characters I will write for : Dean Winchester, pretty much any x-men 97 character, Magik/Illyana Rasputin, The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes, Miles Morales, Peter Parker, Peter Quill, Leatherface, Mother Gooseberry, Leland Coyle, Dr. Easterman, Frankensteins Creature, Charlie Dalton, Harry Dresden
✓ : x reader exclusive, fluff, smut, and angst are all welcome
X : wincest or any kind of incest really, smut for underage characters, graphic descriptions of rape and non-con, scat, piss
!! : I have had a few fanfiction writing accounts before, if you see a fanfiction you have read before on this account, they are written and reuploaded BY ME, not stolen
something for coyle revolving around his new trial perhaps ^_^
cowboy!Coyle x f!ex-pop!reader
tw/cw: smut!, reader is referred to as a dog/puppy/pup ect, porn with plot, electroplay (Leland fucks you with his cattle prod lol), gore, cannibalism, references to vomit, bondage, praise
wc: 1.9K
authors note: omggggg cowboy Coyle, i'm gonna bust. I'm so sad, my playstation isn't available so I won't be able to play it when it comes out :( but this is an ex-pop idea i've had in my head for a little bit so thank you for giving me the opportunity to use it!!
It hurts. The bright horrible light. The throb in every joint.
Your whole body felt like one big bruise being prodded. Your fingers touched against your face, it probably looked like a sack of purple potatoes. You would've laughed, if your vocal cords weren't severed and mangled, leaving a mess in your throat. Murkoff was mean…so….so mean. You couldn't understand. Stupid, stupid. Your head hits against the wall of your cold concrete cell, subconsciously. You stopped, but what was a drop of pain in a sea of agony?
You crawled, on all fours to the light that hurt your eyes so much after so long in the darkness. Flashlight? Your cheek pressed against the cold steel bars, so much colder than the room. It felt so good against your throbbing cheek. You swam, in the rough southern voice and the doctor man who hurt you so so much. "View it, as a companion? A pet?" The man with the southern voice said. A pet? Like a…dog.
"Yes. Exactly. Imagine, no space to hide when you've got a nose and eyes in every place."
"I don't need no help, I do just damn fine on my own." He grumbled, his sharp mean eyes locking onto your pitiful form. His boot hit the bars and you skittered back, hunched down. You noticed you were naked, and some non-lobotomized spot inside felt embarrassed. Your bruised welting hands hid your breasts. "This whelp wouldn't be much help to me anyways."
"She's surprisingly adequate." The man in the coat came to the door, swinging the bars open. You wanted to curl up and cry out, knowing he only took you out for the pain. For the hunt. To shock you and force you into the nasty places. Where your only food was entrails and scraps. You shuddered when his cold hands gripped your biceps and hauled you off into the light.
You whirled around, maybe, maybe freedom was close. Your teeth sunk into his hand, and he cried out. Something sharp and mean dug into your soft aching belly, locking into place, nuzzled next to your fat and muscle. And then it licked up with flames, the worst cramps, your muscles spasming. Like when you bled between out between your thighs and your tummy hurt so so much but worse…but like fire. It felt like death was worming and writhing up in your guts, and it shocked right up till it rattled your teeth.
You dropped his hand and cried, falling to the ground with so much hurt as the prongs left your skin. And the southern man stood over you with a…confusing expression. So much sadistic joy as his thumb wiped the drool over your trembling bottom lip. It pushed up under your top lip to expose the teeth as your doctor cursed and held his bleeding hand. His thumb tasted like dirt and blood and salt. It felt gross as he shoved it harder, tracing over your molars and your too many canines that they shoved into your gums and welded to your skull. They still panged and ached, like new adult teeth. Too big around the ages and heavy.
"Well look at you…" He nearly cooed, the sharp pronged device falling to his hip as the blue light died. His hand gripped your jaw just a little harder, smooshing your cheeks though they didn't have much fat left. "Got fire in ya huh?"
