#i really did try to read these at some point but that turned out to be unrealistic for me

[inadaydream99]

How they respond after a kiss

A/N - just another random reaction that I got carried away with… especially Jeongin’s

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only.

Chan

“Quick, kiss me again. He’s coming back!”

Chan was barely able to catch his breath, let alone register your words, before you had pulled him in and smashed your lips against his once again. Not that he was ever going to refuse kissing you.

If someone had told you at the beginning of the night - heck or even an hour ago - that you’d end up kissing your best friend the way you currently are, you’d have laughed in their face. But as unforeseen events unfolded, Chan’s lips had come to your rescue.

You see, you’d been minding your own business at the bar, waiting to be served after offering to get the next round for your group of friends. It was busy and so you had begun occupying yourself with the soggy cardboard coaster that had been left on the bar top to wilt, tearing it into small sodden pieces until a staff member became available to attend to you. Until some overconfident - and clearly already pretty drunk - guy had decided that you needed to be chatted up by him.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan had been eyeing up the interaction from your table a short distance away, taking note of your standoffish body language. He was just waiting for the slightest indication from you before he stepped in… ah yeah, there it is.

“You good baby?” You flinched upon the hand that carefully landed on your shoulder, exhaling when you turn to find that it was only Chan. You don’t say a word, instead sending him your best “help me” look. And you’re relieved to see your best friend nod, having read your mind and clearly the situation at hand, before he gives a quick glance to the guy who’d been trying to chat you up.

You’d half expected Chan to calmly pretend to be your boyfriend and coerce the guy away. But instead you feel a finger tuck under your chin and, before you know it, his lips connecting with yours. It takes everything in you to keep your knees from buckling under you, having had all the air sucked out of your lungs. But luckily Chan feels you wobble and moves his hands to secure your waist before breaking the kiss to see if your unwanted admirer had left.

“All gone.” Chan smirks, feeling satisfied with his work. There’s not even a glimpse of embarrassment upon his features like you may have expected there to be - had you not been frozen in place like you are. The only thing that breaks you out of your swirling mind is the approaching face from before from just past Chan’s shoulder.

And that’s how you end up pulling him back in, smashing your lips into his and making out with you best friend, the drinks you’d initially set out to get long forgotten.

Minho

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because you wouldn’t shut up.” Minho rolls his eyes, like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Why else would he have kissed you? Because he wanted to? Pft. Yes, he actually did want to, but that’s besides to point because he also wanted to shut you up.

You’d been yammering on for what felt like an eternity and all your boyfriend wanted to do was rest after a long day of practice. Minho loves you, he really does, and he would usually let you talk to your hearts content without any complaint. But he’s spent all day with Hyunjin and Seungmin, both of whom had been in the most annoying moods Minho had had to endure for a long time. Even his threats of tissues and being put in the air fryer were ineffective. So by the end of the day, once he’d finally returned to his quiet room and you’d messaged to say you were on your way over, Minho finally felt like he was able to relax.

“That was uncalled for.” You grumble, more so to yourself but still loud enough that you knew Minho would be able to hear you.

“Which part?” Minho raises a brow in challenge. You stare each other down while he waits for you to dare answer him. “The kiss or the shutting up?” and then he has the audacity to smirk at you.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna go hang out with one of the others.” You make for the door, but are stopped by his hand grabbing your wrist. “Minho if you don’t let me go-”

Before you have a chance to utter any half-hearted threat to him, he’s spun you around and captured you in his hold. You frown up at him when you meet stern expression.

“Call me that again. I dare you.” You gulp. While your boyfriend clearly isn’t that mad at you (you know because if he was, he would have just let you leave and then proceeded to give you the silent treatment until you are practically begging him to acknowledge you), his stare makes you nervous. You think back to just before, how you knew he’d had a long day. And the guilt washes over you like a tidal wave because, although he’d tried to get you to be quiet, he’d only kissed you to do so…

“Min…” your voice is soft, almost a whisper, as your hand slowly raises to cup his cheek. “My love. I’m sorry. I know you’re tired and I should have let you rest… please let me go so you can have some quiet.” You hold his gaze until his eyes begin to soften and you feel his grip on your waist falter.

“I’m sorry too kitten.” He sighs, placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “But please stay with me. I don’t want to be without you.” You hug him tight in response, burying your head into his chest and wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, intending to never let him go. Eventually he manages to move you so you’re cuddling on his bed, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Changbin

The world around you seemed to slow the moment your lips met Changbin’s. It wasn’t planned, wasn’t something you had even been thinking about. Until suddenly, it was the only thing that made sense. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, froze in place as the warmth of the kiss lingered between you two.

Changbin blinked, wide-eyed, his expression a mix of surprise and something softer that you couldn’t quite put into words. Then, the corners of his lips slowly curled up into a shy, almost boyish grin. His hand, which had been frozen against your arm, finally moved, gently brushing up to cup your cheek. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his cheeks pink with a blush that matched the warmth in your own.

“Did that… really just happen?” he asked, his voice soft, almost disbelieving. There was a playful edge to his tone, but you could tell that he was being sincere.

You smiled, feeling a little embarrassed but also strangely at ease. “It did.”

“You know,” he began, his voice low but filled with warmth, “I was just thinking about how I wanted to do that.”

“You were?”

Changbin nodded, his grin growing wider, more confident now. “Yeah… but I didn’t know how to make the first move...”

You felt your heart swell at his words, the soft sincerity in his voice making the moment feel even more special.

“I didn’t want to wait any longer,” you admitted, the honesty coming easily in the quiet, intimate space between you. His smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet confidence. “Because I don’t think I want to wait any longer either.” His thumb gently traced along your cheek before pulling you in once again. This time the kiss wasn’t filled with hesitation or surprise. Instead, it was soft and full of warmth and when he pulled back, his cheeks were still pink, but his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.

Changbin chuckled, pulling you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you in that familiar, comforting way. As he held you close, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a soft blanket.

“I’m really glad it was you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and content.

You smiled into his chest, feeling the same warmth bloom in your heart. “Me too.”

Hyunjin

“You can’t just do that without warning me!”

Hyunjin hadn’t expected you to freak out so much. The delulu part of his mind had actually thought you’d react very differently to him kissing you. Like thanking him or instantly confessing your undying love for him. Most certainly not reprimanding him like you currently are…

“I thought it would be romantic!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperatedly explaining his reasoning. “You said you wanted a guy to, and I quote, “sweep you off your feet”. So that’s what I was trying to do.”

He’s not lying. You had said that only the day before. But you didn’t think he’d take your words so seriously and literally try to do just that barely 24 hours later.

“I wasn’t aware you’d actually do it.” You begin to laugh, the humour of the situation finally setting in. You can’t help the smile that breaks across your face or the laughter that just won’t stop tumbling past your lips. Even Hyunjin begins to join in after a moment. And the longer you allow his actions to sink in, the more you realise how flattered you actually are and how good his lips felt against yours…

The laughter slowly dissipates between you into silence, which you would feel the need to fill if you weren’t fixated onto Hyunjin’s lips. You can’t seem to pull your gaze away from them no matter how much you tell yourself you should and it’s not until Hyunjin breaks your daze by waving his hand in front of your face that you realise there’s no way of playing it off.

“What’s on your mind Pretty?” You gulp, finally taking in his knowing smirk. You know Hyunjin isn’t really looking for an answer, you’ve been caught red handed. And to top it off, he’s using the nickname that you have always protested him calling you…

It takes you another moment to gather the words into a coherent sentence, but once you’ve decided what you want to happen next, there’s no way you’re not going to tell him.

“Do it again.” You try to sound assured and confident in your choice, watching as Hyunjin’s devilish expression grows. He mutters a low “do what again?” to you, knowing fully well what you meant the first time. “Sweep me off my feet.” You assert.

The words have barely left your mouth when Hyunjin launches into action, scooping you into his arms and crashing his lips into yours. You can feel his smile as you allow him to deepen the kiss, your fingers reaching up to thread through his hair and giving it a little tug. You reluctantly break the kiss a second later, in much need of air, both of you staring into each other’s eyes knowing that you’re officially done for. You’ve been well and truly swept away.

