#I can't believe chapter 7 is over | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingkat12 · 27 days ago

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roman's girl (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, oral sex, major fluff, public sexual activites, Roman is a tit guy what can i say

summary: after Roman finally confesses his feelings, will it be enough to subside your longing for the past? coming face to face with Letha might uncover the truth...

word count: 10,586 (my oh my)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8

a/n: i want to thank you all once again for the love y'all have given this series, it's absolutely mind-blowing😭 sorry for the wait, I LOVE YOU, and i hope you'll enjoy this chapter!!<33

This was certainly not how I had expected this night to go-- the turn of events truly hit me as Roman sat on the edge of my bed, hair still wet from the shower.

I couldn't believe he was my boyfriend. I couldn't believe it at all.

On top of everything, he looked gorgeous as always, especially in the moonlight. After he had gotten drenched from the rain, I had given him his sweater back and lent him the only pair of sweatpants I knew would fit him-- I had finally found a use for the pair I had bought the wrong size of at a sale.

Roman's green eyes followed me as I moved a few things around my desk. "You seem nervous," he said, a teasing tone about him. "Or are you just upset you couldn't hop into the shower with me?"

Huffing, I did my best not to laugh; I couldn't let him have this one. "My parents are still trying to wrap their heads around me having a boy over, so I think I'd give them a heart attack if they caught us showering together,"

Roman bit his lip, visibly amused. "I still can't believe I'm the first one," he said, tapping his fingers against my duvet. "You sure you haven't had any other guys in here? You can be honest."

"I am being honest," I leaned my back against the wall, watching him from afar. I was afraid that I'd jump him if I got any closer-- he was ridiculously hot with his fresh-out-of-the-shower look. "I haven't had anyone else up here. Ever. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Roman shrugged; "Cause you're cute?"

I didn't blink, staring back at him with a dumbfounded expression. He said it so nonchalantly, as though I hadn't been fighting for him to tell me his feelings for weeks. Now, it was easy. Easy. With a shy smile, I stepped away from the wall. "Really, now?"

Roman's signature smirk returned as he guided me between his legs, his hands kneading my waist as he looked up at me with his big, wanting eyes. "I'm just glad we're talking again," he murmured, his fingers slowly dipping beneath the edge of my t-shirt. "I've missed your snark."

It was impossible not to smile-- I brought my hands to his face, letting my thumbs brush over his eyebrows; "And I've missed you,"

Roman hummed, his eyes practically sparkling as his fingers continued to ghost over my skin in trying motions. "How badly?"

"Badly," My hands went up into his hair, watching as he keened against my touch. "You and your green eyes."

"My eyes?" It was clear that Roman struggled not to be visibly flustered-- instead, he opted to lift my t-shirt, leaning forward to press an endearing kiss against my tummy. Every touch, every kiss made me feel beyond adored. "What about them?" He pulled away, smirk still apparent. "You think they're pretty or something?"

"You know very well,"

"What? I know nothing,"

"Roman," Laughing, I leaned down to press my lips against his damp hair. "I don't need to spell it out for you."

He shrugged, his fingers rubbing circles into my sides. "Actually, I think you do. Especially after how you tortured me with spelling shit out for you this week,"

Truly, he had a point. I just hated that he was right. "That's different, Rome, that was a completely separate thing!--"

"Oh, just tell me my eyes are pretty, get on with it!"

Taken aback, I watched as Roman did his best to suppress a knowing grin, biting down on his lip as he stared up at me through his brows. Even now, he was painfully handsome-- I nearly melted into my hardwood floors. "Well, now I definitely won't,"

Groaning, Roman seemed to take that as a challenge; in a swift motion, he wrapped his arms around me and tackled me onto the bed. I let out a high-pitched squeak, completely caught off-guard; "You can't just!--"

"Tell me," Roman hooked his arms around my legs after getting in between them, yanking me towards him as he now hovered above me. I could only giggle at the sight of his plotting eyes, realizing my new boyfriend reminded me of the puppy I used to babysit in middle school-- eager to play.

I had to catch my breath after being manhandled like that; "What happened to your manners?"

"Manners?" he echoed, clearly holding back a fit of laughter. "What manners? I was raised in the forest with the wolves, don't you know?"

For fuck's sake-- I nearly lost face. "You can't just toss me around and demand to be praised!"

Roman hummed, the mischievous shimmer in his eyes only growing more bright. "Actually, I think I can toss you around as I please," He leaned down, pressing a wet kiss to my neck. "Or are you planning on fighting me, baby?"

I knew I was done for now. With the nickname, and all. "I could if I wanted to," I was aware that the shake in my voice didn't sound very convincing, and it eventually became glaringly obvious that I shouldn't have said that. I could tell with how Roman smiled against my neck, and the way his arms snaked around me in a tight hold; "I'd like to see you try."

No, no, no-- I wasn't about to have a playfight with a man standing tall at 6'4. There was no way in hell. "Well, I wouldn't want to hurt your ego when you ultimately lose," I mumbled, wrapping my arms around him. "Let's take it when you've had time to prepare."

That was the last straw for Roman, who finally burst out laughing; I followed shortly after. He propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at me with amusement sparkling in his green eyes; "That's very considerate of you," he said, gently nudging my nose with his. "But this means I can toss you around for tonight, then."

