#i needed someone to tell me this yesterday

[tinalbion]

'𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞' ||

Part 2 of 'The Sweetest Sin'

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x afab!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with plot, afab!reader, mutant!reader, unprotected p in v, outdoor sex, cowgirl, doggy style against the Honda Odessey, creampies, some possessive Logan, canon typical language, angst, feelings, talks of death, Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, Cassandra doing her little finger fun, domestic Logan and Wade, happy ending

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 9.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, Logan, and Wade are taken to an unknown hideout in the borderlands, and you find some unlikely help to take down Cassandra. There's definitely tension between you and Logan now, but you know there's something in him that can't deny that shot of getting back. Will anyone be able to convince him, and if so, what does that mean for you?

A few readers on Ao3 requested a part 2 to this and I wanted to make a part 2 SO badly! So here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

You didn't recall falling asleep in the back of the piece of garbage that was the Honda Odyssey, you didn't even remember Deadpool showing up and snuggling between you two as he passed out, waiting for one of you to wake up. Surprisingly, he didn't bother to wake either of you, not when it was clear you two just fucked your brains out in this God-forsaken vehicle. What a shame he hadn't been invited, but Wade was proud of his little Peanut for stepping up and being the big man, in more ways than one. 

As Deadpool slipped in between you two, somehow managing to make himself as comfortable as possible, none of you felt the car move, or drive away from its parked state, nor did you feel it when someone obviously picked all three of you up and took you into this strange place. 

You awoke to a strange room, discarded on a random bed in the middle of a strange building, looking as if it were any other apartment with several roommates. It was lived in, that was for sure, liquor bottles and beer cans were spread about the place. You looked around and couldn't imagine who would be here but all three of you had made it here, so that must have meant you found the people you needed to find. Or at least, they found you.

The three of you must have been thrown onto the same bed considering you woke up next to Deadpool, passed out, cuddled under a golden blanket, but there was no Logan. You looked around and saw him standing near a window, an open liquor bottle in his hand as he leaned against the wall, staring into the morning light.  A small smile played on your lips as you carefully pushed yourself off of the bed so as not to disturb Wade, and then you walked over toward Logan. 

He obviously heard you coming but didn't acknowledge you, not yet, he was still wallowing in self-pity as he drank away his feelings yet again. The vicious cycle continued. 

You stepped next to him and stared out the window for a moment, adjusting to being awake as you let out a yawn. “Any idea where we are?” You asked softly, your head turning to meet his. 

Logan shook his head. “Nope, but they're pretty well stocked, that's all that matters to me.” I scoffed and threw his head back, taking a large swig of Jim Beam.

With your hands fidgeting, he could tell you wanted to say something, probably about yesterday and what you two had done. He figured it was coming, and he'd thought about it for the while he'd been awake; he had every intention of remaining by your side, even if their timeline was going to shit and the X-Men were dead, he had you, he realized that now. 

“Go ahead and say what you wanna say, bub, may as well before the Mouth wakes up,” he grumbled softly. 

You chuckled at the nickname, finding it fitting for Wade, but you sighed and nodded. He was right, you weren't sure where this would end up for the both of you, so you had to say what you needed to say. 

“Logan, I know that you're probably wanting to forget yesterday ever happened, and I get it, but I never will. The fact still stands: I love you. Nothing's gonna change that, I don't care how bad you think you are, I see more than that.” 

Logan sighed and looked over at you, catching your gaze as you stared over at him, and his expression softened at the mere sight of you. How blind he'd been to your dedication, your love, your kindness… he wasn't used to being wanted anymore, he was used to being the town fuck up, the one everyone could sneer at and blame for their problems. 

“You really are somethin’ else,” he sighed and shook his head, not sure what to say to your words. “But I don't wanna forget yesterday, I just… I want to go back to our world and have it fixed. Then maybe… maybe I'd be worth your love for me.” He didn't look at you, his eyes stared out the window, the bottle still in hand. 

You sighed and stepped closer, your hand now resting gently on the back of his shoulder. “Logan, I–”

“Thor!” Wade gasped suddenly, pulling you both out of your conversation. He looked around in confusion and stared over at you both. “Oh, well lookie here, if it isn't the lovebirds.” 

You groaned at Wade and shook your head. “Don't start,” you warned. 

“Oh no, I'm not starting anything, I swear! Just wondering why it smelled a lot like sweat, bodily fluids, and regret in the back of that car,” he said, his tone chipper, knowing very well what happened in the back of that damn car. 

Logan turned toward him and glared at Wade but said nothing, you, on the other hand, let out an annoyed groan. “How about figuring out where we are instead of grilling me about what happened in the Honda?” You asked with a sharp tone. 

“And where’s the fun in that?!” He asked with a laugh that followed. “Come on, I mean, I normally don’t kiss and tell, but you sorta made it quite evident all over those seats. Was he any good, Baby Lee?” You could imagine the face he wore under that mask, the way he stared at you, expecting something out of his question, all you could do was laugh.

“Wade, shut up,” you huffed, but you gave him a face that indicated that Logan was in fact very good, and you hoped Logan didn’t see the face you made.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get all the juicy, wet, intimate details later.” Wade just laughed and looked around, checking the place out. “Well, do we know where we are?” He asked.

“No clue, but I like it here,” Logan replied gruffly as he held up the bottle for Wade to see. 

As soon as Wade was about to speak, there was a commotion coming from across the room as if someone was about to enter. You and Wade ran toward the door and got into a fighting stance, but the woman burst forth and immediately put Wade in his place as she easily flipped him over and held her sai sword to his throat as you backed off, raising your hands in surrender. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Deadpool gasped and held up a hand. He scrambled to his feet and stared at the woman, who seemed to retract her blade from his face, but she kept her eyes on him. She was dangerous, poised, and ready to strike if needed. 

You looked over at her in awe, admiring her, until someone else walked into the room, and the tension only picked up once he laid eyes on you both. His gaze was hidden under a pair of sunglasses, but that didn’t make his stare any less overwhelming. 

Then a small card flew through the air, glowing a hazy purple until a hand reached out and caught it. The man who stepped forward still seemed intimidating, but more boyish in nature, though your body relaxed slightly as it seemed they didn’t mean harm. All three of them stared at the three of you, and you couldn’t help but look back at Logan, who seemed slightly on edge by their presence. He lingered in the back near the rest of the liquor bottles, away from the crowd of people. 

“Okay… Look at you… all. You must be the others. Terrific.” Deadpool was unsure of who these people were, but after hearing about other survivors in the borderlands who worked against Cassandra, he had higher hopes. 

As they went down the line and introduced themselves, you remained in the middle, sticking close to Logan like a protective animal while you kept your attention to the new people ahead. Deadpool did a lot of the questioning, but whenever they spoke of taking on Cassandra, Logan always had something to say, and he would have rather spent his time wallowing away in here, surrounded by the booze. 

“You know, we never had a Wolverine up in here,” the card dealer called Gambit stated. But I can tell you now, it’s just a common courtesy to ask before you drink up all of my liquor.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck,” Logan replied and slowly lifted the bottle toward his lips. 

Before you could say anything to scold him in any way, Gambit chuckled to himself and with a quick snap of his wrist, threw one of the playing cards directly into the glass, causing the bottle to shatter. You took a step toward Logan, knowing he could have gotten angry if he let it get to him, but he tossed the broken bottle neck aside and grabbed another full bottle.

“Boo boo boo,” he said in a sing-song voice, smiling like the cocky son of a bitch he was.  

“Look, now that that’s settled, we came a long way to find you three-” Deadpool started.

“There’s four of us,” Elektra corrected. 

“Wait, is it Magneto?” Deadpool gasped, hoping and praying it was one of the strongest X-Men. “Dear sweet God in heaven, let it be Magneto, because with him-” Wade pressed his hands into a prayer and sighed. 

“He’s dead,” Blade said, completely deadpan.

“Fuck! Well, uh, who brought us here?” Deadpool asked, feeling a little more hopeless than three seconds ago.

A voice came from behind them all. “That would be me.” A slender figure came from the shadows of the staircase and descended, walking into the room, everyone was insanely quiet as she revealed herself. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Your eyes watched her, and you felt something familiar looking into her eyes. Deadpool, on the other hand, seemed almost speechless.

“Holy shit, Logan, that’s her, that’s X-23. She’s the one I told you about.”

You were there for that uncomfortable conversation yesterday, hearing how the Logan from Wade’s universe had sacrificed himself for this child, who they presumed to be his daughter, her genes taken from his DNA. Made in a lab. Experimented on. Like the other mutants you’d known, she wasn’t safe. But Logan had saved her and many other kids who grew up in that lab, giving them a fighting chance as he sacrificed himself, finally being granted the peace he probably wanted in that universe. 

The thought of it made your heart ache, imagining the scene unfolding, but you looked back at Logan and saw the conflict in his eyes, the intense look they both shared. You looked between the two and felt something you couldn’t quite place. 

The rest of the group began to talk about how they could get out of the Void and back home, all while you, X-23, and Logan had somewhat circled around one another, sticking to the back of the room. You looked at her and saw just how much of Logan was in her, it was almost a spitting image, and your stomach twisted.

Your attention was taken back by the group talking about getting through to Cassandra, and they wanted to get the ending they deserved, they would fight for the freedom they deserved. Deadpool had somehow convinced them to fight through Cassandra’s defenses, get to Juggernaut’s helmet, and get her to send them back. Deadpool laughed happily and looked back toward the three of you. 

“X-23, what’s it gonna be?!”

“The name’s Laura. Let’s fucking go.”

Deadpool clenched his fists together with glee and repeated: “Let’s fucking go.”

The group had all decided that they’d leave in the morning, whether they wanted your and Logan’s help or not, it was already set for them. They would get what they fought for or die trying. Logan had to commend them, even a little bit, they were brave. Stupid, but brave. As they all scattered a bit to come up with a plan, Laura lingered for a moment and stared at you, then at Logan, and then she walked off with the rest of them. 

When they all walked off, leaving you two alone in the room, Logan grumbled in annoyance and stalked off toward the exit. You called out for him to wait, but he didn’t listen, he was feeling confused and hated the way that Laura looked at him, like she knew him, like she had already formed an opinion about him. If she was smart, she’d stay away, but no one ever really did. All they did was complicate things, and bring him more pain and suffering, so he planned on getting blackout drunk alone.

Logan sat out by the fire as he held onto a bottle of Johnny Walker, his eyes glued to the embers, his mind miles away from everything. You figured since Wade was too busy with everything going on, he was distracted enough to give you enough time to talk to him alone since you’d been interrupted earlier. You took your time and waited to see if anyone would call out for you, thankfully they didn’t need you, so you stood up from one of the chairs near the poolside and walked toward the door as quietly as you could. 

Your steps weren’t muted in the slightest with the leaves crunching beneath your steps, but you stopped and hid behind one of the nearby trees as you saw Laura walking toward Logan already. You didn’t mean to intrude, but you also didn’t want to piss him off and bother him either.

He lifted his head to see Laura and waved his hand dismissively. “Hey, I’m not lookin’ for company. Get out of here.” He grumbled.

Laura laughed. “You remind me of him. Angry, drunk, mean-”

“Sounds like a great guy-” Logan interrupted.

“I wasn’t finished.” She looked back at the fire and stared at it for a moment, collecting her thoughts, and she wasn’t good with sharing them much like he wasn’t. “He showed up when it mattered the most. Couldn’t help it. You might not know it, but you’re a good man, Logan.” Her voice was soft but stern, telling him how she viewed him, no matter the universe, there was that strong belief she had that this Logan was no different.

Logan just chuckled and shook his head. “You might not know it, but apparently I’m the worst Logan.”

“I got to have a life because of you. I got to grow up because of you. A lot of kids did.”

“A lot of kids didn’t grow up because of me,” he retorted, his gaze still set on the fire before him. “Trust me, kid, I’m no hero.”

Laura sighed and looked back over at the man. “That suit says different.”

Logan looked down at the destroyed suit, the one he wore every single day beneath his clothes as a reminder of the pain he’d caused. “Yeah, ya like it? Scott used to beg me to wear it. So did Jean, Storm, Beast. All of ‘em. Wanted me to be part of the team. Told them they all looked fuckin’ ridiculous.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. “I couldn’t have them thinkin’ I wanted to be there. Then one day, I was off on my own, then the humans came and went mutant hunting.” His expression dropped, there was no longer sarcasm or disdain, but pain and sorrow.