Jisung

As you pulled away, you could still feel the softness of Jisung’s lips against yours, the warmth of his breath, and the slight tremble in his hands as they hovered uncertainly by your waist. His eyes were wide, surprise and wonder dancing in them as he stared at you, his lips slightly parted as if he was trying to form words but couldn’t quite find them. You could hear the distant sounds of the other members in the dorm, laughing and talking in the next room, and suddenly the closeness of the moment felt both exhilarating and a little dangerous.

The noise made Jisung blink, snapping out of his daze, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he looked at you, his hand instinctively moving to rub the back of his neck in that shy, awkward way you’d seen a hundred times before.

“You should go before someone sees,” he whispers, his voice a mix of nervous laughter and soft fondness. His eyes dart toward the door, and you can practically see his thoughts racing, imagining one of the members barging in and witnessing the whole thing.

Your heart skips a beat, the playful urgency of his words making you smile. “And what if I don’t want to go?”

Jisung’s cheeks flush a deep pink, as he quickly looks away, biting his lip to suppress a grin. He glances back at you, his eyes sparkling with a teasing glint, though you can tell he is still trying to calm the rapid beating of his own heart.

“I mean… we could stay here,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, “but if Hyunjin or Seungmin catch us, we’ll never hear the end of it.” His tone is light, but the way he looks at you makes your heart swell.

You laugh softly, stepping a little closer, feeling bolder now despite the playful warning. “Are you really that scared of them?”

Jisung’s expression turns mock-serious, though he can’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You don’t know what they’re capable of. The teasing? Endless.”

You giggle, the tension between you melting away into something light and easy, just like it always does with him. There is still that lingering warmth in his gaze, a softness in the way he looks at you that makes you feel like this moment is more than just a joke.

Before you can respond, jisung suddenly takes a step closer, closing the distance between you with a surprising tenderness. His fingers brush against your hand, hesitant at first, before slowly curling around it.

“I’m really glad you kissed me,” he whispers, reflecting on the week before when you finally caved in and made a move. Since then, it’s been a lot of kissing behind closed doors, neither of you wanting things to get out until you both felt ready.

Your heart flutters at the quiet sincerity in his tone, rendering you unable to speak. Upon this, his smile softens and his thumb gently rubs circles on the back of your hand. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away, the sounds of the dorm distant and unimportant. It’s just you and him, standing in the small space, the closeness between you comforting and safe. But then, the faint sound of footsteps from down the hall snaps you both back to reality. Jisung’s eyes widening as he quickly lets go of your hand before taking a step back. “Seriously, you should go before they see…”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh at how serious he suddenly looked, like getting caught would be the end of the world. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” You hold your hands up in surrender.

As you start to walk toward the door, you glance back at him. His gaze has followed you, his cheeks still a soft shade of pink, but his smile is wide and genuine. “See you next time,” you utter with a teasing smile.

Jisung chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “Next time, I’ll make sure we’re alone.”

Felix

“You, uh… you taste amazing,” Felix shyly gushes, his voice dropping into that familiar, deep tone, tinged with a hint of nervousness. His eyes flicker to yours as soon as the words leave his mouth, and he immediately bites his lip, as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “I mean, it’s just…” He stumbles over his words, looking down at the floor for a second before glancing back up at you through his lashes, his shy smile never leaving his face. “You taste like… strawberries or something. It’s really nice.”

Your stomach flips at how adorable he is, his usual confidence giving way to something much softer. “I was just eating strawberry candy before you came in,” you admit with a giggle, feeling your own cheeks flush. Felix’s eyes light up, his smile widening as he nods.

“That explains it.” He glances down at your lips again, his voice a bit quieter now, a little more thoughtful. “I like it.”

“You taste amazing too,” you tease lightly.

Felix’s eyes widen in surprise before a deep, rumbly laugh escapes him, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Oh, do I?” he asks, his voice filled with amusement and warmth now.

You grin, feeling more confident as you nod. “Yeah, like cinnamon… sweet and warm.”

Felix’s grin softens into something more tender, his hand finally resting gently on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. He looks at you like you are the most precious thing in the world, the playful teasing fading into a quiet moment that felt just as sweet as the kiss had been.

For a moment, neither of you say anything, just standing there in the comfortable silence, enjoying the closeness. Then, with a soft chuckle, Felix leans in slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Maybe next time, I’ll bring some strawberry candy too,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

“Next time?” you ask, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Felix grins, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous glint. “Yeah. I think we’re going to need a lot of next times.” And with that, he leans in, kissing you again, just as soft and sweet as the first time, but this time with the promise of many more to come.

Seungmin

The kiss was soft and warm, full of the familiar comfort you’d come to love about your arrangement with Seungmin. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the quiet hum of the room and the warmth of his body pressing against yours making everything feel right. But then, suddenly, Seungmin pulled back, his lips parting from yours with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His expression oddly calm, as if he’d just paused a moment to consider something.

“Why’d you stop?” you ask, still feeling the tingle of his kiss on your lips.

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a playful grin. “Because you weren’t responding.”

You frown, your brows knitting together in confusion. “But… I was?”

The amusement in Seungmin’s eyes only grows upon your reaction. “You’re saying that your lips were moving against mine? That I wasn’t doing all the work?”

His teasing tone makes you want to roll your eyes, but you hold back, knowing that doing so would only encourage him to be more infuriating. Instead, you try to keep your composure, even though you can feel a hint of annoyance bubbling up inside you.

Your agreement is simple: kisses whenever you both want, without the baggage of a relationship. It works well, and Seungmin’s kisses are, without a doubt, addictive. His lips are soft and plush, making every touch a sweet temptation.

“Pup, I put my tongue in your mouth and you froze,” Seungmin states, his voice dripping with condescension as he watches you mumble “You didn’t warn me.”

You shoot him a sulky look, trying to hide how his teasing is making you really feel. Seungmin’s eyes soften as he takes in your pouty expression, and a warm chuckle escapes him. “You look so cute when you sulk,” he continues to tease.

Ever since you’d struck up this kissing deal, Seungmin had found it hard to imagine why he hadn’t made a move sooner. Everything about you felt so right, your laugh, your smile, the way your lips fit against his… He couldn’t help but feel drawn to you, and it was becoming harder to keep things just as simple as you both had agreed upon.

“Just come back here and we’ll pick up from where we left off, okay?” Seungmin holds his hand out to you, his smile affectionate and warm, a silent promise of more to come. It was the kind of smile that made it impossible for you to say no. With a shy smile of your own, you take his hand, letting him pull you back against him. His warmth envelops you, your lips just close enough to feel his hot breath. The anticipation makes your heart race as your noses brush together; the closeness making every small touch feel electric.

“You ready?” Seungmin asks softly, his eyes locked onto yours with an earnestness that makes your pulse quicken.

“Ready,” you whisper back, leaning in closer. This time, as his tongue seeks entrance into your mouth, you accept it without hesitation. The kiss deepens and you feel a shiver of delight run through you as Seungmin’s arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer.

When you finally brake apart, both of you breathless and smiling, Seungmin’s eyes are filled with a satisfied glow. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

Seungmin grins, the mischievous glint still dancing in his eyes. “Good. Because I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

You can’t help but smile, leaning in for another kiss, your lips meeting his with the same warmth and affection. It was clear that, despite the teasing and the occasional annoyance, Seungmin was exactly where he wanted to be. With you.

Jeongin

So, you’d accidentally kissed the bane of your existence, and now he wouldn’t let you forget it. You weren’t sure how it had happened. One minute, you were squabbling like usual, the same old playful back-and-forth that always seemed to erupt between you two whenever you were in the same room. Jeongin had made some sarcastic comment, flashing that signature smug grin of his, and you, frustrated and flustered, had turned sharply, and somehow… your lips had met. It was brief, barely a second, but the impact was enough to knock the air out of your lungs. And Jeongin, of course, had the audacity to just stare at you, completely unfazed, his eyes wide but sparkling with amusement, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. It was a complete accident, but try telling that to Jeongin.

