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sudsyv2 · 2 years ago
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I have so many silly prompts and only one small brain that can’t remember all of them so I’m writing them down ><! (if you like any feel free to use them !)
I’ll probably be adding to this list daily 😽
MISC:
1. Ghost and soap who have reincarnated so many times but somehow still meet each other in their new lives.
2. Soap and ghost on a swing, just swinging and chatting
3. Duke ghost and butler soap or reverse! Either way one’s trying not get them in trouble and the other doesn’t give a fuck if something happens, they��d literally go to war with the entire country if anyone opposes to their relationship
4. Siren soap!!!!
5. Ghost and his inability to say no to Soap
6. Gamer ghost (sorry this is just so funny) and rich boy soap who’s got an embarrassing crush on him
7. Tattoo artist soap and biker ghost
8. Big werewolf ghost and his somehow more feral human boyfriend soap!
9. Soulmates, red strings the whole deal
10. Ghost getting called big guy by soap (and liking it)
11. STREAMER GHOAP AU THINK ABOUT IT, IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY
12. Finding out each others love language
13. Ghost is a rock collector he collects shiny rocks and when he finds one he really likes he shows soap
14. Painter soap
15. Soap doodling on ghosts arm
16. Soap learning to cook, just cause he’s bored
17. WRITE MORE OF THE PROMISE RING SHIT I GOTTA WRITE MORE OF IT
18. Ok so hear me out, a tiny creature (can be a baby monster thing or idk) imprints on both soap and ghost
19. Soap is good with kids
20. Photographer ghost but he doesn’t talk about it. Though one Christmas, soap got him an expensive camera and he was extremely happy about it
21. soap carry’s small bandaids with stickers on it all the time. You got a small cut? He’s got a hello kitty, Batman, any kind of bandaid you want he’s probably got
22. Tyrant ghost looking for a wife and then in comes knight soap looking to defeat tyrant ghost
23. Ghost has incredibly dumb theories and soap is the only one who listens to them
24. DINOSAURS!! THEY BOTH REALLY LIKE DINOSUARS AND THEY HAVE ARGUEMENTS ON THEIR FAVORITE DINOSAURS
25. Detective Ghost and an Arsonist on the run from the police Soap
26. Literal ghost! soap, like that bitch is haunting the base grounds, and lieutenant who goes by the name ghost
(Will add more)
FLUFF:
1. Soap looking at ghost with such a loving shine in his eyes, those damn puppy eyes staring at ghost like he had just given soap the world
2. Soap buying ghost flowers
3. Soap kissing all of ghosts scars
4. Them just laying together, cuddling, soap is rambling about something and ghost is listening intently sometimes even adding a “I see” in between to let soap know he’s listening
5. Soap would be the one to propose but wouldn’t be able to hide the fact he was going to propose, his excitement written all over his face
6. I know it’s probably not possible but imagine ghost being ticklish
7. Ghost, whenever they’re cuddling, likes to put his entire body weight on soap. And soap doesn’t even mind, playing with ghosts hair and rubbing his back.
8. Soap having to get on his tippy toes to kiss ghost and ghost leaning farther and farther back to see just how determined soap is to kiss him (very. Soap is very determined.)
9. Taking a shower together, nothing sexual happens it’s just them washing each other after a long day
10. SLOW DANCING, AND BOTH TAKE TURNS TAKING THE LEAD
11. Ghost kissing soaps hand
12. Ghost learning how to knit and knits soap a blanket that says “soap and ghost”
13. Bass guitarist ghost in a band who really wants to woo this super cute guy (soap ofc) that always shows up to their concerts, and gets his bandmates to help him write a song for said super cute guy (soap)
14. Soap can sing and sometimes ghost will just ask if soap can sing for him. When they’re both sleepy! And soap does, it’s usually always some type of silly lullaby. Works wonders for ghost though
15. Price telling ghost that his lover boy(soap) is here
16. Ghost gets a small scratch on his cheek and soap kisses it better, ghost not expecting the kiss is left frozen in place for a couple seconds while soap is just walking off cackling
17. The way they wake each other up. Ghost gently nudges soap awake but if he could stare at soaps sleeping face forever he would. Soap on the other hand, says ghosts name and kisses his face. Like a lot. But ghost is always up after the first kiss, he just likes to act asleep to get more kisses
18. Their first kiss. Not like their usual quick ones that leave them both wanting more, this one is soft and tender. Eerily gentle.
19. Soap seeing Ghosts genuine smile, it left him breathless as ghosts deep laugh ran through his entire body and made him shiver
20. Soaps and ghosts adopted cat son Phantom!!! Phantoms patterns on his face look like ghost so of course soap had to adopt him. Anyways cat dads ghoap
21. Aftercare (I’m the biggest slut for aftercare that shit is amazing)
(Will add more)
NSFW (there will be NO things like noncon or r/pe here unless it entails them finding a way to heal after it)
I don’t usually write smut so I’m sorry if these are bad 😭
1. Werewolf ghost goes into rut, human soap offers to help him through it
2. Power bottom soap who is extremely good at getting guys like ghost to be on their knees for him
3. Soap wearing lipstick and leaving big O lipstick stains on ghosts dick
4. Ghost in bed is extremely touchy, he needs to have soaps skin under his hands gloved or not.
5. Ghost pressing his hand on soaps stomach to feel the bump of his own cock in the other
6. Soap is under ghosts desk sucking him off
7. Soap cockwarming ghost while the other writes a report
8. Roleplay idk what they’re roleplaying just roleplay
9. Soap likes to moan loud to see how long it takes for ghost to push his head against a bed/wall just to shut him up
10. Soap loves it rough
11. Ghost lifting soap up to fuck him and soap is absolutely in shock and turned on
12. ghost is a big biter, soaps had to cover up way to many bites from him
13. Lmao monster fucker soap
14. Ghoap exploring their kinks!
15. My friend said virgin ghost and I was like ok sure, then he hit me with “experienced soap telling inexperienced ghost how he wants to be fucked” and I was like damn ok
16. Ghost is extremely weak to the way soap says his name, especially in bed. Hearing that breathless “Simon” mixed with soaps strained yeses and moans gets ghost hard (really fuckin hard lol)
(Will add more)
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a-star-that-burns-brightly · 5 months ago
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Actually, I'm curious Do you guys have any criticisms when it comes to Milgram? Specifically from a writing/storytelling/character perspective, but it can also be about anything.
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unriding · 2 days ago
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EVIE !!!!!
I SAW U USE MY ART AS UR THEME SO I WANNA DO A REMAKE !!! mostly cause the other one was full of mistaks hurrrrr orz
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keeping the color palette the same so itd still fit + use softer shading so convey how soft u are + moze is now IN UR HAND !!!! >:3
oh nick :’)
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#🐦‍⬛🐕 .#彡 cherishing.#彡 inbox.#彡 nick!#AAAJSNSNS i did my makeup in record time because i had to respond to this asap !! T T i have 25 tags left and so much to say so let’s see#how efficiently i can use my words to convey my gratitude !! T T im actually losing my mind at the addition of moze’s little hands .. i#i will get into that later …. i cannot believe u revamped it for me!!!! thank you nick ?!?! 🥹 i went to gaze 🔎 at the two!! though i think#both are so lovely — i love the curl to my hair !!! i sleep with my hair in those heatless curl rods — so they always tend to be wavier at#the bottom since the top comes loose — THOUGH ITS A RANDOM DETAIL AHAJJ I THOUGHT it looked so accurate !! >< U DID THE BOW EARRINGS UUURGH#i love drop earrings !!!!! and the bow matches with the big one — i noticed the bow & headband is a bit different!! I LOVE BOTH — omg and t#god im going to run out of tags - AND THE SLEEVE!!! ok i shouldn’t point out every difference akajjajaj i am just so excited looking at bot#of them!! I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW ME IM SO?? CAN I SAY THAT??? the little sparkle is spot on because !!! i am showing off mini moze!! to everyo#everyone* T T !!! HE IS SO PRECIOUS AHAHAJSN his gigantic hood … and his signature (ᓀ ᓀ) oh but he is so cute …. T T NICK YOU MAKE HIM LOOK#SO SQUISHABLE URK ITS SO SPOT ON . HIS SQUISHABLE-NESS REALLY SHINES IN YOUR AWESOME ART STYLE (i don’t think i have ever reblogged somethi#something* from you without mentioning your art style) HES SO TINY AAASJSN MY HEART FELT SO HAPPY SEEING HIS LITTLE HANDS …. HIS HANDS ARE#FHE SIZE OF MY EARRING 😭😭😭😭 oh my god i just noticed you gave him a little blush and i want to lock myself underground /pos HE IS SO CUTE#IN YOUR STYLE IUUUAGGHHHH IM IN SUCH AGONY /pos :’) oh i don’t think i will get over his little hands ISNSKDKX im feeling so violently#affectionate staring at it — THE WAY HE IS DRAPED OVER MY HAND IS SO SJSNDNCJ he is my …. most treasured little crow …. that i am showing#everyone with the happiest smile ever …. THANK YOU NICK ))): and the fact that you kept the colors for my theme is so ?!?! you are so thou#UGH TUMBLR — you are so thoughtful with all of your gifts towards your friends!! noting all the details and such ): oh i adore you ): u sai#softer shading to convey how soft i am but i have quite literally melted into a puddle of goo so now am i soft ?! i believe i am just a#puddle in the corner over there in the nick museum -> waiting to be mopped -> OH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH SOB THANK YOU ))): i was about to say#that i don’t even know what to say to convey my gratitude — but i have said something! just not enough to get out my feelings ^^; never eno#ALSO I LOVE HOW YOU DID MY LASHES AAHHHNXNX )): my eyes !!! your style !!! oh i am really in such agony /POS URGH AND I KEEP LOOKING AT HIS#LITTLE HANDS AND WANTING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS BUNDLE OF VIOLENT AFFECTION I GET FROM IT T T HES SO TINY AJANSDto ruffle his hair with#the very tip of my pinkie … trembling trying not to knock him over ……. i must make him a little spot in my purse …. with little blankets to#keep him nice and cozy …. nick words cannot express my gratitude — thank you!!! both versions are so stunning 🥹 I REALLY APPRECIATE IT (<-#severe understatement) (the most severe understatement) your art is always so stunning#when im home i must come back and add some good reaction photos !!!! THANJ YOU SNIFFLE YOU ARE TOO KIND )))))):#similar to the first time u visited my inbox …. if I ever spot a kofianywhere 🔎🔎🔎🔎🔎👁️!!
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pinkinsect · 8 months ago
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i love listening to pink spider by hide and wondering what's his deal is/what's occurred to him/what is going to occur to him
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gibbearish · 6 months ago
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anon im not gonna post that one, not bc of anything you said dw, im just not 100% sure if we are thinking of the same person bc i havent been paying attention if the posts i saw all came from the same op, and even tho there's no names in either of our things i still wouldnt feel comfortable spreading that w/o having seen it firsthand. that being said, in the event that we are: jesus fuck???
#i have to wonder if ppl like that actually care abt the media itself at all or if its just a vehicle for discourse to them#like if you dont want to hear opinions different from yours youre free to not talk to the rest of the fandom but you dont get to#demand everyone else drop their interpretations and agree with yours#esp bc theres always like. an implied 'or else' at the end where the punishment is Being Called Transmisogynistic Disingenuously#and its just like . ok and? ur gonna do that anyways#anyways yeah. its wild#im reminded also of something i saw a few months ago‚ im glad it didnt metastisize into full discourse#but essentially i saw a few ppl arguing over like. 'dave kinnies shut up homestuck isnt an inherently transmasc story just#because it cracked a lot of you. its a transfem story period.' and im just there like 👁️👄👁️ hey lets all go outside ! and listen to#some birds!! talk to a friend!!!!#like. it . doesnt have to be one or the other?? it can just. be inherently trans???? or even inherently ambiguously queer in general???#if you are transfem you will see it as inherently transfem because we project ourselves onto art#and vice versa transmascs will see it as inherently transmasc#bc like. gender can be a large part of our identity and a lot of us grew up with homestuck being a large part of our identity so it makes#sense that a lot of people would closely associate the two‚ and in turn why people are extra defensive about it#but its also like. just bc it makes sense doesnt mean its a healthy way of approaching it yknow?#anyways. rant over‚ and again hope you dont mind me not posting the ask itself#origibberish#gibberasks#editing bc i realized i was unclear: i am transmasc not transfem‚ the 'our' in that one tag is referring to Everyone nendjsbf
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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saori the biggest kin/id of my life because why would my roommate make a bunch of cookies when now i have to fight for my life not to eat every single last one of them
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mila-carat · 6 months ago
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Even INI noticed that Takumi and Yudai's hug scene was a little bit "🤨🏳️‍🌈?" and to be honest i'm glad I'm not the only one...
#👁️👄👁️#Yes two men can hug without it being romantic! It can be platonic! Don't get me wrong!#But the scene itself had romantic connotation because of their facial expressions. They seemed like lovers desperate to love but can't#Also the first time I saw it I thought they were trying to reach for the key#But they got rid of the chains when they touched hands (kind of “love saves the day” type of thing)#Their love (romantic or platonic) saved them from the chains that imprisoned them - not the key! :3#I'm not saying Yudai and Takumi have a thing - just that they seemed like they wanted to portray a same-sex couple#Both of them can act remember? Takumi is literally in a drama and Yudai was great playing that sassy princess!#Also... I have to say it 👀#Some small details in the MV seem to talk about LGBTQ+ rights and Pride Parade...#Again!!! I'm not saying it IS about queerness!!!#But the whole story of the MV being about riots... Hiromu's line “fighting against prejudice”#Rihito (a guy who openly supports LGBTQ+ rights) holding a big flag like it is a pride flag...#Their performance at Studio Choom literally making up the asexual flag at the screen and Takumi showing off a black ring in the middle#Finger of his right hand... (a.k.a asexual ring)#The line “PRIDE” itself... (Pride of what I wonder? Hmmm...) Their hair colors making up a rainbow... (ok this is just a joke) (but they do#The song being named “LOUD” (“Be Loud Be Proud” a.k.a phrase often used by queer people? Anyone??)#And last but not least it was released in JUNE (a.k.a Pride Month)!#Listen. I DO think the MV is connected to INI's MVs' storyline. Specially with SPECTRA and We Are and Password.#But... BUT. Hear me out. Please. Open your mind a little bit.#The boys (specially Hiroto who wrote the song) also want to express themselves their opinions and their feelings.#My boy Nishi LOVES doing that in the songs he writes. And maybe (just maybe) he and maybe other members wanted to#Help these queer people (specially queer MINIs) feel seem. Maybe some are queer themselves. We don't know and that is not our business.#But - whatever the reason is - they wanted to help these people feel seem and cared for. They wanted to tell them to continue fighting.#To fight against prejudice. To be LOUD and PROUD.#We MINIs know INI is not really afraid to think outside of the box... “Breaking the frame breaking the frame 🎵” :3#I mean Rihito literally stan an openly bisexual black man and he said “LGBTQ” in an interview even if he's an IDOL!!#He wore a t-shirt that says “Why being racist sexist HOMOPHOBIC and TRANSPHOBIC when you could just be quiet?”#(OMG he's so my ichiban for that 😭)#If Rihito can do that I wouldn't be surprised if other members also did something like what I said above! 😌
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hyper-fixates · 3 months ago
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Time After Time
Logan Howlett/Wolverine x AFAB!reader (no pronouns/gendered language).