You panted, your hands closing around his wrist as you met his eyes. Dark grey eyes. Sharp. Beautiful. A new interest growing in them after your little outburst. The pain eased, just a tad, your cramps ceasing. Just melt into his hands, his salty bloody hands. "She…is usually more pliant." You heard the doctor choke out. "Must be jumpy with a new man."
"Such a cute little puppy hm?" He dragged you up to your knees, his cigar breath blowing into your sharpened senses. "Now listen, I'm gonna take you with me okay? And you're gonna be my pup, and you're gonna hunt down those lawless pinko fucks for me, and all you gotta do is keep those pearly whites away and do as I say."
You nodded. It seemed like the only reasonable option, really. You'd get to get away from the cages and you'd have…him. Cigarette salty him. You made a tiny noise, with your messed up vocal cords, and it sounded near a bark. He laughed at that.
Eventually you learned his name. Sergeant Leland Coyle. He was a cop. And the people running around stealing stuff were lawless criminals that needed to be punished. You were like a herding dog, chasing the criminals so they'd run towards Leland. He lets you have the scraps of their bodies, the cooked parts from his cattle prod. Sometimes he holds them there long after they're dead to cook them, for you.
In some distant life, it might've disturbed you, but this was the most amount of love anyone had ever given you.
Even when he hit you when you did bad. Every time you got distracted, when you lost a reagent in the spray, when you faltered at every brick or accidently stumbled into that noxious gas that made you all loopy and scared. The fired up cattle prod always found its way into your soft quivering gut.
You finished the trial, slumping against the wall, waiting patiently for Coyle. You knew he was coming before he saw you, the smell and sound of him was so distinct now. His thumbs were hooked into his jean loops, you nearly jumped out of your spot but your legs were too weak, belly too full of reagent meat. "They really ran you ragged hm hun?"
You sigh, his hands digging into the muscle of your biceps to stand you up. You barked softly, and something was shoved onto your head. His hat…his new cowboy hat that he got. "My newest officer…" His thumb slid across your chin to tip it up, smearing the blood there, and he lifted you up into his arms. He would've smelt awful if you were anywhere cleaner, the sickly horrific smell that doused everything was worse than his weekly showered body.
You didn't know where he was taking you, passing by the elevators that usually took you away with the others. His boots crunched over broken glass and broken bodies, shifting you higher until you were thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your feet kicked just a little at the new position and he slapped your ass to make you stay still.
"I'm taking you to bed pup." He always read your mind. Warmness spread in your chest and belly, a tiny smile coming to your lips. If you had a tail, you would've been wagging it.
The door was kicked in and you were dropped on your ass on his bed. Moth bitten, with cigarette burns and stains. So comfy, you could get used to this. His room was small, but his, bits of personality sprinkled throughout. Leland walked in the darkness around you, mumbling and huffing a little. There was a clink of a lighter as he lit a cigarette and put it in his mouth. You whimpered and he paused. "Oh don't whine, I'm happy." It was nearly a growl. "You did so well."
Your eyebrows pinch together, as he looms over you. You didn't fight, your chest rising and falling, breath stuttering. Leland's hand found your wrist, and then your other wrist, cool metal cuffs slid together, locking into place. He dragged you up into a sitting position and put your cuffed hands over his bed post so you couldn't rip away. "I think you deserve a treat for being such a good dog."
He fixed his hat on your head, his lips plunging onto yours. They were rough. You opened your mouth and Leland took the opportunity to push the smoke into your throat. Acrid and burning, it was a fire in your chest that begged to be released. When he pulled away, you coughed and spasmed. Vomit rising into your throat for just a moment before you swallowed it down. Nicotine made your head all woozy. "So cute…" He murmured. "Look at me honey."
You stared up at his eyes as he pulled your legs apart. You were always naked, something Leland liked to comment on at all times. "Public indecency is a crime…" And you flushed. He chuckled under his breath, staring at your weeping cunt. His cattle prod was laying on the bed beside you, you had finally noticed because he ceased his staring to glance at it. His hand left your thigh to grab the handle, the prongs glinting in the low white light outside the windows. "It'll fit. Don't fuss."
