#you left the real outdoors to come inside

[scoriarose]

So there's this weevil that now thinks it's an isopod and has been living with them the past few months.

His straw is too short.

[lubdubology]

When Things Turn Green Again

SYNOPSIS: Hoping to mend the pain of your broken heart and bury the memory of your failed marriage, you turn towards the woods. A cabin was left in your name and it’s the exact distraction you were looking for. What you didn’t anticipate is meeting a quiet, ruggedly handsome man along the way who helps you heal.

PAIRING: Logan x fem!reader

WC: 11k

WARNINGS: smut 18+; mdni; angst; mentions of cheating/divorce; emotional trauma; fluff; sexual innuendos; brief mentions of drinking; dirty talk; slight dom!Logan; oral (f receiving); fingering; doggy style; cock warming; sex with feelings; unprotected p in v

A/N: I pictured either Origins!Logan or Wolverine!Logan, but I think you can envision any Logan you’d prefer. And again thanks to @joelsgoldrush for the support through writing this ❤️ I really do love this piece I wrote and I hope you do too. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! And thank you to everyone who has read, commented, liked and reblogged both Soft Edges and Til The Sun Turns Black—I never imagined either of those stories reaching over 1k notes.

The gravel crunches under your tires as you roll down the long driveway. Memories bloom deep in your chest as you near the cabin, of times simpler than this, unburdened by trappings of real life. You spent your formative years out here in the woods with your grandfather. Summers spent learning how to fish on the lake; how to recognize the poisonous berries from the nonpoisonous ones; and making fires, roasting marshmallows long after the sun had gone down. 

Your grandfather had helped build this cabin. He’d always preferred the outdoors and solitude from people—with the obvious exception of your grandmother and mother—and he’d often come here to escape. Especially after he lost them both. 

The cabin comes into view through the trees just starting to unfurl their spring foliage. Patches of snow still dot the landscape but the wet brown of winter is losing to spring’s verdant hues. The structure has seen better days, last having been lived in over ten years ago. 

A stab of regret pierces your chest. The cabin was willed to you when your grandfather died, but this was your first trip up here since the funeral. You planned to, of course, but as the old saying goes, life happened. Now, you’re hoping the old place can give you something to sink your energy into besides thinking about your failed marriage. 

You park the truck and step out, surveying the property. The shrubs and flower beds are overgrown and choked with old growth and weeds. Years worth of leaves rest upon the roof and clog the gutters. The front porch has several loose or missing spindles and you’re almost afraid to step up onto the old boards. Proving yourself right, the wood groans and creaks beneath your feet, certain spots threatening to give way.

“That’s going to be a fun project,” you mutter to yourself.

Opening the front door, you’re met with the damp mustiness of a long closed up space. A layer of dust seems to coat nearly every surface and cobwebs linger in the corners. You’re hoping the repairs needed inside the cabin are more cosmetic than costly.

You open up the old blinds, letting the early morning light filter in the room. It’s not a large space, an open kitchen, living room and dinning area with separate bedroom and attached bathroom. A small set of steps leads up to a loft, which also doubles as a sleeping space or bonus area.

You unload your belongings from the truck, tucking them away inside the bedroom, before opening all the windows to let in the fresh air. Thankfully, the glass and protective screens are in relatively good repair—a few need replacing, but an easy enough job. You feel a sense of purpose flourish within you, something you haven’t felt for months and you wonder if this is just the reprieve you need to find yourself again.

+++

You spend the morning taking inventory of the repairs needed around the cabin to make it immediately livable. Jotting down a list of supplies, you hop in your truck and head into town to hit up the hardware store. 

The owner, George, recognizes you from previous trips with your grandfather when you were younger. He greets you warmly and helps you find everything you need. As you’re checking out, he asks, “Run into Logan yet?”

“Logan?”

He nods his head. “Shares a property line with you. Has a cabin of his own just about a quarter mile north of yours. Asked him to keep his eye out on the place.”

“Oh, well, that was nice of him,” you comment, stuffing your receipt in your purse. 

George shrugs. “Figured it would give him something different to do. Doesn’t interact much with people.”

“Guess I’ll just have to introduce myself then,” you say, lifting your bags up off the checkout counter. 

“Good luck with that,” George responds with a huffed laugh. “He’s not one for small talk.” 

You give George a polite smile and leave the store, bags in hand. But the conversation sparks your curiosity and you find yourself thinking of the man who shares the woods with you. You promised yourself once you were settled, you’d make the short hike towards his place and introduce yourself.

Arriving back at the cabin, you park the truck and hop out, stopping short when you spot a lone figure walking around from the back of your property. You can’t stop the prickle of anxiety that zips up your spine as the figure comes closer, but he doesn’t see you yet, his eyes on the ground as he walks.

You shut the truck door with more force than necessary, the sound echoing off the trees. He looks up then and you suck in a short breath as his rugged features come into view—well trimmed but scruffy beard, wild dark hair and a fit muscular frame you can see even under the flannel of his shirt.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach and you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt like this. You can feel a blush creep across your face and you grip the bags in your hands tighter just to feel something other than the hammering of your heart in your chest.

He stops short of where you’re standing and jerks a thumb behind him. “Turned your electrical breaker on,” he says without introduction and you can only stare at him.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “I, uh—thanks.”

He tilts his head and looks at you and you feel like you’re on fire under his glare. It’s an inquisitive one, like he can’t quite figure out what you’re doing in a place like this and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. And yet, you don’t want him to stop looking at you. 

“Right,” he says, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for something. He fishes out a key and holds it in your direction. “This is yours.”

You shift the bags, so you’re holding them all in one hand and reach for the key. Your fingertips brush against his just briefly, but it’s enough to set sparks along your skin and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. As he steps back from you, you blurt out your name and then immediately wish for a swift death at your awkwardness. 

God, this was embarrassing. 

It’s like you’ve never interacted with humans before.

He gives the barest hint of a smile. “Logan.”

“Nice to meet you, Logan,” you say, just so you can taste his name in your mouth.

Logan nods and turns to head down the path that leads away from your cabin and deeper into the woods. You watch him go, his figure fading further into the distance and you can’t help but think, I’m in trouble. 

+++

You spend the rest of the day keeping busy around the cabin—wiping down dusty surfaces, sweeping up cobwebs, replacing broken light bulbs—but your mind never strays far from Logan and the inexplicable pull you have towards him. 

You’ve dated. You were married. You weren’t a stranger to the opposite sex and physical attraction, but this felt like more. Like an unavoidable pull between you and him and you’ve just been spun into his orbit. 

And that attraction terrifies you. 

Over the next few days, you try and shove him from your mind. It helps that you haven’t seen him again, but your eyes inevitably dart towards the path leading away from your cabin as if you’re expecting him to come walking through. 

Then, the idea comes to you late one night as you’re sitting in front of the fire, watching the flames lick higher. No matter how hard you had tried, Logan remained firmly planted in your mind, his roots stubborn and unyielding. 

Your grandfather always said your grandmother’s cooking was always something that warmed his heart. 

But as you walk the small path towards Logan’s property you briefly wonder if you’ve lost your mind. You carry the small pie dish in your hands and as his cabin grows closer you’re actually contemplating turning back and forgetting the whole thing.

Who the hell bakes pies for people any more?

His cabin is smaller than yours, a little more rustic and worn, which seems fitting based on the little you know about him. Several piles of firewood line the roofed porch and at the opposite end, a single chair and table sit in front of the window. With one last shaky inhale, you climb the steps and rap your knuckles against the door. From inside you hear heavy footfalls and then the door opens.

Logan looks down at you and then towards the dish in your hands, an odd expression crossing his handsome features.

“I made you a pie,” you blurt unceremoniously and you instantly wish for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Logan just continues to stare at you and you think you see the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth. But maybe not.

“I, uh, my grandfather lived in the cabin next to yours and it’s mine now. I’m fixing it up, because…well, just because and he taught me to pick berries as a kid? So, I did that and I made you this,” you finish in a ramble, flames of embarrassment licking across your skin.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His eyes flick down at the dish in your hands again and you hold it up a bit higher, nudging it closer towards him. As he reaches out to take it, his fingers brush against yours and you again feel electricity tingle down your fingertips. If he notices it too, he says nothing, not that he’s said anything since you showed up on his porch. 

Logan tucks the dish closer to his body and gives you a slight nod. You take that as a good sign and step back to leave. “Okay, cool, cool. Well, um, enjoy. I made sure all he berries were the edible ones so you don’t end up throwing up everywhere.”

At that he actually huffs a chuckle. “Good to know,” he finally says, his voice warm and rich and just a bit gruff.

“Right, well, enjoy!” You turn to leave and can feel his stare against your back and it takes all your remaining functioning brain cells to walk normally.

You spend the next few days trying to forget all about your ill-fated attempt to play neighbor, figuring if he didn’t want to know you before, he definitely didn’t after that. 

You’re coming back from a hike when you spot Logan through the trees walking away from your place, hands tucked deep within his pockets. Your heart quickens in your chest as you walk up to the front door and find the baking dish sitting on the old welcome mat. It’s freshly washed with a folded up piece of paper sitting inside—Thank you.

You’re certain your smile could rival the light from the sun.

+++

It becomes a routine over the next few weeks—you bringing him food and him returning the dish, all without exchanging any words. You’re thankful he’s not much of a talker because you can’t seem to stop making a fool of yourself around him. 

And you don’t know why. 

He’s a handsome man, that anyone can see, but you’ve never been so flustered around a beautiful man before.

There’s something else about Logan you can’t pinpoint that sets your heart fluttering behind your ribs. He seems lonely in the same way you are, and you wonder if he’s out here to lick and heal old wounds just like you. You have an inexplicable want to help him, even if that means sharing your food leftovers with him and trying to chip away at the wall that surrounds him. 

A part of you is hoping he can help break down your walls, too. 

You’re waist deep under the kitchen sink when a knock on the door drags you from fixing the leaking drain. 

“Ah, fuck,” you curse, trying to maneuver out of the space while also not spilling the stagnant water left in the sink trap. As you set the old drain down you call out, “Just a second!”

You wipe your hands against your thighs and swing the door open to find Logan standing there, your glass baking dish from yesterday in his hands. For a second you blink silently at him, unable to think of anything but the fact that you’re wearing grease stained overalls and probably smell like a swamp. 

“Logan, hi,” you finally say, brushing your hair out of your face. 

He gives you a strange look as he hands the dish back to you. You open your mouth to speak when he interrupts you, “Why do you feed me?”

His question hangs in the air and you freeze. Of all the things he could have asked, you weren’t sure why you didn’t expect that one. His voice is a little gruff, but underneath there’s something that makes your heart race. Something vulnerable. 

You swallow and grip the edge of the glass dish. Logan stares at you, his gaze intense, and you feel exposed. Like he’s trying to dissect you with just a look. 

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” you finally admit. “You just…seem like you could use some kindness.”

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything else. The silence stretches between you, heavy and charged, and you can feel your pulse quicken. “I can stop if—if you want.”

“No,” he says, his voice rough, but with an undercurrent of tenderness. “No, you don’t have to stop. Just not used to people doin’ things like that for me.”

His admission catches you off guard being the first real piece of personal information he’s shared with you. You’ve gleaned certain things from George—he’s told you about Logan being a mutant and a few pieces of his past—but you know there’s still a world of history hiding behind his loner facade that he keeps hidden. You’re hoping eventually he lets you take a peak inside.

“Everyone deserves kindness, Logan,” you say. 

His gaze flickers, a shadow of something crossing his features that makes your heart ache. He shifts on his feet and stares down at the dish in your hands. “I’m not so sure of that,” he replies. 

“Well, I am.”

Logan’s eyes drag back up to yours and you try to calm the nervous energy that bubbles under your skin as his stare presses into you. He gives you a small nod then before turning to leave. 

He pauses as he hits your driveway and looks back at you, cursing lowly to himself. Scratching at the back of his head, he walks back up the steps and pulls something out of the pocket of his jacket. “I, uh, here,” he says uncertainly as he hands you the small cloth bag. 

You can only stare as you take the bag from him, the gift surprisingly light in your hand, but the gesture heavy with unspoken emotion. Your mind races as you think of what could be inside and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. 

Logan stands there, eyes not quite meeting yours as he waits for you to open it. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo the drawstrings and peer inside, finding a mixture of different seeds. You can’t help but trail your fingers through them, feeling the faint warmth they hold from where they were nestled against Logan’s body. 

“Oh, Logan,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. 

You glance up at him and he’s looking at you, scratching at his beard, the faintest hint of blush staining his cheeks. “They’re wildflowers. Don’t know what kind. But, I dunno. I thought you could use them for your garden.” 

Your chest tightens as you pull the strings close and tuck the bag in your pocket. “I love them, Logan,” you say, offering him a smile. “Thank you.”

For a moment, you see the tension in his shoulders relax just a bit as he exhales. “Just seemed like something you’d appreciate,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. 

Something has shifted between you and you find yourself itching to touch him, but you don’t. Not yet. The thread holding you two together is there, but thin, and you don’t want it to fray. “I really do appreciate it,” you say softly, stepping just the tiniest bit closer. 

Logan nods and his mouth tugs into something that’s not quite a smile, but close. He looks at you for a long moment, the weight of his gaze pressing into you. “Okay. Good.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turns and jogs down the steps. 

“Guess I’ll see you around then,” you call after him, a smile spreading across your face. 

He glances back over his shoulder. “Yeah. I guess you will.”

And maybe, just maybe, the walls around him are beginning to crumble. 

+++

Sweat beads across your brow as you work, but you pay it no heed. Your attention keeps slipping to Logan as you pry another nail loose from the rotted board. You’ve fallen into an odd relationship with the elusive man whose property line you share, yet you still barely know anything about him.

It’s been a week since he stopped by and gave you those wildflower seeds. A warmth still spreads in your chest when you think about it. And true to his promise, you do see him around, albeit not as much as you’d like. He seems wary, as if his gift opened up a part of himself he wasn’t ready for you to see.

But at least he doesn’t drop off your clean dishes and run anymore. 

As you pry the last nail free, the rotten board comes free and you toss it down onto the grass along with the others. Thankfully, the porch isn’t terribly large and you figure another hour or so to remove the remaining boards before you can start laying down fresh lumber. 

The crunch of gravel pulls you from your work and you look up to find Logan walking down the path, a large leather bag in his hand. You look up at him, wiping the sweat off your brow and lean back onto your heels, trying your best not to stare at his forearms.

“Oh, hey, Logan,” you say, wiping your hands against your jeans as you stand. “What brings you to my side of the woods?”

He actually smiles at you and nods towards the porch. “Need help?”

You hate the little flutter you feel pressing against your ribs. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, it’s good thing you’re not asking. I’m offering.”

You blink, caught off guard by his directness. “Oh, well, if you insist,” you say, trying to calm your nerves. “It would be nice to have a second set of hands.”

He sets the leather bag down on the porch with a thud and you catch a glimpse of the tools nestled inside. Logan notices you looking and comments, “I know a few things.” His smirk makes your legs feel like jello. 

“Oh, I bet you know a lot of things,” you blurt, and your eyes widen at the double entendre of your words, heat flushing across your face. 

Logan laughs, a real laugh, his eyes crinkling. “Well, it’s always good to be well educated,” he says with a wink.

Fuck, you feel like you’re going to spontaneously combust. 

Shoving down your raging embarrassment, you lay out your plan to fix the porch and Logan gives a small nod. He starts at the opposite end, prying loose the first board with ease. You try not to stare at the way his muscles move and how his skin begins to slick with the first beads of sweat. You work in silence for a while, the only sounds those of the forest around you. 

“So, what actually brought you out here?” Logan finally asks. 

You glance over at him and watch as he tosses another board onto the grass. He looks at you expectantly and you sigh. “I got divorced,” you answer honestly. “And I needed something pour my energy into other than wondering where the fuck I went wrong.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your openness leaving you feeling raw, and instead focus on the board in front of you. Anger begins to simmer in your veins at the thought of the last couple of years and you grab the next plank with just enough force to wedge a splinter deep into your palm. A loud curse falls from your lips as you drop the board. 

You feel Logan next to you and you suck in a deep breath as he reaches for your hand, his fingers curling around yours. “Lemme see,” he says, pulling you close and you can smell the earthiness of him, like damp soil and campfire smoke. You find yourself staring at him, his proximity intoxicating, as you drink in his long lashes and the slope of his nose. 

He tilts your palm towards himself, his fingers pressing gently yet with firm enough pressure to push the splinter out of your skin. Pulling it out the rest of the way, his eyes flick up to yours. “Somehow I don’t think you’re the one that fucked up, sweetheart.” His voice is warm and you want to melt into him. 

“Well,” you start, clearing your throat, “I certainly wasn’t fucking his mistresses.” 

Something in his eyes darkens and a shiver runs down your spine. “He’s a fool for losin’ you,” he growls, and his words hit you with more force than you’d care to admit. 

His hand still lingers on yours, steady and reassuring and warm and for a moment you think he might lean closer. You desperately want him to. To press his mouth against yours, to feel his breath against your skin, to have his taste against your tongue. But he pulls back, his expression one of thin control, but you can see the storm behind his gaze. 

“A damn fool,” he mutters under his breath and you can’t help but wonder if he’s talking about himself or your ex. 

Logan lets your hand go, turning back towards the porch and you mourn the loss, your skin still tingling from the contact. You swallow hard, trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. It’s Logan—quiet, gruff Logan, who never really sticks around for a real conversation and yet here he is, offering help and showing that maybe he’s not entirely as unaffected by you as you thought. 

Your heartbeat drums in your ears as you watch him go back to work, prying up the next board, his muscles flexing beneath his worn shirt. His jaw clenches and there’s a focused determination in his movements and you can’t tell if he’s working out some anger or trying to keep himself in check.

You work in silence for several more minutes, the only sounds being the prying of loose boards and creaking lumber. There’s a tension between you now, more so than there was before, something palpable. 

It’s enough to drive you mad.

“What about you?” you finally ask, your voice somewhat hesitant. “You don’t talk about yourself much.”

Logan glances at you from the corner of his eye and his brow furrows, as if he’s weighing whether or not to answer. “Not much to tell,” he grunts, pulling up another board with more force than necessary.

“Somehow, I doubt that. You don’t just wake up one day alone in the woods with forearms like that.” 

Logan looks over at you and smirks. “Maybe I’m just really good with my hands.” His voice dips low and you can’t help the warmth that pools low in your belly at his words.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Yeah, no…yep. I’m starting to figure that out.”

He’s silent for a few moments as he goes back to work and the air between you hums with something charged. “You really want to know?” he asks, his voice rough. “I’ve been around for too long, longer than anyone should. Done things I’m not proud of.” He tosses another plank aside and all you can do it watch him. “I’ve…I’ve hurt people I care about. People I’ve cared about have hurt me. I’m not really sure I belong anywhere, so I just…drift.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something broken and vulnerable, and it catches you off guard. For all his outward strength, there’s man deep down inside who’s lost, and your heart aches for him.

“You belong here,” you say softly. 

He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the tension shift as the weight of your words settle between you. Another board gets tossed aside. “Yeah, maybe.”

He finally raises his gaze to yours and for a moment the world quiets—the forest, the porch, all of it—as his eyes lock onto yours and his expression softens. You offer him a warm smile and then return back to the porch, hesitant to push him any further. 

You work comfortably together after that. The old boards removed, Logan helps you place and nail down the new ones. Your conversation is limited to the project, but you don’t mind. 

As Logan packs up his tools, you glance over at him. “Thank you.”

A half smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “You’re welcome,” comes his reply as he steps off the porch and heads down the path back towards his cabin. 

“Logan!” you call, lightly jogging after him before he slips out of view. He pauses and turns back towards you. “Can I make you dinner?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t you already been doin’ that?”

“No,” you say shaking your head, “I mean, yes, I have, but like a proper dinner? Fresh from kitchen to table. I can come by you, if you’d like.”

Logan studies you for a moment, his gaze intense and you can feel your heart beating against your ribs. He’s silent for so long you wonder if you’ve overstepped and you open your mouth to speak when he says, “Alright. Come by tomorrow, six o’clock.”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “Tomorrow it is.”

+++

You’re up before the sun, your nerves a tangle of raw edges. You lay there, staring at the ceiling  and wondering what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into. 

You weren’t expecting to meet someone out here in the woods. You were hoping for tranquility, a distraction to quiet the voice in your head that kept nagging you for how your life veered off course. That maybe if you worked more, did more, loved more you wouldn’t be a thirty year old divorcee. 

Instead, you find a mysterious man who sparks within you a flame you long thought extinguished. A ruggedly handsome man who’s somehow wormed his way into your life and has you wondering if maybe he can’t help mend the pieces of your broken heart. 

Except you don’t know if that same spark is ignited within him and if his gesture of dinner is simple kindness. A response to the kindness you’ve shown him over the last two months or if he’s feeling that same attraction you do. 

God, you hope he does. 

You spend the morning cleaning, trying to pour your nervous energy into something productive other than worrying about what the evening may bring. Driving into town, you agonize over what to make even though he’s been eating what you’ve made without complaint for weeks now. You opt to keep it simple—pasta with homemade meat sauce, a nice loaf of bread and a couple bottles of wine. 

While the sauce is simmering on the stove you get ready. You dress for comfort, a simple pair of leggings and a flowy top that hangs slightly off your shoulders.  You catch your reflection in the mirror and give yourself a silent nod of encouragement. Despite this just being dinner, the night brims with the possibility of maybe something more. 

Once the food is prepared, you carefully pack everything in a large basket and begin the walk to Logan’s cabin. The night is cool, but still holds the warmth of day and the promise of summer to come. You feel your anticipation heighten the closer you get to his place and your stomach drops when you see it appear up ahead. 

It’s just Logan, you remind yourself. 

Stepping up onto his porch, you give a hesitant knock at the door. He greets you almost instantly and you suck in a deep breath. Logan looks good and your heart does a flip as you take him in—well fitting jeans, a clean white shirt underneath a soft red flannel button down, his hair is still slightly damp from a shower. 

“You’re early,” he comments, standing aside to let you in. You catch the slight frown tug at his mouth as he notices the basket. “You coulda cooked here, you know.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t know if you’d want me invading your space,” you reply, following him deeper into the cabin and setting the basket down on the counter. 

Logan turns back towards you, bracing his hands against the counter. “I don’t mind you in my space.”

His words hang in the air between you and you can feel your pulse quicken. You glance up at him, and the way he’s looking at you—steady and unflinching—sends a thrill down your spine. 

You clear your throat, trying to settle the nerves in your chest. “Next time then,” you say lightly, hoping he can’t hear the slight waver in your voice. 