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Explicit content (18+)
Word count: 15.2k never let me near him again
Tags/warnings: age-gap due to logan’s mutation (reader’s age not specified), mutant!reader, unprotected sex, teasing, friends to lovers, explicit language, dry humping, storm cameos, fluff, domesticity, the claws come out when he’s close (👁️👁️), detailed descriptions & scenes of nightmares/trauma/PTSD/panic attacks, one (1) ass smack, alcohol consumption, vomiting, biting/marking, angst, soft!logan, creampie, groping/touching, use of “baby” once, aftercare, yearning (kindly let me know if anything was missed!).
Summary: 4 times you end up in Logan’s bed, and the 1 time he does something about it.
Notes: this falls somewhere in between “which could mean nothing” and “we can fix each other” 🫡 (written with a mix of X1 & X2 logan!)
Your heart, despite always being alive and beating, sometimes wakes up before you.
You can feel it before your eyes even have a chance to open. It jolts your sleep-ridden body and collapses your lungs without giving your brain a chance to fight against it. Muscles and limbs feel lifeless and detached from your body, shaking from the sleep that your heart knows wasn’t completely dreamless.
You kick the blankets off of yourself and sit up in a panic, trying to regain some control of your sudden erratic breaths while bringing a lethargic hand to your heaving chest in hopes to ground yourself. It never works.
Maybe your ribs are shrinking and squeezing your lungs, making you delirious from the lack of oxygen, but you know that’s not the case. Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed and broken into a million tiny pieces.
No part of your body feels real, yet you keep your hand on your chest as firmly as you can, trying to focus on controlling the pounding of your heart that’s working so hard with each beat that it hurts. 
“Fuck. Fuck,” you choke out, feeling the tears finally breach and roll down your cheeks as your nervous system catches up to what’s happening.
 Panic. It’s all panic.
You can’t do anything but sit there and let the tears hit the freshly-washed fitted sheet on your bed. So you let it happen. Nothing can stop it.
Trauma is such a fickle thing. One moment you’re fine, and then the next, your heart is screaming at you and forcing your body to process something at 4 a.m. on a random Friday when all you wanted was some goddamn sleep.
There is no choice. Your mind doesn’t give you one.
The tremors subside slowly after a few minutes, giving you the feeling back to your arms and legs, albeit minimal.
You slide to sit at the edge of your bed, resting an elbow on your thigh and setting your chin into your palm with a defeated, yet shaky, huff. 
You look to your window and see that the sun hasn’t even started to rise yet. You’ll be up for the rest of the foreseeable morning, but there’s not much to do so early besides wander aimlessly and think…then think some more. 
You’re confident the professor isn’t even awake at this hour, which says enough about your state. You would typically go visit Storm for some comfort, but she’s been gone fuck-knows-where with Hank and Scott until Sunday at the latest. Thanks, Charles.
A questionable, and probably manic, decision comes to mind. One that’s only two doors down, one over from Storm.
Your impulsive feet make up your mind for you. The cold hardwood floor shocking you further into consciousness as if your heart didn’t do a good enough job.
You tiptoe a couple steps down the hall, forcing yourself to turn and face the large wooden door when you reach it. You just stand there staring at it, unknocking, analyzing the wood grains, suddenly very interested in what type of wood it is and what stain was used to—
“Uh. Are you okay?”
You refocus your eyes onto the man now standing in front of you in the doorway, adorning a barely-zipped school hoodie and black sweats.
“Huh?” You blink a few times, disoriented.
Logan quirks a brow, looking you up and down cautiously. “Are you okay?” He asks again, offering a look of concern—or maybe confusion—that you haven’t seen often. A look that’s never needed to be directed towards you.
You come back to yourself. “But—I…didn’t knock,” you respond, looking equally as confused as him as you point to the door. 
He leans against the edge of the door, face softening. “I could smell you before you passed Storm’s room,” he clarifies, a hint of reluctance in his tone. Oh. 
You feel like a child who has just gained awareness, all too conscious of your situation.
“You’re…awake?” Is all you manage despite probably needing to say much more than that to explain just why exactly you’re standing outside Logan’s room at 4 a.m.
“So are you,” he counters with a curious look. “So let me ask again. Are you okay?” He locks his eyes on yours, probably in hopes to understand why the fuck you’re outside his room at 4 a.m.
“I’m not sure how to answer that,” you say, and it’s the truth. 
You should probably be embarrassed. You show up at Logan’s door unannounced, dressed in a flimsy shirt and matching sweats—thanks, Charles—that can’t fully hide the remaining quivers throughout your body.
Logan pulls his lips together at your admission. You can almost see the wheels turning in his head trying to figure you out.
“Can’t sleep?” He questions, but he knows he’s right.
“Yeah.” You don’t know why you’re making it Logan’s problem, though. Sure, he happens to be awake, but maybe this is all too personal to push on the guy who’s seemingly all pride and no solicitude most of the time.
It’s not that he’s not a good, nice guy, but you don’t know how you would define your relationship, or lack of.
You know each other well enough from existing in the same space over the past couple months, being part of the same “team”, but it’s nothing to call a close friendship like you and Storm. He’s a bit of a rare species in the mansion, not really lingering around.
He cocks his head in a half shrug, the soft points in his hair broken by sleep shake gently with the movement.
“I don’t think I can help you,” he says wearily. “I’m no better. Clearly.” He gestures between you, drawing attention to the fact that you’re both awake. The helpless cannot help the helpless.
“Oh—no, I’m not looking for help. I think I’m beyond that at this point,” you laugh but stop yourself short when Logan doesn’t follow. Tough crowd.
“I, uh, don’t actually know what I’m looking for,” you offer.
You knit your brows together in thought, still wondering why the fuck you’re here. Comfort? Entertainment? Some other unknown third thing?
“I’m not really used to Storm being gone for so long,” you admit. “I just feel…all over the place, I guess.”
Logan considers your vulnerability for a beat, eyes flicking to yours. “I can hear you sometimes,” he says, a knowing—almost sympathetic—look on his face. “We have the same problem.”
You go cold, any expression you had on your face sliding away. You wish the floor could swallow you right now. You know things have been getting worse recently, but you didn’t think anyone could hear that fact. Maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise from someone who could smell you from down the hallway.
He steps back, pulling his door open further. An invitation.
You don’t move right away. Could this be a false awakening? You’re not sure what you expected when you came to his door, but you also didn’t expect him to open it without you knocking, so you have to suspend disbelief for now. You figured he’d offer a few words of advice and dismiss you, or maybe even tell you to fuck off, but he opened his door wider for you. But you didn’t exactly think any of it through in the first place anyway.
You force your feet to carry you into Logan’s room. It’s not much different from yours; scarce belongings, minimal decor, a small work desk, brown curtains that are drawn back, and a bed. 
“Were you, uh…sleeping before I came?” You sit on the unmade bed, nothing noticeably different from it compared to yours.
He shuts the door quietly, moving to the small desk across the room and filing some scattered papers together neatly.
“Trying to,” he says, keeping his gaze on the desk.
Fucking duh. “Sorry if I disturbed you,” you wince to yourself. 
You see him briefly shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I had to get up anyway.” His voice is still gravelly from sleep.
It feels like you’re invading his space. But he invited you in. How many others have had the opportunity to be in here? Probably too many. There’s nothing to make this special.
“I’m fucking exhausted,” you sigh, flopping back on his bed defeated. Simply overwhelmed with the uncontrollable repercussions of your mutation.
“Try to sleep. If you want,” he offers, moving to the edge of the bed. “It’s easier said than done, but I have to meet with Charles in an hour.” It’s gruff, but he’s sincere.  
Maybe the professor is awake after all.
You roll your head to the side to look at him. Was he really offering for you to stay in his bed?
“Oh, wow…uh, sure.” It comes off as more of a question, but he quirks his brows in acknowledgment, turning back to the desk and collecting a handful of other miscellaneous papers.
“I have to head downstairs and take care of some things. Stay as long as you need,” he says, zipping his sweater the rest of the way up. Thank God in heaven.
A shy “thanks” is all you manage as you situate yourself on the bed.
Is this fucking weird? You could name a handful of others in the mansion right this second that would kill without hesitation to be where you are. They’d probably kill you specifically to get it. It’s not much of a secret that Logan is the subject of almost all students’ desires. He knows it, too. 
“See you later,” he adds, his lips forming the slightest hint of a caring smile as he sees himself out. You throw one back before the door clicks shut.
Should you be offended that he didn’t stay? That he left so quickly? No, no, he can’t. He couldn’t. Charles is expecting him. The timing is just horrid. But now you’re just…alone…in Logan’s room, expected to sleep because of a random act of kindness in his heart.
Lying in his bed instead of yours is an odd sensation. The sheets and mattress are exactly the same, the pillows are just as fluffy, yet it feels unalike. 
You flop your head on his pillow, tugging the blankets up to your chin. Your fingers graze something by your hip as you settle in, making you push the blanket back down. Leaning over, you see three puncture marks in the mattress, fraying the bedsheet material into feather-soft strands around the deep holes.
Your eyes widen, remembering his words before he invited you in: “We have the same problem.”
Part of your heart fractures for the second time today. Your eyes cross over to the other side of you, seeing a matching set of holes just below the pillow. It’s suddenly easy to understand why no one besides him has been seen coming and going from this room in a while. One day, things just seemed to change. 
Maybe his act of kindness was an act of mercy. Trauma will always find you, and it will make sure you feel it until you either destroy it or it destroys you.
Even the Wolverine isn’t an exception. 
━━━━ ● ━━━━
The gold liquid is gone from the glass as quickly as it was poured.
Your throat clenches and protests the swallow as you try to suppress the urge to gag. You gently set the shot glass back on the counter, watching Storm chase with a piece of lime that does nothing to help the puckered face she makes from the tequila. 
“No more, no more. I can’t.” Your arms anchor you to the counter to stop yourself from swaying too much.
Storm nods, still fighting off the sourness with furrowed brows and a scrunched nose. You giggle at her when she quickly screws the cap back on the bottle, sliding it out of reach.
“You’re a bad influence,” she scolds as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“No—I’m under the influence,” you counter, a playful smile on your lips. “There’s a difference. You still have your own free will.”
Storm rolls her eyes so hard you only see the whites of them. “We have training tomorrow,” she slurs. “Charles will not be happy if we show up half-conscious.” She rounds the counter to you, grabbing your shoulders for stability, and you do the same.
“He’ll be lucky if we show up at all,” you mumble. 
The dim kitchen lighting embraces the two of you, the rest of the mansion blanketed in darkness with everyone fast asleep—like you both should be.
You close your eyes with a roll of your neck, more giggles falling through your lips as you clumsily grab onto Storm and rock and sway together for a moment, the alcohol quickly catching up to your motor skills. It feels like you’re spinning through time and space, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel fucking euphoric. At this rate, neither of you will be able to make it back to your rooms.
“Am I interrupting something?”
You lose a bit of your balance as you try to find the resonant voice, eyes shooting open. Storm unintentionally startles and stumbles away from you, white hair also jumping from the excitement.
You grab onto the counter again, sucking in a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t do that,” you growl through your teeth, a hand on your chest as you try to calm yourself.
“Don’t do what? Come to the shared kitchen to grab a drink?” Logan huffs a laugh, an amused smile creeps to his lips as he takes in your drunk and shaken state from the entryway.
“Doesn’t anyone sleep in this place?” He mumbles to himself.
“And with that, I’m done for the night,” Storm chuckles, fixing her hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her eyes lock intensely on yours, index finger firmly poking the middle of your chest to make her point for you to show up to training very clear.
“See you, Logan,” she dismisses, stumbling as she passes him.
Logan shakes his head, still smiling. He steps to the fridge, opening the double doors and plucking a bottle of soda from the bottom shelf. No alcohol is readily available in the communal fridge because, after all, you’re all in a school full of kids, so Storm had to get creative; Scott will be missing a rather large bottle from the now not-so-secret stash in his room.
As the alcohol continues to settle in you, you feel more and more lightheaded as it brings you to a new level of euphoria again. You only know this because watching Logan pop the cap of his drink with mindless ease feels a little more exciting than it would be if you were sober. But you’re not sober, and that’s the problem.
“Not gonna follow Storm?” He asks, taking a generous sip from the bottle as he casually places his free hand on the counter to lean on across from you.
A tight smile forms, mostly to yourself. “I don’t think I can make it down the hall,” you laugh in embarrassment. Maybe that last shot was one too many, and it’s not even fully done working its magic yet.
Logan raises a brow. “Want some help?” There’s no judgement in his tone like you expect. Then again, you don’t know what the fuck to expect from him.
Your already half-closed eyes, blurry and unfocused, meet his hazel ones in interest. Another favour?
It’s been two weeks since he let you sleep off the nightmares in his bed. Two weeks since you learned he’s burdened with them, too. You traced the holes in the mattress over and over before you eventually fell asleep, wondering what—or who—could have hurt him so badly. He plays it off cool; you wouldn’t suspect anything from talking to him. The same could probably be said about you.
“I didn’t know wolverine’s were chivalrous,” you tease.
The yellow hue of the lights dance over the quaffed points in his hair, making them appear sharper than usual. You would never admit it, especially to him, but you adore them. They give him an absurd amount of character that you’d expect a guy like him to not care about. 
You’re not exactly complaining about the fitting grey tank-top he has on either.
“Not overly,” he plays along, taking another mouthful of the fizzy drink. “I like to think I’m special,” he says quieter.
“Maybe you are,” you say as you try and straighten yourself to see if you can stand unassisted.
The world tilts as you stand to your full height, eyes rolling into your head from the wave of dizziness. “Wow, okay,” you say to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the spinning. How many shots did you have again?
