Florence - Chapter Six
You and Peter tell MJ the truth about the fashion show debacle. Bachelor/bachelorette parties are held the next day, Peter learns what was bugging Harry so much, and you and Peter start getting distracted by each other (in a particularly lustful fashion). The day after that, there's a massive heatwave and it's only one more night until Harry and MJ's wedding.
Some horny stuff, lavish partying, protective!Logan, mutual pining, lots of mushy feelings and fluff, lots of texting through out events, first kiss (kind of!)
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MJ’s hard to find. Peter is not even especially focused on finding her, because he’s trailing his hands around you after what just happened, and you are not really inclined to tell him to stop.
You ask around the party- most people assume that MJ is with Harry, but Harry isn’t with her, and her parents are too busy dancing to answer your question, even if you say it’s somewhat urgent.
MJ’s sister laughs when you ask her. “She’s very shy sometimes. Probably hiding away in her bedroom.”
“But MJ’s kinda loud and crazy.” Peter remarks, not in a mean way, just pointing out how your friend can be really out there. “What do you mean shy?”
“She has her moments.” Gayle answers, and you don’t think that’s true.
Just as you thought, MJ’s not in her bedroom either, but as you and Peter exit, holding hands as you’ve become accustomed to, who else would be in the corridor, waiting for the bathroom to open up, other than your father?
The implication is not lost on you. How it looks like you two have just stolen each other away in a corner of the house during the party, taking each other as lovers in horny secrecy- and there’s a little too much evidence proving the fact, you with your still messed up hair, Peter with his partially unbuttoned shirt, the drunken air of heat around you two- and you both just came out of a bedroom.
You feel a little embarrassed before remembering that you are twenty-six, and Logan can’t exactly punish you for something you didn’t do, and even if you did do it, you’re totally allowed to. You’re not a stupid, unwary teenager- despite what Logan thinks, Peter did not take advantage of you.
Peter is kind of loosely gripping your hand, and you think he’s going to let go, probably out of fear that your father will kill him- and you hold his hand a little tighter, refusing to let him go.
“Hey, dad.” You say kind of breezily, a little wary of Logan’s eyes flickering from your intertwined hands to your face. “Do you know where MJ is?”
“Ah… Little Wolverine.” Logan’s voice is laced with tenderness as he stares at you, and his face is battling some girl-dad extremes right now- he wants to protect you and be there for you all at the same time, and he doesn’t want Peter anywhere near you, not after how you experienced such heartbreak not so long ago- but he lets it slide for now. He can see that you’re not willing to talk about it right now, and Peter’s staring at the ground with a guilty expression that Logan can’t help but feel a little bad about.
Sure, Peter’s got his hands on Logan’s only daughter- but he’s still one of your best friends, and Logan always thought he would like if you ended up with him, because Peter was another bright kid, a cute scamp that Logan thought wasn’t nearly as annoying as all the other boys that had no right to be near you. He’s seen the both of you grow up together- how could he not be a little bemused about the whole thing?
“I think I saw her heading into the bar.” Logan states, and you nod and pull Peter alongside you, while Logan stares at you, wondering when you had to grow up and wishing he could just prevent you getting hurt.
/
Sure enough, MJ is in the bar, trying to carry like three different bottles of champagne on her own- Peter is quick to grab one as it’s falling and you grab the other that’s still in her arms.
“Ooh, that was close.” MJ pants, and rests against the counter. “There could’ve been bubbly everywhere.”
“Don’t worry, Peter would’ve caught all of them if that happened.” You know very well about Peter’s weird uncanny ability to catch things that are falling, or sense when things are coming towards you- he’s pulled you out of the way of random people several times, despite never seeing them.
“That’s true. Peter once pulled Gwen out of the way when she almost tripped over the balcony. I think it was in your guys’ first year of uni? I was visiting.” MJ comments, and you realize you weren’t there, because you were starting to refuse Peter’s invitations downtown to ESU.
It’s not like campus was that faraway, but you couldn’t handle it at the time. Now you feel sad that you missed out on something. And a little stupid.
“Really?” You ask. “I wasn’t there, what exactly happened?”
“Ah… if I remember correctly, Gwen was crying about something that happened during class.” Peter starts, and recognition seems to fall on him. “Oh, right. She thought she was about to lose her scholarship.”