Logan’s lips quirk into a half smile. “Next time,” he agrees. 

He reaches into a cabinet above him, pulling down a couple of plates and glasses, setting a small table in the corner of the small kitchen. You keep yourself busy unpacking the food, arranging the bread, pasta and sauce on the table, working around him as he uncorks the wine and pours both of you a glass. 

Logan joins you then, raising his glass and clinking it gently against yours. He nods in a silent cheers and tips his head back as he drinks, his eyes never leaving yours. You can’t suppress the shiver that shoots down your spine.

Setting down his glass, he serves you and then himself, commenting, “This smells amazing.”

“Family recipe,” you reply, taking another sip wine. “Remind me to make it for you when I have fresh tomatoes. It’s even better then.”

“I’ll have to do that,” he says with a smile.

Conversation starts off slow, but not awkward, as you both test the limits of what you’re wiling to share. Logan’s answers are often short, reserved, but what he does reveal helps bring into focus the outline of the man before you. An outline you’re hoping he’ll let you fill in.

“George says you’re a mutant,” you start slowly and you don’t miss the way his posture stiffens, his fork scraping harshly against the plate. 

He goes still and you wonder if you fucked up. Crossed a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross.

Eventually, Logan’s eyes flick up to yours and he lets out a small hum. “He did, did he?”

You nod, chewing. “It doesn’t bother me.”

He’s quiet for a beat. “It bothers most people.”

“I’m not most people,” you reply, your voice soft. 

Something in his face softens then, the furrow of his brow a little less pronounced. A slight smile plays at his lips. “No. No you’re not.”

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest and your face flushes. Taking another bite, you ask, “Can I see?”

Logan studies you for a moment and you can see him deciding whether or not to show you that part of him he’d rather keep hidden. He sets the silverware down and he flexes his fingers before resting his palms back on the table. Then, he unsheathes his claws and you can’t stop the gasp that falls from your lips. 

You see him flinch at your reaction and he goes to retract his claws and you reach for him. “Don’t,” you say, your fingers hovering just above the blades. 

As he relaxes, you gently rest your fingertips against the metal, finding it surprisingly cool but still holding a faint warmth from his body. His eyes drop to where you’re touching him as you slowly begin to trace each blade with your fingers, following the slight curve down to where they emerge from his skin. You look up at him, finding his gaze fixed on you and you shiver under the intensity. 

“They’re beautiful,” you whisper. You feel him shudder beneath you as he retracts his claws, leaving your fingertips nestled against the skin between his knuckles. 

You pull your hand away from his, mourning the loss of his skin against yours. Logan clears his throat and pulls his hands into his lap, glancing down at them as if they’re foreign, something he’s never taken the time to notice before. He flexes his fingers once more before dragging his gaze back to your face.

“Do they hurt?” you ask quietly.

He shakes his head. “No. Not anymore.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “Thank you for showing me.”

Logan studies you for a long moment, searching your face like he’s trying to figure you out. You know he’s probably not used to this, someone seeing him as something other than a mutant, an aberration, someone who should be hidden away. Then, his face softens.

“People don’t usually ask,” he says quietly.

You smile gently, feeling that flame inside you burn just a bit brighter. “I just want to know you.”

He leans back in his chair, his gaze still steady, but more open, as if some of those invisible walls he surrounds himself with have started to come down. If only just enough to let the light shine through. 

An unspoken tension simmers, thickening the air, and you know he can feel it too, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s heavy with promise. You turn your attention back to your plate and for a few moments, neither of you speak.

“So,” you say after a beat, “Do you ever use them as forks?”

Logan huffs out a laugh, the sound surprising you and his eyes crinkle in genuine amusement. “I can’t say that I have,” he replies with a smile.

You grin. “You should give it a try.”

“If I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

The rest of dinner passes with easy conversation and you feel your nerves begin to settle, just a bit. Logan seems less guarded too, more at ease than you’ve ever seen him.

You help him clear the table, ignoring his request that you just sit and relax. As you stand next to him, emptying the leftovers into a container, you feel his eyes on you. When you hand him the container, your fingers brush again, but this time he doesn’t immediately pull away. His fingers linger just a bit longer than necessary and your breath catches in your throat.

“Thanks for dinner, he says quietly, voice low. “And for…understanding.”

You nod, feeling that unmistakable pull between you, the tug that’s kept you orbiting closer and closer to him. “Anytime, Logan,” you answer softly. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, like he’s been burned before and is still figuring out if he can trust what you’re offering him. And you understand his turmoil, trust having shattered your heart into pieces, pieces you’re still trying to pick up and reshape. 

Logan steps a little bit closer then and before you can say anything else, his hand gently reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is simple but intimate and it sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling lowly in your belly.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let me walk you home.”

He grabs your basket before you can protest and you follow him out into the night. There’s a full moon hanging heavy in the sky, illuminating the path in front of you, yet you remain close to Logan. You curse to yourself as you trip over an exposed root and then you feel Logan reach out for you, his fingers wrapping securely around your own. The heat of his palm against yours is almost overwhelming.

Your cabin comes into view and Logan slows, his fingers slipping from your grasp as he sets the basket down on the porch.

“Good night, Logan,” you say softly as you walk up the steps. 

As you turn from him, he reaches for your wrist, his fingers curling and pressing hotly against your skin. Your breath hitches as he climbs the steps to join you on the porch, and your gasps dies in your throat as he tilts your chin up and forces you to meet his gaze. 

“Do I make you nervous?” His voice is low, breath hot and damp against your skin. 

“Yes,” you breathe, somehow inching closer to him, your fingers reaching for the hem of his flannel and twisting into the fabric. 

“Why?” He brushes his nose against yours and you chase after the touch. 

Swallowing hard, you look up at him from under your lashes. You tilt further into him, your mouth hovering just over his. “Because I haven’t felt like this in a very long time and I don’t want it to go away.” Don’t want you to go away. 

Logan nods and whispers, “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” And then he presses his mouth to yours. 

It’s soft, barely a hint of skin against skin, but when you whisper, “Please,” against his lips, Logan growls and then he’s everywhere. His kiss claims you, his tongue licking in your mouth and you whimper as his fingers curl along the nape of your neck somehow pulling you impossibly closer. 

You wind your arms around his shoulders, your fingers tangling in the short strands at the back of his head. Your entire world is focused down to the feel of his lips on yours and the press of his fingers against your jaw as he pulls you towards his hungry mouth. 

Logan’s grip on you tightens, one hand splayed across your lower back and the other pressed firmly between your shoulder blades, anchoring you to him. The heat between you is palpable, each movement of his lips setting you further aflame. You lose track of time, lost in the sensation of his beard scraping against your skin, leaving a tingling trail in its wake.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless and his forehead rests against yours, your shared breaths mingling in the space between you. His eyes are dark and intense as they search your face and you feel untethered, Logan being the only thing keeping you grounded.

“You okay?” he asks, voice rough, but surprisingly tender as his thumb traces along the line of your jaw.

You nod, swallowing the lump that’s formed in your throat. You don’t trust yourself to speak.

His lips quirk into a small smile. “Good.” He brushes a stray strand of hair away from your cheek, his hand lingering at the side of your face. He presses one last soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before he steps back and walks down the path back home.

+++

You can’t stop thinking about the kiss—Logan’s lips against yours, the taste of his tongue, the press of his hands against your skin, hot and heavy, yet gentle. 

You want to live in that moment forever. Want to know only his kisses for the rest of your life, for him to be the first person you kiss good morning and the last person you kiss goodnight. For him to kiss you just because he can, because he misses you, because he can’t get the feel of your mouth out of his mind and he needs to feel you again pressing against him. 

You also want to run away, hide yourself from these emotions that are overwhelming you and leaving you feeling raw and exposed and absolutely terrified. You haven’t kissed another man in two years and he broke your heart, leaving nothing but shattered pieces and dust in his wake. Dust that still clings to you despite your best efforts to sweep it up. Those pieces of your heart are still sharp, jagged where they should be smooth. 

You’ve always been trusting, choosing to see the light in others as opposed the darkness. Believing deep down that everyone deserves kindness, deserves a second chance, that one bad deed does not a bad person make. But he stole a part of that from you and you hate him for it. Hate that even now, after all this time, he’s able to worm his way into your brain and make you question the motives of the man who’s made you feel more alive than you have in months. 

Last night you felt unshackled, unbound by the fear that had chained you for so long. You felt as if Logan’s very touch, his presence, had set your soul on fire and instead of fearing the burn, you were ready to embrace the warmth. 

But now, raw contempt begins to simmer in your veins and you need something to pour your frustration into before it threatens to consume you whole. 

Throwing your hair up into a messy bun and throwing on a paint-stained shirt and ripped jeans, you head outside looking for a project to sink fingers into. In the small shed behind the cabin, you find a few gardening supplies—a small shovel, trowel, bow rake—and you drag them out and to the overgrown flower beds.

You don’t even bother with the tools at first, ripping at the dead growth with your bare hands, pulling it from the earth in great clumps and tossing it aside. Your pulse beats loudly in your ears as you move from bed to bed, clawing away the old growth, your breathing growing ragged and your palms staining with dirt.

Grabbing the rake, you dig at the remaining plants, tearing at the roots, destroying the new growth. Tears run hotly down your face, blurring your vision and your throat aches from force of your breathing and screams you’ve been holding back.

From behind you, you hear the sound of your name and you whip around so quickly, the rake goes flying from your hands. You can hear the snikt of Logan’s claws as they unsheathe and the splintering of wood as he deflects the rake flying at him. It clatters to the ground between you as he retracts his claws and looks at you, his brow furrowed in concern.

You wonder, then, exactly what you look like in that moment. Dirt caked on your hands and under your fingernails, cheeks flushed with exertion, hair a halo of disarray. The pure adrenaline you’d been running on wanes and your limbs suddenly feel heavy and you sink to the ground in front of him. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, because you’re afraid of what you’ll see.

Logan approaches you slowly, kneeling down in front of you and gently raising your chin to look up at him. The stark worry etched on his face makes you ache and fresh tears burn in your eyes. You wipe at your eyes, which only serves to smear dirt across your face.

“I’m terrified, Logan,” you whisper, wanting to reach for him, but afraid to touch him. “I terrified of how much I like you.”

“You scare me too,” he confesses softly and your heart breaks.

He leans closer, fingers resting hesitantly against your knees. You reach for him too, grabbing on to the open sides of his jacket and pulling him to you. Logan doesn’t flinch, doesn’t push back and instead envelopes you into his arms, your head resting against the solid warmth of his chest. 

Safe in his arms, you cry. Harsh, broken sobs as he rubs your back, the soft caress of his fingers along your spine anchoring you to him as he holds you. He murmurs into your hair that he’s got you, to let it all out, and you do.

Eventually, you calm and sigh, pressing your forehead against his chest, loathe to move just yet. “I’m broken, Logan,” you mumble into his shirt. You look up at him then, the softness and concern on his face making you physically ache. “I still have broken pieces where I should be whole.”

Slowly, tentatively, he brings his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. His thumbs brush at the dirt and tears under your eyes and he smoothes the hair away from your forehead. “Maybe some of my pieces fit,” he says, voice low, but steady. 

His words send a flood of emotion through you, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Then the gravity of what he’s saying hits you—he’s offering you himself, all his jagged and scarred pieces, the pieces no one else sees.

The pieces he wants you to see.

You lean forward, pressing the lightest of kisses against the corner of his mouth. His sigh is hot against your cheek, but he doesn’t press further. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his skin and somehow it feels like the most important thing you’ve ever said.

“C’mon,” he says, “Let me help you get this cleaned up.”

You nod, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.  Logan stands, offering you his hand. You take it, your fingers slipping into his and his grip is steady, yet gentle as he helps you up. 

Without a word, Logan grabs the broken rake and begins removing the debris from the beds you laid waste to. You watch him work for a moment before joining in, pulling the weeds from the beds you hadn’t gotten to yet. Every now and then your eyes meet, but you don’t say anything. You don’t feel the need to fill the space with words, his presence beside you speaking volumes more than he could ever say. 

After a while, Logan pauses and looks over at you, wiping the dirt from his hands into his jeans. “You still got those seeds I gave you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Go get ‘em,” he says nodding towards the cabin. “We’ll plant something new.”

You retrieve the small pouch where you’ve kept it safe and come out to find Logan kneeling in the dirt, his fingers making small pockets of earth to house the new flowers. He looks up at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You join him on the ground, dropping a few seeds in each well as he moves to create the next one. 

“I’m not very good at this,” Logan starts, covering the last well with dirt, “but I promise I won’t break you. You don’t gotta be scared of me.”

He looks at you then, his hazel eyes meeting yours and you reach for his hand, your thumb brushing across his dirt stained knuckles. 

“No,” you reply with a smile, “I don’t think I do.”

+++

It’s been three days since that moment with Logan in the garden and the air between you has been quiet. Logan hasn’t come by the cabin, but you hadn’t sought him out either. You weren’t avoiding him, exactly. More a need for space, a chance to process the feelings you felt for him, to test if you were truly ready to open yourself up to him.

Your mind never strays far from him, though. An almost constant loop plays in your brain of the way he held you, the way he spoke, the quiet promise he made not to break you. There’s a large part of you that believes him; your heart is screaming at you shed your lingering doubt and trust him, but your rational brain is grasping desperately to the kernel of truth that vows can be broken. 

So you turn to what you do best—pour your energy into other things. The cabin is spotless now, cleaned of disuse and age, turned into a cozy place of retreat, a simple shelter turned into a home. And yet…

You’re sitting on the porch, watching the sun dip lower in the sky, the book you’d been trying to read long forgotten. The forest is peaceful, alive with the sounds of early summer. But as calming as it is, you can’t ignore the ache in your chest—you miss him. More than you thought possible.

Just as you’re about to stand, the sound of boots against gravel catches your attention. You look up and there he is—Logan. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jacket as he walks up the path. His look is cautious, as if he’s unsure whether or not you’ll accept his presence. 

Your heart skips a beat and you stand, wiping your palms against your jeans as he draws closer. His hazel eyes meet yours and there’s something softer about him, something open.

He stops a few feet away from you, gaze steady. “I wasn’t sure if I should come by.” His voice is still gruff, but quieter than usual. “If you needed space or not.”

“I did, need space. But not from you,” you clarify. You take a hesitant step towards him. “I missed you.”

Logan sighs then, his posture relaxing just slightly. “I wanted so badly to see you. I didn’t know if I should stay away.”

Before you can second guess yourself, you step down from the porch, closing the distance between you. You stand in front of him, noticing the faint lines of tension around his mouth, the way his jaw is clenched as if bracing himself for your rejection. 

“Don’t stay away,” you say softly, “I want you here.”

You reach for him, your fingers brushing against his hands as you pull them from his pockets. Logan doesn’t pull away and the warmth of his skin against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world. You feel it then, that familiar pull—the one that’s been there since the beginning, drawing you closer and closer into his orbit, his sun.

You brush your thumbs across his knuckles and look up at him. “You wanna come inside?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll make you something to eat?”

Logan nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

As you lead him inside, something in the air between you shifts, something subtle. But you know one thing for certain—you’re not afraid anymore. Not of this.

+++

The sun has set, the food long gone and as Logan’s hand reaches for the front door, you slip in front of him. His scent overwhelms you, that earthy dampness you’ve come to associate with him flooding your senses. 

“What if you stayed?” you ask, the slight waver in your voice betraying your boldness. 

You watch as his eyes darken and he leans even further into your space. “Do you know what you’re asking, sweetheart?” he replies, eyes searching your face. 

Swallowing, you nod. “I do,” you whisper. 

Then you slide your arms around his waist, pulling him closer as you lean in and kiss the hollow of his throat. You can feel him swallow hard beneath your lips and you smirk into his skin as you drag your mouth higher, over the long column of his neck to nip at the corner of his jaw. 

“Stay,” you murmur in his ear.

Logan turns, his nose brushing against your cheek as he seeks your mouth and you inhale deeply as his lips find yours. His fingers wind themselves into your hair, resting against the nape of your neck as he pulls you closer. You whimper into his mouth when he pulls back, eyes blown black.

“Show me where,” he says, his voice low.

You lead him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours and you barely make it to the top before Logan’s spinning you around, mouth finding yours. His is kiss is demanding, so different from that first one all those nights ago. This is urgent and desperate, like he can’t possibly get you close enough to satisfy the need deep within him. And you feel it too, pouring yourself back equally into the kiss, moaning as his tongue finally slips alongside yours. 

Your fingers fumble along the top of his jeans, pulling his shirt from where it’s tucked and sliding your hands up along the sides of his ribs. He rewards you with a deep groan of his own, nipping slightly at your bottom lip.

“Christ, sweetheart,” he rumbles against your lips, kissing you once, twice, “I’ve been dyin’ to feel your hands on me.”

“Me, too,” you reply, gasping as his hands find the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to brush his fingers hotly along your skin. 

Logan pulls back just enough to look down at your face, his fingers still clutching the fabric of your shirt, but lifting it just a bit higher. His gaze is questioning, asking for silent permission to continue. You nod once and he slowly drags the shirt up, his fingers skimming along your sides, over the swells of your breasts as he pulls the shirt over your head. 

Despite the heat coursing through your veins, you shiver under the intensity of his stare. He kisses you again, inhaling deeply, before moving down, nipping over your chin, your throat, in between your breasts. 

Logan’s hands follow his mouth, running a trail from your shoulders, down long your spine, easily flicking open the clasp of your bra on the way. He glances up at you as he moves to pull the straps aside, dragging them down your arms. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, thumbs fanning out across your nipples.

A jolt of pleasure shoots down your spine and pools low in your belly. You feel like you might spontaneously catch on fire and he’s barely touched you. You can’t remember ever feeling like this when a man has touched you, so consumed by want and need.

His fingers trail lower, brushing along the top of your jeans, popping open the button. You grab for his hand, stopping him. You see the concern flicker across his face and you smile. “Your turn,” you say, sliding your palms up his chest and pushing the flannel from his shoulders, his shirt following suit.

You revel in his muscular physique, your fingers tracing along his collarbones, down over the broad planes of his chest, feeling the wiry hair beneath your fingertips. His muscles flutter beneath your touch as you follow the trail of hair lower, down to the vee between his hips. 

Logan’s arousal is evident by the tenting of his jeans, and your eyes locked on his, you dip lower, giving the faintest of caresses over the fabric.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he curses. “Take your pants off.”

It’s a command, not an ask, and one you’re more than willing to comply with. 

Nervous energy licks at your skin as your fingers tuck into the waistband of your jeans and pull them down. Logan follows your lead, unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans over his hips, kicking them aside. His cock juts out proudly, thick and heavy, nestled in a bed of hair.

Logan’s on you before you can kick away the last leg, hoisting you up under your thighs and forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. His palms are hot against your ass and you can feel his cock trapped between you. 

He moves you both to the bed, setting you down before crawling over you and slotting himself between your thighs. Leaning back on his heels, he stares down at you, skin flushed. He kisses you softly once, before dragging a single finger down the center of your chest, hooking it into the waistband of your panties. 

“What do you like?” he asks lowly, eyes boring into yours.

You stare at him, unable to comprehend his question as he slides his finger back and forth across your skin. Electric sparks of anticipation crawl up your spine and you can feel the rapid flutter of your heart against your ribs. 

“You want me to touch you with my fingers?” His voice is low, so low and you shiver. 

Your mouth has gone dry and you can only nod. 

“You want me to touch you with my mouth?” Logan leans down, skimming his lips across your collarbone, nipping lightly. 

Your fingers stutter across his shoulders and wind themselves into his hair. Logan’s smirk presses into the corner of your jaw. “Want me to touch you with both?”

“Please,” you whine into his neck, breath hot against his skin. 

Logan trails back down your body, kisses peppering over your neck, both breasts, your belly before he presses a kiss to the top of your clothed mound. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and looks up at you, asking for permission. At your nod, he pulls he material down, eyes never leaving yours as he trails his fingers down your legs and tosses the fabric aside.

You’re fully bare, exposed in a way you haven’t been in a long time and your nerves blush across your skin. Instinctively, you try to close your legs, but he stops you, his hot palms curling against your thighs.

“You don’t gotta hide from me,” Logan says, kissing your knee and spreading your legs further apart. “You’re so pretty like this. Flushed and wet and smelling so sweet for me.”

A jolt of desire zips down your spine. Nothing could have prepared you for the filthiness of words that would spill from his mouth. Or how much you’d enjoy hearing them.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” you murmur.

“That’s not possible.”

“Other men have—“

Your words die in your throat as Logan grips your chin, forcing your gaze up to his face. His expression is soft, but his eyes flash with a glint of something dark. “When I fuck you, I’ll be the only man in your bed, understand?”

The roughness and edge in his voice makes you shiver and heat pools between your thighs. You swallow heavily and nod.

“I want this,” he says, his tone softer. “I want you. Whatever you’ll give me.”

Slowly, you reach for his hand and guide his fingers to where you’re wet and aching for him. At the first brush of his fingertips against your folds, you gasp and your fingers dig deeper into his skin. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” Logan coos. “I’m gonna make you feel good.”

And then he’s touching you, fingers dragging through your arousal before circling around your clit. He caresses you like he knows you and you’re molten beneath him. One finger, then two slip inside you, pressing against that spot that makes you squirm and grip at the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck,” you breathe, “You weren’t lying.” Logan quirks an eyebrow, fingers still curling within you, his rhythm picking up speed. “You are good with your hands.”

His chuckle rumbles through his chest as he continues to move, this thumb working over your clit. Your hips jolt off the bed when Logan replaces his thumb with his tongue, drawing the sensitive bud into his mouth. 

He continues to work your cunt, long, flat presses of his tongue against your clit punctuated by the short, sharp thrusts of his fingers. The dual sensation is enough to wind that tension in your core tighter, building you up higher and higher until you feel yourself reaching that inevitable peak.

“Logan, I—I’m so close,” you gasp, fisting your fingers into his hair.

His growl against your cunt is enough to send you over the edge, the vibrations rippling through your body as your orgasm washes over you. Through half lidded eyes, you meet his gaze from between your thighs, his eyes dark with desire and you shiver at the intensity of his stare.

Logan crawls over you, pressing a kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips, bright and sour, as he licks into your mouth. 

“Do you trust me?”

Logan’s fingers are still moving against you, wringing out the last of your orgasm and you can only nod. He withdraws his fingers and you whine, but he just smirks and taps your hip. 

“Turn over,” he commands lowly. 

