivering with a mixture of longing and pain as she typed out a message she knew she could never send: “I miss you already.”

Each keystroke felt like a betrayal of her own heart, an act of masochism as the words coalesced on the screen. The message lingered on the screen, an undelivered declaration of heartbreak, a painful confession trapped within the confines of a glowing screen.

She loathed herself for her own weakness, her own vulnerability towards you. She desperately craved a person who didn’t have the slightest care in the world for her, someone who could so easily discard her without a second thought. She could almost hear Dina’s voice in her head, scolding her for being so fucking stupid and naive, telling her to get her shit together and forget about you altogether—maybe after suggesting to burn your whole house down. But her heart ached with a yearning that couldn’t be so easily dismissed, leaving her feeling lost, pathetic, and wholly powerless. She knew deep down that if you came back she’d be welcoming you with open arms, like none of this had happened.

The words etched on the screen seemed to sneer at her, a cruel reminder of her impotence. She couldn’t change your mind and most importantly… she couldn’t change you. 

With a trembling hand, she erased the message, then tossed the phone aside, curling up into a tight ball on the bed. Exhaustion eventually took over, pulling her into a restless sleep. But even in her dreams, she was haunted by you, a phantom pain that followed her even in the realm of sleep, leaving her tormented and unable to truly escape reality.

The next morning, the sun beamed through the blinds, slicing through the room like a laser, bright and unforgiving. Ellie dragged herself upright in bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her like a heavy blanket. Every part of her felt burdened, as if the weariness had seeped into her bones, settling there as a constant reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in her heart. You had completely destroyed her and she wished she could bring herself to hate you for it, but she couldn’t; no matter how hard she tried.

She moved slowly, each action a deliberate fight against the numbness that threatened to overtake her. Getting dressed felt like going through the motions of a life she no longer recognized. The world outside her window seemed darker, as if the sun itself had dimmed in response to her loss. She knew she had to keep going, force herself to take one step, then another, even though every movement felt like trudging through thick, unforgiving mud.

She knew she had to erase you from her mind, from every little corner where you had once lived. The freckled girl stopped showing up to work, leaving Dina to be the one to tell you she was quitting. It was childish, she knew that, but the idea of facing you, of seeing you, was too much to bear. She knew that if she saw you, she would crumble, her resolve breaking as she begged you to come back, to love her back the way she had believed you once did. Beg you to let her hold you, in her arms, where you belonged. But you didn’t belong to her—if you had, you wouldn’t have left.

Each day that passed by, the redhead was left alone to wrestle with her heartache, a silent and insidious companion that had latched onto her like a parasite, feasting on the very essence of her being. It gnawed at her soul, leeching away her energy and joy, wrapping its cold, inky tendrils around her heart, holding her in an unbreakable ever present embrace of sorrow and despair. 

Her friends noticed the shift in her, the way her laughter had disappeared, replaced by a hollow silence. She seemed distant, as if she was there in body but absent in spirit, a ghost of the girl she used to be. 

No one knew what was going on inside her mind, no one except Jesse. He had seen the signs, had heard the unspoken words in her silence, but he kept it to himself, pretending not to know what had caused the light in her eyes to fade. Even when Dina couldn’t stop worrying about Ellie, but Jesse held his tongue, protecting the secret of her heartbreak. It was up to Ellie to talk about it to her friends—if she ever wanted to; he was certain that she eventually would, she just needed time.

Even Joel noticed the change in his daughter, the way she no longer found joy in the little things that used to make her smile. The eggs and bacon he made her in the mornings went untouched, her chair at the table often empty. She no longer filled the house with her endless chatter, no longer picked on him for his dad jokes. Instead, she withdrew into herself, isolating in her room or disappearing for hours at a time, leaving him to wonder where she was, who she was with. He had tried to find out, but all his searching had led to dead ends. His sweet girl had become a stranger, slipping away from him, slowly.

Summer, once Ellie’s favorite season, had become a cruel reminder of what she had lost. The warm breeze that used to fill her with a sense of freedom now felt like a mockery, a reminder of the momentary happiness that had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to love summer again, not when it was tainted with memories of you. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get over what happened, the way you had reduced her to nothing while your life carried on, untouched by what you left behind.

She didn’t dare message you. She wasn’t that stupid. Pride held her back, even though the urge to reach out burned like an ember inside her, refusing to die out. You had told her not to, and she had promised she wouldn’t. And so, she kept her distance, even though a part of her hoped you would break the silence. But you never did, and neither did she.

Instead, Ellie focused on erasing every trace of you from her life. She gathered everything that reminded her of you, every small item that held a piece of your memory, and stuffed them into a box. She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, but she needed them out of sight, out of reach. They were relics of a past she needed to forget.

