#wow I’m suddenly looking forward to this movie

[not-neverland06]

you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

a/n: really wanted to write for the worst logan so I found a streaming site so I could finally watch the new Deadpool movie (yay pirating) (this is totally hypothetical and a joke to the feds lurking) I was going to just read the wiki plot but I don’t think that was going to cut it Again, using the same superhero name/powers. It’s not an OC I swear, it just makes sense in comic book movies to have some alternate name and I’m not creative enough to come up with multiple different supe names. Summary: You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day? I feel sad because I don’t think I did the angst justice with this one. But if I keep staring at it trying to fix it, then I’m never going to post it. (This is a long one guys) Angst with a happy ending (because I’m a little bitch) Makeout scenes and smut towards the very end 18+ MDNI

You don’t know how you got here, but you know you’re mad at whoever dragged you into this shit. You don’t think it would be wild to assume it was Wade’s fault. Usually, when something goes wrong in your life it’s on him. 

What you do know; you look like shit. Wade and Wolverine are both standing over you in their awesome ass uniforms and you’re still in your fucking pajamas. How are you supposed to be badass and save the world in pants that have Spiderman’s face plastered all over them?

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Wade,” you growl at him. 

He places his hand daintily on his chest and waves you off, “Save that for the bedroom, pookie.”

You grit your teeth and glare up at him, Wolverine gives him a similarly disgusted look. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you grumble under your breath. You get to your feet and brush yourself off, finally looking around and taking in wherever the fuck he’s dragged you. “Where are we?”

“The void,” Wade responds, voice ridiculously dramatic. You look around and throw your hands up in defeat. 

“What the fuck, Wade? Why did you drag me with you into this?” You look over at the Wolverine beside him. He hasn’t stopped glaring at you both and his claws are out, clearly ready to just eviscerate you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Okay, wow, language, Flux. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Eat me-”

You’re cut off by the knock-off Wolverine standing a few feet behind you both. “Flux?” He demands, voice so low you almost can’t hear him. Both you and Wade’s heads whip around to face him. Thus far he’s been relatively silent, you nearly started to wonder if he was mute. 

“It’s her X-Man name,” Wade tells him, gushing like it’s some big deal. “Impressive, huh?” You don’t bother correcting him that it was your X-Men name. Can’t exactly call yourself that if they booted you off the team for being a crappy superhero. 

Logan snorts and shakes his head. He stalks towards you and you nearly fall over in your attempt to scramble back from him. “You,” he demands, claws pointed at you threateningly. “You’re Flux?”

Wade hisses, watching as Logan swipes out at you. “Alright, peanut, let’s put the claws away and take a deep grounding breath.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps at Wade. He turns to glare at him and you take the opportunity to scramble behind your friend for protection. At least if he gets stabbed, he’ll heal. “You,” he scoffs and it trails off into a laugh. There’s no humor behind it, he's just a dick. “You are a fucking joke compared to my Flux.”

The ground underneath you rattles, pebbles bouncing off the cracked desert and ricocheting off their boots. Wade quickly moves away from you, shoving you forward so he’s not in the line of fire. “Yeah, well you’re just an alcoholic fuck who could never hold a candle to my Logan.” 

You can feel energy brewing at the tips of your fingers, waves, and waves of hate building up within you. The man across from you feels the shift, the static suddenly permeating the air around you both. You let your power build and build…

The pebbles drop back to the ground and you stumble back from Logan, nose bleeding from overextending yourself. “Shit,” you mutter, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and shaking your head. 

Logan laughs again, it echoes through the stormy sky and you wish you had any control over your powers so you could just send him flying. Or, better yet, turn his bones into liquid and flip him inside out. “Oh,” he lets out a long exhale, glaring at both of you. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” The faux smile drops from his face and he raises his voice just loud enough to make you jump, “Just one big fuckin’ joke!”

You have about five seconds to dive to the side before Logan is lunging at Wade. “Wait, wait, wait we can talk about this!” Wade shouts, but it’s too late, he’s already on the ground getting his head caved in. 

You let out a rough sigh, stumbling off to the side. You’re drained from that shitshow of powers. You barely made a few rocks levitate and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You walk away from the two men and throw yourself on the ground, trying to reorient yourself while they fight like wild animals. 

You can hear them in the background, stabbing and shooting like they’re aiming to kill. Too bad neither of them can die. It’d save you a hell of a headache.  They run past you, Logan’s got his claws buried in Wade’s gut while Wade’s desperately firing off his gun into Logan’s chest. 

Your head rolls weakly to the side and you mutter out a pathetic, “No, stop. Don’t kill each other.” As expected, neither of them listens to you. They keep fighting, showing no signs of stopping. 

There’s a moment of silence after about ten minutes of nothing but grunts and insults. You peak your head up in interest. Logan got his claws posed over Wade’s throat. You wonder if decapitation would actually kill him or if he’d somehow manage to survive that. 

Wade doesn’t seem interested in testing out the theory, “They can fix it!” Wade shouts, “They can fix your timeline. I just need your help saving mine.”

Your eyes widen and you meet Wade’s masked gaze over Logan’s shoulders. The white slits widen and he minutely shakes his head, telling you not to say anything. Like, maybe, that neither of you has any fucking clue if the TVA is capable of even fixing timelines like that. 

You know Wade is desperate when he makes that promise. It’s the only reason he would say something so stupid. It’s a blatant lie, one pulled so far out of Wade’s ass you’re genuinely surprised that Logan can’t smell the bullshit. Whatever happened in his universe must have been horrible for him to ever believe anything that comes out of any Deadpool’s mouth. 

It’s a long moment before Logan finally pulls his claws out of Wade. Your friend slumps forward in relief as Logan stalks away from him. You glare at Wade from where you are on the ground, “That was fucking stupid,” you snipe at him. He gets to his feet, walks over to you, and forcefully yanks you to your feet. 

“Not a goddamn word,” he warns, but you aren’t exactly threatened by him when he's got three holes in his head from Logan’s claws. Still, you hold your hands up and acquiesce, following after him as he chases down Logan. 

Your mind is still fuzzy when you are captured by Cassandra. You're recovering from overextending yourself, eyes blurring and limbs going limp like jello when her army of henchmen circle you all. 

You finally feel yourself starting to come back to your body when you wake up tied to Johnny. “And,” Wade draws the word out, waiting until you lift your head to finish, “there she is! Happy you could join us, princess. Mind turning these ropes into dust for me?”

You groan and let your head slump onto Johnny’s shoulder. He smirks and glances down at you. “Oh fuck off, both of you. I can’t do shit right now and you know it, Wade, I’m drained.” 

Logan is glaring at you, but there’s less hate in his glare and more confusion now. “Can you do anything?”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips screwed up while you try to decide if he’s being an asshole or genuine. “Hard of hearing or something old man? I’m drained,” you reiterate, your tone a little too bitchy. 

Logan narrows his eyes, grunting something foul under his breath. Wade interferes before you can piss each other off anymore. “She had an accident, her brain’s a little broken now. But it’s fine! Whose isn’t?”

You huff and throw yourself back against the cage you’re all being transported in. You feel eyes on the side of your head and slowly look over to see Johnny grinning at you. “Hey, you know I’ve met one of your variants-”

“Don’t give a fuck,” you interrupt. You hear Wade snicker under his mask, giving you an encouraging thumbs up even with his hands bound. You were both a little disappointed it wasn’t Captain America lurking under that cloak. But at least this guy isn’t such a prude he won’t cuss. 

For the next five minutes, you’re on the receiving end of a very enthusiastically vulgar rant about just what a cunt Cassandra Nova is. He’s still not even finished by the time you reach the gates to her lair.

Your eyes widen when you see all the people lurking around the walls. Most of them you recognize as people you’ve put away or killed in your world. But there’s something just minutely different about them than the version you faced in your timeline. Their eye color or outfit is always just slightly off. 

The familiar faces are almost a relief. But there is nothing comforting about knowing you're outnumbered two hundred to four. The cage is tipped over and you go rolling out, you grunt as Johnny’s elbow digs into your ribs. 

Before you can even attempt to shove him off, the ropes are whipped off of you and you’re dragged by an invisible force across the ground. Rocks and sand scrape across your tender skin and bury themselves deep in your pores. You hiss in pain when you finally come to a stop and your body is your own again. 

A groan slips through your parted lips unbidden as you struggle onto your knees. Your pajamas are ripped practically everywhere and you feel like you might as well be naked at this point. You really wished that you at least had a chance to change before you were kidnapped to another universe. 

The woman you presume to be Cassandra Nova is currently fucking Wade’s skull with her freakish telepathy fingers. Johnny’s a pile of guts and bones on the floor and you have no fucking clue where she flung Logan to. 

You get to your feet, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. In a second she’s in front of you, head tilted to the side while she regards you curiously. “Woah,” you jump back, glaring at her outstretched hand. 

“Careful,” Wade warns her breathlessly, still clutching his head. “Flux here has a pathological fear of bald people.”

You nod, “It’s true, you can imagine how strained my relationship with your brother was.” Cassandra circles you, a devious tilt to her lips. Your eyes track her, unwilling to take your gaze off her for even a second. You feel like a rabbit, facing down a fox that’s made its way into your burrow. 

“Curious,” she mutters. “I’ve seen quite a few of you down here before. But,” she chuckles and before you can move her hand is shoving its way into your brain. You scream, there’s an agonizing burn as her fingers probe under your eyes and dig through the deepest part of your subconscious. It feels like someone’s taking a shovel and ripping up your worst traumas. “None of them have been so weak.”

Wonderful, even she wants to insult you. You can feel the way she’s plucking through your thoughts, tossing aside the ones she doesn’t like. Images of your childhood are flashing across your vision. You can no longer see the world around you, it’s like every one of your worst memories is being played on a projector. 

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue and jerks your neck around until you’re looking at something you’ve tried to forget for years. “Here it is. How easy it would be for me to simply unblock those powers of yours.” She smiles, her face appearing before you and blocking out the bloodshed. “It would make this far more entertaining for me, what do you say?”

Your teeth are clenched so tightly you’re surprised they haven’t cracked yet. It’s hard to get the words out when her fingers are still dancing through your skull. “Fuck you,” you finally spit out. She releases you suddenly, and you surge forward with a gasp, clutching at your skull desperately. 

You half expect your brains to begin leaking from your nose and eyes. But nothing happens, despite feeling incredibly violated, everything is still in its proper place. Cassandra walks past you like everything is fine and dandy in the world. “Well, as much as I would love to see those powers of yours in action again, Flux, I’m afraid Alioth must eat.”

Before you can ask what she's talking about there’s a loud rumble. Like thunder cracking through the sky and land, the ground underneath you shakes. Cracks form under your feet and the henchmen around you all start desperately racing for cover. 

You turn around, staring wide-eyed at the purple cloud of death and destruction steadily moving across the sky. A face breaks through the clouds, grinning down at you. Purple lightning hits the ground and the villain next to you explodes into nothing but dust. 

“Shit!” You shout, turning around and running to try and avoid getting zapped up next. There’s no coming back from this one. Once this monster gets you, not even god could save you. 

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “No time for consent, we’ve got to get the fuck outta here!” Wade shouts in your ear. Logan is standing next to some robot leg, ripping out cords until a jet on the back fires up. Wade leaps onto the boot, wrapping an arm around Logan’s legs as you’re all shot into the sky. 

You’d scream if you weren’t trying not to throw up. You hurtle through the sky at speeds that have your skin nearly ripping off your skull. The rocket on the back of the leg starts to sputter out. The flames flickering out and then back to life. It steadily begins to drop until you’re plummeting headfirst towards the ground. 

Wade wraps himself around you, tossing himself off the boot so he can brace your fall. You hear and feel nearly all of his bones break under your weight. For a moment it feels like you’re laying on warm jello as you try and catch your breath. 

“Nailed it,” he mutters weakly. You’re pretty sure he can’t breathe, a rib having pierced his lung in the fall. A shadow looms over you and you glance up to find Logan glaring down at you. You stare at him apprehensively, half expecting him to unsheathe his claws and just end you right here. 

Instead, to your surprise, he holds a hand out. You look at it with suspicion, glaring back up at him. “Fucks sake,” he mutters. He reaches down, roughly grabbing your hand and jerking you to your feet. You feel the warmth of Wade’s blood on your back and grimace. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, still not entirely trusting of him. 

He purses his lips into a thin line, backing awkwardly away from you. He just nods and starts surveying the land around you. It feels less like trying to figure out where you all landed and more like awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

The whole interaction leaves you feeling odd. “Well, that was as awkward as two virgins on prom night,” Wade loudly announces as he jumps to his feet. You whip around and send him a dirty look but his attention has already been snagged by something else. Lately, you’ve been considering grounding up Adderall and slipping it into his breakfast, you think it might do him some good. 

What’s got to be the fugliest dog you’ve ever seen in your life bounds towards Wade. He drops to his knees, ripping off his mask and opening his arms wide to the mutt. You grimace, taking a step back when she starts licking his face. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”

Thankfully dogless, you steal Nicepool’s Honda Odyssey - much to Wade’s chagrin. Logan’s in the front seat, Wade beside him. You’re sitting in the back, rubbing your temples and trying to get rid of the raging migraine you’ve had since Cassandra finger blasted your brain. 

You’ve been zoning in and out of the conversation happening in the front seat of the car. But Logan suddenly slams on the brakes and you go hurtling forward. Without even looking at you, both their arms shoot out, blocking you from flying through the windshield. 

Your face scrunches up as you look at both their arms, it feels like being saved by an overbearing soccer mom. “Buckle up, princess,” Wade tells you. He shoves you back into your seat and you look between the two men suspiciously. 

“Did you just say if?” Logan growls, glaring at Wade. Your face drops, finally realizing what you’d missed. 

Wade lets out a weak chuckle, “Slip of the tongue?” Logan growls and the claws come out. Wade raises his hands, “Okay, let’s put a brake on the crazy train. I wasn’t lying it was just an educated,” for the first time in your friendship Wade is actually speechless. You’re shocked by the silence. Until, of course, he runs his mouth again and comes up with the lamest cop-out you’ve ever heard. “It was an educated wish that they could fix your timeline, alright?”

Logan doesn’t give much of a warning except a low growl before he shoves his claws deep into Wade’s thigh. “You motherfucker!”

“Hey!” You shout, jumping forward and ripping Logan’s claws out of Wade’s leg. “Look, we’re trying to save our whole fucking universe. Can you blame him for lying?” You regret opening your mouth pretty much immediately. 

You should have just stayed out of this, it wasn’t any of your business. And if they wanted to be two dumbasses and fucking tear each other apart then so be it. But you never should have drawn attention to yourself. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan shouts at you. It’s so startling, coming from him. You’re still associating him with the man you’d looked up to growing up. Your Wolverine was a hero. He was the reason you wanted to be an X-Man. And they look exactly the same, it’s nearly impossible for you to separate this one from the one you knew. 

But it's easier now. Because the man you’d known would never be so cruel and jaded to the world. Not like this. “Why the fuck are you even here? You’re just some watered-down knockoff of a real hero. You are nothing, you’re worth nothing. It’s a fucking joke that you’re alive and the woman I knew is buried six feet deep. If there was anything right in the world you would be in a grave somewhere crawling with maggots.”

Your eyes water without your permission. You don’t know this man. Yet, he has the face of your greatest hero and the man who you’d grown up hearing stories about. It’s like facing everything you’ve ever wanted to be and having it shout your deepest fears and insecurities back at you. He’s just confirming something you’ve known for years. You never deserved the title of being an X-Man. You never deserved the uniform or anything that came with it. 

Your breaths are coming short and fast, it feels like your lungs are constricting. You worry you won’t be able to get air in but he doesn’t care. No, he keeps going. “You follow this fucking clown around and you contribute nothing to the world. You’re never gonna save your fucking timeline. You can’t even make a few rocks float.” It’s not the words that hurt you next. It’s the way he says it. “You’re pathetic.”

He spits them at you. There’s venom lacing his tone like he’s seen into you and knows there’s nothing in you to offer. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen and you hate it. Because he’s looking past the sarcasm and the faux confidence you carry yourself with. 

He sees the empty husk of a woman you truly are and he’s forcing you to face it with him. It causes you physical pain, to know that everything you’ve ever feared about yourself is true. You don’t have anything to say to him, you can’t. 

Your lips tremble and you feel so fucking small. You can hear your parent's voices in your head, screaming at you and wishing you were never born. They’d rather have a stillborn than a fucked up mutant for a daughter. You see the way even other kids at the school would hide from you. You were made wrong, even as a mutant you were never truly accepted. 

Logan’s face drops ever so slightly at the prolonged silence in the car. Even Wade isn’t speaking, he’s just staring at you both. “I,” he starts, but Wade cuts him off. 

“I’m gonna hurt you now.” Wade’s never been one to let people run over you, even when you might just let yourself fall into the background. You shouldn’t be surprised when he draws a knife and stabs it into Logan’s throat. 

But the arterial spray that follows catches you off guard and suddenly your tears are dried. Instead, you’re throwing open the car door and diving out before one of them crushes you. You make it out of the car just in time, Logan having thrown Wade right where you had been sitting. 

Music starts up in the car as a result of their fighting. Divorced dad rock and the sounds of their, borderline, sexual grunting are your soundtrack for the rest of the night. You curl up at the base of a tree, waiting for them to be done with each other. 

Logan’s words continue to echo through your head. And the longer you linger on what he said the angrier you get. Not necessarily at him, but at yourself. You’ve let yourself linger in self-pity and wallow in regret for so long. 

You look in the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re a fucking joke. You toss your head back, slamming it against the trunk of the tree hard enough for it to hurt. 

There’s this manic, cloying feeling tugging at your chest. It’s like someone’s sitting on your ribs, crushing you until you can’t breathe anymore. You keep throwing your head back, letting the pain distract you until you feel warm blood leaking down the back of your scalp. 

“Shit,” you hiss, hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. You wince when you feel the split in your skin. The blood leaks over the tips of your fingers, running through the cracks of your palm. 

You force yourself to relax, to move your head away from the tree. As you go to stand up, possibly to get Wade and Logan to quit their fighting, you notice something odd. The air around you is still, you can no longer hear them grunting or groaning as they rock the Honda. 

Leaves are suspended in the air. They’re not trembling from the breeze, they’re completely frozen. You take a step forward and gasp when you hit something solid. The air in front of you has solidified somehow. 

The realization dawns on you slowly but surely. This is you, you’ve done this. Manipulated everything around you on an atomic level. You’ve turned something you shouldn’t be able to feel into something you can touch. Frozen the world around you. Whatever Cassandra had done inside your head, it had knocked something loose. 

You haven’t had this wide a range of control for years. Any attempt to do something like this has been met with nosebleeds and long periods of blacking out. Elation fills you, the hurt from earlier is nearly gone. 

You glance through the wall of air and try to see if you can still see the Odyssey. To your horror, it’s gone. You wave your hands and the air returns to normal. The leaves drift back to the forest floor and you run back to where you’d left the two men. 

There are tire tracks dug deep into the mud. You know Wade wouldn’t willingly leave you behind, not here. You don’t know if Logan’s just kidnapped him or if someone else has. Whoever was driving was clearly in a rush to get out of here. 

You must have missed it all while you were having your meltdown. “Fuck,” you shout, your voice echoing into the branches above. You take in a deep breath and start walking. Hopefully, you can catch up to them before whoever has them does serious damage. 

You make it to a weird cave/hideout area. The Odyssey is parked outside and when you peek through the broken windows you find the interior completely destroyed. There’s blood soaking through every surface, anything and everything has been smashed and bent the wrong way. 

You don’t even know if this is from Wade and Logan or whoever had snatched them. Shaking your head you back up and slink towards the entrance of the den. You can hear shouting inside, it sounds like Wade, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. 

You haven’t seen action for a long time. At least not any that you could actually contribute to. It feels a bit like riding a bike. You’d practiced on your way here, making things around you float or eradicating a few trees into nothing but dust in the wind. But this is different. 

Your friend (and Logan) are inside, possibly being tortured. Maybe even dead. Though, you seriously doubt the universe is going to be that nice to you. You let the energy build in your arms, it’s like a warm tingling feeling. It shoots down to the palms of your hands until you feel static in the air. 

You take a step inside and spot three people. Each of them is decked out in weapons. One of them turns and spots you. “Who is-” 

You don’t let him finish, throwing your hands out and slamming them all into the wall so hard the whole interior shakes. Dirt rains down from the ceilings while their faces contort in pain. You run inside, spotting Logan and Wade. 

You shoot Wade a big grin but he throws his hands up and shouts, “Read the fucking room!” Your brows furrow and he points emphatically at the people you’re holding, “Good guys!”

“Oh shit,” you release them immediately, a guilty look on your face. “I am so sorry.” Logan cackles in the back, doubled over laughing while the three people in front of you brush themselves off. 

You don’t want to be out here with him, but it’s better than being in that cave with the others. Laura walks past you, sending you an uneasy smile. You’d noticed her sitting beside Logan and decided they probably needed a few moments to themselves. 

They were finished now, though, and he had the only bottle of liquor left in the cave with him. You trudge over to him, leaves crunching under your boots. Elektra, after that horrific introduction, had given you a uniform a different Flux had left behind. 

She was long gone, killed by Cassandra years ago, but she’d conveniently been your exact size. The uniform is nearly identical to the one you have buried under your bed. Black leather with a dark purple X going across your chest and matching purple seams. You’d never wanted something ridiculously flashy. Just something that people would see and associate with the X-Men. 

Because that’s all you’d ever wanted to be; a hero. It feels like a pipe dream now. If your pajamas weren’t so destroyed you would have just stayed in them. You don’t feel like you deserve this uniform, not when the woman who’d worn it before you had actually been a hero in her timeline. 

“Don’t want company,” Logan snarks, without even looking back to see who’s coming up to him.

You take a seat on the lawn chair closest to him and snatch the bottle of whiskey from his hands. “Good,” you tilt your head back, downing as much as possible. It burns the whole way and you revel in the slight tickle in the back of your throat. 

“Alright,” Logan mutters. He gently takes the bottle back from you, giving you an aggrieved look when he sees just how much you’ve stolen. He looks back into the fire and sighs, “Look, I’m not interested in hearing about your sob story or why you’re suddenly drinking all my liquor-”

“Gambit’s liquor,” you interrupt, not bothering to look at him. “And I’m not looking to dump my sob story on your lap. I just want to sit in silence and that’s impossible because Wade hasn’t stopped running his mouth since we got here.”

He looks a little surprised by the brusque way you dismiss him, “Alright,” he mutters. He takes another swig from the bottle and you both stare silently into the fire. It’s like that for a while, you don’t bother keeping track of time. 

All you hear is the crackling of the flames. All you can feel is the way your eyes burn from staring into the fire and watching sparks pop off the logs for too long. The breeze rustles the trees, makes the leaves shake free and dance around the logs of the fire. 

He breaks the silence first, to your chagrin. “About what I said,” he clears his throat uncomfortably, still refusing to look at you, “back in the car.”

“Don’t,” you snap, voice low. “Just,” you let out a long breath and shake your head. You finally look over and meet his eyes. He does actually look sorry, but you don’t want to hear it. “Just don’t, I deserved it all right.”

“No, no you didn’t.” You open your mouth to argue but he gives you a firm look that has your jaw snapping shut. “I was wrong, I don’t know you. And if my Flux had ever heard me talking to you like that she would have melted my fucking spine.” He laughs a little and you feel your lips twitch up slightly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look anything but angry. 

Curiosity loosens your tongue and knocks you out of the dazed stupor you’ve been in. “What was she like?” You ask, tone earnest. “Your Flux, I mean, you make her sound so amazing. I just can’t,” you trail off, but the look on his face tells you he understands your unspoken words. I just can’t see myself as a real hero. 

He groans and leans back on the log he’s resting on. He stretches his legs out in front of him, the liquor bottle placed on the forest floor. You’re surprised, you figured the thing was glued to his hand. 

“Well,” he reaches up and scratches at the scruff of his chin, a wry grin on his face. “She was always giving me shit, never let me get away with anything.” You unconsciously lean forward, drawn into the endearing way he begins to describe this other version of you. 

It’s not ridiculous to assume this variant meant something to him. He’s got a shine to his eye that you haven’t seen in the whole time you’ve been together. His gaze has been empty, closed off to anything and everything. But now, his eyes are crinkling at the corners, there’s an easy smile on his face that you can’t miss. 

“Ah, she was fucking feisty. And strong, she was so strong. She was always a better hero than I was. She lived for that shit,” he trails off and shakes his head. You can see you’re losing him and you don’t want this to end. You’re in your own little bubble right now, getting to pretend there’s a version of you out there somewhere that actually lived up to her potential. 

“Her powers,” you blurt out, desperate for something to stop him from retreating back into his mind. “Did she have, um, good control over them?”

Logan nods, eyes darting down to the bottle of whiskey before flickering back up to meet your gaze again. “Yeah, Charles trained her, she was right up there with Jean. She could have,” he stops and suddenly you feel guilty for making him talk about this. You can see the tears in the corner of his eyes, the way the whites of them go red. “She could have been great.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to pry.” But you did. You were being selfish and forcing him to talk about it even though you knew it would hurt him. 

“Look, kid, she would have liked you. I’ll tell you that much,” he says reluctantly. Like the words hurt to force out. You suppose he isn’t used to being genuine with anyone. 

You shake your head and look down at your hands. “I appreciate the thought, but I doubt it.”

Logan grabs the bottle again, gulping it down like it's water. His words have a slight slur to them as he speaks again. “I think I would know, bub. ‘Sides, you made it into the X-Men, tells me what I need to know.”

You scoff and fix him with a sardonic look, he raises his brows in question and you roll your eyes. “They’ll take fucking anybody. And I still wasn’t good enough for them.”

Logan shakes his head and frowns. “If what I saw in there,” he points back to the den and you feel your cheeks warm as you remember what you’d done, “is any indication, then I’m sure you were plenty good.”

You lean towards him, elbows braced on your knees. He follows suit, leaning so close you almost want to back up. The proximity flusters you slightly but you shake the feeling off. “You don’t even know me and the first real thing you said to me was that I’d be more useful as fertilizer.”

He sighs, face screwing up at your harsh words. He runs a hand over his cheeks and groans, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You lean back in your chair and idly twirl your hand through the air. The leaves around you lift up and flutter through the air above your head. Logan watches and you turn back to him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to speak again. “Yes, you did. And you were right. I’m fucking useless, powers or not.” The leaves drop, a few fluttering into the fire. “We’re irrelevant, Wolverine, two washed-up X-Men who never looked good in the uniform.”

There’s a twinge of hurt on his face but you can’t make yourself feel bad about it. Since he’s such a fan of brutal truth, you’re sure he can handle it. 

You watch as the leaves curl up at the corners, the fire burning them straight through the middle. You get to your feet and move past him. You’re nearly back to the den when he calls, “The suit looks right on you,” over his shoulder.

You pause at the threshold of the door. He’s already drinking again, staring into the fire and watching it burn. You take a few steps towards him, staring at his broad back. “What happened to her, your me?”

Logan looks down at his hands, his ring finger specifically. You wonder at the significance of the movement, what exactly you’d meant to him. “She married me,” he mutters, voice cold and closed off again. 

“Goodnight, Logan,” you whisper, finally walking inside the den. 

You miss the small goodnight he sends back to you, finally turning around only to watch you leave. 

There had been a very clear plan set in place. Get Juggernaut’s helmet, put it on Cassandra, and then kill that psychotic bitch. Which is why you’re so confused when you’re standing knee-deep in guts and watching Logan and Wade leap through a portal above you. 

You don’t have time to feel angry or even hurt that they left without you. Laura is grabbing your arm and you’re both running for your life, trying to escape Alioth again. You run into Cassandra’s lair ducking into one of the rooms and dragging Laura with you. 

You’re both holding your breaths and praying that he’s sated by the others still outside. After a few minutes, the cracks of thunder stop and you risk peeking your head outside. The clouds have retreated back to their usual spot in the middle of the void. 

You take in the carnage of Cassandra’s evil lair. Most everybody is dead. You only have to skirt around a few people to get back to the Odyssey. 