The end dropped to the apex of your thighs and you tensed. The sensation of electricity rushing through your body, seizing your muscles as you twitched and writhed— 'danced on the lighting' as he liked to say. Your pleading eyes looked up but he wasn't paying attention to your expression. The first prong touched the twitching flesh, pushing it aside so the others could sink into your hole. His fingers spread you open, gentle groans leaving his mouth as he pushed it in inch after inch. His thumb hovered over the 'on' button and you clenched down on the metal. "I can't fit it in if you tighten your pussy." He nipped at your thigh and you suddenly loosened.
It suddenly stretched at the wide part, slick spilling out over the edges and dropping onto the bed. You whined, hands ripping down on the cuffs. Your pussy finally enveloped the metal part, and it pushed cooly against your pulsing g-spot. His thumb slid away from the on button to tap against your twitching clit and you cried. "Imagine me turning this on…shocking you up to the womb."
You shuddered at the idea and his thumb slid back to the on button. "It'll only hurt for a moment." Fire shot up your sensitive flesh, burning into the gentle buttons and spots on your inside. Your cervix flared and an inhuman pained noise ripped from your chest. He took a drag, locking his lips over yours and pushed the smoke into your throat. You choked, coughed, screamed. Your stomach clenched and spit spittled on the sides of your mouth.
He turned it off and your lungs finally started working again, your pussy aching and burning around the suddenly warmed metal. "Jesus Christ, look at you." You noticed the blood smeared on his beard, his tongue sliding over to taste it. Your tongue lolled out to lick away what was left over from your meal. The little moment ended with another sharp electrocution slamming into your cunt, the pain spreading down in your thighs and vomit burned up into your tongue, filling your mouth until you swallowed it down and cried. His thumb pushed into your clit, pulling the hood back meanly and rolling it between his thumbs. "C'mon, embrace it. It hurts, so good doesn't it?"
You writhed and cried out, wrists slicing open on the sharp metal cuffs. and it turned off with a gush of your slick. Your stomach clenching and your pussy twitched. He sighed in pleasure, pulling it out. You whimpered at the wide part and then it slid out with a trail of cum and blood. The smell of burnt flesh perfuming the air for a few moments.
His hand found your bloody wrists, pulling them off the bed post and setting you down on his mattress. He roughly kissed your jaw and nipped. "Good girl."
cw/tw: csa, graphic descriptions of assault, ptsd, self harm, general angst
wc: 3.1k
author note: this is an older fanfic I wrote that I’m reuploading cause I was really proud of it! I’m not well versed in angst so this was really tough and I’m happy with the results
The florescent lighting of the bathroom made everything stark clear and hospital like. The linoleum flooring was cold. The shower curtain was open but the water wasn't running. Illyana was supposed to get into the shower 20 minutes ago, but there was that pull again. She glanced down at her hands, gripping the edge of the counter before trailing up to glance in the mirror. 'I'm disgusting.'
Her eyes closed, shaking the thought away—or at least trying to. But where one peered it's ugly head up, ten more popped up. Her palms pressed to the front of her eyes, pressing and pushing till her eyeballs burned in pain. Ten more thoughts drug itself out of the sludge. 'He'll always be there. Inside of you. Changing you.'
What she would do to have you here next to her in the bathroom. To tell you all the horrible things that happened. What would Illyana even say? 'How do I say it?' She tried to find some sort of answer to the question burning in her brain. Sit you down on the bed, hold your hand and let it spill? You'd find out eventually, is it too late to tell you or would waiting make it worse? 'She would hate me. I lied to her. I'm horrible.'
Her eyes burn, 'Im so tired'. Her eyes meet in the mirror again, her nose was flushing red. She didn't look young, she had grown into herself. She was a woman. She'd been a woman for a long time. Her hands found her body. Her waist that tapered in, cupping up to the breasts that forcefully budded themselves out when she came back from that place. To her hips. To her thighs. Her fingers dug in. Squeezing, feeling. There was sharp muscle everywhere she touched, not an inch of fat. Where did her fat go? Where was her baby face? When she looked in the mirror, 'Why am I not seven?'.