I was about to protest, but I suddenly felt tongue-tied-- something about the idea of being moved around like I weighed nothing, like I was his to boss around, did something to me. Something I couldn't put my finger on. "I, uh... Well-- My parents are next door,"

It dawned on Roman that I was right, and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth with the realization. "Damn it," he mumbled, humming as he leaned down to kiss me.

I sighed against his lips, the usual satisfaction coursing through my veins-- nothing could ever top this. Subconsciously, I wrapped my legs around him, wanting to pull him as close to me as possible. However, it seemed Roman had other plans; he disconnected our sweet kiss, shortly pressing one more against the corner of my mouth before propping himself up again. "But... you can stay quiet, right?"

My eyes widened just slightly-- I wasn't too keen on showing how nervous I was to hear that. "Depends," I breathed, reaching forward to tuck a few strands of his brown hair away from his forehead. "If you're talking about going all the way, I don't think that's the best idea with my parents on the other side of the wall--"

"No, no," Roman quickly interrupted my ramble, shaking his head. "Just a little... something. To celebrate."

My heart rate quickened as I felt my pulse rise; that could mean literally anything.

"Don't look so scared," Roman purred, pressing a short kiss to my lips-- it was embarrassing how little it took for me to unravel. "I'm not going to bite. I'm almost certain."

"What?" Almost?

Roman only chuckled, his hands now trailing up beneath my shirt again, ghosting over my skin with the touch of a feather. The softness of his fingers nearly left me shuddering, my lips parting at the sensation as I writhed just slightly-- I had to look away from his proud look, realizing my shirt was now bunched up right under my bra, leaving me exposed.

"I hope that being your boyfriend comes with some perks," Roman said, placing his palms against my waist to see how small I was compared to his hands. "Maybe you won't be so shy to let me touch you."

I could only blush-- he wasn't wrong. I still wasn't used to it. I wasn't sure how many times I had swatted his hands away, not yet allowing him to take all the liberties he wanted seeing as we weren't official. But now... everything had changed. Now that I knew where I had him, it felt easier to allow myself the pleasure.

Roman leaned down to kiss up my abdomen, leaving a wet mark behind every touch of his lips against my skin. I held my breath, reaching forward to bury my hands in his hair, feeling my heartbeat pulsing all the way through the tips of my fingers as I grew nervous. I had no idea what plans he had in mind, and whether I wanted him to stop or not.

"I'm surprised you haven't been more aggressive about it," I breathed, finally looking down to meet his wanting, green eyes. "I always expected you to be. You always seemed like the type."

Roman hummed, his fingers tracing the edge of my bra. "I have been, with others," he said, matter-of-factly. "Mostly because I knew they'd let me. Some girls are easy, in that sense."

I couldn't even hold my grimace-- I reached for his hands, holding him back from going any further. "You don't hear yourself, do you?" Propping myself up on my elbows, I tried to scour the thoughts behind his deep eyes, but to no avail. I didn't even care to adjust my t-shirt before I answered him; "It speaks volumes about your view of women."

"My view?" Roman bit his lip, holding back his amusement. "I love women. Where on earth would I be without women?"

I had to hold myself back from kicking him. "I don't think I want to hear this--"

"But most of all, I love girls like you," Leaning down to kiss my shoulder, Roman slid his hands down my thighs and to my knees that were creased over his legs. "But funnily enough, there aren't any girls like you. You're like a singular, vexing entity... and you've got me. You've really got me." His kisses trailed up to my collarbones, and I tilted my head to give him easier access-- I hated how little restraint I had around him, even when he said the most asshole-y things possible.

"You've got me. All of me," Roman murmured, managing to lay me back down on the bed, disarming me in an instant. It was impossible not to let my heart swell at his words, and it only got worse as he continued; "I've never had anyone fight for me like you do. Never met someone worth the challenge. So excuse me for not being aggressively inappropriate with you."

I was so stunned, that I simply stared up at him like a dazzled fool as he slowly pried off my shirt. "Well, you-- you have been inappropriate,"

"Oh, I'm not denying that," Roman's knowing smirk was on display as he wried his shirt off, now crawling back on top of me. I hummed, unable to hold back the sigh that escaped me as I felt his weight back on me, skin to skin. My hands went back up in his hair, making sure it wouldn't hide his beautiful eyes before pulling him in for an open, loving kiss.

There was a certain heat to it that I wasn't used to-- it was perhaps the finality of our union that allowed us to get lost in it. Either that, or Roman didn't care to hold back anymore. I hadn't noticed he was hard until he pressed further up against the apex of my thighs; my breath hitched against our kiss, my grip in his soon-to-be dry hair tightening as the friction between my legs gave me the relief I didn't know I needed.

Roman's lips were always breathtakingly plush against mine, his tongue gently moving in motions that kept me on the brink of clenching my legs around him-- I always felt out of breath after every kiss, especially when we were tangled up like this for longer than what we could be in public. My heart swelled as it beat at his, and I was unable to hold back the hitch of my breath which escaped me as he sunk his teeth into my bottom lip.

Roman pulled away long enough to speak; "So can you?"

I would've answered him quicker, had it not been for the fact that he wouldn't let me detach from the kiss that ensued. Humming, I had to give his hair a harder tug, feeling him sigh in a wave of satisfaction before finally allowing me to disconnect our kiss. "Can I what?" I tried, hoping to catch my breath.