You throw yourself in the driver’s seat and sink back against the bloodstained cushions. You let out a relieved breath and look at Laura, “What do you do to entertain yourself around here?”

You acclimated to the idea of being stuck in the void pretty quickly. There wasn’t exactly a lot waiting for you back home. Besides, Laura was nice enough. You had food, beer, and company. You didn’t really need much else. 

You’re pretty sure if you linger too long on the thought that Wade left you behind you’ll fall into a depression that you’re never going to be able to claw your way out of. So, you forced a smile on your face and played cards. Nothing else to do but wait to die of old age or for Alioth to kill you. 

Of course, your plans had to be ruined. There was an odd rush of air against your back and then a slight whoosh. Laura glanced over your shoulders and her brows furrowed, you turned around to find three armored men waiting behind you. 

“Flux,” the man glanced from you to Laura, “X-23?”

“Laura,” you both correct at the same time. 

The man gives an aggrieved sigh and holds his arm out, “Come with me, please.”

You stand up, energy tingling in the palms of your hands while you regard them suspiciously. Laura comes up behind you, claws out and glaring at them. “Why should we?” You demand. 

Barely a second later you hear the most insufferable voice in the world. “Hiya, peanut!” 

“Wade,” you hiss. You follow the armored men through an oddly shaped portal and find Wade standing beside a shirtless Logan, smiling proudly at you. “You fucking left me,” you hold up your hands and his eyes widen. 

His hands quickly come up, trying to assuage you, “Hold on now-”

You throw him back, his body hurtling into a nearby building and caving in the wall. Logan watches it happen with a small smile, “Been wanting to do that for a while.” 

Once Wade had recovered he filled you in on everything that happened. TVA did a general clean up and then you were standing in front of your apartment door, keys in hand like nothing had happened. 

It was so bizarre, going from a mission to save your timeline and then you’re expected to just go about your life. You stay standing in that hallway for you don’t know how long before you hear someone behind you. 

You jump and drop your keys when Logan clears his throat. “Shit,” you hiss, whirling around and glaring at him while your heart races. He chuckles and bends over to grab your keys for you. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. This is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, covered in blood and in a borrowed shirt. “Uh, Wade doesn’t have enough room at his place. Told me I should come over here.”

You look over his shoulder and see Wade peeking his head out of his doorway. He catches your eye, sending you a thumbs up. You almost smile but then he makes a phallic gesture with his hands, pointing at Logan and humping the air. You glare at him and he quickly backs into his apartment, but not before sending you one last encouraging shit-eating grin. 

You look back at Logan and he’s waiting expectantly for your answer. “Yeah,” you take your keys from him and unlock the door. “I’ve got a spare room but there’s no bed in it right now.” Your eyes widen when you see the mess that is your apartment. 

You quickly rush through, picking up empty take-out boxes and dirty laundry and shoving them into your room. He’s smiling at you when you come back and it's slightly off-putting. “Um,” you gesture towards the couch awkwardly. “You can take the sofa tonight and we’ll look at setting you up with something more permanent tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he hovers by the armrest and you engage in the longest stare-off of your life. Neither of you says anything for a few suffocating moments before he gestures at himself. “Shower?”

“Oh,” you snap out of your stupor and nod your head. “Yeah, right, of course.” You show him down the hall, “Here. I’ll go get you a towel.”

You rush towards your linen closet, leaving him behind in your bathroom. You grab a few clean towels and then figure he might want some clothes as well. You grab some pajamas that Wade’s left over when he’s crashed before. They’ll probably be a bit tighter on Logan, but you wouldn’t mind seeing that. 

You walk back to the bathroom and the thought of knocking doesn’t even run through your head. It should, honestly, but you’re already so thrown off by him even being here. You walk in and immediately gasp and drop the towels. 

“Oh, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s standing naked before you. Clothes discarded on the floor behind him. Everything on perfect display. Your eyes land on his abs, noticing a few prominent veins leading down-

You cover your face and turn around. “Sorry,” you mutter again. God, you’re such an idiot. You still haven’t even left. You’d just been shamelessly ogling the man naked and you don’t even have the decency to walk out. 

You really can’t help it though. It’s been such a clusterfuck, the last 72 hours. Your brain is fried and Wade’s little show hasn’t helped you at all.  

You hear Logan laugh behind you. “It’s alright,” he mutters. Something warm ghosts across your arm and you jump slightly. His hand firmly grasps your bicep, gently tugging your palms away from your face. 

You risk a glance over your shoulder and nearly gasp at how close he’s gotten. He's towering over you, something in his face you can’t place. “It’s alright,” he whispers again and you find yourself nodding without really thinking. 

He’s got both hands on your arms now, trailing up and down. The touch is so featherlight you can barely feel it at all. You don’t even realize how he’s gently coaxing you closer until you trip on the towels at your feet. 

You startle, looking down at them and moving to kick them aside. But he stops you, his finger nudging your chip up so you’ll look at him again. There is such blatant want painted across his face that it makes your heart skip a beat. Your breath catches in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you closer. 

You can feel all of him. You can feel just how much he wants you. It catches you off guard, this sudden display of attraction. You don’t know where it’s coming from, what’s brought it on. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve been so lonely for so long. You just want to bask in the fact that he looks absolutely starved for you. 

No man has ever looked at you with such heartbreakingly yearning eyes - like he’s been looking for you his whole life. He dips down, lips ghosting gently over yours. Your breaths mingle together, you can nearly taste him. 

It’s unclear which one of you moves first, who pushes closer to the other. But it doesn’t matter because the second you put real pressure behind the kiss he’s all over you. One of his hands drifts down to your ass, squeezing the flesh there and dragging you closer, grinding his hips into yours. 

You moan at the feeling, your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself even closer. He groans against your lips at the first swipe of your tongue. You part with a gasp when he picks you up, practically tossing you onto your sink. Your legs spread instinctually, making room for him as he slots himself between them. 

It’s odd, feeling so vulnerable even when he’s the one who's completely naked. It still feels like he’s holding all the power. 

His lips are moving frantically over yours like he’s terrified you’re going to disappear the second he lets go. You can taste something desperate on his tongue. Something deeply rooted inside him that you can’t identify. 

One of your hands drifts from his neck, trailing over the muscles of his chest. Your fingers carve a path down his abs, relishing in how muscular he feels under your palm. Your hand reaches his pelvis, nearly wrapped around him when he jumps back. 

He grabs your wrist in a grip so tight you know there’s going to be a bruise. A pained gasp slips out and he releases you immediately. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I can’t.” He won’t look at you now, backing up towards the shower and shaking his head. “This was a bad idea, I can’t do this.”

You shake your head, slipping off the sink and hiding your bruised wrist behind your back. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

You feel too ashamed to meet his eye. He kissed you but you feel like you’ve forced yourself on him somehow. It’s a nauseating feeling and you want nothing more than to run back to your room and hide. 

He takes a step towards you, something pained on his face. “Kid-”

You just shake your head, step out of the bathroom, and grab the handle of the door. “Sorry,” you whisper again, closing the door behind you. You lean against the cool wood, trying to catch your breath. 

Your hand drifts up to your lips, still tingling from how desperately he’d kissed you. It doesn’t make any sense. He came on to you, he threw you up on the sink, and made out with you more passionately than any man ever has before. So why are you the one who feels dirty?

You rush down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You dive under your covers, closing your eyes even though you know you won’t sleep. No, your shoulders are tensed up to your ears and your bones are vibrating with an energy you need to release. 

You’re completely tuned into the other person lurking in your apartment. You can hear as he starts the shower, how he talks quietly to himself sometimes. Then when he gets out you can perfectly picture what he looks like while he’s getting dressed and it only makes you feel worse. 

You listen as he leaves the bathroom and pauses in the hall. You can see it in your mind’s eye, how he stares at your door. He walks towards it and lingers for a minute before cussing quietly and heading back into the living room. 

You suddenly remember that you didn’t lay sheets out on the couch for him. You feel guilty, but there’s not one part of you that will be dragged from this bed and face him. Not now, at least. 

He’s up for a little while longer, getting water. Turning the TV on and off. Rooting through your cabinets looking for booze you know you don’t have. Finally, he settles on the couch. You’re awake for another hour, unable to relax until you’re completely sure he’s asleep. Even as you drift off and your body finally relaxes your mind doesn’t. You keep seeing that stricken look on his face and it makes you sick to your stomach. 

It’s the smell of pancakes that wakes you up. You’re not sure when you finally managed to pass out last night but you know it was late. Which is why you’re so pissed off that you’re being forced to get up at seven in the morning. 

You’re used to being able to sleep in a lot later than that. You’re already in a pissy mood from last night and it only gets worse as you trudge around your room getting ready. You’ve never been more thankful to have snagged one of the rare two-bathroom apartments in the building.

You don’t want to have to share a bathroom with Logan. You don’t even want to use the other one after what happened last night. It’s too embarrassing and painful to think about. The emotional whiplash of feeling so desired and then absolutely hideous is making your head spin. 

You’re sure it was all just a problem on his end, but it really doesn’t make you feel any better. When you can’t stall any longer, and you know that Logan has heard you get up, you slip quietly out of your room. 

The curtains in your living room are open and he’s in the kitchen fucking around with your stove. The news is playing quietly on the TV and you’re astounded about how little he’s done and how much more homely your apartment feels. 

It’s never really been home to you. Not after you were booted from the X-Men. But he’s somehow made it ten times cozier than it ever has been. You almost resent him a little for it. 

“Morning,” he grumbles from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he motions behind him and you see a steaming cup already waiting for you. You silently slip behind him, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pouring it until you’re sure it’s sweet enough to not actually taste the coffee. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, moving to sit at the table. You keep your eyes trained on the TV, pretending to pay attention to the news so you don’t have to look at him. He bores his eyes into the side of your head until you feel like you’re going to have holes in your temple. 

When you can’t take it anymore you finally look over at him. He doesn’t smile, his face barely even twitches, he just looks back to his pan and continues scrambling some eggs. “Didn’t know you cooked,” you offer up weakly, already growing anxious from the silence. 

It feels wrong, to be walking on eggshells in your own apartment. He grunts and shrugs, “Not really cooking. You had the mix in your pantry,” he tells you brusquely. His tone borders on rude and you scoff. 

The audacity of this man to have an attitude with you in your apartment. He was the one who threw a hissy fit last night. You roll your eyes and go back to the news, all it tells you is that the world is just as depressing as the inside of your apartment is right now. 

You notice out of the corner of your eye the way his shoulders slump forward. He leans against the oven, seeming not to care if he burns himself. You suppose it doesn’t matter, he’d just heal. “Sorry,” he mutters. It sounds like it pains him to say the words. 

“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath. You take a long sip of your coffee, slurping a little so you have something to fill the atmosphere. 

He puts some food on a plate and brings it over to the table for you. You usually don’t eat breakfast, preferring to just skip the meal and eat a bigger lunch. But it feels too bitchy to say that to him, so you just accept the food with a strained smile. “Thanks.”

He sits across from you, glaring down at your table like it insulted him. You drag your fork against the plate, letting the scrape of metal against porcelain drown out your worries. Finally, he looks at you. “Look, about last night.”

You tense up. You want to interrupt him, to stop him from explaining. You know it’s just going to hurt your feelings, whatever he says. Whether he tells you it was a mistake or he just realized he’s not attracted to you, either way, you’re fucked. But, it’s also kept you up all night so you just shut your mouth and let him speak. 

You keep your gaze trained on your plate, unable to fully face him. He lets out a long sigh and clenches his fork so tight you hear the metal bend. He drops it to the table and clenches and unclenches his fists a few times. 

“I just couldn’t kiss you, not when I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and you finally look up at him. “What?” You demand, disbelief coloring your voice. 

His eyes are boring into yours, an intensity behind the stare that leaves you feeling a little shaken. “You look like her,” he whispers, and the grief is so thick in his voice it makes your throat tighten. He pauses briefly before continuing. “There are,” he clears his throat like he’s trying not to cry. It makes you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your stomach uncomfortably. 

“There are a few differences, obviously. You’re not a carbon copy. But your mannerisms, your attitudes, you’re so similar. And I,” he shakes his head and gives you one of the most genuinely apologetic looks you’ve ever received. You can tell he really does feel guilty for projecting on you but it doesn’t make you feel any less uncomfortable. “And I just wasn’t doing that for the right reasons. I was pretending you were her and that’s just not fair to you.”

You lean your elbows on the table, head falling into your hands. You let out a rough sigh and groan in irritation. You knew the reason would hurt but you didn’t think it would be this bad. You feel gross, icky under your skin knowing that he was pretending you were another version of yourself. The version of yourself you’ve always wanted to be; the hero. 

But you also feel such a deep sadness and sympathy for him. He’d briefly mentioned that he was married to this other you. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, to see your dead wife’s face staring at you and she doesn’t even know you. 

“I,” you don’t even know where to begin. You struggle to say anything for a minute and you both just stew in the tense silence. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. You do what you always do, forcing a smile and shrugging it off. “I appreciate the honesty, really.” You stand up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and busying yourself with cleaning up. 

“Clearly,” you snap, your voice crueler than it should be, “It was a mistake. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Logan sits silently at the table. He looks like there’s more he wants to say but you don’t give him the chance. You can’t take it. You finally thought someone had wanted you for you, flaws and all. You’re a fucking idiot, he barely even knows you. Whatever connection you thought was there was just brought about by your own loneliness. 

“I gotta get ready for work,” you tell his back because he isn’t looking at you now. 

He nods, scraping his fork across the plate as he aggressively cuts into his food. “Right.” You wait for him to say anything else but he doesn’t. 

You walk past him and head back to your room. You don’t even have a job, you don’t have to work. But you still grab your purse and head out of the apartment. Pretending you do just so you don’t have to look at him anymore. 

You really should have let him finish, though. You should have let him keep talking to you. Let him explain how as much as he sees her in you, that’s not why he wants you. He wants you for you. Because as similar as you can be, you’re still a completely different person from who his late wife was. You’re someone strong and incredible and he genuinely wants you. But he can never really let himself be happy. 

It takes a few days for you both to ease up around the other. The incident in the bathroom is never brought up again. You take him shopping for clothes after a few days. It feels wrong to keep giving him Wade’s hand-me-downs. You would have had your friend take him, but you don’t trust Wade’s sense of fashion at all. 

After that and getting lunch together while you were out shopping things got a little easier. You bought him a bed for the spare room because you felt guilty seeing him all cramped up on your tiny couch. 

You don’t initiate any physical contact with each other. The closest you’d gotten was your hands brushing when you both reached for some popcorn at the same time on movie night. But you hadn’t really minded that bad. 

Eventually, he starts to feel like a real roommate and a friend. He lets little pieces of himself slip out. Slowly opens up about his past. You haven’t made any existential discoveries of course. But he tells you stories of what his X-Men were like. 

You try not to dance around the topic of his wife, you don’t want him to think you’re avoiding asking about her. But you also don’t want him to think you’re obsessed with discussing her. 

He’s right, you two weren’t carbon copies of each other at all. You might share a few things in common but the more both you and Logan learn about each other, the more clear it is how different you both are from your variants. 

Sometimes you think he looks at you like he’s really seeing you, not her. But you can never be sure and you don’t want to put much strength behind the thought in case you’re wrong. You hate the idea that when you’re thinking of nothing but him, he’s just seeing her reflection on your face. 

There’s nothing you can do about it but it doesn’t stop the hurt. 

Tonight, at Wade’s suggestion, you’re both up on the roof waiting for a meteor shower that you’re ninety percent sure is never going to happen. You’re also one hundred percent sure that Wade just tricked you out of your apartment so he could have sex in it. He and Vanessa don’t really get a lot of time alone with Blind Al around. You’re already mentally preparing for the absolute fuck storm you’re going to have to clean up after.  

There’s a light nudge on your shoulder and you glance over at Logan. He’s got the whiskey bottle outstretched towards you and you take it from him with a smile. One thing about being his roommate, your alcohol tolerance has skyrocketed. His liver might regenerate, but you’re pretty sure if you keep going down this route yours will give out in a few months. 

“Think this is actually going to happen?” You ask, pointing up toward the clear night sky. 

Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He stretches out in your flimsy lawn chair and you try not to let your gaze be drawn to the sliver of skin peeking out from his shirt. “Probably not, but I don’t mind being out here.”

There’s an unspoken, with you, that makes you smile. You meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Me either.” You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up onto the seat and huddling under your blanket. “It’s peaceful.”

You drink together in silence for a little while longer. Then you have to tap out, you don’t want your brain getting too foggy. Tonight is nice, you want to remember it tomorrow. To your surprise, he caps the bottle and places it to the side. You don’t mention it but you do feel like you’ve noticed he’s been drinking a little less. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be easing away ever so slightly. 

He looks over at you with an odd light in his eyes. You shift uncomfortably under his stare when it lasts a little longer than it usually does. You chuckle awkwardly, “Do I have something on my face?”

There’s a soft uptick to his lips as he shakes his head. “No,” he mutters, looking back out at the night. “You mind if I ask you something?”

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

He still doesn’t look at you and you worry slightly about whatever it is he’s going to ask. He doesn’t ease you into it all, “Wade said your brain was broken?” A laugh springs out of your throat from how brusque that was. He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot mentioned it in the void, been wonderin’ about it.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. You’re relaxed enough that you don’t mind answering. You don’t want to pop the soft bubble you’ve managed to create around each other. “Here,” you hold your hand out for the whiskey bottle. He gives you an apprehensive look before handing it over. 

You unscrew the cap, “This,” you say and point your hand at the glass. The liquid inside lifts into the air and you freeze it before dropping it back into the bottle with a splash, a simple little party trick. “This used to be enough to put me in a coma for two days. That’s what he meant. Something happened to me and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. You laugh a little, “I assume your wife never had problems like that?”

There’s always a fond smile when you mention his wife. Whether the memory is bittersweet or not. “She wasn’t perfect, much as I thought so. When she used her powers too much she,” he trails off and looks down at the floor. You frown, ducking your head down so you can catch his gaze. 

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you promise quietly.

But he shakes his head and gives you a weak, tight-lipped smile. “No, I want to. And I don’t want you to think you’re the only Flux who struggled. When she used her powers too much she would deteriorate. Parts of her would just disappear, I don’t even know how to describe it. They were destroying her from the inside out.”

You let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. “Well, maybe I didn't get the short end of the stick after all.” It’s quiet and for a moment you worry your humor was ill-timed. 

But he lets out a rough laugh, “No, I guess not.” He takes in a deep breath before looking back up at you. There’s no distant sadness in his eyes like there usually is when you bring her up. It seems to only be a familiar ache now, rather than something fresh and bleeding. “But what happened to you? Why couldn’t you use your powers?”

“Oh,” you look down at your lap, picking at the strings of your pants. It would be unfair to have him talk about his wife and then wimp out when it was your turn. 

“Um, There was this mission. A bunch of kids, mutants, were being held in this warehouse. It was actually pretty normal, just go in, retrieve them, and bring them back to safety. I must have done a dozen of these before, but, I don’t know. Something was this different this time around.”

You can still hear them screaming. In your mind, you hear the way they cried for help. And you see the look on your faces when they realize you can’t save them every time you go to sleep. 

You suck in a sharp breath and almost jump when his hand lands on yours. It’s gentle, he’s barely even touching you and he’s not even acknowledging what he’s doing. But you take his hand in yours and squeeze, it’s nice, grounding. 

“Long story short, they were heavily guarded and I was pretty drained from fighting off the guards. My powers were practically gone by the time we could even get to the kids. And, I don’t know, something must have gotten knocked over or hit the wrong way because smoke was filling the place and everything was on fire. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t breathe, and the kids were blocked off. There was nothing we could do to get to them. Everyone kept screaming at me, telling me to just use my abilities and get them out of there. I couldn’t,” your voice gets thick and you look anywhere but at him. “I,” your mouth hangs open and you don’t know what you could possibly say. 

There’s no excuse for what happened. “I just couldn’t,” you whisper. You sniffle and your eyes flutter rapidly, trying to stop any tears from coming. “Hadn’t been able to use my powers since then. Trauma block or something, I guess,” you dismiss yourself flippantly and shrug. 

Logan just squeezes your hand again. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to comfort you and you’re honestly grateful for the silence. You get so sick of people telling you there was nothing you could have done. Or that the others should have helped you. Because that’s not a fucking excuse. There’s no fixing what happened, no giving those parents their children back. You fucked up and you don’t appreciate people giving you cop-outs. 

You keep your gaze trained steadily on the ground, eyes going blurry while you try to slip into the back of your mind. You don’t get the chance, though. Logan is kneeling in front of you, hands slipping up your arms to cup your face. 

He forces you to look at him, to stay present in the moment with him. “You fucked up,” he tells you. It's so shocking that you can’t help but let out a loud wet laugh. You sniffle and he grins, wiping the tears out from under your eyes. His grip on your cheeks tightens and he makes sure you’re listening as he speaks, “You fucked up, kid. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your fucking hardest. And it doesn’t erase all the people you did help.”

Your eyes search him, trying to find any kernel of untruth. Trying to prove to yourself that this isn’t real. That he isn’t real. You don’t deserve this moment of such unwavering trust and faith. This is meant for someone else, for someone who deserves good things in life. 

You’ve never truly believed you deserved happiness or peace like this. But right now you don’t care because he is saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. And he actually means it. 

Your hand drifts up, covering his and tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm. It’s tentative, a test, a way to give him an out if doesn’t want this. His grip on you tightens for half a second before he shoots forward and claims your lips with his own. 

It escalates quickly. You practically melt off your chair, straddling his lap while he leans back on the ground. Your hands tug at his hair while he moves desperately over your body. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do, where he wants to touch you. 

You love how fully his hands engulf you, the tight way they cradle you to his chest. You’ve never felt more secure in someone’s arms than you do right now. He’s got you, and he wants you. For you this time, you can tell. You can tell from the way he holds you that this isn’t a desperation born from grief. It’s something else, something you’re not ready to identify yet. 

His tongue laves across the seam of your lips, silently asking permission. You smile against the kiss, parting your lips and deepening it. He licks into you, tasting you with a low grunt in the back of his throat. You feel your hips start to move of their own volition. Gently grinding down against his lap. You moan when you feel just how bad he wants you. 

You lean back, parting from the kiss and pressing a finger to his chest to keep from following. You chuckle at his eagerness, grinding your hips down again and watching the way he thrusts up to meet your movement. “Didn’t know I was such a good kisser,” you tease. 

But he doesn’t return the joke or play along. His face falls slightly and he pulls further away from you, the look on his face distant. “What?” You whisper. “Do I have bad breath?” You joke, trying to keep the mood light. 

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “No,” he mutters. He repeats the word more firmly and finally meets your gaze. “I think I need to take this slow, just because of…”

He trails off but you know what he means. His wife. You don’t know if he’s still projecting her onto you, you felt so sure he wasn’t earlier. But if every time you kiss he’s gonna pull back you’re not sure that you can do this. “Of course,” you mutter with a bite to your voice. It’s hard not to feel a little rejected every time he acts like this. 

You move to get off his lap but his hands clamp down on your hips and he shakes his head again. “You don’t have to get up.”

You hesitate, thighs still hovering over his. You should get up and put as much space between you as possible. But he’s so warm and you want to be held for a little while more. You nod and he looks relieved. You lean back down, pressing your chest against his and letting your head rest in the crook of his neck. 

He wraps a heavy arm around your back, keeping you close while the other reaches up to stroke your hair. It makes you feel small, in a good way. Like you can just relax and he’ll take care of you. 

“Goddamn,” he laughs a little and you sit up. He nods to the sky above and you turn around, gasping. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, “he wasn’t lying.” For once, Wade was telling the truth. Above you, it looks like the sky is falling. Glittering stars dart across the sky, streaks of blue following behind them. You grin, “It’s so beautiful.”

Logan keeps his eyes on you and nods, “Yeah, it is.”

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

”Wade,” you greet tightly. You shove the bottle of wine you brought into his chest and he stumbles back. “Just let us in, you freak.”

He frowns, placing a hand over his heart. “You know, it really hurts when you talk like that. I think we all need to hold hands and have a good old-fashioned jerk circle.”

You roll your eyes and flick his thick forehead. “It’s share circle, dumbass.”

”Not the way I do it,” he moves to the side and lets you both in. “Well, mi casa es su casa, especially since Vanessa and I had rockin’ sex in your bed last week.”

He walks off before you can hit him or even begin to respond to that. “I fucking knew it,” you hiss, glaring at his stupid Hawaiian shirt while he mingles with the rest of the people at the party. 

Logan chuckles behind you, “How did you two ever become friends?”

You roll your eyes and turn to face him. “I moved in next door,” you respond dryly. “This was a nonconsensual friendship because god hates me, clearly.” You shrug your jacket off and he takes it from you, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He comes back, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and leading you towards the kitchen. 

You hear Wade laughing loudly in the background and he grunts, “I’m gonna need a drink for this,” he mutters. You nod your head in agreement. You don’t get very far, though, because without any warning Wade is in front of you. He’s got his ridiculous dog in his arms and shoves her in your face. You grimace and jump back. Logan abandons you and you narrow your eyes at his retreating back. Traitor

Wade says your name with disappointment. “You know, Mary Puppins is a part of my life now. As my best friend, you need to bond with her. I can’t have you two fighting like this.” He shoves the dog into your arms without any warning and you flinch away from her wandering tongue. 

“If this thing licks me, I’m putting her down,” you warn him gravely. 

He gasps and snatches her back. “You are no longer welcome in my home,” he tells you with a snotty huff. You roll your eyes and watch him go. When he’s out of sight your lips curl up in a grin and you glance at Logan. 

He’s by the sink, making himself a drink and taking a deep swig straight out of the bottle. You creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiles, hand coming down to gently hold your arm. “What’re you doing?”

”Come with me,” you whisper. You take his hand and lead him through the apartment. You both skirt around the partygoers, giving them vague greetings and waving them off when they give you odd looks. 

Logan leans down, lips brushing across your ear as he whispers, “Where are we going?” Your knees nearly give out when you hear that low tone of voice of his. You just shake your head and lead him down the hall. You can sniff out Wade’s room from the permeating stench of his axe body spray. 

You throw the door open and drag Logan inside behind you. His nose wrinkles up at the stiff socks littering the floor and the smell. Other than that, it’s relatively clean. You actually thought this would look so much worse. 

“Now,” Logan demands, “are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Well,” you lock the door and turn around with a devious grin. “Seeing as Wade has ruined my favorite sheets, I feel like we need to get him back somehow.” You glance around the room, trying to figure out something of his you want to destroy. 

You don’t hear Logan moving towards you. You’re too busy rooting through Wade’s desk and trying to find something good to shred up.  All you’re seeing is increasingly more disturbing porno mags. He has got a serious problem with pegging. You briefly wonder if you should set up an intervention or something for him. 

You nearly yelp when Logan’s hands grip your shoulders, whipping you around to face him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do.” That’s your only warning before his lips cover your own. You melt into him immediately, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer. He grins against your lips, lifting you and placing you on the edge of Wade’s desk. 

“Mm,” you moan but shove his chest back and shake your head. “Wait,” you hop off the desk and take a seat on Wade’s bed instead. “There’s no point in this if we’re not on the bed.”

Logan shakes his head with an amused huff. He walks towards you but instead of taking a seat on the bed next to you like you'd expected, he kneels before you. Your brows furrow together and you frown. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

He gives you a gentle smile, hands coming up to rub gently over your thighs. The warmth of his palms soothes you almost immediately. “You trust me?” He asks, voice a low rumble against your chest. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. He nods encouragingly and leans forward, kissing you gently. There’s nothing expectant in this kiss. He’s doing it just to be close to you. Then you feel his hands drifting higher, fingers running over the buttons of your jeans. Your lips part, ready to ask him a question. But he just takes the chance to dip his tongue into your mouth, eagerly tasting you. You moan into it, not protesting when he presses you back into the bed. 

His fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. You lift your hips to help him tug them the rest of the way down until they’re dropping to the floor quietly. You have a million questions dancing on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find it in yourself to actually voice any of them. You don’t want to break the moment. This is the first time he’s seemed comfortable going further than kissing and some heavy petting. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your hips jolt as he runs a thumb over the wet spot on your panties. “All this just from kissing?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. You feel your face flush, cheeks warming when you realize he’s never actually seen just how much he affects you. “Relax,” he tells you, squeezing your thighs once before slipping a few lithe fingers under the band of your panties. 