A sob breaks the sound barrier and her hand slams over her mouth to shut it up.'Oh god, no please.' She gazes to the door, waiting, in bated breath for someone to come outside. Tensed up for a knock. Her other hand slides around her chest, hiding it. 'Like that'd change a thing. I didn't have these when he made me filthy.'
"Stop it." Like whispering was going to help the matter. Illyana sunk down, knees buckling as she gripped the counter. Her bicep flexed. How many times did she train in fear? How many? When did it start? When did she stop training for strength and start training for tragedy? She meets her eyes again. 'It's still me. Is it?'
'I'm still me?'
'I'm still her.'
'Where did the time go?'
'I'm older than I should be.'
Her eyes glance down at her chest, her stomach in knots. That shouldn't be there. Nothing should be there. She should be dead. She wished he'd kill her. Innocent and beautiful still.
She turns on the shower. Scalding hot water plumed steam into the bathroom, the mirror fogging up immediately. At least she didn't have to look at herself.
The water burned into her skin. Pale turning quickly to pink. It hurt, her fingernails digging into her skin so she wouldn't flinch away from the spray. 'Clense me. Make him go away'
'Bring the real me back' A sob left her lips. She didn't choke it back this time. Salty tears burned as they fell down her cheeks. Illyana's shoulders shook, trembling as he hands hit her knees, and her knees hit to the floor. She can't breathe, why can't she breathe? 'He's here. He's hurting me. He's going to hurt me again.'
"Illyana? You've been in there for a while." Your voice flutters out through the door and she chokes. Her nose burns and her eyes widen.
"I am fine. Sidetracked. Go to bed." Her tone was commanding. And some sick thing curled up in her chest when the door was pushed open.
"Gotta brush my teeth sorry." She hears the drawer open and the sink run. Her claws dig into the linoleum. The curtain wouldn't protect her from you. You could throw it open. Hurt her. Like every sick fuck in her life, you weren't going to be anything different. She caught her gaze in the metal bath faucet and she paused. 'To think that about my own girlfriend. I really am a disgusting ungrateful brat, aren't I?'
"Get out." She snapped, suddenly. The words just got away from her. She stops when you pause, taken aback by her tone.
"Whats wrong?" You turn to glance at the shower curtain, touching it gently as you whisper. "Yana, baby, talk to me."
Her jaw clenches at your saccharine tone. At the words you used. At you. At filthy you. Her heart felt like it was being pulled apart. You didn't understand, she couldn't tell you. She could never give you what you wanted, her body. Her tainted body. Her breasts, her waist, her thighs, her pussy. They were tainted, destroyed, she'd ruin you with everything that ruined her. 'Dont look at me. Don't touch me. Don't kiss me. Disgusting disgusting disgusting. Whore. Whore. Whore. Whore.'
"Nothing. Fuck, can I have a bad day for once? Without you trying to get in my personal space?"
"I'm sorry." You deflate, taking a few steps back. "I'll come back later." You quickly make your way out of the bathroom. Illyanas nose burns, again, throat closing. She can't breathe. She can't breathe. A gasp leaves her, turning now into sobs. 'Look at what you do…look at what you do to the people you love.'
Her fingers find her chest, clawing at the skin. They drag up her shoulders, to her back, down her arms. Her hand shoots out to turn the water hotter. Steam blooms out of the shower head, boiling her skin. She cries out in slightly pain, sinking down as it cascades down her lower back and to her feet. 'You hurt everyone you love. You deserve to be hurt too.'
Her chest heaves, a deep aching spreading throughout her body. She claws, maybe if she can break open her chest, the pressure will ease. It'll make it go away. All the sickness can spill out.
She turns the water off. She slips her hair off her back, wet and heavy on her side as Magik sinks down against the white porcelain. Her sobs are gone, stepping out as if nothing happened. A fluffy towel wrapped around her body, sheilding it from the outside world. From her own gaze. From his.