Now, here you are days later, still reeling from the embarrassment while he seemed to be living his best life. Jeongin, famously sweet and adored by practically everyone, was one of the few people you couldn’t stand. He was annoyingly charming, effortlessly liked by everyone and always had this expectant attitude, like he knew you’d give in to him eventually. And now he had this to hold over your head. You glared at him across the room as he lounged casually on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his expression far too relaxed for someone who had been driving you up the wall for days.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Still thinking about it, huh?”

You shoot him a sharp glare, hoping the heat creeping up your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels. “I am not thinking about it.” You force a response through gritted teeth.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’re definitely thinking about it.” His grin widens, that infuriatingly smug look returning to his face. “I mean, it’s understandable. I’d probably be thinking about it too if I were you.”

You groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. “Jeongin, I swear, if you bring it up one more time—”

“What? You gonna kiss me again?” he teases, sitting up a little straighter, his eyes sparkling mischievously. Your face flames at the memory, and you clench your fists, trying to maintain what little dignity you have left.

“It was an accident.”

Jeongin’s grin softens, but the teasing glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you…”

You groan again, pressing your palms to your face. This is torture. Absolute torture. “Why do you insist on making everything so difficult?”

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression softening just a little. “Difficult? Or interesting?” He chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that somehow makes your stomach do a little flip. “You just make it so easy to mess with you. You get all worked up over the smallest things.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly as he studies you. “Maybe that’s why I like teasing you so much.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. His smugness is still there, but you’re sure you see a glimmer of something else, too. Something softer, almost playful in a way that wasn’t designed just to get under your skin. “I don’t know how anyone puts up with you,” you mutter, though the bite in your words is far less sharp than usual.

“Well, my friends think I’m charming,” he smirks triumphantly. “They all see me as their younger brother. Innocent, adorable… maybe you should start seeing me that way too.”

You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. “You? A younger brother? Absolutely not.”

Jeongin’s eyes light up, his grin widening. “What, so you see me as something else then?”

Your eyes narrow, heart racing as you realise how your words had played right into his hands. “Don’t twist my words.”

But Jeongin isn’t about to let this go. He leans back against the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Too late. I’m twisting them.” You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he is delusional, but the words die in your throat as you see the look in his eyes. His teasing smile has softened into something gentler, his gaze steady and, for once, not filled with mischief. The silence stretches out between you, and you suddenly feel the weight of what had happened a few days ago settle over you again. The accidental kiss. The way he’d looked at you afterward, surprised but not… upset. Like he hadn’t minded it at all.

Your heart thuds in your chest as you meet his gaze. “Why are you doing this?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

Jeongin tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “Because you’re fun to be around.” He pauses, his lips quirking up in a half-smile. “And because I like seeing that look on your face.”

You blink, startled by his honesty. “What look?”

“That look,” he speaks softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “The one where you’re actually thinking about me, and not as if you hate me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the heat rising in your cheeks again. You can’t believe it. The bane of your existence is actually saying something sweet. And the worst part? It isn’t annoying anymore. It’s making your heart race in a way you would never expect.

“I don’t hate you,” you mutter, looking away, embarrassed by how vulnerable you suddenly feel.

Jeongin’s voice softens even more, and he leans closer, his words a gentle murmur. “I know. And I don’t hate you either… but I’m still not going to let you forget that kiss.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands again. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” he playfully shrugs. “But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t remind you every day.”

You peek through your fingers at him, rolling your eyes even though you’re unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “You really won’t let me live this down, will you?”

“Not a chance.”

[flowerfreya]

The Office AU

part 17 - Poly!141 The men are trying to show reader that they like , but she has some issues reading the signs Pairing: poly!141 x reader

There has been a lot of causal touching. That you are starting to slowly freak you out. 

Everytime John calls you into his office to ask for a really simple and almost down right disrespectful task that he is asking for you to do. 

“Hey bird, need your help for something”, John calls to you , leaning against the doorway in his office. 

“Sure, let me just find a stopping point”, you could stop at any point but just wanted to seem like you were doing something, not because you aren't doing anything but because you always finish your work early in the day. Standing up and walking over to his office , he puts his hand on your lower back as you walk in, it has you stiffening up and developing a little sweat on your hands. You don’t know what he means when he touches you like this. 

Is he doing it on purpose? 

Does he always touch women like this or just you? 

Does he like me ? 

“Can’t figure out the printer again”, he says, a little too shameful. Considering you’ve shown him how to do this a couple of times already and he just seems to not be getting it. You go over the steps again , sitting down in his chair and you swivel around to him to see if he’s got it. 

“Does that make sense”, you ask him. Look up at him. He then crowds your space and points to the screen and asks a question but you miss it because all you can do is feel his body heat. 

He’s standing right behind you leaning over, which puts some weight on his body on your shoulder. 

You breathe in long and hard and swear you can smell his deodorant and a little of his natural body musk. 

You want to have an oxygen mask of just that scent and only have that survive. 

He brings you out of the haze when he lays his hand on you shoulder, “think I got it, hen” 

“Got what”, you ask. 

“Seems like it printed”, he says, then points to the door frame where Gaz is standing holding what looks to be about 20 copies of some order form. 

“Oh”, you let out quietly, standing up from his chair , “let me know if you need anything else”, you say as you walk out. Going immediately to the bathroom and re applying some powder because you know you are shiny after going through that tortuous 20 minutes. 

You do your nails almost every two weeks. Since you do it yourself it takes forever and you always had a design or too and you’ve been getting better at it. 

So when Soap grabs both of hands and stares at your nails, you forget that you did themand the only thought that is going through your head is that his hands are soft. 

“This look right good," he says , leaning on your desk and bringing your hands closer to his face. 

“Yer did it yourself?”, he ask and you know it takes a second to answer him but he’s still holding your hands and it’s kinda hard to focus. 

You answer and it gets you excited about your nails. You're super proud of them. 

Then god damn him , he starts giving your hands a massage. 

You were not prepared for that, letting out a quick but low moan. 

It has Soap stopping what he’s doing , giving your a little smirk , “feel good?”. 

“J-just surprised me is all”, it did feel good but you didn’t want him to know that, you don’t even know how he feels about you. 

He still flirts with everyone that comes in this office. And he’s playful. Maybe a bit too playful. You’ve done playful before and that just turn into taking care of all the important stuff because “your better at that stuff” and whole bunch of resentment. 

Pulling your hands away slowly , you thank him for the compliments and start to open your yogurt that doubles as your breakfast. As he walks away, “that yogurt is expired”, he says. Which has you looking down and you see the expiration date of two days ago. 

[meazalykov]

the forest

salma paralluelo x orienteer!reader (request)

summary: your girlfriend tries to understand the sport you participate in

salma is a bit confused when you first invite her to watch one of your orienteering competitions live. 

she’s seen a few races on tv, but never in person, and you can tell by the way she fidgets with her hands that she’s nervous, even if she won’t admit it.

“are you sure you are not just going to get lost in the woods?” she jokes when you’re explaining how it works, but there’s a hint of genuine concern in her voice.

“i will be fine,” you laugh, kissing her before heading to the starting area. 

“i’ll see you after i win, okay?”

she watches you run off with the rest of the competitors, map and compass in hand, disappearing into the forest within seconds. and for the first time, salma realizes she has no idea what’s actually happening. 

she looks around at the other spectators, all of them more prepared than her with binoculars, and GPS trackers to follow the competitors’ progress.

“what am i even supposed to be looking at?” she mumbles to herself, squinting at the forest.

in her mind, she wished that she brought esmee or alexia with her– just for some company.

“you’re here for y/n, right?”

salma turns to see a girl standing next to her, probably in her late teens, sporting a y/n fan t-shirt. her eyes are wide and excited, and salma smiles awkwardly, hoping this girl can help.

“yeah… how’d you know?”

“well, you looked super confused. that’s usually how people are when they come to watch y/n for the first time,” the girl says, a laugh bubbling up. 

“i’m natalie, by the way. big fan of hers.”

salma’s relieved that someone knows what’s going on. 

