#word search wednesday

[stereopticons]

no longer wednesday wip word search

@ramonaflow and @tyfinn tagged me in word search wednesday but I was occupied with life things BUT this week's word was mirror and I happen to particularly like this instance of mirror in indie band patrick because I was having fun making up some queer mixed media art.

There’s a collage over top of the mirror, images—two men entwined on a bed, a trans woman doing her makeup, and a woman tenderly brushing her partner’s hair behind her ear—are overlaid on the glass, but their faces are still visible.

It's not Wednesday anywhere in the world anymore, so I'm not tagging anyone but if you want to play, you should consider this your tag.

[laurelsofhighever]

WSW: delicate?

Yes, we have delicate! I seem to be quite fond of the word, actually.

From two different chapters of As The World Falls Down:

The ruins of the Warden tower could be seen over the lip of the hollow. They had to cross a stream and mount a hill, following deer tracks past the charred remains of some ritual circle scattered with ash, but when they reached the circle of crumbling walls, Rosslyn doubted anything so delicate as parchment could have survived the weathering of what must surely have been ages. Bushes grew up between the old tiles and cracks in the wall, creepers strangled window frames whose glass had long since crumbled into sand, and a deep scent of green rot hung in the frigid air, trailing exposed skin like fingers. While Rosslyn and Daveth kept watch, the others forced their way into the tower itself, through a door that fell to rusty, mouldering pieces under the blows of axe and shield.

--

The village was not what they saw first. Instead, beyond the tangle of bare winter branches a column of white smoke poured into the sky, thick and greasy in the dull light, and even at a distance the stench of it gagged in the lungs. In the woods around them, the birds had fallen silent. “It smells like a pyre,” Leliana said, with a delicate wrinkle of her nose. For a moment, Rosslyn watched it billow. “Weapons loose.”

Thank you for playing!

--

Give me a word and I'll hunt for it in my WIP!

[lykegenia]

word search Wednesday: answer, question, emphasis?

This is a good collection of words!

Answer, from As The World Falls Down:

Unbothered by such an answer, the sister led them on towards the farthest of the buildings, a squat, broad structure with a worn inscription above the door that proclaimed the year it had been consecrated. Inside, the scent of bitter herbs and liniment hung heavy in the air, sweetened with incense and even a faint burnt-sugar taste on the back of the tongue that Rosslyn recognised from Flemeth’s ministrations. An elderly woman with coils of wiry grey hair piled upon her head looked up as their shadows fell across the ledger she was copying.

Question, from Like Glitter And Gold:

“We’ll be questioning him at the Agency, not the station,” Adam announces as the sat nav tells them to take the final turn along the boatyard track. His knuckles are white enough on the steering wheel to suggest he’s expecting a fight, and there’s a flicker of a glance sideways to gauge Leah’s expression. “Regardless of whether Seakirk was killed because he was a selkie, the killer saw him without his veil. We need to see how much he knows.”

Nothing for Emphasis, I'm afraid.

Thanks for playing!

[ellenembee]

word search Wednesday: cream, gleam, stream?

Ohhh! Fun!!!! I have all of these in my original fantasty novel WIP, and one in my original sci-fi novel WIP.

For the Fantasy novel (working title: The Chosen)

Gleam and stream appear multiple times, so I just chose my favorite of all the appearances. Also, do I get a bonus for two words in one sentence??

Nel’s breath caught as she recognized broad shoulders filling out the cream and bronze of a Prime uniform.

A gleam from the wall caught her eye, and she reached out to touch a thin stream of water sluicing down the rock face until the curve became too great and it dripped into darkness.

And the sci-fi novel (working title: Galaxy Games)

I added a bit of context with this one because I do what I want.

Tears streamed down his face. He was sure the cameras were catching them in three-dimensional glory. Hate seethed under his skin, writhing like the fibers that had burned him or the rope now mangled by the jaws of the reiwex.