She didn't look at her body when she got dressed. She didn't look at the deep red scratches she left, certain ones bubbling up with red bloody lines. She didn't look at her developed body. She didn't look at the hot welts forming on her lower back. She covered it all up, and she was good again. And there was nothing wrong.
Magik finds herself in bed, you were there waiting for her with furrowed brows but she didn't speak so you didn't either. The truth was, there was something wrong. The look in your eyes made it abundantly clear that her slip up was noticed. That no amount of pretending was going to wash it away. But you still didn't speak, her body tucking itself under the covers. 'I scared her. Im just like darkchylde.'
Your hand reaches out, maybe she just needs a bit of cuddling. But she jerks away at your touch, face contorting in anger. "Did- did I do something?" You finally settle on.
"No." You did do something. You loved her. You treated her like a person. You kissed her, and groped her, and expected some form of sex in the future. Something she couldn't possibly give you.
"Illyana, please, tell me what's wrong."
"What's wrong?…what's wrong?!" She sits up fast, whirling around to you as she huffs in anger. "You don't have a clue what it's like, do you wanna know what he did to me?! Do you wanna know that—" she cuts herself off; the word suddenly caught in her tight throat. 'Belasco raped me.'
The loudness in the room dies as you stare up at her in pure fear. Your eyes are wide, your biceps tensed as you lean away as much as your turned body could. And then she starts to cry. You hadn't seen your Yana cry in a long time. You touch her shoulder but she doesn't react, face twisting in pain. Her mouth opens, and she begins these deep heaving sobs. "Oh my sweet baby…" you whisper in her ear, cradling her face in your shoulder. "Tell me, it's okay."
"I can't give you what you want." She finally manages, your voice high pitched and barely audible to her gasps and cries. "I can't fuck you. I can't do this. I can't love you, not when I'm like this."
"Shhh, no no, it's okay." You kiss her forehead, her temple, down her face. She refused to stop crying. She was breaking in your arms and nothing you were doing was going to help. "Why can't you fuck me?"
"Are you seriously asking me that? You…selfish bitch." Illyana pushed away from you, before the realization of what she said fully sunk in. That's all everyone ever wanted. Wanted her body. 'You let sweet words get to you again Yana. Thought I learned my lesson last time. Thought I learned that I wasn't made for love.'
"Illyana what the hell?!" She never called you that before. Never. Where was the Yana you loved? Who was this woman? You grasp for her, hands reaching out to bring her back. Bring your sweet girl back but she hisses and spits like a cat.
"Don't fucking yell at me!" And like that she was gone. In a flash of black and yellow and reds, with the smell of brimestone ash and her magic still in your bedroom. She was gone from you. And you didn't know if she was gonna come back.
Limbos hot embrace cradled Illyana's body, hot claylike ground underneath her hands and knees. The sky was a black pool, fumes of smoke and fire lighting up the horizon. It smelt of blood, ash, pain. The comfort of familiarity. The place she passed between disks, what she met when she closed her eyes to sleep. It was still there, always will be. Just like he'd be there with her.
Another sob wracks her body, vision blurring with tears. She swallowed back her noises, sitting there in fatigue. The rush of fired rivers played in her ears. She missed Storm, in the other place, with the tree. She missed the smell of flowers, the feeling of the sun. 'I don't deserve it.'