“Yeah, poor girl was crying and blubbering- you know when you cry so hard you can’t breathe? That was her.” MJ nods, pursing her lips as she thinks it over. “I don’t think any of us realized how close she was to the edge. Except for Peter.”
Peter looks sheepish. “It was just an instinct, you know? I heard her foot stumble, and the sound of the wind- her back was leaning over the edge when I pulled her back.”
You imagine Gwen shrieking, her platinum blonde hair flowing in the autumn wind as she teetered for a moment, only to be cut off as Peter’s hands grabbed her. How terrifying- Gwen could’ve died.
You say as much, and MJ nods.
“It was really scary. She held onto Peter for a while, and he was really nice about the whole thing.” She gives him a soft squeeze of the hand, and you feel like Peter’s actually just so… sweet.
It’s something you’ve always known, but thinking about it now, you really know that you love him. You love that Peter always seems to be thinking for others, even if he can arguably be a bit dense about his own feelings- you could never say that Peter didn’t put others first, that he always tried his best to make everyone feel a little better.
It’s funny how little realizations like this can just strike you. You know Peter and MJ aren’t aware of how you feel on the inside right now, but some part of you wishes you could stay in Florence with Peter forever. Stay in this moment of being next to him, and being in love with him as he is, and not having to worry about the rest of the world.
“You’re a good person.” You say, and Peter gets a funny smile on his face.
“You say that like it’s surprising, Howlett. But thank you.” He ruffles your hair, and MJ grins at the two of you. “Another good-person thing incoming: me and Howlett have some news about your Dior contract.”
“Oh, really?” MJ leans forward, placing the bottle back on the counter as she sits on it. “What is it?”
“Bucky and Elektra were the ones behind the email. They never actually told Dior that you were misusing funds, which is fair because Dior would’ve never believed them.” You explain, and MJ tilts her head, somewhat confused. “The entire thing was a sham. Sent by Bucky, probably based off of something that’s happening to Elektra… they sent you a fake email with a doctored balance sheet, for reasons I’m not sure about. Maybe to get back at someone who’s actually in Dior’s good graces?”
“A fake email?” MJ’s mouth is agape, and she scrolls through her phone, and you watch as the power of a thousand suns suddenly light up inside her eyes. “A fake fucking email?!”
“MJ-”
“No. No. That’s literally so-” MJ starts cursing, things you would never repeat to your own mother if she somehow made an ill-advised appearance in your life again. “God, I spent literal weeks if not months worrying and crying about this- it made me feel anxious about the wedding stuff too- and you’re telling me it was basically an elaborate prank? I would’ve just not shown up to New York Fashion Week and then shit really would’ve gotten real!”
It’s starting to make sense to you now. Bucky and Elektra would somewhat benefit from less competition if MJ was blacklisted from Dior’s shows, especially because she dared to just not come after being given the privilege of modelling for them.
She jumps off her seat at the counter, grabbing your shoulders, and you’re taken aback, sputtering in the face of MJ’s rage. Peter hoists her a bit away from you, or at least- he tries to, his arms coming up under hers, and he’s dangling her up in the air, but MJ has a lot of strength, especially when she’s upset, and her fingers hurt a little as they tighten and squeeze around your shoulders.
“Lettie. Tell me right now. Should I kick them out? Is there potential for them doing worse since they’re here?” MJ huffs out, and you breathe a sigh of relief that MJ isn’t actually upset at you.
“Considering Bucky had his hands all over Howlett earlier, I don’t think there’s any lower you can get.” Peter mutters, clearly still kind of pissed over that. His jaw clenches with tension, and then he finally pulls MJ aside, and she stands, crossing her arms.
“Sorry, Lettie. Bucky really can be creepy, but I thought he would know better at a wedding.” She rolls her eyes. “That does it- I’m uninviting them.”
“Now?” You ask, but MJ is already walking towards the backyard entrance, and you and Peter give each other a look before following her. “Wait- MJ, hang on!”
“What?” She stops for one moment and Peter shakes his head.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks gently, and MJ inhales, her chest puffing up, red anger spreading from her heart to her face.