“I can guess the rest,” Laura said softly.

You still stood behind the tree and listened closely to what Logan was saying, finally realizing that he was acknowledging what happened to you both, the losses you both took. You slowed your breathing so you could hear him properly, afraid that if you’d done anything to cause a distraction, you would never get to hear this again.

“No, no. Let… let me say it, I n- I need to say it.” Logan’s voice began to break, his eyes turned glassy and he felt the sting of tears welling in the corners of his eyes, but he stared ahead and recalled everything. “By the time I stumbled home shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead, every…” He paused, his voice wavering with pain, the dryness in his throat stung as he tried to come to terms with it all.  “This suit’s all I got to remind me of who they were. And what I did. And when I look at Star, it hurts because I see the disappointment, the hurt I caused…”

You tried not to cry too loudly as you leaned your body against the tree, you sighed softly, wiping away the falling tears as you finally heard Logan admit to it all out loud. When you were back home, he avoided talking about it like the plague, but having this young woman here who could very well be his daughter of sorts, looking at him like that, it made him want to open up. And that made you happy. It wasn’t opening up to you, but he was opening up, and that was something beautiful in itself. You let out another small sigh and closed your eyes as you leaned your head against the tree.

Logan sniffled but took another long swig of the drink in his hand and tried to steel himself once again. Laura looked over at him with understanding, she had witnessed pain in her Logan’s life as well, and she understood as well as he would. 

“We’re headed to Cassandra’s at sun up,” she finally said.

“Have fun” Logan huffed. “Not my fight.”

Laura leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as her gaze was intense. “We won’t pull this off without you.” She stood up in a swift motion and began her walk back to the hideout. 

Logan looked over at her and sighed. “Hey, whoever you think I am, you got the wrong guy.”

The young woman stopped and turned back to look at him, her face still reserved as she saw the shell of a man sitting in front of the fire. “You were always the wrong guy. Till you weren’t.” She turned back and made her way back to the hideout, leaving you and him alone once more. 

You waited for a few moments as he continued to sit by the fire, his eyes still glued to the flames that flickered and licked away at the firewood, and with a deep breath, you barely moved out from your spot when you heard Logan’s voice. 

“You can come sit down,” he said firmly. 

Shit. He knew you were there, this entire time, he knew. And just maybe… he finally confessed all of that to Laura because he knew you were there, you needed to hear it come from him, even if it was indirectly. Logan sat on the large log and continued to listen to your footsteps, he could even hear the sound of your heartbeat quickening as you got closer, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

As you sat down on the log beside him where Laura had been, you didn’t look over toward him yet, you continued to stare off at the fire until you felt it was right to speak, but even then you were unsure. “It wasn’t your fault, you know,” you said softly. “You may have felt as if you’d abandoned us, but, you didn’t. I know things are complicated for you, feelings and emotions, but I know you wouldn’t have let them all die on purpose. And I'm not disappointed in you, if I was, I wouldn't be here.”

Logan looked over at you and sighed, his hand still wrapped around that damned bottle as he just stared. “I heard them screamin’ for me, Star, as the mansion burned to the ground. They all screamed and I hid. I hid because-”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t cause it, you didn’t allow the humans to come in and do what they did. How would you have known?” You asked, swinging your body to face him, staring with intensity. “How were you supposed to know?”

“I should have known!” He spat in defense. “I should have and I didn’t! I could have, I dunno, sniffed them out and followed my gut instincts when I knew something was off. But instead, I got shit-faced and ignored it. Ignored them and you.” He hung his head, the bottle lowered, and he placed a hand over his face as he tried so desperately to keep the tears in. This wasn’t who he was, he needed to live with this guilt, he needed to live with it every day to ensure he’d never forget.

Your gaze softened as you scooted right next to him, then wrapped an arm around him as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Logan, you beat yourself up for it but just know, even in the end, they still cared about you. No one thought you were a bad guy, you’re not a bad guy, you’re in pain… and I hate seeing you in pain.” You sighed and closed your eyes, holding onto him with as much strength as you could muster as your hand rubbed comforting circles across his back. 

The edge he always had was breaking, the hardness from the anger he felt daily had been calming down thanks to you, and it was only for a moment that Logan finally allowed himself to sigh heavily as a few tears fell. You wouldn’t comment on it, you’d give him the time he needed to recuperate and pull himself back together like you always had, giving him the support and the space he needed. 

But you couldn’t stop your own tears from falling, ones not out of sadness, but out of acceptance. You heard that Logan confessed aloud how terrible he felt, how conflicted he’d been because of all of this, he wasn’t able to process the tragedy you’d both lived through so easily. It hurt you the most because you had to see the man you loved suffering, blaming himself, and adding more to his trauma. But you wanted to be there, you had to be there for him, to prove he deserved the good with all that bad, and as you’d told him in that car, you would be there every day if you had to to remind him of that. 

“I got you, Logan,” you whispered softly, smiling as your eyes remained closed and your arm tightened around him. “I’m glad I got to live, I’m glad I got to be here for you when no one else could be. And Wade, he doesn’t seem all that bad, either, he’s a lot like you in a way. He wants to help, deep down.” 

Logan scoffed and shook his head, almost offended by the comparison, but he didn’t respond, he just sat back and listened to you, your voice. It grounded him in moments like these now, and he was thankful he had that. After a while, Logan’s arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, his side pressed against yours as you both looked at the fire. He allowed himself this personal pleasure as he nuzzled against your hair, your scent making him think of the good days before it was all so fucked up, and it was peaceful. He hadn’t experienced peace in so long. 

“I hope you can forgive me,” he said softly, his lips pressed to your hair as he gently kissed you, his eyes still fixated on the flames. 

“I have nothing you need forgiveness for, Logan,” you replied. 

His arm tightened around you, your face pressed against the fabric of his damaged suit. He relished in the feeling of you in his arms, the way you fit so perfectly against him, the scent of your hair filled his senses as he closed his eyes momentarily. He exhaled as he reached up to slowly stroke your hair, playing with the locks between his fingers. 

“I hope they can forgive me,” he said sadly. “I think about that every day, wondering if they’d see how much it fucked me up, how bad I wanna take it back…”

“Oh, Logan, they wouldn’t blame you, okay? They would never blame you, they cared about you despite how you pushed them away, not wanting to hurt them, and you took care of them till the end. You can’t say it’s your fault when it wasn’t, it was the humans.” 

He sighed again and pulled your head closer, kissing your hair once more. “I know that I hurt you though, I know I hurt them, but I hurt you the most. The one person who I had a chance to show that I was more than what I thought I was, and I fucked it up. I took it all for granted…” He sighed heavily and tried to fight back the negativity, but it was sinking in again, but you caught on.

You sat up, pulling away from his grasp as you placed your hands on either side of his face. “Logan, stop, don’t do that. You were suffering, okay? And I get that, you weren’t used to people being there, treating you like you deserved. That’s why I stayed, I always saw you more than others may have thought. You were in need of someone to be there for you like you were there for others. Like Rogue, like Charles, you were there for them despite feeling you shouldn’t be. Let me be here for you, please, Logan.”

He sighed heavily and tried to accept your words, the emotion behind them tearing away at him, clawing through to the depths as he sat there with you looking at him as if he was the most important thing to ever exist in this timeline, and the next.

“I think we should try to get home,” you said softly as your hand came to rest on his chest. “We should help them get to Cassandra. We can’t run anymore, I’m tired of it, aren’t you?”

“I’m tired too, Star, tired of runnin’,” he mumbled as he placed the bottle down beside the log, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you in tightly. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, feeling the weight of his mind channeling through his embrace. He rested his head on top of yours as he sat there with you in his arms, wishing you both could go back and he could do things differently. His fingers gently massaged your scalp as he held you tight against him, stroking your hair and allowing his fingers to caress your head gently. 

“I know,” he replied gently, his voice low and husky. “You don’t have to.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing your face to his chest, feeling safe in the comfort of his arms as he held onto you, and you let out a small hum of contentment as you felt Logan allowing himself to feel what he wanted to feel instead of what he thought he deserved. “I don’t wanna let you go, Logan,” you whispered softly. 

Logan pulled away to look at you, his gaze locked with yours as he offered a ghost of a smile. He slowly reached out, his fingertips gently traced along your jawline, his touch sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Logan,” you said softly, “should we…?” You trailed off, the feeling of his fingers against your skin taking over your entire mind, causing you to lose your train of thought.

He noticed the way his touch affected you, the way you responded so well to a gesture so simple, it made a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as his eyes were still locked on yours. “I know, I know, but can you blame me? Especially after yesterday?” He asked, his fingertips still tracing your jawline, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. 

“What if they see us?” You asked him, not really believing that would stop either of you at this moment. The tension between you both was palpable, and he didn’t want to lose this feeling. You bit your lip in contemplation, trying to decide if you two would have enough time to get away with anything.  

“I know,” he said huskily, his voice strained with his own internal battle. “But you’re makin’ it damn near impossible to hold back when you’re lookin’ at me like that, princess.” Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he heard your heart beginning to beat faster within your chest, only signaling that you wanted it, too. 

You let out your own sigh and nodded, the blush creeping into your cheeks as your attention was now solely focused on him. “I can’t blame you, I feel the same right now…”

“Then why are we fightin’ this? If we really are gonna go after this bald chick, what if we end up stayin’ here or worse? You think I could forgive myself for not showin’ you just how much I need you?” One of his hands moved to your side, resting gently on your hip until his fingers dug into you. “I can’t fight the hold you got on me, doll. Give in to what we both want,” he murmured, his words a soft plea.

“Logan,” you sighed softly as you leaned in closer, thinking of all the ways you wanted him, all the ways you could show him just how much you loved him. Your eyes stared into his, half-lidded, filled with desire as you fought back to push him down right there.

The way you said his name like that, tinged with raw desire, it was all the encouragement he needed. Logan’s hand on your hip tightened further, and a guttural moan escaped his throat as he closed the remaining distance between you both, pressing his body against yours with a restraining need. He kissed you back with a fervor that surprised even him, his mouth devouring yours as his hands dug into your skin. 

Your breaths were short and fast, wanting nothing more than to taste him, to feel him, wanting to enjoy every moment you had with him before tomorrow. You couldn’t silence the soft groan you released against his lips as your hands reached up and tangled into his shorter hair, pulling on his gently while your tongues battled one another. 

Logan’s chest rumbled with a primal groan as you pulled at his hair, the feeling of your fingers buried in his locks sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He deepened the kiss, his tongue invaded your mouth as he claimed it with his own. 

He let out a frustrated growl as his hands gripped your sides, pulling you flush against his body as he made you straddle his waist, spreading your thighs wide open with his large hands. His eyes stared into yours, taking that moment to look deep within yours to make sure this was what you wanted, that he was what you wanted. He’d give you the opportunity to take it back if you wanted, even just that one day with him would have been enough for him to live off of. He leaned in, his lips brushed yours hesitantly. “You really want this?” He asked, checking one more time. 

You nodded in confirmation and pushed your lips against his, kissing him deeply to only signify your answer as his arms wrapped around you to pull you closer. He deepened the kiss between you both, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you moaned against his lips. His hands roamed across your back, settling at your backside as he pressed against you, showing you how hard he already was. He broke the kiss briefly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his voice hoarse with need. “Need you to take those off,” he instructed. 

You pulled away and shrugged out of your top, undoing the intricate latches and buttons, making sure each part of the uniform remained intact as you tossed it aside as Logan worked quickly on his. You were both impatient and wanted nothing more than to tear at each other, to feel each other in that closeness once more, feeling his hands and mouth on you in ways you’d only dreamed of. Once he was back on the log, his pants undone and slightly pulled down to accommodate you, he pulled you back into his lap while your soaked folds rubbed gently against him. Logan hissed through his teeth, his fingers dug into your hips as he encouraged your movements, coating his cock in your sweet juices as you ground your hips against his. 

“Yes, just like that,” he grumbled, his head leaned back with his eyes closed. 

You continued to rub yourself against him, slowly and gently pushing against him, almost having him slip inside of you to only then pull away. He was dripping with pre-cum as he twitched with every lost touch, he needed you and did not like how long he had to wait. 

His eyes rolled back and he let out a guttural groan as he felt the warmth of your wetness rubbing against him. “Fuck, I need you, no more teasin’,” he demanded, his voice strained as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips. “Please, sit on me.”