A shudder ripples through you as you willingly comply, rolling onto your stomach as Logan’s palm trails from your hip over the swell of your ass. His fingers kneed into your flesh and you squeak as he curves them over your skin, pulling you up onto your knees, drawing your hips flush with his. The thick feel of his cock presses into your ass and you can’t help but push back, enjoying the strangled moan that falls from his lips. 

“I can’t wait to be nestled deep inside you,” he groans, slotting his cock between your thighs, running the length along your wet cunt. 

You peer over your shoulder and smirk at him. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Logan lines up then and the air punches out of your lungs as he slowly eases himself in to the hilt. He’s deep at this angle and you feel claimed, owned in the best way possible as he begins to move his hips. The drag of his cock against your walls is exquisite and you’re sure you’ve never experienced pleasure quite like this before. 

His fingers dig into the flesh at your hips, grabbing as much as he can to pull you back into him and you push back, meeting him thrust for thrust. His grip is enough to be bruising, teetering that line between pleasure and pain and yet you relish it. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps. “Look so good stretched around my cock.”

Pleasure zips along your spine and curls along your limbs, each drag of his cock against you coiling that band in your belly tighter and tighter. Yet, you need more. You need to feel him, feel his arms around you, on you, feel his mouth hot and open against your skin.

“I need to feel you closer,” you whine. “Please, I—”

Logan’s arm slips underneath you, curling just under your breasts and pulling your back flush to his chest. He holds on, fingertips splaying across your ribcage as he fucks up into you, his breath hot and damp against your ear. 

You turn your head just enough to capture his lips, your mouth pressing against his in an open-mouthed kiss. He steals the moan from your throat as his other hand dips to where you’re joined, fingers beginning to circle around your clit. 

Slipping a hand into his hair, you hold him to you, your head falling back onto his shoulder. Logan groans when you rake your nails along his scalp and you do it again. Your mixed groans and the wet noises from where he’s thrusting into you fill the room and time seems to stop. There is nothing but the thick feel of him between your legs, the fervent press of his fingers against your clit and the tight grasp of his hand across your breast. 

A litany of praise falls from his mouth and his words burn through you, setting you aflame from the inside. It’s too early for thoughts of love and forever, but you can feel something real, something undeniable pulling you together, uniting you in a way more than just physical. You’re bound to him. 

Logan’s hand slides up your sternum, his fingers coming to cup your jaw, pulling your focus back to him. The pad of his thumb pulls at your lower lip. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he husks into your ear. “I wanna hear those pretty sounds you make.”

And you do, two more forceful thrusts sending you teetering over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you. Logan doesn’t stop, fucking you through wave after wave, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chases his own release. 

“Let me feel you, Logan,” you pant, your breath coming out in short gasps. “Please.”

With a deep groan into your shoulder he comes, his cock spasming deep within you, painting your womb with his seed. His arm around your hips holds you firmly in place as he uses your body to wring out the last of his pleasure, shallowly thrusting as your walls caress him. When he finally stills, breath hot against your skin, you can feel your combined come slick against your thighs. 

You don’t know how long he holds you like that, back to chest, keeping you in his arms simply because he can. 

Only later, when the sweat begins to cool on your skin and your flesh pebbles, does Logan lay you down, finally slipping from within you. He pulls you close and you rest your head against his chest, the comforting lull of his heartbeat echoing in your ear. 

You lightly trace your fingertips over the crest of his hipbone just to feel him beneath you. His breathing evens out, approaching that blissful edge of sleep when you glance up at him. Logan opens his eyes, gaze meeting yours and he smiles.

“Logan?”

His hum vibrates through his chest.

“I think we’re healing each other.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he answers, “I think we are.”

[kyokutsu-sama]

Headcanons

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Their reaction when you tell them you're pregnat

Characthers: Rengoku, Gyomei, Sanemi, Tengen

A/n: Posting one of my thousands of Headcanon drafts for kny characters😅 This one is also to celebrate 1k followers❤️

I hope you like it✨️

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Rengoku :

He had been away for a few days on a mission and you were feeling a little anxious. Especially after the moment you found out you were pregnant. "Well, it seems like the night before his mission had paid off..." You thought But now you were a little afraid since you carried something very fragile inside you and you were alone at that moment. "Come back to me, Kyojuro." You whispered as you walked around inside the house When the front door opened, you felt your heart lighten but soon after you remembered that you had something to tell him but didn't know how to say it to him. And then you started to get nervous again. "Honey, I'm back." Rengoku said with his usual cheerful and loud voice as he took off his shoes and put his sword aside "Kyo!" You smiled and ran into his arms when you saw him. "I'm so happy to have you back. I missed you so much." You said, hugging him tightly "And I've been missing you so much too. How are you?" "I'm fine." You said, moving away from him and looking down, trying to avoid meeting his big, flaming eyes that were watching you. The hashira noticed that you were acting a little strange and that you were hiding something, so he couldn't help but insist. "Are you sure? You seemed a little downcast just now." He said, holding your hands and caressing them, and you just nodded. "Yeah, I'm really fine" You said, looking at him now. You stared at each other for a moment until you realized that you hadn't convinced the flame Hashira. You then sighed and closed your eyes for a moment before giving him the big news. "Kyo, I have something to tell you..." You said a little nervous "Tell me then?" "I'm...I'm pregnant" You said and he was completely speechless "No, wait, are you seriously?" He said with shining eyes and a huge smile on his face. "Are you really? For real?" "Yes" You nodded and he took you in his arms, spinning you around as he celebrated the new If there was one thing he wanted most one day it was to have children and after what you had told at that time, he had never felt so happy. "I love you so so much, my dear." He said kissing every corner of your face and putting you on the floor "I love you too." You said, hugging him "I will protect you from any danger. You, and this precious little thing here." He said caressing your belly and you smiled, feeling your eyes watering "Thank you" You smiled at him

Gyomei :

Gyomei had left very early that day to go to a quiet place outside, to pray. You woke up a little while later and he still hadn't come back. You sat down on the futon and felt very nauseous and ran to the bathroom to throw up. You knew the reason for that and it wasn't just nausea. There was something more. Gyomei didn't know anything yet and you hadn't thought about telling him either. You didn't know how he would react and besides, you were afraid after what he had experienced in the past with those children that he hadn't been able to protect. But you didn't want to do that to him and you couldn't bear the idea of ​​hiding something so serious from the man you loved so much. He had the right to now. When you left the bathroom and went to the bedroom, you were taken by surprise when you came across the big man in the middle of the room. His size never went unnoticed. "Oh Gyomei, you're back!" You said, trying to hide the nervousness. "Did everything go well?" "Yes, the outdoor spaces are great for giving you more concentration during prayers. What about you? Do you still feel nauseous?" He asked, sitting down on the futon, next to you "Yes, yes, I'm feeling better now." You said. The hashira had already noticed that you hadn't been well for a few days and he also knew about the recent symptoms, but unlike you, he didn't know the cause behind it. But you were about to tell him in that moment. "Gyomei...I need to tell you something." You approached him, sitting on his lap and holding one of his hands "Is something happening to you, Y/n?" He asked, worried about your low voice "It's nothing bad, but it's just..." "What?" You then guided his strong, veiny hand to your belly and left it there for a while. He could tell it was your belly through the touch but he still hadn't realized what you were trying to say. "Is this your belly?" He asked, gently caressing your skin "Yes,"You nodded with a little smile. "and I'm carrying your child here." You said and he paused for a moment, processing the words you had just said It didn't take long for you to see the tears falling from his eyes and running down his cheeks. He was easily moved but that news made him more sensitive than anything else he had witnessed. "You...You're carrying something so fragile and so innocent here? Something so tiny and that has no perception of the world around it. Poor thing," Gyomei said, crying and making you cry too."I'll protect you two with my life. Even if I couldn't protect the others that night, I'll protect you. Thank you for giving me such beautiful new, you are everything to me."He said, hugging you "You too, I love you so much." You said, hugging him and feeling his arms wrap around you, keeping you safe. You were so relieved to know that he was happy with the news. He would undoubtedly be a great father and very protective.

Tengen :

The other wives had already started to notice signs in you that something wasn't right. The vague suspicion was already in the air, but you still hadn't told them anything even after knowing what was happening to you Although Makio is very suspicious that it might be true "But haven't y'all seen it yet? It's obvious that she's pregnant!" Makio said to you and to Hinatsuru and Suma, who were looking at you "But how do you know? It could just be something I ate that made me sick." You replied. "You're joking right ? How could someone spend almost a month throwing up as soon as you wake up, feeling nauseous because of smells or having food cravings that would make anyone else sick. Go head, tell me?" Makio crossed his arms and you looked away "Come on, don't argue. That won't solve anything," Hinatsuru said, trying to calm the situation. "Y/n, did something happen between you and Tengen before he left for the mission?" She asked, turning her gaze to you and you snorted "Yes..." You nodded and looked down. "At least two weeks before he left and the day before the mission." "See? Don't you think that's more than enough to confirm it? Why do you still deny it?" Makio said, crossing her arms "Jeeez Makio, don't talk so rudely. Can't you see that she's not feeling well?" Suma scolded Makio. "Why? Did I lie ?" "Stop it already!" You shouted and everyone went silent."She's right. I found out a few days ago." You finally confessed "Oh, so it wasn't something you ate after all..." Makio said with a little, wry smile "I didn't want to say anything because you'd start making a fuss like you are doing now." "Ladies, your flashy husband is home!!" Tengen shouted from the entrance and the four of you quickly changed expressions."Look who's gathered here! Waiting for me? Where are my hugs at?"The sound hashira smiled and opened his arms to y'all The three wifes ran into his arms but you just sat there feeling a little nervous because of his presence. "Y/n, what's with that face? Come here." Tengen said approaching you and you stood up to hug him. "Are you okay?" He leaned in to whisper in your ear but you just pulled away and looked at him with your lips curved up in a tiny smile "Tengen, I have something to tell you." You said holding his hands "What does my dear wife have to tell me?" "I'm pregnant." "WHAT!!?" Tengen's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise "Yes, you're going to be a father." You smiled at him "I can't believe it. That sounds so flashy. Come here, princess!" Tengen picked you up and kissed you with joy "Tengen, put me down!" You said, patting his shoulder, but he ignored you "My son will be the most flashy ever." He said with a wide smile and kissing you again "Give me a kiss too, Tengen!!" Suma whimpered from the back of the room "Me too!" Makio said Hinatsuru just chuckled at the two of them. She was so happy for you and would do anything to take care of you and keep you safe.

Sanemi :

Sanemi hadn't been home all day and you had just arrived from the Butterfly Mansion after asking Shinobu to run some exams on you after you had been feeling unwell lately. You thought it was nothing special, never even imagining that it could be something as serious as pregnancy. You sat on the couch looking at some random corner still trying to process what she had told you before. It wasn't like you weren't already expecting it (because there was a reason for that), but it was still a surprise for you. You thought a lot about his reaction and what he would say. You weren't sure if he would like it or if he was ready to be a father. You looked so confused at that moment. Your thoughts were gone when the front door closed and Sanemi came into the house. You got up from the couch and a short while later he entered the living room. "Sanemi, I'm glad you're here." You went to him and hugged him "Yeah, it was a hard and tiring day..."He gave a long, tired sigh."If you keep hugging me, you'll start to smell like sweat and disgusting demon blood." He said, caressing your back with one hand "Disgusting!" You giggled. "You're really dripping with sweat." "I told you. I need a shower, are you coming with me?" He looked at you with a suggestive look, but you looked away. "Nemi, I need to tell you something first..." "What?" "Remember when I said I had to do some exams at the butterfly mansion a few weeks ago?" "Yes, why?" "The results came out today." "So?" "Nemi... I'm pregnant." You said, looking into his eyes, which widened in surprise at your words "You... You what?" The wind hashira was still confused by the news. "Is this serious?" "Yes." You confirmed again The wind hashira was speechless, he just pulled you towards him to hug you tightly and give you the greatest sense of security you had ever felt. You could have sworn you felt his heart melt at that moment. Sanemi wasn't the type to show affection as proof of love, he spoke with actions, but they could be harsh and rigid sometimes. Although it was different with you. He had a horrible father in his past. Both for him and for his siblings and his mother. All that mistreatment left its mark on him, but he swore not to repeat the cycle if he were to be a father one day. "I will protect you with my life. You are carrying my son now, I will not let any creature get to you, much less any person to hurt you. You are under my protection, you and my little brat." He whispered next to your ear as one of his hands went to your belly. "Are you happy about this, Sanemi?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him "You have no idea how much." Sanemi said before kissing you with passion. "You are giving me a family. Why wouldn't you be happy, huh?" He poked your nose and you smiled."Come here, let's take a bath." He said, carrying you in his arms

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Foodie turned Imposter?!

Part 2: Sweet Flowers

[ part 1 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 3 ]

divider is made by @saradika-graphics

Walking around you'd slowly realize you were in Mondstadt, based from the bundle of regional specialties you held in your arms. The orange makeshift bouquet of windwheel asters spun around like a regular pinwheel. Seeing that sight brought a small smile on your face, your walk around Mondstadt was peaceful, you hadn't run into unnecessary troubles so maybe your worries were for nothing.

Yeah, nvm — [Name]

You felt your stomach grumble, famished you were. But the city seemed to be nearing in the distance. Perhaps you can wait till then, but then you remember how broke you were and sighed, staring at the orange flowers in your arms. You wonder if you can sell it.

Money was definitely going to be an issue, as well as acquiring a roof over your head. Depending on the timeline, the only place left, may already be booked by the Fatui Delegates.

Food could be remedied by foraging sunsettias and wild crops.

"Oh a waypoint!" excitedly you run up to the red, unactivated waypoint and quickly you did the first thing that came to mind, slapping it with your hand.

The monument gave a hum of life before it turned blue and activated. "So that works at least" you hummed, inspecting it curiously. Up close and in real life, you could see the intricate design chiseled into the material.

Crouching down you wondered, could you use a waypoint? could you use one to go back home. . ?

"Well if I don't get to go back home, at least I don't have any more student debt" you chuckled hopelessly as you rubbed the water that pricked your eyes.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

By the time you arrived at Mondstadt, the sun was almost setting. The skies were starting to get painted with an orange and pink hue.

Perhaps you shouldn't have gotten distracted or drowned in your sentiments and emotions. .

You sniffed, hugging yourself at the cold unforgiving winds while the windwheel asters and sweet flowers (a new addition to your wildflower bouquet) were luckily still fresh despite the trials they had gone through with your short travel to the city.

The sweet flowers had a sweet fragrance, once that made you crave for some sweet snacks. You debated on whether you can eat the flower raw, it looked more like a daisy too. . you decided against it. It would be far more wiser to use it for cooking or sell it for money.

The gates to the city was weirdly enough unguarded, so you stood by it awkwardly wondering when the guards would come. Would it be okay to enter without informing the knights? After waiting a couple of minutes, you decided to walk inside the city, time was running out, it would be getting dark soon and if you couldn't afford a place by selling these asters, you decided to at least buy some essentials. A polearm maybe or a coat, and maybe join the adventurers guild and see if there are any freebies or a free uniform you could get, cause your pajamas and fluffy Cinnamoroll designed slippers aren't going to cut it with the outdoor lifestyle you'd no doubt put them through.

You frown as you stared down on your cinnamoroll slippers. . it was no longer a pristine white due to the mud you had stepped into. .

Walking into the city of Mondstadt you found the city strangely. . void of life. You wonder if the prologue had yet to start and Stormterror or rather Dvalin was bothering the region.

Morale would mean a whole time low, and probably meant that prices on essentials would have risen, or maybe hopefully they were giving donations and relief goods.

"Hello," A voice greeted you and you turned to the woman or rather doll that operated the desk of the adventurer's guild "Would you like to join the Adventurer's guild?"

The smile on the puppet's face sent shivers down your spine but you pushed those feelings aside as you nodded politely. "Alright then, would you please present me with your information," she handed you a clipboard and pen "And I'll get the standard uniform for you." and then the receptionist left for a moment.

You blinked, wasn't she going to ask you for your size? or did Katheryne came with special eyes that could measure a person's body to decide the perfect clothes?

You began writing some information down. Your name, your age and your birthday but you left your address and place of origin empty since you couldn't just put in [country] and [city name] could you??

Turning to look behind you, you met eyes with a couple of residents of the city, and politely you waved at them as a greeting. . only for them to gape at you and run away from your gaze.

Okay. . rude much? was it because you were an outlander or a foreigner??

"Here you go. Everything seems to be in order." You snap back to the desk to find the receptionist had returned and had long since taken the clipboard and was reading through your information. 'When did she—?'

Katheryne then placed a set of uniform and fortunately, boots, right in front of you and you sighed in relief. "Thank you" and just as your finger grazed the fabric the clothes disappeared in a warm yellow light.

“. . .”

“can I uh. . get another set of the uniform. ." your voice cracked in shame. But before you could say anything more—

"Halt! Who dares to trespass into the City!" She flinched, turning to the approaching Guards, the knights of Favonius based on their uniforms, they stared at you wide eyes and mouth agape "What the—"

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

For whatever reason you ended up in Jean's office, tied down and on the floor. The windwheel asters were left on the streets, possibly wilting, alone. . the sweet flowers were trampled when they were trying to restrain her. It's sweet scent long gone, replaced with something bitter.

Jean wasn't here, oh wait no, she was coming in. You could hear muffled voices from the door, strange, when had your hearing been this good?

"do they really have the face of our divine?" that was Jean right? "well we won't know if we don't enter and see for ourselves" that suggestive yet sweet and soft voice was definitely Lisa's.

Were they talking about you?

What the hell did they mean by 'face of their divine?'

for some reason it was like a cold bucket of water was poured onto you, it was cold and terrifying and you started to shiver.

The door opened and Jean and Lisa did enter, as you craned your neck to look behind you, past the door you could see groups of knights who looked at each other with emotions you could vaguely pinpoint, horrified, worried, anger. .

"My my, you really do have the face of our esteemed creator." Lisa, the ever beautiful librarian grabbed you by the chin, making you look at her as she studied your face with scrutinizing Green eyes. Your breath hitched.

"What do you think?"

"I don't sense anything special from them, maybe they truly are an imposter."

You gaped at the terms that were hurled at you, imposter?? nothing special?? okay those were unnecessary!

Jean and Lisa conversed with each other, as your brows furrowed at the growing uncertainty in your stomach. Something was wrong, when were the Steadfast Jean and the carefree Lisa this. . cold and heartless.

"Where are Kaeya and the others?" Jean asked. "They are still visiting the temples with the traveller. I left after finishing the temple I was assigned to." Lisa informed the blond who nodded at the information.

The acting grandmaster hummed "I suppose we should deal with the imposter before they return."

The sound of a blade being unsheathed made you pale, the color disappearing from your skin as you watched Jean approached you, sword in hand without hesitation. .

Was she really going to kill you?

"Wait— wait a second? Why the hell are you going to kill me? What did I even do? Sure I entered the city carelessly but that was because your knights were slacking—hic!"

You could feel cold metal on the skin around your neck, sweat started to gather as you froze under Jean's stare.

"You committed the most grave blasphemy, heresy against the most divine creator! To imitate her beloved's face is a crime punishable by death."

You backtracked "What did you mean by creator! Also also how is being born with my face a crime?! do you hear how stupid that shit sounds?! You're a knight isn't there a due process?!"

Before she could reply the windows rattled and rattled, the winds were strong, the sun had long set and it was dark yet you could see the dust and objects flying about dangerous due to the storm. .

Storm terror was here.

Quickly you stood up, gaining Jean's and Lisa's attention once more as you quickly ran towards the window, knocking Jean to the ground and grabbing her sword due to your pettiness. You stopped for a moment to cut the restraints off your wrists with the sword.

"Why don't you settle down" Lisa said with a sickening sweet voice as powerful electro manifested in her hands and—

you screamed.

For now the earlier chapters will be titled with ingredients rather than food or recipe names.

[osachiyo]

°˖✧✿✧˖°SO HOT!°˖✧✿✧˖°

VARIOUS GENSHIN MEN X FEM!READER

➳INCLUDING! kaeya, diluc, childe, zhongli

➳CONTENT WARNINGS! grown ass men going feral over sudresses, spanking, breeding, outdoor sex, choking, impact play, nipple play, cunnilingus, fellatio, only a liiiiitle bit of assplay etc

➳SUMMARY! you wear a sundress and your man just cannot keep it in his pants

MINORS DNI OR YOU'LL BE BURNT TO A CRISP !!(like signora)

Kaeya Alberich

It was a scorching summer day in Mondstadt, meaning the absolute perfect day for you to wear that skimpy see-through sundress you had bought a while back! You bought it last summer but alas, had no chance to wear it. So you decided to wear it this year. Nothing could go wrong right? You knew your boyfriend, Kaeya, would adore it.

..Right?

Your back was arched like a cat against the wall of the cathedral as Kaeya went down on you. His left hand pinning you against the wall as his right hand lifted your leg over his shoulder. You could feel him mouthing your soaked cunt. He fucking loved your taste. You could feel his tongue flicking over your clit in fast circles as he moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his voice making you lean your head back with your eyes squeezed shut. Your hand found it's way over to his dark blue locks, clutching it for dear life as he groaned and shoved his face impossibly further into your dripping pussy. He flattened his tongue and ran it over your slit multiple times before spreading apart your labia with his thumbs. He spit directly on your twitching hole before slurping it all up and shoving his tongue inside. This was so embarrassing. So fucking sinful but you couldn't get enough of it.

Atleast you were right about one thing, Kaeya definitely adored the sundress on you.

Diluc Ragnvindr

You had begged Diluc to rate some of your outfits while you showcased them to him. He, of course, was a little reluctant of course but agreed nonetheless. He just couldn't help but give in to your demands. You both were currently in your shared room, giving him a tiny fashion show with all of your adorable outfits. He rated almost everything ten out of ten because come on, you look gorgeous in everything. You changed into your little sundress that you had bought and it was a little more revealing than you thought it'd be but that's alright. A little skin never hurt nobody, right?

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Diluc slammed into you repeatedly, making a mess on the carpet beneath you. You were currently bent over the bed as your husband pounded into your tight, gooey hole. He already came two times inside of you but alas, he still craved for more. Seems like seeing you in that sundress switched something in him. His fingers rubbed tight and fast circles on your clit, coaxing you into your 3rd orgasm. Or was it your 4th? You honestly couldn't remember. Diluc groaned as he saw a creamy white ring around his cock every time he pulled out, just to shove it back in.

If you had known Diluc would react like that to the sundress, you would've worn it a long time ago.