He tugs them down, but the second he sets eyes on you he gets too impatient to take them off the rest of the way. They dangle off one ankle while he lifts your thighs, setting them on his shoulder and dipping down to press a gentle kiss against you. You gasp at the contact, head tilting back while you instinctually grind your hips up against him. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve actually been with anyone and you already know you’re going to cum embarrassingly quick because he fucking devours you. You’ve had boyfriends who liked to eat you out before, but this is something completely different. 

He drags his tongue over you, sucking on your clit like it’s his only true joy in life. You can’t even make noises, your jaw hanging slack while you cant your hips higher. He groans when you grind against his face, shaking his head and flicking his nose across your bud. You nearly come from the sight of him smiling against your cunt alone. You feel it building slowly, and it’s like your powers are swelling up along with your release. 

Wade’s knicknacks are floating off the shelves, some of them rotating in the air, others fluctuating between liquid and solid forms. You can’t control yourself, you’re barely aware of the chaos happening in the room around you. You just feel a warmth at the tips of your toes, swelling over your body, making your skin feel too tight. There’s little to no warning when you cum. He dips his tongue inside you and you let out a long moan, drenching his face. 

The sheets are soaking wet underneath you and you know you’ve ruined his shirt. You’ve never come that hard before and you would reflect on that more if he wasn’t still fucking eating you out. You think your brain is going to melt out of your ears, you're so overwhelmed by all the different sensations.

He dips his tongue into you, dragging out your orgasm and drinking as much of you down as he can. Your hips keep twitching, you’d be thrashing out of his hands if it wasn’t for the near brushing grip he has on your hips. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you reach down, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging. He groans at the feeling, barely leaning an inch back. “No more,” you whisper, chest heaving. 

He smiles, palms smoothing across the skin of your thighs, “You okay?” 

“Mhm,” you hum weakly. Your head falls back against the bed with a dull thunk and you struggle to catch your breath. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?” He doesn’t answer, just laughs. You jump slightly when he presses a tender kiss on your thigh, every part of you oversensitive. 

He moves slowly up your body, hands dragging your shirt up until he’s pulling it over your head. He cups your cheeks, letting you recover while he kisses your cheeks and face. You laugh slightly at the feeling of his beard tickling you. 

You pull back, meeting his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before you lean forward to finally kiss him back. You can feel yourself slowly coming back into your body. Your limbs tingle back to life while you lazily make out with him. 

His hands drift down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You laugh against his lips, arching into his touch. You reach back, unclipping your bra and throwing it off somewhere in the room. In the far reaches of your mind, you make a mental note to take that when you go. You don’t want to think about what Wade would do with it if he found it. 

Logan pulls back from you and your lips tip down at the serious look he wears. Your fingers trace the lines of his face and you tilt your head in question. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. You’re completely naked before him and he’s still clothed, you don’t want him to leave now. 

He can’t keep doing this to you. He can’t keep forcing you into these vulnerable positions and then leaving. There’s only so much rejection you can take before you start to resent him for it. 

He tilts his head down, gaze dragging across your body appreciatively. He’s looking at you like you’re art and it makes you feel like you should be in a museum somewhere. Finally, his hand drags down from your chest, wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap. 

You brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans towards you, lips trailing lightly across your jaw. “You’re not her,” he whispers against your skin. Your mouth parts, a pained breath slipping through. You try to move back from him. You hadn’t expected something like that, not now, not when you thought you’d made so much progress together. 

To have you naked, vulnerable like this, and then say something like that to you. It was fucking despicable. You shove his shoulders back but he barely moves. You shift, trying to cover yourself and fighting off the urge to cry. Why won’t he let you go? Why does he keep doing this to you? 

He reaches out, snatching up your wrist before you can get far. “I don’t want you to be. I never wanted you to be her, I need you to know that.”

He tries to kiss you but you snatch his jaw in your hand before he can. You let your nails dig in until there’s red blooming under your fingertips. He hisses, but he’s not mad, you can feel how much he enjoys the little pinpricks of pain. 

“No more pulling away,” you warn. “I’m not playing this damn game with you anymore, Logan. You want me, then commit.” You release him with a shove and his pupils dilate with want. You appreciate the gentle way he’s been treating you, but you know you’re both holding back. 

He’s the first partner you’ve been with that can actually take what you give and vice versa. There’s something only mutants understand sometimes. You normally have to hold back, have to make sure you don’t scare a guy off by making the walls shake when you come. 

You push him down onto the bed. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and running over the grooves of his muscles. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate just how gorgeous his body is before, but nothing is holding you back now. 

You snap your fingers and the buttons rip open, he surges forward catching your lips with his while you both frantically push his shirt off. He throws it off to the side and his fingers fumble with his belt buckle while you trail kisses down his neck. You glance up at him for a second before biting down on a particularly sensitive spot. 

He groans, head rolling back while you grin against his skin. You make your way back to his lips. “Don’t hold back,” you tell him, trailing your hands down to his fists and running over the spots where the claws come out. 

“Sweetheart,” he starts tone apprehensive. You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss. 

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

It’s like a switch flipping. Even the way he looks at you changes. You’re not something to be cherished and adored. You feel like a deer pinned by a wolf. He’s got you in his clutches now and there’s a real possibility you might not survive this. 

He stands up, dropping you on the bed and dragging your hips off the edge. He doesn’t kick his jeans off, just lowers them enough for his cock to hang out. You’ll address the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers later, you’re too worried about what’s hanging between his legs right now. 

You’re no virgin, but goddamn, there’s no way that’s going to fit. 

He laughs, the noise cruel and it makes shivers crawl down your spine. “We’ll make it work, kid.” He spreads your legs and you tilt your hips up, making it easier for him to just sip inside. 

There’s a slight stretch, but you’re already soaked for him. You’ve been waiting for this to happen since you walked in on him naked in your bathroom. “Oh, shit,” you toss your head back, taking in a deep breath while he pushes in. It feels like he’s rearranging your insides, molding you to fit him perfectly. 

You can already feel yourself clenching down, just being so close to him is enough to make that tingle in the tips of your toes start. He leans down, placing your legs over his elbows and rutting into you like a wild animal. There’s nothing gentle or slow about this. 

You’re both so pent-up, tired from the weeks of dancing around each other. Your nails drag up his back, blood following your movement. Your powers are actively surging against him, pain only driving you further into each other’s arms. 

You can hear his breathy grunts and groans in your ears and it’s music to you. Neither of you cares about the party going on just outside the door. You’re loud, skin slapping against skin while you loudly call out his name. 

God, you hope they hear you. Hope they realize just how thoroughly you’re wrecked for each other. You can feel yourself getting closer, hips stuttering against his while you struggle to match his pace. “Come on,” he mutters in your ear. He releases one of your legs to reach down and rub your clit. 

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching up and tugging at his hair while your back bows. It only takes a few more tight circles of his thumb before you’re spasming around him. He’s quick to follow behind you. 

He pins your hips to the bed, dropping your legs while he thrusts faster. He loses his rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he cums inside you. It’s like a mini death, you feel like you’ve lost time when you finally manage to come back to yourself. 

And when you roll your head to the side you realize just how much damage you’ve done to Wade’s bed. “Shit,” You glance up at the sound of his voice and notice little droplets of blood on your hips. Logan’s claws are out, stuck in the fluff of the bed. 

You force the words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Do that often?”

“Not really,” he mutters. The claws retreat and he rubs his fingers over the blood. It’s not bad, you’ve honestly done worse to yourself. It’s like a big paper cut. When the rough pad of his fingers presses against the cut you hiss at the sting, nearly enjoying it. 

“Must be special,” you tell him with a cheeky grin. He shakes his head with a laugh and takes his time pulling out. You hate the loss of him inside you but it's a slight relief. He's larger than any partner you’ve ever had and it’s almost overwhelming to be so full. 

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” He pats your thighs, glancing around for your clothes. 

“Uh, Logan,” he looks up and you glance at his still very hard cock. “I thought you came?”

The smile he gives you is slightly terrifying. Because there’s a promise in it. He’s not getting you dressed for no reason. He’s taking you back to your apartment so you can have more fun where there are less people and fewer reminders of Wade. “Stamina's part of the deal, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whisper, voice breathless in shock. You wipe the cum off your legs with Wade’s sheets. You feel like you’ve thoroughly gotten revenge on him for destroying your favorite bed set. Maybe, you’ve gone a little farther than revenge, though. 

You feel guilty, looking around the room and seeing everything you destroyed. Once you’re dressed, you wave your hand, putting most things back where they belong. But there’s nothing you can do about the bed. The sheets are soaked with a mixture of yours and Logan’s releases and there are six holes dug deep in the bed from his claws. 

When you step out of the room with Logan, struggling to press down your hair and get it back into place, Blind Al is waiting by the door. She’s doing a line off the back of her hand when you pass by. You think you’ve almost made it scott-free when she yells, “Man, I wish I couldn’t fucking hear,” at you. 

You tense up, shoulders to your ears while you run to the door. Logan laughs, grabbing your coat for you and pressing a hand to your back while he leads you to the apartment. “Weren’t feeling so embarrassed earlier,” he teases. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, dragging him into the apartment to finish what you couldn’t on Wade’s bed. 

You’ve managed to keep any holes out of your bed, you just have to use your powers to keep his at bay. It’s nice, not having to explain why everything around you is levitating to the person you’re having sex with. There were a lot of awkward conversations that came from that. 

You’re lying on Logan’s chest, fingers idly running over the veins in his biceps. “I want to be serious about this,” you tell him. 

His hand pauses from where it’d been stroking your back. You sit up on your elbow so you can get a better look at him. “I mean it, I,” there’s no way to say this without sounding like a complete bitch. You just have to rip the bandaid off. 

You take in a deep breath, “I know that you still miss her,” you say, unwilling to say her name. Logan sits up, looking more serious now. “But I don’t want to be with you if you think that I’m going to turn into her. Or if you think that I’m the last connection you have to her. I’m not her, Logan, and I'm never going to be her.”

You expect anger on his face or regret, maybe. But you don’t expect him to laugh at you. You roll your eyes, lips pursed while you wait for him to finish. He notices the pissy expression on your face and quiets down, but you still see a smile fighting on his lips. 

“I know you’re not her. You could not be more different” he tells you with a slight smirk, like there’s an inside joke you’re missing out on. “I was married to her for a long time and I loved her. But we had our time together. Now, I just want my time with you. You’re not her,” he leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “That’s why I want you.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest and have to fight to keep a stupid grin off your face. “Okay,” you whisper. “Good, well as long as we’re on the same page,” you tell him, faux serious. He just rolls his eyes and pulls you back into his arms. 

You’re going to cuddle up beside him when you hear your phone going off like crazy on your nightstand. Your face pinches in confusion and you reach over to grab it. 

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” you mutter, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. Logan laughs again, drawing you closer. 

a/n: i have a really weird tendency for masochism, idk what that’s about. I just feel like if you were having sex with this man, he’s taking you like a wild animal. also feel like I might be a one-hit wonder. the smut just wasn’t doing it for me this time guys nor was the angst, i’m disappointed in myself

I just don't think I did justice to his character in the movie, I might have made it too OOC/ if I did PLEASE let me know

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus ♡

[corpsebasil]

Quit Staring

ethan brainrot dont talk to me this got me like 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

The Halloween party was loud. Extremely loud, and you could barely hear yourself think, let alone the guy that was attempting to hit on you.

“So like, I’ve got this cool new game upstairs. It’s called a Ouija Board and you talk like, to the dead and shit. Wanna try it out?”

What.

“Ouija? The game literally everyone knows about?” You took a long sip of your watered down vodka red-bull and looked the frat boy up and down. “You know there’s a movie right?”

“Ah whatever.” He seemed to be slurring a bit, blinking lazily at you. “Nice dress by the way. What are you, an angel?”

You only stared, wondering if barking at him would make him go away, when an arm slid around your waist and pulled you into their chest. You tensed before realizing it was just Ethan; he’d lost his helmet at some point in the night and his dark hair was a tad bit sweaty.

“She’s Juliet.” He told the guy, gesturing to his knight costume and your angel wings. “I’m Romeo.”

“Is that, like, a movie?” The frat boy asked, peering at you in confusion. You almost gawked.

“Dude are you serious?” Ethan’s eyebrow raised. The frat boy, looking suddenly a bit embarrassed, found himself somewhere else to be. “Jesus, what an idiot.”

You snorted and pulled away, turning to face him. He seemed a little tipsy but not too bad, his expression warm and eyes soft as they stared down at you.

“Thanks for saving me.” You said, reaching out to adjust his costume a bit. “I thought I was actually losing brain cells.”

“Yeah he—”

“Ohmygoood.” A girl cooed, pausing in front of the two of you. You raised your brows and took a sip from your rapidly emptying cup. “I love that movie.” The side eye Ethan gave you was so astronomical you almost spit out your drink. “Wow. And Leo is so hot, right?” She continued, oblivious to the both of you’s disinterest.

But when she laid her hand on his shoulder, smiling flirtatiously, you felt something strangely territorial run over you. If knives could be magically produced by your vision this sorority sister’s hand would fall off.

“You don’t really look like Leo, though.” She said and you moved forward, wrapping your arm around Ethan’s waist. Her eyes widened and she immediately moved back, to her credit. You almost admired her rapid retreat. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I’m drunk. Are two you a couple?”

“Yeah—” Ethan said, at the same time as you said, “Couple of besties.”

Ethan turned his head to look at you and you avoided his stare, sure you would laugh if you saw what would most likely be his amused expression as well. The girl whistled under her breath and nodded, mumbling ‘okayyy’ under her breath as she moved away.

The second she was gone you laughed, pulling Ethan closer to you and glancing up at him. He was looking down at you with a quizzical expression on his face, his brows knit. You shook him a little, an awkward laugh leaving your mouth.

“Quit staring at me, E.” You teased. You tousled his curls and grabbed his hand, dragging him along with you. “Come on. I say we get super drunk, go to my place, and order takeout. I would massacre a small town for a Caesar salad and a Diet Coke—what?”

He’d tugged you to a stop, those brown eyes of his on your face.

“Do you—” he started, seeming hesitant, and you smiled.

“Do I what?” When he didn’t speak you took his face in your hands, ignoring the stunned expression he now wore. Lord, you must’ve been tipsier than you’d thought. “Spit it out E.”

He swallowed.

“Do you like me?”

Your eyes narrowed, thinking, before you let out a laugh. He tensed, mouth forming into a frown, but you only giggled, running your thumbs across his cheeks, not allowing him to pull back from your grip.

“Of course, E, what the fuck?” You tugged him forward and his breath hitched, but he let out a cry of protest, batting you away when you placed an extremely wet, extremely loud kiss to the side of his face.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He wiped at his cheek, glaring, but you could tell he was holding back a laugh. “That was awful.”

“I could try again.”

“I’m extremely seduced, thank you. Good god.” He wiped at his face a couple more times, cringing, before allowing you to yank him towards the drink tables.

-

An hour or so later the two of you sat bundled up in your bed, eyes glued to the screen as you watch Girl vs. Monster.

You had insisted on watching a classic horror movie and, when Ethan had asked if you wanted to see Stab 1 or Halloween or something, you’d opened up Disney Plus. Of course Ethan, being Ethan, only pretended to protest before he’d gotten into the film.

“These outfits are questionable.” He said, taking a long sip from your Diet Coke. He had his arm wrapped around you, you snuggled up into his side. “I mean, extremely.”

“This is peak Disney Channel fashion.” You argued, glancing up at him, he pressed his lips together in a smile that made him look so boyish, so adorable, that your stomach dropped. “They um—” You looked away, your face warming. “If you think this is bad you should’ve seen Shake It Up.”

“Wait, do you know that scene in Camp Rock where the girl’s playing the keyboard thingy and it’s awful and everyone pretends it’s great?”

“She’s really good.” You gasped, and Ethan’s laugh made you grin.

He tugged you further up onto to him and propped his chin on your head, his free arm looping over your waist so that he held you completely in his grasp. You felt his fingers twitch against your stomach, him getting adjusted and comfortable, and when he’d finally settled he began running his fingers lazily back and forth over your stomach.

You swallowed.

You weren’t sure why you felt like your skin was buzzing, your heartbeat quickening as you felt his chest rise and fall against your back.

“E?” You whispered, and heard the vibration of his hmmm? run through you. “When you uh,” you took in a slow breath when his arms tightened a fraction around you. “when you asked me if I liked you, what did you mean?”

His movements stilled and he sighed, shrugging. You turned in his grip to face him, your eyes searching his own.

“What did you mean?” You pressed, your cheeks flushed as you stared at your friend. He seemed to take in your expression with a hint of surprise, then with encouragement, as he reached out ran his fingers through your hair.

“I think you know what I meant.” He said, those doe eyes finding your own, and he’d barely opened his mouth to say something—you didn’t know what—before you lunged forward and kissed him.

He let out a noise of surprise that quickly turned into a sigh as you pressed your mouth against his own, clutching his shirt in your hands as his arms slid further around your back. You moved away a fraction to look at him as he pulled you to straddle his lap, and the smile he gave you was so gorgeous you screamed internally.

You felt like you needed to take a lap, to run around, to call Ethan and tell him what just— You wanted to tell Ethan about himself. Good god, this was what you got for kissing your friends.

“So I’m assuming you do like me?” He teased, biting nervously on his bottom lip, and you leaned in to kiss him again. This time it was slower, your mouth parting his own as you licked into him, and he groaned. “You have no idea,” he whispered, moving his hands to touch your face, “how long I’ve had a crush on you for.”

The butterflies you felt were insane. Especially when he asked, kissing you softly, “will you please be my girlfriend already?”

You laughed and nodded, slipping your fingers into his hair.

this shit got my kicking my FEET

[kyojurismo]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟔 : 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. +18 nsfw, 1.9k words, age difference (reader is in her 20s, satoru is in his 30s), top!satoru, dub-con, fingering, nipple play, degradation, not proofread + pls notify me if there’s something else to tag, i’ll fix it asap.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. hello dear readers. i know it took me a whole month to start posting something for my kinktober event, but life (and my depression) got in the way, so i wasn’t able to fully dedicate myself to writing (i take this opportunity to also remind y’all that 1. i do it as a hobby and 2. eng is not my first language). starting w day 6 bc i suddenly got the desire to write for satoru lol. well, that’s all from me now, i hope you guys will enjoy and please be sure to read the tags carefully !! ♡

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

satoru gojo was a close friend to your father, they worked together and sometimes he would invite satoru for dinner. he was charming and funny, so of course it never disturbed you. he also looked incredibly handsome, with those beautiful light blue eyes and white hair.

he looked so sad when you mentioned you were gonna move out for college, saying that he liked your young presence and your sense of humour, especially how you two often ended up talking about scary movies — a passion you two had in common.

you recently got back home, your father’s birthday was getting closer and you wanted to organise something to celebrate it, as long as help him decorate the house for halloween.

you weren’t exactly a fan of halloween costumes, more like you enjoyed the atmosphere and watching others dressing up as something.

you finished preparing yourself a snack when your phone started ringing, your father’s name appeared on screen.

“hey dad!”

“i’m gonna get home late tonight, i’m sorry baby. gotta catch up to some work, but we can watch the movie once i’m back if you’re not sleeping already. how does it sound?”

you took a couple of seconds to reply, because well — you’ve been looking forward to it for days, but you also knew that his job was important and that he couldn’t really left early because ‘he has some movie to watch’.

“yeah, sounds good. i’ll try my best to stay awake.”

“great! i asked satoru to pass by and check on you. i think he’ll bring something to eat too.”

“dad… i’m not fourteen, i don’t need a babysitter.”

“i know, i know. he just offered since it’s his day off.”

“whatever. see ya later.”

you hung up the phone and rolled your eyes. it was obvious your dad asked him to come over and check on you, but you didn’t mind it that much. he would leave quickly and you would end up having the rest of the evening all for yourself.

at least, that what you thought.

“i’m so surprised to see you,” you opened the door, sarcasm clear in your voice. you didn’t expect to see satoru dressed up as none other than the slender man. you chuckled, checking the mask a bit closer. “wow. you really got into it, huh?” satoru didn’t answer at first, playing the part before you rolled your eyes and walked back into the kitchen, leaving him there.

you heard the door closing a couple of seconds later, while grabbing your sandwich. satoru took off the mask and sighed deeply, glancing around the place. “what if it wasn’t me?” he sounded serious, concerned about your careless behaviour. “my father told me you were coming over to check on me, mr. babysitter.”

he rolled his eyes and put the bag with your food on the kitchen island, before looking at you. “what are you up to tonight?” he casually asked, watching you eating your sandwich in silence. you shrugged before meeting his eyes. “i’m gonna read or watch something, waiting for my dad to come home. what about you?” you smiled innocently, as if you didn’t have in plan to do a marathon of your favourite horror movies.

“dunno. my friend ditched me, so i’m all alone in this frightening night,” he pouted before smirking at your change of expression. “i’m talking about suguru, not your father.”

you rolled your eyes and pretended to be offended. you finished eating your sandwich and put the plate away. “well? are you leaving?” you asked him, making him gasp dramatically. “kids today are so poorly mannered! is this the right way to treat an old man?”

“you’re not that old, that’s also why i don’t get it how you became my father’s best friend in the first place,” satoru was around thirty years old, like ten years younger than your father. “i’m everyone’s favorite person,” he winked and you shook your head, chuckling. “you’re not, really.”

satoru looked offended and followed you into the living room, waiting for an apology. he got none. “whatever. can i stay over? maybe we can watch something together,” he asked you, genuinely interested in doing so. you thought about his offer, knowing that it wouldn’t hurt to have some company. “hm, okay. but i’m choosing,” you glanced at him while sitting down on the couch. “yeah, sure. just pick something scary.”

halfway through the movie, satoru started shifting towards you, making it look casual. you bit your inner cheek as your leg touched his, stiffening a little.

“scared?” he murmured during a moment of silence, you shook your head. “hm,” he licked his lips before looking at you, noticing how you were growing nervous.

in reality, he had been looking at you differently since earlier. you felt strange about it, but you tried to ignore it for your own good. maybe he just wanted to mess with you a little like he would usually do.

one of his hand reached your leg and started caressing your clothed thigh, you shivered and quickly glanced down at it as your heart skipped a beat. your attention was caught by the size of his hand, before you slowly looked at his face. satoru’s eyes were glued to the tv, causing you to turn towards it a bit too quickly.

were you misreading the whole situation or … ?

“satoru,” you gathered some courage to call him. “what is it?” his voice sounded deeper and you gulped louder than expected, causing a smirk to appear on his face. “what—” you gasped as his hand tightened its grip on your thigh before moving closer to your center. “hmm?” satoru finally turned to look at you, your heart pounding rapidly into your chest as he casually cupped your sex. you unconsciously clenched your thighs, trapping it between your legs.

“i’m sorry, this movie is becoming more and more boring,” he spoke casually, looking unbothered by the whole situation. he acted like he wasn’t touching your body at all.

your cheeks grew warmer, you tried to find the right words and ignore how it all was affecting your poor body. it was wrong, he was your father’s best friend and he was older than you. it was very wrong… right?

the way his hand was grinding on you caught your attention and you snapped out of it, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “we-we can’t do this… it’s wrong,” you murmured, pushing it away. “is it though? your body is telling me something else,” he chuckled and finally met your face. his gaze felt much more intimidating now, as he hungrily stared down at you.

you felt slick gathering in your underwear and you shifted uncomfortably on the couch, causing a low laugh to escape satoru’s lips. “now now, why lying?” he suddenly pulled you closer, sitting you on his lap. you could feel his erection right against your lower back, which caused your whole face to grow warmer.

“satoru, wait–” you tried to say something else before his hands pushed your legs apart, then his hands reached your chest and he grabbed your breasts, groping you experimentally. you bit back a moan, squirming under his touch. “sensitive, hm?” he went to pinch your nipples, playing with your boobs as he liked.

a sparkle of excitement filled your guts, even though a part of you knew it wasn’t right, some other was trying to convince you to give in and let him touch you. he was an experienced man for sure, different from other college students. a part of you was also craving some well deserved release. you tilted your head back, closing your eyes. you jumped as his hands slapped your thighs, making you shiver and moan softly.

“i wanna hear every sound coming from your little mouth, you got that little slut?” satoru spoke right into your ear as one of his hands slipped under your shirt while the other sneaked into your leggings, starting to caress your clothed clit. his hands were cold compared to your actual body temperature, and that caused another shiver to run down your body.

“this is wrong,” you whispered, more for yourself. he smirked and rubbed your clit faster, his hand finding a way to slip under your bra and finally touch your hardened nipple. your will to fight the moans caused by the pleasure provided by his skilled hands left your body and you finally gave in.

you moaned as satoru pushed two fingers into your wet channel, taking advantage of how much wet you were already. his long fingers were able to reach spots you couldn’t, which made your stomach turn as whimpers escaped your parted lips. “you’re this wet for your father’s friend, hm? and those sounds, that some real slutty behaviour,” satoru’s tone was completely different from before, he kept speaking — degrading, you while his fingers worked inside your cunt, thrusting deeply and hitting the perfect spot to make your toes curl and cause your back to arch, unconsciously pushing your chest into his hand. “what are you, some college whore now?” his lips kissed right under your ear, biting your neck softly before licking your shivering skin.

“n-no,” you tried to argue back, your hand grabbed his wrist desperately as you grew close to your climax. “no? then why are you this wet? you enjoy getting manhandled and fucked, huh?” satoru’s movements never faltered. “the way you’re clenching on my fingers tells me you like being degraded too.”

you were too embarrassed to reply to any of his accusations, but also too focused on the incoming orgasm. you tried to clench your thighs together as your pussy spasmed around his fingers, gushing hard as you finally came while crying his name.

you sobbed when his thumb massaged your pulsing clit, making you jolt in his lap and almost hitting his chin with your head. he chuckled at your reaction, deciding to play with you for a couple of seconds more before finally leaving your poor pussy alone.

as his hands finally resurfaced from inside your clothes, you clearly saw him licking his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste. he seemed satisfied even though you were the only one who had the privilege to have an orgasm that night.

“well, little star,” satoru moved your body off of him and placed you back in your previous position, you were still a bit dizzy from what just happened. “time to go,” he got up and stretched, before turning to look at you. “you should change yourself, hm?” he glanced at your ruined leggings before cupping your cheek with his large palm, caressing your warm skin. “i’m proud of my little slut,” he murmured before tracing your lips with his thumb, smirking at you. “goodnight,” he then patted your head and walked towards the main door, opening and closing it in a swift motion. he left as if nothing happened, he didn’t asked if you enjoyed it or not — your cunt sure did. your head was filled with too many thoughts at once. it was alright, it was wrong, it felt good, he knows how to treat a woman, he’s an asshole, it was so hot.

then one single thought filled your mind, causing you to fall back against the cushion of the couch. you found yourself staring at some random point in front of you.

satoru gojo, one of your father’s best friends, made you cum with his fingers… and it felt a bit too good.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @naomi-nana @euphiroo @eynnwwyjth @titantears @plast3c @katsuslover

[as-told-by-fangirls]

Just Friends | Part One

Plot: You and Niall have been friends for 3 years. One night, you have a movie night at your house that ends with him staying the night.

Pairing: Niall Horan x Reader

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Masterlist

* * * * *

I sat on the couch next to Niall as we watched the end of one of our favorite movies. After the credits started to roll I looked at the clock. It was almost 2:00 am. “Wow it’s really late.” I said looking at Niall.

“I should probably go then, let you get some sleep” he said as he ran his hand through his hair.

I looked over at his lean figure lounging on my couch next to me and my stomach started doing cartwheels. I had always found him attractive. I was never actually attracted to him romantically, but lately, I found myself feeling differently about him, like our friendship wasn’t enough and I wanted more. I often had to hold back the urge to kiss him or tell him how I was feeling. Right now though all I wanted to do was tear his clothes off and feel him inside me. That was something I fantasized about often but was too afraid to admit it to him.

I looked him in the eyes and just blurted out what I was thinking “you should stay” I said confidently.