“i’m salma. nice to meet you. so, um, can you explain what i’m supposed to be watching?”

natalie grins. “okay, so it’s orienteering, right? everyone gets a map with specific points they need to reach in a set order. those points are marked by little orange and white flags hidden in the forest. the goal is to navigate to each flag as fast as possible using just the map and a compass. no GPS or shortcuts. once they find the flag, there’s a sensor that registers their time.”

salma raises her eyebrows. “so, they’re just… running around trying to find these flags?”

“pretty much,” natalie says, shrugging. 

“but it’s way more technical than it looks. like, you have to be good at reading the map while running, keeping track of where you are, and planning the best routes to each point. that’s what makes y/n so good—she’s super fast and she barely ever makes mistakes with her navigation.”

“that sounds intense.” salma glances toward the dense trees where you disappeared, her respect for you growing with every word natalie says.

salma and you met outside of both of your sports. in fact, it was a mutual friend who set you both up at a party. 

when she found out that you did a sport too, she was happy to get familiar with it. even if it sounded confusing. 

“yeah, it’s mental,” natalie agrees, nodding. “and y/n’s one of the best. she’s won a ton of races.”

salma smiles softly, feeling proud. “i know. i’ve watched her a few times on tv, but this is my first time seeing it live.”

“oh, really? well, you’re in for a treat. she’s amazing to watch in person. plus, if she’s in the best mood, she’ll be back here at the finish in no time.”

salma watches as competitors start emerging from the forest, some sprinting toward the finish line, others clearly frustrated, taking longer routes back. 

every now and then, a beep goes off as they punch in at the last control point near the finish.

natalie’s eyes light up suddenly. “look! there she is!”

salma’s heart skips a beat as she spots you darting out from between the trees, sweat running down your face but a determined expression set in your features. 

you’re one of the fastest runners out there, navigating the final stretch like it’s second nature.

“she’s flying,” salma mutters in awe, watching as you punch your last point and sprint toward the finish line. 

within seconds, you cross it, panting and grinning widely.

natalie claps excitedly. “she did it! i think she might’ve won!”

salma’s too busy watching you catch your breath to hear the announcer confirm it, but when you glance her way, she waves excitedly, a proud smile taking over her face. 

you give her a tired thumbs-up before turning to cool down with your teammates.

“wow,” salma breathes, still trying to process the speed and skill you just showed. “that was insane.”

natalie grins at her. 

“told you she’s amazing.”

salma chuckles. 

“you really know a lot about this sport.”

“yeah, been following orienteering since i was a kid. and y/n’s one of my favorites.” 

natalie shuffles her feet, a little shy all of a sudden. 

“she’s, uh, actually the reason i started orienteering.”

“really?” salma’s eyes soften, touched by the girl’s enthusiasm. “you want to meet her?”

natalie’s jaw drops. “wait, are you serious?”

“of course! it’s the least i can do after you explained everything to me,” salma says, already walking toward you. 

natalie hesitates for a moment, then quickly follows.

you’re still cooling off when you see salma and a nervous-looking girl approaching. you smile, wiping your face with a towel.

“hey, you,” salma greets you, pulling you into a quick hug. “you were amazing out there.”

“thanks,” you mumble, catching your breath. your eyes shift to natalie, who’s staring at you in awe. 

“who’s your friend?”

“this is natalie. she’s a huge fan of yours and explained the whole race to me. i thought i’d bring her over to meet you.” salma grins, gesturing to natalie. 

natalie’s cheeks flush red as she stammers, “i-it’s such an honor to meet you, y/n. i’ve been following your career for years. you’re… you’re incredible.”

“thank you, natalie. that means a lot. and thanks for helping salma out—she probably would’ve been totally lost without you.” you chuckle softly, reaching out to pull the girl into a hug. 

“definitely,” salma adds, laughing. 

“i was ready to run into the forest myself and find out what was going on.”

natalie laughs too, the tension easing as she relaxes around you. 

“seriously, though, you were amazing today. i think you won.”

“we’ll find out soon enough, but i’m glad you got to see it live. there’s something special about being here, right?” you nod, smiling at her enthusiasm. 

“definitely,” natalie agrees, her smile wide. “and i’ll be cheering for you at every race i can.”

“same here. even if i don’t fully get it yet, i’ll always be here when i don’t have my own games.” salma wraps an arm around your waist, squeezing gently. 

you laugh softly, looking between salma and natalie.

“you two are the best.”

to whoever requested, I hope you liked this!! I tried my best to do some research before writing :D

[just-a-ghost00]

You got mail 💌

Let’s find out what the person on your mind has to say to you. Pick one of the following emojis and discover your reading.

🌍 🩵 🌄 🤠

Group 1 🌍

I may not show it to you but I am really happy we met. Everyday with you feels like a new adventure. Though we are worlds apart and so different from each other, I really feel like we match perfectly. You make me feel like I belong. Every moment spent with you is so much fun. It makes me want to jump forward and explore. You are so sweet and generous, so playful that I can’t help but to play along. I feel so lucky being with you. There is so much I want to do with you. I want to hang out with you and get to know you more. Maybe we could have a couple drinks, play in a park, have a little date by the river… if you wish. I feel so boring compared to you. With me, everything is always black and white. But you, my love, are so colorful and bright. I wish we were a family. I wish I could wake up in the morning to find you sitting at the table, eating breakfast with a smile on your face. I wish I could share with you my favorite spots and take you to every place I get to see. I wish I could find a way to express all that you mean to me. I tend to see the glass half empty. But when I’m with you I want to believe everything is possible. You have filled my cup with your love and I am so thankful for that. I can’t find the words to tell you how much I owe to you. You’ve made me a better person and I feel like I could never return the favor.

Group 2 🩵

I may look like all is well and fine but to tell you the truth I feel hollow. And I could use some fun. I always seem so busy, always the life of the party, making everybody laugh and ensuring they have a good time. But deep inside, it’s getting tough. As the days go by, I feel my energy depleting and my motivation as well. I don’t even know why I do this anymore. I force myself for the sake of keeping appearances but honestly I’m not sure I like it at all. I’m afraid that if you dig deep enough, you wouldn’t like what you find there. I am much more fragile than I seem. Also much more mellow and soft when I get the chance. But lately I’m more of a zombie than anything. I don’t think I could bring you much joy nor comfort. I’m afraid I’ve turned bitter. It’s all about work and making sure the money gets in and less about enjoying what I’m doing. I need to pay the bills. There’s competition around. I can’t afford to lose. Everyone’s counting on me. People look up to me. I sacrificed a lot to get there. I can’t back down now. Who would I be if I did? I can’t disappoint. It’s all a masquerade but it’s for a cause. It might not look great to you but it means a lot to me. So, sorry if I’m acting cold but… it’s all for you baby. Don’t go thinking I found someone better. Believe me I don’t have the time for that.

Group 3 🌄

Hold on a minute ! I know what you’re gonna think. What the heck is he/she saying? But hey, let me explain you’ll get it ! I may not be the strongest, the wisest or the most impressive of them all but one thing that’s sure about me is that I only have good intentions for you. I am ready to fight for you if that must be done. Thought I’m not good at that. Listen, my point is I really like you. I want to be with you, have fun with you, chat with you. I want us to take our time and get to know each other and hopefully to grow old together but that’s another story. With you I feel like a kid again. Sometimes, I gotta say, the feeling can be irritating. But at the same time it is freeing. I don’t have to chose a side. I don’t have to act a certain way to be accepted by you or understood. And that’s crazy! I’ve never experienced that before. Usually I would try to conform and play nice, show my best side and stick to the plan. But ever since I met you I want to free myself of those restraints. I want to find my home. I want to express my full potential without fearing being rejected or not belonging. I know you’ll never kick me out. Because you are the same aren’t you? The things I’ve seen, what I’ve been through, you’ve been there as well, right? I want to make a promise to you. Whatever comes our way, I swear I won’t run away. Even though it is scary and seems impossible, I will always work hard and do my best to make it. I may not be exactly your type or what you imagined a partner should be, but I am willing to learn. I am willing to tune to your melody and shelter whatever we may build together, not matter how unstable it may seem. I want you to feel comfortable with me. I want you to feel as safe with me as I feel with you. So if you’ll let me, let me fulfill that promise. You won’t regret it.