Childe

You and your boyfriend, Childe, were on a cute little picnic-date today. You packed some sandwiches and other stuff as well. You also did some light makeup and wore a cute sundress too! You were really really happy to finally spend some time with your amazing boyfriend. Yes, he was the best boyfriend you could ask for but he was quite busy due to his fatui duties. So you really looked forward today. But upon arriving at the picnic spot, you realized your boyfriend wasn't too interested into eating the sandwiches, rather much more looking forward to ravishing you.

"F-fuck, Ajax! What if someone catches us?!" You complained, looking behind your shoulder at your boyfriend, who had you bent over a tree while he kneeled behind you, too focused on your ass to care about whatever you're yapping about. He caressed the back of your thigh, laughing, "They'd be real fuckin' lucky, baby. Now spread those legs a bit more, yeah?" You grumbled angrily but complied nonetheless, spreading your legs more. He flips your skirt up as he felt his mouth water upon seeing the damp spot on your lacy panties. He curled his finger around the waistband pulled it back, before letting it snap against your waist, making you jolt at the slight pain. He suddenly buried his face between your legs, his nose bumping against your ass. Ajax pushed your panties to the side before licking a long stripe from your clit to your twitching hole, making you shiver in pleasure. He smirked then landed a harsh slap against your right asscheek, making you cry out curses at him. He only laughed in response as he landed another slap on your other cheek. He spread your cheeks apart and blew on your twitching hole. You whispered in anticipation. He then plunged his tongue into your hole, while gripping your ass. You moaned in appreciation as you gripped the tree harder. Ajax slurped at your pussy like he had been deprived of water for days. Then suddenly, you felt his finger prodding at your other hole before slipping right in, making you arch your back and push yourself more into his face.

God he loved eating you out from the back.

Zhongli

It was the hottest day you've encountered in Liyue so far. What better time than now to wear the skimpiest fucking dress you owned? Luckily, your husband, Zhongli, wasn't quite affected by it. He still couldn't keep his eyes off of your pretty tits, though. But he was a level-headed man with self control. But then you just had to eat some darn ice cream. It was on a stick, as well. Then you just fucking had to accidentally spill it all over your tits, the creamy, milky white substance sticking to your little dress and coating your beautiful tits. You should've known better, really.

You gargled around Zhongli's fat cock down your throat while he gripped your hair tightly in his still-gloved hand. The ice cream was still on your tits, all dried and sticky on your soft skin. You were getting his cream on them next though, worry not. Your eyes rolled back as he tried to push himself even deeper in your already stuffed throat, his own head tipping back when you whined around his girth. "Just a little longer, little one," he'd grunt, while thrusting up wildly into your mouth.

Level headed man with self control your ass.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

[blindmagdalena]

Hide and Seek

18+ 6.2k homelander x f!reader. predator/prey, consensual non-consent, dirty talk, cockwarming, outdoor sex, oral sex, there's a lot. check AO3 for full tag list. shout out to @mari-thesimp and @whatevermonkey for the prompts that inspired this fic!

Nothing could have prepared you for the reality of this moment. The chase had sounded like such lighthearted fun in theory. A jaunt through the forest with your superpowered boyfriend never far behind, pursuing you through the woods. Upping the ante by agreeing to do it at night seemed—at the time—like simply removing the training wheels. You were wrong.

The pound of your heart nearly drowns out the sound of branches and woodland debris snapping under foot as you run blindly through the woods, the moon above barely serving illumination through the dense tree canopy. What you hadn’t realized at the start of all this was that your body wouldn’t know the difference between running for your life for fun, and running for your life for real.

A blast as sharp as a gunshot whips by overhead, bowing the trees with the force of it and startling a scream out of you. The startle causes you to lose your footing, and your momentum is too great to catch yourself. You hurdle forwards, rolling end over end into the mess of brambles, landing flat on your back, gasping for breath. You hear the thud of something landing in the distance. You lay there a moment, brain frantically recalibrating while you stare up at the dense tree cover, trying to catch your breath. That’s when a new sound cuts through the ambient sounds of the forest; someone whistling a cheery little melody. Shortly after that, you begin to hear footsteps. “You made it further than I thought you would,” Homelander calls into the night, his chipper tone replacing that jaunty whistle. “But c’mon. Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

You scramble to your feet, bracing against a tree to look wildly around yourself. It’s too dark to even make out his silhouette, but what you see instead turns your insides to ice. Maybe twenty feet away, two glowing red eyes cut through the black of the night, peering around until, abruptly, they lock onto you. The glow of them is just enough to illuminate the way Homelander’s lips pull into a sharp smile. “Got’cha.” Immediately, you take off running. There’s no thought behind it, nothing but the pure animalistic panic to escape. He may be the love of your life, but that was terrifying. The dense treeline breaks into a clearing, and you run for the path of least resistance, even as your muscles scream. A small hill near a babbling stream catches your eye, and though every breath you suck back makes your lungs burn, you push yourself to it, desperate for a place to hide. You skid to a stop just beyond the hill, and then hurl yourself back against it, clamping both hands over your mouth, screwing your eyes shut as you desperately try to quiet yourself.

The agreement was that Homelander would not utilize his x-ray vision. Your only hope was that the sound of the stream might mask the thunder of your heart beating in your chest. In this state of flight, you find it impossible to gauge the passage of time. It might be seconds that pass, it might be minutes. You can’t fathom it. Either way, it isn’t long before you begin to hear heavy booted footsteps crunching through the underbrush. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," Homelander's voice rings out, that wicked smile audible in his tone. "You can come easy, or you can come hard. You're mine either way." You bite into your own hand, tucking yourself further in against the grassy mound. His words hurl you into a dizzying haze of panic and excitement, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting, unsure if you should be running from or towards the honied voice calling you from the shadows. Abruptly, the sound of footsteps stops, and you are left with nothing but the thrum of your heartbeat, and the burble of the stream.Time passes, but still you hear nothing. Tentatively, you peer out around the edge of the mound, into the clearing where you heard him approaching. Seeing nothing, you cautiously rise to your feet and crane to get a better look. Empty. There isn’t a trace of him anywhere. There’s more light in the clearing, lending a touch to your bravery. You don’t need the cue of his eyes to see him here, but the fact he’s disappeared somewhere into the treeline worries you. You glance down to the river. Perhaps your sound-based subterfuge was successful, and he believes you kept moving forward. You take the opportunity to backtrack, and hopefully throw him off your trail. After all, if you get back to the cabin by yourself, you win this little game.

Not wanting to run the risk of him hearing you, you pick up a modest trot back towards the thicket you had emerged from. Reaching out to brace your hand on a passing tree, you scream when a crimson gloved hand closes suddenly around your wrist, another hand catching you around the waist and yanking you backwards, lifting you clean off your feet, and up into the air with him. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts. “Not so quick. We haven’t even gotten to enjoy the view together yet,” he says, his words warm huffs in your ear, prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. You thrash against him with everything you have in you, but you may as well be pounding against pure steel. He’s unyielding. Homelander drops back down onto the ground, and with unbelievable ease, spins you around to pin your back against the tree. Slotting his thigh between your legs, Homelander lifts you with just that. Effortlessly catching both of your wrists in a single hand, he traps them up above your head. He leans forward, his knee braced against the tree. “There’s my girl,” he purrs, lifting a hand to stroke your cheek. Any other day, you would lean into it. The rumble of his voice when he calls you his never fails to make you melt. Right now, however, the two of you are playing a game, and you aren’t going to be the one to ruin it.

You yank your face away from his hand, leaning as far as you can to the side. “Let me go,” you gasp, still thoroughly out of breath. “Mm, nope, no. That… That I don’t think I’ll ever do,” he says, catching your jaw tight between his leather clad fingers, yanking you back to face him, forcing you to meet his eyes, which flare a dim crimson. “You’re all mine, sweetheart.” Homelander kisses you hard, swallowing up the cry you give. You nearly succumb, you almost kiss him back before you remember yourself. Instead, you twist as violently as you can in his grasp, trying anything you can to gain leverage, but nothing works. He has you lifted off your feet, and he’s pressed in too close for you to utilize your legs against him. Meanwhile, he relishes your struggle. You can feel him smiling against your lips, followed by the hot wet press of his tongue. You yield to him only for the opportunity to bite down hard on the appendage. It’s soft beneath your teeth, but it doesn’t give. There’s nothing you could do that would damage him.

Homelander hums a delighted little noise, breaking the kiss. His smile is like that of a wolf, fangs and all. “Now you’re really getting me excited,” he says, punctuating it with a slow grind up between your legs, startling a moan out of you. He lets go of your face in favor of dragging his hand down your body, cupping your breast through your shirt and squeezing, making you keen. “I was gonna be a gentleman and take you back to the cabin, but if you’re gonna behave like a fucking animal–” he says, his rich, molasses sweet voice veering into a rough growl as he rips your shirt wide open, exposing your chest to the night chill, “–then I will gladly fuck you in the dirt like one.” Struggling against him only intensifies the friction of his thigh against your pussy, your clit throbbing against firm muscle behind the confines of your pants. You turn your head away as he kisses down your throat, wringing a gasp out of you when he bites down. You feel him chuckle against your skin, dragging his tongue over the stinging mark, his soft hair tickling along your jaw. “So, what’ll it be? You gonna behave for me?” He asks, drawing back to meet your stare. The question makes you ache, worsens the throb of your clit against his thigh. His perfect blonde locks are set askew now, giving him an untamed look. You feel as wild as he appears. Heart thundering in your chest, you make a play without a second thought, and you spit in his face, spattering the corner of his mouth and his cheek.

For a split second, Homelander looks sincerely shocked, his eyes wide. Slowly, he begins to laugh. The sound of it rolls chills all the way down your spine. You’ve never heard him sound this menacing. His tongue darts out to lick away the mess of it from the corner of his mouth. Pulling one of your hands down from above your head, he uses your palm to wipe it clean, turning his face to nuzzle into your hand, despite how you try to close it from him. When he looks at you, his pupils have reduced the blue of his eyes to a thin ring, making his eyes look almost completely black. His sharp grin has turned him wholly into a predator. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he says, voice pitched low. Faster than you can track, he dips down and hauls you up over his shoulder with ease, that abysmal eagle pauldron digging into your side as he carries you back into the clearing. You ball up your fists and pound on his back with every ounce of strength you have in you, twisting against his grip on your legs, but nothing fazes him. “Scream all you want, sweetheart,” he laughs, giving your ass an indulgent smack. “No one to hear it but me.” Homelander hurls you forward, and though you hit the ground much more gently than you braced for, the motion is no less disorienting. Sprawled on your back, you move to roll over, but a sudden weight on your thigh stops you. You look down and see his muddy red boot pressed firmly there, pinning you. Above, you hear the familiar sound of him unzipping his pants. Once his cock is free, Homelander grips it with a heated sigh, staring down at you through heavily lidded eyes. His lips are parted, and you can see the sharp edges of his canines glinting in the light of the moon. “Look at you, such a fucking mess,” he says, pumping his cock in slow, even slides of his hand. He’s already fully hard, the engorged head of his cock leaking drops of precome with every stroke. You can feel how bad he wants you in the way he watches you, the way his breath hitches. He looks like a wild animal drooling over a fresh cut of meat.

You writhe beneath him, but the weight of his boot alone is more than enough to keep you in place. “Please,” you whine, fighting to keep the desire out of your voice. “Please don’t, please, let me go, I won’t tell anyone–” “Ssshhhhh, shhh,” Homelander hushes, lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “I know you won’t.” Reaching out, Homelander bends at the waist and lifts his boot off of you just before he catches a handful of your hair, maneuvering you up onto your knees. The way he handles you is exceedingly gentle. He has no need for rough or forceful movements when his strength can bend steel. You have no choice but to move with him. “I’m gonna give you one chance to redeem yourself, alright?” Holding you steady, Homelander guides you to his cock, arching your head back with his grip in your hair. “Open up, pretty girl,” he croons, the only warning he gives before shoving his cock between your lips, smearing precome along your tongue, all the way to the back of your throat. The salt-sex taste of him is immediately intoxicating, and though you gag at the sudden intrusion, you suck him down without meaning to, reflexively swallowing. “Ffffuck, ah, hah, that’s it. Mmm, such a natural little cockslut. Taste good, sweetheart?” He asks, positively destroying you. He’s never called you anything like that before, but the ease with which he says it now makes it sound like the hundredth time. You want to hear it again. You make a sound that’s close to a moan, pushing your hands against his thighs, digging your nails into the padding of his suit. Letting go of his cock, he cups the side of your face, and picks up a steady rhythm with his hips, fucking your mouth shallowly.

With his thumb, Homelander caresses your lips, following the line of them where they stretch wide around his dick. He’s entranced by you, watching with endless intensity. Your jaw is slack, drool coating his cock as he fucks your mouth. “Ohhh, fuck. Fuck, look at you. Wanted it all along, didn’t you? I can smell your pussy, baby. You’re so fucking wet for me.” He fucks deeper, and you stifle the gag this time. Your eyes well with tears that collect on your lashes, weighing them down against your cheeks. The weight of his cock on your tongue feels so good, you lose yourself briefly, forgetting that you’re supposed to be putting up a fight. This time, you let yourself gag when he pushes in deep, and you try to pull off of him, fighting back against the hand he’d flattened at the back of your skull. “No, no, sshh, not yet. Almost there,” he says, tightening his grip in your hair, his voice fraying as he begins to come apart. He starts thrusting faster, adjusting his hands to hold either side of your head, using you so thoroughly that you feel like a fucking toy in his hands. Your breaths become shallower, short little gasps between the frenzied snaps of his hips. “Aaalmost there. That’s it, take it, taking it so fuckin’ good. Knew you could, baby.” Between the praise and lack of air, you’re starting to feel lightheaded. You’re not fighting against him anymore, but instead gripping his thighs for dear life, eyes rolling back into your skull. You feel like you’re floating in and out of your physical body, barely tethered to reality.

Homelander comes with a choked-off noise, shoving you all the way down onto his cock. You don’t even taste the come, you just feel the heavy pulses of his cock against your tongue, the heat of it sliding down your throat, warming you from the inside out. Just when you’re starting to feel like you might pass out, Homelander pulls out of your mouth, holding you as you cough wetly. You gulp down breath after breath, gradually coming down from your delirium. Homelander strokes your hair through it, breathing heavily through his own aftershocks. “Now there’s a redemption arc,” he says through a breathy little chuckle. He lets go of your hair so that he can tuck himself loosely back into his pants. Before you can get any ideas, Homelander knocks you backwards, visibly pleased by the easy way you sprawl out on your back, still dazed. Crouching down, he gets a good grip on the hips of your pants, and with a swift outward pull on either side, rips them clean apart, along with your underwear, leaving just the scraps of them hanging off your thighs, fully exposing your pelvis. Inhaling deeply, Homelander’s smile is downright predatory. “My turn,” he says, hooking your legs up over his shoulders, leaving just your upper back touching the ground below. He takes hold of your hips, and lifts you up to his mouth. Closing his eyes, he moans like a man mad with hunger as he drags his tongue through the slick mess of your cunt, closing his lips around your clit.

You arch your back with a cry, pushing into the wet heat of his mouth. He’s ruthless in the way he feasts on you, plunging his tongue into you and lapping up every drop he can coax out. When he’s gotten all he can, he goes back up to your clit and sucks, swirling his tongue over it, reducing you to a whimpering mess. He laps at your clit until there’s more sweet slick for him to drink up from your pussy, fucking you with his tongue, demanding more. Homelander gets his wish when you come, an explosion of pleasure that radiates through your entire body. Your thighs lock up on either side of his head, squeezing him tight, but all he cares about is the rush of your release that spills down his chin, wetting him so thoroughly the excess drips onto the ground below. He swallows every drop that he can. He groans with it, licking eagerly between the quivering lips of your cunt. Your orgasms have always driven him insane, the flood of endorphins making you taste fucking exquisite. Suddenly the ground falls out beneath you as Homelander stands up, leaving you hanging in his grasp as he devours you, your moans of pleasure rapidly dissolving into broken sobs, overwhelmed with sensation. “S-stop,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his wrists. “Too much, please, it’s too much.”

Homelander’s only response is a rough little shake of his head, nuzzling into your pussy, lapping up the aftermath of your orgasm and rapidly hurdling you hot and heavy towards another one, your hips convulsing against him entirely of their own accord. “Please, oh god, please stop!” You cry, voice raw. You hang helplessly in his grip, squirming with nowhere to go. He’s got you dangling precariously on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain, the sensations so intense that they almost burn. “S-stop! It’s too much! Please!” You have a safe word, you and he both know you could save yourself if you wanted to, but the reality is that you don’t. It feels good to beg for what you know he will not give you. You’re starting to feel dizzy, hanging upside down, gasping for breath as he continues to gorge himself on you. He drags his tongue up and down, drawing deft figure eights before sucking your clit, pressing his tongue firmly to it. You come again, and this time the experience is so overwhelming, you scream.

Falling limp, all you can muster are weak, oversensitized noises. Your body spasms involuntarily while Homelander licks you through the aftermath of your orgasm, milking every last drop of it. He finishes with a refreshed, wet exhale, audibly licking his lips of the mess while you dangle in his grasp. Gingerly, he lowers you back down onto the grassy forest floor, slipping out from between your legs to loom over you. Your brain is so addled, it takes you ages to realize that he’s kissing you, licking your own flavor into your mouth. You whimper when you feel his ungloved fingers brush your overstimulated cunt, the contact making you jolt. He clicks his tongue softly. “Look what you did,” he murmurs between kisses, plunging his fingers into you, despite your weak protest. You’re so wet, the slide of them is a frictionless ache. You whine into the press of his lips. “You went and got me hard again,” he sighs, as if you’ve inconvenienced him. “Now I have to fuck your pretty pussy.”

Homelander’s fingers pump in and out of you, the sound of it obscene and wet. Your breath hitches, and you try to protest, but his gloved hand falls over your lips, silencing you.

“Shhh, shh. Save it, sweetheart. Save it for my cock.” His fingers sink in deep, and your lashes flutter, eyes nearly rolling back into your skull. Already, you’re aching to feel him deeper. All you can do is whimper into the warm leather of his glove, squirming under the weight of his hold while his fingers work you open. While it’s a reprieve for your thoroughly used clit, the expert way he crooks his fingers inside you already has you fighting the climb of another orgasm. So much so that when he slips his fingers out, you whine, the sound of it bordering on a sob. Nothing happens for the next couple of seconds. Uncertain, you open your eyes, and find Homelander staring down at you. There is a slight tenseness to his expression, an expectation you can see in his gaze as you meet it. His hand is still over your mouth, but his other hand has settled on your thigh, thumb stroking your bare skin in minute movements. You can see the question written in his eyes clear as day; You okay?

The way he looks at you settles something warm deep in your core, chasing the night chill and leaving only the heat between your bodies. You break character for just a second, and give him a slight nod. In an instant, Homelander flips like a switch back into a stranger, the change subtle and yet glaringly obvious to you. You gasp when he pulls his hand from your mouth to flip you over, the smell of fresh grass pungent as he pushes your head down, lifting your ass up into the air. “That’s better,” he purrs, effortlessly slipping back into character. The cold, dangerous edge to his tone makes your stomach clench in a giddy blend of anxiety and excitement. With one hand braced on the back of your head, Homelander grips his cock in the other, and guides it to the soaked, velvety lips of your pussy. He drags the head of his cock up and down, smearing it through the wet mix of his saliva and your own slick. You jerk involuntarily when he rubs it against your sensitive clit, whimpering.

You feel overworked, but Homelander has made it clear he’s only just getting started. Slowly but surely, he opens you up on the thick head of his cock, moaning a low cuss under his breath. His powers protect him from pain, but not pleasure, and you’re not the only one affected by the aftermath of your release. Regardless, he moves his bare hand to your hip, and holds you steady as he sinks the rest of the way into you in one slow, agonizingly good slide, finally reaching that aching itch deep inside you. “Nnnngh, please,” you moan, screwing your eyes tightly shut. “Please what?” Homelander prompts, giving a deep little thrust that startles another pitchy sound out of you. “Go on, beg for it. I want to hear you beg for my cock like a good little slut,” he says, the low snarl of his voice–his words–paired with the heat and weight of him inside you making you delirious. He moves his hand from your hip to your clit, the wet slide of his fingers making you cry out, writhing against him. He rocks you back on his cock, fucking right into your cervix. “No sense denying it now. So goddamn wet for me. You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked like a cheap whore. Beg. Beg me to fuck you stupid.”

Whatever few strands you had left tethering you snap. The degradation, the truth in his words, the transcendent agony of pleasure taken too far all tip you over the edge of sanity and reason. Shame and arousal burn you in equal measure. “Please fuck me stupid,” you obediently beg, tears gathering in your eyes not from pain, but sheer overwhelm. You barely get the words out. Homelander starts to fuck you in earnest, groaning at your plea, at the complete crumble of your resolve. “Use me.” The noise Homelander makes at that is animalistic, caught somewhere between a groan and a growl. He shifts his hand from your head to your shoulder and grips tight, gloved fingers biting into the meat of you as he yanks you back onto his cock, picking up a relentless rhythm that punches the air right out of your lungs with every snap of his hips. All the while, his fingers grind against your clit with every thrust, surging you up towards the release previously abandoned.

“Fuck,” Homelander rasps, practically trembling with restraint. Despite the brutal way he’s fucking you, you know it’s nothing compared to what he could do. You can feel pressure building rapidly between your thighs, each thrust like the strike of a match inside you, igniting more and more heat. You can’t move, pinned between his hand on your shoulder and the crack of his hips against your ass. All you can do is endure him as your orgasm builds, whatever scarce breaths you can manage to inhale leave you as sharp little whimpers. “Don’t fight it. Feels good, I know it does. You’re taking me so good. Fucking made for me. C’mon, do it. Let me feel you come on my cock.” Your orgasm hits like an earthquake, a sudden eruption that renders you silent, your lips falling open on a noiseless scream. Your body locks up like a vice as wave after wave of mind blowing pleasure rolls through you. You hear Homelander give a choked off noise as he fucks you through it, your cunt seizing around him so tightly it catches him off guard. He doesn’t stop, instead moving faster, reducing you to a keening mess, limp in the grass. He uses you until on a final thrust, you feel him still, followed by a rush of heat so intense it nearly feels a burn inside you. Your whole body shudders, and you exhale a broken little noise, dizzy from the magnitude of it all.

Everything around you feels bleary, your vision fading in and out. For a moment, you feel as though you might float away from your body entirely, your consciousness barely holding on, but the feeling of Homelander pressed against your back, sinking down against you, grounds you. You whisper the safeword you’ve been diligently holding onto, and just like that, the game is over. Homelander pushes a hand through your hair, kissing a trail from your neck to your ear, gently adjusting your head on the ground. He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, bent over you, the wet weight of his cock still buried deep and warm inside you. He’s panting softly in your ear between kisses, the breaths catching every so often, still reeling from his own release.