“You sure?” He asked

“I’m sure”

I noticed a light blush come across his cheeks and a small smirk forming at the edge of his lips. Those lips, god I wanted nothing more than to feel them on mine. I bit my lip thinking about other places I wanted to feel his lips.

“Y/n? You okay?” I heard him ask, snapping out of my trance. I nodded “I’m fine.”

He smiled at me “Good. I’m guessing I’ll be staying in the guest room tonight?”

I wanted to say he could sleep in my bed but that seemed way too forward, for all I knew he didn’t even think of me that way. I just nodded “uh yeah, just like always.” I said.

He had stayed the night before so it wasn’t like this was unusual for us. He would stay if we drank too much or the weather was too bad to drive, but I never asked him to stay. It was always a mutual decision and he always knew he was welcome to stay in my guest room. Suddenly I regretted not taking the risk and asking him to stay in my room. He nodded and got up and we both headed to the back of the house to our separate rooms to get ready for bed.

After putting on my pj’s I suddenly realized that I had left my phone in the living room. I got up to get it and almost bumped into Niall who was walking out of the bathroom. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a towel around his waist. He always took a shower before bed.

“Oh, sorry y/n” he said chuckling a little.

“It’s okay...um...” I couldn’t focus on anything except his toned bare chest, those piercing blue eyes, and his messy wet hair.

“Y/n?” I looked back up at him. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird.” he said.

I bit my lip “nothing, I’m fine. I just forgot my phone and you startled me” I said moving past him to get my phone from the other room.

I walked back down the hall, phone in hand, going past the guest room. Niall was now changed into a pair of boxers. I just stood there and stared, biting my lip. He looked up at me and smiled.

“Hey there” He said with a smile, sitting down on the bed.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Every rational part of me was telling me to stop, but I couldn’t, I wanted him…now. I quickly walked into the room and pulled him into a kiss as he sat at the edge of the bed.

I wasn’t expecting it but he actually kissed me back. I felt him reach for my waist, his hands eventually moving down to grip my hips and ass. He swiftly pulled me into his lap, straddling his thighs.

The kiss got deeper, our tongues practically down each others throats, deep and loud panting filling the once silent room. Without skipping a beat he was picking me up and pushing me against the wall.

He began kissing down my jawline and neck, sending a shiver down my spine. I felt his kisses trail across my collarbone and back up my neck to my ear. “I’ve been wanting this so bad, I’ve been wanting you for so long” he whispered in my ear.

My breathing got deeper as his hot breathe touched my skin “me too, fuck I think about it all the time” I said pulling his lips back to mine.

He kissed me hard and passionately, as if he was never gonna come up for air. I was happy that he wanted this too, but mostly I was just extremely turned on by this side of him I’d never seen. The only thoughts going through my head were of all the things I wanted him to do to me, that until this point had been an unrealistic fantasy. There were so many things I wanted to do to him and I couldn’t wait to hear the moans that would inevitably escape from his chest. I got more wet just thinking about it.

He starting tugging at my shorts and I quickly pulled them off, along with my tank top. He picked me up and practically threw me into the bed, his blue eyes were dark, wild, and full of lust. I’d never seen him this way before and I loved it. I loved that I turned him on, he was practically feral and it was so hot.

I felt his hands roaming up and down my body as he started kissing my neck again. I moaned softly as his large, warm hands caressed my slightly cold skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

I was getting so turned on by him that I found myself wanting more contact with his body. I pushed my hips up to meet his, a deep groan escaping from his throat “shit y/n”.

I smirked and started grinding my hips into his, feeling him get harder and harder. I wanted to hear more of his moans.

Suddenly he lifted me up and unhooked my bra, tossing it aside. He immediately took one of my breasts in one hand and started sucking on the other.

“Niall, oh fuck” I moaned out, grinding on him more to feel friction where I was really craving it. He took notice to my desperation and eventually pulled off my underwear, tossing them aside too.

I proceeded to take off his boxers, watching his hard, and large, member come out. “fuck” I whispered under my breath, biting my lip. He was so much bigger than I thought he’d be.

He smirked at me “what was that princess?”

I looked up at him, “Niall, fuck me now”. I needed him in me. I needed it so bad I could practically feel him between my folds already. I was dripping at this point just watching him watch me get this turned on. What he did next I was not expecting.

He stuck the tip in slowly, causing me to moan softly, but then he pulled it out quickly. I groaned as he continued to just tease me with the tip.

“Niall, just fuck me already, I need it so bad!” I begged from underneath him. I had no clue how big of a tease he was, it was such a turn-on but I wanted all of him.

“You don’t like being teased? I’m surprised” he said smirking as he hovered over where I needed him most. It was so hot watching him tease me but my impatience was getting the best of me.

“Niall...” I whined, feeling my core leaking even more than before from how wet he was making me.

“What is it Princess?” He asked with a smirk. I scowled at him and flipped us over so I was on top. If he wanted to tease then I would do the same to him.

I straddled his lap and started grinding on him slowly. He groaned a bit and looked up at me. I just smirked and kept going, a little bit faster. I started to get more devious after a bit and started to tease myself with his tip.

He groaned “ fuck y/n, why are you doing this?”

I smirked and looked down at him “You don’t like being teased? I’m surprised”

He smirked and chuckled a bit at the idea that I used the same line on him that he had used on me.

He sat up and put his hands on my hips and flipped us over again, taking control. “No more teasing” he whispered as he slowly slid himself into me.

I felt my senses heighten and was overcome with extreme pleasure as he stretched my walls.

“Oh...Niall...” I moaned into his ear as he pushed all the way in, kissing my neck as he bottomed out inside of me. I could hear his throaty moans in my ear as he started thrusting in and out of me.

I whispered seductively in his ear “turn the lights off.” He reached over to the lamp and the room went dark.

Within minutes the room was filled with sounds of our moans, panting, and skin slapping against skin. I honestly couldn’t believe it, I was having sex with my best friend, but I didn’t care.

The way his body felt against mine, and how his hands roamed every inch of my skin was intoxicating and I couldn’t get enough, I was in pure bliss.

I couldn’t control the intense moans coming out of my mouth as I felt him sliding in and out of me with ease.

I finally got the strength to flip us over so I was on top. I held him down by his shoulders as I guided my self down onto his still extremely hard member.

I moaned at the feeling of our bodies in contact again. I started to lower myself onto him slowly, eventually picking up the pace slightly. I could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of me as I rode him. But I wanted more.

I started bouncing on him, watching as his moaned beneath me. I moaned loudly “oh fuck, you look so hot under me”

He grabbed my hips and started thrusting into me as I bounced on him. I practically screamed as I felt him continually bottoming out inside me, always hitting the same spot.

Eventually he took control again, flipping us over and started thrusting into me again at a fast pace. My nails were scratching down his back as I moaned loudly. He definitely knew what spot to hit and he was good at finding it.

The next thing I knew I could feel myself reaching my climax as Niall thrusted faster and deeper. “Niall! I’m so close! Don’t stop!” I yelled out as I ran my nails down his back.

“Me too..oh fuck...I’m gonna!” He moaned loudly with one final hard and deep thrust.

Suddenly we both realeased at the same exact time, loud moans, pants, and profanities filled the room. He rode out both our of highs then collapsed next to me. We were both a sweaty mess and completely out of breathe.

Once my head cleared I looked over at him and smiled “that was amazing” I said breathlessly, still not believing that any of that actually happened.

He smiled and leaned over, kissing me softly on the mouth “it was love, I’m glad we did that”

I smiled snd bit my lip. I didn’t know where things were going to go from here, but I didn’t care as long as I still had Niall. Whether he was my friend, my lover, or just a temporary fix I didn’t care, he’d still be my something.

* * * * *

To be continued…

[moonlit-ivy-writes]

VALENTINE

I love the light in your eyes and the dark in your heart
You love our permanent chase and the bite of our bark
We know we're classic together like Egyptian gold
We love us

“I’m sorry baby I’m not going to be there...” Jeans voice was soft through the phone, he always delivers bad news in a whisper…

“What do you mean? You’re not coming up for the week? What-what about Valentine’s Day?” You were in shock that your boyfriend wasn’t going to be able to take a break from work for a holiday with you, he’s been gone for nearly 6 months.

“I know- I know it sucks, but I should be able to get free time the following week, or- uh, no maybe sometime in March. Sweet heart I’m really sorry but I have to go now. I’ll call you when I get home okay? I love you.” He hung up the phone before you could even say it back.

You fell into your bed and screamed your frustration into your pillow.

Bzzbzzbzz

A bunch of texts spamming your phone made you look up for a minute, expecting to see texts from your boyfriend. Instead, they were just a bunch of memes from Eren.

You sent back a frowny emoji, watching him type for a while and the bubble disappeared. Eren decided to FaceTime you instead.

“Wow, what happened to you,” he must of been referring to the black streak marks of mascara smudged down your cheeks. You rub your face, trying to remove the black gunk. “What’s wrong?”

“Jeanie isn’t visiting this week and I was looking forward to spending my first Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend.” You sighed.

Eren rolled his eyes, he never cared for your boyfriend. Always thought he was stuck up, and bragged about his job too much. “Well don’t worry about it YN, If you want we can rent that slasher fic Mikasa recommended and I could possibly get Armin too…”

You sighed dramatically, “I know it’s cliche, but i was looking forward to roses and chocolates.” Even though a night surrounded by your best friends does sound comforting.

“Well, no movie then, I’ll take you out.” You looked to stunned to speak so he reiterated as “just friends” but it cut a bit inside to say that out loud. Eren has always liked you, and has done a pretty good job at hiding his feelings. Although he did kiss you once at a party, the next morning you didn’t even remember. “Cheer up, i dont like it when your sad.” He gave you a cheeky grin and hung up the call.

+++

Fresh out of a hot shower you paced your bedroom in your underwear, what do you wear on a valentines date with your best friend. You looked at the dress you had saved for Jean, no way, you thought. Opting for a typical outfit of yours instead.

“Hey i let myself in if you...what are you wearing.” Eren stood in the door. He was all dressed up.

You turned around from your vanity, your hair still wet. Framing pieces stuck to the side of your face, shit… is he early or are you running late. Eren stepped forward, raising his hand and tucking your hair behind your ear. A small tingle sparked in your stomach, but you were probably just hungry. “What? Is this not nice?” You pouted a bit kinda hurt from the reaction he had.

“I said i was taking you out out, were not going to the library...” He eyed you up and down, before spotting the dress hanging on your closet door behind you. “What’s that?” He pointed.

“Oh, that’s what I was going to wear...”

“Put it on, I’ll wait for you in the living room… oh and hurry Ive got an eventful afternoon planned.” He left your room before you could even fight him on wearing the dress. You stared at it for a few minutes and shrugged to yourself. Someone might as well see you in this. After rushing through getting ready you snapped a pic, contemplating even sending it to Jean, why did you suddenly feel a bit guilty…

+++

Eren waited impatiently outside your bedroom, he had brought flowers for you, and decided to place them in a vase on your kitchen counter. He nervously arranged the roses. Fidgeting with the tiny baby’s breath that accented the bouquet.

“Oh Eren those are beautiful, you didnt have to-“ you startled him a bit and you held back a laugh.

His cheeks heated up once he caught sight of your dress, discreetly, he scanned over your outfit, starting from the black paten leather heals with a cute dainty strap at the ankle. Cautiously gazing up your beautiful bare legs, to mid thigh where this cruel red satin dress ended. Quickly he focused onto your face, hoping you didn’t catch him gawking.

Your make up was subtle, though the red lip was nothing but. He noticed the black choker on your neck, and lost his breath. He looked for words to describe how beautiful, no, gorgeous, no stunning. “You look-“ he starred at you, “wow..” he shook his head, embarrassing himself. You just giggled and stuck your nose into the roses. A little note laid in between some petals.

To my valentine with love.

Eren.

By now all of your dejection about your boyfriend not being here was gone, you were far too excited to see what Eren had in store for you.

Sitting in his passenger seat, you let him take you wherever he had planned. Turns out the plan was the beach. You two strolled down the dock. Other couples were out having fun, playing fair games and sharing funnel cakes. Seeing couples enjoying each other made you remember you weren’t here with Jean… You looked over at Eren who must have just noticed the disappointment on your face. Shoving cotton candy into your mouth as an attempt to keep those pesky boyfriend thoughts from filling your head and ruining his scheme. His true intentions… showing you how you should be treated, and being here for you when that stupid prick wouldn’t even bother to. “Come on YN,” he grabbed your hand and led you to the best date of your life.

+++

Watching the people on the beach at the top of the ferris wheel you held on tightly to the stuffed octopus Eren had won for you earlier in the evening. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and smiled to yourself,“I’m having fun Eren, thank you.” Your hand fell to your side, and softly grazed against his. You two hold hands all of the time, but for some reason, the slightest touch made you get goosebumps. You pulled your hand away and shyly held the plushy up to your face.

“Hey anything for you YN, I love you.” Eren says he loves you from time to time,but this time ….hearing it made your heart jump. “Are you hungry? I’d hate to end your fun but our reservation is in an hour, we should get going after this.”

“Reservation? I thought we’d just have chili dogs at the stand down there,” He laughed like you said a joke, you just stared at him dazed and confused.

“Don’t look so dumbfounded,” He pinched your cheek, “the dates not over, I’m gonna take you somewhere nice.”

Date…

Of course it was a “date” but when you accepted Eren’s invitation initially you didn’t completely view it as a romantic word, more so a platonic date… but now… things are starting to feel a bit too … complicated. You left the beach full of thoughts and feelings swirling through your head.

+++

“Eren!?” You gasped, pulling up to the valet of one of the finest restaurants in your city. “Eren we can’t eat here…”

“Why not, you think I don’t have the money?” he teased you and you tried to combat his reasonings, but just like the beginning of the day he was gone before you could argue with him. Dropping his keys into the hand of a stranger and walking over to your side, opening the door for you. His chivalrous behavior made you question who you really were on a date with today. This is a side of Eren you had never seen before and you were starting to fall for it.

A hostess guided the both of you to a table that was tucked behind a privacy wall and with full view of the city scape. With a now setting sun disappearing behind buildings. You glanced at Eren who wasn’t even enjoying this outstanding view with you. He eyes caught yours and a heat radiated through your chest. Fluttering butterflies in your stomach conveniently covered the vacant feeling of guilt that sat in your belly. No, you’re just hungry… yeah that’s it.

Jean not even crossing your mind once, the two of you laughed together about old memories over steak and wine. You immersed yourself in his charm, even if you were constantly catching yourself from falling for your best friend. He’s was just being a good friend, you thought. Don’t over think things.

“Would you care for dessert this evening?”

“Yes-“

“No,” Eren cut you off and you gave him a death glare. “I have something else planned for dessert, thank you for the great meal.” Watching him use his natural charm on the waitress brought you back to reality. He was just being nice and comforting his pathetic friend. The guilt was back on, how could you even entertain whatever silly fantasy you had convinced yourself was happening. This date was definitely all in your head.

+++

Eren saved a favorite of yours for last. Fro yo.

You two would meet up here every Saturday to gossip and complain about each others lives. Well not so much anymore, since you started seeing Jean. Eren stood inline to get you your favorite flavor as you waited in a corner booth for him, checking the notifications on your phone. To your surprise you had no notifs from Jean. A bitter taste not even fro yo could recover coated your mouth. Not even a ‘Happy Vday’ text. Did he seriously forget?

“Remember when that old lady slipped and fell and she spilled her cherry berry all over herself.” Eren came back with yogurt in hand. Tears stung your waterline. Almost dropping the cups, he quickly sat next to you.

“What’s wrong YN?”

“I just realized I’m having the best date of my life and it’s not even with my own boyfriend,” you let out a genuine chuckle. Laughing at your own pathetic relationship.

“You have such an ugly laugh,” Eren sucked on his spoon.

“No i dont, shut up,” you playfully pushed his shoulder, but he moved closer to you.

“I mean it, its cute.” He took a spoon full of pink delicious yogurt and pressed it to your nose, leaving melted fro yo on the tip. You scrunched your face up, and tried to wipe it into his shoulder.

“Hey! Hey! This is my nicest jacket you’re gonna ruin it” He pulled back, but you refused to let him get away with his crimes. Playfully pushing him but in his haste to get away from you, he lost balance. Grabbing onto your arm for support he managed to pull you closer to him. Your nose, still pink, now centimeters from his face. Eren spontaneously licked the yogurt off of your face.

Time froze colder than the freaking yogurt. It felt like you were buffering a response. You honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, verbally…but your body decided to respond for you.

Closing the gap between you quickly and kissing him. You didnt know what overcame your morality in that moment but it felt good. Your heart now beating out of your chest.

“Uh-Er,” you tried to make any excuse as to why you kissed him, but sadly couldn’t come up with anything other than. “Sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry, YN,” his hand firmly gripped your waist and pulled you back in to kiss you again.

+++

You zone out one hand on the doorknob the other holding your house key. “Is it weird that I feel weird about inviting you inside.” You laughed. “You practically live at my house.”

“You know i think this time, it’s just different,” his words not matching the intense feeling that flooded into your core. “I don’t have to come in, I had a really good time YN, I-“ he caught himself before he said anything. Not wanting to say it and then have you regret everything in the morning, just to get hurt. Nothing would hurt more than that. So he chose not to say it.

“I love you Eren,” shocked by what you so effortlessly said, you examined his reaction. Trying not to misinterpret his expression. His face lit up, as if he had never heard you say it before, not like this, this time he knew you felt it the way he did.

It don't matter, be combative or be sweet cherry pie
It don't matter just as long as I get all you tonight

At that moment, Eren took a risk, kissing you this time with a hint of lust. Patiently, he waited for your cue deepening the kiss and slightly moaning in his mouth. That was it. He knew he had you. His efforts of today paying off by the sweet aftertaste of fro yo on your lips.

You blindly unlock your front door, Eren hungrily placing kisses over your neck and shoulder. You led him back into your living room, kicking off your heals while still managing to tug and pull his bottom lip in between your teeth. Guiding him all the way to your bedroom. Where this date originated from just hours ago.

So deep, your DNA's being messed with my touch
Can’t beat us
So real, fueling the fire until we combust
Can’t touch us

Eren fell to his knees the moment your dress slipped off your body and onto the floor, he peppered kisses up your thigh, worshipping your body. Chills fell down your spine as the warmth of his breath closed in on your inner thighs. He dug his face in your sex, pulling the lace fabric that was in his way to the side. Kissing softly at your exposed skin. His fingers snuck behind you, feeling your curves, before hooking and pulling off your panties entirely. He looked up at you, grinning, before diving back into your flesh. Kissing and sucking gently on your skin.

His tongue dipped between your folds, his fingers moved from your thighs, now spreading you further open for him to devour your pussy. You gasped and moaned, finding balance with a fist full of his hair, making it a disheveled mess. You found yourself grinding instinctively on his tongue, chasing the growing pleasure in your core. Fuck.

The guilt that you let take a backseat behind your lust made the high of your orgasm sinfully better.

You watch him lick you up, through fluttering lashes. You’re now coming fully undone for him. Eren smiles, growing cocky. If he can get you coming just with his tongue, he can have you screaming for him at the end of the night. He stood up ,“You taste fucking amazing YN,” Ushering you to the bed, you laid back putting on a beautiful display for him, spreading your legs proudly. Inviting him back in, he leaned down devouring you once more. Sucking gently on the bundle of sensitive nerves earning sounds of praise from you.

He took care of your pussy so well, being mindful of what you liked and didn’t. Paying attention to your moans, you got louder and more breathy when his tongue dipped inside your entrance. You found yourself coming again for him, singing his name instead of Jeans. A newfound guilty pleasure erupted from your core along with a flow of juices. You gasped never have experienced a climax like this before. Eren relished in your wetness, soaking in your arousal.

“Can you do that again for me Valentine?” He sounded so eager, it made your knees weak. Blush painted your cheeks, he was quick to pull you back into his mouth. Fleeting feelings of embarrassment and guilt floated away. Your body listening to his pleas, unraveling waves of pleasure onto his tongue again and again.

Valentine

Part two mayhaps, It’s bedtime - Ivy

[linos-luna]

Date night ❣️🔪

Yandere!Han x Fem!Reader

Warnings: light smut, groping, yandere, dub con implications ?, kissing, delusions

Han was delusional when it came to your relationship. He acted like everything was perfectly normal even though you resisted.

———————————————————————

“Ah noona, aren’t you having fun?”

You said nothing, only glaring at him. Han had you sitting in his living room with your hands zip tied together on your lap.

“I’m glad you came over for the date.” He said with a smile, putting another popcorn in your mouth. He was sitting next to you, head on your shoulder.

“I didn’t come willingly…” you muttered.

“I know, I was looking forward to this date too!” He said cheerfully while hugging you.

“Han… this is hurting…” you said while motioning to your zip tied wrists.

“Oh I almost forgot!” He said suddenly, completely ignoring what you said. “I got a gift for you!”

You sighed as he ran to his room and came back with a small box.

“I hope you like it noona!” Han said as he opened it, pulling out a necklace.

“Wow Han… it’s pretty…”

“I knew you’d like it!” He cheered while putting it on you. “I’ll buy you the ring later, I need to save some more.”

“The ring?” You ask, confused.

“Yeah noona, it’s the proper way to propose.”

“Han… can I go home now?”

“This is your home noona.” He laughed while trying to kiss you.

“But—”

“This is your home!” Han repeated more sternly, grabbing you by the jaw to make you face him.

“H-Han…?”

He kissed your lips and pulled your hair to move your head to the side for better access to your neck, giving small kisses.

“C-can you take off the ties?”

“Yeah I know you’re into that kinky stuff, noona.” Han said while patting your hand. “Don’t worry. I don’t kink shame.”

Han went back to kissing and sucking at your neck, hoping to mark you as his.

“I love you noona.” He said as he started kissing down your neck to your chest. He unbuttoned the first buttons of your shirt while lightly groping you.

“Han! I don’t-”

“Don’t worry, noona. Just relax and watch the movie.” Han said while giving a kiss on the cheek before sticking his hand under your shirt to grope you.

You shuddered at the feeling of his cold hand and stared at the blank tv screen.

“Han there’s nothing—”

“I know!” He interrupted while suddenly pinching your nipple. “I’m so glad I found your favorite movie!”

You whine at the feeling and laid your head back. It’s gonna be a long night…

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

 (Tickle) Fight Club

Panda's Notes: Hello, hi, yes, I have been slightly obsessing over this AU for the past few months, and I finally finished...a part. >w< Buckle in, kids, this is a lot longer than I first thought it would be. You can once again thank the lovely @rosileeduckie for facilitating my nonsense.

...What? No, I totally don't have recent commitments that have an encroaching deadline. What are you talking about?!

[Ao3] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

[1] || [2]

Warning: ~10K words about Miles brutalizing some folks. Enjoy. >w<

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles had a terrible habit of getting drawn in by Ganke’s nonsense.

“Hey, that character looks sick; you make that?” turned into binging episodes of an anime every night through junior year. He wasn’t complaining, but somewhere between the third movie and the 700th episode, it was a miracle his grades hadn’t completely tanked.

“Dude, nice shirt! Do those, like, spell something, or…?” became an entirely different binge through half of senior year. And Miles maybe fudged the truth a bit with one of his art teachers when he submitted a project that was only loosely inspired. Again, not complaining!

“Oh, nice mash-up, man; I loved that song when I was a kid, but I don’t know where it’s from.” You’ll never guess what happened after that. Those games were fire, though, and at least this time, he could move at his own pace, even if Ganke was nagging him over text every few days while he was away at college to geek out.

When Freshman year ended—finally, thank the gods—and Miles returned to New York, he was met at the train station by Ganke and immediately dragged to the apartment he was sharing with—

“You moved in with my brother?!” He asked in disbelief. “Wait, I didn’t even know he left home!”

“Well, technically… Your parents don’t entirely know yet—”

“What?!”

“—And he hasn’t actually moved out. I did. We just split rent here. Both of us have jobs and projects going pretty well, and he kinda just tells them he’s hanging out at my place, which is technically still true; they just don’t know my parents aren’t here—”

“Hold up, wait—” Miles flailed a bit to interrupt Ganke’s rambling. “Gross; is this like ya’ll’s love nest or something?”

Ganke’s arms dropped to his sides, a bright blush coloring his pouting face as he glared at Miles. Miles just snickered and crossed his arms tauntingly. “I’m not hearing a no, Mr. Lee~”

“Y’know, when he tossed out the idea of letting you borrow his room while he’s at school—just, like, use it as an extra little art room or whatever—I thought ‘wow, just like when we were roommates at Visions; how funny!’. But now, I’m gonna tell him you’re banned.”

“Pfft, what?!” Miles giggled, following Ganke toward the back of the apartment.

“Yep, calling him right now…” Ganke pulled his phone out of his pocket all dramatically, pretending to scroll through it.

“Ooh, I bet you have him saved under something dorky~” Miles had lunged forward, hands squeezing playfully at Ganke’s sides as he made obviously fake efforts to peek at his phone. He had a sort of squawking-type laugh whenever he was caught off guard, and Miles loved it. Even when they first met back in high school, Miles had made a habit of sneaking up and prodding him. They liked to get into little fights, usually ending in Miles wrestling Ganke into an easy pin while sneaking scribbles up his sides.

This is important information, because today, and today alone, Ganke suddenly wrenched his arm out from under his own weight, hooking Miles by the arm and rolling both of them into a reversed position. He sat heavily on Miles’ waist, his hands quickly moving to try and worm fingers into his armpits. Miles’ legs kicked as he hugged his arms tight to his sides, and his voice was tangled in nervous squeaks and giggles.

“Someone’s awfully squeaky for starting a fight with the one who knows your weak spots.” Ganke sneered, pressing lightly along the edges of Miles’ ribs to try and slip through his defenses.

“W-When did you get good at wrestling?” He asked through clenched teeth, trying to twist to one side.

“Hm, probably around the time you started sucking at it.” Ganke taunted, raising his hands slightly and wiggling his fingers.

“I do not!” Miles argued with a laugh, his leg kicking out when a few fingers traced along his neck. There was a jarring thump, and despite Miles apparently not feeling pain all of a sudden, both of them were concerned when a few things fell off of the dresser he’d kicked.

“Goddamn, you have been here for ten minutes, and you’re destroying the place!” Ganke teased, pushing himself up off of his poor guest.

“That was not my fault, and you know it.” Miles giggled as he sat up, picking up the picture frame that had fallen beside him. He glanced at it as he stood up, curiosity taking over his face as he realized something.

“Hey, wait a second; I’ve never seen you wear this!” He noted with a laugh as he got to his feet. Ganke peeked over his shoulder, and a chuckle slipped out as he remembered the photo. He was in some costume, mostly purple and some bright green. Looked like a cut-off t-shirt under a biker jacket. There was a paw print drawn on his stomach and whiskers drawn on his cheeks, and he was grinning like a champion as he held up what looked like a gold medal. If it was the same medal dangling from a hook next to the mirror, it was definitely plastic.

“Haven’t worn it in a while either.” Ganke shrugged, taking the frame and setting it just so under where the medal hung. “I should probably bring it home and wash it, actually.” He reached up and pulled the medal off the hook, smiling fondly as he ran his thumb over the feathers embossed in the plastic. He smirked slightly as he caught Miles staring at it in that all-too-familiar way.

“You wanna know how I got it~?” He asked almost tauntingly, and he laughed as Miles slapped his arm and pouted.

He seemed to be physically struggling with himself, crossing his arms as he kicked childishly at the carpet. “…Yeah.” He admitted, smiling in defeat.

-----------

“Okay, so, final checklist: the safe word is Blackout.” Ganke explained as he led Miles down the hall from the changing room. “It’s the real deal though; we basically shut the whole thing down. Very different from tapping out. Do not confuse the two. What’s the safe word?”

“Blackout.” Miles said firmly, wrapping the last loop of tape around his hand and cracking his knuckles softly.

“Nice.”

Miles was wearing a slightly loose t-shirt—kindly loaned by Ganke—and some old basketball shorts. Ganke had been pretty coy about what all this was supposed to be. He seemed to struggle with what to tell Miles without giving the whole thing away. He eventually settled on saying it was somewhere between wrestling and improv club. And, coincidentally, there was an “open tournament” coming up. It was one of the ways they invited new members; the “hands-on” way, so to speak.