"Keep quiet," Roman nudged my nose with his as his big, green eyes found mine.

"I don't even know what it is that you're planning to do!--"

"You've gotta promise," he said, placing a short kiss against my rambling lips. "I don't want any problems with your parents. It's sort of nice to meet the only people in this town who don't think I'm a scoundrel."

I had to laugh-- it was true. They certainly had no idea about the reputation my new boyfriend had. "Okay, I promise! But what are you--"

I was yanked forward on the bed for the second time tonight; Roman heard a green light, and that was enough for him. I yelped, immediately clasping my hand over my mouth as his eager kisses trailed down my body, his hands now slowly inching toward my zipper.

It all happened so fast-- I nearly bit down on my hand to suppress my nervous trail of noises as Roman discarded my pants with ease. He was almost methodical, planting soft, warm kisses along the inside of my thigh as his fingers trailed up to grab at my waist. He kissed his way up to my center before passing over it, leaving me heaving for air out of sheer excitement-- he now descended over to my other thigh, his green eyes darkening as he looked up to catch my reaction to his teases.

The breath in my chest was a rapid circle, but it caught in my throat as I watched Roman smirk against my skin, taking in the sight of me coming apart as he spoke; "Hold on... Is this turning you on or something?"

I was two seconds away from kicking him. Genuinely. "You're awful," I breathed, burying my face in my hands.

"Really? I usually get quite raving reviews," Roman laughed against my thigh, sinking his teeth into my skin to evoke a noise. That seemed to work-- I let out a squeak before propping myself up on my elbows again, staring down at him with narrowed eyes; "You're already making a mess out of me, do you need to make fun of me too?"

Roman chuckled, pressing an apologetic kiss where he had previously bit me. "Not making fun of you," he murmured, his hold around my waist allowing him to move me even closer to him with a swift motion. Now, his breath was falling hot and heavy right above my clothed sex. "Just trying to get you to talk."

"Talk?" I echoed, watching Roman hook his fingers around my underwear-- I couldn't watch this. I laid back down on the bed with a shaky breath, squirming beneath his grip.

Roman hummed; "Yeah," He licked a wet stripe up the crease of my thigh, slowly, along the hem of my panties, which left me shivering. "We both know how much you're going to enjoy this, anyway. You might as well come out and say it."

He certainly knew how to build anticipation-- his words had nearly distracted me from the moment he dragged my underwear to the side, now leaning forward to press a kiss against my clit. I gasped, once again clasping a hand over my mouth; this was a sensation I could get used to. "Roman--"

As much as he wanted me to talk, I couldn't. Not when he swept his tongue through the wetness of my slit, not when that action had me bucking my hips up against him, not when it all left me breathless. Roman's big, strong hands grabbed me, pinning me down as he laved his tongue up along my cunt with slow, meticulous motions.

This feeling was so foreign-- I really had no idea how to deal with it. I felt my breath catch in my chest, my back arching slightly off the bed as I fought the urge to tremble against him. Even worse, was the fight against making any noise that could give away what we were doing in here. I let out a broken, quiet moan as I reached for Roman's hair, running my fingers through it in a desperate attempt to seek some comfort from the storm of feelings raving through me.

Roman sighed against me, his grip on my hips tightening as he pressed a few gentle, almost sweet, kisses against my clit, which immediately had my breath hitching rather loudly. His eyes returned to watch me, narrowing as a signal; keep it down.

Everything about it made me blush-- I buried my face in my hands, feeling them tremble against my skin. It felt as though my veins were on fire as I fought to keep my breath steady, and I was about to grab a pillow and stuff my face in it before I heard a knock at the door.

My eyes sprung open, immediately reaching down to pull Roman away from me as I panicked. However, my new boyfriend had other plans-- his fingers dug into my flesh, eyes boring into mine with burning embers of challenge as he laved his tongue against my clit with repeating firm licks. Something told me this was beyond exciting to him, and it only made my hips buck up against his mouth. No, no--

Another knock; "Sweetie, we're going to bed! Don't stay up too late, alright?"

"I-- Okay!" I hoped they couldn't hear that I was panting, back arched off the bed as Roman nearly made me see stars.

"Do you need anything in there?"

No, no, no-- what was that even supposed to mean? Something told me my parents were nervous about me having a boy over. I could feel Roman smile against me, clearly amused, as I fought the urge to moan; "N-No, we're good!"

A huge part of me wanted to kill him for putting me through this, but the other part of me was too occupied with the familiar building feeling in my body. When I was sure my parents had stepped away, I reached down to give his hair a proper tug to get his attention; "Rome, you can't just-- you can't do that, are you insane?"

I would later regret saying that-- immediately, actually. With a rather evil look about him, Roman propped himself up on his elbows, staring back at me with a look of dark victory. I whimpered at the loss of contact, squirming in his hold. "You should've seen your face," he purred, suppressing a laugh. "You looked like you were going to cum out of fear."

Honestly, I had no idea what that even meant. Not the faintest, whatsoever. But all my plans of asking him or telling him off were thrown out the window the second I realized his mouth was covered in what I could only guess was me. I watched my slick around his lips glisten as the moonlight shone across his face-- that was certainly a sight I never imagined I'd ever see, and one I wish I could frame and pull up for special occasions.