Tenderly, he lifts off of you, and withdraws from inside you, hissing a soft breath as he does. The mess he left inside you trails hot, wet streaks down your thighs. You wince at the loss of him, nearly collapse without his hands on you, but he holds you steady with a hand on your hip while he adjusts himself.

You’re practically dead weight as he rolls you over, hovering over you with a hand in the grass, next to your head. You smile up at him, lazy and still dazed. He returns it, the corners of his eyes crinkling generously as he strokes your cheek with his bare knuckles, analyzing your expression. “Was I good?” He asks, the tone of his voice leagues and miles away from what it had been. He sounds tentative now, curious, a little hopeful. “Good?” You echo, borderline offended he would use such a meager word to explain the most intense sexual experience of your life. “That was… you were… amazing,” you tell him breathlessly, mustering the strength to push a hand into his mussed hair, your lids feeling heavy as you blink. “I can’t feel my legs, and I think you bruised my cervix,” you admit, to which he looks sheepish, but you continue, “And I’ve never felt more incredible in my life.”

Homelander visibly preens at that, his eyes narrowing, lips curving into a small smile. He leans in to nuzzle at your neck, inhaling deeply. You offer a few more strokes through his hair, but the muscles in your arm protest enough that you drape it over his neck instead, sighing. He takes that as his cue to scoop you up into his arms, your limbs dangling like cooked noodles. He floats to his feet, settling back down on the ground with you nestled snug against his chest. “C’mon,” he says quietly, kissing your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” ~~~~~~ Back at the cabin, Homelander is quick to start a hot bath running. The only garment of yours to survive was your bra, but even then, you and it are thoroughly grass strained. Homelander helps you sink into the oversized jacuzzi bath, chuckling at the exaggerated moan you give as the heat washes over you. It feels like heaven on your aching legs. The water sloshes to and fro as Homelander joins you, sliding up to you right away. Baths have always been both of your preferred methods of aftercare, where you can recover from his strength and he can luxuriate in this intimate form of pampering. Automatically, Homelander pulls you in to straddle his lap, the water making you both feel weightless. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you go about wetting his hair, massaging his scalp. He moans when you begin to work in the shampoo next, dragging your nails all the way down to the back of his neck. He’s much leaner without the suit. You sweep your hands down his shoulders, following the trail of wiry muscle to his back. His body relaxes gradually beneath your touch, breathy little sighs escaping him. He makes you feel like you’re playing an instrument, and you know precisely where to touch to draw out the right note. Neither of you speak much during the bath. Your limbs are heavy, muscles tired, and the narrow space between your bodies feels too quiet and intimate for words.

You take your time conditioning his hair, and he wrings soft moans from you when he massages wash into your shoulders, mindful of how they ache. He’s deft with his hands, impeccably aware of his strength. It thrills you a little every time you remember how different he was in the woods, how wild and brutal he had felt. Once you’re both clean and satisfied, the bed calls your name as hypnotically as any siren. You’re the first to slip under the covers, immediately relieved to be off of your feet, your legs still shaky. Homelander follows shortly after. He’s always been clingy, but tonight especially, he’s practically glued to you. When he slides into bed, he doesn’t cuddle in next to you, but instead lays himself over you, nestling between your legs so that he can rest his head on your chest. You smile down at him. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” he rumbles, moving his hand to rest near his face, just over the beat of your heart.

Silence hangs heavily in the air. Sensing there’s more to it, you press, “Do you want to talk about tonight?”

Homelander is quiet for a moment longer. “You were scared.”

“Being chased was scary, yes,” you admit, combing your fingers through his hair. “That was the intention, though.”

“Were you scared of me?”

You pause. There’s something vulnerable in his voice—anxiety, perhaps—that he’s halfheartedly trying to mask, but you see through it. You give yourself time, wanting to answer the question with the thought it deserves, but Homelander doesn’t take the silence well. He lifts his head to scrutinize your expression, brows pinched. “You were scared of me.”

“You scared me, but I wasn’t afraid of you,” you correct him, settling your hand over top of his. “I liked it. In the same way I like movies that make me scream, or roller coasters. You scared me, and I loved it,” you say, bringing up both hands to cup his face, emphasizing your words by pulling him into a kiss. He moves easily, pushing into the kiss, needy for the assurance you offer. Stroking his cheeks with your thumbs, you ask him, “Did you like it?”

Homelander licks his lips, sliding his arm under you as he settles back in against your chest. “Yeah. It was… fun. Raw. I didn’t know you could act like that. Might have to get you a role in Vought’s next production,” he says, giving your collarbone a playful little nuzzle. “No thanks, I’d rather be waterboarded,” you reply with a laugh, earning a low chuckle from him. You stroke him from the crown of his head all the way down to the base of his neck, and then back up. “I’m glad you had fun. I know that I was asking a lot of you with it.” He’s quiet for a moment, head resting heavy on your chest. He rubs his cheek against your skin. “I really liked it. But if it goes too far, and you see something in me that you don’t like, and I see you scared of me, even when we’re not playing, it…” the sentence trails off. You feel his grip around you tighten reflexively, and you can only imagine what awful scenario he’s playing in his mind. “John,” you call gently, though your tone is firm, catching his attention immediately. He tips his head back to look up at you. “I promise you, there is nothing you would do to me that could change the way I feel about you. I love you. I worship you, John. That’s what love means to me. Reverence. You didn’t want to hurt me tonight, did you?”

“No,” he answers quickly, enraptured by you, by your words. “But I did.” “Only as much as I asked you to,” you soothe, stroking along the side of his face. “You would have stopped if I said the word, right?” Homelander nods, closing his eyes as he leans into your touch, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You checked in on me, too. If anything, all tonight did was show me how much I don’t need to be afraid of you.”

Looking at you, there is a magnitude of emotion in Homelander’s eyes that is difficult to put into words. You realize immediately just how badly he needed to hear every word you’ve said. He has always thrived on your words, on your loving deeds, but tonight they scrape him particularly raw. There are times when you think the depths of his need for you scares even him. Homelander kisses a path from your collarbone to the space between your breasts, slow, deeply affectionate. Where you most easily show your worship in words, he shows his in touch. He strokes a hand down your side, to your outer thigh, squeezing it against him, like he simply cannot be close enough. “Come here,” you murmur, nudging him with your leg. “Let me warm you.” Homelander glances up at that, his lips twitching in a small, pleased smile. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” you confirm, encouraging him with another little nudge. Of all the tricks you’ve introduced him to, this has been his favorite by far. Licking his lips eagerly, Homelander shifts, lifting himself to grab the lube from the bedside table, dispensing enough to slick his cock up. He uses what remains on his fingers in you, sliding his slick fingers into you with ease, earning a sharp little inhale from you before you relax into it. Once you’re properly wetted, he carefully slides his cock into you, less than half hard, but that isn’t the intent. Though you’re still tender, once he settles against you, the fervid weight of him inside feels divine. Having him inside always feels as though you are kindling a live flame within you.

“Mm, that’s it. Feel good?” You ask, kissing his forehead. Homelander nods, slotted against you as perfectly as a matching jigsaw piece. He turns his head to kiss your breast, transitioning quickly from that to closing his mouth over your nipple, sucking gently. You flex your grip in his hair, sighing in pleasure. “I still need to rest, you know. We can’t all have super stamina,” you remind him with an amused little smile.

“So rest,” he says dismissively, gaze flickering up to meet yours. He kisses your breast reverently before placing his head back down, staring up at you with such utter contentment, you feel the  warmth of it to your core. “I can be patient.” In other words, he’ll wait as long as he can before the temptation grows too great. The thought of waking to him taking advantage of you like that broils a little fire of your own in your gut, and you laugh softly, nodding. “Okay. Wake me in a few hours. Be creative,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. Homelander’s lips curl deviously. “I love you.” “I love you, too.” Eventually, your exhaustion wins over the giddiness of what’s to come. Homelander is a comforting weight against you, the heat of him chasing any and all chill from you, and you drift into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever known.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Merry Christmas!!!!

so since it’s Christmas for me rn I was wondering if we could get some cute scenario with Tim drake, like him and his bf ending up under a mistletoe, or a snowball fight

I’m a sucker for fluff and just want some cute Christmas time!!!

Tim Drake x Hero male reader

Headcanons

I had iceman from the x-men on my mind as I wrote this. How was everyones holidays? Did yall get what you wanted? I got a weighted blanket, some books and kitchen stuff. I also got blasphemous 2, I’m not that good at it.

Having to patrol Christmas night was always a bummer, but crime never sleeps. In reality, crime got worse around these times of the year since people got so easily distracted and so many things were put inside stores.

Luckily for Tim, you were invited to the manor for the holidays this year since you guys have been dating for a while. Last year Tim celebrated with your family, so now you were joining his.

This also meant you joined up for patrol, meaning the bats had a whole new surprise in their arsenal, seeing as you could control ice, cold, water, so on and so forth.

It made dealing with criminals easy, since none of the rogues were out and about. Two-face, killer croc and Firefry apparently weren’t in Arkham, but they all seemed to be more focused on the actual holidays than crime. This just left you guys with some everyday criminals.

For you and Tim, this patrol felt more like a date than anything else. Apparently, Red Robin dating one of the known heroes from another city was enough to make the people you passed feel giddy.

You had been staying with the Waynes for the whole week leading up to the holidays, so you had patrolled for just as long. This also gave the Gotham citizens enough time to set up mistletoes and little goody bags wherever you guys were patrolling.

How the hell did the locals even get a mistletoe all the way up on a specific gargoyle you two liked to sit under as you enjoyed your hot chocolate? Gotham locals scared you sometimes with how determined they were, but it did make Tim blush, if only a little.

Later on, hed blame it on how cold it was, and the fact that you were pretty much made of ice when using your powers. It didn’t stop you from giving him a small peck though, even though it leaves his lips completely pink, and his face flushed from the cold.

You end up getting scolded by some of the Gotham locals. Theres no real heat behind it. It’s more the fact that they didn’t know you were coming, so none of them prepared gifts for you.

The bats never asked for gifts, but you learn they always get some from the locals, even if they try to turn them away. You think its pretty damn neat, and you damn near cry when an older lady gifts you a scarf she stayed up all night to make. It’s even got your blues and Tims reds, since you guys are very obvious.

When crimes are as low as it can get in Gotham, you spend time making sculptures around town with your powers. Most of them are of the bats, and yeah, there’s about twice as many of Tim as everyone else. You never go into enough detail for their identities to be obvious, but it’s just your way of bonding with the city.

With Gotham having the weather it does, the snow also tends to be pretty damn sucky. Luckily for them, your powers are very useful in turning it into nice white snow, perfect for snowmen and snowballs.

Some people are weary of you because of Freeze, but seeing you hang around the bats gets people outdoors. You being as friendly as you are, supplying people with snowballs into their hands, also helps.

None of the bats are really the type to just come down and play in the snow like you, throwing snowballs after some of them does help. Soon Nightwing, Spoiler and Signal are mixed into the snow fight.

The others are too serious or weary to just let loose. You know the other bats are as vigilant as the ones watching from the roofs, so are you, but you do wish your boyfriend would join.

You get him back later by shoving snow down the back of his suit when he isn’t paying attention to you. Tim can’t get you back since you’re pretty much made of ice, but he gets you back one way of another.

The holidays with the Bats is a whole experience, since they come from so many cultures. Theres so many different traditions and food, and its all worked into the celebration somehow.

Even a couple of your own traditions are worked into the celebration, if there’s anything specific your family does during the holidays, that Tim picked up last year.

You guys all get together to watch a movie together as well, even if some of the bats argue and throw some punches. The normal animosity between some of them is put away for the day, if there is any. But with a family that size you wouldn’t be shocked if someone was arguing.

You and Tim cuddle during the movie, of course, and you’re also wearing matching Christmas sweaters. They’re Green Lantern themed, and you note that none of the family members are wearing Batman shirts. Later you learn that this is one of their traditions, since Bruce one year got broody about it. Now he joins the tradition by wearing a superman sweater.

Theres mistletoes all over the manor, mainly because of you and Tim, and whoever else is brought to the manor as a romantic partner if there are any.

Tim is not the most comfortable with kissing in front of his whole family, so instead it just becomes pecks on the cheek. You end up freezing Jason’s tea right in his mug after he makes enough jokes about it.

In the morning you and Tim share gifts in his room, just the ones meant for you two, before you guys go down to join the others, in matching pajamas, obviously.

Before you guys leave Tims room he gives you a kiss that’s almost enough to make you melt, as payback for the snow in his suit. You don’t mind too much, even if some of his family joke about your red face and how smug Tim looks.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 100 (Conrad Puts a Ring on It!)

A fresh fluttering of snowflakes coated the stones beneath Heather's feet. Gord's paws left prints in the cold white powder as they climbed the small hill from Dachshund's Creek back to their home on Sable Square. She spotted the police detail who'd hovered in the neighbourhood since the body turned up at the docks, but she wouldn't let their presence dampen her spirit tonight.

The air was peaceful, with families gathered indoors to celebrate the night before Winterfest. Gord shook off crystals from his long fur, and Heather kicked the snow from her boots before heading back inside.

The house was peaceful, too, and she took off her outdoor gear to head back upstairs. She found Conrad perfecting the decorations on the tree. "Are they both asleep?"

"Lavender's out at least until she's hungry again, and Ash knows the sooner he goes to sleep the sooner he can open more presents." Conrad chuckled. "But I doubt he's actually sleeping."

"Thanks for getting them both down. I thought maybe we could watch Devin Villareal's new movie, Winterfest to the Rafters, on Simflix. At least until I fall asleep on the sofa... Why are you looking at me like that?"

"We can watch whatever you want," he said. " But I want to say something first."

He dropped to one knee, opening the ring box in his hand. "Oh my Watcher! Conrad!" Heather tried to keep her excited voice low, afraid to wake the kids.

"The night I asked you to marry me was a whirlwind. I meant everything I said, but I didn't plan it right, and we've been through enough together that I should have. We're probably not going to do everything traditionally, but my dad told me 'a ring says you're ready for forever.' And I should've done this the night I asked because I've been ready for forever with you from our first date in the city. I'm ready for forever with all of us."

Heather was practically speechless as she tried on the gorgeous rose gold diamond ring. "It's beautiful, Conrad. But you know I didn't need a ring for me to trust your commitment to us. No matter what we go through, you show us every day."

"Tell me we'll spend the rest of our lives living up to the promise of that ring, and that's all I'll ever need."

"I promise." She pulled him in for a kiss, the ring adding weight to her hand as she wrapped her arms around his back. The ring felt new and she'd have to get used to it, but the real weight of the ring wasn't in ounces and carats. Like Conrad said, it meant forever. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Can I come out now?" Ash's muffled voice behind his bedroom door interrupted their embrace, and he raced out to see the ring. "Do you like it, mommy? I said you would!"

Heather laughed. "You were right. I really love it!"

Ash turned to Conrad with an excited grin, reaching up his arms for a hug. "I told you she'd love it!"

"You're the smartest kid I know, buddy. I never doubted you."

"Can I stay up and watch a Winterfest movie with you tonight?"

Heather shook her head. "What happened to going to sleep so you can wake up to open presents sooner? You don't want to be tired tomorrow. After we have breakfast we're going to Henford, and I have it on good authority Father Clement has your grandparents' house on his route, too."

"But I'm too excited to sleep!"

Behind the door to Lavender's room, they heard her stirring. She never woke in a bad mood, but she babbled for help from her crib. Heather turned to Conrad with a smile. "She's hungry, I'll feed her."

"And I'll help Ash count z's 'til he's asleep," said Conrad, shuffling him back to bed while Heather entered her daughter's room. Lavender nursed quietly, staring at the bright lights on the tree with keen interest. The quiet moment gave Heather time to stare at her ring as she stroked her daughter's hair.

It took effort to get Lavender back to sleep. She could probably sense the excitement, and as a wiggly infant she always wanted to be where the action was.

But Lavender was so good. Sweet and happy. Maybe that's just how Conrad made babies. They'd have to have another for Heather to know for sure... She pulled herself back from her meandering thoughts. She worked too much, and he was climbing the ranks at the station. Ash and Lavender needed all their free time.

And then, of course, there was Ximena, wherever she was tonight.

She entered Ash's room to find him passed out above the covers. Conrad sat up next to him, with Queen Cupcake sleeping soundly at his feet. He stifled a yawn, smiling when she came in.

"He was reading The Giving Tree to me this time, but he didn't even make it to the part where the boy grows up and builds the house."

Heather smiled. "We've all had a big day," she said, tucking her son under the covers. "Are you still up for a movie?"

"Of course. Winterfest to the Rafters it is."

They got up to head downstairs to the family room, but Ash spoke up from his bed before they closed the door behind them.

"Good night mommy. Good night Conrad. Happy Winterfest Eve!"

Heather would never admit it to her son for fear of setting the wrong example, but by some stroke of wonderful fate, her decision to hack Landgraab Systems had brought Conrad into their lives.

It felt like the best decision she'd ever made. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

Thank you @changingplumbob for brainstorming Devin's new Winterfest movie for this lil' cross/mention when I sprang the idea on you literally yesterday! 🙏

WCIF Poses and Rings? From Proposing Poses by Atashi77. The Soloriya ring box accessory is also available for download from the linked Patreon page for the creator, in case you have some sims getting engaged soon!

BUT I downloaded a different cc ring box to get Heather's actual engagement ring, which she never takes off. This functional wedding ring by Maru is really nice, and I know there are feelings about CurseForge but this is where I found it! It's so persistent (as advertised!) Heather even wears it over gloves, which I hate, but not enough to change it up or remove her gloves in freezing Brindleton Bay. Winter will end eventually!

I also used a pose to get Ash 'asleep' on the same bed with Conrad relaxing (and Queen Cupcake just showed up at Conrad's feet like she knew I wanted the most perfectly blissful action shot of all time and promptly fell asleep against his warm feet. Thank you Queen!!!). The pose itself is from Akiyumi's Child with a Fever poses, which are excellent. Ash is fine of course. He just looks like he fell asleep above the covers, which is all I wanted!

[yok00k]

seasons: pink

seasons_m.list

pairing: p.sunghoon x acubi!oc

genre: fluff, drabble

summary: shopping w/ sunghoon

warning: too sweet!

word count: 919

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“Earth to sunghoon??” you say, waving your hand in front of your boyfriend’s face, who’s been zooming out for a while. he’s all dressed up and ready to go since ages ago. meanwhile, you take at least two hours to get ready and have more than five steps of skincare routine plus some makeup. he did everything that he could possibly do to not get bored while waiting for you.

walk back and forth from the living room to your bedroom more than 50 times? check. water the plant sitting on the most random spots of your apartment? check. pet and play with coco, your tiny shih tzu dog? check. yet he’s still ended up sitting up at the edge of your bed, staring at the air.

you further try to get his attention by planting a few kisses on his left cheek, which leaves an easily noticeable lip tint stain on his smooth skin. resulting in your sudden action, he moves from his frozen state.

sunghoon blinks twice, bringing himself out from detaching himself to reality. “you ready?” he asks, clearing his voice while examining your cute all-white outfit, which matches his all-black casual attire. he also notices the makeup you put on today, a simple ‘igari’ style makeup that highlights lots of rose pink blush on your soft cheeks.

cute, totally his type

“yes! thanks for waiting for me” you respond with full energy. of course he’ll wait for you. no matter how long he has to wait for. it’s not like he could just leave you and execute today's plan all by himself. he wouldn’t leave you alone. even if he has an option to. in addition to that, he loves spending a solid quality time with you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

since warm weather is slowly approaching , the today’s plan is to shop around for summer clothes. you two have been planning on going to one of the few nicest outdoor outlets around. the only downside is it’s a couple of hours drive. but they have everything you could possibly look for: cute stores, high quality clothing stores, nice bakeries and bubble tea shops, and many more. for that reason, you are willing to be in the car for two hours. this is your idea after all.

the first thing you knock out of your to-do list as you arrive you destination is to grab a refreshing bubble tea. after that, you and sunghoon began roaming around. your wrist acts to its second nature as it automatically entangled with his. sunghoon isn’t really a fan of pda, but he wouldn’t mind having his hand intertwined with yours. he actually enjoys it a lot, but he would never ever admit it or say it out loud.

today is such a bright day.

in the midst of walking in the open air mall, sunghoon confusedly turns his head when you abruptly come to a halt, followed by hearing a loud gasp from you. he’s about to ask what’s wrong but as soon as he looks at what you’re staring at, he understands right away. you lead the way quickly towards the front of the store.

“i’ll just see what they have inside real quick, I won’t take that long” you reassure him, grabbing a mini basket, just in case you end up buying something tiny. he just follows and stays right behind you like a lost puppy.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

there’s no such thing as “real quick” especially when shopping with you. and sunghoon knows that for a fact. he’s even surprised that it only took you 40 minutes to roam around that small store given the fact that you love examining every cute thing the store sells. you would ask for his opinion here and there, only for you to return the items back because you don’t really need those things. still, you’re pleased by how pretty they look. after looking at every product, you ended up only buying two things: a couple of decent size miffy night lamps. one for you and one for him.

“look, I got one for you!” you mutter, swinging the paper bag in front of him.

“for me?” he asks dumbfoundedly, he didn’t even realized that you bought two of the same item. you reply with a nod. “yup, they’re the same thing so we can match” you explain, wrapping your hands to his arm as you proceed to your next stop. before he could even react, he’s being dragged by you elsewhere.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“this one, this one, this one..” you mumble to yourself, fully concentrating on picking oversized t-shirt that would look good on sunghoon. so far you have three different color of shirts in your hand. a sky blue, white, and light pink. he typically dislikes pink but it would look great on him.

“try these on, I will look for more” you softly instruct him as you handle the clothes.

“pink?” he utterly baffles, not liking the idea of trying on the particular shirt.

“trust me, it’ll look good on you”

sunghoon is about to disagree, but he chooses not to. he’s in love you to the point where he’s going to do whatever you ask him to do, even if it’s against his liking as such color of a damn shirt. he won’t listen to anyone. but he’s willing to listen to you.

he ended up trying it. it wasn’t as bad he thought it would be. maybe wearing pink isn’t that bad, solely because the girl he loves says so.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

a/n: i’m making a series of this couple<33

[d6volution]

Reader who is just as much of a jackass as Jax is. Both of you are competing for the “best prank” on the rest of the circus members. However, one day Jax decides to ask Caine for a “massager” claiming you complained about muscle aches. Jax gives it as a gift, the reader not knowing the outfit contains the toy. He wants you to wear on the next adventure and hopes to push your buttons. Whether the reader gets revenge is up to you.

i think i get it! hopefully this is okay 🫶🏽

tags: make shift vibrator, fingering, outdoors, cursing cause i didn't feel like censoring it.

more below the cut. | minors dni.