The moan you released was almost feral as you lifted your hips, slowly sliding down onto his cock, which caused you to groan out his name a little louder than intended. He was impatient and thrust deep inside of you, his hands slamming you down onto him. “Oh fuck, Logan, you’re gonna ruin me…”

His grip never loosened as he guided you up and down on his thick length. “Good, that’s the plan. Wanna ruin you for anyone else,” he growled possessively, his eyes locked onto yours. His pace quickened as he slammed you down onto him again and again, and it was funny that you thought you had any control here. 

Your body slumped forward as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body against his, your hands and breasts pressed tautly against his chest as you leaned your head against his shoulder. His hips fucked up into you, pulling out those sweet sounds he heard from you yesterday, smiling like a cocky bastard with every gasp and whine you released. He went on like this for ages, dragging it out, slowing his pace when he saw you were getting too lost in the moment, and he laughed at your faces when you got upset with his teasing.

After a while, he pulled you into a heated kiss, groaning against your lips as he playfully bit your bottom lip, swiping his tongue against yours as his hips continued to piston up into yours. You were soaked, his thighs covered in your slick as he felt his abdomen tightening. 

“Please, Logan- Coming soon!” You managed to say between each slap, his hips relentlessly pounding into you. 

“Look at me, wanna see your face.” 

You snapped your head up, your gaze locked onto him as you tried your best not to break the stare, but it was difficult to hold on when he was pounding into you mercilessly. His low grunts and growls mixed with your gasps and whines only made everything so much sweeter. His face contorted in pleasure as his thrusts became erratic as he buried himself deep and growled as he released. His entire body stiffened for a moment as he finally chased his release, filling you up as your walls milked every last drop. “Fuck,” he growled as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder. “

You continued to ride him until you had finally chased your release shortly after his, and your cries died down to soft moans as your hips gently slowed to a gentle grind, smiling as you nuzzled your face against his. You hummed softly and closed your eyes, cuddling on his chest as you both took a few moments to rest. 

“You okay?” he asked after a few moments, his eyes slightly opened to look at you. 

A smile spread across your face and you nodded. “Better than okay,” you sighed in reply. “You?”

He grinned and pressed a kiss against your forehead. “Also better than okay. Not ready to pull out yet,” he mumbled and shifted his hips upward once, causing you to moan softly at the feeling. 

“No one said you had to,” you replied with a smile, hugging him as you rested against him. 

Logan’s eyes opened and he looked down at your mess of hair. “Weren’t you just worried about them seein’ us?” He asked, teasing you now.

You scoffed and smiled as your eyes remained closed. “I think the only one I’m worried about is Wade,” you grumbled and shifted a little, pushing yourself off of him to look into his eyes. Your smile only grew as you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling that overwhelming sense of comfort wash over you. He was allowing himself to feel for you, he was slowly tearing down that wall, and he was becoming Logan again. “Are you gonna come with us tomorrow?” you asked in a whisper.

His face peeked up at yours, his eyes filled with uncertainty while he rubbed comforting circles against your back. “Look, I dunno, I mean, it’s not somethin’ I should be involved in…”

You sighed and rested your head against his shoulder. “Laura is right, you know. You are a good man, you’ll come through.”

Logan sighed and sat back with you wrapped in his arms, his softened length still buried inside of you, and here you were talking about all this complicated emotional shit. He looked past you, over your head at the building where the rest of them were, thinking of your words and Laura’s. If this was to happen, if he were to do this and fight alongside them, alongside you, then maybe he was worthy of wearing the suit. Logan leaned in, kissed the side of your head, and sighed again. “We’ll see,” he replied gently. “But first, I think I wanna have more of you.” He pulled back further to look down at you, smiling as you met his gaze. “Get up, put your hands on the car, princess.”

Your eyes widened as you pulled back to look at him. “On the car, huh?” You asked with a playful tone.

“Don't question me,” he said with a smile, bringing his hand down on your backside, and giving you a small slap. “Up.”

You huffed and slowly pulled off of him, smiling as you both stared at each other while you stood over him. Then, you made your way to the hood of the car, standing with your legs spread apart and hands splayed on the hood. You looked over your shoulder at him as he approached, half of his suit hanging off him. He stopped behind you, slowly pumping himself in his hand as he looked at your body. All of the curves, the dips, the way you reacted just for him, it drove him crazy. The fact he'd been missing out on this for so long had made him feel foolish, how could he have looked past this the entire time? 

Logan growled appreciatively at the sight of you bent over the Honda, your back arched and your hair hung over your face as you looked over at him. He ran his hands over your rear, squeezing gently before he parted your cheeks to reveal your back entrance and your dripping wet core. "So beautiful..."

"Mhm and all yours, Wolvie, now come on, don't make me wait, I need you." You hummed seductively, looking over your shoulder at him, your legs shaking with excitement. 

Logan's eyes met yours, filled with primal possession. "All mine..." He growled possessively. He lined himself up with your opening and slowly pushed inside, his hands gripping your hips for leverage while he took his time, gradually pushing deeper and deeper until he was fully sheathed inside you. He started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back inside you with a grunt. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you from behind with powerful thrusts while his hands never left your hips, holding you in place as he took you hard and fast. 

"Fuck, you're so tight... so fucking perfect..." Logan's grip on your hips tightened as he increased his pace, his movements became jerky and uncoordinated. “Tell me you’re gonna come, princess,” he gritted out, his voice strained with passion as he reached between you both and began to play with your clit. 

You could barely contain your cries and moans of pleasure, you were no longer afraid of being found out, you were too lost in the pleasure of it all. Your body shook and reacted so well to his touch, it was as if he’d navigated your body so well over the years that he knew which of your buttons to push. It was impressive, he had studied you, it seemed. Your head turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes lust-filled and hooded as you tried your best to speak between each hard thrust. “Logan, gonna come soon-” you cautioned. 

Logan let out a feral growl and buried his face in the back of your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle to hold you even closer as he rutted against your ass. He continued his assault as his hips bucked wildly, nearing his edge as he made sure you were close behind. “C’mon, pretty girl, I know you can give me another one,” he hummed against your neck, kissing it as one arm still clung around your middle, and the other played with your clit, already clenching against him. 

You couldn’t hold on anymore while his large fingers rubbed you so well, or the way he fucked into you as if his life depended on it, you came undone within moments. With a final few thrusts, Logan buried himself to the hilt and found his release, yours chasing soon after as he spilled himself inside of you, and growled low against your neck. His body convulsed with the aftershocks, his hips slowly ground against your ass as his arms tightly wound around your middle again. Your breathing was heavy, and your body was warm thanks to him, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Logan collapsed onto your back, his body heavy and languid as he nuzzled into your neck, still holding the majority of his weight so as not to crush you. His arms released your waist as he slowly withdrew from your body, allowing you a moment to adjust. You stood up and tried to regain your balance, your hand gripped onto Logan’s arm, smiling as he helped steady you until you were well off on your feet. 

Something inside of him awoken as he looked down at you, covered in sweat, smelled of smoke and his scent, looking up at him like you were… He was a fool, but you accepted him, every part of him, he was your fool. “Sorry, I’ve been so fuckin’ blind, Star,” he mumbled as he pulled you against him, wrapping his large arms around you as he placed a kiss on your forehead. This was the softest he’d ever been, he didn’t want any of the others to see, but you were worth getting caught for. Logan sighed and stood there with your face buried against his chest. 

“So, you coming with us?” You asked once more, your voice soft, and vulnerable, but you wanted to have him there with you.

“Don’t push it,” he warned, a playful edge to his tone. “C’mon, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

“So does that mean you’re coming back inside?” you asked with a smile. 

Logan shook his head and looked back at the car. “Think I’ll sleep out here for some peace and quiet.”

“Could I join you, then?”

How could he deny you? He smiled and nodded once, rolling his shoulders. “Since you asked so nicely,” he replied and kissed your head again, then walked over to hand you the top half of your outfit. He helped you get back into it and smiled down at you when he zipped up the front half, his hand lingering on you a little longer than usual, his eyes stared down and traced over your features, he just couldn’t believe he had reasons to look elsewhere when you were right here.

“What?” You finally asked with a smile on your lips, staring up at him curiously.

Logan just hummed and shook his head. “Nothin’, c’mon, let’s go and clean up.”

You turned from him first to walk back to the hideout, but you peeked over your shoulder at him, smiling wider as you held out your hand for him, waiting for him to take it. As he stared at you, thinking of all the things that he should have done, the look you gave him had wanted him to think about the future. To fight for a future if you were in it. So he slid his hand in yours, gripped it tight, and gave a gentle squeeze as he trailed along beside you as you both made your way inside as quietly as possible. 

The battle was exhaustive, you had fought alongside your new friends, making sure they were safe enough to get the package to them, and then you followed behind Wade and Logan to confront Cassandra. Wade was knocked out on the side of the room as Logan was stuck on all fours, Cassandra sticking her weird hate-filled fingers inside of Logan’s mind. His yells and guttural screams of torment caused you to panic until the bag flew into Wade’s hand as Laura disappeared from the window. 

You were frozen as you heard his yells, the echoes of the screams you heard from your friends as they pleaded for their lives, you felt the guilt Logan carried with him as you watched the scene unfolding, but the call from Wade snapped you out of your daze.

“Baby Lee, here!” He groaned as he slid the bag toward you, the heavy metal helmet hitting the side of your foot. 

You bent down and snatched it from the bag, then you ran up behind Cassandra as you plopped the large helmet over her head while Wade scrambled to your side, recovered from being knocked out, and held onto her tightly. You stood close by to ensure she remained in his grasp, and boy did she scream when she was pulled out of her little mind games. The large, dark veins within her skin pulsated, her eyes glazed over and turned red as she screamed. 

“You’re gonna send us home, or I’m gonna twist your fuckin’ head off!” Deadpool threatened, his arms wrapped around her as he also held the helmet in place. 

Cassandra just laughed. “I can’t send you home unless you get this thing off my head… And as soon as you do that, I’m going to boil your brains on an atomic level… Either you kill me or I kill you, both wonderful options.” She said as she patted Wade’s arm.

The boys began to argue back and forth on who would end up killing the woman, but after a moment of back and forth, as you stood by and grumbled at their theatrics, Pyro came in and shot Cassandra four times in the stomach, bringing her closer to death than the other two actually did. After Logan punched his lights out, the blood poured from her mouth and she stared up at Logan in shock as he looked at Wade.

“Hey, hey, if I take this helmet off, do you promise not to kill us?”

“I promise I’ll kill you first thing!” She gasped and looked at you and Logan, smiling as the blood dripped from her mouth. 

Logan sighed, looked at them, and demanded that he take the helmet off to the point where he yelled at Wade, demanding once again to remove it. “I am wearing this suit and that means a lot of things, but most of all, I’m an X-Man. And I know your brother. As much as I wanna kill you, every bone in my body wants to FUCKING kill you, he would not let me stand here and watch you die!”

He placed his hands on the helmet and sighed. “This is for him, this is for Charles.”

He appealed to Cassandra, speaking of Charles as you stood off to the side, your expression filled with sadness, hearing about the professor again, feeling that heartbreak again. You felt bad for the woman before you, you wished she could have had that love she craved, but you just wanted to get all three of you home and back to your worlds.

As Cassandra spared you all, she gave you a head start of four seconds to jump through the portal back to New York, and all three of you ran. You wished the best for your friends as they watched you from below, but you could feel the excitement pumping as you ran and took off, flying through the air beside Logan. 

Maybe you all had a shot at being happy again, this time, together.

You went for the last slice of pizza at the same time Wade did, and you both stared each other down as your hands rested on the box. It had been a few weeks while you and Logan lived with Wade and his roommate Althea, you and Logan still waiting on an application for your own place to go through. Al didn’t seem to mind and neither did Wade, in fact, he preferred if you two stayed, but you needed your own space. Besides, sharing beds wasn’t exactly what you’d call fun with a blind woman who snored like a chainsaw going off in a construction zone, and an ADHD-riddled bigmouth who seemed to talk in his sleep. So for now, you all shared your dinner nights together at the table, and you and Wade were having an intense stare-down.

“You know, Baby Lee, I should get the last piece because I ended up having to do the dishes because someone couldn’t keep it in their pants,” Wade began his argument, smiling with a raised eyebrow.

You stared at him deadpan and continued to hold your ground. “Then what about last week when I had to do them because someone ended up putting his suit in the washing machine and fucking up the whites in the load, so I had to fix everything?”