Roman's eyes lit up, quickly catching onto what had gotten me so dumbstruck. In a show of power, he slowly slid his tongue along his plush lips with a low hum, which in turn nearly made me gasp. A dark laugh followed, a dangerous smirk on display as he spoke the words that would later haunt my dreams; "You taste divine,"

My grip around his hair loosened, feeling as though my breath was slowly seeping out of my lungs with no control whatsoever. It hit me how badly I wanted his mouth back on me again, how much I wanted him to drive me over the edge to get that sense of relief I craved so, so-- "Well... There's more where that came from,"

Roman's lips quirked into a surprised smile, tilting his head to the side as he watched me with a look I could only describe as pride. "Shit, you're learning," he said, a hint of a laugh apparent in his voice.

"That's my girl."

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Being Roman's girl was certainly not something I ever thought I'd be. I had imagined it, sure, played with the idea in my head, but with the premonition that I would never truly know what that entailed-- I certainly didn't think this would be it.

I should've known Roman wouldn't let this night end.

"Was it truly torture?" I asked, my legs dangling off my roof about an hour later. "The whole ordeal where I wanted you to tell me you liked me."

Roman sat beside me, having insisted that he couldn't sleep without getting a proper hit of nicotine after his stressful day. He exhaled a particularly large ring of smoke, shrugging as though that would lift the weight off his next words; "Felt like it,"

"Why?"

"Dumb question,"

"Just answer it!"

Roman sighed, eyes fixating on the way I dangled my legs. He reached forward with his free hand, grabbing my hips and adjusting me further back on the roof. "You're going to fall off the roof like that," he mumbled, taking another drag. "Try not to die on me, hm?"

I was getting fed up with the way he was evading my question-- I sent him a look, shoulders slumping. "Rome,"

"What? I need you alive," He held out his cigarette in front of me when he was done, and I grimaced as I took it into my hand. He continued with a knowing smirk; "If you fall off the roof, people are going to think I pushed you. Think how my reputation would suffer."

I rolled my eyes; I was definitely not getting anywhere with this question tonight. "Perhaps," I watched the cigarette rest between my fingers as I held it out in front of me-- I still hadn't learned how to smoke, let alone found the will to. "But I bet you could buy your way out of prison, so I don't think you'd suffer much."

"Don't be ridiculous. If you were gone, I'd be suffering all the time," Once more, it was clear that he hadn't yet registered the weight of his words as he longingly stared at his cigarette. "Are you going to have a drag or not?"

I slowly turned to him, blinking twice. "You did not just say that,"

"What? I've waited for a cigarette break all day!--"

"Not that!" This was getting rather frustrating. I huffed, going back to dangling my legs over the edge of the roof. "That you would suffer all the time if I was gone?"

Roman shrugged, gaze now shifting to stare out on the lawn in front of us; "Of course I would. It would be this week, just all over again for eternity,"

"So, just to hear you say it again, it was torture?"

A groan-- "Yeah... It was," His big, green eyes trailed back to me once more, something unfamiliar swimming in them. "I guess you're the first girl I've ever cared for, so imagine my horror when you made it seem like you didn't care about me back."

I was sure this would break my heart all over again. My lips parted in shock, still not used to the fact that Roman was being open with me after all this time. "I never... I never thought you'd doubt that," I had to clear my throat, no longer meeting his eyes. "After how I've been acting around you."

"Acting like what?"

"Like a fool,"

Amused, Roman reached forward and brought the cigarette back between his fingers before he shifted closer to me. "Honestly? I thought it was cute," He noticed my aversion, nudging me gently before taking a drag. "I think it was the fact that you had no idea what you were doing that drew me in. And your scared little face."

I rolled my eyes, nudging him back. "Now that was torture too! The whole part where you were threatening to tell Letha we fucked in that closet during seven minutes of heaven! You should be glad I didn't succumb to a heart attack,"

"Oh, yeah... that," Roman finished his cigarette, stumping it on the hard materials of the roof. "To put it briefly, I didn't know how else to approach you. You both hated my guts and wanted to inhale me."

"Inhale you?!"

With a hearty laugh, Roman wrapped a protective arm around me, leaning down to press a playful kiss against my ear before whispering; "I might just let you if you stay nice,"

I didn't expect my cheeks to burn the way they did-- I was dead sure I was bright red, and I buried my face in his chest to hide it. Roman, still laughing at my embarrassment, kissed the top of my head as he pulled me even closer. "Oh, poor you, am I being mean?"

Huffing, I pouted against his chest; "Yes,"

"Too much for you for one night?"

"... No,"

I didn't need to see him to know Roman was smirking, that mischievous shimmer probably apparent in his eyes. "Good," he murmured. "Because I want to mention one more thing before we go back inside and try not to wake your parents again."

Oh God-- I gathered the courage to look up at him, watching the way his hair lay in soft waves over his forehead. Something told me I should savour the moment before he opened his mouth once more, and I straightened up, watching him follow my every move with intrigue.

I placed a hesitant, delicate kiss against Roman's plush lips, feeling him sigh. I couldn't quite pinpoint why I was still nervous to initiate, why I still wondered if I was doing it all wrong, but I had a feeling I would always be. Especially when it came to Roman. The guy I had wanted for ages, who was currently sitting on my roof, kissing me back.