A warm hand presses between your shoulders. “Woah, nice and easy. Nice and easy.” Logan appears by your side to steady you, other hand grabbing your elbow to pull you straight. You wobble in his grip, letting him guide your useless, alcohol-ridden body.
His hand on your back rubs a few small, comforting circles as you work to regain your bearings. He watches your expressions intently, looking for the right moment to get you moving back to your room safe and sound.
Your arm crosses over your body out of instinct to grab the hand he has on your elbow for extra support.
“Are you okay?” He asks. He seems to ask you that a lot.
You lean into him, your shoulder to his chest, and you can feel the blackout creeping up on you like humidity from a thunderstorm—it’s usually too late to do anything once you notice it. 
“I drank a lot,” you laugh deeply, rolling your head onto his shoulder to look up at him.
He looks so much more delicate under the ambient lights—his usual defined features have shifted and melted him into someone that doesn’t look like they should be a feared animal out in the world.
Logan all but cradles you, that same look of concern crossing his features from the night you went to his door. The only difference is that you’ve had a generous amount of tequila—and are currently being kept alert by the hot touch of his hands. That’s new.
“Can you walk?” He holds your squinty eye contact, probably searching for any signs of a coherent thought behind the blissful expression on your face. “Or will I have to carry you?” He muses, a hint of a smile crosses his lips as his hand moves up to gently rub over your shoulders. 
Drunk you likes the sound of anything relating to Logan keeping his hands on you right now. You wonder what sober you would think.
“I’m not gonna tell you no, but it feels like I’m floating in a bubble that won’t stop spinning,” you hum as you let the sensation consume your senses. “I might fly away.” You dip your head back off of his shoulder in amusement as you laugh again. 
“Yeah, you’re fucked up,” he mumbles lovingly. Just like anyone else who’s concerned for your well-being would. 
“Hey, kitty cat—I’m perfectly buzzed,” you emphasize the teasing nickname, narrowing your eyes at him sternly as you bring your gaze back to his in defence.
“‘Kitty cat’? Really?” He snorts. “I think you’re past your bedtime by three drinks,” he remarks back with equal levity.
“Then take me to bed if you’re so concerned,” you sigh dramatically, going limp in his arms to make your point. 
Truthfully, you’re probably past your bedtime by five shots. But he doesn’t need to know that. You just know that you can’t control your limbs like you were able to ten minutes ago.
“Maybe I will.” You don’t see it, but he does his quick little eye roll that you’ve seen pointed towards Scott too many times. 
He slides the hand on your elbow down to the backs of your knees, pulling you up off the floor and into his chest as you fall into the arm that was rubbing your back. 
Oh, so it’s gonna be like that. 
An excited—or maybe shocked—noise escapes your mouth as he adjusts you in his arms. You extend your right arm up and over his shoulder to hug his neck and keep yourself stable.
The trip to your room isn’t one that should take long, but each sway from Logan’s steps goes straight to your stomach in waves of queasiness. It feels like forever before you feel him bend awkwardly to turn your doorknob.
You’re fighting to keep yourself conscious the entire time, not wanting to regret missing the feeling of being in his arms.
The room is only lit by the silver moonlight creeping through the window. It’s hard to distinguish anything through your bleary eyes besides Logan’s look of determination to get you in your bed.
He leans down, shuffling you out of his arms and onto the mattress as swiftly as possible. The care of it all pokes at your heart. 
He silently goes around each corner of the bed adjusting the blankets. It may be dark, but the moonlight highlights the peaks of his shoulders as he moves. Your eyes might be involuntarily half-shut, but that doesn’t stop you from staring.
You’re now probably no better than every other mutant in this school.
“Logan,” you start before you can fully process the foolish thing you’re about to say next.
He rounds the bed back to the side you’re huddled on, looking down on you. “Yeah?” The subtle jingle of his dog tag pierces the quiet that’s lingering in the room.
You part your lips to speak but the words die in your throat. They’re replaced by a flood of saliva that has you sitting up at a speed that shouldn’t be possible for someone as intoxicated as you. You cover your mouth with your hand, feeling your stomach churning and finally rejecting the tequila. 
You suddenly feel very awake.
“Hey, hey.” Logan squats down in front of you with his already permanently-furrowed brows pinched closer together than you’ve ever seen before, a hand coming to your shoulder in concern. “What—”
“Bathroom,” you mumble through your palm, eyes rolling shut at the nausea. 
He doesn’t say another word. He pulls you to your feet by your arms, walking behind you fiercely with his hands gripping your shoulders to guide you to the small bathroom across the room.  
You push the door open, falling to your knees in the darkness over the toilet as the mistakes from the night expel themselves from your body through rounds of coughing and gagging. He lingers in the doorway, keeping an eye on you but still giving you privacy.
“Fuck,” you cough, resting your warm forehead on your hand as you slump against the toilet. That definitely sobered you up fast.
Exhaustion hits you like a truck. “Logan…” you croak from your crumpled position on the tile floor. 
He steps in, bending down again to reach your height. You can barely make out the shadow of him in the fading moonlight.
“Just…help me back to bed,” you groan, reaching for his arm as you use the toilet seat to push yourself the rest of the way up. You stumble against him as you try to make it back through the doorway.
He guides you to the bed the same way he did to the bathroom—steering you from behind.
“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says as you settle back into bed, head hitting the pillow with a quiet thud. “Even though you did this to yourself.”
“Fuck off,” you groan.
You close your eyes, hearing his footsteps fade back toward the bathroom. You hear the tap run for a couple seconds before he’s next to you again, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Drink. All of it,” he says firmly, holding the cup out to you.
You sit back up slowly, no doubt lethargic, an unimpressed look on your face that earns you a raised brow that tells you there’s no room to object.
You finish the cup in four mouthfuls, handing it back to him. “Thanks.”
You fall back onto the pillow, no longer feeling like you’re travelling through space and time.
The clothes you’re in are close enough to pyjamas. There’s no sense in undressing in front of Logan, especially with what you were about to say to him before you were rudely interrupted by the consequences of your own actions.
He returns the cup to the bathroom and you pull the blanket over your waist as you hopefully settle in for the rest of the night. You owe him big time for this. The thought of just how exactly you’ll manage that fills you with anxiety.
You turn on your side, fingers sliding over the mattress with the movement. They graze familiar strands of feather-soft fabric by the pillow.
This is Logan’s room. Are you just that drunk that you couldn’t tell the difference when he brought you in? Or are your rooms just that similar to each other?
You dip a finger in one of the three holes, hearing the bathroom door click shut as Logan makes his way back. 
“Why am I in your bed?” You see him rustling through some drawers of clothing by the small desk, but he stops when you finish your question.
“You can’t take care of yourself tonight,” he says. “You’re too drunk.” He pulls the grey tank-top off, stuffing it in one of the drawers and shutting it.
You sit up at that, head still foggy and tipsy, watching him move to the foot of the bed across from you. You try to focus your eyes on anything but his bare chest and the dark hair that adorns it and trails down past the waistband of his sweats. His hair is somehow even more wild from mindlessly pulling the tank-top over his head.
“Ah. I was gonna ask you to stay anyway,” you reveal, almost whispering the bold confession.
You were planning to ask before the tequila decided to make another appearance, but maybe doing it this way isn’t so bad either. He did all the heavy-lifting.
A modest, tight-lipped smile graces his lips. “I think you still have some tequila to sleep off.”
Whether or not you still have some shots in your system, what you feel and want right now is real. It’s not influenced by anything besides some mild andronitis created by the fact that you share a common struggle.
“Is it…safe? To share a bed?” The most coherent thought you’ve had all night makes him stiffen from your sudden nervous tone. Your body could easily replace the mattress and become a new home for the deep punctures. 
Your eyelids have been fighting against being pulled shut by alcohol-induced drowsiness, yet your eyes are wider than they’ve been all night in this moment.
You’re sat right in the middle of the bed and Logan comes around to the right, sitting on the edge of the mattress to come down to your level.
“You’re just gonna have to trust me.” His eyes are imploring and apologetic all at once. He understands the prospect of even having you here in the first place.
You nod, sliding over to the left to give him more room. 
Logan wouldn’t put you in harms way, you reason with yourself. He wouldn’t risk potentially killing someone, especially a fellow mutant, if he wasn’t absolutely sure of his mental state. But you also don’t really know his demons.
You roll onto your right side, tugging the blanket up to your chin in comfort. “Why haven’t you been given a new mattress?” You ask as he turns to face you in the same position, his half of the blanket resting at his hip.
The bed dips significantly on his side, almost encouraging you to roll over against him.
“Forgot to ask,” he says quietly, running his right hand through his hair to push the shorter strands off his forehead.
From his tone you can decipher that he actually means “can’t be bothered.” It’s a devastating thing to imagine just how many he goes through, anyway. He probably doesn’t see the point in replacing something that will inevitably have the same fate as the others.
There has to be less than an arms length between you two. It’s a surreal situation to be in considering what you thought you knew about him. A recluse. Standoffish. Maybe it’s all a fluke and the alcohol is severely fucking with your perception of what’s actually happening.
“Thanks for everything,” you whisper as if someone else will overhear.
“Get some sleep,” he insists, rolling onto his back. You do the same.
You stare at the blank ceiling for a while, noticing the exact moment Logan falls asleep; his breathing grows slow and his body runs even hotter than before. 
You think about how he could wake at any moment, claws accidentally sliding right through your stomach from a nightmare or two. You imagine all the others that have been in your position—if they felt scared, if they even knew. 
He asked you to trust him, and that should be enough. 
There is a body full of secrets and hurt sleeping undisturbed next to you with the ability to withstand and regenerate from any physical injury, yet there’s something that hasn’t allowed the same to be done for his mind. 
━━━━
The bright amber sun hits your closed eyes through the window, making you roll your head away onto the other side of the cool pillow.
You want more sleep. Your head feels like a bag of bricks and your body feels like it got beat with them.
You stretch a leg out, gently grazing something solid with your foot. Your eyes shoot open, the night coming back to you as you drift into consciousness. Logan. 
You shoot up, bouncing a little from the momentum.
Logan startles next to you, clearly interrupted from a deep sleep. “What the fuck…” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face, not seeming interested in making a move to sit up with you.
“What time is it?” Your eyes bounce around the room looking for a clock.
He grunts, reaching for a watch on the nightstand. “Seven-forty.”
You needed to be in the Danger Room for 7 o’clock.
“Fuck!” You rip the blanket off, almost tripping as you run to the bathroom.
Logan also wants to roll back over and go back to sleep, but he knows he won’t be able to. He doesn’t work like that. So he just lays there, listening to you swear and make a mess of his bathroom as the clattering of fuck-knows-what fills the room. 
The surprise of how well he slept makes him feel uneasy. Although it definitely wasn’t eight hours, it was uninterrupted. He doesn’t want to credit that to you, though. He wants to believe that he’s getting better overall, and maybe he is, so he can’t offer you any flattery in his mind.
Another distant “fuck” escapes the bathroom, pulling him out of his thoughts. You exit a few minutes later, as refreshed and presentable as you could get yourself, and the sight of Logan still in bed makes something in you ache for another moment of feeling him care and tend to you. Maybe that’s your hangover talking.
“Thanks again. I’ll see you around,” you say hurriedly, offering an apologetic smile as you turn the doorknob to leave.
“Good luck with Charles.” It’s a genuine advisory. Fuck. You’ll be so incredibly lucky if he doesn’t give you more than a stern lecture in front of everyone.
You take a deep breath in and slip out of Logan’s room. There’s not a single cut, mark, or scratch on you, just like he promised.
━━━━ ● ━━━━
“I was told it’ll take a day to fix,” Storm explains with a shrug. “You’ll have to find somewhere or someone to room with until tomorrow. Jean already offered to have me stay with her.” A contrite look passes over her face.
You stand outside your rooms, staring in at the remnants of the mess caused by two terrakinetic kids fucking around in the courtyard when they weren’t supposed to be. They somehow managed to throw, or launch, sizeable tree branches right through each of your windows. Of course it wasn’t on purpose, but the Danger Room exists for a reason—to avoid mishaps like this. 
Shards of glass and fragments of wood splatter your floors. The branches are hanging half-way out both of your windows, caught on the window sills and bobbing in the evening summer wind. The kids are extremely fortunate that neither of you were in your rooms when it happened.
“It’s fine. It’s just one night,” you sigh, rubbing your eyes in frustration. You don’t love how quickly your mind picks out who to go to. It’s already nearing 11 p.m., so you have to work fast. 
Storm squeezes your shoulder in comfort. “The living room is always free,” she suggests with a remorseful smile.
But you don’t want the living room. Stiff couches mixed with students clamouring and passing by at the crack of dawn isn’t exactly a recipe for a good nights rest. As if you usually get one, anyway.
“Not a fucking chance,” you laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you say again, dismissing her worries. You wish her goodnight when she steps by you to head towards Jean’s room at the very end of the hall.
You glare at the mess in your room, not daring to step in. The amount of shattered glass everywhere makes the floor look like a body of water from the reflections of the pale moonlight bouncing and refracting off of the jagged shards.
“Fuck,” you spit through your teeth, solely to yourself.
Not even a full week after Logan saw you at your worst, you’re going to go back and ask for the left side of his bed. Shameless.
You don’t have much of a choice; you’re not comfortable having it be anyone else. It’s only because Logan saw you at your worst that you feel he’s the most logical choice. Already having shared a bed with him this week may also have some weight in your decision.  
You take the few self-assured steps to his room, once again standing in front of his door. This time you feel more confident in approaching the Wolverine in his den.
You knock three times, the piercing sound echoing through the hall.
“You start to miss me or what?” A bare chest enters your view. You note the dog tag hanging from his neck again before you find his unyielding gaze full of ambiguity, wondering why you’re here. Again.
You blink at him slowly in hilarity. “Ha, funny. Can I stay with you tonight?” You ask flatly, not thrilled with the situation, but not completely displeased with being here now. “My window—”
“I know what happened,” he interrupts. “Figured you’d go for the couch in the living room.” He looks at you more pointedly with teasing suspicion. 
“I think you know no one would ever willingly choose to sleep out there,” you reason, running a hand over your face in both shame and defeat.
He makes a face that tells you “touché” and you smirk in satisfaction. “If you don’t mind giving up half of your bed again, I would really appreciate it. I promise I’m not trying to make this a habit,” you sigh. Spending the night in Logan’s bed three times in the past month has to be a record for anyone recently. 
“I don’t think it would be a bad habit,” he argues. Oh. “C’mon.” He gives a jerk of his head to allow you in, his tufts of his hair bristling with the quick movement.
“Thanks,” you squeak. He wants you here? 