“Well, now that’s just not fair-”

“Wade, give her the damn slice,” Logan grumbled as he chugged a cold beer, glaring over at the merc. 

“Oh, now that’s just favoritism!” He retorted.  

You smirked as you leaned slightly against Logan, showing him you appreciated the backup, but your eyes never left Wade’s. “Yeah, Wade, give me the slice,” you said sarcastically. 

What you both didn’t seem to realize as you bickered, Blind Al had snatched the slice and ate it herself, giving a small bite of it to Dogpool, who sat eagerly on Al’s lap. You two didn’t seem to mind much as Logan chuckled to himself, looking over at Al as she chewed away at the cheesy goodness while your argument grew more competitive by the minute. 

By the time you figured it out, you looked over at Logan with a pout and back at Wade. “This is your fault,” you grumbled.

“My fault?! Look here, missy-” Wade huffed and threw an empty solo cup at you.

You gasped and looked at him with a shocked expression, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners. “Oh that’s it, Wilson, you’re dead!” You laughed and launched toward him as he bolted away from you. 

Dogpool made some silly yapping noises as Logan sighed and shook his head, finishing his beer, watching as the life in your eyes came back, it had been steadily returning since your first time with Logan. He noticed the little things that changed in you, and you noticed the changes in him, too. He sat back with a smile as you and Wade fought like children, sort of enjoying the life that surrounded him now, appreciating the ways he and Wade were alike, the way you took care of them both, and just happy with the fact that Logan had felt as if he’d found peace.

That night, you were snuggled against him as you always were, head resting against his chest as you clung to him, but he’d been awake just looking at you. He would stare down at you, brush your loose hairs away from your face as he saw just how peaceful you’d looked, the way you could sleep without having to worry or remain on edge. He felt the same too, he felt safe now, and with you here, there wasn’t anything in the way to stop him. With you here in his arms, he felt that all was right, he’d gotten the ending he wanted, and he felt that your friends would have wanted him to be happy in some capacity. 

You stirred slightly, blinking slowly as you stared up at Logan, meeting his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly.

His smile grew slightly and the corner of his mouth twitched. “No, I just was thinkin’ is all.”

You hummed in response and readjusted your body, looking up at him comfortably while you pulled the blanket up under your chin. “About what?”

“About how happy I am.”

“Happy, huh?” 

He chuckled and nodded, pulling you closer against his chest as his large arm wrapped around your back, his chin resting gently on your head. “As much as I thought this wasn’t possible like I wasn’t allowed to feel happy while the others… well, you know. But, I think it’s okay, this is okay…”

You smiled and closed your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat as you placed your hand against his chest. “Everything is gonna be okay, Logan. I know it is because you’re here, and Wade is here for us, too.” 

He scoffed and nuzzled against your hair, closing his eyes, and smiling as he inhaled your scent, the inviting smell of you mingling with his own. As he lay there with you in his arms on the air mattress, he thought that you were right about it despite him not wanting to admit it, everything would work out in the end. It had so far, all thanks to Wade fuckin’ Wilson. 

“That’s good enough for me,” Logan mumbled softly. 

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 7

This story is just coming right along. I've decided that it is split into three acts. The Arrangement, The Turn, and The Embrace. The first is about Steve adjusting to his new life. The second is thinking he needs to get out of the situation. And lastly the third is about finding acceptance and love with Eddie.

Yesterday for WIP Wednesday, I finished act 1. I figure if I pace this right, each act will be roughly ten chapters. But we'll see.

In this Eddie is sweet as always, Steve goes clothes shopping, and Chrissy misunderstands what Steve is trying to do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

~

Steve woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He looked at the clock on the nightstand blearily. It was a little after nine am.

The knocking began again and he got unsteadily to his feet and wandered over to the door. He opened it.

Behind the door was a porter. “My apologies for the rude awakening, sir. But this came for you, marked ‘Urgent’.”

In the porter’s hands was a small box. Steve nodded and took the box. He set it on the side table and grabbed his wallet. He tipped the porter and grunted his thanks before slamming the door.

He trotted back over to the bed and flopped face first back into his pillows.

The next time he awoke it was more naturally, and closer to 10:30am than 9am. He rolled over on his back with a sigh. He’d missed breakfast, but he didn’t mind. He was tired. Just the feeling of nothingness clung to his chest like a heavy blanket.

He sat up and spotted the box. He picked it up and padded over to the desk. He looked around it for a moment and to his delight he found a letter opener.

“Thank god, for fussy hotels,” he murmured as he used the letter opener to open the box. He set the letter opener down and then took the box over to the sofa. He loved comfy it was despite it being black in color.

He pulled at the packaging to reveal a pair of designer sunglasses. Steve smiled as he pulled it out. Eddie must have thought of it when he heard Steve’s message about his day. All the driving around he did.

He picked up the phone and called Eddie.

“Hey, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “Did you sleep well?”

“Nearly,” Steve said with a hint of smile in his tone. “I got this urgent package from this hot rich guy that the front desk just had to wake me up for.”

“Whoops!” Eddie said, chagrin. “I didn’t think it would get there until this afternoon, sweetheart.”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay, I was able to go right back to sleep. Even remembered to tip the porter.”

“All’s well that end’s well,” Eddie said softly.

They talked for a bit before Steve said, “Oh, I was meaning to ask you. I have something I wanted to send to you. Is there an address or something I can send it to, to make sure you get it?”

“Aww...little Canary,” Eddie teased back, “you don’t have to send me anything. I like buying you things.”

“Oh I know,” Steve replied. “But I think you’ll really get a kick out this one, though.”

“Sure thing, baby,” Eddie said. “I’ll talk to Chrissy and she’ll give you a call with the information. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect, Eddie,” Steve murmured.

“What are your plans for today?”

Steve licked his lips as he thought about it. “Probably some clothes shopping now that I have this fancy black card to splash around.”

Eddie laughed. “You do that, baby. Just tell me which stores you’re going to so I can make sure they’re warned ahead of time about the card. Places like that are super weird about new people coming in with that kind of cash.”

“Ooh...” Steve said with a grimace. “Yeah, I saw that happen once. This woman had won the lottery or something and she came into the shop when I was there with my mom. The sales woman was absolute horrid to her and chased her out. My mom threw the newspaper on the counter and walked out. The front page had the picture of the woman and her three million dollar prize check. It was one of the few times I ever saw my mom do something remotely nice like that.”

After they hung up, Steve got up grabbed the box of truffles. He took a couple out to the box to eat while he gather up his things for a shower. He thought about hitting the gym again, but he wasn’t sure if the pink bitch was still here and he wanted to avoid her like the plague. And while he knew he could swim instead, he decided to take the day off.

Yesterday had been rough and he wanted to do a little bit of retail therapy.

Steve got dressed in his most high end clothing he had and made his way out to his car. Which he knew would be another indicator that he had come from money. His new wallet was designer, just like his new sunglasses.

He primped in the mirror a little to make sure every hair was in place and then he gathered all his stuff and made for his car.

He pulled up to the row of boutiques his mother used to frequent before she started getting her clothes from Paris and Milan. Steve personally thought these places had better quality stuff, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

He walked into the first boutique and looked around. He kept his sunglasses on until one of the sales women came up to him. Then he lifted him and set them on top of his head. He smiled at her brightly.

“Welcome to Le Chique!” she said cheerily. “How can I help you today?” She was dressed smartly in a knee length pencil skirt and cream silk blouse. She wore high heeled pumps and had her hair pulled back into a tight bun.

“Hi,” Steve greeted back. “I’m just looking to update my wardrobe. Get a little more of an adult style.”

He could see the fucking dollar signs lit up behind her eyes. She clapped her hands together and rubbed them greedily.

“Right this way,” she said, waving her arm in front of her and Steve stepped forward, further into the store. “I’m Olivia and I’ll be happy to assist you today.”

Steve tried on so many clothes he thought his head was going to spin. But never once did Olivia falter. He finally got an updated look. It was similar to what he usually wore with the jeans and polos. But he also got button down shirts and tailored slacks and pants. Everything that fit went with him and everything else that needed to be tailored would be picked up by a PA of Eddie’s and brought to the hotel.

In fact when he got back to the hotel, the mysterious PA had struck again. On his bed was a large box. As he got closer he could see it was from the shop he was at earlier today.

He didn’t know what it could be. He had everything he wanted from the shop. He had even gotten help carrying all his bags up the hotel room by a couple of porters, both of whom Steve tipped well. He kept an eye on the package the whole time he took off the tags and put away his clothes in the dresser and closet.

Once Steve was done he walked over to the package a tad warily. He knew it had come from Eddie. There was no one else it could have come from. He undid the silk ribbon and pulled it off gently. He lifted the lid and set it to the side. He then moved the tissue paper out of the way.

Inside was the most beautiful cream colored suit he had ever seen. He opened the jacket touched the black silk lining. Sticking out of the pocket of the breast pocket was a note. He pulled it out. In the loopy handwriting of the sales woman were the words, “I wanted to get you something special. I hope you’ll wear this for me when I get back to Hawkins.”

Steve shook his head, smiling fondly. He walked over to the phone and called Eddie. He bounced on the bed as it rang through.

“Hey, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “How was your shopping trip?”

“It was marvelous,” Steve giggled. “Though if you want me calling you at times other then when you buy presents, you’re going to have slow up a bit. It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

Eddie laughed. “You got me there, hon. But I’m glad you like the suit. I wanted to surprise you with it. I when I called about the card earlier, I told them that once they got your measurements to set it aside.”

“How did it get here before I did?” Steve asked, twirling the cord around his finger.

“See, I knew you would have a lot of clothes and couldn’t carry it up yourself, so I just made sure to have my little elf slip in while you were dealing with the porters.”

“Sneaky!” he crowed. “I love it. I even bought the perfect shirt to go with it. It’s black and grey in kind of watercolor like stripes. Add a black pocket square and some nice shoes I bought and I’d be the talk of the town.”

“Well you’re already the talk of my world,” Eddie murmured, causing Steve to blush dark red. “Have you eaten yet, little Canary?”

Damn. Steve knew he had forgotten something.

“No...” he whined. “I just got so excited about shopping that it slipped my mind.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll have dinner sent up to you. I think you’ll really like their hamburgers.”

Steve smiled at that. He had gone out to Benny’s to get a good burger, and they had them here. “Sounds good.”

They talked for a little bit more before Eddie had to go so that he could order Steve dinner, so they said their goodbyes and hung up.

Steve decided to take a shower while he was waiting on his food. He gathered up his things including his new hair products he bought yesterday.

He got undressed and turned on the hot water, letting the steam fill the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked at every angle of his face and had to admit that he actually looked happy. And wasn’t that a fucking trip.

He had thought he was happy before all this. Yeah, sure his dad was a jerk and his mom was useless, but he had friends, money, a car. Hell, he even had a boyfriend in this backwater hick town.

And then it all fell apart.

He hated how all his friends scattered the second the chips were down. He hated how Tommy turned tail and didn’t even try to take Steve with him. He had no doubt that soon enough the town would be all a twitter about Tommy and Carol and how cute they were together.

It was all bullshit.

The only people that cared about him were the people that would get hurt the most by all this and Steve was determined to keep them out of it.

Just before he got into the shower, the phone rang.

He let out a sigh and went to go answer it. There were only three people who had his number, Eddie, Dustin, and Eddie’s manager, Chrissy. All people Steve didn’t want to leave hanging.

“Hello?” he greeted.

“Steve?” a cool female voice asked. “This is Chrissy, Corroded Coffin’s manager. I understand you wanted to send Eddie something?”

“Oh!” Steve cried. “Yes, thank you for getting back to me so soon. Yeah, it’s not very big, say about the size of a 3x5 picture frame?” He hurried over to the desk, dragging the phone and stretching its cord to the limit to pull out a pen and some hotel stationary.

She hummed. “It’s not, risque is it?”

He laughed. “What? No! It’s nothing like that I promise.”

“Okay,” Chrissy said skeptically. “We have people opening packages before they get sent to the band so don’t send anything you don’t want a total stranger to see.”

“I promise it will mean absolutely nothing to the poor soul that opens their mail,” he informed her, “but he will absolutely get a kick out of it.”

Steve could tell she was still leery about it, but he wasn’t going to ruin the surprise.