It hit me that it would probably never dawn on me fully-- how could it?

Roman smiled against my lips, our breaths practically becoming one as we pulled away. I kissed him once more, shortly, before reaching forward to bring his hands into mine. "You were saying?"

His eyes, full of affection, watched as I flipped his hands and traced circles around his palms. "Just... the whole ordeal felt like shit, but that the most painful thing was to see you trying to flirt with that Daniel guy,"

"What?" My brows drew together, puzzled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Roman chuckled, sighing at the feeling of my soft touch. "It's just obvious that you don't know what you're doing,"

"That's nonsense, I do!"

"Nope,"

"I know how to flirt!"

He shook his head rather matter-of-factly; "Nope,"

This was outrageous-- My movements came to a halt, my eyes narrowing as they met his. "Well, I got you somehow, didn't I?"

"Because I let you," Roman intertwined out fingers, the sight of his smirk nearly becoming unbearable. Why did he have to be so handsome, even whilst making fun of me? "Because I wanted to kiss you so bad, it became my every waking thought. But had it not been for that, I'm not so sure."

I gasped, fighting his grip around my hands; I had never wanted to hit him more than now, despite his confession. "Stop it, I can flirt!"

Roman hummed, sending me a look that told me he wasn't sold. "If I remember correctly, your exact words that first time were could you kiss me, then? I've had a really shitty night," He laughed at the memory, squeezing my hands. "Now, what do you say you try again?"

I was sure I was going to melt into the roof and end up as a blob of goo on my lawn. This was horrifying. My cheeks flushed again, feeling myself get more and more flustered. "Set the scene, then,"

Roman leaned forward, pressing a kiss against my forehead-- it almost felt like a push of encouragement. He pulled away, his thumbs stroking over the healing cuts on the back of my hands. "Okay... Imagine we're back in that closet, and you so desperately want to kiss me again--"

"Rome!--"

"Desperately," he whispered, eyes burning with intrigue and challenge as they bore into mine. "So what do you do?"

I held my breath, watching the amused smirk on display across his plush, pink lips. "What do you mean?"

Roman bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to laugh in my face. "Fine, let's do a different approach. I'll teach you how, instead," His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. "The key to flirting is to say exactly what's on your mind, along with having a decent enough buildup. Do you catch my drift?"

"... Sure?"

"I'll give you an example," Roman let go of my hands, almost as though to reset the scene. He ran his fingers through his hair, the corners of his mouth curving up into his classic charming smile as his eyes remained sincere. "The first part is simple. Just keep your eyes on me."

Simple was an understatement-- my heart beat harder with every breath, unable to let my mind rest while looking at the show of beauty before me, carved by the Gods. Everything about Roman was simply perfect, and I was afraid I'd turn into stone if I stared at him too long. Despite that, I adhered; I gave in to a nod, unable to dim my growing smile.

"Then..." Roman's fingers ghosted up along the side of my arm, so light it almost tickled. I shivered, my skin reacting to the subtle contact. His fingers trailed down to my hand, and he gently intertwined them with mine, touching me as though I was made of glass-- everything about it made me feel like I was on fire. "Touch. Very, very simple, but very effective. As you see, your breath is already unsteady."

Fuck. I gulped, giving in to a nervous, soft giggle as my gaze started flickering. "Well, you certainly know what you're doing--"

"Eyes on me,"

A very simple oh escaped me, immediately focusing back on Roman despite how ridiculously nervous I was.

He, on the other hand, seemed beyond amused at this point; "And then you say what you want. It's all very simple," Roman toyed with my fingers, running his up along the short length of mine, and the intimacy of it nearly had my breath hitching. After going from not talking at all to this, my brain wasn't as used to his antics anymore-- I so desperately hoped I wouldn't swoon and roll off the roof.

"And that is...?"

Roman shifted, his lips now hovering inches above mine; the tension was thicker than ever, swallowing me whole. The playfulness of his smirk faded, his eyes rounding out as he realized the weight of his words before finally saying them; "I want you to kiss me just like you did a few minutes ago... Kiss me like you could possibly love me,"

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I never thought that being Roman's girl would bring me such peace. We had been together for a week now, and it felt like the best week of my life; a big part of me was sure it actually was.

My fall-out with Letha started to feel worth it-- if she couldn't accept that I was happy with Roman despite him being her cousin, then that was her loss. Why shouldn't friends be happy for each other?

Because honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy. Especially now that I was sitting in the passenger seat of Roman's car on a lazy Sunday, the wind blowing through my hair as he bickered with Peter about the songs playing on the stereo. I could only laugh, a bright smile on my face as I kicked back, adjusting my sunglasses as the bright rays of the day shone down on us.

"This song sucks," Roman grumbled, clearly regretting giving his best friend Bluetooth access to the stereo. "Since when were you so into Britney Spears? Do you have nothing else you can play?"

Splaying out in the backseat, practically lying down, Peter crossed his arms behind his head as he chuckled; "Maybe I like that you don't like it? And you're a psycho if you don't enjoy this one, it's hit me baby one more time! Put some respect on the name,"

"Dude, you sound like a thirteen-year-old girl,"

"A thirteen-year-old with taste, at least!"