'I left her. Storm…Nightcrawler. They died, because I wasn't strong enough. Because I'll never be strong enough.' Magik clutched at her biceps, at the false power she'd given herself. All the grueling hours she spent training felt like nothing in a place like this. What was a punch going to do again a demon like Belasco? It wasn't like her fighting back changed what he did to her. As she sobbed and begged, smaller than she was now, desperate to push him off. He did not stray from atop of her, his fingers dug into her mouth, down her throat to gag her. Illyana covered her mouth, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as she tried to breathe through the faux feeling. His sharp nails digging on the ridged back of her throat, the muscle of her tongue struggling and spasming. Her face scrunching as tears spilt over her cheeks. Warm. It caught in the seam of her mouth. Salty. Her tongue dragged over her lips, her thoughts coming to you. You'd never seen Limbo, you probably never would. You were untouched by it. Clean from it. 'Maybe that's the only reason I loved her. I loved her because she didn't remind me of what was my past. God, I'm selfish…'
She didn't love you for being clean, there was more than that. She couldn't have, she wouldn't have let you in so deeply if she felt that way. Why did she love you? Why couldn't she think of the reasons why? Limbo sucked all the love out of her, all the life, why should she love you? You weren't different. You weren't special. She shouldn't have ever let you in. 'All alone. She thinks it's her fault when it's really mine. I make myself a problem, don't I?' Red hot anger filled up her body, her skin felt too contained. Illyana's mouth opened and a scream left her— hard and full of rage— utterly pathetic. The voice that was just a whisper began to grow louder. "NO!"
'They wont hurt me if I am you. We are one.'
"no…"
'You know it is true. You cannot deny the truth no longer Illyana. I am you. You are me. We are one.'
"Go away."
'You know that is an impossible request. Let me in. And no one will hurt you again.'
The voice grew louder, more reasonable. Crescendoing with a high pitched reminder. Belasco ruined her, everyone knew it, so why pretend that it wasn't true? Why pretend she was something that she wasn't? If she closed her eyes, for just a second, she would feel better. It hurt, for just a second, and then it washed away with a dark wrong feeling. And Illyana was small again, curled away from what the actions of her ego were doing now.
The flames of self loathing guided her sword. The souls, dirty and filthy, collected on the blade. Blood dripped from the metal, splattered over her cheeks, but she did not care. Darkchylde reached forward, claws wrapping around some lower imp, tearing into flesh. Why should she care about such a lower life form? She was a Goddess, a Queen, a thing they needed to learn to fear. They wouldn't hurt her if they feared her. It felt wonderful to be back in control of this vessel, to not be pushed away and feared by her human self. To be embraced for what she was.
"Yana!" The voice was a few yards away, smoke flying across the flat landscape. "Yana! Where are you?"
You. Your voice. Her gut clenches, what were you doing here? Your face, staring back across the haze, full of fear and innocence. You looked so wrong against the landscape, stumbling forward towards whatever your girlfriend had turned into. Her skin is now red in tone, white hair wild. Her slim frame had formed into something bulky, animalistic in the way she stood, contorted nearly like a satyr. Horns jutted out and curved around her head to under her jaw, the base following her brow bone. Darkchyldes features forced its face into a permanent glare. 'How did she follow me?'
"Illyana.." You make it within a 5 foot radius of her, your girlfriends tail swipping back and forth like an unhappy cat. You had never seen her other side, and it was a lot scarier than you expected it to be— but you weren't going to leave her alone to deal with this.
"Darkchylde." She corrected, hand gripping on her sword. The imps were weak, filthy, your soul was enticing. A new thing to feed from. Illyana felt this, knew this, and wanted to come back, make it end. 'Don't hurt her.'
'No.'
She lunges for you, but you don't move, your feet stay planted. You needed to time this, or you'd die, and Illyana would blame herself into her own death. You couldn't let her ruin herself like this. The blade comes up, slamming towards where you once stood. And in the next, your hands embraced around her neck. The smell of gore and sweat filled your nose but you didn't recoil. Your voice came back in a broken tone, sobbing into her shoulder. "Come back."
Darkchylde stumbles back, her claws digging into your skin. The barrier breaks, blood welting up and dripping down your arms. The sword clatters to the ground, the swells of your mutation entering her mind. Empath, she nearly forgot about it in this place; your hands cupped her face as rows of calm and love filled up her body. Her rage, became your rage, her overwhelm was taken away. Both of your emotions tapper till they're shaky but manageable, Illyanas body slumping into your arms.