"You're kiddin' ... there's no way Zooble would sleep through that." Jax grinned, at you .. a hand on his hip as you both walked through the halls at a moderate pace.

"Mhm, wait til you see them." Was all you said, clearly confident of your own doings.

Like clockwork, Zooble appeared, "What are you two assholes staring at?" Zooble squinted.

Jax couldn't help it, a thunderous roar of laughter erupted from his mouth and held his stomach. Pointing at Zooble with the opposite hand.

"What the hell is so funny?" Zooble didn't notice , they were so used to switching and swapping parts on their body that they failed to notice the comically bouncing googly eye on their face, replacing their usual left eye.

"N—Nothing, Zoobs. You look great.." You giggled and yanked Jax away before he gave away the joke before it had its time to play out.

You guys rounded the corner, "That puts me ahead three points, bunny boy." You said smugly.

"What? No way." He rolled his eyes, and the laughing fit quickly wore off.

"What do you mean, no way? Those were the rules !" You huffed, and relished in your frustration.

"The rules, of my game, dollface."

"Should've known you'd cheat.."

"Look, how about this, next adventure we go on. Double the points. Whoever comes out on top wins. Simple." He shrugs his shoulders.

"Hmp. Fine, you've got a deal." You were planning to get the one up on him. Even if it meant humiliating the other members in the process. There was nothing else to do in this digital world, so why not have some fun at the expense of others?

You two parted ways for the night, and unbeknownst to you Jax had a devious plan already cooked up.

"Hey, Caine."

The ringmaster was cleaning up the mess from the last adventure, "Oh , hello there Jax! What can I do for you?" His voice boomed like usual.

"You know, y/n said they've been havin' some trouble with... uh, back aches. real bad back aches. Needs, I dunno.. a massager or something. Got anything like that?" He gestured.

"Hmm.. I suppose I can cook something up!" He pretened to dig in his pocket, his arm disappearing all the way down to the forearm until he pulled out a make shift massager that had multiple vibrating parts.

Jax's grins grew wide, it was almost creepy how narrow his eyes got. "Thanks , Caine. You're the best." He caught the massager such Caine tossed to him. Jax waved and quickly went to his room. He spent the entire night carefully crafting an outfit for you, though right in the crotch the vibrator was hidden inside the cloth. The things you could make happen here we almost comical. But, Jax took whatever advantage he could get. No matter how ridiculous.

Now lastly. The remote. He'd be able to control whenever the "massager" turned on and off , plus fluctuate its intensity.

The next morning came in a flash, maybe because he was up throughout the night.. no matter. It's not like they get tired anyways.

He showed up at your door, outfit in hand. He knocked until you opened it.

"Jeez, Jax first thing in the morning and— ..... whats that..?" You pointed at the clothes folded in his hands, it was a one piece outfit but it cut off to make shorts at the bottom.

"For you, dummy." He teased and shoved it into your arms.

"You must be out of your mind if you think I'm wearing this Jax." You scoffed and held it up in front of you. It wasn't too provocative..  you just didnt trust him.

"C'mon doll, don't be a loser. Just wear it,— wear it and successfully pull one prank on a member and the winning title is all yours." He spiced up the deal, grinning at you.

You knew there had to be a catch, but if he thought you weren't going to take advantage of this he'd be wrong. "Fine. I'll win, and when I do. You have to anything I say for the entire day."

"Deal." He responded a little too quickly and you shut the door in his face. His smile remained and he hummed to himself as he went looking for the others while you changed.

It was odd how well this outfit fit you, snug but not too tight.. just when did he get your measurements..? Ugh, whatever. It was a little uncomfortable in certain areas , but what were you expecting? Jax to be some master tailor?

"I can't believe I'm doing this.." You muttered before exiting your room, meeting up with the rest of the lot just in time. Caine was explaining the ins and outs of todays adventure. Something about fishing at the digital lake. You weren't paying attention, trying to figure out a quick prank to pull on an unsuspecting member so you could get out of this outfit.

BUZZZZ.

You jumped and yelped, covering your mouth as you felt something vibrating against your clit. Your cheeks went red and you tried to keep still as a few eyes darted to you, but only for a moment. 'What the, fuck?' You thought, and immediately looked at Jax. Unfortunately he wasn't even looking at you.

"Alright, now go on my little superstars! Good luck!" Caine ended his speech and disappeared in puff of smoke.

You all exited the tent and headed towards the lake.. just then you fell another buzz and stumbled to a stop, Kinger and Gangle walked past you with concerning looks... followed by Jax. You walked with him , cheeks still red.

"Jax. I'm taking this stupid outfit off."

"Fine, you'll lose immediately though.. don't say I didn't warn ya." He said and seemed completely unbothered, clearly aware of how competitive you can be.

"Th.. That's not fair and you know it." You growled under your breath.

"Lighten up doll, maybe this is just what you need. A little fun and pleasure." He shrugged before the buzzing started again, and you let a whine slip past your lips before biting down on your bottom lip.

"Whoops.. hand slipped."

"You're going down you, little pervert."

You felt like steam was going to erupt from your ears. You pushed past him, flustered and frustrated. He just chuckled as you stormed off. Clearly pleased with himself.

The buzzing stopped and you breathed , you had to come up with something.. maybe you'd hook Gangle's fishing line to one of her ribbons so when she tries to cast it, it'll go all wrong and make her unravel.

The plan was nearly perfect .. except everytime you tried to distract gangle Jax pressed that damn button and the vibrator buzzed against your thobbing clit.

Every time you tried to initiate your plans , it was always interrupted. The buzzing didn't even stay on long enough for you to reach your climax so you were constantly being edged.. you had to take a break, you could feel your lewd jucies running down your inner thighs..

"I'm going to kill him.." You said, but the words left your mouth pathetically. You leaned against a tree, far from the others.. maybe if you came then you could .. function at least.

"Oh, wondered where you ran off to. Havin' some trouble there doll?"

"N.. No, Jax you'd better not—"

BUZZZZZ.

You almost crumpled to your knees but Jax was right in front of you, holding you against the tree. "Poor thing, can't even stand. How ya gonna win like this, huh?"

Your eyes were glassy, legs shaking. "Y.. You asshole.." Your legs were trembling and you could feel Jax's hand sliding up your torso.

"How about this, give up and I'll let ya cum dollface. No strings attached." He stared at your helpless form. Eyes clearly foggy with lust.

"N.. No way, hhck..!" The buzzing got more intense and you finally collapsed to the floor.

".. O..Okay , please..! please let me cum, Jax.." You whined, your cunt puffy and throbbing with need.

"Heh, that's what I thought.. good game, y/n." He croutched down in front of you. His body pretty much blocking yours fron any eyes that could possibly end up seeing you two.. he pushed aside the shorts and your panties and plunged two fingers inside of you without a second thought.

You yelped and instinctively scooted back but the tree kept you in place.

"Shh.. someone might hear ya, babe. Just cum on my fingers real quick yeah?" He whispered into your ear and your cunt convulsed around his fingers at the thought. You grabbed his arm but he didn't stop, still hammering his fingers in your squelching cunt.

"Fuck... you're so wet." He muttered and stared at your cunt as it swallowed up his fingers.

"Jax!" You yelped and your body jolted as you came on his fingers, panting a little.

"Ya good , doll?" He asked, slowly removing his fingers from your dripping snatch.

You nodded and helped you adjust your clothes, before assisting you to your feet. "How about you go get changed.. I'll make up an excuse if the others say something." He said in a more gentle voice now, his eyes were still wild with lust but he figured now may not be the time.

"R..  Right .. thanks, Jax." You still felt numb down there, your legs still a bit shaky.

"Oh, you still lost by the way. Heh."

Of course you did.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter Five

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: Language.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.4k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

You find yourself in the cold, sterile room of the sleep clinic. The bed beneath you feels foreign, the sheets crisp and unfamiliar. Electrodes cling to your scalp, chest, and limbs, tethering you to the machines that will monitor your every twitch and breath.

"You ready?" the technician asks, her voice breaking through the clinical quiet. Her eyes are kind but professional, revealing none of the potential outcomes of this study.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the anxiety gnawing at you.

The lights dim, and you're left alone with the soft hum of machinery. You close your eyes, willing sleep to come quickly, but it evades you for a while. Eventually, exhaustion takes over and pulls you under.

You drift into a dreamscape that's unsettlingly familiar—Mervyn's garden. The flowers bloom in impossible colors, their petals shifting like liquid in a breeze that doesn't exist. Morpheus appears again, standing among the blossoms, his expression unreadable.

"Why here?" you ask, more to yourself than to him.

"Your mind seeks comfort," he replies. "And yet it brings you back to chaos."

The scene shifts suddenly. You find yourself back in the sleep clinic bed but not alone. Matthew perches on the headboard, his dark eyes watching over you.

"You think they got what they needed?" he asks casually.

"Doubt it," you mutter. "Feels like a whole lot of nothing."

Morning arrives too soon, dragging you from restless slumber into harsh reality. The technician re-enters the room with a clipboard in hand and a neutral expression.

"How'd I do?" You force a smile, hoping for some clarity.

"We'll discuss it with Dr. Andrews," she says. Her tone is too measured to offer any hints.

You're led to a small consultation room where Dr. Andrews awaits with your chart spread out before him.

"Your results are... inconclusive," he says after a moment's hesitation. "We didn't find anything definitive."

You let out a sigh of frustration. "So what now?"

"We'll need to run more tests," he continues. "Your symptoms are real; we just haven't pinpointed the cause yet."

You nod numbly as he explains next steps—more nights in strange beds with electrodes glued to your skin, more waiting for answers that might never come.

As you leave the clinic, Matthew swoops down from somewhere above and lands on your shoulder again. It still astounds you that he can travel between realms, but you are eternally grateful to have his company during your waking hours.

"Guess it's back to square one," he remarks.

"Yeah," you agree softly. "But at least it hasn't gotten worse… you wanna get food?"

"Fuck yeah,"

"How about that diner on Fifth?" you suggest. "They've got outdoor seating. I can pretend that you're a pet"

Matthew ruffles his feathers in approval. "Sounds good. You know I can't resist those fries."

You make your way through the crowded sidewalks, dodging commuters and street vendors until you reach the small, retro-style diner. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee hits you as you approach, and your stomach growls in anticipation.

You find a table outside, under the shade of a striped umbrella. A waitress with a bright smile brings menus and fills your cup with steaming coffee.

"I'll have the breakfast special," you say, glancing at Matthew. "And can we get an extra side of fries?"

The waitress nods and scribbles down your order before disappearing back inside.

"So," Matthew starts, pecking lightly at a napkin for amusement, "how do you feel about all this? The tests, I mean."

You lean back in your chair, taking a sip of coffee. "Frustrated, mostly. It’s like being stuck in a loop with no exit."

Matthew tilts his head, studying you. "But you're not giving up."

"Never," you reply firmly. "I need answers."

The waitress returns with your food—a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a generous serving of fries on the side. She places everything down with a practiced ease and leaves you to it.

You break off a piece of toast and hold it out for Matthew. He pecks at it gratefully before turning his attention to the fries.

"Here," you say, picking up a fry and holding it close to his beak.

He takes it delicately, munching away with visible delight. "Best part of any meal," he quips between bites.

You smile, feeling a small sense of normalcy amidst the chaos that has become your life. Sharing a meal with Matthew distracts you—no doctors, no tests, just the simple act of eating together. Even he is a bird.

"Want some bacon?" You hold up a piece for him.

"Nah," he replies. "Too greasy for my bird stomach, you would not believe how much I had to shit after snacking on measly strip…” You try not to think about Matthew having bird diarrhea while you chew your bacon eyes wandering over the bustling cityscape. People pass by in waves, unaware of your silent struggles. Matthew’s presence brings a small measure of comfort. The bird’s casual attitude toward your predicament eases the tension you carry like an invisible weight.

Matthew finishes another fry and cocks his head at you. "You think they'll find anything useful next time?"

You shrug, swallowing a bite of scrambled eggs. "I hope so. It’s hard not knowing what’s wrong. But at the same time, how many tests have I already been though? Pretty sure they're gonna start running out and just chalk it up to me being crazy."

"Well at least you’ve got me," he says with a wink—or as much of a wink as a bird can manage.

You chuckle, the sound surprising even to you. It feels good to laugh, even if just for a moment. "Yeah, I do. Thanks for sticking around…" Then you think about it. Why is Matthew hanging out with you while you are awake?

"Matthew?" You question, catching the raven mid gobble of another fry.

You look at Matthew as he swallows the fry, his beady eyes glinting with curiosity. “Why do you stick around when I’m awake?”

He pauses, feathers ruffling slightly. “Good question,” he says, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. “Maybe I just enjoy your company.”

“Come on,” you say, leaning forward. “There’s gotta be more to it than that.”

Matthew pecks at another fry, taking his time before responding. “Alright, alright. The boss told me to watch you, okay?"

The boss? Why would Morpheus care about your well being?

You stare at Matthew, his nonchalance doing little to mask the gravity of his revelation.

"The boss? Morpheus asked you to watch over me?"

Matthew's beady eyes meet yours, and he nods slowly. "Yeah, he did. Said you were important."

"Important? To who?" You lean in, your heart pounding in your chest. Did he still think you were a threat? "What does he mean?"

Matthew looks around, ensuring no one else is listening. Then he leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Alright, but you gotta promise not to freak out."

You nod, the curiosity gnawing at you. "I promise."

"Okay," he says, settling himself on the table. "So, I think Morpheus has a crush on you."

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "What? That's... that's insane."

Matthew shrugs, picking at another fry. "Is it? Think about it. Why else would he send me to keep an eye on you?"

You try to process this information, but it's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. "But he's... he's the Lord of Dreams, and Endless. He's older than the gods. Why would he care about me?"

"Hey," Matthew pecks at the table for emphasis, "he's more human than you think. Just because he's got all that power doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings."

"Matthew, he has the emotional intelligence of a rock."

Matthew cocks his head, a twinkle of amusement in his beady eyes. "Maybe. But even rocks get polished over time."

"Oh my god, this conversation is ridiculous," you sigh in exasperation, shaking your head.

Matthew chuckles, a surprisingly comforting sound. "Ridiculous or not, it's the truth. Why else would he send me to watch over you?"

"Because I am an interloper within his realm he can't control?" You offer shortly before chewing your lip. You take a deep breath, trying to make sense of everything. "So, what now? Do I just... pretend I don't know?"

Matthew shrugs, fluffing his feathers. "That's up to you. But you should know, he's not just watching over you for no reason. He genuinely cares."

You nod slowly, the gravity of the situation settling over you. "Alright. I'll think about it."

Matthew pecks at another fry, giving you a reassuring look. "Take your time. Just know that whatever you decide, I'm here. And so is he. I think."

He thinks. Hah!

" Great talk," You say, not knowing what else to say. "Thanks, Matthew."

"Anytime," he replies, his tone light and playful. "Now, how about we get back to those fries?"

You wander through Fiddler's Green, your eyes scanning the landscape for the perfect spot to set up your painting supplies. The rolling hills are lush with emerald grass, dotted with wildflowers that seem to glow in the afternoon sun. Trees sway gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets you can almost hear.

A narrow path winds through the meadow, leading you toward a small pond. The water reflects the sky like a mirror, capturing every cloud and beam of sunlight. You pause for a moment, taking in the serenity of the scene. It's almost too beautiful, too perfect—like a dream within a dream. Enough about that dream fuckery, this isn’t Inception…

You walk a bit further and find an old oak tree with sprawling branches that provide ample shade. The roots twist and curl around each other, forming natural seats. You set down your canvas and easel, unrolling your brushes and paints with practiced ease.

The quiet of Fiddler's Green wraps around you like a comforting blanket as you dip your brush into a vibrant blue. You begin to paint the sky, each stroke bringing the scene to life on your canvas. The colors blend and dance under your hand, capturing the essence of this magical place.

"Nice choice," a voice says behind you.

You turn to see Gilbert standing there, his ever-present book tucked under his arm. His eyes twinkle with approval as he takes in your setup.

"Thanks," you reply, smiling. "It's hard not to be inspired here."

Gilbert nods, stepping closer to examine your work. "You've got quite the talent," he observes. "Capturing the spirit of this realm isn't easy with its ever shifting state."

You shrug modestly, focusing on adding detail to a distant tree. "It's all about finding the right moment," you say. "The way the light hits the water or how the flowers sway in the breeze."

He watches you for a moment longer before sitting down on one of the gnarled roots. "Do you ever feel like you're painting more than just what you see?"

You glance at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he says thoughtfully, "it's like you're capturing the very essence of this place—the dreams and hopes it represents."

You consider his words as you continue to paint, adding layers of color and depth. Maybe he's right. Maybe you're not just painting what you see but also what you feel—the peace and tranquility that Fiddler's Green offers.

As you lose yourself in your work, Gilbert's presence becomes a comforting backdrop. He doesn't need to say anything more; his quiet support speaks volumes. You don't notice when Gilbert fades, returning to his disembodied state as Fiddler's Green.

You lose yourself in the flow of colors and brushstrokes, the world around you fading into a blur of creativity. The air hums with the energy of Fiddler's Green, each breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers and fresh grass. It's as if the very essence of The Dreaming seeps into your painting, making it come alive on the canvas.

A shadow falls across your work, and you look up to find Morpheus standing beside you. His presence is as commanding as ever, his dark eyes studying your painting with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"You paint," he states, his voice a soft murmur that seems to resonate through the meadow.

You nod, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. "I'm not really that good," you admit. "But this place is too beautiful not to try."

Morpheus tilts his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Beauty often inspires creation," he says, stepping closer. "May I?"

You swallow hard and nod again, handing him the brush with trembling fingers. His touch is cool but not unpleasant, but rather than fully take the brush, he stands behind you, close enough that you can feel the faint rustle of his robes against your back.

"Relax," he instructs softly. "Let the moment guide your hand."

His fingers gently cover yours, guiding the brush across the canvas with fluid, confident strokes. The colors seem to blend more harmoniously under his direction, each line and curve coming together to form a more cohesive whole.

"See how the light plays on the water?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "Capture that essence—the way it dances and shimmers."

You try to focus on his words, on the way his hand moves with yours, but it's hard to ignore how close he is to you. His presence is overwhelming yet comforting, grounding you in a way you haven't felt in a long time.

"Art is not about perfection," Morpheus continues, his voice a soothing melody. "It's about capturing what lies beneath the surface—the emotions and dreams that shape our reality."

You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in as you follow his lead. The painting begins to transform before your eyes, becoming something more than just an image on a canvas. It feels alive, imbued with the very spirit of The Dreaming.

Morpheus steps back after a few moments, leaving you to finish on your own. His eyes meet yours, filled with an unreadable expression.

"You have more talent than you realize," he says softly.

You look at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Thank you," you whisper.

He inclines his head slightly in acknowledgment before fading back into the landscape, leaving you alone once more with your painting and thoughts.

The colors on your canvas seem brighter now, more vivid—a testament to the brief but intense moment you've just shared with Morpheus. Your brain glitches and a solid blue screen appears behind your eyes, serenity is replaced with panic.

Shit. Matthew is right.

Date Published: 8/7/24

Last Edit: 8/7/24

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[l33bang24]

Healing Hearts (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Single Dad! Chan x Fem Reader

Summary: Y/N, desperate to leave her troubled past behind, decides to start fresh in a foreign country. Struggling to secure a job, she stumbles upon a babysitting opportunity offered by an elderly woman who lives nearby. Babysitting the daughter of a famous idol is the last thing she ever expected to be doing. What will she do when her past comes back to haunt her just as she begins to find peace?

⚠️CW⚠️: Self-hatred, depression, crying, dreams, angst, death of a minor character (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷: @manuosorioh @palindrome969 @real-life-dwaekii @nebugalaxy @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @catlove83 @ivydoesit23 @resi4skz @vinumque @ntlmundy @rose-w-00-d @rundontwalkshesaid @jennibahng @lailac13 @gn4bnahc @addies29 @greyyeti @joyofbebbanburg (Taglist open)

(All dividers are made by @saradika , all credit goes to her)

<Prev

Y/N’s POV

I look up at the towering building ahead of me, its glass façade reflecting the sunlight. Glancing at the paper in my hands, I mutter, "These are the coordinates Eun Ji gave me. I hope she shows up.” I find a nearby bench and settle down, trying to calm my racing thoughts. It's still early, but I needed the extra time after the unsettling nightmare I experienced.

This morning reminded me that no matter how far you run away from your past, it still follows you. I tried going back to sleep, but I was terrified of going back to that hellhole again. My eyes eventually closed right before my alarm clock went off. I rubbed the fatigue out of my eyes and focused on the world around me: cars going and people walking to their destinations.

I sat on the bench, my mind consumed with worry and anticipation, when a figure approached. A lady, slightly older than me, called out, "Y/N?" I looked up and nodded in response. "Hello, Y/N! I'm EunJi. We've been in touch via email regarding an apartment complex." I rose from the bench and greeted her warmly. "I apologize if you weren't able to reach me by phone. I haven't turned it back on just yet." That wasn't entirely true. I had turned it on briefly, only to turn it off again at the sight of missed calls and voicemails.

"It's perfectly fine! Would you be interested in stepping inside for a closer look?" I agreed, and we made our way to the front entrance. As we stepped inside, I noticed the interior was elegantly simple, featuring cream-colored walls and tiled flooring. Directly ahead was the front desk, flanked by elevators on either side and a couple of staircases. After a short wait, Eun Ji returned with the keys to the apartment. As we stepped into the elevator, she pressed the button for the 3rd floor.

As we approach the apartment door, I eagerly anticipate stepping inside. Upon entering, I absorb the details of the space. The apartment spans approximately 30 square meters, with the kitchen positioned to the left and the bathroom to the right from the entrance. Continuing past the kitchen, I encounter the combined bedroom and living area. The bed is on the opposite side of the wall from the kitchen, with the entertainment area conveniently located across from the bed. A storage area is thoughtfully positioned between the bathroom and the TV. Notably, there's a charming balcony straight ahead from the entrance, adding an inviting outdoor element to the living space.