“Let me see your nails…” Ganke murmured, taking each of Miles’ hands for a moment as they walked. “Okay, so, we have a little side room you’ll be waiting in. You’ll know the signal when you hear it. You’re still cool with the audience, right? It’s just the theater dorks from the other side of the building; twenty people, max.”

“I’m fine with a little crowd.” Miles chuckled, shifting closer to elbow him gently. “You still haven’t told me what’s going to happen though.”

Ganke laughed lightly and shrugged. “What’s to know? You either pin your opponent for ten seconds or you tap out if you can’t handle it. Nothing else at all~”

“You are awful.”

They chuckled with each other for a moment before quick footsteps suddenly approached from behind them. Two people jogged past them with hoods up, laughing casually as they waved at Ganke and kept running.

“Hey, you guys are late!” Ganke scolded playfully as they disappeared through a door.

“Oh, we’re late?” Miles almost flinched at the sound of a third, heavily accented voice, and someone purposefully shouldered past him. More like elbowed past him, really, which Miles realized when he turned to see a man at least a head taller than him sauntering by. “Shouldn’t you be in the booth then, mate?” His hair was done up in thick locs, and those were tied back behind his head. The man’s dark eyes fell on Miles like a weight, but he smirked as he lifted a hand from his pocket and lightly tapped Miles’ shoulder with the back of it. “Ey, you brought a new fish. Looks like he won’t last a minute.”

Miles scoffed silently, managing to contain his offended face as the man sneered and stepped away. “What’s his problem?” He asked Ganke, trying not to smile.

Ganke shrugged and snickered. “We wonder that every day, man.”

“He thinks he’s the final boss or something?” Miles asked just a bit louder than necessary, a grin pulling his lips as the man stopped and looked pointedly back at them.

Ganke looked between them for a moment, grinning a bit himself as he moved to block them. “Okay, I see where this is going. Save it for the ring, you nerds!” He teased, pressing his palm to Miles’ chest and shooing the other man away. “On ya bike, then!”

The tall man snorted, throwing his hands up as he turned and went through the door the others had used. Ganke smirked as he nudged Miles to a different door.

“You go in through here. There’s an exit on the other side. Like I said: you’ll know the signal when you hear it.” He instructed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Good luck! You know I’m rooting for you—Oh! Real quick, uh…” He pulled his hand back with an apologetic wince after grabbing Miles’ arm. “Since this is just a trial thing, we usually don’t use challengers’ real names. Privacy; just in case. You, uh, got a name in mind?”

“Geez, put me on the spot, why don’t you?” Miles wrung his hands a bit, looking away as he itched the side of his head. “I…I kinda like New Fish…” He admitted a bit hesitantly.

Ganke snorted, almost giggling. “Seriously?”

“Shut up…”

“Hey, I’m not judging~ Much.” He taunted, shoving Miles playfully before starting to pull the door closed. “What’s your safeword?”

“Blackout.” Miles spoke with an audible pout as Ganke still smirked at him.

“This is going to be great.” He snickered, motioning to Miles with one hand. “No shoes in the ring, man. See you out there.”

Miles rolled his eyes, pulling his sneakers off as he sat on a bench to wait for this supposedly obvious signal.

-------------

There was always something about the ring. Okay, look, it’s not actually a real fighting ring or anything, but just—Here, try to imagine:

There’s the timbre of the crowd: the rhythm of applause and little echoes of folks calling out their favorite cheers. When Ganke jogged into the room and the cheers redoubled, he couldn’t stop himself from basking with a grin before continuing his rush to the “Commentators’ Booth”. Frankly, they owed the theater club a lot for being such good sports; it almost felt like it was grander than eighteen chairs situated around a large square arrangement of blue gym mats.

“Little late, aren’t we, Mr. Lee~?” The young lady in the chair beside him taunted as Ganke slid into the booth. “I almost wanted to start without you.”

“Very funny, Margo.” He chuckled, leaning under their table to fiddle with the volume knob on the boombox their microphones were plugged into. “I wouldn’t miss tonight for the world; not with this turnout either!”

The audience cheered in response. They knew their roles well for not being around in a while.

“Ooh, I do love a good crowd.” Margo readjusted the cat ears clipped into her braids. “More importantly, though, we finally have a challenger again. Feels like it’s been forever.”

“Hasn’t it been, though?” Ganke sighed dramatically, resting the back of his hand on his forehead. “Reminds me of our time in the ring; those were the days.”

“Ganke, that was only, like, four months ago.”

He leaned back in his chair, draping his whole arm across his face as he pulled his microphone closer with the other hand. “An eternity in my heart, Margie.”

Margo rolled her eyes and snuck a poke at his exposed side. “Anyway, I hear this one’s a friend of yours. Any details you can sneak us?”

Ganke snickered and bat her hand away. “Nah, you’re not getting anything out of me that easily. Just know I’m betting on him. Honestly, I can’t believe he didn’t join sooner.”

“Only thing I can’t believe is that he actually let himself be called New Fish.” Margo murmured intentionally into the microphone, earning chuckles from the crowd. She blinked as her watch buzzed against her wrist. “Ooh, the gang is getting restless. Make noise; make noise!” She hit the table with open palms, signaling the audience to clap and stomp while she stood from her chair. “Yeah, get hype! And let’s welcome our newest challenger!”

Right on cue, the “challengers’” locker room door opened, and the audience cheered as Miles walked out into the small gym. He seemed just a bit nervous, but he smiled as he walked, fidgeting with his hands while he approached the mat.

“Ooh, you didn’t tell me he was cute!” Margo giggled as she sat back down. “Looks a bit familiar though, doesn’t he~?” She’d placed her hand slightly over the microphone, sneering at Ganke as she elbowed his side.

“You shut up.” He shot back, looking away as he blushed. “Absolutely irrelevant. Although, actually, I don’t really know why he never came until now.”

“Did you tell him what we’re all about?” She glanced between him and their guest waving shyly at some audience members.

Ganke leaned back in the chair, unable to keep the mischief out of his grin. “Oh…I told him enough.”

She laughed softly, giving him a little kick under the table. “Terrible.”

He smirked, letting his chair’s legs thump on the floor as he hopped to his feet. “Alright, Fish!” He called, motioning Miles over to the so-called ring. “Let’s get you in the tank, because we’re bringing out your first opponent!”

------------------

The second locker room door was pushed open, and the small crowd cheered excitedly. Miles watched warily as one of the robed figures they’d passed in the hallway casually walked out. Halfway to the mat, they finally lifted their hood off, revealing a young man just about Miles’ height with light brown skin, the brightest, most joyful eyes, and some amazing shiny hair that he started to tie under a gold headband after handing his robe over to Ganke.

He was dressed almost identically to Miles in terms of shirt and shorts style—which he was quick to point out as he stepped onto the mat—but he had several different spider shapes tattooed—or maybe just drawn—up and down his arms in glittery gold ink.

“If I had known we were going to dress the same, I’d have asked Claw to give you a color to match, machhalee.” He spoke with an Indian accent, and he took a few steps slowly to hint Miles to do the same. His eyes seemed to light up as Miles matched his circular movement, but he schooled his expression and casually set his hands behind his back. “Sooo, New Fish, since you’re new, Fish, we’ll be using our names too. They call me Sona here. Well, they call me a lot of things, but Sona’s the one I picked out.”

Miles chuckled softly, resting his hands in his pockets as they circled each other. “Sounds nice. Kinda like it means something when you say it like that.”

“Oh, it does.” Sona grinned playfully. “If you survive, I’ll tell you what it means.”

“Survive?” Miles brought a hand on his chest, letting his face act shocked. “Oh, it’s a death match, eh? I see you.”

Sona paused, giggling as he started to walk again. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

Miles shrugged with a grin. “Well, I’ve known…Claw?” He glanced over at Ganke, who nodded smugly. “I’ve known him a while. ‘No Spoilers’ is one of his Nerd Laws.”

“Hey!” Ganke called as the audience chuckled. “Pretty sure I didn’t drag you out here to insult me!”

Sona snickered. “Ah, I don’t really know how I feel about them hiding stuff from challengers, buuut, I admit I like a little surprise. So, I guess I’ll give you a hint.” He stopped, and Miles grew wary as he closed a bit of distance with slow steps. “…Tickle fight!” He laughed as he lunged.

Miles flinched, nervous excitement shooting through him at the call before he really processed what had just been said. He planted his feet firmly, catching Sona’s hands in his own and holding him back. “W-Wait; what?!” He asked in disbelief.

“Ooh, subtlety be damned; let’s go!” Ganke called as the audience cheered them on.

“Shine bright, Golden Boy!” The girl beside him—Margo, he was pretty sure—laughed, picking up her microphone.

“You’ve got some reflexes on you, huh?” Sona teased, curling his fingers where they were caught between Miles’.

“Were you actually serious?” He felt like he’d been blindsided, and, well, he had been. “It’s a tickle fight?!”

“Well~ We try not to be too serious around here.” Sona giggled. “But I wasn’t kidding.” He leaned suddenly to one side, and Miles stumbled as he yanked his hands back and shoved them against Miles’ sides. Sona followed him as he fell to the mat, kneeling beside Miles and scribbling across his stomach.

“Little early in the game to be floundering, isn’t it, Fish?” Sona teased, grabbing at Miles’ wrist as he giggled loudly. The audience groaned around sparse snickers, and Sona nearly giggled too.

Miles let out a harder laugh of his own, trying to pull his hand back. “Oho, he’s got jokes, huh? I—Hey!” He squeaked and twisted as Sona’s hand moved to squeeze up and down his flank.

“You what?” Sona smirked a bit as Miles’ free hand caught his wrist, letting his fingers scratch insistently at his hipbone as he squirmed. “You’re ticklish? You still seem a little shellshocked.” Sona walked his hand up Miles’ side, clawing quickly into his ribcage.

Miles tried to glare up at his opponent, but he couldn't fight the grin on his face. Sona was goofy and gentle; he didn’t seem to weigh much—Miles tested with weak pulls on his wrist. Oh, this was definitely going to be fun. In a quick, fluid motion, he let go of Sona’s hand and grabbed ahold of his shirt, pushing off the mat with one foot as he pulled Sona down. The audience cheered excitedly when Miles managed to roll them over, and he boxed his knees firmly against Sona’s shins.

Sona’s eyes were lit up with panic, and his cheeks ran a bit red as he laughed nervously. “Hi…” He giggled, holding his hands close to his chest.

Miles smirked, resting his hands on Sona’s wrists. “Hey.” He pulled the other man up suddenly, wrapping him in a hug and squeezing tight to pin his arms against his ribs.

“Oh, my God.” Ganke snorted, holding the mic away from his face for a moment. “I know this one.”

His cohost sat up straighter, leaning to nudge him with her shoulder. “Yeah? You want to clue us in?”

He started to say something when Sona let out a loud squeak and writhed.

“Aw, seriously?” Miles chuckled just a bit overdramatically, drawing one finger slowly back down Sona’s spine. “You totally seem like the type to have Angel Wings. Hm, maybe…” He shifted both of his hands, scribbling his nails across his shoulder blades and grinning as Sona giggled brightly and seemed to try more not to move.

“Ohh, I see now~” Miles teased right in Sona’s ear, smiling brighter at the way his giggles escalated. “That’s almost a shame.”

“N-No talking!” He whined halfheartedly, just barely managing to twist his hands enough to scribble at Miles’ waist. This quickly backfired when Miles’ flinch made him squeeze Sona closer.

“But if I don’t talk…” Miles nearly bit his tongue as he stifled a squeak. “How am I going to count these ribs of yours?” He pressed circles against the highest bone on his ribcage, sneaking his hand to that spot right under his armpit.

Sona let out a loud laugh, wrenching his arms out of Miles’ hold—almost as if he wasn’t holding him at all, actually—and shoving against Miles’ shoulders. The effort wound up pushing Sona’s back against the mat, and Miles was happy to reward him with all ten fingers digging into his ribs without a hint of mercy. This time, he didn’t even bother to grab at Miles’ hands, his arms wrapping loosely around himself as he laughed loudly.

Miles chuckled and shook his head, kneading along his lowest ribs and smirking when he squealed. “Shine bright, Golden Boy~!” He taunted, grinning brightly at the incredulous noise he heard Margo make behind him.

Sona blushed and put one arm over his face, the other flailing light slaps on Miles’ shoulder.

“That’s a tap!” Ganke called excitedly, standing up as the crowd applauded. “Sona is out!”

Miles blinked, letting his fingers go still as he glanced around the room. They were cheering for him—for both of them, really. Sona smiled up at him as he giggled and caught his breath.

“Don’t clap too hard now,” Margo snarked a bit teasingly while Miles was pulling his opponent to his feet. “Literally everyone beats Sona.”

Ganke scoffed, clearly in disbelief. “Oh, yeah?! Where was that energy when he had you on the mat last week?”

They took their time with their playful argument, and Miles took the opportunity to shake Sona’s hand, which he returned excitedly.

“You were amazing.” He said in a near whisper, his eyes bright as giggles still lined his voice.

“Yeah?” Miles said coolly, leaning a bit closer to him. “Well, next time, I want a real fight.”

Sona visibly prickled, his face running a bit redder before he just…smirked. His eyes had gone from playful to almost devious. “Oh, I don’t know if you’re ready for all that, Fish.”

It gave Miles a bit of pause. He might have just been hooked. Sona grinned again, bright as the sun, and caught Miles in a hug before taking his walk of shame. He grabbed his robe off of Ganke’s chair as he passed it and slung it across his shoulders, speeding up to a jog as he went back through the locker room door he’d originally come from. Miles stood just a bit awkwardly alone on the mat, a slight smirk pulling his lips as he fidgeted with his hands.

“Someone looks proud of himself~” Miles shot a slight glare at Margo, and she sneered back tauntingly. “Hey, keep that attitude, tough guy. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together; because we’re giving up the Ghost!”

The audience was suddenly loud and talkative; Miles could hear playful teases and jabs—particularly some coos about Ghost being adorable—under the clapping as the door opened again. Sure enough, it was the second character he remembered passing in the hallway. Pale-skinned hands came up to pull the hood back and…Miles was definitely not going to survive today unscathed.

“Ghost” was a blonde with bright blue eyes and one side of her head shaved down, and when she grinned over at Miles, he caught the piercing on her eyebrow. He gave an internal pout as he remembered his studs were with his jacket. She seemed to whisper something to Margo before letting the robe drop from her shoulders and handing it off. She was wearing a cropped t-shirt, cut just above her stomach, a loose long-sleeved jacket that stopped under her chest, and, frankly, Miles was pretty sure those were just pajama pants. Something that quickly caught his eye was the spider drawn on one side of her stomach in blue and pink. He couldn’t help but grin as she stepped onto the mat, stepping back slightly as she took a mark and rested her hands in her pants pockets.

“Eyes are up here, thanks.” She teased with a little wave; he could tell she couldn’t resist.

Miles almost laughed too, resting his hand slightly over his mouth as he tore his gaze from her little tattoo. “I’ll have you know I’m actually terrible at eye contact.”

She snickered, shaking her head as they started to circle each other, and Miles already knew he had to hear her laugh.

“Ooh, she’s hooked him.” Miles had a feeling he and Margo would get along.

“That quick? No way.” Ganke snickered.

“That’s Ghost; she’s a cutie!” Margo laughed. “It’s why everyone loves her.”

Miles pouted as he felt his face heat up, and Ghost chuckled, twirling casually as they continued to walk.

“Don’t worry, Li’l Fish,” She called playfully. “You learn to ignore the peanut gallery.”

“Excuse the hell outta you?” Ganke said firmly, causing Ghost to freeze, and Margo and the audience “Ooh~”-ed teasingly.

Ghost cringed and blushed, covering her face with both hands as she giggled.

Miles had kept walking, and he let his shoulder nudge against hers as he spoke. “So…how’s that ignoring thing workin’ out for you?”

She gave him a playful shove as the audience snickered, putting the distance between them again and smirking. “You hush.”

Miles smirked back, resting his hands on his hips. “So, why Ghost? You don’t seem so scary.”

“You think that now, sure.” She fished under her sleeve and pulled a hair tie off of her wrist, pulling her hair up into a ponytail before putting one hand back in her pocket. “But I’m told I can be haunting.” She wiggled her fingers teasingly, showing off brightly painted nails, and Miles chuckled.

“Okay, okay; you’re cute. Is that what you want to hear?”

She nearly froze up again, hints of red filling her cheeks as she smiled shyly. “Am not.”

“You so are, though. And besides, between the two of us, I’m not the one with their weak spot all exposed.”

She eyed him warily, giggles lining her voice. “You’re asking for it, huh?”

“Why don’t you come over and give it to me, then?” Miles was glad his back was to the crowd by now, but he found himself smirking as they shouted playfully. Margo and Ganke watched him with shocked smiles, and she pawed at his shoulder.

“Where were you hiding this guy?! Definitely my new favorite.” She laughed.

Ghost, similarly, had laughed in disbelief, and Miles almost sneered as he shrugged.

 “Hey, if she giggles herself half to death before I even get my hands on her, do I still win?” He snickered as Ghost looked absolutely offended.

“I’m gonna say yes!” Ganke said quickly, grinning as Ghost glared at him.

“You guys can’t just change the rules!”

Ganke looked to Margo. “I think we can.”

Margo nodded with a shrug. “I think we should.”

He smirked back at Ghost. “Just for you. Since we love you so much.”

As they spoke, Miles had inched forward, lifting one hand to aim a poke at her very exposed stomach.

And she sidestepped him easily, her hand clutching tightly on his wrist. She grinned toothily as he looked up at her, and she yanked him off balance as she swept his legs with one foot. Well, this felt familiar. He managed to keep his chin from hitting the mat, and he felt Ghost’s hand press on his back as she leaned over him. He glanced up at her, but as he made eye contact, she smirked and pushed herself away.

He felt her weight settle on his thighs, and before he could try to twist, he burst into loud laughter as her nails snuck under his shirt to scribble against his lower back. He pulled his hands in close to his chest to keep himself from flailing before reaching to grab at one of her wrists. She seemed perfectly fine to let him, and her other hand was quick to zip up his spine and pinch gingerly at the back of his neck. Miles would definitely deny the shriek he let out, but he laughed and tried to push himself over. Ghost chuckled, twisting her wrist to get ahold of his while she stood up again. She pulled him quickly onto his back, straddling his waist this time as she slipped her wrist suddenly out of his hand by pulling it back through her sleeve. She snatched his wrist with her free hand when he tried for her stomach again, and she grinned nervously as he sneered up at her.

“I’m so gonna get you~” He taunted, laughing lightly as her face went red again.

There was a hint of a stalemate, with Miles trying to read her eyes while she watched his face. All of a sudden, her sleeve was yanked out of his grip, and her hand was shooting to scribble her nails against his neck. Instantly, he cracked, laughing loudly and flailing to grab ahold of her wrists. Even when she let go of his wrist to get both hands against his neck, he couldn’t help but focus on trying to block her, and, dammit, she was much stronger than she looked.

He could hear the audience going wild as he tried to struggle, and Ghost giggled softly as she leaned closer to him. “What happened to all that big talk, Li’l Fish~?” She whispered into his ear. “Not so tough now, are we?” She took a breath before blowing gently into his ear, and Miles kicked against the mat as he practically shrieked again. The audience got a bit louder as Ghost looked expectantly at the judges.

“Aw, he kicks; that’s so cute!” Margo laughed, only for a bit of panic to shoot through her expression when Ghost turned to them. “Wait, does kicking count?! We didn’t talk about that.”

Ganke had bit his lip, glancing between the two women and the audience, and he realized he wasn’t containing his smirk very well. “I’m gonna say kicking doesn’t count today!”

“Wha—Since when?!” Ghost’s voice was pretty close to real outrage as her hands suddenly stopped, and a select few audience members backed her up with jeers.

“Since I said so!” He said more firmly, chuckling. “Consider it a perk of being in the peanut gallery.”

The audience laughed, and Ghost rolled her eyes before looking back down at Miles. As she did, he’d moved his hands, managing to land them on her waist and pressing his thumbs into her hips. She squeaked and shoved herself back, stumbling slightly as she scrambled out of his reach.

“Now she wants to run, huh?” Miles snorted, his hand catching around her ankle only for her to slip his hold before he had a full grip. She was quick to return the gesture, yanking his ankles before he could try to get up and kneeling on one of them. He struggled to push himself up onto his hands, only to nearly fall again when she dug all ten fingers into his socked sole. Keeping his hands still now was definitely nearing impossible, but he tried to also keep in mind to not kick her off of him. But, wow, she was merciless.

“So, toes are bad, huh?” She teased over his laughter, scratching under his toes as they curled tightly. “Not your weak spot, but you might get along with—Eek!”

Miles couldn’t tell if she actually didn’t expect it or she just got cocky, but she didn’t duck away this time. He’d pushed himself forward, snatching the back of her hoodie and pulling her into his arms before falling backwards. The audience was loud again as she tried to flail out of his grip, her voice already tangling itself in giggly protests as he fought to wrestle both of her arms against her sides without losing his grip on her.

“Quit that!” He giggled along with her when she kept trying to shove his face. “And what are you laughing about? I haven’t done anything yet!”

“Shut up!” She squeaked, laughing softly as she tried to catch her breath.

“You tired now, li’l fish? Flopping all over the damn place like that.” Miles taunted into her ear, smirking as she cringed and giggled. He spoke a bit louder as he heaved them both upright while keeping her square in his lap. “I’ve figured you out, by the way, they call you Ghost ‘cause you’re slippery, right? You ‘phase through’ grabs like that a lot?”

Ghost turned her head, not that she could really look at him from this angle, but he saw her grin as she shrugged casually. “Well, y’know, it’s what stuck.”

Miles scoffed, squeezing her a bit tighter. “Stuck like you, huh? I’d love to see you slip this one.” Without any more hesitation, he let one of his hands drop to her stomach and skitter across her bare skin, and he was definitely not disappointed. She squealed and immediately started to struggle again, giggles jumping to loud laughter within a fraction of a second.

“No, no; I wasn’t ready!” She whined through her squeals.

“Oh, she’s not ready…” Miles huffed with a roll of his eyes, letting his fingers go still as he dragged his hand slowly.

“You bastard…” She spat in a giggly half-whisper.

“Ghost, be nice!” Margo called down to them.

Miles teasingly blew into her ear again, dragging his nails softly before sneaking a few squeezes on her side. “Tell me when you’re ready for tummy tickles, okay?”

She blushed, shaking her head as she whined and squeaked at each little pinch. “You’re terrible! N-No…”

“Mm-hm?” He curled his fingers and tapped them against her stomach before tracing one slowly around her bellybutton. “If I press this button, will you be ready then?”

She’d had a full-body flinch at the tracing alone, kicking against the floor as she giggled loudly. “Don’t you dare!”

“Aw, c’mon~ You have to work with me here.” Miles poked her a few more times. “You ready now~?”

“Stop teasing!” Her head tipped back on his shoulder, and she yelped when he blew across the side of her neck.

He laughed, smirking softly. “You said you weren’t ready! I do have to tell you, though…” He let his fingers walk to about where he remembered that little drawing on her skin. “You’ve had this spider on you this entire time and it hasn’t moved at—” He suddenly started scribbling his fingers, absolutely relishing in the surprised shriek it got out of her. She kicked hard, knocking them both over, but he didn’t dare let her go. She barely got a chance to protest between her squealy laughs, and Miles could hear her feet flailing against the mat under the cheers of the crowd.

“Think she’s happy we let them keep the kicks now?” Ganke asked playfully, leaning on one hand.

“Yeah, she looks like she’s having fun.” Margo snickered. Both of them flinched a little when Ghost squealed again.

“Hey, do you think he can get one?” Ganke asked with a smirk.

Margo let out a cackle. “If he gets her that bad in his initiation, she will hate him.”

Miles, meanwhile, was starting to have a little bit of pity on the poor Ghost. She seemed to have tired herself out again, having stopped kicking in favor of trying futilely to curl up. She was tough; he could admit that in a heartbeat, but, frankly, his arm was getting tired.

“I’m still wondering what this does, you know.” He mused, and the only bit of mercy he offered her was slowing his fingers down just a little as he finally focused his tickling on her bellybutton.

She absolutely lost it, breaking into loud cackles as she struggled to move her arms. “N-Not there! Please, I-I can’t—!” She squealed, snorts breaking through her laughter as her cheeks ran red. The crowd went wild with cheers and teases, and Miles was pretty sure his heart was melting.

“Tap! I tap! Let go…” She cried out through squeaks, and Miles lifted his hand away and let her go. She curled up beside him, pulling her hood up to hide her face as a few more snorts slipped into her giggles.

“Ghost is out! Make some noise!” Ganke shouted, grinning as they already clapped excitedly. Miles smirked back at him, softly rubbing one hand on Ghost’s back while she caught her breath.

“You good?” He asked quietly, trying not to tease too much. “Need a hand?”

“You’re a natural.” She whispered back, smiling a bit tiredly as she looked up at him. “But you’re not ready for Spider-Punk.”

“Wha—?” He was about to ask, but she started to get up, and he stood quickly to help her.

“And anyway,” She spoke up this time, for the others to hear. “You wouldn’t have won if you weren’t pals with the judges.”

“No, honey,” Margo called back. “You might not have lost if you didn’t run your mouth off.”

Ghost pouted, crossing her arms as she levelled a glare. “Fuck you both.” She huffed, rolling her eyes and smirking.

“Ooh, Swear Jar. Five seconds.” Ganke said quickly. Without being told, Miles grabbed at her sides. He made sure to be gentle this time, barely scribbling with his nails, but she still burst into giggly squeals as she tried to push away from him. It was definitely more like three seconds, but Miles didn’t mind giving her some grace, except for the poke he landed on her bellybutton before pulling his hands back. She didn’t snort this time, but she did punch him in the arm while she grinned at him, and he could settle for that.

“Make nice, you two, let’s get moving.” Margo insisted. Miles offered his hand to Ghost, smirking broadly when she actually hesitated to take it. He might have itched the palm of her hand with one finger when he went to shake it, and she snickered and shook her head.

“You might want to think about whether you want to stick around, because I’m getting you back.” She said softly, grinning.

“Yeah, alright, Tickle Button.” He taunted playfully, laughing as she punched his shoulder again. She squeezed his hand as she turned to do the walk, snatching her robe off of Margo’s chair and flicking the side of Ganke’s glasses.

“I’ll see you in the ring next week, asshole.” She growled with a sneer, and Ganke smirked back at her.

“That’s ten seconds, Ghost.” He chuckled, covering the microphone. “I’ll see you too.”

Her face nearly faltered, but she ruffled his hair, and the audience cheered as she walked back to the locker room.

Margo stretched her arms over her head—Ganke smirked knowingly toward Miles and the audience, but he didn’t do anything—and she shook her hands out with a sigh. “My, oh my, Mr. Lee. Our first challenger in months, and he’s tearing through us. Maybe we should have gotten back in the ring instead of letting these cute little bugs handle it.”

There were claps and murmurs from the crowd, and Miles couldn’t help but be curious about that story.

“At this rate, I think you might be right, Kitty.” Ganke sighed dramatically. “But, then again, if we destroyed him first try, we wouldn’t have anything for this great crowd!” The audience cheered, and Miles couldn’t help but clap along. “And you all really have been wonderful tonight; thank you all so much for coming out—”

“You do know we’re not done, right?” Margo asked playfully.

Ganke pulled a face and pretended to wince. “Are you sure we can’t be done now?” He groaned, resting an arm over his eyes. “You know how he gets.”

Margo smirked, thumping a rhythm on the table that the audience was quick to copy with their hands. “Ladies and Gentlemen—and, of course, our dear New Fish—I want you to give me your best!” The volume grew louder, and Miles felt tingly with the energy swelling. “It’s down to the wire; the last roundup; this one’s for all the marbles! Let’s hear it for Spider-Punk!”

The audience roared—as much as, like, twenty people could compare to a roar—and a good number of them stomped as they clapped. The locker room door opened, and, predictably, Miles saw the tall British man that had inspired his dumb stage name. He bounced a bit on his toes, smiling excitedly as he watched his approach.