She let out a sigh. “Fine. Here’s the address to send it to.” She rattled off an address and Steve dutifully wrote it down. “By the time it gets there, they should be back in LA, so it’ll go to their main mail box.”

He wrote band PO Box over the address and underlined it. “Great, thanks.”

“Now do you need anything else that isn’t their personal information?” she huffed.

Steve winced, he could tell she wasn’t happy being Eddie’s errand girl and by extension, his.

“No,” he said, “Just that. It’s just a small token that I think he’d like.”

“All right,” she said. “Good evening.”

“Good evening!” he chirped back.

Once she had hung up, Steve shook his head. He knew it was her job to to look out for the band. But it wasn’t that big of deal. What she think she was going to do send his dirty panties to the guy?

Not!

He looked down at himself and sighed. He had carried that whole conversation completely naked. He padded back to the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

He stepped under the stream of water and let it soothe him. He was still smarting a little from Chrissy’s attitude. She seemed friendly enough at the bar and genuinely wanted to see Eddie and Steve hit it off.

But something between then and now she had completely soured on him. That was a problem for future Steve, though. Right now in this moment he was going to enjoy his shower, watch some TV and enjoy the burger Eddie was having sent up.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[moirindeclermont]

Happy Friday everyone!

Yesterday's episode of "all Polin's first times we didn't see " was about Colin being sick, so what happens when it's Pen being the one that needs to be taken care of?

Colin knows that Pen can curse. She also have used a couple of particularly creative ones either when they are in bed or in other occasions, but it's only when she is sick that he discovers the full range of curses she learned over the years and he is... Quite impressed. Even if mostly of those curses are against him for making her sick. He will kill anybody who might tell Pen this, but he finds that very cute. Like a small cat trying to hiss and stratch at tiger. Deadly but cute.

Also she hates being sick.

More like, she hates that her body betrayed her like that. She feels the loss of control and she has never dealt with that particularly well.

Yet, Colin knows she wants to be taken care of, so instead of assuming he knows better, he just asked her "what do you need?"

And, like a miracle, Pen deflated.

"At the moment, you," she answers and that's all Colin needed to hear.

He cuddles her for a while, then noticing she is almost asleep, he goes to stand but she is blocking him.

"You'll be here when I wake up?"

"Yes, my love. With your favorite soup, a couple of diaries to read and a human shape blanket."

She smiles and let him go.

As promised, when she wakes up, he is on the bed, a tray on the dresser with her soup and a couple of diaries.

"How do you feel, Pen?"

"Like someone used me to print the issues I write," she says honestly and he just hugs her.

"Eat something, then I'll read and maybe sing something for you?"

She would never turn down such an offer.

Later, when Colin is again cuddling her, he is giving light kisses onto her skin.

"What do you say, Love?"

She looks at him and nods, and he goes to explore her.

Normally, she is warm in her core. That night, it's like way hotter than usual.

Colin is very gentle, knowing she doesn't feel the best.

He uses the lightest of touch, but it seems like it's enough. She seems so receptive, moving with him and his fingers inside her.

It's an image he never gets tired of: her finding her pleasure knowing he is the one giving it to her.

Even when she is sick.

She looks at him, "don't ever think of going for a second round, I don't have the energy!" And he smiles, kissing her deeply.

"Rest my love, tomorrow you'll be better"

As he lays out next to her, hugging her to his chest, he can't help to think that he loves this woman beyond measure and reason. He kisses the top of her head, while she is already sleeping, using his chest as a pillow. He smiles as he drifts off to sleep too.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 18 . Heterogeneity (3)

a/n: my fav chapter is the one after this hehe, but y'all have to wait until wednesday (unless you're reading this after I already uploaded it lol)

tags: overprotective people around reader, sick reader, fluff overall

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist prev . next

_____ thought their headaches and worry would end when Cale woke up after 15 days. The healer is used to the rigorous schedule the commander has whenever he wakes up after fainting. Understand that there’s a lot to catch up on, especially this time since Cale was gone for so long.

Everything had been smooth sailing. There are still a lot of things to do at Mogoru but Jack and the others can handle it. 

Finding the Mercenary King was also easy. In fact, he was the one who showed himself in their inn. Making a deal with him was even easier. As well as getting to the Wind Island. 

“Uhm so you’re telling me the owner of my ancient power is not supposed to talk to me and tell me the race of every single being I encounter?”

“...At least yours don’t have full-blown conversations about bread with you.”

Well, there’s a discovery that Cale and _____ are odd. Apparently, you’re not supposed to hear voices when you have an ancient power…

But aside from that everything else is smooth sailing.

Things started going south when Cale entered Wind Island alone.

Day 1:

Everyone is relaxed albeit a little worried for the young master. However, everyone trusts that he will be fine as he always has been.

Day 2:

Same as yesterday. Everyone is doing their own thing while waiting for the young master. However, _____ thinks that the group is doting on them more than they used to. They aren’t sure though.

Day 3:

Cale is supposed to go back, but there’s not a single sign of him yet. This made everyone in the group tense. Nonetheless, all they can do is wait.

Day 5:

The ambience in the boat has become scary. Not surprising as Cale is 2 days late now. Everyone is still sweet in front of _____. In fact, they have definitely become more doting and protective towards the healer. 

Like they can’t even take a single step forward without someone trying to assist them or asking what they need. At first, it confused _____, but they figured they were probably acting that way because of Cale’s absence.

However, that’s just towards _____.

They are so snappy with Bud. The poor man can’t even take a single breath without being told off. The only time he isn’t getting scolded is when _____ is talking to him.

So _____ took this chance to get acquainted with the Mercenary King. The healer explained to the man how everyone was just on edge because they were worried about the young master.

Day 7:

It’s been 4 days since Cale was supposed to come back. Everyone had decided that if he still didn’t come back in a few hours then they would go to the island.

“Not _____-nim. Please stay here in the boat where it is safe. I promise to come back and bring back Cale-nim”

At this point _____ is used to the group coddling them. They figured it’d either end or dwindle once Cale came back. So they just let everyone be.

Meanwhile, the healer and Bud got acquainted pretty well. It helps that their abilities are similar to each other. Talking to each other is also mutually beneficial to the two. Bud gets to talk to the only person who’s not inherently vicious in the boat. While _____ gets a distraction from the abundance of worry they are feeling.

“I have to ask Medicus-nim, what’s you’re relationship with Cale?”

Bud once tried calling the healer by their first name… never again. The looks he got from everyone were not worth it.

Names aside, the mercenary king is curious about the relationship of the two. In his opinion, _____ is the most protected after Cale. There’s gotta be a reason why that is.

“Me and the young master are friends. However, I am technically working under his orders right now.”

It doesn’t look like that to Bud but sure.

In addition to that, the blue-haired man doesn’t miss the way everyone else softens while _____ is speaking about their relationship. Something is going on that these two young masters don’t know.

However, Bud doesn’t pry. Instead, he lets the conversation die there and opts to wait for Cale silently.

Sure enough, the redhead prevails as he always does.

He came out just before the group was about to attack the island. As soon as he got out he purified the island before desperately eating apple pies like his life depended on it.

“...Cale, you do know that you’re still going to faint right?”

_____ is currently beside Cale thanks to Raon’s floating spell. 

The man in question just ignored the healer and continued gobbling the pie.

“If you don’t stop eating you’re gonna faint with a soggy apple pie in your mouth.”

Munch

Munch

Cale continued ignoring _____.

“Everyone, the young master is going to faint with an apple pie in

3…

2…

1”

True enough Cale fainted like a machinery out of mana after _____’s countdown.

Meanwhile, the healer who’s borderline making fun of Cale could be seen giggling.

Bud doesn’t know why and his afraid Ron and Eruhaben are going to kill him if he asks.

Their way back to Bud’s hometown was quiet. Everyone seemed accustomed to this and already knew what to do with Ron leading everyone.

All of them got to work as soon as Cale was resting on a bed. 

Well almost everyone.

When _____ tried to go out to help Beacrox, Eruhaben just used his mana to steer the healer back into the room. Once the healer was back in, Ron wrapped a blanket around them before guiding them to a comfy couch that had been moved beside Cale’s bed[1].

“Wait I want to help too–”

Ron ignored the healer as if they didn’t even say anything.

“A bed big enough to fit the two of you would be better but this couch would also suffice.”

“Why am I lying down too? I didn’t even use my powers–”

At that moment the children spoke up.

“Lemonade gramps, I think kind _____ forgot that their body is weak!”

“That’s true nya! It also looks like they forgot they’re still healing!”

“Go lie down nya.”

It took _____ a moment to realise what the three were talking about.

“Are you guys talking about what happened in the Caro Kingdom? That’s like a month ago. That wound is all healed up.”

“Yes it has been a month since then but your healing journey has been stunted since you used your powers while we were at the Empire. In addition to that the sea breeze is cold. It’s not good for your weak body.”

“But Eruhaben-nim I’m really okay–”

All it took was one exasperated stare from Eruhaben to make the healer clam up and lie down on the spacious couch. After they did the golden dragon sighed as if he had just dealt with a toddler throwing a tantrum.

True enough _____ developed a fever just a few hours after that. Their body couldn’t handle both the weather and the stress so it decided to break down the moment the healer got to relax. Good thing the group was already expecting this and has prepared everything a sick person would have needed.

At some point _____ tried to argue that maybe they’ll get the kids sick. So they should just let the healer recover in another room and maybe check on them from time to time. However, the children averaging 9 years old retaliated by putting on masks and casting a shield. (A bit overboard in _____’s opinion but when has not Raon been overboard.)

Just like that the two young masters slept for three days.

If on one of those days Cale’s hand twitched and placed itself on top of _____’s hand, then no one said a word.

And if they see Cale continue to hold _____’s hand after he woke up first? No, they didn’t.

[1] if you can't visualize it, just imagine a big couch that's the same height as the bed and then it's side-by-side so the couch kind of looks like an extension of the bed. basically the two + the children are all sleeping beside one another lol

[not-goldy]

I think a lot of ship fights might be put to rest if Jungkook starts being more vocal about his relationship with the members.

Right now it's usually Tae and Jimin talking. Jimin actually reduced a lot now and Tae has just increased.

Jungkook can always speak more. Just more about regular things. Like I was out with Jimin, or I called Jimin or I ate with Jimin, you know basic things so Jimin doesn't get called a liar everytime coz JK never says anything to confirm.

Who's calling Jimin a liar???

Give me a lock of their hair☠

Also I don't think he's saying much these days either which to me is a very good thing. Silence is Golden.

On the part of Jungkook I see what you mean but I might have to respectfully disagree with you on this.

He tells and shows just as much. I mean had it not been for Jungkook we wouldn't know most of thr Jikook tea we know today. Their fights, Jimin staying up all night to browse the internet, them sharing a bed, Jungkook elbowing Jimin, their travel show, jikook stonewalling eachother etc

Jimin likes to talk about them but I feel he's very selective in the things he shares. While Kook doesn't have much of a filter so he'll share anything as and when the good and the bad and anything that leaves a lasting impact on him.

Eating Ramen on live- oh that reminds me of the Ramen Jimin and I ate yesterday. We were exercising at the gym last night. Proceeds to akiki over something random Jimin said and did when no one asked. Things like that.

Also, they are both triggered to share by different things. They both may share sometimes just to rub it in our faces. But for Jungkook it's usually when some members make it seem like they are more close to JM than him. He may not care what you or I think of their dynamic because we don't bother him much and he doesn't see us as a threat. Just a bunch of nuisance. However if there was someone present with them in a moment he felt threatened their dynamic he would get triggered sometimes.

Jimin cares about how you and I perceive their relationship. He is rarely bothered by the people around them- except for that one time with V where he felt he needed to assert himself. Even that I feel it was more because we were present on the live.

He cares about these things. So sometimes, sometimes, he likes to talk good about their relationship to us. And he likes to show off his man too. He gets giddy excited when Kook does things for him and he likes to share that too. He's more inclined to let us know he got the price you know, mah man treats me so well kinda shit. My man rich kinda shit. My man man man kinda shit.

Jungkook does this too. He just doesn't do it with words. He does it by bringing Jimin up every five seconds, forces us to watch ours and hours of Jimin content, and laughs all to himself while doing it🥴

They both whipped as fuck

And the fact he would follow Jimin around with a camera make him the focus of his attention zoom in on his face and lips-

He may not have to prove anything and he may not be questioned as much as Jimin is questioned because most times he comes with receipts.