"Yana…It's okay.." Your hand pets the back of her blonde hair, smoothing out the frizz and fly-aways. She chokes again and you shush her, swaying her back and forth as your tips trail to her temple. You wanted to ask so many questions; why did she leave? Why couldn't she talk to you?
"It's not. It's not okay. I hurt you." She touches the white of your shirt now stained red from where it's claws dug in. "How could I have let this happen…"
She goes to move and you snap, grabbing her shoulder again. "Don't. Don't you dare run from me ever again."
Her eyes meet yours, before she stops trying to bolt, her hands trailing down to hold your own. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. I love you, all of you."
"You don't understand. I'm…wrong. On the inside. You saw it; I-" She chokes, stifling back another sob. "-I could have killed you. I cannot give you what you want in life, I cannot be a normal lover for you. You deserve better."
"Monsters do not regret things like that." You kiss the corner of her mouth. "I do not love you for what you can do for me. If we never have sex, I wouldn't care." You weakly laugh, wiping her cheek clean of blood. "We're mutants, Yana, will any of us ever be normal lovers?"
"Not like this…Not when I drag you into every hell I find myself in."
"Illyana. I want to go. With you. To your hells. Because I love you. And I can't imagine loving anyone else besides you. I do not fear what you are, I do not hate you for what you can't give me. I love you for the way that you can never stop eating, or the way you snark and backtalk everyone around you, or the way that you would do anything to help someone else. And the way you try to be so good despite having a past so bad. And you do not have to tell me everything, just come home to me. I cannot live waking up in a bed you used to be in."
Her forehead touches yours, kissing it with the faintest brush you nearly didnt feel it. "I love you. I'll come home."
tw/cw: mentions of alcoholism and being drunk, slight whump, sensual themes, fluff
wc: 1.3 k
Logan was an alcoholic, everyone knew it but no one really had the guts to say anything about it to his face. He had been an alcoholic since…God only knows when, he was too young when he started and too old to remember his first drink. He was a rough man, he had seen too much in his time, no one really blamed the poor guy. He was a war vet, too many of his many lovers had perished, he was a superhero, and too many of his dear friends had perished too.
There was one thing he didn't mind though, one thing that got him off the bottle, was you. Beer didn't matter much when he had you around. Sweet, soft, beautiful. Lovely hands and legs and heart. Held him when he should've been holding a can of beer or maybe something stronger. In your bed instead of some bar. You didn't touch much alcohol, rarely had it in your house, so he was forced to make a choice between you and the drink. And Logan knew if he chose the drink at any moment, you'd never let him live it down.
He had never expected to find you in a state of inebriation, he never expected you to even drink that sorta shit. You had left to go to a bar, with some friends, a nightclub more like it. Bars were more of Logans crowd, the younger prettier girls went to clubs. He had expected you to be the designated driver, not have one of your other friends drop your drunk ass off at his doorstep.
You were sat there, slumped over, your head cradled on your knobby knees that were tucked up to your chest. Your pouty soft lips in a frown. You were disheveled, a mess in all sense of the word. And utterly gorgeous. "Hi Lo…" You slurred out, toeing the line between regretful and blackout.
"Hello to you to, Bub." Logan gruffed out. His warm calloused hands, rough from decades (centuries?) of work, closed around your biceps and brought you to wobbly feet. "C'mon, get inside before you get a cold."
He sighed disappointingly when you sighed of pleasure, it was so cold outside. And in your skimpy little club outfit, it was much colder. And Logan was warm…so, so warm. And strong too. Some soft animal part inside of you purred at the sensation of your body against his chest, his hands gliding down under your butt to lift you up once he sensed your legs failing. "M'sorry." You slurred, warm moist breath hitting his neck. You smelt like tequila, and his nose wrinkled just a little.
"You stink of sugar and alcohol." He nipped, playfully before setting you down gently in the bed. It smelt like him. The animal part of yourself curled up, and your body followed. He didn't mean it to be mean, you knew he liked how you smelled whenever. And you knew especially now because his nose was stuffed in the crook of your neck.