The auburnette collapsed onto her bed, pulling her sketchbook into her lap. The pages felt heavy in her hands, filled with drawings that now only brought her pain. With a deep breath, she began tearing them out, each rip a cathartic release of the anger that had been building up like a lego tower right beneath her apathetic surface. Sketches of you, peaceful in sleep, your face lit with a smile or lost in thought, fell around her like leaves in autumn, each one a reminder of how deeply she had loved you. How deeply she had fooled herself.

Ellie’s hands paused as she reached the last page. There, among the sketches of you, was a drawing she hadn’t made. It was of her asleep, her features soft and unguarded. She recognized your handwriting at the bottom of the page, the words you had scrawled there while she was sleeping in her bed, unaware of your restless state that night.

“You’re such a creep. But a cute one. :P P.S. your snoring sounds like a horde of angry, sleep-deprived dinos.”

The storm of anger that had driven her to tear apart her sketchbook faded, replaced by a wave of sadness so intense it took her breath away. Her fingers traced the lines of the drawing, the tenderness in each stroke, the way you had captured her as you saw her, not as she saw herself. You have made her beautiful. You had seen something in her that she had never seen in herself. Her vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling onto the page, dampening the paper. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until a sob broke free, wracking her body with the force of her grief.

She slammed the sketchbook shut, tossing it aside as if it could rid her of the memories that clung to her like thorns. Her hands flew to her face, muffling the cries that echoed in her chest, the screams she was too broken to release. She buried her face in her palms, her body shaking with the effort of holding herself together, even as everything inside her was falling apart.

Ellie wished she would never cross paths with you again, the one who had so cruelly ripped her heart apart with the precision of a surgeon and the callousness of a butcher. You had done it without hesitation, without a second thought, leaving her to pick up the jagged pieces of what was once whole. She had begged and prayed, whispered desperate pleas to every deity that would listen, hoping beyond hope that the universe would grant her one mercy: that she would never have to see you again.

But Cupid, in all his twisted irony, had other plans.

To be continued…

[gh0stsp1d3r]

second chance ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

warnings: r is a mutant w/ blood manipulation powers :3, death is mentioned, grief, angsty and fluffy

a/n: I wanted to make the readers power dark but her personality the complete opposite. I like dark and brooding characters w/ sweethearts LMFAOO it’s my favorite trope atp

MASTERLIST

Being sent to the void and being trapped in there was not how this was supposed to go at all. You stood up, confused as to where you were. You looked wildly around the deserted world, finding no one around you.

Sometimes you wonder how exactly it is that you got into this shit. After your boyfriend died saving the world, you let yourself go, not the happy go lucky person you usually were. Your friends noticed, you sulking around during missions, usually not saying a word to any of them.

Why’d he always have to be the damn hero?

And now you missed them, it was too quiet here for your liking. Your gaze landed on a patch of trees, seeming like the only form of life there. With a huff, you picked yourself up and walked towards the forage, walking around for a while until you came across something rather odd in this place.

A car? Here? It was random. What made you even more confused was the blood splatters all over it, the windows cracked. It was fresh blood, not dried yet, you could tell that much.

Slowly and curiously,you walked towards the car, peering inside quietly the two of them, Wade wrapped up in the seatbelts. Then your eyes were stuck on logan, heart stuttering and breath stopping at the sight of his bloodied body.

His eyes snapped open, eyebrows furrowing and forehead creased, he was going to attack you, barreling out of the car and standing in front of you before you jumped back and his movements paused.

You had already created a shield of their blood from the car, holding your hands out in front of you. You stared back at Logan, examining you as if it was as if he was wondering the same thing you were.

Is that you?

You put your hands down, blood falling back into the soil, both of you left staring at each other in silence.

It went on like that until Wade left out a cough, gasping and sitting up, struggling against the seatbelts.

“Motherfuck-“ he murmured out, both of you turning your heads to watch the man get out of his restraints.

He hopped out of the car, turning to the both of you staring back at him now. “You know what, I forgive you for that back there.” He told Logan.

“Gonna introduce me to your friend?” You asked with a small smile, both of them turning to look at you.

It was the first words Logan had heard you speak in a while, and Jesus, you even had the same smile.

“Pool. Dead.” He held his hand out, which looked broken. “Or Wade. You can just call me Wade.”

“Your um…” you cleared your throat, motioning to his floppy hand, that he quickly fixed back in place.

You shook his hand. “Y/n.” You mumbled.

“Where have I heard that name before…?” He asked, mostly to himself.

“I’m part of the x-men.” You told him. He snapped his fingers, remembering you suddenly.

“Oh, yeah! You’re dead in my universe.” He said the last part flatly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Didn’t go so well for you. You have like… the blood bending powers, right?”