Spider-Punk walked confidently, with his robe already thrown over his shoulder instead of being worn. He was also wearing a cropped shirt, funny enough, but it was underneath a battle vest covered in cool patches. He wore a pair of pajama pants too—much more obvious than Ghost’s just by the pattern—and they were cut off just below his knees. He was wearing black lipstick, which he definitely hadn’t been the first time Miles had passed him. He motioned to the crowd with one hand as he purposefully draped the robe over Margo’s head, encouraging them to get louder before he stepped onto the mat.

“Well, well, well…” He practically purred, and Miles felt like a shock ran through him. “Big fish in a small pond, aren’t ya?”

Miles’ eyes lit up, and his hands flapped a bit as his brain failed to process a response.

“You’re doing the thing.” His opponent half-whispered to him, gesturing to his hands, and Miles flinched just a bit nervously. Spider-Punk grinned, chuckling. “Not sayin’ you should stop, love. Ghost’ll get you wound up like that, she’s pretty fun.”

Miles let himself giggle at that and nodded. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty cool for a ghost.” He said coolly. “Shrieks like one, too.”

Spider-Punk snorted, shaking his head as he smirked. “Fair play, fair play.”

Miles crossed his arms as they started to circle each other. “So, turns out you actually were the final boss, huh? What was that about me not lasting a minute?”

“Oh, you remember that, eh?” He laughed just a bit mockingly, his eyes scanning over Miles before his grin somehow grew even more smug. “I still stand by it.” He asserted with a shrug, resting his hands on his hips.

Miles scoffed, mimicking his little pose and rolling his eyes. “You really want to say that when you know I just wrecked two of your friends?”

Spider-Punk suddenly broke from his path, walking straight toward Miles and spooking him into a half stumble. “Do you really want to ask that when you don't know why they saved me for last?” He reached out quickly to grab Miles by his shirt to stop him from falling, pulling him sharply into a tight hug. Miles flailed slightly, bringing his hands to rest on his opponent’s arms where they squeezed softly around his neck. His own arms were completely free, but his brain also might have been overheating. He could hear the sneer in Spider-Punk’s voice when it tickled his ear. “Your freckles pop up when you blush~”

Miles fell into squeaky giggles, pulling at Spider-Punk’s arms as best he could, and his opponent only hummed casually at the effort, rolling his eyes as he rested his chin on Miles’ head and scribbled gently at his shoulders. Miles quickly switched tactics, digging his fingers into the punk’s armpits. The taller man flinched pretty hard, half a snort slipping out as he let himself laugh. Or, actually, he kind of giggled. It was rough and bass-sounding, almost scratchy, like he was just barely resisting. The crowd behind him murmured softly.

“Oh, not this again.” Miles chuckled teasingly, keeping his voice mostly low this time. “You just want to get tickles, tough guy?” He squirmed just a bit when long fingers trailed down the center of his back.

“Wouldn’t you like to kn—” Spider-Punk’s voice hitched on a louder laugh when Miles dropped his hands to scribble on bare skin and squeeze his sides, and he flinched backwards when Miles pressed his thumbs against his hipbones. Miles grinned a bit smugly as the punk stepped back, and he crossed his arms as he stepped forward.

“I wouldn’t have thought someone so cool would be so cute when he gets a few little scratches.” He taunted before faking a pout. “I expected more fight out of you though, punk.”

Spider-Punk chuckled lightly, making a bit of a show in slightly covering his sides. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?” He teased right back, setting his chin on one hand and batting his eyes. His nail polish matched his lipstick perfectly. “You should watch yourself though~ Could be in bigger trouble than you think.”

 Miles laughed, cracking his knuckles. “Well, the bigger they are…”

“That doesn’t even work for—” Spider-Punk didn’t put up much resistance when Miles hooked his arm and more or less dragged him to the floor, and he laughed brightly Miles tickled across his stomach.

“Ooh, he’s got him on the ropes, huh~?” Margo asked playfully, nudging Ganke with her elbow.

Ganke shot her a sideways glance, pout set on his lips. “Shut up.” He huffed with a chuckle, and she laughed.

Miles’ focus was stuck on Spider-Punk, his grin turning more playful as he let his fingers skitter lightly on his opponent’s back and relished the giggles it brought out of him. He had pulled Spider-Punk’s arm across his shoulders, clutching his wrist in his left hand while he tickled along his back and opposite side.

“Y’know, ‘Spider-Punk’…” Miles mused softly. “If Claw had told me that I’d just be thrown into a fake tournament to tease a bunch of adorable lees to death, I probably wouldn’t have even believed him. I’d say I’m disappointed, but it’s been pretty fun.”

The punk huffed out a laugh, sounding much more derisive than ticklish all of a sudden. “Is that what you think?”

Without any warning, Spider-Punk shifted the hand in Miles’ grip, his fingers managing to scratch along his ribcage and chip some startled giggles out of him. His other hand shot to dig into Miles’ side, completely exposed with how his arm was wrapped around the punk’s back. Miles yelped, immediately letting go of the wrist he held to flee; his opponent snickered, keeping his arm hooked across Miles’ shoulders and holding him close as he pulled some squeaky laughs from his side.

“And there it is.” Ganke fake-pouted as the audience started to get riled up. “Every time with this one.”

Margo was absolutely ecstatic, giggling brightly as she leaned on his shoulder. “If it ain’t broke, y’know? Maybe you should have warned him~”

Miles laughed and tried to flail, but the tickles he landed on the punk’s ribs were hardly distracting him. Instead, Spider-Punk leaned back, pulling his arm from around Miles’ shoulder while his other hand shoved him down to the mat. He was strong. Like, way stronger than Miles expected. When Miles tried to grab at his arm and pull, he couldn’t move an inch, and he wasn’t even sure if Spider-Punk was using his full weight. The giddy sort of panic must have shown in his eyes, because the taller man sneered as he loomed over him.

“Caught in a web, poor thing.” He taunted as he locked his knees around Miles’ legs, ruffling his hair with his free hand before leaning close. “You got a lot to learn, New Fish. For example…” He took a deep breath, and Miles didn’t even get time to panic before he was squealing with laughter as a loud raspberry was blown into the crook of his neck. His legs tried to kick, but his opponent gave him zero leeway. It didn’t help at all when he tried to push him away, only to get scribbling fingers in both of his armpits as another raspberry hit him.

Miles might have broken a little under all that; sue him.

“Oh, yeah, he’s dead.” Margo snickered as their challenger shrieked and writhed under Spider-Punk’s hold.

“Yeah…” Ganke admitted, but he glanced at Margo with a smirk. “You would know though, wouldn’t you? You have a thing or two in common with him.” He snuck a poke just under her arm, and she nearly whacked him with her microphone with how hard she flinched.

Miles, meanwhile, was trying his best to be tough, his hands gripping Spider-Punk’s sleeves to keep from flailing. Those long fingers drilled right into the center of his hollows, and his head fell back against the mat as he cackled. Spider-Punk chuckled over him, finally pulling away from his neck to whisper in his ear again.

“So, who’s the adorable little lee here again, bruv~? You talk so big, but I break brats like you.”

Miles tried to shove the punk’s face, earning some faster scribbles whenever his arms moved an inch. Spider-Punk sneered and pulled one of his hands back, catching Miles’ wrist and blowing another raspberry against his palm. His reaction was much squeakier than attacks on his weak spots, but Miles more or less collapsed in a slight daze. The punk slowly lifted his hands, chuckling a bit deviously as the poor fish tried to catch his breath.

“I’ll give it to ya, mate; you’re a tough one.” Spider-Punk taunted, slipping his hand into his pocket. “Or you’re a hypocrite. Hopin’ it’s the former, since a funny thing happens to hypocrites around here~” He drew his hand back up, and it was covered by a strange-looking glove.

“Oh, Murder Claw!” Margo shouted, and the audience went wild.

“You actual cheating bastard!” Ganke scolded with a grin. “I told you not to bring that!”

“Murder Claw! Murder Claw!” Half of the audience chanted with Margo leading on her mic.

“Margo, don’t encourage this!”

She elbowed him teasingly before playfully punching his side. “Aw, c’mon, Tiger, where’s that Panther blood?!”

“We're supposed to be behaving!” Ganke couldn't help but laugh as the energy swelled.

Miles watched nervously as Spider-Punk wound a little dial on the wrist of the glove. Something about the sound of the mechanism clicking felt…familiar. Coiling springs? It all happened within a few seconds; Miles tried to grab Spider-Punk’s sleeve, only for him to snatch his wrist and pin it firmly over his head. The pure mischief on his face was going to kill Miles before his hands did.

“Go on and give ‘em a show, lovely.” He whispered, showing off the glove on his hand before pressing one of the fingers to the side of Miles’ neck. He felt a sort of click, instantly followed by rapid vibrations that had him nearly screeching. It was barely more than two seconds, but it was almost worse than the raspberries. When the four other fingers pressed into his armpit all at the same time, Miles knew it was over. Quick as it was, that buzzing sensation had him hysterical, and his free hand flailed against the mat as he tried to writhe.

“The Fish is cooked! It’s all over!” Margo shouted over the roar of the crowd.

Spider-Punk gave him another smirk and a cheeky-bastard wink before pushing himself onto his feet, except Miles caught him gently by his wrist.

“That…was definitely more than a minute.” Miles said softly through quiet breaths.

Spider-Punk seemed to light up, barely stifling an incredulous laugh. “You don’t quit! I like it.” He said softly, taking Miles’ hand in a quick handshake before letting it fall. He grinned smugly as Margo ran to his side and hugged him with one arm.

“Your reigning champion, folks!” She called out to the audience. “Give it up for Spider-Punk!” The tall man raised his hands dramatically as the crowd clapped excitedly, seeming to relish in the attention as they started to get up and talk to him and each other.

Miles was content to stay on the mat for a moment with his tired giggles, and Ganke approached to offer him a hand. He might have gotten a little dizzy when he was heaved to stand up, but he played it off with a smirk. Ganke ruffled his hair and snuck a tickle behind his ear, and Miles shouldered him playfully as he went to do his walk of shame. But Ganke grabbed him by his shirt, pointing him toward the locker room door that his opponents had been entering from. Miles glanced at him for confirmation, getting a quick nod and a shooing motion before Ganke went to stand beside Spider-Punk.

“What a freakin’ upset, huh?” Margo said teasingly, leaning to look at Ganke.

“Yeah, I’m upset!” He insisted exaggeratedly, shaking his head as Spider-Punk hugged him to his side. “Should have known you’d let him cheat again.”

Margo laughed right back. “Well, since you want to be boring all of a sudden, and the crew’s on leave, someone has to keep up the Panther vibe, yeah?!”

--------------

Miles let them and the crowd’s chatter fade behind him as he entered the locker room. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It wasn’t even any different from the first one. Except, well, this one had a ghost leaning in from the door leading to the hallway. She quickly motioned him to follow her, holding the door open before jogging away.

They wound up at a meeting room upstairs, where Sona opened the door after they knocked.

“Told you so.” Ghost said playfully as they entered the room, and Miles rolled his eyes as Sona laughed. There were six pizza boxes on the tables in the back and a cooler stashed underneath next to what he assumed were their bags and things.

“He cheated, didn’t he?” Sona asked once the door was closed, playfully nudging Miles with his elbow.

“Is it really cheating when we know he’s going to do it though?” Ghost rummaged in the cooler for a juice pouch before also snatching a half-finished water bottle from the edge of the table.

“I feel kind of cheated.” Miles said with a shrug, crossing his arms.

The pair of them looked at him with wary expectation, seemingly worried about him.

“I mean, I had a whole fight with you—” He looked pointedly as Ghost. “—And I didn’t even know raspberries were legal. Seems unfair to me.”

He let a taunting grin spread across his lips as Ghost glared at him with a rising blush. Sona had burst out laughing, patting him on his shoulder.

“I really hope you stick around, Fish; you’re hilarious.” He giggled.

“Yeah, you’ll be laughing, all right.” Ghost pouted for a moment, but she started to laugh along with Sona.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Sona stood in front of him, resting his hands on his hips as if he was a superhero or something. “My name is Pavitr. Forgive me if it’s forward, but you’re Miles, right? It’s so cool to finally meet you!”

Miles was a little surprised, but he quickly realized what had happened. “I take it Ganke talks about me a lot?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, definitely.” Ghost nodded, smiling as she leaned slightly on the circular table in the middle of the room. “And somehow, he neglected to mention that you’re a five-alarm tease.”

“Well, time and place, y’know.” He shrugged, chuckling. “Although, I guess I haven’t teased him in a while~”

“You are something else.” Ghost said, playfully flinging the now empty water bottle at Miles’ head before offering a handshake. “I’m Gwen, by the way.”

Miles accepted it without any mischief this time, and she smiled much more genuinely this time. Pavitr approached him from the side, pressing a cold bottle of water against his arm and giggling as he snatched it from him.

“You can grab a plate, by the way.” He offered, opening his own water bottle to take a drink. “We kind of got them for you. Oh, except those two big ones on the end.”

“Oh, yeah?” Miles chuckled, as if he hadn’t been eying the table since he’d walked in. Of course, he had to have been raised to never take the first plate.

Gwen nodded, pushing herself up to sit on the table. “We haven’t had a tournament in a long time, and it’s been even longer since we had a new challenger. We’re celebrating a little, and since somebody didn’t win, it’s more a little party for all of us.”

“You really do snark a lot for someone in a crop top.” Miles grinned and shook his head.

“Maybe, but at least I’m not the one with spider bites on my neck.” She taunted, and Miles could feel his face heating up as he realized what she meant. She laughed teasingly as he covered the side of his neck with one hand.

The door opened suddenly, and a very loud Spider-Punk burst in with Ganke, Margo, and a couple of faces from the audience in tow. “Oi, oi, what’s up, losers?!”

Gwen sighed loudly. “There goes the neighborhood.” She rolled her eyes and smirked as he approached her first.

“Love you too, Gwendy~” He said playfully, ruffling her hair as he leaned to kiss her forehead. His smile widened as he spotted Miles, and he strode up to him like he could definitely tell Miles’ head was spinning. “You stuck around, huh?” He offered his hand and that stupid wink. “Hobie Brown, at ya service, love.”

Accepting the handshake was apparently the wrong decision, because it ended in Miles being yanked into a tight hug as Hobie laughed a bit mockingly. He wasn’t even doing anything, but Miles couldn’t help laughing with him and trying to squirm away, only for Pavitr and Gwen to pile on the two of them.

Ganke had placed Miles’ shoes and things under the table with the others’ stuff, and Margo had done the same with their boombox and microphones. She grabbed the two set-aside pizza boxes, handing them over to the theater club members along with heaps of gratitude for their presence. They happily accepted both before waving to all of them as they left. As soon as they did, the pair of former hosts turned to the interesting little hug-fight their four friends had gotten into.

“Guys!” Margo called, managing to get their attention. “You were all fantastic out there! Miles, they loved you! Hell, we loved you!” She stepped forward, and Hobie let Miles go so she could grab onto his hands excitedly as she spoke. “I wasn’t even kidding, Ganke, where on Earth were you hiding this one?!”

Ganke shrugged, crossing his arms. “What can I say? I like to have an ace or two up my sleeve.” He said with a smirk. “It has been a while since I’ve seen you go all out like that though, hasn’t it?”

Miles grinned a bit proudly. “You know I like to make a good first impression.”

“I have literally never heard that about you, but go off, I guess.”

Miles pouted a bit as the others laughed.

Within minutes, they were all around the circular table, plates piled with pizza slices and cracking soda cans. Miles leaned on his hand to look Ganke in the eye.

“So, how long has this been going on anyway?” He asked, just a bit incredulously. “You never mentioned it while I was gone.”

Ganke nearly glared at him halfway through a bite of pizza. “I told you I made some new friends after you left! And I definitely remember telling you I joined a club.”

“Yeah, and I thought you meant a robotics club or something, not, like, tickle tournaments! You didn’t think I’d be interested in that part?”

Ganke chuckled. “It’s not that I didn’t think you'd be interested.” He set down the slice and leveled a sneer at him. “I just know you get weak around too many cute people.”

Miles nearly choked on the sip of water he’d taken, and he could feel eyes on him as the table got quiet. They were all smiling, some more smugly than others, and Miles buried his face in his hands.

“Asshole…” He groaned, only to flinch a little when Gwen poked his cheek. He glanced at her, and she giggled, and Hobie smirked, and Pavitr grinned.

“Especially cute lees~” Ganke whispered, blowing across the side of his neck, and he barely stopped himself from jumping out of the chair. The others stifled laughter as Miles felt like he was going to melt from the heat rushing to his face, which he promptly dropped into his arms on the table.

“You’re all rosy, mate.” Yeah, like Hobie really needed to tell him that.

He recognized Ganke’s hand patting him on the back. “Sooo~?”

“’M free on Friday…?” He offered.

“We’ve got an Initiation Day!” Ganke shook him by the shoulder as the whole table cheered, and Miles felt himself smiling as hands ruffled his hair and pat his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Panda's Extra Notes: Some minor things for consideration.

*I might go back and retcon it, but I'm considering using one of Hobie's beta designs for this AU. Specifically the one with his long braids.

*Miles falls under the Ace umbrella here, hence the joke Ganke makes toward the end. He is very vulnerable to "tickle-crushes", though. And actual crushes, obviously, but we'll get to that later. >w<

[heymickyursofine]

request where Benny Weir takes care of the reader being sick

Sick feeling. Benny Weir X GN!Reader

Summary: When you suddenly fall ill, your boyfriend comes to the rescue.

Warnings: Being sick, think that’s it!

“Y/N!” Benny yells your name as he comes into your house, closing the door behind him.

You groan at how loud his tone is, making your ears hurt. He walks into the living room clearly not expecting you to be sitting in there.

“Oh, hey, thought you’d be in your room.” You barely shake your head at him but he still notices the movement and he takes in your appearance.

Hair messy, clad in sweats and a sweatshirt with fuzzy socks, with a pillow under your head and wrapped up in a blanket. “You look horrible.” “Wow. You say such pretty things, thanks.” You know he didn’t mean it in the way he said it, but you still decide to tease him.

He frowns at how raspy your voice sounds and is reminded of the things he’s picked up at the grocery store. “I got you stuff.” He holds the bag up in a gesture.

If you didn’t feel like death you would have had the biggest smile on your face, knowing that he cares about you enough to risk getting sick. You instead give him a thumbs up and he walks over to the kitchen behind you and places the bag on the island.

“I brought your favorite tea, some nausea medicine, and candy.” Your attention is torn away from the movie playing on the tv at the mention of candy.

“What kind of candy?”

“Only your favorite of course. I’m going to start the tea.”

You unwrap yourself from your blanket cocoon and slowly walk over to the kitchen. Benny washes his hands to prep your tea and you see all of the things he’s purchased on the table, you pick up the candy he’s bought you and sit down on the barstool.

The sink turns off, he dries his hands, and turns around when he jumps slightly as he didn’t hear you take a seat. You had already opened the candy and were finishing chewing a piece when he walks over to you, standing in front of you, “why aren’t you lying down?”

“You brought candy.” You shrug slightly.

“I could’ve brought it to you.”

“I wanted to be close to you.”

He takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your shoulder with his hand on the back of your head, resting on his chest. “You shouldn’t be touching me. You could get sick.”

“I’d risk getting sick anytime for you.” Your heart swells with love at his words, a simple sentence yet it makes you feel loved. You put the candy down and embrace him back, closing your eyes as he shares his warmth with you.

“Should you be eating the candy with your upset stomach?” “It doesn’t hurt right now.” His other hand starts to rub up and down your back as no words are said between the two of you, the only sound being the television.

“I love you. So much.” He could’ve gotten emotional right then and there but holds it together, he’s never felt so loved by anyone but you before, and to hear you say those three words means more to him than you’ll ever know.

“I love you too.” He moves both of his hands to cup your face and places a kiss on your nose. Your face heats up, and not because of the sickness. He moves to grab a pot from the cupboard to fill it with water and place it on the burner.

A few minutes later and the water is heated up, he grabs a mug and fills the water in it, adds the tea bag and goes to place it on the coffee table by the couch. He comes back and extends his hand for you to grab, “come on, let’s go to the couch.” You grab his hand and follow him to the couch, hands still interlocked.

He lets go when you reach the couch and you get into a comfortable position, letting him place the blanket over your body. He takes a seat next to you, placing your legs over his lap with his arms resting over them.

You grab the remote to change it to a movie you both like, and as the movie plays, Benny finds himself slouching further into the cushion and your eyes get heavier.

The warmth of the blanket and your sweatshirt gives you the perfect amount of warmth to fall asleep, and before you know it you and Benny are both fast asleep, the movie in the background lulling on as no one pays attention to it.

—

Words from Micky - Thank you so much for this request! Love that you sent in something for Benny, my childhood crush for real. Hope this is what you had in mind! I’m very excited to start writing and get more requests.

FOLLOW MY WATTPAD: controversiallyoungf

[not-alien-girl-v]

Ross fluff please!

Kiss Me Kiss Me (Ross Macdonald)

note: cuz i don’t knoooow if i can let you gooooo. short fluff also idrk where i was going with this but i just started my period and was like wow i bet ross would be a great boyfriend and then i pumped out this

1.5k

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

something’s been off all day. it was unclear at first, but throughout the course of the day, you analyzed the clues.

you knew it was odd how irrationally angry you got at your roommate, violet, for asking if you knew where her shoes went. you don’t even share the same shoe size, it seemed like such an obvious answer, yet you still snapped at her far too quickly.

then later, when you were cleaning up some clothes from your bedroom, you were hit with an awful cramp in your lower stomach. these things, when put together could only mean one thing, but you chose to ignore the signs until you bled through your favorite underwear.

they were lace, white, expensive, but most importantly, they were from ross on valentine’s day. you planned on inviting him over tonight to have a little fun while violet went out to the club but nature had other plans for you.

you were so upset about it that you forgot to talk to him all day.

violet’s plans got cancelled tonight, so she proposed a small movie night in, starting with the first scream movie and working your way forward.

the two of you are bundled up together on the couch, under various blankets, caged in by dozens of throw pillows and a big bowl of popcorn you’re passing around.

the movie comes to a rather suspenseful moment, and she starts yelling at the tv for the girl on the screen to not open that door, though it’s obvious she will anyway because she’s stupid. suddenly, the front door of your own apartment swings open, revealing a tall, shadowy figure standing menacingly in the doorway.

you scream in unison with her.

the figure quickly reaches to flick the living room light on, and once your eyes adjust to the blinding light, your fear is subsided as you realize it’s just ross.

violet breaks out into laughter. “jesus, you scared the shit out of us,” you say as you stand to approach him. you pull him into the kitchen to talk while your friend press play on the movie, quickly forgetting his presence.

you lead him to lean against the counter as you trap him in with your arms resting next to either side of his hips on the counter.

“hi, darling,” he says sweetly, his head tilted down to look at you due to the height difference. being so close to him and how good he smells leaves you temporarily without words, so instead, you work your arms underneath his to wrap around him tightly, smushing your head into his chest.

he doesn’t let you indulge in is quite yet, placing his large hands onto your shoulders, pulling you away to hold you at arms length.

“what happened to you today, hmm? didn’t answer my calls, my texts, you worried me, hun.” his tone is so ridiculously sweet and lovey it’s almost shocking.

“i’m sorry,” you don’t know why tears begin to brim in your eyes, it’s just that he’s being so gentle with you, it makes your heart ache a bit.

“hey, hey, don’t cry, i’m not upset with you, i’m just worried. a little more now, since i made you cry. sorry for doing that, by the way.” he’s holding your face tenderly between both hands, and with his thumb, he wipes away the first tear that falls from your eye.

he hums, “i think i know what’s up with you, and if i’m wrong then you can totally beat me up, but is it your period?”

you laugh through a few stray tears and lead forward to hide in his chest, still feeling overwhelmed at the way he’s looking at you. “you know me too well, macdonald.”

his right hand strokes the back of your head a few times, holding you in place close to him like you’re going to slip away. “what can i do for you, baby?”

you pull back enough to look him in the eye. “ugh, i don’t know. i’ve felt so icky and gross all day. i was gonna invite you over tonight and i was wearing the underwear you got me for valentine’s day but i bled through it and it made me so sad i just gave up, i guess.”

he rubs up and down on your back. he glances past you for a moment, then looks back at your waiting face. “you hungry?”

you nod, excited at where his words could be leading.

“you want me to make you dinner?”

you almost interrupt him with your ecstatic ‘yes.’

he detaches from you, making his way over to the fridge to pull out some ingredients then gets cooking. he turns the burner on on the stove and glances over his shoulder at you. "ask her if she wants any, yeah?"

apparently he didn't see you staring at him like a piece of meat from behind so you leave him there, trying to erase the thoughts from your brain for as long as you can't indulge in them.

poking your head into the living room, "you want dinner? ross is cooking."

"damn, girl, how hard did you have to suck his dick for that?" you roll your eyes at her crassness.

"he's asked to do it, i don't force him."

"you're so lucky. you got this hot guy who comes over whenever and cooks for free and you don't even have to fuck him for it. any way you could talk him into doing laundry? picking up around the house?"

you laugh at her, coming to perch yourself on the arm of the couch. "hey, don't be like that, i'm sure any day now some nice guy will come along and be right for you."

"maybe you're right. does your boy got any hot friends?"

you're about to answer when you realize he's only a room away, so you lean in, dropping your voice, "oh absolutely, they're all, like, stupid hot."

"heard that!" ross calls from over the stove. mission failed.

"you're the hottest, babe, promise! love you!"

"love you too," you almost wouldn't hear him due to the sizzling of the pan in front of him.

"see? that's what i need, right there. i'm kind of tired of just casual sex all the time, i want to care about someone, be cared about and whatever."

"i can try to set something up with one of his friends next time i'm over at his place. gotta warn you, though, they're all pretty stupid."

"they can't be that bad."

"no, i'm so serious. i once witnessed them get in a multiday tearful argument about the length of shorts they're allowing each other to wear around the house. i actually thought one of them might move out because of it."

"did he?"

"course not, they all have too deep of a bromance to leave each other like that."

ross enters the room, standing right behind you and wrapping a leisurely arm around the front of your shoulders. "so, is that a no on the dinner, violet?"

"eh, i'm alright. i'm too lovesick for dinner." she falls dramatically on the couch.

"it's not that awful is it? it wasn't too hard for us in the beginning, right babe?" you strain your neck to look up at him over your shoulder and give his arm around your shoulders a loving squeeze.

"maybe not for you. i had it pretty hard, though."

"what are you talking about?"

"i was so nervous when we first started dating. scared i was going to fuck it up, scare you away. that's also why i waited so long to let you meet my mates. thought for sure that would be the end of you and i."

"wow. i don't know why you were so worried, everything turned out fine in the end. i mean, look at us now. we made it through the hard parts, right?"

"right. and i'm glad. i'm so in love with you, darling."

violet sighs, "are you guys done being all lovey with each other? i wanna watch the rest of this movie."

he raises his hands in surrender, nudging you with his knee to make space for him to sit next to you on the couch. he plops down with a heavy sigh, "dinner's on the stove, go get some, my love." he whispers it into your ear, but you just shake your head, leaning into his warm body.

you relax into his arms, which he reluctantly wraps around you, puzzled at why you aren't sprinting for the food he made for you. one of his legs is against your back resting beside the back cushion on the couch and you snuggle up to place your head on his chest, to which he immediately digs a soft hand into your hair, idly pulling and twisting at the strands.

every now and then, you flinch at a jump scare on the screen, and each time he retaliates with a deep chuckle which reverberates in his chest, causing you to feel it in your head, and he places a sweet kiss atop your hair.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @milkluvr8 @americanangel

[buckyarchives]

we’re not really strangers | S. Stan [1.]

summary: a broken and washed up writer keeps showing up in Sebastian life as he struggles with his own loneliness. two people in two different world, but the tug is so intense it begins to eat Sebastian raw. he has to learn to love full heartedly and you need to learn to trust again after you got cheated out of your entire life.

word count : 4.9k

warnings: topics of depression, brief mentions of sewerslide, body dysmorphia

author note: i’ve never wrote an rpf and i used to dislike them but i just read a really good one and i watched doll eyes so that started this. i’m basing sebastian’s character based off of psychoanalysis him over that past 4 years (i can’t help it i’m sorry) and the couple of times i’ve met him. but i hope he’s not this depressed irl. take a place a before fresh and it’s mostly his pov. will probably be like 3-5 chapters. also wrote this in like 2 hours please be kind

masterlist | read on AO3

Sebastian stan likes blondes, he likes coffee after noon, working out, his mom, space and all its possibilities. He likes European countries yet he won't leave New York no matter how hard he thinks about it. He loves his family and friends. He likes when people tell him good job and are nice to him; even if it’s only because he's Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes he wonders if he really likes that last one or if he hates it, it depends on the day.