“Of course I want to do this! I feel like killing them, how could they- how could they do that to me? I’m sick of being nice to assholes.” MJ breaks into a brisk run, but you grab her arm, and get yanked forward as you do your best to stop her.
Models and their long legs- Peter swallows a laugh as he watches you, with your shorter stature, attempt to pull back MJ, and he easily helps you just by holding her other arm.
“MJ, listen. Think carefully.” You whisper to her, and she’s still upset but she is listening. “You have a lot of potential notoriety if you kick them out now. There are people everywhere- other models invited, networking people, hell, even Harry’s tech corporation people. You could be infamous for the wrong reasons, and not everyone knows about the email thing.”
“But… But I…” MJ sighs, knowing that you’re right. “God, for just once in my life I wanted to give it to them. I wanted them to feel like they were tiny, small, like I did for the last few weeks. And they really, really deserve it.”
“You can still do that.” Peter remarks, but he looks upset, and rightfully so that MJ had had such a hard time. “Just do it when there are no consequences to you.”
MJ takes it in, and after careful consideration, tells you guys what she thinks. “I’m going to keep them here- I want to be totally in control of how they find out that they’ll be banned from any proper fashion house shows indefinitely. After I tell Dior all about it, of course. Might as well take the high road for now so it all comes crashing down later.”
MJ sounds rather giddy, almost borderline evil, but you have to let her have it for once. The nicest people are the scariest when they’re pushed to their limits.
A chill breeze enters the Villa as she pulls you and Peter outside- the rest of the night is a blur of dancing, where you and MJ screeching songs in each others’ faces, relief about everything clearly making her mood a lot better than it was previously.
/
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, or when you managed to get back upstairs to your bedroom, but you wake up pretty late.
“What?” You murmur as you check your phone. It’s 4:00 PM. “Oh, fuck.”
You sleepily sit up, and surprisingly, you don’t have a hangover- but it’s probably only because you’ve slept so long. You wonder where everyone is.
Someone knocks on your door, and you tell them to come in. It’s Gwen, her trademark small smile and platinum blonde hair making you feel less tired already.
“Hey, Lettie.” She sits on your bed, and you feel kind of dishevelled for having slept so long. “I thought I’d come by to tell you to get ready.”
“Huh?”
“Oh. I guess you didn’t know?” Gwen plays with a strand of her hair, and looks apologetic. “Today is the bachelorette party, and the bachelor party, but of course we’re going to MJ’s bachelorette party. I hope you’re okay with partying even more- it’s at some swanky club.”
“Oh.” You yawn, and you shake your head. “Meh, whatever. It’s just one crazy week- for the rest of my life I’ll be super moderate and healthy.”
Gwen giggles. “It’s good to see you’re up to it. I can’t imagine what MJ would have said if you weren’t there.”
After a bit of showering and preening and cleaning yourself up, you’re given your bachelorette dress by Gwen. Natalia, Kitty, Wanda, Betty, and Gayle (MJ’s sister) are in your room as well. It’s nice to be with them- you remember Gayle is like uber responsible and she combs your hair back and zips you into your dress before you can even ask for help. Betty is pretty nice, but she’s always in a bit of a mood. Natalia, Kitty, and Wanda are actually a lot sweeter than you would’ve assumed- they only offer helpful tips on fashion and no one is out to criticize you.
You blankly wonder where Elektra could be, if she’s even invited to the whole affair. She must be- but perhaps she’s getting ready on her own. Perhaps MJ is slowly beginning to ice her out.
Everyone is giggling, gossiping, getting ready- and you feel like this is what sisterhood is all about sometimes. The intimacy of the beautification process is one that you’re not sure men understand. By the end of all the dressing up, accessorising, and makeup, everyone looks kinda matching. The style is glitz, sparkle, as much as you could possible adorn on yourselves- there are little gems glued on your face, sparkly highlighter everywhere, and everyone just looks glowing, ethereal, shiny. Like a bunch of fairies.