Group 4 🤠

To be honest, at first I didn’t get the best of vibes from you. I was a little intimidated and didn’t want to get to know you. Especially considering what people were saying about you. But I tried to see past your exterior and once I got to know you I found out that you were very chill. Maybe it was because I didn’t know you. Maybe I feared the unknown territory you represented. Maybe I was just afraid of going deep. But curiosity got the best of me. And luckily for both of us I stayed around long enough to make my own opinion. And I have to say that you are quite surprising. I won’t lie, being with you asks a lot of efforts on my part. But every second spent with you is worth it. In your presence, I feel comfortable. Being with you reminds me of my childhood. I think of my mother and my family, of the days we spent together before I moved away and followed the wind where it took me. Every page of our story takes me deeper within. I see sides of myself I never noticed or didn’t want to remember. I remember the innocent days where doing something new weren’t as terrifying and meeting new people sounded like a thrill. Being with you I feel blessed and content. There’s a light heartedness and a warmth in my heart I wouldn’t trade for anything. When I’m alone at home you’re all I think about. When I’m at work also. There isn’t a single moment when you’re not on my mind. When I’m with you I feel hopeful. I think that maybe life isn’t as tough as I thought it would be. That maybe there is more waiting for me. Please, show me more of your different sides. Tell me more about what makes you happy. Let me in and let me see for myself what you are made of. I’m begging you don’t shut me out. I want more of you.

[lil-frenchfri77]

Begin Again

Summary: Ever since Bella came back to Forks things between y/n and her boys have been different. Embry and Quil stopped answering phone calls and texts, they’ve even been avoiding her everytime she shows up at their house. So y/n does the only thing she can think to do, she latches onto Jacob just like Bella, and when he starts acting like Embry and Quil did, she makes the decision to not put so much effort into a friendship that is clearly one sided. But what happens one day when Sam’s pack is in town at the same time as y/n and her new friends and two certain boys imprint on their former best friend? And what happens when a former best friend doesn’t feel the same way?

Author’s Note: Hello to everyone that is reading this! This is my first ever time writing a fanfic, so (if you’re reading this) go easy on me. I would love to hear any feedback anyone might have in the comments. Super excited to be writing this Twilight fic, I’ve been inspired by others authors on here to take my own spin with Stephaine Myers characters, none of which I have any ownership to. This doesn’t really follow the Eclipse movie timeline, I'm making things up and stretching the timeline. So this is basically my own story just using Stephanie’s characters and some of her themes. There are also some other characters in here that I don’t have any rights to, I just thought it would be fun to put them in this story. I don’t know how long or short this is going to be, I might be able to get my ideas across quickly or this might turn into a few chapters. If you’ve read this far I love you and I really hope you like this!

(Also not beta read cause I can’t afford that)(Dividers from @enchanthings here on Tumblr)

Y/n/n means your nickname 

Embry Call x Fem!Swan!Reader x Quil Ateara

Slight Stiles Stlinski x Reader

Chapter 1 | Master list | Chapter 2

Things had been weird lately, with Bella back in Forks, the Cullens, and your friends on the reservation. It seemed like everyday more and more of your friends were leaving to go hang out with Sam Uley and his pack of assholes. Now it was just down to you, Embry, Quil, and Jacob. It’s not like you’re not fine with that, Embry and Quil were your best friends ever. So you were fine with just the four of you hanging out all the time. But they got so hostile of you whenever Edward or one of his siblings came around to talk to you or Bella. 

It was getting absolutely exhausting trying to mediate things between them. You didn’t want to have to choose between your boys or Bella, but if it came down to it, your choice would always be your family and by extension, the Cullens. Although it seemed like you wouldn’t be getting a choice anyways when Embry and Quil stopped answering your texts and calls. They were never home when you came to visit and see what was happening to them. You had even tried asking Jacob if he knew anything but he swore up and down that he had no idea. 

You never expected to see them hanging out with Sam and his pack, jumping off that stupid cliff. You had never felt more betrayed. They could do whatever they wanted to but it hurt that they felt the need to drop you, without any kind of explanation and go hang out with the few people (at least you thought) you mutually disliked. It was obvious that they weren’t going to talk to you anymore so you did the only thing you could think of, you left them one last voicemail in hopes to get through to them. 

“Hey, it’s me. Um, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I still miss you guys. I saw you the other day, hanging out with Sam and his boys. It’s fine, I guess. I just thought that we were better friends than that. I mean, we’ve been inseparable since we were 6 but that’s not really the point of why I called.” You took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from rambling some more. “I don’t really understand why you started hanging out with Sam but you have free will so I can’t stop you. But I miss you guys, and I still want to be friends. I don’t want to permanently lose you both because I can’t get over this petty dislike I have. So, call me back. Please. I want to talk about everything, but if you truly want nothing to do with me anymore then I won’t bother you again. This is goodbye, then.” 

2 months later

Life wasn’t the easiest thing anymore. The boys never called you back, which you expected but it still stung. You still had Jacob, but it wasn’t the same. Jacob knew how much Embry and Quil’s choice had affected you, but there wasn’t much he could do to help you. He couldn’t just tell you that they were werewolves. So he did his best to try and raise your spirits. You were wholeheartedly grateful you had him during this time. 

Bella wasn’t much help either, she had just been broken up with and she was rotting away in her room. It appeared as though life was hating the Swan girls right now. As much as you wanted to wallow in your own pity you knew you had to be there for Bella. It’s not like the kids from school were going to help her, and honestly Bella wouldn’t want them to. So you spent months trying to help Bella, you didn’t want to lose your sister too. 

“Please, Bells. Just talk to me, tell me what’s going on in your head. I’ll do anything to help you, you just have to tell me. Tell me what I can do for you, I want to take all this pain away. I know this isn’t about me or dad but we’re so scared for you Bells. We love you so much.” You plead  with her. Tears welled up in your eyes when she turned away from you and went back to looking out of her window. You walked out of her room before she could see or hear you start to cry. 

“Whoa, slow down there kid. What’s happening?” Charlie stopped you in the hallway. His hands gripped your shoulders as they shook with silent sobs. 

“I can’t watch her wither away like that dad. She’s changing so much, and I don’t know how to help her. I hate Edward for what he’s putting her through and he’s not even here.” You spoke through your tears. Hiccuping in between every breath you took. 

“Y/n,” Charlie whispered, cupping your cheeks and making you look up at him, “We will get her through all of this okay kid? You and me will bring our Bella back. I know it.” He assured you as genuinely as he could. Truth be told, he had no idea if he would be able to get his daughters back to the girls they were before all this happened. He was grateful that you seemed to be okay so soon after the Embry and Quil situation. He didn’t know what he would do if both of his kids were nervous wrecks he couldn’t console. 

You nodded at him instead of answering back. You knew he was just trying to make you feel better. As much as you wanted to stay and keep trying with Bella you had to go to school. You couldn’t miss any more days this week or you would fall too far behind. 

After getting dressed you head downstairs where you say goodbye to your dad and meet Jacob who’s waiting for you outside. Lately he has taken to riding with you to school and then walking back to the reservation afterwards so you weren’t alone in the mornings. It was also a way for him to keep an eye on you and Bella. 

“You know, you don’t have to keep doing this Jake, I’m perfectly okay with getting to school by myself.” You told him today. It has been on your mind for a little while now. 

“I know,” he chuckles, “but I like to. Sometimes I don’t want to be alone in the morning so I make you suffer and force my presence on you. You’re going to have to get used to it.” Jacob simply shrugged. 

You get quiet after that and it worries him, but before he can ask you what’s wrong you beat him to it

“If you ever want to be friends with Sam and everyone else, please don’t cut me off too. I don’t think I could handle that.” Your hands grip the steering wheel tighter as you pull up to a red light. You can’t bring yourself to look over at him, as you not so patiently wait for his answer. 