Thanks so much for the ask! Does this mean I get to turn around and send you some words, too?

[ficwip]

This week’s word is…

✨ QUESTION ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[littlemisskittentoes]

WIP word search!

RULES: use this generator to generate three random words (or however many you’d like to do!) and share the lines where they show up in your wips!

all my thanks to the darling @songliili @leojfitz @rockyroadkylers @gayrootvegetable @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @firenati0n @leaves-of-laurelin @kiwiana-writes

AHHH so many of you! thank you so, so much! alright, let's go chickie wings.

My words: current, leave, pray

current- kensington divergence au

When he presses his shaking fingers against his cheeks to chase away the lingering treks of tears, he scrubs harder than he means to. But, the bite of the abrasion against the panes of his face help bring him back to himself, an anchor through the riptide currents lapping at his feet.

leave- kensington divergence au

He clears the room in long, calculated strides. He even has a broad hand wrapped around the doorknob. But, as loudly as he tells himself to twist it, to move, to leave, Alex has never had much success in pulling his body out of Henry’s orbit.

pray- assassination attempt au

For long moments, Henry kneels. He keeps his hands folded together and his head bowed against the wooden pew. His senses latch onto the smell of incense and aged parchment. Slowly, he closes his eyes and he tries to pray to a god he’s not sure he believes in. And all at once, Henry understands— this is what they mean when they speak of desperation.

tag, you're it!! @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @inexplicablymine @affectionatelyrs @msmarvelouswinchester @absoluteaudacitywrites @user-anakin @raysletters @dot524 @daisymae-12

[autisticlancemcclain]

hello my loves 😎 tomorrow is wednesday, so now yall get to vote on which work in progress i will be updating! choose from ten, and if there’s one that’s not there that you want to see updated, lmk in the comments!!

links for ur convenience:

lost at sea au 1

childhood friends au 1 2 3

keeping up with the coalition episode 1

space whale au 1

beauty and the beast au 1

cafe au 1

MIA lance au 1

orphan au ao3

black paladin KINDA au 1 2

omega shield aftermath 1 2

[ssmtskw]

WIP Wednesday Word Search!

Thanks for the tag in this one, babies. @read-and-write- @firenati0n @songliili @kiwiana-writes @rockyroadkylers @gayrootvegetable and @hgejfmw-hgejhsf! 💗 Also: appreciation post for my friends who endlessly tag me in these games/challenges even though I'm not the most active and consistent person on this platform. I love you all.

RULES: use this generator to generate three random words (or however many you'd like to do!) and share the lines where they show up in your WIPs!

The words I got were acquaintance, monk, and challenge.

acquaintance - Exes to What? AU

There’s a bunch of classmates, celebrities, Nora posting a photo dump about their weekly Austen-binge with June popping in every so often in the slides. Pez in another outfit that never fails to fill Alex with awe; they’re the most stylish person he probably knows, and that’s saying something with his revolving door of acquaintances and friends. Ellen with her recent campaign publicity pictures. His dad doesn’t have instagram, but every now and then Oscar’s face shows up on news outlets as the current-seating senator of California. And then, unmistakably enough to Alex’s eyes, there’s also Henry.

monk - ATLA AU

Alex was already in the Avatar State, and finally looking around the room — littered with Fire Nation army uniforms and the remains of a monk who clearly meant something to Alex and June — it's not hard to understand why.

challenge - fake fratboy!Alex who's actually just an animal shelter volunteer AU

So Henry doesn't ask Alex where he goes or why he has new cuts on his hands or what he gets up to whenever he's not in school — only looks at him as if all the burning questions he wants to send Alex's way was his newfound telepathic skill. Does so in the next few days because he can't just let go of things like that, and ultimately only stops when Alex finally shoots back a quizzical look at him. He doesn't look angry, per se, but the littlest hint of a challenge does start resting on his eyebrows whenever he spares Henry a glance.