MJ’s bought eight matching dresses in style- bodycon, spaghetti strap dresses that are mid thigh length, accentuating your figure, and just bedazzled in a million tiny gems. Reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe’s infamous Happy-Birthday-Mr. President dress, just a lot shorter. Yours is in a burnt red colour that screams red hot spice- MJ’s is a deep, sultry midnight-blue, Betty is of course in black as usual, Gayle is in green, and Gwen is in a pretty plum. Kitty and Natalia are matching- they’re in a pretty opalesque seashell pink- and Wanda is in wine. Despite the colours ranging so wildly, the shimmer of the jewels on your dresses unify the lot of you.
“We look like a girl group.” You point out, and everyone flashes a silly pose. You take a picture of the eight of you- just for the memories and all that.
After just a second of deliberation, you post it to your Instagram story- it’ll be gone in 24 hours, and you haven’t been posting anything for the whole trip. Why not, right?
Peter responds to it almost instantly.
pbp replied to your story: not fair
pbp: you cant just post a picture like this and not expect me to come n see you
littlewolverine: it looks that good?
pbp: better than that. you look gorgeous
littlewolverine: what about everyone else in the picture peter
pbp: there are other ppl in the picture?
littlewolverine: omg stop lol
pbp: just kidding. Everyone looks great but u just drew my attention first. I LOVE the dress
littlewolverine: thank you :)
pbp: you should do full glam more often lol. Stop hiding in ur giant sweaters in your room
littlewolverine: I’ll do that if u do the same thing lol. Stop hiding ur muscles 👀 i saw them on the beach
pbp: ohhh so u were checking me out? if i had known that i would’ve built more muscle
littlewolverine: no no. you are fine the way you are, promise.
littlewolverine: so what are u guys wearing?
pbp sent a picture.
You open it, and it’s a picture of Harry, Peter, Bucky (!), Miles, and three tech bros you don’t recognize. They’re wearing fancy dress pants, button up shirts, and suspenders. Very sophisticated, old-money, Italian aesthetic.
littlewolverine: im surprised buck is there
pbp: that’s the first thing u have to say?? wow
littlewolverine: sorry. Are u sure you’re not secretly italian? How do u pull this off so well? Very hot 10/10 no notes. Love the suspenders too.
pbp: i think MJ is gonna let buck and elektra “have” the upper hand for now… and then destroy them later.
littlewolverine: wow that’s dark. But they deserve that
pbp: anyways thanks howlett. Wasn’t really feeling the look but u changed my mind. I think im gonna go become a part of that mafia aesthetic that the youth enjoy so much
littlewolverine: hahahaha
littlewolverine: you’ll surely become a top ten tiktok star or whatever it is. Idk either
pbp: we’re old as fuck.
/
Although bachelorette parties are fun, and you enjoy conversing and dancing with the girls- Elektra is the only one who’s a bit ostracized and she seems secretly panicked as to why- you spend most of the evening texting Peter. You can’t help it- he’s just that funny and annoyingly distracting.
pbp: uhhh there’s a stripper dancing on the bar counter now. howlett what do i do
littlewolverine: idk man, look at her, don’t look at her? Up to u really
pbp: but do i look at her bc i respect her as a person and im not shaming her for her work? Or do i not look at her bc i disagree with a world that has normalized female bodies as sexual objects, and has generally coerced women into feeling comfortable w that?
littlewolverine: uhHHhhhhhh. Okay ask her if she had no other choice but to become a stripper. And then decide from there, you wise philosopher lol
pbp: thanks for the advice. I think im gonna look away because she’s giving some of the tech bros a lap dance… and uhhhhh out of respect to u ofc
littlewolverine: whaaat. im chill w it
pbp: not to make u feel bad. but what about what happened w mj?
littlewolverine: that’s totally different, this is a random stripper. Feelings and best friends are way more heavy. I thought u were emotionally literate lol
pbp: so u wont mind if i get a lap dance from this lady?
littlewolverine: ah, u got me there. Okay, but only if im allowed to get one from some random male stripper
littlewolverine: I kid, i kid. I wont do that lol. Anyways its fine if you want to, its not like we’re official
pbp: omg
pbp: howlett come on i was joking too. Why tf would i do that?
pbp: and we’re not official YET. im not screwing that up for something stupid i dont even care about
littlewolverine: oh idk. I didnt want to screw up either lol. What if i was putting too much pressure on u to commit
pbp: I want to commit lol. Im waiting for the signal from u
littlewolverine: okay. Maybe when things are less busy. and we can actually be alone. then it’ll happen.