"Did I scare you?" You finally whispered into the darkness. The warm lamp provides little low-light in the night set room. The curtains were opened, just a tad, like he had been looking out of them earlier. Like a worried mother, wondering when her teenage daughter would come home.
"A tad. I tried calling you but you didn't answer. Nearly stormed to that club myself and got your drunk ass home." Logan pressed a warm kiss to your neck and then your cheek. You turned, twisted more like it, to meet his own. A soft apologetic kiss, no tongue, nothing sensual. Logan would never have sex with you if you were drunk, so you didn't try.
His hands met your top, and your skirt, and peeled them off your form. He stared, appreciatively, and then sighed. Hands leaving your body for a moment. You whimpered, a little pathetic sound. Your eyes cracked open to see him grabbing a shirt out of the closet. His hands returned, a small smile growing on your cheeks as he slipped one of his shirts onto your body. It was too big, wide and too much fabric, but it was toasty. He kissed both of your eyelids to make them close and then laid you back down on the pillow. "Sleep, Bub."
"Ok." You felt him settle down beside you on the bed, wrapping his strong arms around your body in a warm embrace. So comfy… "I'm gonna get such a killer migraine tomorrow." You nearly groaned at the remembrance of a hangover.
"We have painkillers. And cold pizza." Logan offered, rubbing the jut of your hip. You snorted and then giggled, rolling over so your chest was to his.
"M'sorry I got drunk." You slurred, lips lazily dragging over whatever skin was in front of you. It was too dark to see and you were too tired to care. His hand settled on the back of your head, fingers sinking into your hair and his own lips met your forehead.
"Don't apologize. How many times did I come home drunk, begging for you to forgive me hm?" Logan whispered. He didn't have to whisper, but it was instinct so late and with such a gentle thing in his arms. How many times had he screwed up with you? Too many to count. Too many to forgive. But you still did, every time you did. A gentle wave of regret washed over his heart, he didn't deserve your endless sea of patience and tolerance. When he cried the names of previous loves in his fitful nightmares, the times he woke you up. How he manhandled you when he got jealous, spat and tried to fight those who were likely only being friendly. God, he was a fuck up-
You sensed his thoughts, and your hand found his thrumming pulse and then pressed a kiss to it. "Stop it, Lo. Stop thinking like that."
"Thinking like what?"
"Don't play dumb with me." You pushed back. "I love you. And…I'm so sleepy." Your head slumped.
"Then sleep. I'm sorry. I know you love me. And I love you too." He finally shut his own eyes, but his insecurity had him holding you just a little bit tighter.
You were very much right. The migraine you suddenly developed once you woke up was killer and would likely ruin any chance of having a good day. You refused to open your eyes, a soft groan leaving your parched chapped lips. It was a dull throb in your spinal cord that spread around your whole cranium, sharp stabs flaring everytime you so much moved your head.
"Regretting the alcohol now hm?" Logan softly chuckled from somewhere in the room. You couldn't see, you were too scared of the pain, so you lifting your limp hand and flipped off the whole of the bedroom. Logan laughed at that too. "Open your mouth, ahh."
You stretched your mouth open, two tablets pressing against your tongue and the cool splash of water helping them go down. You hummed, his hand stabilizing your jaw. "Thank you." You barely spoke, only breathed it out.
His lips met yours for a moment, and your hand slipped to his muttonchops. You couldn't shift your head, a spike of pain solidly slamming into your brain when you tried. He noticed the hiss, and stabilized your head more as he shifted his own to fit. He pulled away too soon, standing up fully. It was too cold without him, and he tossed another blanket on top of you when you made a complained sound. "I have work hun."
Hun…he only used that when he felt real gentle. Back when you had mono, and every limb hurt and you were too feverish to even understand what was going on…He had called you hun for the first time. Too scared to touch you because your body ached so much, watching you wilt and writhe and cry out in fear. It made your stomach warm, more than the alcohol ever did because it climbed up into your chest and made your heart clench. "Ok. Goodbye."
He gave you a final kiss and closed the door to let you sleep.