I recognized immediately from the captivating pictures that this space exuded beauty. Still, the moment I set foot inside, seeing my favorite comforting colors in person, was a truly unforgettable experience. The color schemes artfully combined shades of black and gray, creating a sophisticated and inviting atmosphere. Unable to contain my delight, I couldn't help but smile and express to Eun Ji, "It's even more stunning in person than I could have ever imagined." Her response was a warm smile as she remarked, "Well, I'm thrilled to hear that."

Once Eun Ji and I reached an agreement on the cost and signed the contract, I handed over the deposit for the apartment. She assured me she was finalizing the details and promised to contact me as soon as possible to arrange my move-in. As I left the apartment building, a sense of contentment washed over me, marking a gradual but significant step forward in my life.

Bang Chan’s POV

I awakened suddenly, jolted out of another restless night plagued by the recurring dream that seemed impossible to shake. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, the red digits displayed 4 a.m. I let out a weary sigh and pushed the covers aside before heading to the bathroom. After splashing my face with cold water and drying it with a nearby towel, I stared at the reflection in the mirror, filled with discontent. My features seemed to taunt me - the emergence of fine lines, thinning hair, a prominent nose, and the dreaded dark circles under my eyes. I averted my gaze, unwilling to confront the image staring back at me.

Heading to the closet, I opened the door and scanned the neatly arranged rows of clothing. I reached for the stack of neatly folded gym clothes, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers as I selected the perfect outfit for my early morning workout. Anticipating a restless night ahead, I chose something comfortable and breathable. After carefully selecting the clothes, I closed the closet door and headed to the dresser to pick a fresh pair of socks. Once dressed, I grabbed my gym bag and began to neatly fold and pack my post-workout attire, placing the towels on top to ensure I had everything I needed for the morning. Heading into the kitchen, I opened the pantry and selected a couple of granola bars and an apple for quick, on-the-go snacks. Then, I went to the fridge to refill my stainless steel water bottle, ensuring I would stay hydrated throughout the day.

As I gathered everything I needed, I tiptoed down the hallway to check on Miryung in her room. Peeking inside, I noticed her peacefully asleep, which put my mind at ease. I knew I would return before she woke, so I didn't linger too long. With my bag slung over my shoulder and keys in hand, I stepped out of the front door, locking it behind me, ready to tackle the day ahead.

As I made my way to the gym, I quickly realized that it was conveniently close to my house, which made the drive there pleasantly short. Upon arriving, I was pleasantly surprised to find Changbin already there. I couldn't resist asking him, "What brings you here so early?" His response was a nonchalant shrug accompanied by a warm and friendly smile. "I could ask you the same thing, but then I'm reminded that you don't sleep," he quipped. I playfully rolled my eyes and headed to the locker room. I found a vacant locker and retrieved my lock, key, headphones, water bottle, and a granola bar. After stowing away my belongings, I headed back out to meet Changbin.

I began my workout by slowly easing into it with some stretching. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't strain any muscles today. Once I finished my stretches, I started a timer on my watch. I headed to the Chest Fly machine since I had focused on my legs during my last workout. Changbin joined me, and together, we found our rhythm as we moved from one machine to the next, spotting each other along the way.

The timer on my watch went off, and I stopped it. By the time I was done, my hair was clinging to my forehead, my shirt was soaked, and sweat dripped from places I didn't even know I could sweat. I made my way to the locker room, pulling out my fresh change of clothes and shower essentials, ready to clean up after an intense session.

Feeling refreshed after my shower, I checked the time to see that I finished on time, which was great timing. I grabbed my belongings and waved to Changbin as I left. The house was quiet when I unlocked the door, meaning I still had time before Miryung woke up. I threw my workout clothes and towels in the washer and turned it on. I moved to the fridge to make breakfast for Miryung and myself.

I open the fridge to see what I can make. I found a container of leftover rice and a pack of ground beef and decided to make Gyeran Bap with beef Bulgogi. I pulled out all the needed ingredients: an iron skillet and a saucepan. I place the saucepan on the stove and turn to low heat. I add the leftover rice and add three tablespoons of water. I break up the clumps and add some butter to it. Putting a lid on the pan, I place the skillet on the stove next and turn the dial to medium heat.

As I worked on cooking the meat, rice, and eggs, I carefully plated everything with a side of kimchi that Mrs. Kim had left for us. My little angel had already woken up and was perched on a stool at the countertop, her curious eyes following my every move in the kitchen. "Do you want milk or pineapple juice?" I asked, placing her meal in front of her. "Pineapple," she replied with a sweet smile. I couldn't help but smile back, thinking, "Just like her Daddy." As I turned to serve her, I saw her patiently waiting for me to say a blessing so she could start eating.

My heart swells with emotion as I sit beside her, preparing to say the blessing before our meal. As we both dive into the delicious food, there's a comfortable silence between us, filled with contentment. Once we've finished eating, I gather our dishes, and that's when she surprises me with unexpected praise. "Your cooking has improved, Daddy," she says. I'm taken aback, wondering whether to be pleased or insulted. Miryung then comes down from her stool and offers to help me with the dishes, her sweet gesture melting any uncertainty away. I smile at her and reply, "Of course, Pumpkin, let me grab a stool." I show her how to handle the smaller tasks like utensils and bowls while I take care of the skillet and saucepan.

We relocated to the living room and suddenly engaged in a spontaneous tickle fight. It all began with her playfully poking my sides, which led to me retaliating by tickling her, causing her to erupt into fits of joyful laughter. After a while, I relented, and Miryung then climbed onto my lap and nestled herself into the warmth of my chest. The kids and I have some vacation time before our comeback. I had already made plans for both of us; I just needed to tell her, but Miryung beat me to it. “I had a dream about Mommy last night.” I look down at her with a sad smile. “What did you dream about?”

She picks her head up from my chest to look at me. “She was waiting for me at the big tree on a hill. She told me how beautiful I am and that I look just like she did when she was younger. She also told me that I look like you too. She wished she could be with us, but God had a different plan for her.” I feel a stray tear run down my cheek. “She said she would want us to move on with our lives. We desire to be happy and know she's in a great place now.” I was fighting back tears, but a couple spilled through. Miryung looked down at her hands, and her body started shaking from her troubled sobs.

“Mommy held me, Daddy, and told me it would be alright that she loves me and you. She even sang me my favorite song.” She wraps her tiny arms around me, and I pull her to me tightly. “I miss her so much, Daddy. Why did she have to leave?” I closed my eyes and tried not to reminisce about the day's events. “I don't know, Pumpkin, but do you know what?” She pulls back to look at me with tear-stained cheeks. “She brought the most beautiful little girl into this world. She loved you so much. She sang to you daily and told many stories about her childhood. How she wanted to raise you, how she was raised. She had these crazy pregnancy cravings I had to fix for her. Your mom was a fighter; she fought until she couldn't anymore. But she is right; she's in a much better place and no longer in pain.”

I kiss her cheeks, smiling at her. “We’re not always given tomorrow; that's why we should always be thankful for today and never take anything for granted.” She smiles at me and kisses me on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy.” I kiss her forehead, “I love you too, Pumpkin. More than you'll ever know.”

We both lay there for a while before I remembered the good news. “Do you want to go see your grandparents?”

(Finally got a new chapter up! I decided to add Changbin since it was his birthday when I wrote it. So Happy Birthday, Changbin! I hope you all like it. LMK in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist. Thanks! ❤️)

[underthecrazy20]

Always with you ~ Yang Jungwon

Genre: Vampire!au, Soulmate!au, fluff, angst.

Warnings: Asylum esk themes, blood and some horror esk moments.

W/c: 4k

A/n: None of the actions/personalities portray any of Enhypen in real life. It's just for entertainment purposes.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You sat in the window seat of your room in the orphanage, reading a book on animals of all kinds. The stuffed animals were perched along the ledge as well as on your rocking chair and the bed. They were the selected few the orphanage caretakers provided to keep you entertained, even though you were 'almost' eighteen, you wanted to keep them with you. A wardrobe stood up on the north wall–the same as the bed–at the foot of the bed frame. In the corner your body faced, was a cabinet with drawers and a few unimportant dusty objects that were on top. A simple faded green circle rug sat in the middle of the wooden floor with books of all kinds laid out open to the crisp air. Your plain light blue dress was spread out around your legs keeping your pale skin covered, and your waist long hair was pinned back nicely in its normal half up half down style you were always instructed to wear. 

     A gentle breeze came over you through the crack of the opened glass pane window, causing you to look down at the big front yard. Other kids played with outdoor games or dolls in the grass under the great oak trees; but you stayed inside in your personal assigned room for two reasons: one, the kids were frightened of the cold behavior you possessed around them and two, you were a vampire and was afraid they would be suspicious of how you did not behave like them. But you, out of everyone who stayed in the orphanage, only knew of your dark secret and had been determined to keep it that way. The sun was blocked behind the gloomy sky in the afternoon sky as the day went on; today was the day that no one had to go to the medical room for a check up. 

     The rain stopped thirty minutes ago, allowing the kids to play outside. Most kids that arrived here were sick and went under special treatments. But rumor has it that the treatments didn't turn into anything else but death. The caretakers favored treating you because of your dead like appearance and no matter what they put into you it would never make a difference. Of course you knew exactly why and the caretakers were slowly beginning to exploit what you were with each test. Something they injected into your neck did weaken you for a few minutes and made you lethargic which you did not like. But because you were a vampire you came back to your senses quickly and the caretakers would act as if nothing happened and that you were healthy.  Not really fitting in and being the weird freak out of the bunch of kids that come and go here was beginning to feel stressful without anyone to relate to in this place. 

Your abilities are to speak with any type of animal as well as take control of their mind and body. You tried your best to hide your gift as it previously caused trouble and damage to you back at the old orphanage you stayed at.

~Back at the previous orphanage~ 

     Outside near the kitchen side of the building, hidden in the forest trees, you hunted for your next meal. All the other kids could eat freely with each other, while you took your food that the kitchen maids prepared for you to the woods where you could properly dispose of it and eat your kind of food. When you had gotten a rabbit to eat, one of the newcomers that arrived two days ago took interest in you and secretly followed you into the forest without you knowing. He didn’t find anything suspicious until you turned around freezing in place.  Finding him standing a few feet behind you brought panic into your mind. Jungwon, who was also a vampire, was not surprised or scared like you had thought he would be. He only told you to be careful of how you hunted and then left without another word. But you ignored his warning and continued to live the way you wanted, Jungwon being with you every step you dared to take.

   >>>

     The forest was beginning to become dusk as you walked back to the orphanage after drinking your third animal that day. As you stepped over a fallen log, a sudden twig snapped behind you. Pausing, you stayed still using your hearing to detect anyone around. After a few seconds of waiting, you heard nothing happening, so you continued to walk on. But not even taking two steps forward, a hand catches your wrist turning you around mid-step. You were then standing face to face with Jungwon. He was holding his index finger up to his lips to tell you to be quiet. Your defense cleared your mind once you figured out it was him who grabbed you. 

"What are you doing out here at this hour?!" he whisper-shouted. You huffed pulling away from his strong grip. 

"Eating," you replied, with a shrug. He sighed in frustration, glancing at the forest cautiously. 

"If you don’t be careful someone will notice," he warned you. You rolled your eyes and began to walk again in the direction of the orphanage. 

"I will be fine, you worry too much Wonnie," you teased him. He caught up with you and grabbed your hand. 

"I worry because I care about you," he explained, sternly. “Do you remember what I told you that day by the pond?” Jungwon asked you. You sighed, turning to face him.

“We will protect each other for eternity,” you recited to him. He nodded, bringing his hand up to brush your hair behind your ear.

“I meant it, I want you to be safe, okay?” he spoke gently.

You smiled with a short nod and gave him a sweet kiss on his lips. Then continued to walk with him to the edge of the forest where you both could see the big stone house. You both walked up the side of the building rounding the corner to the front door. Reaching the great double doors, he stopped you from continuing into the orphanage.

"I love you, you know that right?" he asked in a whisper. So that any prying ears didn’t hear.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, giving his hand a squeeze.

     Jungwon and you connected immediately after your first encounter, it did take a few days to talk to each other after the incident in the forest, but you two were inseparable after that. You both did everything together in secret to avoid suspicion. Jungwon was caring, protective, and loyal to you. He was your best friend and soulmate, the very strong bond was growing the more you two were around each other. It would be unbreakable soon enough.

     Unfortunately the bond went to ruins in a matter of hours, the next morning very early when the days began to stay dark longer. You were in the upstairs living room reading a book by the fireplace using the light to see the words on the pages. Some footsteps brought you out of the world of ink. Before you could process any action, you were grabbed by two males that were much bigger than you, they pulled you up and dragged you down the stairs. You did not dare to make a sound as the other kids were fast asleep. The men took you outside down the dirt path to the front of the gate to a wagon that was parked close to the road. 

     The dawn was still far from peeking over the horizon, the only light was the lanterns on the wagon. All the while in the distance stood the headmistress who watched you be taken away with relief. The wood scraped your back at the force they used to hall you up into the wagon. Taking one last glance at the house, fear and pain filled your heart as you realized Jungwon didn’t know you were being taken. He would be so worried and heartbroken. You can’t just leave him.

“Jungwon!!” you suddenly shouted out, startling the men in the wagon. They quickly silenced you before you could call once more. As the world around you went dark and the sound and movement of the wagon began to drive away from the orphanage leaving your heart clenched in pain. Your bond ached for the presence of your soulmate.

     In the later morning, Jungwon made his way through the whole house trying to find you, the confusion and fear blocking his mind was making him dizzy. As he entered the family room, he noticed a book turned over on the floor next to the fireplace. He came up to the book and picked it up, finding that it was the same one you had been reading. 

“They took her early this morning,” a soft voice spoke behind him. Jungwon looked over his shoulder seeing a boy with black hair and pale skin around his age standing in the doorway holding a teddy bear. His name was Sunoo.

“Who took her?” he asked, he could feel his own eyes turn at the thought of someone hurting you. Sunoo shrugged.

“Someone, who doesn’t like vampires,” he responded. Jungwon stood up rushing up to him, getting up in his face.

“What makes you think there are vampires here?” he questioned as if it was a threat. Sunoo let out a giggle. 

“You're not the only vampire who lives in this building,” he whispered. Jungwon backed away in shock. What? He is a vampire too? How is that possible? Just then another guy much taller than Jungwon and Sunno came in. His name was Heeseung, Jungwon remembered.

“Sunoo, leave him be,” he ordered. “The others are waiting,” Was he also a vampire? 

“I'll be around if you need our help.” without another word Sunoo left the room. Jungwon sighed looking at the open window. 

“I will find you," he vowed, speaking aloud as if you could hear him. 

~Back to present orphanage~

     You had not seen Jungwon since that early spring morning, leaving you to fall into a depressive state, everyday the pain in your heart grew as the days dragged on without Jungwon. But about two weeks ago, it was going to be your three year anniversary of your stay at this orphanage. One partly cloudy afternoon, you were outside when a hummingbird flew down to your figure, who was placed in the middle of the garden, squatting down to the plants picking the required daily rations of herbs for the kitchen. At first you were not interested and irritated with its presence, but after a few tries to grab your attention, you finally looked up at the bird sitting on the little wooden label stuck in the ground. You had found a little skinny white ribbon in its beak. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you gently took the string and plucked a basil leaf tying the ribbon around it then gave it back to the hummingbird. Sending it back where it traveled from. 

     Another week went by, around eight o’clock in the morning the same hummingbird came back this time to your window with a little note tied to its foot. You rushed to the window, opening it letting him come in. Once you retrieved the note it said, 'Wait for me.' Jungwon. You sat all day long with butterflies in your stomach trying to understand the message. A call from outside by the headmistress broke your train of memories. The boys and girls got called inside for afternoon tea and snacks making you mentally cringe. As for you, the thought of food other than blood did not peak your interest. Speaking of snacks, it was almost pre-feeding time, which was only one hour. 

     Closing the book on your knees, you began to stand up when a sudden movement came from outside of the window down in the trees. You looked to the distant trees near the edge of the forest immediately spotting a tall male around your age leaning against a tall tree. He was looking right at you with curious eyes, he had chestnut brown hair and his clothes were a different style then the boys who stayed here. His eyes were like a doe's and he also had a soft handsome face and seemed to be fairly tall. Your eyes remained on him until a few kids came back outside to collect their toys distracting you for a second. When you looked back at the male he had vanished. Humming in confusion, you shrugged it off walking away from the window.

     Right around supper time, you finally needed to eat. Placing the last book back onto the shelf, you straightened up moving to the closed door reaching out to the door handle. When you opened the door however two female caretakers stood at the door blocking the way out. Their faces looked soft and friendly.

“The headmistress wants to see you, come with us,” the first one informed you. Feeling nervous and uncertain, you nodded slowly and followed them down to the left of the hall, but instead of moving more to the left to go downstairs to the office, they moved to the right. So you continued to walk past the entertainment room then down another hall reaching the end of it to the last door on the right. A feeling of dread came to your mind as the door opened and your body began to retreat from it. The second female caretaker caught your arm before you could rush back to your room. Quickly, she silenced you by covering your mouth with her hand, she then had help from the first caretaker and together they dragged you down the wooden flight of stairs down into the basement. The treatments were held down here, only, it was not a new month, so your treatment was already completed. 

     Fear clouded your mind as the stairs became more and more less, you did not know why you were being brought down here, but you did not like it.

“Please, my treatment is already complete! Why am I down here?” you asked as you fought their grip. Of course you got no answer. As your feet touched the cold damp stone floor, a male caretaker met the three of you at the end of the steps to help control your erratic behavior.   Fighting the attempt to use your full strength, the door to the hallway leading to the room was in view now. Unfortunately, it was not an examination hall, no, it was an experiment hall with the metal chairs in the center of the room. The dimly lit hallway showed the headmistress of the orphanage standing with her arms folded neatly in front of her. A fierce look of determination and disgust plastered on her pug like face. 

"Why am I going to the experiment chairs?" you frantically questioned her. She smiled reassuringly, which you saw right through. 

"Just a few extra tests we need to do," she simply replied. You panicked by stuttering out noises  of confusion. She gave a blank expression before giving a small nod to the door to her right. Without another moment to spare, the male caretaker began to drag you to the hallway. 

"No! Please! Call it off?!" you cried out. "I don't want to be tested!!" No one listened. You tried to break free without using your vampire strength, but it didn't work as well as you wanted. The door opened and the hallway came into sight. Your body was forced forward; there were small windows above the doors on both sides lining the hall, the sun was beginning to set giving the atmosphere an orange hue. 

     A door, five rooms down from the main door, opened and a few female nurses surrounded the small box-like room working on setting up medical equipment. In the center a chair with leather straps was standing. Something in you snapped as soon as your eyes came in contact with the metal chair, shoving your arm hard to the right, you sent the male to your right into the wall making it cave in slightly. A different male to your left immediately grabbed your free arm only to struggle shortly after to keep his hold on you. Before any more damage could happen from you, a sharp sting came from the nape of your neck. You screamed in pain, then reaching back to your neck gripping the object, you pulled it around to your eyes, it was a syringe with a blue residue left in the tube. No! Slowly you began to lose control of your surroundings, slumping to the floor as your vision faded into darkness. 

***

     You woke up in a forest full of trees, it was dull and misty outside around early morning. The birds sang sweetly in the trees and life in the forest was starting to wake up. Looking around the surrounding area, you noticed someone standing off in the distance. Walking closer, the person was wearing a gray blue sweater that had a hood, it was a strange style and looked from a different century. He seemed to have been looking around like he was lost until his eyes fell upon you. It was Jungwon. You felt as if your heart jumped to your throat, he was standing in front of you. Dashing a few feet ahead to close the distance between you both to touch him; a sudden invisible glass like wall trapped you from going any farther. You screamed out his name but he couldn't hear your cries. 

   Then the scene changed to a warm homey living room you had never seen before, but it wasn't the one that looked like a home, more like a boarding house. There were seven boys entertaining one another with a piano or dancing while some of them sat on a sofa laughing. A certain boy in the corner caught your eye immediately, it was Jungwon again. He was also watching the others play before his gaze turned straight to you. A smirk came along his face as he tilted his head to the side slightly, giving you a peek of his fangs. Found you.

***

     Jerking awake on the experiment chair, your body felt like led, it was only limited by the leather straps buckled down along your fatigued figure. The room was dark except for the small spotlight above you; to the right in the faint light was the door and a rolling table that had surgery tools displayed. Your senses heightened when your nose smelled something intensely sweet. Your mouth started to feel dry and tight, glancing to the table next to you was a bowl that held a deep crimson red liquid. Blood. But it smelled different, it was much more sweet then the blood you normally consumed. It was human blood.

     One nurse was present in the room, but she was busy taking notes at the desk in the nearby corner to notice you wake up. With a powerful pull you tried to break free from the buckles, but to no avail nothing helped. Your voice could not bring aid either, you were stuck until the other nurses would come finish the work of the test, now that you were awake. But the blue liquid would soon wear off and you could officially escape this place you once called home. Your baby blue dress is replaced with a plain white dress as well as your nicely pinned hair was now down in a tangled mess from threshing around.

“Oh good, you are awake,” the nurse said, standing up.

     A few minutes passed of sitting in the chair, the nurse finished not long ago attaching strange wires and needles in your arms. But you could slowly feel your strength come back to you each second that went by. Suddenly, the faint smell of smoke and fresh blood filled your nose. You sharply turned your head to the door. What was happening? Just then you could hear loud breathing and footsteps coming from upstairs. Then the word fire was shouted out faintly.  Looking at the nurse at the desk, she finally stood up after hearing a female cry out from down the hall behind the closed door. She opened the door glancing both ways down the hall before her gaze fixed to the left. The look of fear and terror came upon her face, she then quickly shut the door locking it, after it was secured, she came over to the table of tools grabbing a surgeon knife as a weapon. Your eyes stayed fixed on the door curious as to what was out there in the hall.  You heard slow stocking footsteps echo in the long hallway, before it stopped in front of the door. It was quiet, except for the shaking breath of the nurse who was cowardly hiding behind your chair. Your eyes watched the door’s movement carefully.  

     The lock on the door slowly unlocked itself before it creaked open wide. In dim lighting from the lights in the hall, a figure stood tall, it was a boy with blonde hair. He didn't look but fifteen years of age and held a playful smirk. His eyes were the only thing holding your attention at the moment. They were the color red. Blood red. His peering eyes gazed around the room landing on you and then behind you. As he stepped in the nurse screamed bloody murder and moved closer to the wall. 