I couldn't help but laugh-- the one thing I had learned about Roman, was that the gang of boys he usually hung out with had nothing on his friendship with Peter. Something about the way they were annoying each other showed me all I needed to know. My gaze went back and forth between them, grinning from ear to ear. I could get used to this.

Roman rolled his eyes, switching lanes with ease. He was damn handsome behind the steering wheel, tapping his fingers along with the rhythm of the tune despite being vocal about his disdain-- the upturn of his nose, the way he quietly chewed his gum with no care in the world, everything about the sight of him and his styled brown hair made me feel beyond lucky to have his attention, even for a moment. So, when he placed his hand on my thigh, I had to bite down on my lip and look away; it was all too exhilarating.

"Could I pick the next song?" I asked, turning to Peter. I noticed he had already closed his eyes, basking in the sun as he nodded and handed me his phone.

Something told me Roman was relieved to be saved from Britney Spears-- he squeezed my thigh twice, making me giggle as I scrolled through Peter's playlist. When I finally found the perfect song, I tried to hide my smile in the palm of my hand as I held back any signs of my brewing laughter.

The second the new song sounded through the stereo, it became impossible to hold back my evil joy as Roman let out the loudest groan I'd ever heard from him; "For fuck's sake!"

I succumbed to my laugh, hearing Peter roaring from the backseat at my song of choice. I turned to him, accepting his high-five. There was no way in hell I'd give anything up for the look on Roman's face right now— the way he rolled his eyes, sending me a quick, sharp glare; "Traitor,"

"I like Britney!" I tapped my fingers against the hand he had on my thigh, humming along to the music. "And oops, I did it again is a classic!"

Roman shook his head; "The both of you are awful,"

"We're not!" Peter protested, sitting up in his seat. "We just have superior music taste. And also, when are you going to pull over?"

"Never. Pee your pants, dipshit,"

"Yeah? I will hold your girlfriend hostage and key your car if you don't find a gas station in five minutes,"

Groaning once more, Roman rolled his eyes and switched lanes, ready to get off the highway. "You keep her out of this," He glanced at me, the spark in his green eyes unmistakable, before meeting Peter's gaze in the rearview mirror. "And you better stay away from my fucking car, I just got it repainted!"

Oh, it was impossible not to smile. Impossible. Even despite the two of them getting on my nerves, I couldn't deny that Roman was making up for my lack of friends by surrounding me with people. I wasn't sure whether he meant to or not, if it was subconscious, but I felt taken care of, even in odd company.

Roman cared for me. He was taking care of me.

... In his own weird way, of course.

When we finally arrived at the nearest gas station, Roman's car still intact and I not held hostage, it didn't take long before Peter jumped out of the back and headed inside, giving us a moment alone.

I watched Roman fix his hair in the car mirror, and I wasn't sure whether he realized he was still humming hit me baby one more time. With a bright smile on my face, I reached out for his hand, giving it a short squeeze to get his attention. "I'm gonna run inside and get some water, do you want anything? Juice, a soda?"

My breath nearly got knocked out of me as Roman's eyes met mine, the green in his eyes more intense now than ever as the sun laid itself in soft strokes over his face. "Maybe a beer?"

"Rome, you're driving!"

"Oh, cry me a river," Roman leaned over to press a short, soft kiss against my lips. "Get me a cola or something, then."

I hummed, a faint blush apparent on my cheeks. Why did every kiss, every touch, get me so giddy? Still, I tried to keep my composure-- "Could you at least say please?"

Shaking his head, Roman reached for his wallet; "Nope. But I'll pay,"

"Just say it nicely, that's all I ask of you!"

He handed me his card, sending me a look which said don't argue. "You know the code,"

"I-- Ugh, just say it!"

"What do I get for it?"

Calculated fucker. "Fine, I'll blow you later!"

He grinned-- "There you go," Roman took my hand into his, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. Something told me he was simply hiding his look of victory. "Please get me a coke, and get yourself anything you'd like. Alright?"

"Alright," Despite my mind racing from the fact that I didn't know how to do what I had just promised him, I leaned over and gave Roman a sweet kiss on his cheek before I got out of the car. As I made my way to the gas station, I turned around just at the right time-- I caught the moment he tried to wipe the smile off his face with no success, clearly flustered as he failed to keep his composure.

It felt as though my hair was burning after being in the heat for this long, and I was happy to escape the sun when I entered the building. The cold breeze of the air-conditioner hit me, making me sigh in relief as I strolled along the endless aisles, looking for the perfect treat for the rest of my drive.

My head was still buzzing from the rush of being with Roman like this. The way he smiled at me, the way he leaned one arm out the window as he drove his red Jaguar down the highway-- it was perfectly picturesque. So as I reached for a chocolate bar with a wide grin on my face, I didn't expect it to get wiped away within the drop of a second.

On the other side of the aisle, a familiar pair of green eyes stared right back at me with a fright I hadn't seen in them before. Letha seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for me to speak, but instead, I froze with my hand still lingering on the chocolate-- we both stood still for so long, I was afraid the heat of my palm would melt the bar.