I think what I all comes down to is people questions Jimin's assertions more than they do Jungkook's. Jimin gets called a liar when he shares more than Jungkook does.

I think it's the same for Taehyung. People question the intentions behind him showing off their dynamics more so than they would Jin Jungkook or any other member.

When Jungkook posts Jimin he is ship feeding. No one is assuming he is doing so to piss off certain groups of fans or to incite his shippers. When Tae does it, he is trying to incite his toxic shippers and to piss off jokers.

I think they may have contributed to these assumptions because time and again vmin are the members who frequently say they are taking pictures with Jungkook for "fans". So it stands to reason that people would assume they are fanning shipping flames when they post pictures with Jungkook or speak of their interactions with him

I won't lie to you, I have lost my train of thought 🥲

[wishcamper]

Nessian Week Day 6 - Legends & Destiny

Happy second to last day of @nessianweek! I have for you a Witcher!Cassian and sorceress!Nesta AU.

You can read here or on ao3!

Out of the Fog, Into the Mist

CW: consensual sexual content, reference to underage marriage and sex trafficking.

In the town of Mulbrydale, just north of the river near Hanged Man’s Tree, whispers rode the chill autumn air like restless ghosts. For weeks, the townsfolk held their breath as a dark shadow loomed over them: girls had begun to vanish. Four in total, all last seen in the gnarled woods at the fringes of their fields. And so a notice was put out on boards around Velen, that anyone who could find the girls (or the culprit) would eat and sleep well in any house, and could lay claim to a hefty sum.

It smelled like trouble, the sickly sweet of a body left long to rot, but Cassian needed the coin. And after four nights sleeping on the hard-ass ground of this war-ravaged cesspool, he wasn’t picky about how he got it.

“They go over the ridge to let the goats feed in the scrubs. Come sundown the goats come back, but not the girls,” the local innkeep explained, and Cassian saw the ripple of fear pass through him as he said it, the curl of his stooped shoulders.

“Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ignore the stink wafting off his new employer, though maybe he’d ceased to be nose-blind to himself. “So you want me to find what’s killing them.”

“Not killin’, Master Witcher - snatchin’.” The man’s voice was grave despite the lilting accent. “We’ve searched these wood a dozen times and found naught, not a bone. Tweren’t even no blood. Must be a fearsome thing to take them without a trace.”

He gave Cassian a look he’d seen a thousand times then, the furtive dart of a gaze that lingered on the cat-like yellow of his mutated eyes, the two swords at his back: steel for men, silver for monsters. He tried to ignore it, along with the rage that bubbled up at how common folk saw him, a beast barely better than those he slayed.

“And it’s only girls? No boys, too?”

The innkeep shook his head, leaned in to whisper, “The boys come home all dazed-like, remember nothin’. Except for Young Ian, but he were half mad already.”

Cassian sighed and considered the possibilities. There were the tragic but mundane - the girls got lost, or else ran off, ending up for the wolves either way. Then the tragic and unjust, that someone or something was abducting them: slavers, traffickers. It seemed less likely the cause was supernatural, though hags were known to have a penchant for young females, maybe a lesser vampire.

He didn’t relish any of the outcomes, if he was honest with himself. But he’d seen the lavish church at the end of the high street and knew there could be no drought of money in this town, despite the dilapidated dwellings. Crisis had a habit of making converts of even the most secular, and the people of Mulbrydale shed their coin for the Church of the Eternal Fire like the yellow birch leaves now littering their street.

“What did this Young Ian claim to see?” he asked, and the innkeep shrugged where he’d turned to wipe a grimy mug. Whether beast or bastard, Cassian figured the snatcher must have a stash spot nearby since none of the bodies had been found, or else there’d be tracks from a caravan or band of outlaws. 

“He says he saw a lady in the wood, the same day the last girl disappeared. Said she spoke to him day afore yesterday when he went lookin’ for his own sister, Abby. Didn’t find no trace of her, but came back babblin’ like a loon about how he met some Gray Lady. Blue eyes and hair spun of gold, he says.”

Instincts prickling, Cassian leaned closer across the grubby counter, trying to hide his voice below the din of other midday patrons who apparently had nothing better to do than drink. “Did he seem.. Out of it? Acted strange ever since?”

“Well he’s never been quite right, but he did turn down a sympathy romp with Marna over there when he came to tell the tale. Never afore he done that.” 

The aforementioned must’ve heard her name, for a dull-eyed woman rose her head from where it had been plastered to a scrubbed wood table and offered him a watery smile. The innkeep gave him a significant look, eyebrows raised.

The pieces were beginning to fall into place, an artist’s first pass of paint over a canvas. It definitely wasn’t wolves, and while he hadn’t ruled out some other creature it was clear this being was intelligent, enough to cover his own tracks. That left fewer options, all of them dangerous.

Cassian straightened, confident he’d wrung every bit of useful information out of the man, tossed his last few coppers on the counter before draining his ale.

“Thank you. Tell me where to find this Young Ian, and the families of the girls, and I’ll be on my way. And as for my fee..”

They haggled for a moment, and he managed to get the innkeep up a few more crowns, enough to see him through until he reached Oxenfurt. Once there he could rest a bit easier, in more comfort with the dearth of contracts in the city. Maybe even spring for a sympathy romp himself.

Cassian left his horse tethered outside the inn and made his way to the main street. Townsfolk froze in their churning and smithing and general idling to gawk at him, some spitting in his path or crossing themselves and mumbling prayers to the Eternal Fire. Even the reedy looking man in the pillory had the gall to sneer at him, but they were all reactions he’d endured for many years, and Cassian only sent his well-practiced curse to his parents for selling him off so young.

For it was a witcher’s lot in life to be both needed and reviled, a freak mutated with poisons to be stronger, faster, with keener senses and quicker healing. His kind were made, not born, though he might as well have been for all the choice he had in it. 

At the first three girls’ houses Cassian found similar scenes - weeping mothers, dull-eyed siblings, fathers crackling with impotent rage. And the same story thrice over: that their daughter walked over the ridge to the forest like she always did, and at sundown only the goats came home, no trace to be found. 

The tale was simple enough, but something snagged in the back of Cassian’s mind as he trudged up the lane toward the last house. Maybe it was that all the girls were near age thirteen, all described as both comely and disobedient by their fathers. The way the mothers cringed away from their husbands, the young boys in each house better nourished than their sisters.

Abby was the third girl who’d gone missing, who also happened to be the sister of the young man who’d claimed to see the phantom in the forest. Her former house was a sad little cottage of pitch and straw at the end of the lane, leaning drunkenly to one side from time and shoddy construction. Its owner leaned in much the same manner where he sat out front, propped up on a stool with a jug between his feet, dirt and sweat caked along his hairline.

Cassian cleared his throat and the man jolted upright at the sound, somehow startled even though Cassian was big enough to cast a shadow across him from several feet away.

“I hear your daughter’s gone missing,” Cassian bit out, already expecting no useful information. “And your son saw a woman in the woods. What can you tell me?”

The man hiccoughed and blinked up at him, weaving slightly though he was sitting still. “My Abby. She’s gone. The Gray Lady took ‘er.”

“What Gray Lady?”

“Ian seent her, my - hic - son. When he went lookin’ for his sister.” He gestured toward the forest and belched wetly, making Cassian take a step back. “Said he saw a figure in the woods before passing out, and when he woke this was - hic - in his pocket along with one of Abby’s hair - hic - ribbons.”   

The man nodded downward. Cassian looked closer now at the jug between his feet and saw a small flower sticking from the opening, an ordinary celandine. But the yellow petals shimmered in the light, strange, unearthly, and he felt his witcher’s medallion hum against his chest at the presence of magic.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It won’t die. The priest says it’s an omen from the Eternal Fire, that it marks the unnatural has - hic - taken ahold of her. That I gotta pay to have my home cleansed so the blight don’t spread to my others. But I think she sent it as a sign she’s still out there, that she needs me to come save her. Somethin’s not right in those woods, I’m tellin’ you. Somethin’ wicked snatched my girl, I feel it.”

Zealots and swindlers, all priests of that bloodthirsty religion, but Cassian couldn’t deny the wrongness that radiated from the flower, a clumsiness in how the magic wavered he couldn’t quite place. The girl’s father burst into pitiful tears then, and Cassian almost felt sorry for him, as much as he was capable of, anyway. 

“And it would take her of course, my Abby. Most beautiful girl in Velen. She was supposed to be - hic - married next month, you know. I knew one day some important man would come through and see her and have to take her for a wife. Offered a handsome sum, too. My girl. Knew she couldn’t have been born so pretty for - hic - nothin’.” He dissolved once more into weeping, mumbling to himself, a man lost in his own head.

Yet despite the way his voice trembled, something about his grief left a bad taste in Cassian’s mouth, like beer gone slightly off. And not because of the myth that witcher mutations robbed one of normal human emotions - he had more of those than this man was having coherent thoughts at present - but he seemed much sadder about the lost coin than his own flesh and blood.

After a few additional questions that got him nowhere, Cassian left the man cradling the flower, stroking it with one delicate finger and muttering about farm equipment that needed repairing. 

The mystery was starting to come together more clearly, though parts still felt obscured, a thick bank of fog blocking the places where it all connected. The flower was strange, the magic rudimentary, but Abby at least had reasons to run away, or perhaps a suitor uninterested in paying her father what he thought she was worth.

He trudged back up the lane, stomach growling.

With information from a street urchin he cajoled by letting her hold his sword, he soon found Young Ian hiding in the community stables. He could’ve been no older than twenty, sprawled in a pile of straw with one hand tugging hard at his fluffy hair, a ragged feather quill in the other. There was a piece of grubby parchment stretched over his knee, and Cassian wondered if the innkeep was right about his sanity when he saw line after line written and crossed out, fitful scribblings of an unsound mind. 

“Wanted to ask you some questions about the missing girls,” Cassian said gruffly, and the sandy-haired head whipped upwards, startled.

“I didn’t see nothin’,” he grumbled, muddy green eyes hazy. “Now git on with ye, I’m in the middle of somethin’.”

“Yes I can see that. Mind taking a break so we can both get on with our business?”

Ian bared his teeth to retort but seemed to catch himself, spotting Cassian’s leather armor, his twin swords. “Aye, you’re one o’ them witcher’s, ye are. I heard stories about ye. No feelings, none at all.”

“Thanks for your input. Now tell me about the woman you saw.”

“N-no, I didn’t see no-” Ian stammered, but Cassian felt his patience growing short. His belly was empty and so was his coin purse, and none of that would be remedied by debating his own emotional capacity.

“I don’t fucking care what you were doing out there, just tell me what you saw.”

“She told me not to tell.”

Beyond aggravated, Cassian felt his hand moving up to cast Axii before deciding to do so. Ian’s eyes instantly went glassy, his own will dampened, and he glanced out the stable door before leaning in close.

“I saw her,” he said, voice wavy with delight. The reverence that broke across his face crinkled the dirt at the corners of his eyes. “The Gray Lady. She was there in the woods, in naught but a robe, and she was the most beautiful -”

“This was a human woman?”

“Tweren’t nothing human about her, Sir Witcher, sir. She was - She -”

A faint buzzing sounded, and Cassian felt his medallion hum against his chest again. Something was preventing the young man from telling what he’d seen despite Axii’s influence, perhaps from remembering it altogether. He could read now the scribbled lines on the parchment - poetry, declarations of love to a golden-haired goddess. The gifts he’d lavish upon her, where he’d lick - 

With a groan, Cassian lumbered away from the young man, who returned moony-eyed to his musings with hardly a second glance. This job just kept getting worse.

It was too late to back out now, he reasoned, and he returned to the inn to wait for nightfall. And to stew over what the fuck he was going to do.

For this was no common trafficker or hag or even an incubus that took those girls, any of which would be preferable to what it probably was. It was most likely a creature more formidable than all others, against which he had a particular weakness. Cassian sharpened his silver sword while the townspeople descended into drunkenness that evening, trying to ignore the dread that had begun to coil in his stomach, wondering if the blade would even make a difference.

When the moon was a pale wisp on the horizon, he slipped out of the tavern and proceeded into the woods on foot, not trusting his horse to resist whatever tricks may lay in wait. The forest was dense and silent, quieter than it had any right to be, and he met none of the usual night creatures as he wound further between the trees. Cassian found himself holding his breath at intervals, the creeping feeling that he was treading somewhere he ought not go, pressing ahead in defiance. Perhaps in foolishness, too. 