He will spend his days reading and talking with actors or directors, getting flowers for his girlfriend of the season. He doesn't read reviews about his movies. He’ll talk to his mom on the phone as often as he can, he works out almost every morning but he hates running. He stands in front of a mirror before going to bed, alone and vulnerable, picking apart everything he sees and wonders if everyone else sees it too. Probably.

But not tonight.

No, tonight he feels good - better. Recently casted for a new movie, a movie with a script and a director he feels confident about, which is always the best feeling. Last year was good for him, but this year needs to be better. Sebastian is tired and needs to get away from commercial movies and Marvel, but Bucky Barnes will always haunt over his shoulders like the way Carter Baizen did for so long.

And tonight is only the beginning. They haven't started filming yet, not close. Daisy is in the middle of filming and it's still early, too much workshopping and bonding as a team before that. Sebastian likes to know who he's working with, the director and their work ethic and past projects. The co-stars and their humor and if they can cry on command or not.

Mimi is a nice director. She's new and has fresh ideas - ha, that's a pun. She makes Sebastian laugh and not feel like a character even off-screen. Sebastian likes her curly hair.

She laughs and the air is cool, Sebastian can see her breath. “It was a nice day, I'm really looking forward to working with you.”

Sebastian is lonely and this feel like a nice way to segway to ‘i have to leave, goodnight.’

“Me too, and the script is just - wow.” Sebastian exaggerates his words to match his feelings, “it's deep.”

He wants to hold onto the conversation forever and drag it out until it's so awkward he has to grit his teeth. Sebastian doesn't want to go home now - but it's late, past midnight - and despite the rumors, New York does have to sleep sometimes. His stomach grumbles and he suddenly has the appetite of a teengers first hangover.

Mimi nods and thanks him and they continue to walk. Sebastian speaks up, “is it weird to say iI'mhungry and not tired.” he looks down at his watch again, it's almost 2 am.

And Mimi understands, she smiles. “Not weird, I agree. It might be the excitement for this project but – what are you hungry for?”

“Coffee, breakfast food,” Sebastian replies honestly.

The director smiles, Sebastian hopes there are no paparazzi - this looks like a date - no, it doesn’t but the press latch onto any woman he's seen with as a date.

“I know a perfect place, and it is empty,” she says. Sebastian is suspicious - it's late, he repeats in his head.

“This late?” his eyebrows quirked up.

“I know the owner,” she affirms. Sebastian nodded and they continued walking.

Mimi talks about the movie more, how she's close friends with the writer and coincidentally, she met her through the owner of the said cafe they'd soon find a safe haven in. Sebastian nods along to her words and listens, he hates the sound of his own voice sometimes. Listening is nice.

They reach a cafe-deli type. The sign says it is closed and no one is inside but the lights are on. Mimi had a grin on her face as she knocks on the door. Sebastian watched as you came from the back and unlocked the door, Mimi smiles and greets you excitedly but your face remains monotone - almost cold. Mimi takes no offense, this must be how you always are.

You don't take immediate notice of Sebastian, which is nice for once. Mimi talks about how starved she is and desperately needs an egg sandwich from you, Sebastian agrees in his head. You hold your head high and strong like you know better, but not in a snobby way. Sebastian can tell when someone is snobby pretty soon on, people like that end up surrounding him more often than not, unfortunately.

Sebastian's eyes are an icy blue that reminds you of the winter lakes back in the midwest. That’s the first thing you notice, Mimi acts like this is her home as she plops down at the bar. You still don't say anything. Sebastian wonders if you're a writer too, or maybe an actor. He doesn’t recognize you. Sebastian sits next to mimi, he feels weirdly comfortable despite how cold and empty the cafe is.

The sound of an espresso machine starts before Mimi can even order sometimes, she must go a lot and then a coffee is in front of her in no time. You finally turn to him, you're wearing lipgloss, and he notices way too quickly.

“Would you like a coffee, Sebastian?” you ask him plainly. He didn't tell you his name, neither did Mimi. You must know him then, it wouldn't be surprising but weirdly it did.

“Yeah, anything you have. And eggs - sunny side up if you can.” you don’t reply, nodding and your mouth is thin-lipped. Not a smile nor a frown. You leave in the back, Sebastian doesn’t realize his eyebrows were furrowed until Mimi says something.

“Don't worry, she's always like that. I promise she's not miserable or mean.” mimi says, gesturing to the cold demeanor that you carry. Sebastian wonders if Mimi has to explain this to everyone, or if you hate the Captain America movies and mimi just want to make it less awkward.

It's a comfortable silence for a while, aside from the city whispering from behind the glass windows and the sound of your cooking. Sebastian catches glimpses of your face and he can't help but think you're beautiful in a stone-cold, greek statue, model type way. He can imagine seeing your face in a famous painting from the renaissance time.

Maybe you caught him staring, or maybe it was just the cold demeanor again but he swore you glared at him.

“Cooks out - so it might not be as good as usual,” you say and place the food in front of them. Mimi grins and begins to eat. Sebastian pulls out his billfold to pay, he doesn't know you and feels a twang of guilt at the thought of keeping you up past closing time. He wants to pay extra.

You notice him before he can pull out any money, “it's on the house.”

Sebastian thinks of that as a sign that you don't hate him, and you're just monotone.

“Y/N helped Lauryn write the movie, specifically your character too.” Mimimumbled through cheese and bacon.

That’s the first time he's heard your name, Sebastian repeats it in his head so as to not forget.

You scoff and Sebastian thinks for a moment you're mad, you're not. “Helped? I practically gave her the entire idea. And I swear, Mimi if you don't use La jardin for the dance scene, I'll riot in front of your house.”

“You get so defensive every time, but whenever we ask to add you as co writers you say no.” Mimi snarks, shaking her head and smiling. “Mysterious, mysterious girl.”

“Can't say I imagined Sebastian Stan as Steve though, I was thinking more of Chris Pine.” you joke, Mimi knows you're joking but your flat tone makes Sebastian second guess if you are actually upset about it or not. “was he busy?”

Mimi laughs, good - a joke.

“Not even a second choice?” Sebastian smiles sheepishly, he hopes you were joking.

Sebastian thinks you're going to smile, and your lip twitches. You hum and it sounds as smooth as the coffee tastes, like honey. “Maybe third.”

Your eyes warm in his direction, the feeling in his chest is foreign.

“You’re a better critic than you are a casting director.” Mimi jokes again. Sebastian wonders how long you've been friends.

“a critic?” Sebastian perks up, critics are his worst enemy in life. No matter how much he can ignore them, one well-written article can make or break an entire year for him.

“Not actually, I just watch a lot of movies and have strong opinions.” your eyes land back on him.

“Harsh. Harsh opinions.” Mimi makes a point, and you roll your eyes and almost smile again. Almost. Sebastian wants to see you smile, what a weird thought for a stranger he’s only known for 20 minutes. You do make good eggs, but how do you fuck up eggs?

“Anything you recognize me from?'' Sebastian slaps on a cheeky smile, and maybe it's arrogant to think he knows the answer to that. But he is Sebastian Stan and you watch a lot of movies. You open your mouth to speak but Mimi interrupts again, not in an annoying way.

“Don't bruise his ego,” she warns.

How harsh could you be? Sebastian starts to regret asking about himself.

“Anyways, how could I not? I vividly remember seeing the covenant play in the hospital when my baby sister was born; a weird choice for hospital cinema.”

Sebastian's glad you don't mention Marvel or gossip girl, the covenant isn't any much better either though.

“That is very weird. Any critics?” Sebastian doesn't even know why he asked tt, he's going to regret it.

Mimi whispers an ‘oh boy’ under her breath and Sebastian feels like he needs to buckle down and brace himself. Even worse as your eyes scan him, judging him.

“I'm not here was your worst movie and you need to fire your agents or whoever told you that was a good idea.”

Oh?

“I thought it was a good script.”

You look at him as if he had three heads. Mimi looks scared.

“I can see the vision but the story tries too hard to be deep and pretentious - it settles on just being a cry fest and it doesn't even do that well. The main character is just a shitty person with a shitty life and the writing fails to make me feel bad for him, no matter how good you or J.K Simmons's acting was”

Sebastian hangs onto the small compliment hidden in there by his fingernails. You're not done yet.

“I, Tonya was really good. Marvel is… Marvel, same thing for gossip girl. The rest of your characters have been the same angry or toxic men trope over and over again, no offense, you need more range.”

That hurt a lot less than Sebastian expected. He feels speechless, mimi is still eating and is silent. Sebastian isn't hungry anymore and your cold eyes are stripping him down naked. He still thinks you're beautiful.

“Do you like anything I've been in?” why does he keep asking questions he knows he won't like?

You think for a moment, look him dead in the eye, and smile. And even if it's meant to be snarky or sarcastic, Sebastian thinks it's beautiful and warm. Warmer than the coffee in his hands. It reaches your eyes and crinkles at the end and he knows it's genuine, it utterly stuns him and he almost thinks he missed your response.

“Once upon a time.”

Sebastian can’t help but smile at that, “give me one complaint so you don't send me home with a broken heart.” he bargains, half joking with small doubt it won't be back handed.

“I have controversial opinions on superhero movies and the people that play them, but you portray Bucky Barnes really well.'' You say quietly like you're scared of being nice, Sebastian takes it and he doesn't notice he's grinning with a light in his eyes. You don't either, mimi does - she is already texting Lauryn about it.

“I don't like to comment on people's acting abilities because I'm not an actor, but I can tell when someone is good or bad.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you. “You sure do comment on people's writing and directing though, you're a writer?”

Your eyes are cold again and your back straightens, even Mimi tenses and Sebastian wonders if he said something wrong. He gets no reply from you, and Sebastian sees a mask fall from your face - one he didn't notice you were wearing until now.

“No, I'm not.” your voice is monotone again. When did it have feelings? Sebastian doesn't remember when you started to sound humane and passionate, he said something wrong.

Mimi rushes the rest of her food in her mouth and reads the room as you retreat behind to the kitchen again, so quickly and quietly Sebastian almost doesn't notice.

“It's now late-late, I'm heading home.” Mimi sighs, heavily implying he needs to leave too. Sebastian agrees.

He glances back at you once more when Mimi yells goodbye, you don't look at Sebastian.

\

Sebastian prepares for the movie, he doesn’t think about you or the cafe for two weeks. He goes on a date and he doesn’t call her back.

his house is suffocating, it’s too big for him and he knows it. women and friends stay over but it feels empty. He needs air - paparazzi - he groans. suck it up, Sebastian. put on a coat and find a place to eat, he chooses a blue sweatshirt and sunglasses.

Every time he goes out he thinks maybe no one will recognize him. He's always wrong. He should know better.

aimlessly he walks. Sebastian knows the streets of New York like the back of his hand. He feels lost despite the fact he’s walked down this street many times, so much changed anyways.

Jones' place.

he remembers the place from a few weeks ago, remembers you and your cold face. Sebastian remembers you smiling and him feeling giddy about it, but now he can’t imagine it in his head. Sebastian had said something wrong, he remembers that. He wishes he got your number.

you knew him and you didn’t dance around him like a celebrity - when did the person get erased and celebrity scribbled in its place? you were normal and not on vogue or GQ and you talked to him like he wasn’t either.

in a daze, he walks in and sits down. it’s open this time, and a group of teenagers sits at a booth in the corner. an elderly man sits alone at a table, Sebastian wonders if he’s married, and if she passed and that’s where they used to sit together. maybe you’d know.

but he doesn’t see you at first. tapping his finger on the bar - you appear and you don’t look at him, don’t notice him. walking straight past him and giving a chocolate croissant to the elderly man, maybe you did see him and are just insanely good at covering it up, you don’t smile at the man but your features lighten.

you turn back around and your eyes hit Sebastian dead center like you knew he was there because Sebastian was right.

“same as last time?” you ask, of course you’d remember his order. it was simple and that was your job.

Sebastian nods, “no egg, just coffee.”

“It's not on the house this time!” you yell as you disappear into the back.

Sebastian smiles for some reason.

\

Daisy Edgar-Jones' accent makes Sebastian feel weirdly at home despite the fact he’s not from England and has never found any sense of comfort there.

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek as he listens to Mimi speak about the movie, he dozed off, to be honest. the writers and producer speak over each other in the zoom call. Daisy is still in England and they start filming in two weeks. Sebastian is excited - the type of excitement that you mix with anxiety because it also makes you want to throw up.

Your name is mentioned briefly and Sebastian is paying attention now. Lauryn dances around the fact you practically wrote the whole script - why don’t you take credit? Lauryn is an extroverted woman who smiles a lot and tries to make everyone as comfortable as possible, the same with Mimi.

It makes no sense. Why are you so distant and monotone?

Sebastian opens Instagram for the first time in a week. He realized recently most social media was bullshit, he was turning 40 this year, and there are more important things to focus on.

search history.

(imsebastianstan) y/n l/n writer

(imsebastianstan) y/n l/n

(imsebastianstan) sundance film fest

(imsebastianstan) daisyedgarjones

(imsebastianstan) mjonf

/

Sebastian has been acting since a kid, he took a break between then and his first real job but he's been surrounded by film and cameras most of his life. Being in front of a camera should come naturally to him. Maybe it's just a mid-life crisis thing but he feels like he wants to throw up.

Coming back from some stupid junket, he doesn't remember when the feeling of needing to hurl settled in his stomach but even hours after, it hasn't left. Sebastian wonders how many people know that he paces in his room before filming, he'll anxiously bite on his nails and look in the mirror and wonder if he should have skipped that meal earlier.

Home feels foreign now. He misses his mom and he can't seem to find time to go see her. His stomach feels empty - it is empty. He's only had a salad today.

Sebastian wants to flee, where it's private and warm. His steps carried him through the city, maybe he should call that girl back? He doesn't want to be lonely tonight.

Suddenly, he feels the presence of cameras snapping pictures of his panic attacks across the street. It's like a sixth sense now, he hates it. Sometimes when his day will blur and depression hits, he'll see the photos of himself later not recognize the person on his phone. Or he'll just hate what he sees.

He doesn’t want to have to do that routine again tomorrow morning.

Then he remembers you, remembers the street he's on. and then before he can realize his breath is already suffocating him and your cafe is in front of him. It's closed but the lights are on - why is he here? Why is he knocking on the door?

Your face is concerned when you open it, Sebastian's chest feels heavy, can you tell? You must have, you must be familiar with the look of despair, panic, and the intense feelings of doom, because you let him in with no word.

Sebastian's staring again as you make him the same coffees he's ordered twice now. You're nice but guarded, Sebastian wonders if you'll ever let it down. Because he is now. Your hair is tied up and your full face is in view, no muscles move and you look just as monotone and bored as before. You look like statues, beautiful statues. Like your cheekbones and exposed collarbone were sculpted with stone or clay. Your lips are plump, you're not smiling - not frowning. You remind him of the Mona Lisa.

Embarrassment washed over him when he jolted like a paranoid creep as you set his coffee down. Sebastian mumbled a sorry under his breath and you don't say anything still, why haven't you said anything?

A laptop and cup of tea are set in front of the seat next to him, a google doc is open and he sees a script. He’ll feel guilty about it later but his neck cranes to see what is written. Sebastian barely reads a line before the laptop closes with a slam, you're looking at him with a glare, and he flinches again.

“You're nosy.” you say, making your way to sitting next to him now, sipping on the tea and staring off into space.

“Thought you said you weren't a writer?” Sebastian feels like he's going into tricky territory, scratch that - he knows he is.

Mumbled through your lips, “I'm not.”

You sound haunted, Sebastian wants to know why.

Maybe he is nosy.

Sebastian needs to keep talking or else his anxiety will eat him raw, he’ll choke on his thoughts and die in the middle of your cafe. Then he'd feel really bad. At least he doesn't feel lonely, a ghost of a person sits next to him yet he feels more comfortable than in a room full of people. How odd.

“You're not going to ask why I knocked on your door at 11 pm? Or do you just let any stranger in at night?” he tries to joke, but it comes out half-hearted like most things.

“You looked like you were going to die, I'm not going to be responsible for Sebastian stan's death,” you say, scrolling through your phone. Twitter. “I'm sure some 16 year old would dox me or something.”

Sebastian laughs, slowly picking up on your dry humor, but he knows you're unfortunately right.

“How'd you meet Lauryn?” Sebastian asks, clawing at your guarded walls as he also tries to calm himself down. He doesn't even remember why he was panicking earlier.

“A film festival in Greece, 2009 - I think,” you answer honestly, sipping your coffee again. Sebastian notices the rings on your fingers.

Sebastian wants to ask how you got into films - he feels like that's the wrong thing to say again. He doesn't want you to drive him out again, hoping to get your number before he leaves.

The iPhone in his pocket dings, it's Ellie, his date from a few days ago. She's asking if he wants to come over with a winky face, that her bed feels cold and Sebastian wants to throw up again.

“Girlfriend?” you ask, side-eyeing his phone.

“No, I don't have time for that right now.” part lie, not his girlfriend but somehow he always finds time to date. Sometimes he hates himself for it because he always loves half heartedly. He never liked commitment anyways. “You?”

“No,” you say plainly. Changing the subject at an uncharacteristic rate, “why have you so shaken up at such a time?”

Sebastian wonders if he should lie and make up some stereotypical actor excuse, or just say he doesn't know. Avoid the topic that he’s spent the past 3 weeks with new people every day but he still feels lonely. That he wants to crumble in front of any camera. That he's tired of picking himself apart.

But you sit there so mysteriously and Sebastian wants to know you too. Maybe if he gets vulnerable you'd feel okay doing the same, he tries to avoid the thought of expecting that from you, because he shouldn't. This will be an olive branch.

“I feel lonely.” he starts. “I don’t want to be home right now, so I went for a walk, and then the paps -“

he cuts himself off before he turns into word vomit. you're sitting next to him, not looking at his face. Sebastian wants you to look at him.

“you live in the city?”

“Rockland county.”

you hum, “far way to go for a walk.”

“I know.”

a moment of silence, Sebastian wants to cry for some reason. “Are you going to that girl's house?”

Sebastian's eyebrows furrow for a second, you're referring to the text. you were just as nosy as him it seems. and maybe he could go to her house, either it would destroy him or he’d feel a little better. she’d probably ask him about the new movie, flirt, and have sex, she’d talk to him like a character and he’d go home. He doesn't want to go home.

“no.” Sebastian almost whispers, “I'm not sure where I'm going.”

he was so lost, it’s pathetic.

you look at him for once you don’t look frozen. Sebastian wants to know what’s going on behind your eyes. you’re thinking, that’s obvious enough. eyes scanning him up and down he feels vulnerable. it’s unfair how much he doesn't know about you.

“I have a spare room if you're desperate.” you offer. an olive branch. Sebastian feels like choking.

He also feels guilty, because he doesn't know you and you’ve already made him coffee for free when you didn’t need to. “no, you don’t have-“

“You feel so small and tiny in a big house like that, it’s like living with a ghost when you are lonely, right? it feels taunting, even." You speak honestly, speaking from experience, you’ve been where Sebastian has. He still feels like crying but now he understands, the loneliness slowly drains from his body without realizing it.

“okay.” he whispers, almost scared to accept.

this is you being vulnerable, he soon realizes as you tell him you’ll finish closing up - living only across the alleyway in the back. you're being vulnerable by sharing a space, we’re he’ll see you raw and open.

and he saw it. old coffee mugs and everywhere the matching stains in the wood. a sweatshirt is thrown over your couch. a record playing with 80s goth music. bright orange bottles of pills. Banksy prints are nailed on the wall. books on screenwriting stacked on the coffee table. a cut-off and discarded hospital bracelet on the counter.

Sebastian asks about the vinyl, but he doesn’t bring up the empty Xanax bottles or the bracelet. you're glad.

The apartment is small and he feels warm. it’s foreign and strange - but it’s the most comfortable he’s felt in at least a week. you show him the extra bedroom, the beds made and it's mostly empty. a side table with a lamb and a wall full of shelves. books and movie scripts fill it, he sees an oscar award hidden and dusty behind a copy of pride and prejudice.

the front room is filled with warm lights, it’s settled the fog in his brain and he feels better You're sitting on a green couch that you found on the Facebook market place and he thinks you’re beautiful. Sebastian sits next to you and understanding is shared between you two, what it is? he’s not sure. but he feels safe and understood and he doesn’t want to leave.

Sebastian is not tired and neither are you, your leaning intoSebastian'sn touch and he doesn’t question why.

“thank you.” is all he can think to say.

“don’t, not yet.” you sound tortured and Sebastian can’t stop the word from leaving his mouth. he just has to know.

“what broke you?”

too much. everything. nothing at all. a man. my talent and my desire to be my loved, you think. a shaky exhale leaves your mouth and Sebastian thinks he carry your sorrows if you’d just smile at him again.

“I don’t know.” you settle on and Sebastian understands.

Sebastian's hand grazed above your arm, you don’t flinch out of his touch. your warm and soft and he melts. he wants to ask you why you have an Oscar, if it’s yours and why you were at the hospital 2 days ago and why you're chasing him with a stone-cold face

the extra bedroom goes unused and his limbs are warm and feel perfect against yours. the warm lights lull him to sleep, your breath is steady and Sebastian realized you smile in your sleep and he hopes it’s because he’s caressed your back as you dazed off. Sebastian wraps a blanket around the two of you.

now don’t get anything incorrect. Sebastian stan doesn’t believe in love at first sight, sometimes he wonders if he even believes in love at all because sometimes it feels impossible to love. his mother and father taught him commitments are lies and his partners convinced him of that. he loves his friends - he thinks - but they always come and go. they never knew him anyways.

but as the sun hits his face and he feels the blanket around him on your couch. Faye Webster is spinning on the record playing softly and you’re swaying your hips in the kitchen. you don’t realize he’s awake and your mask falls down. your cooking something and humming along, a thin-lipped smile on your face.

Sebastian doesn’t know you but at this moment he does. he feels normal and like he’s known you his entire life. it’s scary and he feels oncoming doom but he lets himself be and watches.

you seemed more alive this morning as you gave him toast. he didn’t ask for it but it was the best toast he has had in a while. Sebastian asks if you slept on the couch all night, you smiled and he almost dropped dead. no reply but that was enough. he danced with you in the kitchen, it was weird and domestic and Sebastian is looking at you like he’s in love.

but he’s not. and neither are you. The fog settles and you say goodbye and open the shop. Sebastian goes home and he never got your number.

and he has to leave tomorrow for Canada and go back to his life.

Sebastian doesn’t talk to you for another week.

[ashtheketchum]

Hi :]

Can you write a rise Leo x a reader that has trouble sometimes speaking English because their main language is Spanish?

ROTTMNT Leo X Spanish GN.Reader

A/N: My first real request! Wow, I'm so happy! :D I like the idea, so let's do it! Have fun reading! (Picture from Pinterest!)

Summary: April brings an internet friend from Spain to the boys. April's friend has come to New York for vacation and is looking forward to meeting the four turtles. However, since the reader barely speaks English, Leo makes a few jokes.

Warnings: GN.Reader, oneshot, Leo is an idiot, Reader is from Spain (no appearance specified though!)

,,..." = Someone speaks spanish

____________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

I had finally arrived in New York and I was very happy. April, my internet friend, invited me to meet her friends and of course I immediately accepted her offer. We met on Instagram and have written every day since then. I also already knew April's “special” friends, the turtles. Raph, Leo, Donnie and Mikey. Although I only saw them briefly and introduced myself to them briefly, they were also happy to get to know me properly.

However, while I was writing to April, I always used a translator because my English was terrible. I only knew a few words, which usually got me through school, but New York was a whole other level. ´Hello´, ´Bye´ and ´How are you´ wouldn't be enough, I already knew that. So April helped me a bit with my pronunciation and vocabulary. We spoke on the phone every evening and she taught me important vocabulary, which I learned and then used. Even on my plane to New York, I learned every word again until I could only think about that language.

When I arrived at the airport, I saw April swaying towards me. Smiling, I walked towards her with my bags in my arms. "Hey, (Y/N)! I’m glad you’re here!” She greeted me and hugged me tightly. I laughed and hugged her back before looking at her beaming. "I'm happy too! This is something different from my home.” I would live with April for a full week before setting out to fly back. I was allowed to sleep with her for as long as I could.

"We're going to the boys' tomorrow, today we'll just unpack your stuff!" April said, giving a thumbs up. I also gave a thumbs up and grinned wider. ,, Yes!"

At April's house I unloaded my bags and we got the couch ready for me. I would sleep on the couch that April specially laid out. While we were putting my clothes in her closet, we ordered something to eat and watched a movie. We also watched it in English, so I might learn new words.

<Time Skip>

The next day April and I set off to see the turtles. Before that, April called the boys to let them know while I was still getting ready in the bathroom. When the call ended, however, April sighed loudly. ,, Everything okay?" I asked, with a worried look. ,, Yes! Yes, yes, everything is great!” But then she said, with a strained smile. I looked at her suspiciously for a moment before continuing to brush my teeth.

On the way there, we were quiet and we listened to the traffic. There was a lot going on, just like on many other days. But suddenly April spoke up, with a nervous grin. "Listen… if Leo seems weird, just ignore him, okay?" She said suddenly. I looked at her in shock before raising an eyebrow in confusion. April hadn't told me much about the turtles, just their names and their corresponding colors. And hearing something like that directly from one of them worried me a bit. “How exactly… do you mean that…?” April scratched the back of her head before answering. "You'll see that… just ignore him or speak in Spanish to confuse him."

Her answer didn't really cheer me up, but at least it was something. But then I nodded humming and prepared myself for this Leo.

In the cave, it didn't actually look like we were in the sewers. A huge main hall connected to many small rooms. It actually looked really cool. April showed me around here a bit before we arrived at a smaller, darker room. In the middle of the room was a brown armchair that was right in front of a screen. Around this chair stood four huge turtles, of different species. "Hey, guys! Look what I brought with me!” April shouted loudly.

The turtles turned their heads towards us and they smiled at me. Raph and Donnie smiled at me in welcome, Mikey more happily and Leo had that cheeky grin on him. Oh man, Leo. I didn't know him and I didn't want to anymore. "Hey, you must be (Y/N)!" Mikey then said and he pointed at me. ,, Yes that's me!" I then said proudly, as if I were a superstar.

"Cool, April told us a lot about you." Raph then said. April and I grinned widely at each other before both laughing quietly. But suddenly Leo pushed Raph and Mikey away and he bowed deeply to me. He took my hand in his and grinned cheekily at me. "Hello, new visitor. I’m Leo.” He said in Spanish. His accent was terrible and you could tell he had never spoken Spanish before. "Hello, Leo." I said simply, with a tight smile.

,, I'm pleased! That means you can understand us well, right?” He spoke too quickly so I couldn't understand him properly. I looked at him uncertainly as he then giggled. "Ohhh, I understand." He then giggled and wrapped his arm around my neck. "I'll show you around a bit! My house is also your house!” He just said laughing. April wanted to run after us, but Leo was already closing the door behind us.

Leo gave me a tour of their cave and he showed me the different rooms. During this time, however, he spoke so quickly that I couldn't understand him at all. It made me incredibly nervous, so I sometimes spoke in Spanish out of reflex. Whenever I did this, Leo would always laugh and squeeze in another line. "And here is my room! It’s actually the coolest thing based on the style, right?” Leo gave me a big grin while I just looked at him in awe. I didn't really feel uncomfortable, but I was incredibly nervous. "It looks very good, but everyone has their own taste." I murmured quietly, in Spanish.