Letha's gaze moved from mine and down to my hands; I watched her eyes round out at the sight of the cuts on the back of my hands, the ones caused by her new best friend Jasmine. "Your hands," she breathed, clearly taken aback. I remembered overhearing Letha's conversation with Roman, where it had been unveiled that she had no idea I had been injured at all. Suddenly, all I could remember was the hurt in her voice as she continued; "I didn't think they would be so... gosh, I hoped Roman was exaggerating."

In the midst of my shock, I snapped out of it as a wave of anger washed over me. I was standing face to face with the girl who had made my life a living hell at school, and I no longer felt anything else than pure resentment. In a flash of confidence, I grabbed the chocolate bar and walked off without saying a word, not feeling the need to respond.

I should've known that wouldn't be the end-- "Hey, wait!" Letha followed on the other side of the aisle, her worried eyes never leaving me. "We need to talk, I can't do this anymore!"

As I reached the end of the candy aisle, our lanes intertwined. Groaning, I turned on my heel and started my march toward the beverages, hoping to shake her off. "I can spare you the hassle and tell you I have about three visible hickeys. Kindly throw up outside," In an attempt to keep calm, I started scouring the selection of drinks.

Letha quickly caught up to me, putting her hand over mine as I reached for the door to the beverages. "I don't care," she tried, eyes more sincere than ever. "I want you to know how sorry I am about you getting hurt. I never wanted it to go this far."

In an act of defiance, I wried my hand out of hers. "Fuck you," I sneered, forcing the fridge door open. "Sure, I got physically hurt, but I've been hurting for more than a month without you giving as much as a shit about it!" Reaching for a cola and a bottle of water, I turned to meet Letha's gaze. "Instead of shutting me out, you could've listened to me like you promised to when I told you about everything with Roman. Instead, you isolated me, made me a target, and now you expect me to want to talk to you?"

Letha's eyes were swimming in tears at this point, freezing to her spot. "I never wanted this for any of us! I'm so sorry!" She did her best to collect herself, but her voice was on the brink of breaking; "I never wanted to lose you in all of this, I miss my best friend! Do you not miss me too?"

I was ready to turn around and leave, but I stopped in my tracks. What?

... She missed me? And she was apologizing?

Just as I was about to answer, I felt a familiar presence come up behind me. Judging by the sound of the heavy boots, I pieced together that it was Peter. "Letha?" He seemed caught off guard by her presence, but his hands still reached for the items I was holding, indicating that we should get going.

Something about this was off-- my eyes darted back and forth between them, watching Letha's pupils dilate in what I could only guess was shock; what else could it be? "Peter? What are you--"

"Road trip," he said, tone stern as he cut her off. Peter grabbed my shoulders, now ushering me out of the way and towards the cashier.

I became a rambling mess, uttering a few incohesive words as I looked back at Letha. What had just happened? Peter's grip on my shoulders was the only thing stabilizing me as I somehow managed to pay and get out of the gas station. He opened the door to the passenger seat, sitting me down as he rolled his eyes at the sight of his best friend fixing his hair in the rearview mirror.

My guess was that I looked shell-shocked, because Roman immediately looked quite concerned as he exchanged a look with Peter. He reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Are you having a heat stroke? Why do you look so fried?"

Peter answered for me, plopping himself down in the back seat; "Letha," he mumbled, putting on his seatbelt. "She was in there. Didn't catch the convo, but your girls seemed to be going at each other's throats."

With a groan, Roman ran his hand down to grab mine, intertwining our fingers. "What did she say?" he asked me, giving my digits a small squeeze.

I shook my head; "Nothing. Let's just get out of here,"

I didn't want to tell him how hard it hit me to hear that Letha missed me and that she was finally apologizing. That it was churning my heart, grinding all the molecules of my anger down into a single river of sadness. What made everything worse, was the look on Roman's face; something told me that he knew, and that he most certainly didn't want to get into a push-and-pull situation with Letha. Who would win in that situation?

I was relieved when he finally started the car-- I hoped not to think about this for the remainder of the day.

... Was there actually hope for reconciliaton? I wasn't sure whether I was ready for that or not, but it was still killing me.

Killing me.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

After dropping Peter off at his place, Roman parked somewhere along my dimly lit street as the moonlight shone down on us, not yet wanting me to leave. He glanced over at me, watching me picking at my nails in nervous habit as my mind raced; even after a long day of fun, I couldn't forget my encounter with Letha. The look in her eyes, the fact that she wanted to finally bury the hatchet-- no, it was impossible to shake that.

Roman shifted, not giving away his true feelings about the ordeal as he scanned the way I shut down. It was clear that he was thinking rather hard about what to say next, clearly not wanting to say the wrong thing. However, something told me he was annoyed as he spoke; "Is it not enough for you?"

My brows drew together in confusion, meeting his gaze. "What are you talking about?"

Roman shrugged; "Us. This,"

"What?" I sat up in my seat, eyes widening. This was certainly not a conversation I thought we would be having a week into our relationship. "I'm confused--"

"If you're so easily swayed by Letha, it can't be enough. Right?" Roman's gaze hardened, and it didn't take long before I recognized this was a pattern-- the second he felt his position was threatened, he simply got angry. "I'm trying not to be pushy about sex, I'm being open about my feelings or whatever, but you want to run right back to her!"