Peter sends a bunch of heart emojis and you feel your heart swell with warmth and all those gooey feelings that you swore you’d never feel again.
“You’re totally glued to your phone.” Gwen says as she sits next to you, taking a break from the dancing. She’s sweating a lot, and she takes a long drink of water.
“Ah, well… I don’t know. Maybe parties aren’t my thing.” You try to make an excuse, but Gwen gives you that smile, where she already knows what’s up.
“And Peter Parker is definitely your thing, right?” She jokes, and you blush but nod ever so timidly. It’s the first time you’ve really admitted that this is happening, and Gwen squees and hugs you.
“I knew it! You guys are so meant to be. Miles always said that you have chemistry with him.” Gwen confesses and you wonder if it’s just been that obvious to everyone else, all these years.
/
Peter, on the other hand, is being pulled into the dance circle by Miles, at their own respective party. He didn’t even get a chance to see you in all your glamour at the Villa, try as he might- everyone was ushered away before he could steal a moment with you.
He resists the urge to check his phone, and eventually, leans against the bar counter with Harry, who looks solemn.
“Hey, Har.” Peter tries to be gentle, because of his last rocky conversation together with him.
“Ah. Peter.” Harry wordlessly holds up his fist for a fist bump, which Peter gratefully does. “How’s the party for you?”
“It’s fine… I’ve spent most of the time texting Howlett.” Peter admits, and Harry laughs.
“Did I knock some sense into you?”
“...Maybe.” Peter grimaces and then laughs. “Okay, yeah. I needed to hear it- that I wasn’t treating her right.”
Harry nods, and then decides to be honest. “Actually. I needed to hear some harsh truths from you, too. I was kind of ignoring MJ and what she wanted. And it wasn’t all perfect and fixed until you said something.”
Peter shrugs. “You would’ve fixed it anyways. What happened?”
Harry pauses. “I think I was getting too preoccupied with Oscorp. Dad is really on my ass about taking it seriously, and I am, I just… I didn’t talk to MJ for a bit because I thought she’d freak on me about it. Sometimes we argue about who’s doing what correctly and I just kinda ghosted her about it.”
“Hey, at least you talked to her about, right?” Peter feels bad. “Sorry that I made you out to be some sort of serial cheater. I just remember in high school, and even college, you kinda used to be on-and-off with MJ a lot.”
Harry snickers. “Yeah, that wasn’t very healthy of me, was it? But we got over that a while back. MJ told me if I was really, truly serious about her, I wouldn’t keep leaving her hanging like that, and she had a point. I couldn’t imagine being without her- and that’s why I wanted you to do the same thing with Howlett, you blind idiot.”
“I knew that couldn’t be your own knowledge. MJ really taught you everything, didn’t she.” Peter comments and Harry immediately starts punching him jokingly, before letting go of his fist and admitting that it’s kinda true.
Peter coughs but he’s all good. He’s happy. He’s glad to have you, Harry, and MJ at his side again.
His phone beeps with another text from you.
littlewolverine: omg look at this
You’ve sent him a picture of a spider crawling up the wall, and the next picture is of it landing on Elektra, and the very last thing is a video of her running and MJ laughing in the background.
pbp: HAHAHAHA
pbp: serves her right i think
littlewolverine: bet she wishes she had a you to come and save her. Remember when we were fifteen and u had to come get rid of the spider in my washroom at the hotel?
pbp: remember??? You think ive forgotten that? you were still wearing your swimsuit and i think i spent the rest of that trip thinking about that
littlewolverine: omg noooo why? That was not a cute look on me… dad bought that bikini for me without consultation lol
pbp: teenage boys are really horny howlett. you think im gonna be picky when that was maybe the closest id ever been to a semi naked girl at that point? nah.
littlewolverine: wowww so you were only horny bc it could’ve been any girl??
littlewolverine: #blockedandreported
pbp: ok fine maybe it had something to do with you being the girl.
littlewolverine: Sent a picture.