Water sounded close by, the smell of wet earth and something sweeter, trunks thinning to indicate a glade ahead. The ground was softer here, and with his witcher’s sight he noticed a crisscross of small footprints in the mud, a scrap of flowery fabric snagged on a branch. A twist of magic drifted on the air, sharp and metallic, making his lip curl and his medallion shudder.

Yet at the same time his better sense begged to turn back, a thread tugged low in his gut, pulling him forward. With the blessing of vision in the dark, Cassian crept through the trees until he came at last to a starlit clearing.

A gray-robed figure stood in the pool of a silver waterfall, hood shrouding the details of her heart-shaped face. He could tell it was a woman from the contours of her body, from the long, golden-brown hair that swayed like reeds in the updrafts from the falls. Though he’d approached on silent footsteps, she turned in greeting like he’d come crashing through the brush, her full mouth bracketed with annoyance as if he’d kept her waiting.

Slender hands reached up to remove the hood, and the woman beneath was unlike he’d ever seen, tall and willowy, her face glowing like the moon. And those eyes - he could see why Ian was trying to put his passion to paper. They were the blue-gray of a winter sky reflected in his sword, smoldering like white-hot embers in the night. His empty stomach fell out then, for such unnatural beauty only graced one kind of creature.

A sorceress.

All around him plants rustled in a phantom breeze, giant tropical flowers, willows with branches that trailed in the clear pool at his feet. He could see silver-scaled fish flashing in the water, chiming where they brushed against one another, against her shapely legs. Legs he’d die to have wrapped around his waist, or crushing his head as he -

A tendril of magic wrapped about his throat, choking off his breath before he could shield himself. Cassian saw one elegant eyebrow raise when he didn’t pass out immediately, knew it was a trap but oh, what a trap to die in.

Fucking sorceresses.

“You seek the missing girls.”

Her voice was like liquid starlight, and he tried to stammer out an explanation but found only a dumb groan pouring from his throat. “Do you mind toning down your glamour?” he managed once he’d collected himself enough. “It’s giving me a headache.”

The woman’s brow furrowed, and he wondered if she expected him to fall to her feet as the village boy had. As many others had before, he suspected. 

But she relented, the intense aura around her dimming somewhat to reveal a woman more earthly, yet somehow more beautiful still. She had a severe look about her, her face all angles, and he couldn’t help how his eyes traced her lush body, more gorgeous than he’d seen in many long years. Not that it meant anything about her potential to rip him in half, though it certainly was an.. Obstacle.

“You know where they are,” he choked out.

She smiled, cloying, and the wind brought the scent of lilacs drifting toward him once more. “I take it you’ve come to rescue them from evil, brave knight.”

Her countenance was soft and inviting, but Cassian knew what wolves could live in pretty clothing. Knew the dangers in taking her kind’s word, drilled into him through experiences both vicarious and personal.

Don’t ever trust a fucking sorceress.

He should be better at learning from his mistakes by now.

“Where are they?”

“Safe.”

“And I’m supposed to take your word for it.”

He’d heard of crooked mages snatching girls to sell to the academies, earning commissions based on each student’s aptitude. In a dream world the law would put a stop to it, a fool’s dream given Velen had a skewed view of justice these days. But something about the woman before him gave him pause, a crispness in her manner that belied a stronger moral code. Mostly the fact she hadn’t killed him yet.

“What other choice do you have?” she said in her silvery voice, and a shudder threatened to steal through him.

“I could kill you.The families think some evil creature stole them. Want me to bring back its head.”

He knew it was a gamble, but he wanted to gauge her power, how much of a threat he posed to her. Her moonbright eyes darted toward his weapons - he saw genuine fear there, and Cassian wondered if he’d misjudged her before her expression melted back into smugness.

“Two swords. I should’ve known.” She wrinkled her delicate nose and gods, he wanted to kiss where the skin crinkled. “They’ve hired you to dispatch the monster, and here you are.”

“Tell me where the girls are and there’ll be none to kill.”

“Those zealots wouldn’t know a real monster if it were clawing at their hollow legs,” she muttered to herself before straightening. “Then it seems I must plead my case. Come. Let’s see if I can’t convince you to spare me.” 

She flashed that sensual, terrifying smile again and Cassian was half tempted to turn around and sprint away. Sorceresses were of a duplicitous ilk at best, abjectly cruel at worst, and whatever this one was doing out here on her own, the whole thing spelled trouble. He got the distinct impression she was concealing something, though what it was difficult to say. But when she extended a hand out toward him, Cassian couldn’t find it in himself to deny her, to think anything but whether its owner would let him press his lips to it, among other places. 

“Well?” she asked. “Are you coming in, or must we do this in the cold?”

She beckoned him forward before turning and walking straight through the waterfall. Cassian  followed dumbly on leaden legs, braced himself for the rush of chill water but was met with only a whisper of warm air, the scent of lilac and parchment dancing on the wind.

They emerged into a circular courtyard, surrounded on three sides by a stone villa tucked into a mountainside, archways leading to various chambers beyond. The remaining side stood open to the night air, the steep drop beyond, shadows shifting in the light of several braziers along the perimeter. His hostess looked different, too, her roughspun cloak transformed into a high-collared gown, the deep plum fabric spotless where it swept against the polished stone floor. A lush banquet was laid out before them, and even as his stomach growled Cassian knew this was a mistake, knew she already had her hooks in him and was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“Let’s have dinner before you decide to kill me.” Her smile was luminous and terrifying, and he swallowed in spite of himself. She gestured to a plush-cushioned seat at one end of the long table, draping herself in the one opposite. “Well, witcher. Have you the courage to drink for a sorceress’ cup?”

Along with her clothing, she’d transformed into an even smoother, more self-assured woman now they were in her bower, a spider biding time at the edge of her web. A goblet appeared before him when he eased into the chair, as if dropped out of thin air. The wine within was blood-red, and Cassian felt himself overcome with a thirst that he tried to resist.

“Depends.”

“On what?” She quirked her head to the side, amused.

“Whether I can be of some use to you.”

Her eyes flashed, and he thought saw something like his own hunger mirrored there, but it might’ve been a trick of the light.

“Oh I’m sure you can be very useful, Lord of Bloodshed.”

He balked when she used his nickname, the one he’d earned on the battlefield in the last Temerian rebellion. Her smile widened. 

“Let’s negotiate. You believe I’m involved in the girl’s disappearance. The villagers have asked you to come kill me, and offered you a certain amount of coin to do so.”

“That’s right.”

Cassian eased his swords off his back and set them against the table beside them. That she’d let him keep them would’ve been comforting to a novice, but he knew enough now to tell she wasn’t foolish. Just secure enough in her own power not to worry.

“So it would stand to reason that if I offer you the same amount of coin, you’d happily be on your way.”

It might not be an empty promise - along with the fine dishware on the table, all manner of gemstones and arcane artifacts cluttered the high shelves between the archways, any one of which would’ve doubled his commission.

“That would be true if I didn’t have a reputation to uphold. A witcher doesn’t skip out on a job without good reason.”

“Am I not a good enough reason?” she asked, fluttering her lashes. 

His eyes were immediately drawn to the supple curves of her breasts visible above the table. With great effort Cassian managed to keep his expression stony and shake his head. 

She huffed. 

“You’re a harder nut to crack than the rest. I don’t imagine threatening you out of it would work either. Oh, don’t get twisted about yourself,” she added when his hand moved automatically toward the hilt of his silver blade. “All that would happen is you’d break a lot of my things and then I’d have a great bloody mess to clean up. Truthfully I can’t be bothered.”

“You’re wasting my time, sweetheart,” he growled, patience waning. “Where are the girls?”

“Don’t be beastly,” she scoffed, disgusted, and Cassian bristled at her offense, at the accusation in her eyes. Here she was trying to lure him into a trap, bribe him from his duty, yet acted like she saw nothing but a brute across from her, just like the townspeople.

“Snatching children from their homes, I could argue you’re the beast. No better than a bog hag, bathing in blood to stay young.”

It was a low blow but he didn’t care, wanted to see her face twist with fury, relished the silver fire that sparked at her pale fingertips.

“Of the two of us at this table, who was crafted to kill?” she snarled, jumping to her feet to lean toward him, an accusing finger pointed at his heart. Rage pounded harder through his skull, and Cassian found himself on his feet too, fuming at her across the banquet table.

“Tell the truth for once in your crooked life, sweetheart. All this is an illusion. At the end of the day, you’re just like me. Blood and guts, bones and coin. Only you like to pretend the dirt doesn’t cling to your skirts.”

“The girls are never going home.” Her skirts whipped up in a sudden wind, a whirl of violet, lighting crackling overhead. “Tell the families they’re dead, bring back my head if you must. It will not change the facts.”

“Then you’re every inch the fucking monster you pretend not to be.”

He braced himself for her wrath, the wave of magic coming to steal his breath. But to his surprise she stilled, watched him for a moment, that same evaluating stare from the clearing. Something sad passed across her face, and Cassian felt like he could see through a chink in her armor, just a peek at the scared girl she’d likely once been.

“You think I look at you and see a brute. But I know you and I both have curses to bear. Doomed to live on the outskirts, worth just what we offer to others. I only wish for my freedom.”

An understanding passed between them, of two people stranded in an eternal no man’s land. For himself, Cassian had surrendered long ago to his fate straddling the fringes of society, helping people who smiled in his face and spat at his back. He’d tried living away from civilization altogether for a few decades but found it brutally lonely.

There were respites, of course, when he found favor with a noble or a woman who could tolerate him for more than a night, but he aged so much slower that eventually everything permanent proved it was not.

They both sat back down in unison, a truce. Cassian took a sip of wine, and her stormy blue eyes tracked the movement, a blush creeping across her chest.

“You could have both,” he observed, and she wrinkled that perfect nose again. “A sorceress like you could easily find home in a court. Why hide out in this shithole?”

“A boring, sad question with a boring, sad answer. You and I have more interesting things to discuss, I think.”

The hunger rose in her eyes once more, and he saw them rove over his body, pink tongue coming out to wet her lips. He chuckled. So this was the trap at the web’s center.

“You must be wanting for bed partners if you’ll have me, sweetheart.” An understatement given he’d been sleeping outside for a week, but his hostess stood after downing her own glass, waving a bored hand.

“Nothing a little water can’t fix.” 

She crossed to one of the archways and opened the door to a lush bathing chamber, the sunken pool steaming with fragrant water, lilac and sage. Cassian rose and followed, but he caught her arm on the threshold, heard her breath hitch when he pulled her body flush to his.

“I don’t make a habit of bedding women whose names I don’t know.”

“It’s Nesta,” she said, smiling, and the wind echoed her: Nesta Nesta Nesta.

He let her have her way with him the first time, knowing from experience she wouldn’t be satisfied until he was on his knees before her, where he belonged. She combed his hair while he recovered, and atop her silk sheets had her way with him again, only allowing him to explore her once she was wrung out and purring. Squeezed those lovely legs around his head and ceded the high ground at last, crying out beneath him as he took her as he’d wanted to from the beginning, hard and fast and desperate. Whimpered so sweetly when he kissed a line down her back and claimed her from behind, though they both knew who was in charge. He thought he might die from it, from her pressing back into him just as eagerly, the roundness of her hip in one of his hands, her pleasure in the other.

He brushed the hair from her forehead where she lay against his chest after, skin glistening under the soft blanket of the moon. Her bedchamber was cluttered with books, piles of them on the dresser, the small desk. A portrait of her and two other young women hung over the hearth, all with the same gold-brown hair.

Nesta flinched when he bent to kiss her soft cheek, just the smallest amount, that mortal eyes would likely miss. There was something heartbroken about her he couldn’t quite place, a loneliness even their coupling hadn’t remedied. Like she still expected to have to kill him.

Then light shifted in one of the archways, the air rippling, and he knew.

“They’re here.”

She hummed in annoyance and kept her eyes closed. “Don’t speak yet. You’re ruining this for me.”

“Tell me where they are.”

She pulled back and regarded him for a long moment, evaluating, and he tried to be whatever it was she was looking for, if only so she would keep looking.

Nesta nodded, having found it, and strode toward one of the archways wrapped in the blanket, drew back a curtain of air with a graceful sweep of her arm. A portal.