He shuts the door behind you, following you to the bed that’s clearly already had him in it. The blanket rests in waves on the mattress that remind you of just how human Logan is despite his reputation and image.
“Do you have an early morning?” You ask, slipping under the blanket.
“No. Charles was feeling nice for once,” he raises his tone sarcastically to rag on Charles’ judgement, which has clearly been a much needed one before now.
“Not an early bird?” You roll onto your right side like last time, facing him as he settles on his back with a deep breath. The bed sinks in again where he lays, your body wanting to give in to the laws of gravity and fall into him.
“Fuck no,” he laughs lightly, eyes crinkling around the corners. It’s self-deprecating, but it’s still a genuine laugh. The condescension from it lingers in the air, all directed at himself in a way that tells you he’s thinking about how inconceivably fucked up he is.
The last time he had a decent sleep was when you were drunk in his bed a few days ago.
“People like us don’t usually get the pleasure of a full eight hours,” he notes, sliding his gaze to yours for a fraction of a second.
He props an arm behind his head, the other resting on his chest and idly twisting the dog tag between his fingers. You watch the thin piece of steel slide and flip easily, the chain tinkling with every movement.
People like us.
“You mean mutants,” you state. You see his jaw tense in what little light there is from the half-moon tonight.
You see his brows pull together. “Yeah.” He has a point.
You think about the mutants you know, how they all have some horrific story about their gifts or family, or both. How they either were shamed by society or experimented on like rats. 
The scenarios are endless. If you can think of it, some mutant has probably lived it.
Your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. You and Logan are not isolated or special cases, but you’ve already shared a moment of vulnerability with him when you came to his door all those weeks ago seeking solace for the same thing he fights with: the inescapable ability of remembering.
You pull the blanket tighter against you. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me.” 
He turns his head to you, confusion written on his face. “What?” He stops toying with the dog tag.
“Your claws. I trust you.” You didn’t feel like you were in immediate danger that first night, but you want to reassure him anyway. Or maybe you’re reassuring yourself. 
He hasn’t had to say a single word for you to know his nightmares trigger something instinctive and combative that’s been hardwired into his DNA. In this case, it’s his claws needing to find a home in his mattresses, where another body could potentially lay one night. Like yours is right now.
You noticed the lack of holes in this mattress when you first got to the bed. Maybe you mentioning them last time was enough for him to finally request a new one.
Logan knows he shouldn’t make promises he doesn’t know he’ll be able to keep, but he wants to keep you here tonight, so he improvises. He abandons the dog tag between his fingers completely, turning onto his side and reaching to find your hand under the blanket. You meet him halfway, sliding your fingers between his as your palms lay flat on the bed.
A smile tugs at your lips for a moment. He watches your interlinked fingers, observing the size difference, wondering if he really just did that—and why. 
You assume it’s his way of saying “thank you” for your trust when you probably shouldn’t be putting that much into him.
“Does it hurt?” You whisper, pulling your fingers out from his just enough to caress the divets between his knuckles that conceal the claws.
He knows what you’re asking. “Every time.” He softly pushes his fingers back into yours, squeezing a little. 
There’s a deadly stillness in the room despite his window being cracked. You both know you’re one in the same in a way, and that’s a connection that Logan hasn’t let himself experience. Not everyone likes looking in a mirror.
To be truly seen by someone, wholly, without judgement or fear, is what he deserves. 
“What are you?” He asks, rubbing his index finger back and forth along the top of your hand. “Telekinetic? Psychic?” His curious voice grows quiet, hazel eyes fascinated with you and your lack of a physical mutation, at least nothing that he can see.
It never occurred to you that he didn’t know your mutation, or that you’ve never told him. It was never needed, but it seems unfair that you know about his when he wasn’t the one who told you.
“Ha, close.” Your eyes twinkle as you notice how intently he’s listening. “Psychometric,” you correct, watching his forehead crease.
“Sounds like math,” he quips, readjusting his head on the pillow. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat he’s putting off.
You laugh quietly. “No, it’s extrasensory perception. It lets me see the history of any object or person I touch, but only if I accept the energy,” you explain.
You watch his eyes narrow and you know what he’s thinking, so you quickly interject as he begins to pull his hand out from yours. “I need to touch a pulse point to be able to see anything,” you reassure, feeling his fingers slide back against yours. “The heart remembers everything,” you clarify.
The catch? The person’s memories and past stay with you after you see them. It’s become hard to distinguish what memories are yours or someone else’s. They all become intertwined. Good or bad, violent or gentle. You see it all, and then it’s part of you. Forever.
“I haven’t looked. I promise.” 
“Good. You don’t need to see that shit,” he huffs, eyes wandering over your face. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for, but he’s a little startled for the first time in a while.
“I’m sure I’ve seen it all,” you state. It’s probably not far off from the truth. Your gift came when you were all too young, and plenty of time has passed since then for you to rack up this amount of damage from near-strangers and their lives.
“No, you haven’t.” A sure expression passes over him, shaking his head as best as he can against the pillow. 
“Then I’ll count myself lucky,” you say softly. You have no idea what Logan has experienced, but his demeanor makes you want to stay curious. Not everything needs to be known, and you’re definitely not entitled to it.
A faint smile appears on his lips, then it’s gone just as quick. “Get some sleep,” he rasps. He turns onto his back and his hand abandons yours. 
It’s a complete repeat of last time.
Something twinges in your heart, and you don’t like it. What exactly had you expected from Logan? He’s just doing you a courtesy by letting you stay here for the night. Nothing more. And that’s what you should expect: nothing.
The hum of crickets outside eventually lulls you into a dead sleep. It’s heavy and deep, not a single muscle twitching in your body. Logan breathes steadily next to you, a hand on his chest as the occasional snore fills the air.
From above you two might look like you’re transient, only here in this moment for a short time. And, realistically, you are. 
━━━━
Logan was no where to be seen by the time you woke up, and you made quick work to get out of his room. It always feel wrong to be in someone’s space when they aren’t there.
Just like Storm said, the windows in your rooms were fixed the next day. It looks as though nothing even happened.
“Thank fuck,” you mumble to yourself as you step back into your room.
If you ever have to spend another night in Logan’s bed, you might as well wear a shirt that says “yes, we’re fucking!”, even if it isn’t true. You could deny it all you want, but it won’t stop what students would say. Nothing gets past them, even if it’s behind a closed door.
━━━━ ● ━━━━
“Are you fucking Logan?”
You almost swallow your tongue. “Sorry?” Your brows shoot up in surprise, eyes round in disbelief.
“Are you guys sleeping together?” Storm casually asks as she flicks through the T.V. channels, glancing over to you from her spot on the couch.
You’re sat comfortably in an arm chair, suddenly no longer caring what channel she decides on. “Why would you think that?” Technically you were sleeping together, but not like that. It may never happen again, no matter how badly you want it to.
“Things travel fast around here,” she deflects with a cheeky smile. “And, you know, Logan is…Logan.” She shrugs.
You don’t even know what to say to that. Is there a right or wrong answer?
“It wasn’t like that,” you grumble. “He was doing me a favour. As a friend.” It hasn’t even been a full day since he let you stay with him while pieces of your window laid on your floor, and people are already convinced you’re fucking. 
You haven’t even managed a chaste kiss, despite how much as you want to, never mind his dick being balls deep in you.
“Right.” She emphasizes the word, not convinced. Or just pushing your buttons because she can. 
You roll your eyes. “If anything was happening, you’d be the first to know,” you point out. 
She looks back over to you. “I know,” she says with another, more sincere, smile. “You two would be cute, though.” 
You give her some side-eye, not quite sure if you disagree entirely with that statement. Whatever happens, happens. Logan is not something you can control or influence. He does what—and who—he wants, when he wants. 
━━━━
A bolt of lightening strikes you. You gasp, then release a choked cry, eyes flying open as you claw at your chest in terror.
Your throat tightens and you break out in a cold sweat as you sit up. The soft blanket around you feels constricting. Sporadic and short breaths make you heave as your body registers the horrors in your subconscious. 
There was never any lighting. That’s just what the pain feels like.
The muscles in your shoulders and neck tense from your panicked state as your heart struggles to keep a normal rhythm. You yank the blanket off, feeling weak from fear and the onset of tremors. Your whole body gives up on itself as you sob through broken exhales. Your legs have gone cold, lungs shrinking inch by inch with every passing minute. 
You crawl to the edge of your bed, wanting to just get out and leave—the blanket. The bed. The room. Most of all, you want to escape your own mind.
You sink onto the floor when a foot touches the ground, and you realize walking isn’t in the cards right now. You’re shaking too badly to be able to physically move. All your strength is gone, robbed by your memories.
Balmy tears paint your face in determination, making sure no part of you is left untouched by this spell.
You screw your eyes shut, tears still slipping out with ease anyway. Leaning your back against the bed-frame, you curl into yourself and wrap your arms around your knees on the chilled hardwood.
You try to focus on your breathing to at least slow your heart down to a pace that doesn’t hurt.
Wounded cries rip their way out of you, interrupting the breaths you try to steady. A hand touches your arm and you yelp like an injured dog, flailing at the contact as your arms swing out from around your knees in shock.
“Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s me.” Strong hands quickly wrap around each of your wrists to stop your arms from thrashing.
You try to focus your eyes, blurred and stinging from tears, on the person kneeling closely in front of you.
“L-Logan…” you whisper, balling your fists to try and expel the shakes.
He looks like someone who shouldn’t be able to be concerned about another person, yet the look on his face scares you. Brows pinched together in worry, eyes frantic, lips parted from heavy breaths. All because of you.
“It’s just me,” he hushes your cries. His thumbs stroke the undersides of your wrists tenderly, no doubt feeling your racing pulse. 
You feel disoriented. “Wh…how…” 
“I heard you,” he explains, watching you process everything. He drops your wrists when some recognition passes over your face.
“What do you need?” He follows your gaze as it wanders around the room, trying to keep you from spiralling further.
You look at him for a moment. He’s got his white tank-top on, the black sweats, and an intense need to help you written all over him. Fresh tears burn your cheeks as you come back into reality.
“I want it to fucking stop,” you weep, head falling into your hands in shame.
You don’t want him to see you like this, even though it’s a commonality between you two. It’s too intimate. You’d take him seeing you blackout drunk everyday of the year over this.
Then you do remember that it has stopped. Each time in Logan’s bed. There was silence. Peace. For the whole night. For both of you.
“Tell me what you need,” he says firmly, angling his head down to keep your eyes on him, desperately wanting an answer.
“You.” You suck in an agonizing breath to try and collect yourself.
He doesn’t flinch like you expect him to. If anything, his eyes become more pensive, clearly considering something. Then he shakes his head in wariness.
“C’mon. Let’s get you out of here,” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper. The only sound echoing in the room is your wobbly breathes, your body jerking with each one as you enter the aftermath and begin to go slack.
An arm slides behind your back, his hand grabbing ahold of your side while he pulls your legs over his other arm, picking you up off the floor.
He cradles you against him just like he did when you were drunk, carrying you out of your room.
He left your door open when he came in, and you hope no students heard or saw anything. He tilts to grab the doorknob, shutting it without a sound.
You wipe and rub at your eyes as Logan takes a few steps down the hall, quickly getting to where he needs to go when you feel him lean for his doorknob.
You’re sure a few rogue, leftover tears fall onto his shirt before he manages to sit on his bed lightly, you still curled tightly in his arms. 
His hand pushes on your back for you to sit upright on his lap. “Face me,” he encourages, holding onto your sides as you twist around, bending your legs to slide over his thighs and straddle him loosely. 
You look down at him, he looks up at you, feeling the quivers in your body dissipate as you melt further into his lap. A fondness crosses over both of your tired faces. He rests his arms over your thighs, warm hands linking behind your back as you do the same around his neck. 
It’s nothing provocative or seductive. All you can feel is the care and concern rolling off of him in suffocating waves. He wants you to feel safe, and if that means overrunning your senses with his presence, then that’s what he’ll do.
“Got anything to say?” He murmurs, the fallen strands of hair around the edges of his forehead bristle with each move of his head. The rest of his hair fails to fully resemble the cat-like ears he had earlier in the day. 
What does he want to hear? 
You let your head hang a little, your nose almost brushing his. “I have nothing to say,” you assert, fidgeting with the chain of his dog tag at the nape of his neck. 
You don’t necessarily feel embarrassed about him seeing you in such a helpless state, but you don’t want to simply unload your shit on him. So, in turn, you have nothing to say.
“Bullshit.” He almost rolls his eyes. There’s no real threat of him forcing you to say anything behind it. He won’t pry, but he doesn’t believe you.
An offended look overcomes your face, and you almost pull away. You don’t want to feel the humiliation of elaborating on just why exactly you said you needed him in this moment out of everything else. 
“I just…” You roll your lips together in thought, measuring the words you could say but won’t. “Want to sleep. Here,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna go back.” You deflate in his arms, voice wobbly. 
It’s already who-knows what time, and you need to pacify your wired nervous system; Logan simply holding you has already helped with that more than you want to admit.
His mouth quirks up briefly at that. “What happened to not wanting to make that a habit?” His eyes soften as his arms retract from around your sides, letting you slip easily onto his bed from his lap in a moment of calm, or relief.
Habit, if not resisted, soon becomes necessity.
“Special circumstances,” you reason, already pulling the blanket over you while he keeps his place at the edge of the bed, observing you with amusement.
“Seems like you get into those a lot,” he notes, pushing himself off the mattress.
He steps around to the other side—his designated spot—and slips the tank-top off, letting it drop to the floor. You’re not trying to be a freak, but you watch the whole thing.
The flex of his arms and shoulders are out of your mind as fast as they entered as you watch him hook his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats and pull them downright in front of you, not even turning around or to the side to try and conceal himself.
Your eyes widen, then you reel in your thoughts before they get lost at sea. No one who is sane fucking sleeps in sweatpants. Duh.
But didn’t he the last two times? It’s hard for you to remember, but you’d certainly recall if you were face-to-face with the outline of his di—
“It’s rude to stare, y’know.” Logan pulls his lips together, interrupting your thoughts. You try to not eyeball the bulge too hard, but it basically looked at you first. 
The snug briefs do little to hide anything. They hide nothing, actually.
You almost scoff, but the playfulness in his tone tells you he couldn’t give a shit. He probably likes it anyway. From what you know, he definitely does.
“Oh, yeah, like you’ve ever cared about modesty,” you throw back, averting your gaze to the ceiling anyway.
It’s not that he runs around the mansion naked, but he definitely isn’t shy about what he looks like or against showing some skin. You’ve seen and heard enough over the past few months.