Peter opens the picture and blinks- you’re becoming way more confident at teasing him, he can tell, and he feels heat rushing from his face to his neck and even further below that. It’s just you, in the washroom mirror of the club, except- just for this private intimate moment captured in this picture- you’ve pulled down your dress, straps and all, so your top half is showing. You’re still wearing your bra, of course, but this is the most erotically charged picture from you that he’s ever gotten, and he’s not thinking clearly anymore, not when he can clearly see your cleavage.
pbp: show more? Please?
littlewolverine: you can see it in person lol.
pbp: noooo faaaaiiiir. are u gonna walk out of the washroom like that? do i have to be jealous of everyone in the club?
littlewolverine: no you dumbass. this is a private picture just for u and i already pulled my dress back up.
pbp: im excited to pull it back down in person lol.
/
Unfortunately for Peter, the partying lasted until 2:00 AM, and by the time everyone made it back to the Villa, he was too tired to come sneak into your room and very possibly annihilate you with all this pent up lust he keeps feeling.
So now it’s Thursday. July 20th. One day before the wedding, meant to be a chill day of planning and preparing.
But it’s the hottest day of the summer so far, apparently. Almost 35 degrees celsius, or 95 degrees fahrenheit, which is just horrible.
The air conditioning is on max- everyone is sitting around various parts of the house trying to fan themselves, and yet, it’s not enough. The sweaty, sticky feeling is palpable- most people have gone shirtless at this point. You swear you can see the heat waves emanating through the air.
You’re wearing a big tee-shirt, loose cotton shorts, and a cropped tank top underneath the shirt for some modesty. You’re very close to just taking off your shirt.
Your dad is really complaining. He’s shirtless and lying face down on the tiles. “Kid. Throw some ice cubes on me, will ya?”
“Uhhh… okay.” You peel yourself off the leather couch, your bare thighs sticking to the hot cushions, and walk towards the fridge in the kitchen. Every step feels like more heat is wafting towards you and sticking to you.
Peter’s in the kitchen, and he’s putting his whole head inside a giant bowl of ice cold water. He sees you approaching and pulls his head out, water from his hair splashing over his bare upper body and the floor.
“Don’t you dare-!” You shriek, but to no avail, because Peter picks you up and shakes his wet hair all over you, and now you’re covered in water too.
“Isn’t that better, Howlett? You’re not as hot now, right?” Peter holds you close as you try to open the freezer for some ice. “Where are you going?”
“I’m trying to get away from you, you soaking wet monkey-” You dart under his arms and open the freezer.
“You’d probably feel less hot if you took off your shirt.” Peter slyly attempts to say, and you roll your eyes at how transparent he can be. “Not that I can’t already see through your shirt. Nice neon-green tank you got on there.”
“Ugh!” You take out the ice tray and leave it on the counter. “Thanks, Peter.”
You pull off your now see-through top, and Peter cannot ignore the way you’re glowing, little water droplets attached to your already flushed, sweaty skin, on the little bare stripe of your stomach that the tank top reveals, and he gets this impossible urge to just lean in and kiss you especially because your mouth is just agape because of the heat, and he wants to take your mouth for his own pleasure.
He leans in, and you look up at him- and Peter traces back your hair, and he feels increasingly frustrated that he hasn’t planted one on you yet, (the last time, he recalls with some amusement, is when you were both nine, and he doesn’t think that really counts because you fell on top of him over a sandcastle) so he pulls your face upwards and kisses you with a deep inhale, his lips gently-yet-firmly plying against your own, and it’s with immense satisfaction that Peter feels you kiss back, and he’s so glad he finally gets to know what it’s like to kiss you after fantasizing about it this whole week, and he feels that you’re so soft and sweet and he just wants to pull you further into his arms, and he’s just beginning to swirl his tongue against your own when he hears a very loud cough in the background.
You pull away sheepishly, your hair all dishevelled from Peter’s insistent hands, and grimace at your father. “Hey, dad…”
Logan takes the ice cubes that you apparently took to long to give to him, and starts rubbing them on his shoulders. His massive, muscular shoulders, Peter thinks with a gulp.
“Hey, kid. Just leave the room for a bit. Me and Pete need to have a chat.” Logan states, and you immediately turn apprehensive.
“Wait- Dad- It’s not Peter’s fault, if you’re gonna yell at him- you gotta yell at me too!” You cross your arms, and Peter looks towards the ground, feeling much younger than his 26 years of age. “I’m an adult woman. You can’t just-”
Logan goes up-bup-bup-bup and silences you, pushing you out the kitchen door and shutting it. You sit down on the tiles in frustration, and try your best to listen through the door.