I combined both games so I'm not sure who to tag that hasn't done it yet but if you already did, take this as a round two I guess the word search is FUN. @blairwaldcrf @later-2-dae @dragonflylady77 @leojfitz @14carrotghoul @matherines @44whispers @movetoheavens @mudbloodpotter05 @happiness-of-the-pursuit @inexplicablymine @user-anakin @littlemisskittentoes

[westiec]

WIP Word Search

In other WIP Wednesday games, @theleakypen tagged me with the following words:

sleep | sky | press | breath | bud

Dear Charming Future Boyfriend,

Were you able to sleep, or did you think of my hands? Did you imagine me gripping your sexy thighs and feeling the give of hard muscles as I set them to quivering? The question of what you’re wearing is an academic one—I do my best work on bare skin.

— from the Zhancheng Magic Boyfriend Journal AU I'm writing with @bideroo

Nie Huaisang wrinkles his nose, rather ruining his image of refinement. "Nie er gongzi would invite his fellow scholar to be less formal, and begs their forgiveness for not remembering their name."

"Li Shuitian," Jiang Yanli says.

"As in—" Nie Huaisang gives a pointed look to the stream full of splashing disciples and then the blue sky overhead, and chuckles when Jiang Yanli nods. "Well then, Li-xiong, from one sneak to another, I'm glad you're here this summer."

— from yet another accidental threadfic, this one where novel!JYL goes to the Cloud Recesses lectures by pretending to be a boy

Song Lan sighed, and resumed stroking over the hard, fluttering whatever-they-were that made Xiao Xingchen keen in three different pitches and the smell of the air before lightning. "I just wish I could see what I do to you. For all the tentacles, it seems my eyes are still too human."

The rhythmic motion in his dantians stopped as Xiao Xingchen froze.

Song Lan frowned. "Xingchen? Did I do something wrong? I don't mean to press."

"No, no, of course not," Xiao Xingchen said. "It's just — I have such an awful lot of eyes..."

— from glorious and strange, the hypothetical eldritch songxiao sequel to Puck's Taste You In My Core

"Hanguang-jun!" shouted the Wen captain, "and the Demon of Yiling himself. Surrender! We have you far outnumbered, and I can see you are missing your weapons."

Wei Wuxian drew breath against the complaints of his ribs, ready to call up any resentful spirit in earshot and show this Wen dog how dangerous he was, even unarmed, but Lan Wangji was faster. Across the courtyard before Wei Wuxian could even blink, Lan Wangji seized the captain around the throat and tossed him into the line of men behind him. Wei Wuxian had fought beside Lan Wangji for months now, seen his fatal grace in action more times than he could count, but the way he moved now held a power and a ferocity he had never seen. Lan Wangji ripped through the rows of Wen soldiers like they were nothing more than an army of papermen, spinning and striking with dizzying speed and overwhelming force.

— from the Lanpires AU with @bladedweaponsandswishycoats

I didn't have "bud" so have a "buddy":

“I have already offered to replace your cake,” the man says… irritably? Probably irritably. His words are short and clipped, and his expression is utterly flat. It’s honestly impressive, in a scary sort of way. Not the kind of guy Wei Wuxian would want to piss off. Still, he could try to act a little more apologetic. “Either allow me to do so, or let me be on my way.” Sheesh.

Wei Wuxian braces for the fireworks, but Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Wei Wuxian can practically see him discarding another round of invective, which hey, good job, buddy! “It was a custom order,” Jiang Cheng grits out. “They won’t have time to just remake it.”

Unbothered Dude’s face does something that might, generously, be called a frown.

— also from Zhancheng Magic Boyfriend Journal :D

This is a fun way to do this! I'll tag @bladedweaponsandswishycoats @bideroo @therealfailwhale @dragongirlg-fics and anyone else who wants to play with the words:

shake | wonder | four | over | beat

[laurelsofhighever]

For the word search: hands!