You hear a stifled chuckle as he joins you under the blanket without a retort. He knows you’re right. He’s just glad you’re a little lively and alert.
“Will you be okay for the rest of the night?” He brings both hands behind his head on the pillow, propping himself up a little.
“I should be fine,” you say confidently. “The challenge will be getting back to sleep.” You laugh in exasperation. 
It’s always hard to calm down and get back to a place of tranquility after everything has settled with your mind. You’re pumped full of adrenaline and there’s not much that can curb something that persistent flowing through your body.
You haven’t found anything to help with it. Yet. 
“There’s not many people that’ll understand what you go through,” he starts, voice rough with fatigue. “But I do.”
You look to him, sliding an arm under your pillow as you turn on your side. “How do you…help it.” You’re not sure if you phrased that right. It feels crude to reduce something so complex to the likes of a common cold that has an array of over-the-counter solutions. 
“You don’t. It just has to run its course.” He looks to you, wanting to see your reaction. 
It wasn’t meant to be hurtful or insensitive, but he’s not going to lie to you and say that things can only get better and that the worst is over. Especially for mutants, that’s not always true.
Although you don’t know what Logan lives with every day and sleeps with every night, you do know that his capacity for empathy is still intact. Here you are in his bed after all, seeing and indulging in a side of him that many never will. 
You sigh lightly. “We’re quite the pair.” 
A comfortable half-smirk slips over his lips. “I think we’re just fucked up insomniacs,” he suggests with a breathy exhale that’s close enough to a laugh.
You wish you could slide a thumb over the pulse in his wrist and see what’s haunting him, just to understand what happened to the Wolverine, but you’ve learned that doing so usually isn’t worth the price you’ll pay after. If what’s in his head is horrific enough to cause him to go through a couple mattresses a month, then it won’t do you any good either.
“I sleep pretty good with you,” you offer, seeing how he raises a brow in doubt almost instantly.
He sleeps well with you, too. It kind of rattled him when he noticed a pattern of uninterrupted nights and you being by his side. Not a single mattress ruined on those nights.
“Try not to knee me in the stomach tonight,” he deflects with ease. He takes his hands out from behind his head, sliding his left arm under the pillow as he turns over onto his side and closes his eyes. Facing you.
You mentally smack yourself. Multiple times. You didn’t think you drifted that much when you slept. 
“No promises,” you mutter. You catch a small shake of his head before you let yourself join him in unconsciousness as you mirror each others lonely bodies.
━━━━
Your eyes ache—to open, to move, to touch. Enough crying will do that to you.Your eyelids are heavy, but there’s something else weighing down on you. 
A tired groan crawls from your throat as you try to place yourself for a moment. The morning sun is just beginning to shine too brightly for your liking, and you squish your face deeper into the pillow.
You’re still tipsy with sleep, lying flat on your stomach, but there’s something dense and hot resting over your back. 
You prop yourself up on your forearms, giving yourself a minute to wake up. You twist your hips around to sit yourself up, feeling the thing on your back slide down to your waist. 
The blanket pools around your hips, and you feel a hand reflexively squeeze over the meat of your hip in disapproval of your moving. Something in you clenches at the sensation of something invading the area with ease. A spot reserved for intimacy.
Your head quirks to your right, seeing Logan on his stomach with his right arm thrown over your midsection. 
You blink in surprise, staring at his sleeping body. His hair is sticking up every which way, his head half-off the pillow, his side of the blanket not even covering the curve of his ass anymore. It’s endearing to see the Wolverine in such a normal, human state.
But if someone were to walk in, it would look like you two spent the whole night fucking. A lot. That wakes you up a little more.
You peek over at the nightstand behind him and see the time blinking on his watch. It’s already 8 a.m. 
You rest a hand over his shoulder to gently guide his arm off of you, but you stop yourself. Instead, you lightly trace your fingers down his shoulders and upper back a couple times, occasionally scratching softly over the ridges of muscle.
A shiver quickly rolls through his upper body, but your touch doesn’t fully wake him. He knows it’s just you.
It’s the least you can do for him as a thanks for recovering your broken body from the floor of your room and bringing you here when he didn’t necessarily have to.
It almost feels like instinct to offer comforting gestures to him. There’s something inside you that just pulls to him. You want to be the one that can give him comfort and help him put himself back together. 
You want to be the only one.
━━━━ ● ━━━━
There’s a shadow that’s been following you around the mansion. 
As soon as you stepped out of Logan’s room that morning a few days ago, it started. 
This shadow likes to be nosy about what you’re doing. This shadow likes to be in your space. This shadow wants to be in your space. And he is.
No one has seen Logan out around the mansion this much, including you, and that’s how you noticed he’s basically been attached to your hip ever since he decided your back was a comfortable armrest. 
He’s always just there, like a stray cat begging for food or affection. There to entertain you, banter with you, indulge you, in any way he can, including now as you trail back inside the mansion well behind Storm from an evening walkabout in the garden.
“No smoking in the courtyard,” you sing as you pass him carelessly, not even offering a glance to him in interest. 
You like playing this game. Whatever it is. Constantly poking and prodding at each other to see what you can do to get the other to break in some way, no matter how slight. 
Your heart flutters and flips every time; maybe from the thrill of it all, maybe from the arousal you get from the tension. You hope he feels everything, too.
He turns his head to watch you cross into the entryway. “Blow me,” he throws back playfully through a thick puff of smoke, leaning against the brick wall with a cigar pinched between two fingers.
You suppress a chuckle, keeping your unwavering pace. “Yeah, you wish!” You yell over your shoulder. You know he hears you. He wouldn’t let himself miss it.
Logan smirks and shakes his head in amusement, always impressed with your quick rebuttals that occasionally tent his jeans. He takes one last drag out of spite before following your footsteps inside. 
You have become, by definition, friends…in a way. Even if you sorely cross the line into other territory more often than not. Sexual innuendos and friendly flirting can only go on for so long before the underlying intentions and meaning reflects real desires. 
It’s evolved into more than just borrowing his bed a couple times or helping each other out. It’s surpassed the fear of whatever habit you were afraid of forming from doing so. It’s become a dependency to get that adrenaline high from simply riling each other up.
You have an assumption that if you were to end up in Logan’s bed again, somehow, there will be a point of no return that you’ll be faced with. There aren’t many more excuses that can be used for explaining to yourselves why you’re together in bed before you have to recognize the truth.
That platonic line is being stretched too thin, and you’re not sure how much farther it can go.
━━━━ ● ━━━━
“How’ve you been sleeping?”
“Fine. You?”
“Could be better.” Logan hides his smirk, but you can hear it in his voice.
You narrow your eyes skeptically as he fishes around in the fruit bowl sitting in the middle of the kitchen island.
“How so?” You ask. Your legs swing leisurely as you sit upon the chilled countertop on his left, idly waiting for Storm to show up and go with you to training.
A smug, tight-lipped grin flashes across his face, a green apple rolling around in his palms before he puts it back. “You could be there,” he provokes, his eyes bright.
It’s your turn to raise a brow at him, but you can’t stop your smile. “Oh?”
He turns to you, tenderly grabbing the tops of your thighs and parting them slightly to stand between your legs.
This isn’t the first time he’s done this, and he knows it rouses you in all the right ways. But, neither of you will do anything about it. Not even a brief kiss.
“Come on,” he goads, planting his hands down next to your hips, bringing himself in closer as he bears his weight on his arms. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” He sways his head side to side to emphasize his point.
Fuck. That’s good. 
That may be exactly what you did for him, but it’s now a figure of speech for something else entirely. It’s almost impossible to argue against either way, as if you want to. This is what you’ve been patiently waiting for. 
You put your hands over his as you lean back a little to put some distance between you. “How sweet,” you hum.
His eyes flick from yours to your lips one too many times before you continue. “You start to miss me?” You tease as you lean forward again, echoing what he said to you the night your window got smashed in.
“Smart-ass,” he mutters as you laugh quietly. The tips of your noses barely graze each other as he steps in closer again. You’re almost at the same height like this. 
“Save me the left side,” you advise, bringing your hands to his shoulders as you fondle his white t-shirt between your fingers. You’re so close, and he’s already so warm against you just like this.
“Always do.”
━━━━
You want to rip your heart out of your chest from how hard it’s pounding against your ribs. It’s almost throwing you forward with each heavy beat.
Three resounding knocks fill the hallway as you shuffle on your feet, waiting for Logan to open the door.
It feels like you’re doing something bad. Something parents would warn their kids against. Something greatly envied.
Everything inside you feels on fire. Your thoughts, desires, anxiety, all jumbling together into one distorted state of mind and body.
“Ah, welcome back.” His sarcastic tone makes your face go hot. A satisfied smirk crosses his lips as he runs a hand through his shaggy, unstyled hair. 
You shake your head, pursing your lips. “Knock it off.” You gently shove at his bare chest. Misbehaviour already. But are you really surprised?
Logan grabs your wrist, delicately guiding you into his room. “You enjoy it,” he says lowly, quickly shutting the door as soon as you’re in. 
“Maybe,” you hum in response, pulling away from his grasp and seeking out your side of the bed. Logan follows closely behind, giving your ass a light smack in encouragement before he cuts away to his side while you jolt in shock, a stunned look on your face as you whip your head around to him across the bed.
“Oh, really?” You scoff. He’s biting back a smile, not moving until he knows what you’ll do next. He’s never gone that far before.
“I’m sorry, that was rude—how can I make it up to you?” He almost chokes on a laugh, pulling his dog tag back and forth along the chain while he considers you.
This Logan is very different from the one you were met with the first night he let you in his space. This one is attentive and exuberant, yet he hasn’t given you much up until this point right now. You’ve gotten way too comfortable with him without even doing anything to you. 
In this moment, he isn’t the brooding, animalistic Wolverine many see him as. He’s just Logan—for you. 
You watch him carefully, easing yourself onto the bed. “Get in the fucking bed,” you slap his side of the mattress with a thump of your palm. “And do what you promised earlier,” you stare pointedly at him.
He owes you that “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” favour he decided to pull out to get you here. 
“Mm, alright, alright,” he surrenders, a look of amusement still on his face as he kneels onto the bed. “I thought of a pretty good idea for it,” he says softly, crawling to sit next to you on top of the blanket as the bed-frame creaks with the added weight.
Your shoulders almost brush against each other. You shift, turning your body fully toward him. “Oh? Wh—woah!”
You squeal when his strong hands latch onto your sides, lifting you just enough to pull you over his legs to plant you on his lap. He leans back against the headboard, pulling on your thighs so you straddle him tightly. 
He looks devilish when you catch his gaze again, and you know what’s coming. What’s been coming. Your hands find their places on his shoulders, warm and taut, as his hands hold your hips. 
The bond between you will culminate tonight. It will be wrapped in a blanket and trapped between two alike souls that lie heart-to-heart in the dead of night. It will be perpetual.
The heat of him between your legs makes you restless. It’s just you, him, and the darkness in the quiet room you’ve become too familiar with.
“Logan…” you trail off bashfully when you feel something firm through his sweats poke against your cunt. It clearly doesn’t take much to excite him.
“Hm?” He takes you in for a split second, hands running from your hips up to your chest leisurely with a sharp inhale, not yet completely bothered by the fact that you have a shirt on. 
You suck in a shaky breath when your hips accidentally shift over his bulge from his hands pushing and pulling over you.
“What’s the idea?” Your voice wavers.
You know what it is. He knows that. You just want to hear him say it and fill the silence.
“Something I’ve wanted for a while,” he murmurs, eyes hyper-focused on you. 
Your fingers dance their way to the sides of his neck, brushing along the supple skin while you feel muscles and tendons flex with every slight movement. You subtly press the pad of your index finger against the pulse point right under his jaw, just to ground yourself and truly feel that Logan is there in front of you. 
His pulse is steady but hard, much like yours, and the prickle of energy festering against the finger almost makes it go numb from not accepting it into your body. 
“Show me, then.” You smile sweetly, leaning in closer while you tilt his head up with the hand under his jaw, your finger slipping from his pulse and caressing over the dense, coarse hair along his cheek.
Your noses bump while your lips part in anticipation. His eyes flutter as he falls into you and frantically claims your mouth in an unbreakable kiss.
The first kiss. Nothing could tear him from you in this moment.
Your hands cradle his cheeks, keeping him from pulling off too far. His hands scratch and paw at your back, trying to find a way to somehow get you closer against him.
It’s all a little messy, your lips mostly just mashing together without any rhyme or reason, but neither of you care. You only care about how electrifying it feels to finally have Logan and feel how perfectly connected you are together after all these nights. You go together like a key and its lock.
“Logan,” you pant when his mouth releases yours for a fraction of a breath. The seconds between kisses dwindle the more you take from each other.
Your thighs tense as he pulls half an inch away just to reconnect more crazed as his lips lock over your bottom one aimlessly. Something deep inside you trembles and aches.
He grunts, accidentally sucking the tip of your tongue briefly before slotting his lips back over yours in an apology. “Hold on,” he mumbles in a rush against your parted lips. He knows what you’re asking—or trying to ask. He snakes an arm up along your spine and wraps the other around your waist.
Then the world is tilting.
He drops you on your back on the bed from his lap, hovering over you as he distracts you with harsh but pleasing kisses and wet bites along your neck, settling his hips heavily between your thighs. You squirm and feel how bolts of arousal are making your cunt pulse involuntarily. 
Logan groans. “Fuck—I can smell it. I smell you.” He slowly grinds his hips into yours almost reflexively. He squeezes his eyes shut, and you tip your chin up to press a chaste kiss to his slick lips. 
“Taste…if you want to,” you propose, lightly scratching up and down his shoulders and arms, only enough to leave faint red lines for a couple seconds.
Logan’s eyes almost roll into the back of his head before he gives it a small shake, a conflicted look overtaking his face. “Of course I fucking want to, but—fuck—next time. I promise.” He swallows whatever you were going to say with a deep kiss that has you nearly shaking when he sucks on your bottom lip. 
“Let’s just take things easy,” he says roughly, bearing his weight on his left arm while he tries to get your sleep shorts and underwear off.
A promise of a next time makes your brain go fuzzy like static.
“I’ll hold you to it, then,” you resolve, lifting your hips as much as you can for him to lean back and pull away to wrestle your clothes the rest of the way down your legs, discarding them just as quickly.
“I hope you will,” he breathes through a small laugh as he shuffles on his knees. He doesn’t want to completely overwhelm you and scare you off, he just wants to enjoy you in a simple way that won’t entirely ruin you for tomorrow.
He doesn’t know what you can or cannot handle, but he’s going to find out.