"Who are you?!" she squeaked. The boy stocked into the room keeping silent as he made his way to her. She dodged him and ran to the door only to be blocked by his frame in a blink of an eye. Superspeed. He then broke her leg and caught her as she fell to the floor and dragged her out into the hall. You sit frozen as you hear her cries fade into nothing, the smoke is getting worse and you could hear the orphanage breaking above from the fire. Not even a second after the nurse was dragged out a different person appeared in the door frame. He was shorter than the boy you previously saw, he had brown hair and puppy-like eyes. Glancing down the room he spotted you, he looked to his right and motioned his hand in this direction. Was he going to hurt you? Are there more vampires? A sudden strong pull grew in your chest taking your breath away. It couldn’t be. The boy moved out of the doorway letting in another person you didn't expect to see. Jungwon took his friend’s place in the doorway looking in. When he saw you, he didn't spare a second coming straight to you. 

"Good job Jake!" he praised his friend. 

"Jungwon?!" you exclaimed in shock. He gave a small smile, but then frowned at the wires and needles in you. His eyes turned red in anger, he began to take them off. Then he grabs the leather straps, breaking them off your body. As soon as you were free, you threw your arms around him holding tight feeling the ache of the bond heal.

"I'm here," his gentle voice said, returning the hug. He didn't change in personality, but his voice was more mature and smooth since the last time you saw him. He pulled away cupping the side of your face to look at you.

"I can’t believe it’s you, I missed you," you whispered, admiring his face. Even after years of not seeing him you faintly remembered his facial features that strongly return to your memories all at once. 

"I missed you too," he said, kissing your knuckles. 

     Just then the surrounding of the building began to crack and crumble under you guys. Slipping out of the chair, your legs gave out under you from being in the chair without movement for too long. Jungwon then picked you up without a thought and transported you to the outside. When the cool fresh air hits you, you breathe in relaxation, the grass under your feet feels soft as Jungwon sets you down. He did however keep his arm around you to make you stable while you two watched the building go up in flames. 

     Soon six boys came out from the forest in a rush. You realized they were from that fever dream you had not twenty minutes ago. Jungwon's arms wrapped tighter around your frame. Resting his forehead against your temple in relief as your gaze continued to watch the fire consume. 

"You're free now," he whispered. The realization came upon you and your body slumped into his body, your eyes closing in the process. He was right, you were free. 

Two hundred years later, your steps were light as you made your way to the table where the members talked with one another. The business room was completely dark, the only light that was present was the city lights of New York outside. Your long black sleeve pencil dress sparkled in the light making you look like a diamond. You came around the table carrying your glass of red liquid, you gave Jay and Heeseung a smile as you passed them and then slipped in between Ni-ki and Jungwon. Ni-ki playful bumped your arm in acknowledgement, you smirked and repeated the same action to him. Jungwon noticed your presence after his conversation with Jake ended. His arm came around your waist hugging your frame close to his. You wouldn’t have changed meeting him in the forest that day, because as fate would have it, he would be in return your soulmate in eternity. 

“You look beautiful my love,” he complemented. You grinned at his words.

“Thank you Wonnie,” you responded. He smiled, slightly shaking his head at his nickname, looking back at the live city.

“Are you ready for a new beginning?” he asked in a whisper. You locked eye contact with him before leaning in, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Hearing the countdown of the New York ball drop.  

“Always with you,” you replied in the same tone. Jungwon smiled, hugging you close if that was possible, allowing you to lean into his side. Then you and the boys raised your glasses to the new year of the 2000’s ready for a new beginning to happen.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[whenlostinthedarkness]

HC: Ellie + Eavesdropping

Warning: 18+, smutty smut smut smuttttt, legit mdni

Summary: Ellie hears you pleasuring yourself.

Pairing: Ellie x afab!reader

A/N: This is all smut so ✨enjoy✨

The fact that Ellie was gone for another 24 hours was quite literally driving you insane.

The two of you, usually joined at the hip, were not used to this much time apart from one another.

Let alone, not having sex with each other for this long

So you did what any other lone, amorous person would do.

Your hand snaked below the fabric of your underwear, easily feeling the wetness on your inner thighs as it seeped out from your folds

Instantly, you were a whining mess as your pointer & middle finger began slowly dragging up and down your core.

Applying just the right amount of pressure to have your legs shaking every time your fingers dragged along your clit.

After a few eased movements, your touch settled directly on your clit as it pulsed underneath your fingers.

Your eyes were shut tight as your mind went through a slideshow of mental images of the times you and your partner Ellie were intimate with one another.

It almost, almost, felt like she was nearly there.

Of course nothing would ever equate to the real thing.

Ellie's thumb being pressed into your mouth, her hands as she roughly held down your hips while her lips sucked on your clit, her whines and pleads as you pinned her arms above her head and ground your naked bodies against one another.

Fuck her noises.

Whether she was the one topping or bottoming or both, she always had the raunchiest noises that left her tongue, which in return made your wetness pool that much more.

Your hands were now near vibrating speed as you moved them quickly along your clit, applying as much pressure as possibly could.

In the heat of your self pleasure, you hadn't noticed the noise of the front door opening.

Ellie did try to open and close it quietly, not knowing if you were sleeping or not, so it wasn't a surprise you weren't aware of her surprise entrance.

After the creaking of the floor ceased underneath Ellie, once all of her outdoor clothing items were discarded by the front door, she heard the vague muffles of what appeared to be cries.

Ellie squinted her eyes as she shuffled her feet along the floor, following the noises that led her to your shared bedroom.

Until finally it all clicked for her.

The heavy pants, your whining mixed in with the sound of your fingers moving against your wetness.

Meanwhile, your release was nearing as you continued your assault on your pussy.

Now with two of your fingers plunged deep inside of you as the fingers on your other hand rubbed furiously on your clit.

You whimpered several 'fuck's' as you came hard, allowing your liquids from your orgasm to freely fall onto the sheets as you road out your orgasm with your fingers still fucking deep inside yourself.

It took all of Ellie's strength not to open that door and take in eyeful after eyeful of you fucking yourself, and most likely doing so because she hadn't been home.

But if she were being honest, Ellie got severely aroused just hearing you through the door...imaging what you were doing to that pretty pussy she loved so much.

Once your noises had stopped, Ellie pressed her hand against the door, nudging it open.

You gasped as you watched her take in your naked body, literally seconds after coming undone under your own touch.

"Ellie?!"

Ellie smirked, taking in her surroundings.

Your naked body resting with your back to the bed and your legs spread wide open. Your pussy still covered in your wetness as well as some visible on the grey sheets.

Ellie moved her gaze from your body to your eyes.

She smirked as she came closer, pressing the palm of her hand to your knee cap as your legs remained spread.

You watched as Ellie's gaze moved down, a smirk spreading to her lips that was almost deviously.

"You should clean the mess you made," Ellie said before dragging her eyes back up to yours.

Your mouth hung open, still in shock from Ellie being home and, evidently, hearing you pleasure yourself.

And Ellie loved every second of it.

Ellie exited the room without saying another word, leaving you confused, yet eager to get your hands on her

But after you cleaned up after yourself.

[hannahbarberra162]

hOrnithology for Beginners

On Ao3

Next chapter

I know I said it was a one shot but I lied. I think it will be 4 chapters.

Marco X Reader, no use of "y/n." Fluffy fun.

Summary: You spend your days waitressing, using all your free time working to become an ornithologist and hunting poachers. You meet and befriend a rare mythical bird, with clear intelligence and astounding beauty. At the same time, an annoying group of pirates are docked at the island. One of them with a stupid haircut keeps trying to charm you, but you hate pirates and especially this one. He’s persistent - can’t he just leave you alone so you can hang out with your new Phoenix friend?

Marco isn’t sure what to do - you love him in his phoenix form, but you hate him in his human form. It's a tough spot for birds and bird watchers alike.

Notes:

I think that it could reasonably be assumed that the mythical Zoans are not the only of their kinds. They are the just only humans who can turn into mythical creatures. Rob Lucci is not the only leopard, Jack isn’t the only mammoth, Yamato isn't the only kitsune, etc. For the purposes of this story, there are more than one of each mythical creature, but only one Devil Fruit user who can turn into one. So reader isn't totally off that it is a phoenix, she just doesn't know it's The Phoenix.

~~~

You tightened your apron ties and scanned the patrons coming in for the lunch rush. Looked like the usual groups - some tourists, some bird watchers, some locals. You didn’t see any obvious waterfoul - your punny code word for pirates. One of the reasons you kept this shitty job was that it gave you a good peek into everyone coming and going on the island. Your island was famous for its stunning bird migrations. It was the southernmost island before the longest landless stretch of sea in the Grand Line. Flocks of birds would often rest at the island in preparation for the long journey to the next set of islands. It was also a wonderful location to try to spot rare and mythical birds. You’d seen a few and captured their essences in your sketchbook. 

Unfortunately, waterfoul weren’t interested in capturing images. They wanted to catch and kill rare birds for easy money. Poaching was a huge problem on the island, one that you frequently fought against. It was your personal crusade to try and stop as many poachers as possible. You’d caught some others - a few Marines, some local boys - but the primary offenders were almost always waterfoul. You carefully watched when crews came to the port, listening for signs that they were going to look for avian treasures. It usually took a week for log poses to set, so you had a good chance of seeing anyone suspicious. You didn’t care to keep track of any specific crew or pirates - they were all the same. Same arrogance, same swaggering attitude, same cocky assurance that they could do anything they wanted to with no repercussions. You hadn’t met any halfway decent pirates, and you didn’t think you ever would. 

Satisfied that you wouldn’t have to worry as much today, you began your shift. It was grinding your soul to shreds being inside and talking to customers when you could be spending it outdoors, watching and drawing birds. But you needed to make money to afford art supplies, new ornithology books, and poison for your dart tips. So inside you stayed, taking orders from idiots who didn’t know if the mashed potatoes were mashed or fried. After a grueling shift, you were finally able to leave. You chucked your apron into the dirty bin and left immediately, turning down your coworkers requests to hang out as a group after the shift ended.

“C’mon, you never hang out with me. Let’s go grab a drink,” Etta said, giving you puppy dog eyes. Etta was your work BFF, and your only real friend on the island. 

“I can’t, I’m going to try to catch -”

“The next bird migration, I know. But there’s always a bird migration on this island, that’s the deal here. You can see one tomorrow, the next day, next month, next year even! But there’s only one 2 berri marg night per week…besides I heard there are some hot new pirates in town.” She waggled her eyebrows at you, while you pretended to barf. 

“You know how I feel about pirates. But I do wanna hang out. How about this? Tomorrow after our shift I’ll buy you a margarita, even if it costs more than 2 berri.” You really did like Etta so you compromised - one night out would be OK, you probably wouldn’t miss much. She stuck her tongue out at you.

“Fine, but you can’t flake out. If you do, I’m leaving you to do side prep all by yourself. Think of all those lemons you’d have to cut.” She rolled her eyes, but it was a plan. You were truly excited - she was the first friend you’d made since you were a child. People often told you that you were “intimidating,” or “prickly,” or “difficult,” which was all just code for “bitchy.” You didn’t care - you wanted to be yourself, not try to dull your edges for people who wouldn’t like you either way. So you were happy to be friends with Etta, who liked you despite your “poor attitude” (as your boss called it). 

You changed out of your work clothes and into your hiking gear, taking your day pack with you. This is what  you liked most - going into the wild to watch for birds, especially legendary ones. You walked down to the forest edge and started on a well trodden path. It didn’t take you long before you had diverged from the path and were going rogue. You’d never see anything really good on the tourist paths - people were too loud and startled the birds away. Besides, you’d been on the island a long time now and you knew the best places to wait and watch. 

You picked your way through the dense forest towards the hidden waterfall. It was your slice of heaven on earth. It was secluded enough that you’d never seen anyone else there. The area surrounding the waterfall was more open than the forest floor, making it easy for camping overnight. The water was always cool and clear, wonderful for swimming on a hot day. The waterfall wasn’t terribly large or loud, bringing a pleasant sound of rushing water. There was an alcove behind the waterfall, large enough for three or so people. Leafy trees lined the banks of the river the waterfall fell into, bringing shade on hot days. It was your happy place, where you retreated both physically and mentally when stressed. Today was no exception.

You reached your destination and put your pack down on a familiar flat rock under the shade of a tree. You took out your pencil, sketchbook, and binoculars and started your stake out. You were already mentally tallying the different bird cries you heard. So far, nothing out of the ordinary, just local birds trilling. You also delighted in the ordinary - you enjoyed seeing the same species day after day, learning more about their habits and manner of living. You were sketching a local starling that was imitating the sounds of transponder snails - pretty well, actually - when all of a sudden, your ears perked up when you heard alarm calls. It wasn’t a call for mobbing - when smaller birds would form a group to ward off a predatory bird. These were definitely alarm calls - short, high pitched, loud cries to warn their flocks that a predator was near. 

You were excited, this was great news for you. Hearing these calls meant that something big was coming your way. It might be a more common predator, but maybe not. You’d seen a lightning Secretary bird once that caused the exact same alarm cries. You’d barely caught sight of it before it was gone. Another time, the cries alerted you to an ice Roc perched in a tree a little farther down the river. You’d carefully stalked the bird and were able to get a few sketches of it done before it flew away. Those were the rarest ones you’d ever seen, and you were hoping for another. 

Straining your ears listening to the bird cries, you grabbed your sketchbook and followed them towards the source. You crept along as quickly as you could deeper in the forest, silently walking on the sides of your feet. The cries weren’t quieting down, meaning the predator was still in the area. Scanning, you inhaled a gasp as you saw the apex predator at hand. Perched on a branch overlooking the river was a phoenix. A blue fire phoenix, with dark blue almost purple accent markings that made it look like it was wearing glasses. You could barely remember to breathe in its presence.

You stood there agog with your mouth open until the bird moved slightly to shift its feathers. You opened your sketchbook and drew quick sketches of it before you missed your chance. You jotted notes of the colors, wanting to remember exactly what it looked like. Seeing the phoenix was like seeing a god in the flesh. It was a blur of blue flames, ending with wisps of yellow. The movment of its body was like watching the waterfall, endless and yet each moment fleeting at the same time. You could scarcely believe that you were able to see one, much less sketch it. You must have been making too much noise because it looked straight at you despite your hiding spot in the brush.

You weren’t worried about it hurting or killing you - that would be an honor. Well, not really, but you typically found predatory birds disinterested in humans. You kept on sketching even though your hands were shaking. The bird cocked its head to the side and continued to watch you. It almost felt…awkward, like you had intruded on a private moment. After a minute or so it seemed to have gathered whatever information it wanted and flew away. Even watching it leave was magnificent, tail feathers like a chain of golden coins dancing in the wind. When it finally left your sight, you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. That was almost orgasmic for you. You rushed to pack up your things so you could go home and sketch with detail and notations before you forgot anything.

On your way back, the only thing on your mind was the phoenix. You thought about its elegance, its restrained power, its understated intelligence. It was the most striking bird you’d ever seen out of the thousands you’d cataloged. You thought more about its coloring, trying to think of the exact shades of blue and yellow you’d use to describe it. But now that you thought about it, seeing a blue fire phoenix was peculiar. Everything you’d heard about phoenixes depicted them as yellow bodied with red accents. But not much was known about any legendary bird so perhaps this one was rarer or maybe hadn’t been discovered yet. It had some kind of marking on its chest - but unfortunately where you were standing obscured your ability to see the marks directly. The glasses markings were a little funny - almost like a spectacled owl. It did give the phoenix a distinctive and distinguished look, like a scholar or a doctor. You were practically skipping with delight towards your home, thinking of all the little details you wanted to remember.

~~~

The next day, you went to work with a smile on your face. Not even the sight of waterfoul in your section could dull your mood today. You’d spent hours sketching and coloring drawings of the phoenix you’d seen, writing every possible memory you had down to preserve it forever. Etta wasn’t in yet - she was starting a shift staggered an hour after yours- but you’d have to tell her about it when you saw her again. Smiling, you walked to the table of waterfoul getting your pad out to take their order. As you got to the table, your smile dropped and your bitch face turned on. You set it to extra sour just for your own fun. 

You looked at the assembled men - you saw two stupid hairstyles, two stupid hats, and one well...there was nothing stupid looking about the last man. He was absolutely gorgeous with black glossy hair set in a classic style and incredible geisha style makeup. Whatever, even if he was good looking he was still a pirate. The man with the stupidest hairstyle smiled warmly at you, like he knew you. You dropped your neutral face into a frown.

“What do you want?” you said in a flat tone.

“Aren’t you supposed to greet customers with a friendly welcome?” said stupid hairstyle two with a smirk. You wanted to dump a cup of water on his pompadour. Or maybe soup.

“Of course! Whatever would you like today, my fair patrons?” you replied in an overly sweet and simpering voice. You even curtsied at the end to hammer the point home. The point being - fuck off. As soon as the words left your lips, you went back to frowning. Pineapple Hair looked at you curiously.

Cowboy hat laughed and said “I’ll start with three steaks, rare. And a beer.” Pineapple Hair, Pompadour, Twirly Mustache and Glamor Man also placed their orders. When they were done, you turned on your heel and went to put in their orders. You attended your other tables and customers, servicing them all while thinking about your phoenix. 

After a while, you saw Etta enter through the staff door. Before she could get to the floor you quickly pulled her to the kitchen. You both spoke excitedly at the same time.

“Guess what - “

“Guess what - “

“You go first,” Etta said, listening intently.

“I saw a legendary bird last night! It was everything I could have ever dreamed of! It was absolutely incredible…I can’t wait to show you the sketches.” Etta was one of the only people you showed your drawings to. You loved the art of drawing but felt self conscious about your ability.

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you,” Etta’s eyes lit up. She always liked when you shared your ornithology information with her and dutifully listened to some of your ramblings..

“What’s your news?” Maybe 2 berri margs were available again tonight?

“So I went out to the bar last night and met someone for a little fun. They’re in town until their log pose resets. I was talking to them for a while and mentioned that you are a real bird expert, not like the shitty tour guides who don’t know anything.” You narrowed your eyes. This wasn’t heading in a direction you liked.

“He’s actually interested in beetles, not birds. But I said that beetles are an important part of several bird’s diets,” she said, hedging around something.

“That’s true, you’ve been listening to my rants,” you said, still on guard. There was something she wasn’t saying and you had a feeling you weren’t going to like it. 

“So I might have volunteered you to come on a double date with him and his friend birdwatching and looking for beetles,” she said in a rush while starting to steeple her hands in a begging motion.

“What aren’t you telling me? There’s more to it than that.” you asked suspiciously. 

“Uhm. Well, the thing is. They’re pirates -”

“Etta! Oh my god. I knew it was something -”

“No, no listen! Listen. They seem actually nice and reasonable. The one I met yesterday, Ace, was so sweet and hot! I really like him.”

“Ohmyfuckinggod. Pirates? Etta they’ll probably kill us and take our stuff if we go to the woods with them. Or worse.”

“No! They’re like, high ranking pirates, so you know they have to be good.”

“That is not at all what that means.” You crossed your arms, and waved at the little window in the kitchen door that looked into the dining room.

“Look, there’s shitty pirates out there right now. They’ve already annoyed me and it’s only been like half an hour. Think about what a few hours would do to me.” Etta looked out the window. 

“Oh, actually he’s right there! Isn’t he hot?” Etta ducked down so he couldn’t see her.

“Who? Which one?” You really hoped it was Glamor Man, but he didn’t seem outdoorsy. You looked at the table where Cowboy Hat was asleep face down in his food. Could you drown in peas? 

“The one wearing the cowboy hat, that’s Ace. Isn’t he just so fine?” Of course that was the one she liked. He was something alright. Etta was practically drooling. Ace was too. 

“Etta, as my only friend, I have to tell you-”

“Please please please please please please -”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea and I really don’t want to go on a double date with -”

“Please please please please please - I’ll take your shift tomorrow so you have two days off in a row! It’s the weekend too! Just come out with me tomorrow with these guys, please!”

You sighed. You didn’t want Etta to get herself killed, and two days off was very appealing during busy season. You could go camping overnight and see if the phoenix ever returned. 

“Fine. But we’re going on the popular trails and I will absolutely not be kissing any pirate. And you have to roll my silverware tonight.” You barely even cared who you were set up with so you didn't bother to ask. You'd find out tomorrow anyway.

“Thank you thank you thank you!!” Etta squealed and hugged you tightly. You gave a small smile, knowing you’d made your friend happy. And looking for beetles did actually sound like fun. Who knew pirates liked bugs?

[seat-safety-switch]

There's lots of perks to working at the ol' Pick-and-Pull, my favourite self-service junkyard of all. They won't let me get a job there, partially because I'm technically "legally barred from entry by release conditions." And also because my attorney has worked out a long-term disability deal that will evaporate if anyone sees me thinking about employment anywhere other than Long John Silver's, but that's neither here nor there. It's a pity, too, because the benefits afforded to the junkyard elite are choice.

For starters, you get your pick of the junk left inside cars when they're scrapped. Pocket change? Trendy travel mugs? Radar detectors? Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, friend. For whatever reason, cash-strapped folks desperately attempting to unload their last semi-durable asset often leave the detritus of their life within the confines of the vehicle, and all that cool stuff can be yours. Of course, you also get things like "hissing, vicious rodents" and the occasional biohazard, but that only serves to make the highs that much sweeter.

Not convinced? You looked like you drove a hard bargain when you walked in here. I respect that. Most folks hear "free Garfield window clings" and they're totally sold, but not you. Rare these days to have such a killer in my office for a negotiation such as this. Okay, how's this sound? You get to get on a first name basis with Raul, the taco truck operator.

Yes, I know that Marcel is his real name, but the public health nurse said that we shouldn't deliberately try to tell him. It will only force him further into his shell. Speaking of shells, he makes some bomb-ass barbacoa. Perhaps you've tried it? It's the perfect thing after a day of wrenching, or, in the case of the proud employees of the Pickin' and Pullin' Patrol, a day of data entry and trying to fend off douchebags pretending that a turbocharger ($50) is actually an alternator ($35.) And Marce- Raul - will cut you a good deal on whatever fell into the fryer. You'll take home more cash, and a full belly.

All this is not to mention the health benefit of working in the fresh outdoors, whenever you want. Sure, those outdoors are full of atmospheric hydrocarbons and whatever aerosolized microplastics are coming off the seat grinder, but office workers would give anything to get a chance at a crisp December morning like you'll be enjoying while desperately tourniquetting a suburban father-of-three who made a very bad choice about which muffler to cut.

Come on down to the Pick 'N' Pull employment office, and don't tell them I sent you. Long John Silver's has spies everywhere. A simple wink, nudge, and yawn-point to me wandering the yard will be enough to get my referral bonus.