“Peter. C’mere.” Logan sits at one of the barstools, and Peter follows, feeling an ominous level of dread. “I’m not gonna kill you for laying one on my daughter- that’s still her choice, even if I question her taste.”
“Oh.”
“But I’m not letting you off so easy.” Logan stares at his hands, and thinks about how you spent quite literally years being depressed over Peter, even if you wouldn’t say as much. “Listen. Lettie might’ve forgiven you for whatever happened between the two of you- but that kid is my whole life. This is the first time in a long time I’ve actually seen her happy.”
Peter nods, unsure of what he could say to that.
“But this comes at a price, alright? She’s happy, yeah, but you have no idea how upset she was without you.” Logan sounds rather pissed off and Peter flinches. “I better not see you using her and then leaving her behind again. Because I will come after you for that, even if Lettie tries to save your ass.”
“I won’t do that.” Peter responds almost immediately. “I’m not saying I wasn’t an idiot back then, but I would never do that. I really- I love her a lot. I just didn’t know it before.”
Peter has to stop himself from looking at Logan’s taken back expression, but he is surprised to find that Logan claps his hand on his back.
“And she loves you. At least I think she does.” Logan admits, and Peter wonders if you’ll ever tell him that. “I’m just saying. Don’t be stupid with my daughter this time around.”
“Yes, sir.” Peter replies, and Logan shakes his hand, before opening the door again.
You’re leaning against it, and you fall back against the tiles, before pulling yourself up in a rush.
“Dad? You didn’t beat him up?” You genuinely sound confused, and Peter starts laughing.
“He’s all yours, kid.” Logan ruffles your head, and you immediately start pestering Peter to explain what that means as Logan walks away.
Peter enjoys how you blabber on at him about your confusion and why Logan seems so okay with the whole thing, not that he was ever going to forbid you from dating someone, but he has his moments of being protective, and Peter wonders what he could say to answer your questions, maybe he could really confess his love for you as he had just accidentally done with Logan- but he decides to just lean in and kiss you again.
Maybe he’ll tell you later.
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"Logan and Creed escape, and talk about their happily-ever-after…"
its done. im moving on to other things. wow....1st fanfic complete.....after what? 3 months? goddamn i need to practice this shit. i have soooo many more i wanna write v_v;
read it under the cut too if u want⤵️⤵️⤵️
Leaving no room for risk, they rushed out to where Creed’s truck was parked.
Creed and Silverfox were the only members allowed vehicles. Silverfox being less cared for by the program, and Creed obviously not having a reason to leave as long as they kept paying him and ignored his…violent ‘mishaps’.
Creed opted for hiding out in one of his more casual homes, about a 3 hour drive out, which just so happened to be an old hunting lodge in the woods.
3 hours of listening to various homemade cassette playlists in Creed's stereo, 3 hours of Logan having an iron grip on Creed's hand as he fought off his inner paranoia that they were already being trailed, and 3 hours of Creed hoping he was making the right move.
The combined stress in the air faded as they drove up a discrete rocky driveway, Logan smiling at the sight of the lodge coming into view, illuminated by the truck's headlights.
“This actually yer’s or are we trespassin’ on some poor guy's shack?”
“It’s mine, didn’t kill nobody fer it either. Didn’t wanna give away the location of any of my good places so soon.”
They got out of the truck, Logan following Creed as he went to unlock the front door.
“An’ I prefer to keep my work an’ home separate. They’ll be on our tail soon, but since their best tracker ain’t around to help, I reckon that’ll give us some time.”
Logan smirked.
“Ya sure ‘ya didn’t pick this place cuz of me?”
Creed paused.
“...Was just the closest.”
…
Sniff sniff-
“ Partly cuz of you. I ain’t lyin’ though, it is the closest.”
----------------------------
Inside, it was clear the lodge was meant for one person.
The living room and kitchen were conjoined, the other 2 rooms being the bedroom and bathroom. Furniture was the bare minimum; couch, coffee table, television, a couple shelves. The walls had a couple posters, and several sets of antlers (presumably hunted by Creed's own hand).