The fresh air in the room brushes cooly against your wet cunt. It’s a nice contrast to how fiery your whole body feels, but Logan feels even warmer than you somehow. Maybe wolverine’s just run hot.
His sweats have ridden down his hips from his desperate grinding against you, and the dangerous cut of his v-line grows more and more narrow as the waistband teases the reveal of what’s underneath.
You watch him—palming his dick once as your knees sway side-to-side in waiting. His thumbs hook under the stretchy fabric, working what remains of his clothes down his sturdy thighs.
“It’s rude to stare.” He pops a brow, a smug, arrogant grin quirking his lips.
You push yourself to sit up, considerably shorter than him in this position as he stands on his knees, and walk two fingers up his toned stomach to his chest, avoiding the hard cock between you. 
He looks at you with curiosity until your hand grabs his dog tag in a fist, pulling it towards you. “Then stop showing me your dick,” you say as he leans in to your pulling a little to not have the chain break away.
You knew the night Logan dropped his pants in front of you and let you eye-up his bulge would come back to haunt you. But it’s alluring. Big. Curves a little to the left, barely noticeable. A respectable amount of hair decorates the space between his bellybutton and the base of his cock.
He gives in to the tension on the chain, falling back to the mattress with you and trapping you between his arms as his cock rests heavy on your clit.
“How about I find somewhere to put it?” His smile pushes a whole new wave of arousal from you.
“It would be a damn shame if you didn’t,” you say against his mouth, giving your hips a roll just to tease him before hugging his waist tightly with your knees.
“Good.” He gives you a strong kiss with a small grunt, running his hands over your sides under your shirt. The movement pushes it up, up, up, until you have no choice but to stretch your arms out above you and let him slide it off between more thoughtless kisses, leaving you entirely bare.
He lets you breathe for a moment, dipping his head to bite and suck marks along your collarbones messily. You squeeze around his hips harder, trying to get him to give you something other than his scratchy cheeks rubbing against your skin and the chilled steel of the dog tag dragging over your chest.
The tip of his cock falls and catches over your clit when he moves lower, licking and sucking over your chest like a starved animal finding food for the first time in a week. You gasp from the mixed sensations.
“C’mon, kitty cat, you can do all this while inside m-me,” you say breathily, fingers digging into his shoulders to stop yourself from trembling too much. 
Logan bites over a nipple before pulling himself back up to look at you. “Is that a promise?” He says lowly, that stupid smirk gracing his face again.
“Try it and find out,” you demand, enjoying the sting of the deeper bites blooming on your torso.
He purses his lips, shifting his weight back onto his knees to grab ahold of his cock to angle and guide it in.
“Hm, guess no lube is needed,” he muses when he gets a look at your cunt, sparing you a glance through his lashes.
You roll your eyes shut when your whole body lights up red-hot. “Jesus fucking Christ, Logan,” you slap a hand over your eyes as you grimace. You don’t want to be that aware of your naked self right now.
He suppresses whatever expression was about to cross his face when his cock notches itself between your soaked folds, teasing your hole with the blunt tip. His brows pinch together and you forget the embarrassment from his crude remark.
But he leaves his cock like that, on the precipice of sliding the rest of the way in with a snap of his hips. Instead, he carefully uncurls his upper body to crawl his way back up to you while holding his hips deathly still.
“Alright, stay with me,” he whispers against your neck when you moan, pressing a tender kiss to your rabid pulse in reassurance. 
“O-okay,” you sigh, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the roots while the other squeezes around his arm as best as it can. You’re not even really sure what he’s saying.  
He kisses up your cheek and over to your lips again. You try to keep up with his quick mouth, licking and sucking whatever part you can get ahold of, but you’ve become lost in the feeling of him all over you. 
He’s in your mouth, on your chest, against your stomach, nudging your cunt. Everywhere.
He slips his tongue over yours, securing your lips together at the same time he pushes his cock in halfway. Now you understand what he was saying. 
The lightheadedness from being filled, even just a bit, almost makes you lose yourself. The stretch makes your stomach drop, your legs shake, and your mouth fall open with a whine. 
“A-ah—fuck. Fuck, Logan,” you whimper, fisting his hair with both hands to stop yourself from falling apart.
He groans, either at the grip you have on his hair or how good your cunt feels already, and runs a hand up your left thigh in comfort as you squeeze around his hips tighter to draw him in. 
“Just a bit more,” he soothes, trying to resist the urge to slide into you in one fell swoop. It would be so easy to just let his hips fall into yours and fill your cunt.
Another heated kiss, another few inches. He works his cock into you the rest of the way with ease. You guess the lube thing wasn’t really a joke. His hungry, needy kisses may have also helped with that.
You choke on your gasps, not wanting to get too loud, and Logan does the same. He tries to muffle both of your moans with his mouth, attempting to form complete kisses, but it just turns into you panting against each other as he finally bottoms out, hitting his end. 
Your legs relax around his waist as he deftly rocks his hips in small thrusts to get you familiar with his size, his small grunts filling the air each time you swallow him whole.
You let out a deep breath, dropping your hands back to his tense shoulders. He lines your jaw with soft kisses, fisting the blanket in his hands beside your head.
“Fuck. Already feels too good,” he moans, pressing into you harder and unintentionally rubbing himself over your tender clit.
You smile, squirming while he works down your neck again. “Best of luck,” you huff, amused at the fact that he might not last as long as he wants to.
He brings his face back to yours, a completely blissful expression controlling his features, but there’s still some mischief in his hazel eyes. “Oh? Yeah?”
You hold each other’s gaze, both equally dazed and overwhelmed, and he draws his hips back and pushes into your wet cunt with a complete, strong thrust. The sound of his pelvis hitting against the backs of your thighs makes him laugh in pleasure and satisfaction when you instantly roll your eyes and head back.
Your cunt quivers, gripping him tight, and then it’s Logan’s turn to lose composure. He drops his head to your chest, managing a few deep breaths as he slowly pulls out halfway just to push right back into you, over and over. 
It’s a pace that isn’t quite pure, mindless fucking, but it’s also not somewhere near earnest love-making. It’s something that feels specifically curated for you. Something that feels measured and sincere. 
The strength of his thighs hitting against yours pushes you up the mattress a few inches, and you don’t know whether to gasp or moan. He reaches somewhere deep inside you, and you know he can feel that, too.
A helpless groan slips through Logan’s lips. “Where have you fucking been, huh?” He muses through shaky breaths, the determined plunge of his cock hitting something that makes your muscles tense throughout your body. 
Your fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck, keeping him close. “Two doors down,” you giggle, understanding that’s not quite what he was asking.
“Fucking smart-ass,” he grumbles, silencing any further rebuttals with a wet kiss. You don’t think you could manage much more of a conversation even if you wanted to.
The silence is quickly filled with obscene sounds that only seem to leave you wetter and Logan throbbing. You can hear your bodies connecting through your gasping for air and his choked moans, and you can feel the mess you’re making all over him. It’s smeared along the inside of your thighs from how deep he’s been hitting. The squelching only seems to make him fuck into you harder.
Something inside you starts to grow tight and wind up in your core, making you repeatedly clench around him while his cock strokes all the right spots inside you as he makes sure he’s fucking himself in to the base. He doesn’t deprive you of anything. 
He drops his head to your neck, wedging his face in to latch onto the spot right where your neck starts to slope into your shoulder. The dense muscle there gives him something to basically chew on, sinking his teeth in as deep as he can without drawing blood.
“H-hah, Logan,” you whine, tilting your head into the side of his and squirming from the pleasant sting.
You feel his arm move beside you, then you hear the sound of tearing fabric as he gives a particularly brutal snap of his hips, followed by a deep groan against your skin.
You can barely form any thoughts, but you can guess what just happened. If he pulled his hand back, three long, slim holes would probably be where his knuckles are right now.
“Fu-uck, Logan, you just got t-this mattress,” you laugh a little, your words choppy from how hard he’s driving into you now.
He draws back from your neck, seeing your half-lidded eyes trying to focus on him. “Can’t always control it,” he reasons, giving you two short, fleeting kisses as you hear his claws retract from the innocent mattress. 
You see the double-edged sword. You can guess that that’s the same explanation he would probably use for the nightmares. It can go either way, and now you’ve seen both sides.
“It’s okay,” you say in a hushed tone. You cradle his face, and he rests his forehead against yours. “Keep going…keep going,” you coax, face scrunching from your nearing orgasm.
You can feel it in your toes, your stomach, your shoulders—you’re tightening up everywhere, and he can undoubtedly feel it in your cunt as you pulse around him. It grips him just right for a couple seconds before relaxing completely and leaving him to chase for more.
“Keep squeezing me like that and you’ll get whatever you want,” he offers, fighting to maintain his steady pace for both your sakes.
You almost whine, knowing whatever your body does is beyond your control at this point.
“Just—inside.” You can’t even string together a full sentence anymore, but the urgency and stress on the last word makes Logan’s ears perk up.
He presses a soft kiss to your clammy forehead in acknowledgment, the muscles in his arms straining and flexing as he grabs ahold of his own orgasm after a particularly inviting flutter of your walls.
You’re both walking the line, teetering on the edge of utter euphoria, and you know nothing will be the same after. You don’t want it to be. You hope it isn’t.
He reaches an arm back, sliding his hand up your thigh again and slotting it behind the bend in your knee. He pushes forward—only slightly—bringing your leg closer to your stomach to stretch you open for him.
His cock brushes over something new. Something that makes you bite your tongue. The angle lets him fit perfectly against you, not hindered by the flesh of your thigh stopping his hips.
You want to cry from how good it all feels. You want to be suspended in this feeling forever. You want Logan to—
“Focus, baby. Focus on me,” he coos, bringing you back to reality. He holds the side of your head with his other hand affectionately. “Come on…come on, I know you’re almost there,” he encourages with a quick kiss that goes straight to your stomach.
The burn in your thigh from the stretch can’t overpower the sparks of your orgasm, and Logan just fanned the flames with a few little words.
You come with a broken sob, convulsing around his cock while he fucks you through it, submitting to his own orgasm only seconds after with deep, shaky breaths as he empties himself inside your cunt.
He doesn’t pull out or pull away. He relaxes on top of you, sweaty and sticky with cum, and he places the barest whisper of a kiss on your chin, your parted lips, your nose, and then your forehead. 
Your ears ring from your orgasm, eyes still slightly out of focus. Your body trembles from your muscles finally releasing the tension they’ve been caught up in. 
You desperately suck in air, trying to calm your pounding heart, and you just lie there and let Logan walk your body through a cool-down. Soft kisses. Soft touches. Soft looks. Between sweat, cum, and whatever else.
He rocks a little on his knees, weak from his release, and carefully pulls out of you with a huff as he caresses your stomach and thighs appreciatively to wind you down. You get a good look at him. Not a scratch. His hair tells a story, though—one where he’s completely possessed by bliss. 
You probably look like you survived an animal attack.
“Are we even?” Logan says through a kiss against your stomach.
A mindless laugh crawls from your throat, caught up in the feeling of his hands rubbing circles over your hips. “I think I still owe you,” you argue, resting your hands over his as they travel smoothly up your side.
You’ll find a way to make everything up to him. Including the sex. The scale is now tipping to his side too much. All the nights spent in his bed, what he’s done for you, what you’ve done for each other, may just be immeasurable, but that won’t stop you from finding a way to get him back for it all. 
“We’ll figure it out,” he mumbles, snaking back up your body and pressing himself against you. Face-to-face. Chest-to-chest. 
You mindfully run your hands over the sides of his head, trying to tame his hair and style it back to how it was earlier in the night. It doesn’t work. He enjoys it anyway.
“Do I have the pleasure of staying here tonight?” You ask rhetorically, enjoying the warmth of him on top of you against the brisk air creeping in from the cracked window.
Logan blinks. “You can stay every night.” 
A loving smile springs over your face. This may be the beginning of the end to your troubles and worries.  
You—maybe foolishly—trust him. You trust that he won’t accidentally bury his claws in your side during the night, but you’ve had impressive luck with that up until this point. The only thing you can do now is continue to push that luck.
Healing isn’t linear, and you can’t expect someone to fix you, but everyone finds their thing at some point. 
You slither your hand down to his neck, index finger grazing over his pulse again. You feel the energy biting against you.
Your lips graze over his, tempting him to give you a slow, deep kiss. “Can I have the left side?” Rhetorical, again.
Logan chuckles against your mouth. “Always.”
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
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(firefighters!141 x chubby reader… 👁️👁️ )
A friend of yours is a fire chief for your town’s local fire station. They ask you to help the fire station do some training drills for rescue operations. Your friend says it’s because you have acting skills, but you both silently acknowledge it probably has to do with the fact that you are chubby. Not fit, not thin, not easy to carry as evident by all the partners you’ve dated before- whatever you wanna call it.
It’s alright, you are pretty used to it. If they weren’t your friend, you would have honestly refused and saved yourself the inevitable humiliation, but alas. You are used to it, you really are.
You are introduced to Captain John Price, who holds your hand so warm and snug you have to will your blush away, but there’s nothing that can help you as he lays a big hand over your lower back and leads you to the waiting firemen. Three men, though you expected far more but John- Call me John, sweetheart. Captain is just for thos muppets- explains that they’ll be doing it in groups.
You are introduced to the three firemen (a Scot, and two Brits. Johnny, Kyle and Simon respectively. Unlike the other two, though, Simon is wearing a balaclava) and by god, you almost want to say that just for today, there is a different source of water they can use-
“Lay down here, sweetheart.” John’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and with a blush, you scramble to obey. The good girl you receive in return might as well be the best thing you’ve even been told in your entire life and the heat between your legs agrees as well.
Though you are quickly reminded that this will probably not go so well, considering your size and everything and maybe you should just apologize and leave already-
Before you can think about leaving, Johnny steps forward with that smirk he’s had since the beginning and a glint of mischief in his eyes. He crouches down next to you, stretching his arms out. “Alright, lass,” he says with a wink, “don’t be shy now. Let’s see if I’m up for the challenge.”
Before you can even process it, he slides his arms under you and lifts you up effortlessly- still mindful of your “injury”. Your face goes bright red as he shifts you in his grip, making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He gives a low whistle as he run around with you in his arms, a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Not too bad, eh? Thought I’d be struggling, but you’re light as a feather.” His grin widens, smug, as he watches your flustered reaction. “Didn’t expect me to be so strong, did ya, lass?”
You mumble something incoherent, trying to avoid his eyes, and he laughs, his deep chuckle vibrating through his chest. When he finally sets you down, you’re left feeling a little dazed, and before you can catch your breath, Kyle steps in and helps you lay back down.