“Y/n/n, I will never abandon you to be friends with Sam and his pack of douchebags. Okay? It's you and me against the world now.” He says in such a loving tone that it brings tears to your eyes for the second time that day. “Oh god, please don’t cry. I totally didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

Watching him panic while he tries to get you to stop crying does the trick, and you start to giggle at him. The rest of the drive to your school is silent with the occasional sing along moment to whatever is playing on the radio. When you finally arrive at school you're in a much better mood. 

You say goodbye to Jacob and head into the building, putting on your headphones and turning the volume all the way up. Someone knocks into you from the side sending your phone and headphones sliding across the floor. 

“Oh my god. I’m so freaking sorry!” Apologizes spill from the mystery boy's mouth as his friend, the one who pushed him into you, hurries to gather your things. He turns around to his friend on the floor and hisses out “Dude. What the hell??” 

It wasn’t surprising that you had to clue who these boys were. When you were friends with Embry and Quil you didn't really talk to the people you go to school with. “It’s fine.” You shrugged it off, not wanting to create a problem with these two. 

“No, its not fine. I totally didn't mean to smash into you. Scott’s just an asshole.” The boy throws his friend, Scott, under the bus. “I’m Stiles by the way.” 

“I didn't mean to push him into you miss, I didn't even see you there.” Scott pipes in, before quickly realizing what he said. “OH! I didn't mean I didn't see you at all, like you're just hard to see. Cause you’re not hard to miss. Not that you're always in the way! I've never seen you before so… I'm going to stop talking now.” Scott sheepishly tugs at the collar of his shirt. He seems to be sweating now. The incredulous look on your face seems to shut him up well enough for his friend, Stiles, to get a word in. 

“Wow dude, that was bad.” He’s trying to hold back his laughter now. “I think what he's trying to say is that he was so preoccupied with being an asshat that he wasn't paying attention to our surroundings.” Stiles says it a lot more eloquently than Scott had and it makes you giggle. 

They both stare at you like you've grown a second head. “That was the worst apology I have ever heard in my entire life.” You state after getting ahold of your laughter. “I’m y/n. I accept your terrible apology, and it's okay that you haven't seen me around before, because to be honest. I've never seen either of you around before either.” 

They let out a breath of relief and apologize one more time, sounding more coherent and sincere this go around. Scott proceeds to ask you what you have for the first period and surprisingly you have the same class as them, so you all walk to your class talking and getting to know each other. When you get to class you part ways to your seats with plans to meet after class. 

Your class schedules were pretty similar, especially yours and Stiles. In the classes you and Stiles shared you decided to move seats and sit next to each other, getting in trouble a few times for talking too much. You were getting along with him so well that he invited you to sit with him and his friends at lunch. And since you didn't have any other plans you took him up on his offer. 

When lunch time rolls around Stiles follows you to your locker where you get your food before heading to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. The table quiets down when the two of you approach. “Y/n these are my friends: Lydia, Allison, Issac, Liam, Malia, Kira, and you've already met Scott.” One by one his friends say hello and introduce themselves to you. This wasn’t at all how you thought it was going to go. You assumed that they would only give you a cursory hi and go back to their conversations, but they seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

[nobigsecrets]

(I Don't Believe) It's That Simple

Fandom: 9-1-1 Relationship: Eddie Diaz & Tommy Kinard Rating: T Words: 2,478

But this? Is coming from a different place. It's also clearly running deeper than random curiosity, it's something that Eddie has already put some thought into—and something dawns on Tommy. Is Eddie questioning?

"Hey, Eddie," Tommy says, as softly as he can manage to pull Eddie back out of his head. "Where's this coming from? You think you might be... not straight?"

Or: Eddie and Tommy are having a conversation.

Read on AO3

"So, how did you know?" Eddie asks, apropos of nothing.

Tommy's brow furrows as he's trying to make sense of the question. They're sitting in Eddie's living room, after they'd first played basketball and then watched basketball on TV while eating takeout and having a couple of beers. The game has long since ended though and they've been silently nursing their latest round of beers for the past few minutes. He tries to recall what they were talking about last. A call the 118 had taken a few days ago, he remembers, Evan had had to rappel down a bridge and it had been stupidly risky. But apparently Eddie's thoughts had taken some turns Tommy can't quite follow—

"How did I know what?"

"Buck told me—" Eddie starts, then has to put his words into the right order before he continues. "He said he knew he was bi the moment you kissed him. Like you handed him a puzzle piece and he immediately knew where it was supposed to go." Eddie takes a swig of his beer and turns around so he can better look at Tommy, who's sitting at the other end of the couch. "So I wondered, how did you know?"

"Mmh," Tommy says and then asks back, "how did I know Evan is bi? Or how did I know I'm gay?" It's been too many beers over the course of the evening and he can't quite read if Eddie's sudden interest is sparked out of random curiosity—or something else.

"Oh, uhm," Eddie says, somewhat unintelligible and clearly the beers have left an impact on him, too. "Well, both. I think. What I meant is how did you know you're not straight?"

"I always knew," Tommy readily admits, marveling at how easy it sounds when in reality it had been anything but. So for accuracy he adds, "but for the longest time I pretended that I didn't."

Eddie makes a confused face for a moment. "So you, uh, dated women? Like, before—?”

"Yes, I did hook up with women," Tommy admits and sighs, he's not exactly proud of his past. "It was before I came out to myself. I lied to them and I lied to myself, pretended it was what I wanted even though it never felt right."

Tommy knows it was a shitty thing to do. He now also knows it was driven by self-preservation for the most part and therefore explainable. Not excusable, his mind adds automatically. But his therapist had been adamant about driving that point home, that there were reasons for why he did what he did, that he shouldn't blindly take all the blame for it on himself.

Eddie nods like he understands. It takes a moment before he comes out with the next question. "And did you ever have a girlfriend? Like, something long-term?"

"No, not really," Tommy says, "only ever a few months before I broke it off." And that's one thing the Army offered that he's actually still grateful for. Being on duty, getting deployed, it was an easy excuse to get out of anything that came close to being called a relationship. "The longest I've been with a girl was through basic training and a few months after that. Maybe half a year? I couldn't do it, it was—“

Tommy breaks off, looking for a way to explain how stifling it had felt but he doesn't need to bother because Eddie offers, "It was like performing a role and you played it because it was expected of you."

"Yeah!" Tommy agrees, surprised by how precisely Eddie's words hit the mark.

Eddie murmurs something that Tommy doesn't quite catch but that sounds a lot like "go figure" and now Tommy takes a closer look. Eddie looks tired, but he's looked like that ever since Chris left. It's the actual reason why Tommy is sitting on Eddie's couch this late at night. But Eddie also looks anxious. He's worrying at the label on his empty beer bottle with his thumbnail, peeling off the paper in tiny pieces.

Tommy knows Eddie has started therapy. He knows—via Evan—that Eddie thinks it might be helping. But this? Is coming from a different place. It's also clearly running deeper than random curiosity, it's something that Eddie has already put some thought into—and something dawns on Tommy. Is Eddie questioning?

"Hey, Eddie," Tommy says, as softly as he can manage to pull Eddie back out of his head. "Where's this coming from? You think you might be... not straight?"

Eddie takes a deep breath. He puts the empty bottle on the side table. "I don't know, man," he says, looking over at Tommy before running both hands over his face. When he looks back up, he seems more determined.

"I did a full Buck the other day," he says and a small, affectionate grin briefly flashes over his face. "I overheard something Hen said to Buck and I didn't want to butt into their conversation, so I went and looked it up on Wikipedia. And then I read the whole article on bisexuality. And then I found out about all the other sexual identities I didn't even know existed."

Eddie shoots a quick look at Tommy, hesitant and vulnerable. Tommy can clearly see he's heading somewhere, that there's something that’s s been stewing in him, something he needs to get out and Tommy waits him out patiently.

"I read all kinds of stuff, you know, and I read about—" Eddie continues and now he's taking a deep breath, bracing himself for the part that he actually wants to share. "Did you know you can be sexually attracted to someone but not romantically? Or the other way around or not at all?"

"That's—“ Tommy says and wrecks his brain. He can vaguely remember someone explaining this at a meetup of the queer LAFD group he sometimes joins. Split-attraction... something, he thinks. It's not what he'd expected Eddie to say if he's being honest.