You snickered at his choice of words. “Blood bending is from avatar. Blood manipulation.” You corrected, but nodded anyways.

“So you’re like… Marie Moreau from gen v?”

You didn’t understand his reference.

“Are you two done?” Logan asked, his arms crossed against his chest.

“Cool your jets, wolvie.”

You had to suppress a smile at his choice of words, wolvie. You used to tease him with that nickname all the time. He glanced at you, before fixing his gaze back on Wade.

“What are you guys doing here anyways?” You asked them.

“Long story.” Logan spoke, still avoiding your gaze, his mind suddenly being flooded with the worst memories he has.

“Okay, then what are you guys planning to do? Except for stabbing each other.”

“We’ll catch you up, Katara.” Wade spoke, all of you piling back into the car, you staring out the window as Wade explained everything.

“Wait, let me get this straight, so she was your girlfriend but then she died, in your universe?” Wade whispered to Logan, who just grimaced and nodded, downing the rest of the alcohol in this place.

“I find it kinda hard to believe that you, the epitome of I have a grey cloud over my head at all times, and her, the living embodiment of fucking sunshine. She’s like fucking.. princess peach. You’re like bowser.”

Logan scoffed, glancing back at you for a moment. He was right. Despite him not getting the references, he knew what he was trying to say.

He ruined everything he touched, everything he went near. It was better to stay away from you, even if you are from another universe.

They didn’t get the chance to talk about it, because the others began walking in, Logan and wade taking one last glance at you before you all turned to them.

“You know, princess, you should talk to him.” Wade spoke suddenly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, an innocent gesture.

You furrowed your eyebrows at Wade. “Princess?”

Somehow, in the few hours you knew wade, he was pretty nice, and you two quickly became friends.

“You remind me of like princess peach or something.”

Your eyebrows remained furrowed, face full of confusion.

“Oh my god, you guys don’t have Mario in your universe?”

You shook your head. “No clue what you’re talking about right now.”

“That’s.. tragic…”

“Anyways, what were you saying? Who should I talk to?”

“Mr dark and brooding outside.”

“Logan?”

“You know I’m talking about logan.”

You sighed, shutting your eyes for a moment and nodding, leaning your head back against the couch you sat on, recalling everything about the man.

“I was his friend for years. We met… through the X-men shit or whatever.” You waved it off. “I was… in love with him. I still am. We… eventually started dating, and we both were probably the happiest we could be. Then he had to go be the fuckin’ hero.” You said with a bittersweet laugh, Wade listening intently.

“It’s been 1 year, 3 months, and 11 days.”

“Wow… that is… bringing a tear to my eye.” He flicked the stray tear off his face, shaking his head to himself.

“Well, to me it looks like him and mini him are done talking,” he gently shoved your shoulder with his arm, motioning for you to go outside.

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” You murmured when he kept shoving you to the edge, small smile still on your face.

You shoved your hands into your pockets as you left, he glanced back, ready to tell whoever was coming up to go away, his words getting caught in his throat when he saw you. He turned back around, swallowing down the alcohol in seconds.

You sat next to him, both of you silent until you spoke up.

“Am I dead in your universe?” You asked him, voice almost a whisper.

He nodded, still not turning to look at you.

“Oh. You’re dead in mines.” You said, also turning to look ahead.

“How’d that happen?” He asked you, you were shocked that he was engaging in any conversation. You answered quickly.

“He was ripped in half.” You swallowed, remembering the scream you had let out, the cries you choked out on that day. “Right in front of me. Y-He told me…” you hesitated, turning to him, reaching for the bottle in his hands. He gave it to you, you taking a swig, the alcohol burning down your throat.

“He told me that he loved me, and that we needed to leave. I regret leaving. I regret it all.” You told him quietly, he stared at you now, and you stared at him back, passing him the bottle again.

“She was… stabbed, in the heart.” He told you, voice wavering for a moment. “I was so pissed off,” he chuckled for a moment. “I couldn’t kill them.”

You listened intently to the man.

“I never thought I would see…you again.”

“I know. It’s odd.” You said with a quiet laugh, both of you staring at each other for a moment, just sitting in silence, a collective understanding that maybe, just maybe, you were put in the void by fate.

A second chance. That’s what it was for you both.

[originalartblog]

[Storm Bringer]

“In fact, I was against using Adam for such a frivolous investigation from the very start,” Dr. Wollstonecraft began in a huff as she crossed her arms again. “The government is always like this. They send a mechanical detective, then blow him up once they’re done to keep any secret information from getting out. [..] I suppose this is the government’s way of saying we ought to neglect science in favor of human life!”

Dr. Wollstonecraft, ma'am, I think your ethically-dubious opinions on science are better saved for other audiences.

Dr. Wollstonecraft (aka Mary Shelley) based on @videogamelover99's design!