Logan sat down on the couch as Creed started looking through the cupboards in the kitchen.
“Fuck, haven’t stocked up here in awhile…you good with beef soup?”
“Mm, sure. I’ll eat whatever.”
“‘Kay, comin’ up.”
Creed lit the stove and emptied the cans into two pots, leaving them to heat up as he went to join Logan on the couch.
A large arm wrapped around the smaller feral’s waist, pulling him flush against Creed’s side, Creed’s head laying atop his.
The blonde nuzzled his face against Logan’s mess of dark hair, breathing in deep.
“Yer hair always smells so good …nice an’ soft too…”
Logan chuckled.
“Were ‘ya always this affectionate an’ cuddly?”
Creed continued rubbing his face against the top of the other's head, beginning to purr.
“Ya make me like this. Make me soft . Yer a dangerous guy t’ be around.”
“Yeah, I bet I’m a real threat to yer tough psychopath reputation, bub.”
Logan reached a hand up to scratch Creed's cheek, Creed leaning into the touch.
“What’ll they think when they find out the scariest soldier in the force likes t’ purr like a big ol’ kittycat? ”
“Ain’t doin’ nothin’. This cat’ll kill ‘em ‘fore the thought leaves their mouth.”
“Hm, cute. ”
Creed gave a sharp nip to Logan’s fingers, snickering as the other flinched and pulled his hand away.
As Logan traced over the bite mark with his non-bitten fingers, he felt his mind slightly sober up from being lost in this whole…Creed thing.
He felt something , he just didn’t know why. Only a couple of days ago he was dead set on Silverfox, where’d all this suddenly emerge from?
And why did he already know it?
“...hmm…”
“Hm? What?”
“Just…so…we were…we were a thing before.”
“Yeah. You rememberin’ any o’ it?”
“No, nothin’ yet, just…familiar.”
“Well, that’s at least somethin’, I guess.”
Fer the best. Lots o’ shit I pulled that he’s probably better off not rememberin’…
----------------------------
They ate their midnight dinners directly outta the pot.
"We're gonna have to go back fer Fox an’ North at some point"
Shit.
Creed was hoping he wouldn't make that realization. Not so soon anyway.
"Naw, they love it there."
"They don’t . They hated it as much as we did."
"I loved it."
"Alright, as much as me, then. ‘Ya didn't get the same ‘special treatment’, so ‘ya don’t get a say in this."
"Cuz I didn't need it. I kick ass and don’t need t' be brainwashed into doin’ it."
" Hrmm ..."
"C’mon, let yerself relax fer a bit, yer a free man!"
"Creed-"
"Yeah, I know shorty, I know."
Creed gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, giving him a sincere look.
"We'll get ‘em out later, promise."
Sniff Sniff....
"...truthin'."
" Barely. But, if it'll help ya sleep at night,”
Logan snorted.
Hah, it’d take it a damn miracle fer somethin’ to help me sleep at night…
“-I'll see what I can do. Don't put yer money on me bein’ able t' pull this shit off twice, though.”
Creed nervously poked at the bits of beef and vegetables in his pot with his fork.
“Don’t even know if we’re really pullin’ it off once yet..."
Logan could sense the stress the other was feeling. Creed was always the plan guy, and he was damn good at improvising on the spot if they needed it, so he trusted in his ability to figure something out.
Still, they were under a lot more pressure than usual. This wasn’t just the usual live or die situation, this was the rest of their lives.
Logan put his now empty pot on the coffee table in front of them.
“Let’s not worry about all that tonight then. I’m sure they’ll manage without us fer at least, what, couple ‘o days?”
“Couple ‘o days now, huh?”
“Could use a real vacation.”
Creed’s pot joined Logan’s, Creed wiping his mouth with his hand, then wiping his hand onto his trousers.
“Maybe you could think up a way t’ spend it this time.”
“Hm. I might have some stuff in mind.”
Logan leans forward and presses his lips against the other's, kissing him slow and deep.
Creed hums contently, Logan's tongue helping to calm his nerves.
After they pull apart, Logan smiles up at him.
Creed affectionately bumps his shoulder against Logan's, returning the smile.
And it's the most comforting sight in the world.
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