We have lots of hands! Here are a couple from As The World Falls Down, my Prince Alistair AU:

“Look at it this way,” he tried, throwing his hands up, “those maps can’t be high on your priority list next to all the ancient lore I’m sure you have lying around, and they’re not going to do any good lying around here waiting for the darkspawn to use them for kindling, right? If we can use them, maybe it’ll help us stop the Blight sooner, and then you can come back and rescue everything else.”

In terms of cold practicality, the point was well barbed; it fired clean and struck true, even if the silver for the boy’s meal had come from an already-stolen purse. Rosslyn’s hands curled into fists nonetheless, the image before her eyes smeared not with mud from the gutter, but with blood.

Thank you for playing!

[lykegenia]

touch and shadow for the word search?

We have a hit for both from Like Glitter And Gold!

His jaw clenches. “I should be over there.” “No.” She touches his arm again, more gently this time, and turns his face towards her with the other hand. “Adding another person now won’t help.” “But I –” “It’s not your fault,” she interrupts, firm. “Let the others handle it.”

--

The smile falls, and with it, all colour drains from Samantha’s face. Beneath a careful mask of concealer and blush, the shadows of her eyes offer a stark contrast to the vibrant, artificial shade of her hair, and only serve to underline the delicate red threading of eyes that have gone too long without sleep. Her lip trembles as she tries to rally.

Thank you for playing!

[thedastrash]

FIC WORD SEARCH

Thank you @morganlefaye79 who tagged me for the words “cake, occupied, outside, staring, heart”

Cake: had to come from the birthday fic I wrote! Of Anyone I Ever Knew, I've Gotten Close To You (I was spoiled for choice of excerpt, there’s a lot of cake in it lol):

"Well, did ye win or just make a mess?" Sebastian asks, wiping some frosting off her cheek and grimacing at the cake smearing from her hair onto his expensive trousers.

Occupied: The closest I came was “preoccupied” from my upcoming Anders Summerbang piece:

“Yes, it seemed you were preoccupied with something… shall I continue my confession?” Anders asks with a tone of mock innocence which sets Sebastian’s jaw on edge.

Outside: from a short WIP for Alistair/Velaneth Surana:

After a long span of silence Alistair turns his head to her. “Is that… are your teeth chattering?” This coming from the man laying with a whole leg outside his blanket and radiating warmth.

Staring: Carver/Merrill from Fire in the Darkness, Sapphire in the Air for the Arlathan Exchange:

Merrill peeked down at his face again and saw him staring fixedly at her chest with his lips parted as his fingers kneaded and brushed, feeling the slight heft of her breasts in his palms.

Heart: from my mysterious upcoming Anders Summerbang WIP piece:

In the pounding of my heart… I hear the glory of creation. His heart hammers its way down from his throat as he leans from the spray to listen closer. All his muscles are tense in a way that the heat of the water can’t touch, tight as a bow string. Just a little longer and he could finish.

And thank you to @fereldan-kestrel who also tagged me for the words “note, guide, learning, trap, legs”

Note: from my Cullen/Cassandra fake dating fic, Too Eligible

Cullen sets out flowers and two goblets. “Would you care for wine? It’s a honey wine from Redcliffe. Notes of clover and bluebells so I’m told.”

Guide & Learning: Bethany/Alistair from Dinner and a Show

She never got very good at potions, as evidenced by Alistair’s wince when he drank, so she compensated with magic, focusing on the details of anatomy and learning how to guide her spells precisely.

Trap: I gotta write more traps lol! I cheated because trap came up nowhere and used “straps” from my WIP Cassandra/Inquisitor Merrill piece:

“Yes.” Cassandra went through the motions by rote memory, tightening the straps on her saddle, cinching the bags, tucking her necessities where they belonged.

Legs: from the long WIP I’m working on for Alistair/Vela Surana

“You are an angel,” Vela says emphatically, flopping onto the ground next to the fire. She spreads her legs out and flings her arms wide. “Wake me up when it’s ready. Or bury me. Whichever comes first.”