Inside lay a stone chamber filled with moonlight, a round table in the center carved with runes and littered with herbs and gemstones. Beyond a door on the far wall he could see rows of bunks built into the stone, the forms of children sleeping, their gentle snores carried to him on a lilac-scented wind.

“Are they here of their own will?”

“Somewhat.”

“So, no.”

“They are my pupils.”

“Some would call them hostages.”

She clenched her fists, incensed, and he saw the waves of power gather about her, Chaos begging for her touch. “What shall I do, leave them to be used as pawns by their families? Sold to wretched old men or wasting away in that cesspool? I’m giving them a way out.”

“And condemning them to walk alone in the process.”

“They deserve to decide their own fate.”

“And be like you? Hiding in the woods?”

“Do you pity me, witcher?” She was so close he could see the veins of magic in her eyes, as if her very blood was luminescent. “I may not have the splendor nor the influence of a court mage, but I am shackled to nothing but my own desires. Do you not seek the same?”

I seek nothing but a warm bed and a hot meal, he thought. But when he tried to say it, Cassian bit his tongue so hard he drew blood, and her eyes blazed brighter. He tried again and bit down even harder, the spell preventing the lie from passing his teeth.

“Do you not?” she repeated, and he heard the broken edge there, the plea. “When you sleep on the ground, do you not do so with a glad heart because it is ground you have chosen?”

“We’re all shackled to our fate, sweetheart. Trying to defy it only makes it come faster.”

Before Nesta could respond, there was a small cry from the bunk room and she rushed to attend to it, exposing her back to him without a second thought. Guilt leapt in his stomach, and Cassian couldn’t tear his eyes away as she comforted the girl, pulled the quilts back up over her and stroked her hair.

Feeling intrusive, he moved to don his trousers, and was just reaching for his shirt when she reappeared. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You weren’t wrong. About the solitude. Though it does help to have visitors, to pass the time.”

She trailed over to kiss him again and her mouth was sweet as Toussaint wine. They tumbled back to bed once more, slower this time, and he pretended not to see the shine of her tears in the starlight.

“One of your pupils sent something to her family. An everlasting flower. Gave them hope she’s still alive,” he panted when they were spent, having somehow ended up on the rug before the fire.

“Foolish girl. Her father was preparing to sell her to a traveling merchant. Thirteen years old.”

“One of them will go back one day. Bonds of family are strong. ”

“Not for us though, right?”

Cassian swallowed, knew it wasn’t worth bothering to refute her. His own family was likely long dead by now, and he didn’t even know where they were buried.

“You put yourself at risk doing this,” he warned, not wanting to touch that tender spot any longer. “You’ll have to stop or move on soon.”

“I don’t recall asking for advice.”

“Not advice. Concern.”

“I can take care of myself, witcher.” Nesta looked down from where she sat astride him now, smirking. “Haven’t you learned that by now?”

Cassian woke hours later at the edge of the waterfall’s pool, a spray of shimmering lilacs tucked in his pocket, sunrise just a few breaths off. Felt the ringing in his head as he plodded back through the woods, the fuzz of wine, the ghost of her fingers in his hair.

He didn’t bother thinking of a tall tale to appease the townsfolk, didn’t even consider stopping at the inn to finagle his commission. On the way out of town he passed Abby’s father sprawled stone drunk by his front gate. Clutched in his hand was the enchanted celadine, still glinting weakly.

Cassian made the sign for Igni and set the flower alight before kicking the man awake.

“Your daughter’s dead.”

He turned his back on the howls of despair, tucking his cloak tighter about him as he headed down the road toward Oxenfurt.

[princessoflalaland]

“i’m here, i always will be”

content: smut, angst(?) to comfort

toji wasnt unfamiliar with your stress relief habits. He’s known you for years, he knows what gets under your skin and how well you can handle certain situations.

when you first revealed to him that you wanted his help in relieving your stress, he was confused. How could he help? You quickly gave him his answer one night, tugging his pants and boxers down and easing him into your salivating mouth.

he really couldn’t believe how eager you were, pulling moan after pathetic yet sexy moan from as yo swallowed him whole. Once he’d came on your face, he picked you and threw on the couch. Collecting the slick that had pooled in your panties while you sucked him off, he lined his mushroom tip with your entrance.

“stop fuckin around, Fushiguro.” you huffed impatiently, earning a carnal groan from him. You reached behind you, spreading one of your cheeks to give him a better look at your pussy as it clenched around air.

with pleading eyes that contradicted your demanding tone, you said, “fuck me already!” Toji hated taking orders, especially from impatient, cock-hungry whores like his friend. You earned a sharp slap to your ass, a whimper of yours following his action.

“Keep rushin me and I leave without letting you cum.” That was his only warning. He spread you out deliciously as he sank his duck into your walls. You winced, not accustomed to his girth, but it wasn’t long before that pain bled into blinding pleasure.

“Shit.” He hissed, massaging the globes of your ass that were flush against his pelvis. “Tight as hell…”

he thrusted into you mercilessly, reveling in your keens of pleasure. his green eyes darkened as he watched your nails claw at the couch cushions.

“you were so bossy earlier,” he jeered, snatching you up by the nape so your moans weren’t muffled by the couch. “what happened? ‘s too much for you, ma?”

you didn’t respond, solely focused on how his tip continuously prodded at your g-spot and snatched any and all responses from your drooling mouth. there was another kind of bliss toji’s rough handling of you brought: silence. you couldn’t hear the thoughts that screamed endlessly in your skull, and even if you could, you couldn’t focus on them.

all there was was sweet silence and overwhelming pleasure.

“if y’won’t talk, i’ll make good use of that mouth then.” he says huskily, snaking his hand to your throat and harshly turning your head, sealing your lips in a deep kiss.

the moans and cries he swallowed made his cock throb, made him slow down just a bit to really feel your insides. “God,” he groaned, tongue dragging of yours. “taste so good, fuck.”

he shuddered, chuckling darkly as your walls spasmes around his girth, leaking your creamy orgasm onto him. “‘cummin’ from a kiss?” he breathed, pulling back to study your fucked out, sweaty face. “so cute.”

your eyes came into focus, and for a second toji saw desperation in them. only, this desperation wasn’t the sexual kind, but more fearful. he didn’t know what to make of your expression.

still trying to catch your breath, you uttered, “again.”

and that’s how it was for months. when the world around you became a bit too much, you’d call toji and he fuck the stress right out of you, however you want and however long you need. some days, two orgasms was enough to settle you down. as of late, though, you’ve been seeing him everyday for the past two weeks, fucking him late into the night to try and ease the strain life is putting on you.

toji had begun to worry. he was all for having sex with you as stress relief, in his eyes it was a win-win: he gets to fuck the woman he’s been quietly pining after while helping her destress. but now, watching you ride him to what would be your fourth orgasm and his third, he didn’t feel any pleasure. he never bothered asking what made you want this, want to fuck your worries away, he didn’t feel like it was place to question you.

but he couldn’t help but notice how your thighs shook with fatigue, sweat dripped off your nose and down your back, how your expression was more serious than orgastic, he knew something really wasn’t right.

“hey..” he said gruffly, his hold on your waist tightening. “hey, slow down.” his words fell on deaf ears.

you continued bouncing on him, panting with exhaustion. you still gripped his length like nothing he’s ever felt, but he would only feel good if you felt good. and it was apparent that you weren’t doing this to feel good anymore.

“baby.” he said a bit louder. his big hands tried to still your body. “baby, stop.”

“shut up.” you huffed. you weren’t looking at him, eyes zeroed in on a place on his chest. the vacant look in your eyes made his blood run cold.

“y/n, stop.” he slammed you down on his length, the impact and the way his tip stabbed your g-spot, startling you. you yelped, bringing your eyes to his finally.

“i can’t stop.” your voice wavered with what toji could only recognize as fear. what were you so afraid of? why did you want to keep going despite your obvious fatigue? “l-let’s keep going, i just need one more…”

toji flipped you onto the bed, his burly figure caging you against the mattress. he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and hollow enough for all the thoughts you hated to come flooding back in.

“tell me why.” toji demanded. your brows furrowed at his words. “why do you want to keep going?”

the room felt colder, maybe it was the sweat that collected on your skin now doing it’s job. you breathed fast and quick, feeling small underneath his searching gaze.

toji didn’t want to scare you, the was the last thing he wanted. he just wanted to know what you were so afraid of, why you kept fucking until there was almost nothing left in you.

“y/n.” he uttered softly. he brought his hand your cheek, wiping some of the sweat. “tell me what’s going on. please.”

this was what you dreaded the most. the moment he’d catch on and begin to worry, to ask. the moment where he’d force you to confront whatever plagues your mind. your heart thudded madly in your chest, mouth agape with words unspoken.

all you could muster was a jerky shake of your head. “it’s fine, i’m fine.” who were you fooling? not toji.

he sat back on his heels, perusing you. “that lie isn’t gonna work this time around.” he let his gaze wander down your body, a body he’d happily worship for the rest of his days.

“i know you only see me as an outlet for your stress, ‘n i’m okay wit that.” his eyes found yours, the earnestness in them silencing the thoughts that had regained their voice. “but, if you let me, i can be more to you. i wanna help you, baby.”

that was the last crack the dam could withstand. tears fell, one after another, down your cheeks. your bottom lip trembled fiercely. “it’s so much, toji. everything is just so much, and i just…i just want it to stop.”

he wrapped you in his big arms, ready to let everything that troubles you soak into in him through your tears. his embrace broke you down into sobs, to which he cooed encouragement and reassurance into your hair.

“you’ll be okay. it may not feel like it now, but you will be. give it time, baby.” his voice gets through to you despite how hard you were crying. they brought solace that even the sex didn’t bring. you began to think that maybe sex wasn’t what you needed. an ear to listen, someone to hold you and tell you you’ll get through this. . “im here, i always will be.”

[irradiated-cutie]

🩵 Spring Blues 🩵

(Cishet men DNI)

[agathazinha2009]

Revvit and Xee crushing for each other

Click-Clack is so me rn.

I don't know, Imagine Revvit and Xee in a relationship is kinda weird. Both are too equal, everybody knows it doens't work lol(I call Xee of female Revvit lmao).

I like the Idea Revvit only crushes on Xee(fast love "easy come, easy goes") but not truly love her.

And btw feels forced

Xee feels like a Not-gay character ngl.

[fennopunk]

Oh, you saw a cane user pick up their cane and run? That means they must be faking, right?!

Yeah, no, it does not. See, the thing is, you saw them running, but what you didn't saw was the mental calculations of if the run would be worth it, if the other option would be worse than the results of running for a short distance. And you didn't see what the consequences were, either. Maybe their joints will ache for days, maybe they lost all the spoons they had for the rest of the day or the run will come demanding payment in some other way.

And whether or not it was worth it for them, it's not your problem or your decision or your place to judge. So carry on and mind your own business.

[lewkwoodnco]

im sickkk :((( but at least im on the mend noww

[databent]

why the fuck is it that some people cant seem to acknowledge that people can just... be disabled. not through any fault of their own, not because something "happened" to them, just because, you know, sometimes people have disabilities. like, come on

[theflyingfeeling]

I don’t know if I’m just imagining things but I feel like Olli and Aleksi are actually so close 🥺 for example I feel like they post so many pics together and I know they post with others too and it’s not a big deal but e.g. Olli has posted 5 pics with someone else this year and 3 of them are with Aleksi.. so it must mean something right?? 🥺 and I feel like they spend a lot of time together yk even ”outside the band” when they’re having a day off and they still do music (the remix) etc. together 😭

Yeah I mean I for one am so deep in the Olli/Allu delulu land that it's VERY easy for me to agree and confirm all of this 😭 they're boyfriends secret lovers special friends and it shows 🥺

Here are all the pictures of the two of them I could find on Olli's IG, for reference 💞

+ the group picture Olli posted when Aleksi first joined the band, with the caption 'so now there's six of us' 🥺

[braceletofteeth]

reminder that if you're feeling pain you're allowed to take pain meds even if it's not unbearable

[halfdeadwallfly]

me when the group conversation is triggering a bunch of instrusive thoughts and he notices that i'm uncomfortable so he keeps trying to redirect the topic without drawing everyone's attention to me 💪🥳😭🥀💌🌬️☄️🪐⛈️👾🐛🙏💌

[multicolour-ink]

Definitely recommend Inside Out 2

This movie related to me so much more than the first. I'm so glad I saw it at just the right time in my life right now.

Context in tags 👇🏻