"It's got something to do with asexuality, right?" Tommy shifts his position from where he's lounging in the corner of the couch, turning more towards Eddie and scooting a little closer.

Eddie looks relieved that Tommy apparently knows what he's talking about. "Yeah, that," he confirms. "It said on the web that you can be asexual or aromantic or a mix of both—it's a spectrum, evidently."

"And you think you're somewhere on that spectrum?" Tommy asks in a way he hopes is reassuring as much as encouraging.

"Yes. No. I don't know. But man, it kinda makes sense to me." Eddie says and the way he's torn up about this, the doubt Tommy can hear in his voice, it sounds painfully familiar.

"I mean, I do like having sex. Seeing a beautiful woman, it works for me, you know. But I suck at relationships, it's like... like I said, a performance. Always has, even with—" Eddie stops abruptly, biting his lip. He looks away for a second before he catches himself.

"I once had an actual panic attack over being stuck in a relationship, did Buck ever tell you that?"

"He did not," Tommy says with a small shake of his head. He's got to fight back his curiosity because it sounds like that's a story he'd like to hear about someday. But he sure as hell won't ask for more than what Eddie is willing to share right now.

When he'd picked up things with Evan again after their first failed date, Tommy had promised himself to go slow, to do right by Evan in a way no one had ever done right by him. But then it turned out Evan neither needed to go slow nor to be handled with care and they'd been able to set their pace together. It had been a pleasant surprise after their initial bumpy start.

With Eddie though, Tommy recognizes the same hesitation, the same kind of uncertainty, the same fear of failing to meet other people's expectations—or his own expectations for that matter—that had plagued himself for so many years. He's glad, and honored, that Eddie asked him about it. Tommy thinks that if he'd had someone back then, someone he could've trusted, he might have come to terms with being gay so much earlier. But the first openly queer person he'd ever met, or at least had come into closer contact with had been Hen—and by that point he'd dug himself so deep into the closet that he barely remembered there was a way out. He doesn't want anyone to go through the same pain, not if he can help it—

"How can I be sure that I'm not just confused?" Eddie asks now, taking Tommy's momentary silence as encouragement to go on. "Like, how do I know it’s because I’m... aromantic and not just because I’m crap at relationships? I mean, maybe I'm just a shitty partner.” Eddie stumbles a bit over the word; like it's a pair of pants that's one size too big and doesn't fit quite yet.

"Well first of all, I don't think you'd be a shitty partner because I know for a fact that you're a great and loyal friend," Tommy says and he's glad to get a small—if pretty self-conscious—smile in response. "But to answer your question about how you know—you basically just said it yourself: it makes sense to you. That's all that matters."

"That's all that matters?" Eddie repeats, eyebrows raised and oozing skepticism. "I don't believe it's that simple."

"It really is that simple." It's a fact Tommy's had to learn the hard way but it's something he now believes in one hundred percent. "You are the only who knows how you feel. What works for you, as you put it. No one else can tell you that. So no one else gets to decide. If there's a label that makes sense to you, if you feel comfortable with it, claim it."

Tommy can almost see the gears turning inside Eddie's head as he's thinking things over. He waits him out patiently and reaches for the beer bottle he deposited on the coffee table earlier. Coffee would probably be a better fitted drink for this conversation, he thinks as he takes a drink of the lukewarm beer.

"The idea— well, the possibility of just not wanting a romantic relationship with someone, it... it felt like a relief," Eddie admits. "I don't like going on dates. It feels all staged and, I don't know, fake. Most of the time. I'd rather be hanging as friends, you know. Like with Buck, with you guys." Eddie gestures towards Tommy, apparently wanting him to know he's included. It's sweet.

"But then I think a family is everything I ever wanted. Being married, having kids, the way it's supposed to be. I never pictured my life any other way. And I think of Chris—and it all feels incredibly selfish."

"And did you ever give yourself the time and space to picture your life any other way?" Tommy asks and carefully places his still half-full beer bottle back onto the coffee table, very much aware that his next question is a delicate one. "Chris' mom, she was your high school sweetheart, right?"

Eddie looks up sharply and Tommy is ready to apologize and take a step back, he knows the woman has left a sore mark behind, but then Eddie's face softens and he nods in agreement.

"Shannon," Eddie says. "Yes, she was. And we had Chris when we were 19. We didn't have much of a choice back then. At least it didn't feel like we did."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Tommy says and he means it. He remembers being that age, being pressured into making decisions that will affect your whole life—while being offered no real prospects of a future. "That's why sometimes we adopt what people expect us to do as our own expectations.

"Look, when I was growing up and through my time in the Army, I told myself I couldn't be gay—because I'm not interested in... I don't know, arts or fashion or fancy shit like that. I like typical guy stuff, always have. Engines and sports and fighting. I didn't fit any of the clichés about gay men. So I fell between places. I wasn't straight in the way people expected me to be and I wasn't gay in the way people expected gay men to be. It took me years to figure that one out. It takes time, Eddie."

"Yes, I guess that's something I need to untangle," Eddie says. "Shannon and I, we fucked up. And then I tried to do right by her by marrying her. Plus it was the only way I knew how to appease to my parents. And I... I always tried to tell myself it was what we would've done anyway. But now I don't think it was what either of us really wanted at the time." He sighs and rubs a hand over his face and hair, but now the gesture is more thoughtful than anxious. Eventually, a small grin steals itself on Eddie's face, "See? It's not that simple after all."

"Alright, I relent. It can be messy until you get there," Tommy says, glad to see a tiny challenging glint back in Eddie's eyes. "But once you stop lying to yourself, once you stop trying to be who other people want you to be, it really is that simple."

"I'll take your word for it!" Eddie scoots forward on the couch and reaches for his beer bottle, pulling a face at finding it empty. It's a clear signal that he's done talking for now.

"Let me know how it goes," Tommy says and then finishes his own beer in a few gulps.

"You want another one?" Eddie gets up from couch and starts to collect the empty bottles.

"No, I'm good," Tommy says, getting up from the couch, too. "I should get going anyway. It's late." He takes half of the bottles and helps Eddie carry them into the kitchen.

"Yeah, sure." Eddie puts the empty bottles on the counter and motions for Tommy to do the same.

"Tell Buck I said hi. And that I'm sorry for keeping you this long," he says as they're walking back into the living room and towards the front door.

"I'm sure he won't mind." Tommy stops with his hand on the door handle, "but just so you know: I won't tell him what we were talking about. That's your job. If and when you're ready."

"Understood," Eddie agrees and then pulls Tommy into a quick hug, patting his shoulder twice for good measure. "Thanks for listening, man."

"Sure," Tommy says with a smile. "Thanks for trusting me with this."

[httpsdana]

Heeey! Could you do prompt 69 with Jamal Musiala (where he maybe accidentally confesses or something these are always cute)

BTW I LOVE LOVE YOUR WRITING SM HOW DO YOU ALWAYS GET ME INVESTED WHILE READING 😭

And thank you in advance ❤️

Oops?~Jamal Musiala

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

thank you for your sweet message, it means everything to me 💋💋

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

69-"did you just say you like me?"

It was supposed to be a casual hang out between 'friends', but the tension in the air almost said something different.

Jamal and y/n were watching a movie, a comedy one to be specific, however Jamal's concentration seemed to be on something else.

What broke his train of thoughts was y/n's laugh at something that was said in the movie. He looked up immediately, watching how her eyes crinkled while she laughed, the sound being so soothing to his ears, to the point where he blurted out some words without even noticing.

"you have a really cute laugh" Jamal said, before he noticed what he did, causing his eyes to widen.

y/n's laugh faltered, looking at him to study his expressions. His face was in a deep shade of red, eyes on the ground and fingers tangled in each other on his lap.

"what?" she asked, wondering if what she heard was true or not.

"i meant you...laugh in a nice way?" he said awkwardly, clearing his throat while looking away.

"where is that coming from right now?" she asked, watching him squirm under her intense gaze.