“Alright, my turn,” he says with a gentle smile, his hands warm and careful as he reaches down to lift you. His grip is steady and secure, and he holds you with a tenderness that has your heart pounding in your chest. Unlike Johnny, Kyle doesn’t say much, but he gives you soft, reassuring smiles that somehow fluster you even more to the point where you really, really just want to bury your face in his shoulder. His arms feel solid around you, and there’s an easy confidence in the way he carries you that leaves you a little breathless.
“You doing okay, doll?” he asks, his voice low and soothing, and you nod, struggling to keep from blushing harder. He catches the faintest smile on your lips and chuckles softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he gently sets you back down.
Simon is next. He’s quiet as he approaches, his intense gaze flickering over you. Without a word, he slides his arms under you and lifts you in one smooth motion that leaves you drooling (in more ways than one). His hold is firm, and you can feel the strength in every part of his frame. If you weren’t playing the role of an injured, barely-conscious woman, you would honestly be begging to feel under his clothes.
He doesn’t say much as he carries you, but his steady breathing and the quiet intensity in his eyes speak volumes. You can barely hold his gaze; there’s something about his silent, stoic demeanor that sends your heart racing.
Finally, John steps up, and you realize you’re already blushing before he even touches you. Honestly? You doubt your face will return to normal anytime soon. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet authoritative. He wraps his arms around you, lifting you with an ease that leaves you a little lightheaded. The warmth of his embrace and the strength in his arms make you feel small and delicate in a way that you’ve never felt before. It leaves you breathless, but in a good way. John holds you close, his breath tickling your ear as he chuckles. “Not so bad, is it?”
By the end of it, your cheeks are burning, and the four of them are all sharing knowing smirks- you can even see the slightest crinkles of Simon’s eyes.
“Well, I’d say you’ve helped these muppets passthe test alright, sweetheart.” John huffs, his voice warm and full of amusement, and the others chuckle in agreement, each of them clearly enjoying your reactions far more than you anticipated. You can barely meet any of their eyes, your heart still pounding from the attention- and the teasing glances they keep exchanging make it clear that they noticed every flustered look and blushing smile.
As you’re still catching your breath, John tilts his head, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, and continues. “Well, we’ll have to call you back soon for another round, sweetheart. Can’t let the boys get rusty.” he teases, giving you a wink.
Johnny chimes in with a grin, taking your hand and kissing your palm. “Aye, can’t let you off that easy, bonnie. We’ll need plenty more practice to make sure we’ve got it down, yeah?”
Kyle nods as well, his gaze fixed on you. Never before have you had so much attention on you, and you never realized how much you quite love it. “Wouldn’t be proper training without our favorite helper.”
Simon, ever the quiet one, just gives you a small nod, but there’s a glint of promise in his eyes that makes your stomach flip.
You can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth you didn’t expect filling your chest. “I’ll… I’ll look forward to it. I’m glad to be of help.” You manage, your cheeks still tingling from the attention.
As you turn to leave, maybe go and ask your friend what else they could need you for since you are such a gracious friend, John’s voice calls after you, low and steady. “Soon, sweetheart.” The words linger, making you wonder just how soon “soon” might really be.
You hope it’ll be soon enough. Very soon enough.
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mymelodyisme · 1 year ago
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Is it annoying hearing about the people I find attractive in town 🤔
#one of the new pharmacy employees at our rite aid is really cute#he’s a tall boy too I feel tiny 👁️👄👁️ he towers over the darn desk#ANYWAYS the reason I bring this up even though I’m getting embarrassed because do I do this too often?? do I come and fish about random#strangers too much??? maybe??? I’ll relax I promise but I don’t have anyone to gush to in person so I just use this place as a diary 👉🏽👈🏽#sorry if that’s annoying but back to the story#today!! we went to pick up my grandma’s medicine and he was the one working 🤔 seems he’s on shift around 2ish cause I also had to pick up#my sisters meds yesterday but ENOUGH let me finish#we were picking up grandmas meds and he helped my mom blah Bosch blah#btw my mom told this poor man that another employee was super rude to my grandma the night before when calling about her meds and I’m like#mom 😭 what can he do about it??? poor guy#anyways after he walked away to get the meds she turns and says he’s cute#and me not wanting to EVER agree about the attractiveness of a person to my mom says “oh you should see him he’s TALL.’#🫡 she also said he was very polite and she liked him#Mr pharmacy man I’m so sorry if you heard my momma complimenting you and then me dumbly talking about how giant you are I am not good with#talking about pretty people around my mom she knows NOTHING about the way I feel about people I refuse to share I can’t#nope I only you guys get the details about my crushes and stuff so uh you’re welcome and I’m sorry 🥺#melifails#hes got medium hair and he’s a big boy not really fat no more like very rectangular the first time I saw him was actually when I was parked#I was sitting in my car about to leave and he pushed his hair back and fixed his nametag#I literally said ‘oh they have a new employee cool’ 😂 I don’t have a life#😩 I live simply to talk about nonsense and gush about people#oh and draw stuff for people!!! I love giving free art call me the giving tree because I’m all bark and I do bite#idk it’s 2 am I should be asleep#good night I hope you enjoyed my tags
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chipsncookies · 6 months ago
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Super robot butler Leon is the best thing I've ever seen all week thank you for this omg 🤣 whatever he wants to do, whatever he becomes, I support him, he deserves everything 🙏💖
I also miss the variety of monsters but at least we got some cool ulseven monster designs (the official Twitter posted them recently so I guess they're not spoilers anymore? Lol) my favourite are libal and toruth!
Also I completely agree with you I love the stories too much! But I'm not used to this much lore (14 chapters!) being released all at once, followed by one event per week? I play other gachas and I'm used to around 2 events per month, RK feels a bit fast paced to me 😅 I also got sidetracked by other things (ooh there's a 2* card of another fav character I must grind to get it!!)
Also this is more my own personal problem, but when I started a gacha game, as an f2p I feel compelled to collect the gems/currency as much as possible because what if they released my fav next (doing this by running explorations and rasing card levels...) So progressing in main chapter has been slow 😅
I know we're not the only people with this problem (unable to catch up) because apparently in the latest dev letter they will extend the event period to 10 days now, so it's clear other players were complaining, and I'm glad they're listening. I think the devs are still trying to gain their footing in running this game, here's hoping it'll only get better from now on 🙏
#i feel you op i also started initially to read the stories but got busy grinding for events instead 😭 #i also haven't read any of the events not even madguy bc i feel like im gonna miss a lot of context i feel sorry for my boys #although I've recently caught up to ch7 and it made me a stornger more brainrotted madguy fan than before #ppl said it's gonna get more insane later on and im nervous #but so far. the stories are GOOD i highly recommend reading it if you're able to #it's just kamen rider but with extra steps #also to assuage your fear (i hope?) i heard from the grapevines that the change to leon is minimal you can easily miss it (via @chipsncookies)
YES I feel a lot better knowing other people are in the same boat as me! :') as someone who only plays games very casually, the events are fun (and have been a good excuse to get those support stories on characters I was kinda ignoring) but SO distracting -- and they have a connected overarching narrative of their own (make sure you read them in order when you get to them!) so I don't want to skip any. which I guess is to say that my problem is that I'm enjoying the writing too much! how dare they.
overall it definitely has that Kamen Rider tone and feeling I was hoping for and I am VERY pleased with it! I do kinda miss the kitbashy monsters, though otherwise it's basically just Rider But With More Random Scenes of Characters Being Ridiculous At Each Other and that is exactly what I was after. (also exquisite taste, Mad Guys are best guys 🤝)
and as long as I still haven't gotten to episode 13 and can therefore continue to be hilariously naive, let me just say that I know what I'm dreaming of for Leon. he deserves it.
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...although I do think it would be VERY funny if they made that whole big "WE WILL BE UPDATING LEON'S SPRITES TO REFLECT STORY CHANGES!!!!" announcement and then it turns out that they just like. hue-shifted his eye color slightly to the right or something. it's not even a big story beat, Leon just decided to try out some color contacts, maybe comb his hair back a little, and we don't have the heart to tell him to stop. :(
#ride kamens#didn't mean to get a bit serious about the unable to catch up with story but it's kinda legit concern#also psst you predicted kamui-lamce interaction before i think you just did that again (pretty close)#Leon's sprites are updated now you can see it at the chaostone/riders selections#ALSO FELLOW MADGUY ENJOYER 🤜🤛🤝🤝🤝💖💖💖#madguys is just a group of very silly guys in one house they're so funny#+ agata the kind dependable big bro having dark tendencies (clinging on revenge.. ) just appeals to me so much. he's my#number 1 fav#i only liked one character from wisdom thinks (koki bc he's a Freak) but others have grown on me too and they've become my 2nd fav group now#so im dying at this event they hit me in the jugular with the prince themed cards. im not gonna sleep#slam days jr and tw are also good actually liek there's no bad team in this game#also he's not a rider but leon is also p high on my fav list. maybe 2nd after agata#for lore reasons and also bc he's just so funny and cute#wherein he barges into the private room going WHOOPS I WAS LOOKING FOR THE BATHROOM -- HEY ARE THOSE COOKIES#and then proceeds to drop a bunch of exposition inbetween stuffing his face with the cookies leon baked special for us#> SAME SAME he's so funny for that. i didn't care for flirty characters but that changed my opinion of him he's funny#also considering he's p old he might know lore stuff so im keeping my eyes on him 👁️👁️#meanwhile every time i get a tower story it's uryuu being super sweet while takato like. mentally villain-cackles over him.#honey you need to pack your hamster and RUN#< AGREED everyone I've talked to about taiten wants to 🔪 him and save uryu fbjdf#sorry for my ramblings this game has consumed me
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constellama · 9 months ago
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The Magnus Archives Dashboard Simulator
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🕷️ arachnophobia-incarnate Follow
Oh my god oomfies you’ll never believe what I just found
1,937,328 notes
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📚 jonathan-sims Follow
HELP THERES A DOG ON MY DESK???
2 notes
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🫖 poet-tea Follow
HELP I JUST LET MY DOG INTO MY BOSS’S OFFICE??
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
LITERALLY WHO ARE YOU
🛶 timtimothy Follow
LMAOOOOO
176 notes
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🪱 residentwormgirl Follow
I think there’s a wasp’s nest in my attic. I’m gonna go check it out.
🪱 residentwormgirl Follow
Do you hear that
🪱 residentwormgirl Follow
This is kind of a bop actually
☕️ ihavenohotcocoa Follow
op? op are you ok
2,332 notes
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🎭 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow
going on a date tomorrow! 😀
🛶 timtimothy Follow
haha what.
🛶 timtimothy Follow
can you repeat that op
🛶 timtimothy Follow
op?
🛶 timtimothy Follow
op can you repeat that
57 notes
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👁️ bouchard-elias Follow
I love my job. Everything just goes according to plan exactly how I want it to.
📖 bookluvr Follow
Hi
👁️ bouchard-elias Follow
hey sorry for this but you wouldn’t happen to have seen a lead pipe lying around would you?
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🤡 notmyvoicebox Follow
does anyone have any skin? For no reason whatsoever of course. Like if you just have it lying around. Out of use.
🌀 funhousemirrorman Follow
why do you need skin
🤡 notmyvoicebox Follow
wouldn’t you like to know, door boy
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🐺 detective-daisy Follow
is there wifi down here
⚰️ wakelyupwhenimdead Follow
no
🐺 detective-daisy Follow
HELLO?? HELLO CAN YOU HEAR ME??
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
I CAN! I CAN HEAR YOU
🐺 detective-daisy Follow
Oh. You.
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
What. What does that mean
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👓 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow
I can sense a promotion coming soon I’m so excited !!!
👓 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow
are you SERIOUS
🛶 timtimothy Follow
I’m going to kill that old man with my bare hands HOW DARE HE DO THIS TO YOU QUEEN
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👤 averagescarehater Follow
WHYYY IS THE SKY LOOKING AT MEEEE
📚 jonathan-sims Follow
my bad
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rae-writes · 2 months ago
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if you could do r trying on a new pheromone perfume and the brothers (separately) are js like 👁️👁️ and suddenly pounces on them and readers js so confused you’d literally be godsent😫
(my inspiration was that one Rafayel scene from lds-)
suggestive || bonus characters bc harem || whether or not Mc knew it was pheromone perfume is up for debate || 1.k wc
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Lucifer pauses for a brief second while not faltering in what he was doing, subtly trying to detect the cause of the scent invading every sense of his. He's one of the quickest to figure it out, eyes darkening as he empties his hands before gripping your waist and pulling you as close as physically possible; his face is in your neck before you can even blink and you both stay like that for a moment before he's silently tugging you to wherever he can sit down with you on top of him
Mammon's head snaps up so fast it almost hurts, eyes zeroing in on you. He knows where the scent is coming from, but he just doesn't understand why you suddenly smell even better than usual...he ain't shy as he slides his fingers over your wrist, up your forearm, going until he's caressing the slope of your neck. His breathing is shaky and his voice cracks a little when he whispers how intoxicated you're making him feel. He's got you laid down against the closest flat surface so he can run his hands over you, nose buried against the underside of your jaw as he breathes you in until he's damn near drunk off it
Levi's tail acts faster than he does, curling around your thighs and yanking you closer before he catches up with the action. His embarrassment is cut off when he finally registers the smell, too, and suddenly his face is red for a different reason. He'll fire off a million questions, adding his own jumbled thoughts in between, subconsciously latching every possible limb around you; his face is buried against your chest, fangs accidentally brushing the skin as he stutters out apologies, but doesn't stop
Satan perks up much like a cat, intense blue-green hues staring you down like he's ready to actually pounce. He approaches slowly, trying to figure out the source of your new scent on the way over, but ultimately decides to bury himself against you— your neck, chest, shoulder, nape— breathily asking what you were doing to him. He feels like he's been drugged, almost like a feline with catnip, but it's so dizzily good that he can't complain. Drags you off to where no one will be able to find you, so that your scent won't find anyone but him
Asmo is giddy the second he catches a wiff, easily pinpointing the reason for your scent change, and the exact listing of the brand you used. He's shameless as he requests a thorough product review, rubbing his frame up against yours as he holds you from behind, eyes peering over your shoulder with a bright pink hue. Cheekily insists that you’re better off without so many clothes on, wanting your scent to rub off on him so you can match (and so he can smell it for the rest of the day).
Beel is confused when the food in his mouth isn’t tasting as good as it should. The scent invades his nose, making his eyes search for what has to be a delicious source, only to find you instead of something edible. He’s all over you, mumbling out apologies and that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, asking won’t you please let him just…be near you? He trails after you like a puppy, not really sure why you’re captivating his entire being with just your smell. His mouth eventually finds your neck, nibbling and sucking as he tries to get a ‘taste’ of that scent.