,, Haha! I may know the basics, but I’m not that good, little one!” He then joked. However, all I understood was the nickname and that he wasn't good at something. Inwardly I tried to calm myself down and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry… I'm still learning…" I then murmured quietly, but this time in English. Leo chuckled again before wrapping his arm around my neck again. "You know I'm just teasing you, right?" He then asked, but this time he looked at me nicer.

Somehow I didn't know how to answer him. I had never thought that Leo would want to hurt me, but his jokes said something against it. Not that they hurt me, they were even amusing at times. "I… just don't understand English that well." I tried my best to get back into my rhythm, but Leo really had me out. "It's all good, little one."

Leo pulled away from me before handing me a small piece of paper. ,, This is my number. I'm sure we can talk more often when you're no longer here. But as long as you’re here, I really hope you come visit us every day.” He spoke so quickly again. I had trouble understanding him again, so I just stared at him silently. Leo gave me a wry smile before smiling lovingly at me. He repeated his words again, but more slowly and more clearly. It gave me some relief, so I nodded this time. "Y-yes, I'm coming to visit." I just said. Leo hummed happily for a moment before leading me back to the others.

April looked up at Leo completely distraught, but when she saw me smiling reassuringly at her, she relaxed again. Apparently she was worried, understandable. "Oh man, Leo… I hope you didn't do anything bad…" She just mumbled. "I would never!" He just laughed it off.

We spent the rest of the day with the brothers and their father. We chatted, but everyone made sure to speak slowly and clearly. Especially Leo. Sometimes he even translated what the others were saying. I was happy that they accepted me so much and that Leo stopped making jokes about me so often. Even though sometimes he wanted me to speak Spanish. "Leo, you are the weirdest idiot I have ever met." "Wow, what did you say!?" "That you're nice." He will never know.

That evening I saved Leo's number and April asked me what Leo had done after he kidnapped me. I explained to her that he had just shown me around again and talked to me. “You guys seem to like each other.” April suddenly said with a mischievous grin. My cheeks turned bright red and I stared at my phone screen. "Yeah, maybe… but he can really be an idiot…" I then said, with a small giggle. "Idiocy, cute turtle." I then mumbled quietly. "I understood that." April said suddenly, surprising me again.

Was there anything that April was not good in it?

[little-escapist]

Hiii :) 62. "Did we meet before?"

Hiii back :D And thanks for prompting! This one ran away from me a little bit, but I hope you like it!

Kurt is standing at the sidelines of the party, a glass of bubbly in his hand. Rachel disappeared somewhere in the crowd, but he’s content alone for a moment. It’s nice to breathe a little bit.

Until there’s a presence right next to him. A dark-haired guy, slightly shorter than Kurt, steps on his left and nods. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Kurt answers. “Nice party, isn’t it? The food was great.”

“It really was,” the man answers and offers Kurt his hand. “Blaine.”

“Kurt.” Kurt shakes the offered hand. The grip is nice and warm, and he wouldn’t mind holding on to that hand. The eyes that meet his are a beautiful golden brown surrounded by long, black lashes.

There’s no mistaking the once-over the guy is giving Kurt, his eyes flicking down Kurt’s fitted slacks and back up to his blue tie. “Did we meet before?”

Oh, how forward. Kurt quirks an eyebrow. Usually, he’s not into guys who come on so strong, but this Blaine is very nice to look at and he’s dressed like a movie star from an old Hollywood movie right down to the slicked-back hair. So, Blaine gets a heated once-over as well. His suit is black, very well fitted to his form, and he’s wearing a black velvet bow tie at his neck.

“No,” Kurt says. “I’m sure I’d remember you.”

“Strange,” Blaine says and leans in, so close that Kurt can feel his breath on his neck. “See, I was at the door, greeting everyone who was invited. So, I should have seen you before, and on top of that, I don’t remember a Kurt on the guest list.”

Kurt blinks and swallows. Holy shit. He shouldn’t have let Rachel talk him into crashing Cooper Anderson’s party. Now Kurt is the one being caught, while Rachel is somewhere out there having her fun. “I… uh.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees in a low voice, still speaking directly into Kurt’s ear and making goosebumps run down his neck. “Cooper Anderson is my brother, and I was the one helping him come up with the guest list. I was just wondering what you’re doing here and how you got in.”

Before Kurt can think of an explanation, the star of the party appears right in front of him, and all thought evaporates. Cooper Anderson, the most attractive man alive, is standing in front of Kurt with a dazzling smile.

“Blainey! Has your date finally arrived?”

“Yeah,” Blaine answers without a beat and suddenly he’s hooking his arm around Kurt’s. “This is Kurt.”

Kurt is pretty sure he doesn’t understand anything anymore. He turns to give Blaine an inquiring look, but only gets a warm smile in return. Blaine looks very nice with that kind of smile on his face. Kurt could look at him forever.

“Hello,” Cooper says happily and offers his hand much like Blaine did only moments before. “Blaine has been really secretive about you, so it’s really nice to finally see the guy he’s been dating.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kurt manages, his heart in his throat. He is shaking Cooper Anderson’s hand. He might never wash his hands again! Only Cooper thinks he’s dating his brother, and Kurt has no idea why any of this is happening. Damn Rachel for being so persuasive and talking him into coming here.

“I know nothing about you. For a while there I was sure you don’t exist at all!” Cooper continues with a gesturing hand. “Blaine here holds his cards very close to his chest. So, what do you do?”

Kurt can feel Blaine stiffening by his side. He decides to roll with it. Besides, he’s proud of what he does. He has no trouble telling Cooper Anderson about it. “Uh, um. I’m a fashion designer and a writer. I have a column in Vogue.”

“Wow, that’s great! Where did you two meet again?”

Kurt bites his lip. He is decent at improv, but he doesn’t know anything about Blaine and coming up with a believable story in front of Blaine’s brother is a tall order. Not to mention that Cooper Anderson has been Kurt’s celebrity crush for years. “It’s a long story,” he evades, looking at Blaine, who is still clinging to his arm.

“I was busking close to where he works,” Blaine says, staring at the shiny toes of his shoes. “It’s kind of embarrassing, I’ll tell you some other time when we’re not surrounded by people.”

“You can…” Cooper begins to say, but someone comes over and taps him on the shoulder. When he turns and points his finger at Blaine in a clear signal for later, Kurt lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Once Cooper is out of earshot with the woman who came to get him, Kurt pulls away from Blaine and faces him. “Care to explain what just happened?”

Blaine gives him a look. “You’re the one crashing my brother’s party. Would you have preferred I tell him the truth? I got you off the hook, now you have a reason to be here, and my brother is off my back about my date. Win-win. I need a drink now, though.”

“Hold on, I need more than that,” Kurt insists, grabbing on to Blaine’s elbow to keep him from leaving.

Blaine sighs. There’s something defeated about him. “Why? It’s not like we’re going to meet again.”

“Why would you lie to your brother about your date? Where is your real date?” Kurt asks. He can’t imagine lying to his family about something like that, ever. Besides his dad would figure him out in a second if he even tried. He’s grateful that Blaine saved him from having to tell Cooper the truth, but he kind of wonders what the family is like, if lies come so easily.

“There is no real date. There was… someone, who apparently didn’t think we were dating at all despite me sleeping over a couple of times a week,” Blaine says. He keeps his eyes on the ground, not meeting Kurt’s worried gaze. “I told Cooper I’d be bringing him over, then I actually asked him, and he laughed in my face. I did not feel like explaining that to Cooper.”

Kurt feels sorry for the guy. No one deserves to be treated like that. “That’s awful. I wouldn’t have said no.”

Blaine gives him a wry smile. “Thanks. But you’re here even without being invited, so there’s an agenda there.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “No. You seem like a good guy, you’re really attractive, and no one should be treated like that. Let’s get those drinks and talk some more.”

This time the smile Blaine gives him is a little more real, though still very small.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

I Will Take You Tonight (Part 1)

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors. Not 100% accurate.

The glaring rays of the sun cast long shadows on the skyscrapers.

The seventeen warlords and I slipped through time and found ourselves in the parking lot of a TV station building.

Mai: "Sasuke, are you sure this is okay?"

Sasuke: "Not only did they promise to pay for our performance, but they also promised to arrange a hotel for all of us while we're here. Also, everyone is excited, so I think we'll be fine."

(I never thought this would happen.)

A few hours ago.

We were having a tea party when we suddenly got caught in a wormhole and transported back to the present day.

Just when we were wondering what to do, a TV station staff passed by and spotted all the warlords.

(It's incredible to think that we'll be appearing on TV. And to top it off, the concept of the show is一)

Ranmaru: "Phantom Thief, huh? I'm looking forward to it, Lady Mai!"

Mai: "Yeah, I wonder what it will be like."

The show's concept was for everyone to split into three groups and engage in a treasure hunt, dressed up as phantom thieves.

(I think it's a typical variety show, but I wonder if everyone will be okay.)

Despite my concern, everyone was in high spirits.

Keiji: "I'm just grateful that they're willing to give us a place to stay just so we can have a fun treasure hunt."

Kanetsugu: "I'm just thankful we didn't end up on the street."

Yoshimoto: "I guess it's gonna be different competing with the tools of this era."

Kenshin: "If it's a game, I won't lose."

Kanetsugu: “I’ll be happy to help you, Lord Kenshin.”

Nobunaga: “We still don’t know what will happen to the groupings, though.”

Staff 1: “Everyone, please follow me to the waiting room!”

With the call from the staff, everyone stepped into the TV station, one by one.

(This is nice!)

(Hm?)

At that moment, I suddenly felt someone’s gaze and looked behind me, but there was no one there.

Staff 1: “Miss, please come with me.”

Mai: “Ah, okay.”

(I’m sure they’re looking because it’s weird to see everyone in kimonos.)

(Even I would be surprised if I walked by knowing nothing about it.)

I drew that conclusion and walked into the building as well.

Nobunaga: “How do you like it, Mai?”

Mai: “Wow! You all look fantastic!”

(They’re just like the phantom thieves I see in movies and dramas!)

I met up with everyone after they had changed their outfits and was surprised to see their dazzling appearance.

Kicho: “It looks elaborate, but it’s pretty easy to move in.”

Kennyo: "It seems that each of us has been assigned a specific gemstone, indicating our respective teams."

Motonari: "The costumes also have a distinct design to avoid confusion."

Team "Sapphire" consists of Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Ieyasu, Mitsunari, Shingen, and Yoshimoto.

Team "Ruby" consists of Masamune, Kanetsugu, Yukimura, Sasuke, Keiji and Ranmaru.

While Team "Diamond" consists of Mitsuhide, Kenshin, Motonari, Kennyo, and Kicho.

Mai: "You all look really cool!"

(If everyone appeared on TV dressed like this, someone might start a fan club.)

Masamune: "Are you willing to be stolen by me?"

Mai: "Masamune?"

Masamune suddenly hugged me by the shoulder, surprising me.

Ieyasu: "Hey, Masamune. Stop pestering Mai."

Mai: "Ieyasu."

Ieyasu pulled me away from Masamune and hugged me, making me tense.

Yoshimoto: "Fufu, perhaps competing to win over Mai isn't a bad idea after all."

Yukimura: "Don't hold her hands, Yoshimoto."

Mai: "Please compete for the treasure, not me."

Just as it seemed the competition was about to begin, the staff returned.

Staff 1: "Here are some of the props. Feel free to use whatever is inside this box. I have preparations to make for the set, so if you'll excuse me."

Ranmaru: "Lord Sasuke, what's this?"

Sasuke: "That's a wire gun. It's a gun, but a wire pops out of it, and you can use it in different ways."

Motonari: "What is this kite-looking thing?"

Kicho: "That's a hang glider. It's like a kite, but you can use it to move through the air."

(There are warning cards, paint guns, smoke screens, and all kinds of things.)

I stared at everyone as they got excited, and the door to the waiting room suddenly opened.

Staff 2: "I have a favor to ask of your female friend."

A different guy approached and beckoned me over.

Mai: "Okay."

(How far will we go?)

I followed him, and he led me down to a deserted hallway.

Mai: "Um..."

Mai: "----!"

At that moment, someone suddenly covered my mouth from behind, and I desperately tried to resist.

(I'm losing strength.)

Then, I lost consciousness.

At that time, in the dressing room一

Yoshimoto: "Mai sure is late."

Kanetsugu: "Didn't the staff call her?"

Ranmaru: "I'm worried. I'll go check on her."

Just as Ranmaru placed his hand on the doorknob, the door opened.

Staff 1: "Is something wrong?"

Mitsunari: "One of the staff called our friend to leave. Do you know anything about it?"

Staff 1: "What? I don't think we have a staff like that."

Everyone: "!"

As if triggered by the staff's words, everyone dashed into the hallway.

Kennyo: "Is this Mai's earring?"

Yukimura: "She was wearing that. It's strange that it fell here."

Shingen: "Did someone take her away?"

Mitsuhide: "The phone the staff gave her is not working either."

Kicho: "This is not part of your plan, is it?"

Staff 1: "O-Of course not! I'll contact the police immediately."

Nobunaga: "We won't leave it to someone else."

Kenshin: "Obviously."

Hideyoshi: "We'll rescue her ourselves."

Ieyasu: "I will never forgive him for kidnapping that girl."

Masamune: "She's our treasure. We will do whatever it takes to get her back."

➟ Part 2

[coltrainbat]

Wow i'm glad you do. For Nick Vaughan i want to ask for a fluff. (i never say no to smutt by the way :) ) Reader came from another country to new york. They met while reader is walking at the city at night. They start dating and fall so hard for each other. They decide to movie in in a small apartment which is a safe, sweet home to both. The first one that they have❤

Also, a request that is deserving of multiple parts! 🥰

Nick Vaughan X Reader Series

Take Me Home | Part 1: Meet Cute

A/N: Ooft... did this take a while! I am so sorry for the delay for my love @atoosa22 but i hope you enjoy the first part of what is sure to be a very fluffy (and soon to be smutty) series. ☘️😘

“Yeah mom, of course, uh-huh... yeah I’m heading home now… yes… it’s freezing here.” You pulled your keys out of the lock of your workplace, holding your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you listened to your mothers worries and concerns knowing she stood halfway across the world powerless while you were alone in the big city.

But there was no such thing as being alone in New York, all the sounds, the lights, the people. It never slept. But you certainly did.

3am and all you could think about is your nice, warm fluffy bed at home.

“Yeah mom, ok well I gotta go… I love you have a good day!”

You hung up, slipping your phone into your pocket. Tightening your coat around you, noticing the misty cloud that appeared when you breathed out. Fiddling with your keys in your hand, manoeuvring the teeth of the metal between your knuckles (just in case).

It was a 20-minute walk back to your apartment. What could happen in the 20-minute direct route to your apartment? 20 blocks. 20 minutes. Head forward. Shoulders back. One foot in front of the other.

Stragglers lined the street; sleeping homeless people, drunk patrons who have called it a night and a few bold individuals walking their dog.

You’re not alone. Never in New York.

You reached block 12 of your journey. With the building above it under construction a makeshift tunnel of plasterboard and wooden beams was your path. Poorly lit by a singular low functioning flood light above but with the rest of the street cut off, it was your only option.

The sound of your boots on the floor was drowned out by the sound of drunk male laughter. “Not every drunk man is a bad man” you thought as you followed the sound hoping to make it to the other side unfazed.

The tunnel was narrow, and the group of men took up most of the path, leaning against the walls, huddled in a group. Taking in a shaky breath you approached them, eager to pass without being perceived.

“Hey pretty girl where you going?” Mission failed as the man snarled at you. You bowed your head, suddenly becoming interested in the tips of your shoe that was until the presence of another matched you toe to toe.

He had blocked your path, forcing you to look up. “Hey when a man’s talking to you, you respond.” His voice was louder this time, agitated. You had heard it many times before in men. Angry men. Men who always got their way by force.

You clenched your fist around your keys, feeling the keychain make indents on your skin. The man had an audience, and he wasn’t going to relent.

“Why don’t you smile a little…” His hand edged towards your face but shot away suddenly at an echo from behind you.

“Baby hey why you walking so fast!” A man came up beside you, wrapping his hand tightly around your waist.

“Excuse me guys.” He gave a firm shoulder nudge towards the man in front of you, pushing him the side. Frozen in fear you let him lead you towards the exit.

You both walked in silence to the next block, far gone from the narrow tunnel.

“Thank you.” You finally let out.

“Oh, foreign that explains it.” He mutters. The fear in your body had now left, replaced with annoyance.

“What’s that supposed to me?” You pushed out of his grip around your waist. Now face to face with the man who technically saved your life.

He looked down on you, while a little wayward in appearance, he was tall and handsome a scruffy beard curving around a strong jaw. Even with layers he looked as though he packed a decent bit of muscle, enough to push your average creep down if needed.

“It means anyone whose actually from New York knows that when you look like that you shouldn’t be walking around it at 3am.” He spits, cocking his head to side in a condescending manner.

“For your information, I’ve done that walk many times since I moved here and that has never happened. And since when is it a woman’s responsibility to reconfigure their whole lives so creepy assholes don’t have a chance to take advantage of them?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pinched his eyebrow in frustration.

“Well thank you for very much again and I hope you enjoyed your knight in shining armour moment.” You continued to walk, leaving behind your handsome saviour.

“Hey wait.” He jogged up behind you. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“God you do walk fast don’t ya?” His joke was met with your scowl.

“Let me at least walk you the rest of the way home?”

“Oh so you can know my address and then break in and kill me?” You scoffed.

“I would of been happy with a cup of thank you coffee.” He rubbed his neck, smirking at you.

“I don’t even know your name and you want to come back to my apartment?” You looked at him like he had two heads.

“Well, it’s Nick, and if that’s not good enough its Nick Vaughan born 14th of June 1981. Professional failing trumpet player, full time adored son, part time knight in shining armour, and my social security number is 79-.”

You put your hand up to stop him “Ok ok I get it you’re not a murderer.”

“Hey you cut me off at the best part!”

“Oh really?”

“I’m also the guy who makes sure a pretty girl who just had to deal with a drunken creep gets home safe.”

You pursed your lips inward to hide the smile threatening to come up as he called you pretty.

“Fine.” You let out.

“Wait a minute…” He stepped closer, holding out his pointer “What if you’re…” His finger threatening to push past your coat and touch the exposed skin of your chest. “The murderer.”

“Y/N, foreigner, passport holder of [your country], professionally [dream job] but also full time, loving daughter and occasional victim of drunken creeps.”

He thought for a moment, looking up at the skyscraper above him “Yeah that checks out.”

He held out his elbow, edging you to thread your hand in it. You looked at his arm in confusion.

“You’re cold I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

You were cold and his strong arm was inviting and with your limited experience of his arms around you, you knew that you liked it and it wouldn’t hurt to be able to savour the feeling this time. You begrudgingly slid your hand through.

Nick: “Is it rude to ask why you are walking home this late?”

Y/N: “Pushing it but if you must know I was closing at work.”

Nick: “Alone? They make you do it alone?” His voice laced with concern.

Y/N: “I’m not 15 so yes, they make me, an adult women close up shop at the end of the day.”

Nick: “Remind me not to start questioning the independence of a clearly very strong-minded woman.”

Y/N: “You learn quick, too bad you seem to be 30 years too late.”

Nick: “3 sisters, so excuse the natural instincts.”

Y/N: “Fair enough.”

Nick: “How do you drink coffee from where you’re from?”

Y/N: “In a mug.”

Nick: “Funny.”

Y/N: “I know. Now my turn.”

Nick: “Shoot.”

Y/N: “Why are you walking alone this late?”

Nick: “I’m a musician.”

Y/N: “Yes, but not a vampire so…”

Nick: “Most gigs are at night as well as drunk people are more likely to give up their cash.”

Y/N: “So, you’re a hustler?”

Nick: “I prefer the term opportunist.” He smirked at you.

“This is me.” You motioned towards the front step of your building.

“It’s pretty late-”

“I should let you go-”

You looked at each other, letting out soft laughter.

"Thanks for walking me home. I guess I owe you that cup of thank you coffee."

Nick grinned. "I'll hold you to that. How about tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, why not?" you replied, surprised by your own eagerness.

"But you're buying, you know struggling musician and all."

"Fine.”

"Goodnight, [Your country]."

“Goodnight, Nick.”

As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Opening the door to your apartment, your back hitting the door as you slid to the ground, grinning like an idiot.

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 859

McCoy

“We were headed out to the orchard,” McCoy said, gesturing to himself and Christine. “Want to come?”

Jim looked at Spock, before turning back to McCoy. “We’ll catch you later. After dinner? A movie or maybe a swim?”

“Sure,” Christine said. “What about you Scotty?”

“Oh aye, I’ll come.”

“We’ll see you guys at dinner then,” McCoy said to Spock and Jim. Jim waved a hand over his shoulder as he and Spock headed down the hall the other way.

“Come on,” he said to Christine and Scotty. “That’s us,” he said, pointing at their bedroom door as they walked past.

“Leo promises I won’t hear anything,” Christine grinned at Scotty. Scotty blushed.

“Oh wow,” Christine said as they approached the gazebo in the orchard. “I can see why you want to have it out here. It’s beautiful and it smells wonderful.”

“Want a peach?” McCoy asked. “It’s a little early, but I can probably find a couple…”

“Sure,” Christine nodded. Scotty nodded too when McCoy looked at him.

“Go get comfortable then,” McCoy told them. “I’ll be up in a minute.” He wandered over to the nearest trees and began looking and touching the fruit. He could hear the soft murmur of Scotty and Christine’s voices. He smiled, it was just so right to have them both here with him.

“Here ya are,” McCoy said a few minutes later when he joined them in the gazebo.

“Thanks,” Christine said as she took the peach he handed her. He sat down next to Scotty.

“What’s the plan then, the next few days?” Christine asked after they all had their first bites.

McCoy glanced at Scotty and they both smiled.

“Francine or Mother are probably the ones to ask that to,” McCoy chuckled. “I’m sure one of them will tell us over dinner. Even Leah maybe. She probably knows everything.”

“I think you two are supposed to know too,” Christine joked. “It’s your wedding.”

“They’ll tell us where to be and when,” McCoy laughed.

“Mum said something about wanting to see your dress and that,” Scotty offered.

“There isn’t some list of etiquette I need to follow is there?” Christine looked suddenly doubtful. “I did do a bit of looking into other royal weddings…”

“Absolutely not,” McCoy said firmly. “This is our wedding and we’re doing what we want, not what some galaxy out there wants.”

“Ok,” Christine said slowly, “but you will tell me if I do something I shouldn’t?”

“I’m sure you won’t,” McCoy said.

“Christine! It’s good to see ye!” Francine was first to see them as they entered the dining room.

“I trust the boys made you welcome,” Eleanor greeted Christine after Francine hugged her.

“Very,” Christine smiled. “Everything’s so lovely here!”

“I hope you don’t mind but we’d like to have some time with you and Leah tomorrow,” Eleanor continued. “See your dress, go over hairstyle ideas and such.”

“Sure,” Christine said with a bright smile. “Where should I…?” She looked at the chairs around the table.

“Over here by me,” Scotty said.

Part 860

Scotty

They all spent a nice dinner together with Eleanor and Francine talking and asking questions most of the time. Both mothers were just so excited for the wedding; probably even more than Scotty and Leonard themselves.

After dinner the young adults got ready to take a swim. They had all preferred the pool over a movie and Scotty was looking forward to a relaxing evening. Still, he couldn't help but blush slightly as he jumped into the cool water.

The memories of his and Leonard's last visit at the pool were still lingering and the Scotsman still couldn't tell how exactly he had managed to act so carefree. People could have walked in! It was just so crazy!

However, it wasn't only the thought of their last time at the pool, but also the revelation Leah had made some nights ago.

Her and Robbie had also...

Scotty closed his eyes and shook his head to get rid of the image. He didn't want to imagine his wee brother's love life too clearly.

Someone else was obviously remembering the talk too and it wasn't Leonard.

Jim was grinning at Robbie and Leah, wiggling his eyebrows knowingly and the heavy blush on the younger Scott brother's face told just how embarrassed he was.

"My, my, the water feels just great. It's the perfect place to-," the blond boy said with a sigh and Leah quickly splashed some water into his face, shutting him up.

"Oh no, you won't!" She retorted with a grin and Jim laughed, splashing water back at her.

"How will you stop me?"

"Oh, I can show you."

A wild fight of splashing followed and Scotty, Leonard and Christine quickly swam out of harm's way while Robbie helped Leah. Spock was ignoring the fight, just taking his laps.

Christine chuckled softly.

"Do I even want to know?"

Scotty and Leonard exchanged a glance, before they both shook their heads.

"Nae, I don't think so, lass."

"Nah."

Christine only smiled, then started to take her laps too. Leonard and Scotty accompanied her.

"So... when will the others arrive?"

"Nyota, Jaylah, Pavel and Hikaru will arrive two days before the wedding. And Keenser will be here at noon tomorrow. Bet he just wants to get away from his mum and her matchmaking attempts," Scotty answered, knowing quite well that his friend was annoyed by his mother. Christine smiled sympathetically.

"I'm sure he would have liked to come here even earlier," she said.

"Aye, but his family wants to say a proper goodbye to him before he starts his studies and he wants to do a wee round trip after the wedding."

Christine nodded.

"Yes, he mentioned something about that."

"I'm sure he'll have a great time. There are lots of places to visit in this galaxy," Leonard said. He had probably seen a lot of other planets, being a prince. Though come to think of it, Scotty had never actually talked with him about travels.

"I bet you two are looking forward to your honeymoon too, huh?"

There was a bright smile on Christine's face as she looked at her her two friends who once again exchanged a glance.

It was Leonard who eventually answered for both of them.

"Yes, we are. I'm sure it'll be perfect and the relaxation we need after everything that happened."

[philhoffman]

Revisiting 25th Hour (2002) for this week’s Monday Philm, Spike Lee’s post-9/11 adaptation of the David Benioff novel. I saw it for the first time last year and since then I’ve watched a few of PSH’s scenes on their own, but this was my first complete rewatch. I was really looking forward to it — and it didn’t disappoint!

I totally melted into the style this time. It’s not a normal film. I watched it with my mom, who said she enjoyed it but couldn’t even put her finger on what genre it was. Spike Lee’s style — the editing, the cuts, freeze-frames, dolly shots, timeline jumps, meandering scenes — is much easier to digest once you’re already familiar with the story. I haven’t quite made up my mind about Edward Norton. I like him, he has charm, but you could probably switch out Monty for his Will Graham (from last week’s Red Dragon) and no one would notice the difference lol? I’ll have to watch more of his work to see if he does anything else! But his “fuck you” bathroom monologue is a highlight — as is Brian Cox’s monologue at the end of the film.

Jakob Elinsky is a great character but most importantly he is a loser — and an awful teacher! It’s funny bc I know if I had seen this movie several years ago when I was crushing on my high school teachers, I would’ve been all over him, but now that I’m older I am fully prepared to beat him back with a baseball bat. He’s so slimy! I really felt that on this rewatch for some reason. He’s a good friend to Monty, a teacher a respectable school, dogs love him, his buddies clown on him for being so naïve and innocent — but actually he’s kind of weak-willed and creepy! He’s still all of those other, positive things, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he is fully aware that what he’s doing is wrong and does it anyway. 

Seems like a somewhat early depiction of that specific kind of perv, who hides behind a harmless, I-know-it’s-wrong-but demeanor. More subtle than Allen in Happiness, yet clearly nowhere near as wholesome as State and Main’s Joe White. Phil’s performance walks that line and challenges the viewer, dares you to like him almost. And I do, sort of? Moral conflict! Cognitive dissonance! Our guy can do it all. Maybe Jakob just needs some therapy (and to find a new job). Definitely an overlooked character when people discuss PSH’s “losers and freaks,” as they often call his roles. And boyyy do I wish we could find out what happens next for Jake the Snake.

On this viewing, I noticed and loved the way Mary takes off Jake’s Yankee’s hat almost as soon as he leaves the bathroom. Like, the look on her face says enough, but that extra action, as if she suddenly cannot stand the thought of any part of him touching any part of her... wow. Anna Paquin’s performance is fantastic, going from a girl trying so hard to be a woman to — instantly and silently — a frightened child, in over her head, is dizzying.