"what do you mean, I didn't say anything wrong?" he said, his eyes still avoiding hers as he tried focusing on the movie again

"you're being really weird" she pointed out, reaching for the remote control to pause their movie.

She shifted her body in a position so she was facing him, her eyes searching his face for something...anything.

"tell me what's wrong?" she asked him, making him look at her for a second, before he turned away quickly.

"nothing's wrong. I don't know why you think there's something wrong" he mumbled, looking down at his hands.

"obviously there's something on your mind but for some reason you're refusing to tell me" she raised her eyebrows, crossing her fingers over her chest.

"it's nothing" Jamal brushed it off, reaching down for the remote to continue their movie.

Before he could reach it, y/n took the remote and put it behind her back.

"tell. me. what's. going. on" she said sharply, her eyes watching him so intensely.

"oh my god. nothings wrong. I mean I just like kinda have a crush on this girl but she's so stupid and she can't seem to get it and understand that I like her. i mean if I tell you your laugh is cute why don't you understand that I like you. isn't it obvious, I don't go around telling people they have nice laughs or whatever" he rambled, not understanding his own words as he felt the pressure of her gaze on him.

"hold on...did you just say you like me?" she asked, her eyes slightly wide.

Just then Jamal noticed what he had said, his eyes also widening as he cleared his throat.

"um...I did?" he said nervously, looking down at the ground once again

"yes you did" she said, a small smile appearing on her face.

"oh wow. I really did" he murmured, more to himself.

The awkward silence took over them for a while, both of them waiting for the other to say something. y/n got tired of waiting so she spoke again

"so you're not gonna kiss me?" she said, making Jamal look up at her with wide eyes.

"you want me to kiss you?" he asked, his forehead crinkling as his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"well obviously yes. if I didn't like you back I wouldn't be here would i? no offense Jamal but only people who really like you would stay around you for this long" she said, a bit of frustration evident in her voice as she spoke.

Jamal sat still for a second, trying to take in the words she had said. he didn't know if he should be upset about her words or just glad that she likes him.

"you're such a dumbass" y/n mumbled, before grabbing his face and connecting their lips.

Jamal's eyes widened, before he closed them and kissed her back, one of his hands reaching to the back of her neck to pull her even closer. their kiss was tender, full of all the admiration they have hid long enough.

They pulled away, both of them breathless. Jamal leaned back on the couch, his mind still comprehending what had happened.

He smiled to himself, his cheeks flushed as he looked at y/n with a tiny smile. Just then he remembered what she said, about "no one wanting to be around him"

"hey what did you mean no one would want to be around me?" he asked curiously, making y/n look at him with a look that says 'are you serious'

"we just kissed for the first time and now you're asking what I meant by that?" she said, her hand reaching up to cover her face

"I mean yeah" he shrugged, making her groan.

"you're so stupid oh my god" she mumbled, shaking her head with a small smile.

"but you like me...right?" he said, a boyish grin finding it's way to his face.

"yes you're lucky I like you" she said, making him chuckle a bit

"yes I am" he mumbled, smiling to himself at how their friendship has shifted in just one movie night.

[dizzybevvie]

If I die within the next week know it wasnt an accident

[todayisafridaynight]

Since you mentioned it, what did you think of Speak No Evil? I was thinking of watching it myself :0

i really liked it ............ my friend scoffed at me when i told her i was watchin it so take my opinion with a grain of salt tho </3

[melon-dot-com]

bonking my head against desk.mp4

I wasted time on something unimportant and that I didn't even care about again!!!!! I'm gonna Lose It!!!!

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

check out my buy me a coffee!

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[not-neverland06]

you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eat me-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

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

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

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

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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus ♡

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞

❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞

✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader

✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika

✧ wc: 4,916

Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said. 

‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it. 

Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside. 

Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat: 

Don’t do this, girl. 

Another message. 

What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience

What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record. 

Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with. 

You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong. 

All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies. 

You needed better friends. 

So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy. 

You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera. 

Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it. 

“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid? 

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears. 

“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them. 

Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends. 

But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling. 

You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out. 

“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again. 

You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back. 

He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach. 

Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you. 

Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out. 

“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine. 

“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. 

He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you. 

“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?” 

You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“ 

“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?” 

Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin. 

You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,” 

“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“

Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin. 

He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure. 

“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands. 

“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,” 

“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,” 

You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“ 

“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,” 

“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards. 

“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that. 

Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need. 

“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer. 

“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,” 

He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands? 

“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder. 

Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,” 

His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in. 

~~~

“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you. 

“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt. 

“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips. 

Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock. 

His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt. 

“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,” 

You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it. 

His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs. 

His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth. 

“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face. 

“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it. 

“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down. 

But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another. 

“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment. 

But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?” 

And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”

“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,” 

And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet. 

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there. 

Or rather, when you get there. 

~~~

“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature. 

And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long. 

“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”

You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb. 

“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,” 

And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,” 

Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,” 

It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom. 

The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either  accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh. 

“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go. 

And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had. 

Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt. 

“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”

And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again. 

 “Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do. 

He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss. 

And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips. 

He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark. 

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms. 

No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now. 

The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.” 

✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.

✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

_________________________________________

He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[eiilese]

what if the strawhats had different roles on the ship⁉️ i swapped everyone’s roles except for luffy because i can’t imagine him being anything but the captain

these are loose redesigns since their canon designs don’t really read as their roles all that much to begin with. some extra doodles and ideas for this in the cut !!

nami, vice captain: i took a lot of inspiration from her beta design!! canon nami already bosses everyone around so she fits right into the role. she wields an extendable staff (usopp still makes it for her); she lost her arm over the time-skip like how zoro lost his eye. i LOVE drawing cargo pants and boots, so she ended up with a sorta bottom-heavy design. frankly it’s probably not her style but i like how she looks

zoro, the cook: my foolproof logic is zoro uses swords = good with knives. he does not use katanas to cut produce however, just normal knives. i was trying to go for “sweaty ramen guy” with the towel around his neck. the majority of the shit he cooks would probably be drowned in alcohol. he also wears his bandana the majority of the time now!! it completes the ramen guy look

sanji, the sniper: i also took inspiration from his beta design for this!!! he has guns!! and perfect aim of course. i was going for more of a mafioso look so germa 66 would be like, a mafia organization on top of all the other villain shit they already do. he has two guns but i didn’t draw a holster bc that’s annoying🤞 he lights his cigarettes with his guns. how would that even work? don’t ask me

usopp, the navigator: his artistic talent lends itself to creating perfect maps! he also still tinkers, making nami’s staff as well as having a specialty for compasses. he uses a slingshot still (no perfect aim we gotta nerf him) and shoots weather-related projectiles. his goggles serve as binoculars, they can zoom to several different distances. i drew him in his zou outfit purely bc it’s my favorite one

chopper, the helmsman: he would predominately use heavy point while maneuvering the wheel. i changed his hat up to look more like a sailor’s cap, with an anchor symbol instead of an X. to be honest i don’t have much else bc helmsman doesn’t bring much to my mind :(

franky, the musician: ROCK N ROLL BABY YEEAHHH come on his stage presence is unmatched. he’s still a cyborg, he has instruments all over his body like apoo does but they were installed manually. his personality changes depending on what genre he’s playing but rock n roll is his default B) (ex. classical calls for a refined gentleman)

robin, the shipwright: her devil fruit gives her as many helpful hands as she needs! she developed nami’s arm (definitely installed some random shit she did Not ask for). she has a robot mecha that she’s able to pilot all by herself using clones. i changed her orange sunglasses to goggle eyewear

brook, the doctor: the irony of being nursed back to health by a literal skeleton 💀the irony of being the doctor of the rumbar pirates yet being the only survivor, saving no one from the poison 💀 i went for a plague doctor look! IM VERY HAPPY WITH HOW HE TURNED OUT i was really tempted to give him the plague mask too, but i feel that would’ve changed his appearance too much compared to the others

jinbei, the archaeologist: the shape of this man demands a little pair of round glasses on his face. he’s an intellectual i tell you!!! plus still a fishman karate master. the history of joyboy and fishman island being so intertwined is how he developed an interest in history