Belphie, while unwilling to get up out of his spot, is instantly at attention with eyes following you around the room. He’ll whine and complain until he’s got you at his side, trapping you in his arms and against his lounging form. He’s almost tense, as he inhales that new scent, like a ram waiting to charge. His tone is lazy and drawn out, but tinged with a need that he’s confused about, yet so willing to dive into. He’s surrounded by you, literally and figuratively, as he keeps you tight in his arms, not above begging to get his way.
Diavolo is so fucking clueless, wide eyes blinking up at you almost innocently as he asks if you were wearing a new perfume. He finds himself inching closer to you, gaze never leaving your figure for long— a gaze that get darker and more lidded as time passes. He’s still clueless as ever, yet doesn’t mind the mystery since he’s always willing for an excuse to be with you. His cheeks are flushed and his touch a tad hesitant, but it all flies out the window when you allow him to bury his face against your abdomen, kneeling on the floor, letting his mind swim.
Barbatos takes one glance at you after catching on to the scent and knows, but unlike the pudding incident when he fled the scene, he’s coiling you up with his tail and keeping you impossibly close, unwilling to let anyone have you this time. Unabashedly, his nose is trailing along the slope of your neck, lips brushing the skin as he places slow kisses over all the right spots. Whether or not he does or doesn’t have time to spare, he’s whisking you away and trapping you against his frame, almost begging you to let him be selfish and improper as he inhales your scent with an abandon that would usually make him pause; he can forgive himself, if it’s because of you, unwilling to let go of this opportunity at your eager answer of ‘yes’.
Mephisto almost trips as he passes you by in the hallways of RAD, whirling around to gape at you rather dumbly. Stubbornly fights the urge to follow you for all of thirty seconds before he’s trailing after you with urgency. Manages to simply walk alongside you and keep polite small talk just until you’re both out of eyesight, because then he’s pulling you towards him and groaning, asking what the hell you thought you were doing walking around other demons while smelling so good. It’s a struggle to keep a dignified facade when he’s rushing you down the corridor— but once he gets you in a room, it’s all crumbling as he latches his lips to your neck’s pulse point. The Newspaper Club’s office is closed until further notice.
Solomon doesn’t really register the smell at first, both because it’s more subtle for humans, and because he was playing around with various potions— but once he did catch the smell after you’d gotten closer, he’s swiping everything to the side and placing you on the table instead. He is allll over you, not even hiding the flush on his cheeks as he inhales your scent; practically panting in the crook of your neck. Apologizes if you had something planned later, because he’s keeping you for the rest of the day, wanting to experiment with your new perfume. He knows he’s being overly touchy and a…bit desperate, but just indulge in his whims, yeah?
Simeon’s pretty sure that his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. He couldn’t understand why he felt so warm and fuzzy all the sudden, but had a feeling it was probably because of you (because only you could make him feel this way). Shyly asks if he could sit closer to you, pleasantly surprised when you tug his head to rest in your lap. His fingers lift your shirt up just enough for him to press his nose against a sliver of skin, face buried against your stomach as his hands grip and massage your thighs. Genuinely content to just lay there and let your scent consume him, though he won’t argue if you ask to help him out.
Raphael…thinks he’s sick. Which is odd, because he hasn’t been sick in a few centuries, but then again..you make him feel…odd. Which is why he walked straight up to you and flat out asked if you were doing it on purpose— why did you smell so good? Why was it making him like this?? He’ll have to be guided, your hand leading both of his to your hips, his head tucking into your neck. He’s still confused, but more than willing to investigate. You’re so..enchanting…he can make idle complaints all day long, but he refuses to let go of you now. He likes how it feels. And he likes the way you react to him.
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tender-rosiey · 3 months ago
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maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️
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you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.
not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.
“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.
“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”
“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”
you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”
time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.
the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.
“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.
before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.
you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”
satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”
ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.
he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.
you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”
satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.
his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”
ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”
satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.
“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”
you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”
satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.
“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”
you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”
satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”
you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.
you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.
ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”
ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.
he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”
he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”
“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.
he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.
“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”
he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”
he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize
check out my buy me a coffee!
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lucretiaadventurezone · 1 year ago
Text
TAZ Balance Dashboard Simulator
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💪 bagnus-murnsides
↻ lactosewarrior5000 Follow
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💪 bagnus-murnsides
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happy rise and grind reclaimers wednesday monday
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✨ you-know-from-tv Follow
its literally friday ?
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🔥 lup-da-lup Follow
HAPPY RISE AND GRIND RECLAIMERS WEDNESDAY MONDAY FRIDAY
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👖 lactosewarrior5000 Follow
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#the additions are KILLING ME #laugh rule #tumblr days of the week #scheduled
(2,358 notes)
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📔 sheesh-creesh
[REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]
#bureau business #inoculated #txt
(0 notes)
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🔎 ango-mcdango
↻ you-know-from-tv Follow
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🌱 merlehighchurch1
give me that username lup. stop impersonating me
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🌱 merlehighchurch Follow
no
(893 notes)
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🍵 potion-master-69
CALLOUT FOR GARFIELD THE DEALS WARLOCK
so im not trying to start anything, but it has to be said. garfield has been collecting blood from various people and using it for nefarious purposes, as well as just kind of being a dick.
receipts under the readmore vv
Keep Reading
#callout #gore tw #lilian don’t look
(41 notes)
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🔎 ango-mcdango
↻ lesbian-orc-lover Follow
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👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow
Life is meaningless and nothing matters. Everything sucks and we should all just give in. Submit to the Hunger.
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🌱 merlehighchurch1
this is exactly what ligma was saying a few years ago
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👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow
What is Ligma? Some minor god you think will save you when your plane is consumed?
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🌱 merlehighchurch1
LIGMA BALLS OHHHHHHHH
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✨ you-know-from-tv Follow
ohmygod you killed him
(53,007 notes)
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🍑 juicy-wizard-official
↻ 7-bird-watcher Follow
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🚀 cap-n-port Follow
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A picture of the moon I took with my new camera! If you look really closely, you can see the B.O.B. on the left side.
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🌱 merlehighchurch1
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🚀 cap-n-port Follow
You can't do that here
(68,913 notes)
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🌱 merlehighchurch1
↻ merlehighchurch Follow
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🌱 merlehighchurch Follow
hey guys! it's me, merle hightower highchurch. just wanted to come on here and say that i'm a total loser and lup is the coolest bitch alive
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🌱 merlehighchurch1
STOP
#this is elder abuse
(1,002 notes)
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💀 reaper-kravitz-official
.
#my coworkers are driving me CRAZY rn #what do you mean it was 'just a little bit' of necromancy #WE ARE LITERALLY REAPERS LIKE HELLO #and now rq will be pissed at me. great #vent #do not rb
(2 notes)
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🕸️ krav-dementia-raven-way
i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fu
#ohhhhh my god accidentally posted on the wrong blog #i didn't realize until BOTH of my coworkers had seen it fuck me #i am dating one of their brothers as well so #dreading our next work meeting and my date plans tonight
(1 note)
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🌈 lucretiaadventurezone
i need to pick up taako by the scruff of his neck and shake him around
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racew1nn3rs · 7 months ago
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─ 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚, 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚 🫀
max verstappen x singer!fem reader // smau
⤷ summary: when max verstappen starts commenting on the posts of the beloved singer y/n l/n, fans are confused and less than enthusiastic at the new friendship. what they could never expect is just how long they've been 'friends'...
based on this request <3
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, maxverstappen1, and 46,908 others
tagged sabrinacarpenter
ynusername my new album is now officially out on all platforms! thank you so so much for all of the love and support, and special thanks to sab for her feature on the song <33 love u bb girl 🫦🫦 now that the album's out, tour next!!! see you all soon!
23,560 comments
user1 THE ALBUM OUT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL PEOPLE THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
user2 i cannot be normal about this i fear
user3 ik her back hurts from CARRYING the music industry on her back 😩
user4 hey so WHO TF IS SO AMERICAN ABOUT?? A LOVE SONG
user5 y/n writing a love song in god's year of 2024... wow
user6 y/n in the top 10 charts, fork found in kitchen
user7 sabrina and y/n are never beating the gf allegations
ynusername damn right we're not 😏
user7 HOLY SHIR HOKY SHIT HOKST SHUT
user8 y/n's in love and it's not with me, hanging myself as we speak
user9 the comment is gonna get reported but so real op
user8 can't a woman hang herself in peace 😣
user10 album's such a banger i had this shit bumpin at my grandmas funeral 🙏🏼 rest in piece nancy 🕊️💪🏻
user11 OH MY GOD???
user12 rest in piece nancy you would've loved make you mine 😔
ynusername oh my god please tell me your joking
user10 sorry queen the grind never stops
ynusername NO SHOT
maxverstappen1 great album! 👍🏼
user13 why does he text like my father 🧍🏻‍♀️
user14 brother eughh
user15 what da hell is a polar bear doin in arlington texas
ynusername thank you max!!!
user16 y/n l/n to redbull in 2025
user17 hellurrrrr who is this man in ur likes y/n
user18 f1 driver!!
user17 Y/N NO ATHELETES PLEAEJEWK 🫵
user18 tour content soon??? i'm sat
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user19 bro looks like he snuck onto earth, get his ass outta here
user20 grammy-award winner, vogue cover model, new york university graduate and Some Fucking Guy
user21 not y'all coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 💀💀 he's literally a world class athete and she writes pop music
user20 17.172.224.47
user21 IS THAT MY IP ADDRESS??
user20 melinda charleton
user22 IS THAT HIS MOTHER'S NAME!!?1?1!
user20 you want me to do you too???
user22 no we good 😃
user23 ruth bader ginsberg did not die for this
user24 now wtf does this have to do with babe ruth 🤨
user25 WHOOOOO 😧
user24 ... that wasn't right was it
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user26 now let's be fr he does NAWT have a chance
user27 have u seen the marble-carved  goddesses these men pull, i fear he does 😔
user28 please no i feel ill
user29 TWO???? OH HELL NAW
user30 two might be pushing it, only one was confirmed
user31 jesus christ
user32 first taylor, now this
user33 yall, all he commented was great album 💀💀 yall are LEAPING to conclusions
user34 what can i say it's an art
user35 i do not see 👁️👄👁️
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user36 no like 💀💀 im in your walls
user37 haha max verstappen!! right!!! (theres a sniper at ur location)
user38 omg ur so right 🤩 it is about him (i have a bomb strapped to my chest)
user39 i dont mean to sound stupid, idk who that man is, if i saw him on the streets i wouldnt know a thing 🥱
user40 this is so random too like what 😭
user41 the power of kindness won't work here, i have to throw him off a building
user42 i used to be a max verslsjjwwo lover 🤩 now im just a max verslsjjwwo hater 😔
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user43 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S OUT AGAIN
user44 why would u put that into the universe 😧
user45 alright, lets get you to bed grandma
user46 mari stop being delusion and go touch grass 🧍🏻‍♀️
user47 ENOUGHHHH
user48 ain't no way in hell 😭
user49 ik ur feet hurt from all this jumping to conclusions babe
user50 lets leave the parkour to the athletes 😃
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 54,789 others
ynusername italy thanks for letting me be inside you (; it was such a lovely show, expect me back asap!!!!
15,267 comments
user51 IT WAS SO GOOD I THNK I BLACKED OUT THE WHOLE TIME THO
user52 oh!
user51 oh so now this isn't a safe space
user53 LANDO AND MAX IN TGE LIKES??? NO NO NO NO
user54 ABORT ABORT ABORT
user55 y'all are doing too much 🙄 she's one of the top artists in the world, i think it's safe to say they might like her music
user56 the second picture 🧎🏻‍♀️do you need a stool cause i can kneel and be really quiet
user57 y/n fans be normal challenge (impossible!!!) (never done before)
user56 WOMP WOMP
maxverstappen1 wonderful show! 🙏🏼 you are so talented
ynusername ty max (: im glad you could come see me
user57 ain't NO WAYYYYYY
user59 THIS IS SIXKENJNG IM GONNA PUKE
sabrinacarpenter my gf looking sexy 🫦🫦🫦
ynusername only for u bbg 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️
user60 BOOOO 🗣️ GET A ROOM
user61 do y'all need a third!!!!
user62 mamma mia pizza pasta mozzerella moment
user63 i just put u on a watchlist
user62 🧍🏻‍♀️
landonorris RAHHHHHH 🦅🫵🗣️‼️
ynusername RAHHH RAHHH RAHHH RISE POWER POWER 💪🏻‼️
user63 what the fuck
user64 OH GOD WHAT IF SHES DATING HIM????
ynusername brother eughhhh
landonorris WHAT THE FUCK????
user65 SINCE WHEN IS SHE FRIENDS WITH F1 DRIVERS HOW MANY CHAPTWRS DID I MISS
user66 apparently we all went into a universal coma while she was out galavanting cause idk how else this could've happened
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maxverstappen1 posted to his story!
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(caption: beautiful show)
22,456 replies
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user67 someone save my girl bro, she don't know any better 😭
user68 it's like a little kid trying to touch the hot stove, LIKE STOP THAT!! DON'T DO THAT
user69 am i the only one who thinks they'd be cute together....
user70 YES!?!?
user71 there is literally no fucking way he bagged her
user72 losing y/n to european f1 driver would be the biggest american tragedy since 2001
user73 i had to read this shit twice, op what r u waffling abt 🫵😧
user74 can't even be nonchalant about this one bro, i'm chalanting hard asf
user75 we do not care
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liked by redbullracing, f1, and 78,567 others
tagged maxverstappen1
ynusername first time in monaco, safe to say i enjoyed myself! so happy to see you shine this time my love<3
25,788 comments
user76 oh. my. fucking. god
user77 THEYRE FUCKING DATING OH MYFODNSJ
user78 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE MEEE MAKING YOU LAUGHHH 🎤
user79 i'm in mourning
sabrinacarpenter CHEATER 🫵
ynusername BABY IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE, IT WAS JUST ONE TIME 😣😣😣 IT WAS A MISTAKE
maxverstappen1 we've been dating for 2 years??
sabrinacarpenter SHUT UP FAST & FURIOUS NO ONE ASKED YOU
user80 i'm sorry 😃 two Y EARS
user81 i feel like i just got dumped. y/n don't do this, the kids need you 😔
maxverstappen1 i got p1 for you, i love you 🫶🏼
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hope you all enjoyed! please let me know your thoughts and feel free to leave a request for me to write something for your fav <3
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