Feel free to ask me about any of these in an ask <3 I will tag: @dismalzelenka, @sulky-valkyrie, @highwayphantoms, @barbex, @kittynomsdeplume, @dalish-rogue, & anyone who wants to!

[vanillahigh00]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @hippolotamus! 💙

A rework from Sunday's seven sentences and a bit more.

She should’ve been back by now. It had been a few hours since Rachel darted out the door like clockwork after another fight. He knew that dance, swaying to and fro many times over the last decade plus. Patrick would give her space and within days, she’d be back in his arms like their squabble never happened, pledging to start fresh. Except tonight was different. They didn’t live apart. Patrick’s apartment was hers and she wasn’t here. It wasn’t the first night they had spent apart since Patrick moved to Schitt’s Creek, but the first night either of them intentionally slept somewhere else. 

Patrick stared at the door, willing it to open, his stomach tightening, hating himself a bit more with each passing minute. He should’ve felt relieved that Rachel was ending this. Excited at the prospect of seeing if there was still anything between him and David, but he didn’t. Not like this. Not while she was out there not answering his texts. Not when Patrick couldn’t make her understand the real reason they couldn't elope. At the heart of all this, he still loved her. He just wasn’t in love with her. She was still and will always be one of Patrick’s favorite people. Every muscle tightened in his toned body as he envisioned Rachel out somewhere, crying. He needed to find her. They needed to talk this out. More importantly, he needed to know she was okay. 

He picked up his phone, hoping he missed a text response, but Rachel hadn’t even read his messages unless she turned off read receipts. Patrick focused on his words, hoping his message and concern would telepathically reach Rachel.

9:30 pm Patrick: Rach, where did you go?

9:45 pm Patrick: Can we talk?

10:00 pm Patrick: Are you okay?

Sleep evaded him as he laid in bed watching a classic Stanley Cup game. He didn’t know which teams were playing or what year this game took place. It was background noise, maybe something to take the edge off the failure sweating off his body. He failed Rachel, not only as a boyfriend, but as her best friend. A friend should’ve known she needed more and time after time he thought he could give that to her, but she kept coming back. Every doubt filling his mind vanished every time she ran into his arms. 

He did love her. His blood boiled when he imagined another man touching her, and many men tried over the years, some succeeding because Patrick couldn’t get his head out of his ass quick enough to reclaim her. Why wouldn’t other men want her? Who could turn down a beautiful redhead with freckles dusting the gentle skin between her nose and where her eyes met her high cheekbones? 

He missed her when they weren’t together, but he didn’t mope around his apartment like a lost puppy, unlike his father had when his mother traveled for work. That was love. One of many red flags that should’ve given Patrick pause, but he ignored all the warning signs on so many levels because his parents had what he always wanted, and it seemed impossible that it wouldn’t be with Rachel.

Until David. 

It's late and leaving an open tag for anyone who wants to share what they're working on!

[theleakypen]

For the WIP word search game - hope, rest, tomorrow

Hope:

The Trojans won't pull the same stunt they pulled last year, so the Foxes will be facing their whole lineup, and while the freshman are starting to shape up, they're nowhere near where they should be if they want to have a hope of defeating the best team in the sport (now that the Ravens are— Kevin's not thinking about it).

- my postcanon All For The Game Kevin & Jean fic

Rest:

She tilted, and let her forehead rest against his shoulder. His inhale seemed loud in the dark room. He let her hands go and wrapped an arm around her, blanket and all. Sisi closed her eyes on the tears.

- my canonverse SiSang fic

Tomorrow:

Vander exhales slowly. "I'll find him tomorrow. We'll figure out what's next, the three of us." He doesn't entertain the thought that Silco might be dead.

- post-prologue pre-canon Vander-centric Arcane fic

[lovethytendytenderly]

cat

Took like 3 wips but this is from the Jake/Jars smutfic

He smiles like the cat that caught the canary.

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.