I blinked twice, baffled. "I'm not sure I want to, but what does it matter to you?--"

"You really think she'd be okay with us being together if you become friends again?" Roman's grip on the steering wheel tightened as his jaw clenched, clearly bothered by his next thoughts; "She'd make you choose."

My heart hurt-- I didn't expect him to make such conclusions. Still, I gathered my thoughts, realizing I was witnessing one of his fits of panic that he didn't know how to put into words; "Okay, you know what? You taught me a little something a week ago, and now I'm going to see if it works. Look at me, please,"

Roman didn't budge; instead, his grip around the steering wheel tightened, and I saw he was holding his breath.

"Rome?"

A hum.

"Look at me,"

Reluctantly, he finally did. His chest rose and fell in sharp moves, clearly trying to collect himself and his impending outburst of anger. Like this, Roman was more handsome than ever-- something about how dark he got weirdly made my head buzz.

Still, I knew I had two more steps to go; I reached out to brush the strand of hair lying over his forehead, stroking my fingers through his dark locks in an attempt to bring him back down to earth. Roman's jaw remained clenched as he met my eyes, still not letting his guard down despite his pupils widening at the sight of me.

I ran my hand down his face, stroking my thumb across his cheek as I watched him keen against my palm. It seemed to be calming him down, and I let out a long sigh of relief to see it working.

Now, to the last part-- "Then I just have to say what I want, right?"

Roman seemed to catch onto what I was doing as he gave in to a small nod. The usual shimmer in his eyes returned, intrigue brewing in his green gaze; "That's how it usually goes, yeah,"

I did my best not to laugh-- something about the way he held his breath, waiting for my next words, was so ridiculously cute. Roman Godfrey, the man of the hour, the menace, my hallway crush for as long as I could remember, was nervous. A puddle of anxiety in my hands.

And he had no idea.

"You think I went through all this shit just to throw you away?" My fingers gently trailed over his softening face, watching his every move. The weight of my next words was something I felt leave my chest the second I finally spelled them out; "You've got me, Roman. All of me. Nothing Letha ever does or says will change that, and she knows that. You have nothing to be nervous about, seriously."

What ensued caught me off guard like never before-- I didn't expect Roman to lean forward and kiss me the way he did, with passion that nearly took my breath away. The usual warmth swelled in my chest as his plush lips pressed against mine, and a mix of the night air and his touch made me shiver beneath the moonlight. It started out light; his hand trailed up from my neck, twisting into the nape of my neck, bringing me closer with a burning need I didn't see in him very often.

Then it hit me that I hadn't ever put much thought into how hard it was to make out in a car. However, Roman was a man of many solutions-- I let in a shaky breath as our lips disconnected, but it was quickly knocked out again when his arms wrapped around me and lifted me out of my seat. I let out a loud squeak, instinctively clinging onto Roman as he somehow managed to sit me on top of him in the driver's seat, laughing against the kiss he pulled me into.

My heart was racing, arms still draped around him in a protective hold as he pushed back the steering wheel as much as he could, downright giggling against my lips. I had never kissed someone while having a laughing fit, but as I joined in on Roman's, I realized how much of a high it was.

"Your face," he laughed in between playful nips, hands trailing down to grab my waist.

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him away and get a proper look at him as he grinned up at me. Had it been up to me, I would've frozen this moment and kept it tucked away in my freezer, knowing it would never melt away there. Roman's eyes were illuminated by a nearby lamp, the orange hues mixing in with his green, making them a yellow-y brown; almost the same colour as his hair which was soft to the touch today, and not gelled up like usual. The way he looked at me with joy, the ultimate show of affection, nearly made me gelatin in his arms.

Oh, and the laugh-- the fucking laugh. The gorgeous, deep laugh, which would definitely etch itself into my mind, ready to be replayed on bad days.

I got my hands out of his hair, cupping his face as I cocked a brow; "Yeah, what about my face?"

Roman sighed, his signature smirk on display. I expected him to say something either dirty or stupid like the usual, but instead, he opted to take my breath away once more with the following-- he went quiet, eyes rounding out as he took the time to scan my every feature, every movement, as though I was a beautiful, rare diamond; "It's gorgeous,"

My lips parted, staring back at him with a dumbfounded expression. I was ready to say something, pull myself together, until I realized I didn't have to anymore-- Roman was my boyfriend.

Roman was my boyfriend.

I didn't have to pull myself together. I could go absolutely mad, if I wanted to.

... And somehow, I found myself wanting to drive myself to complete and utter madness.

I had no idea what came over me when I placed my hands on each side of his face, slowly driving them up into his hair as I pressed my lips against him in an open, desperate kiss. Roman hummed (was that a moan?), his hands trailing down into my back pockets as he pressed me further up against him, none of us giving a damn about the fact that we were parked on a street and that anyone could walk by at any moment despite how deserted the neighborhood was so late at night.

It took a turn as Roman sunk his teeth into my bottom lip, eliciting a small whimper. The fingers I had in his hair tightened around his dark locks as a need for friction built between my legs, and when Roman drew my hips forward to meet his, I didn't fight-- instead, I was quite sure I moaned.

My cheeks burned with the realization, but I didn't have much time to think about it. I was drawn further into a state of arousal as he got his hands out of my pockets, his big hands grabbing my ass properly as his hips bucked up to meet mine through our clothes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-- my brain was in such a state of overdrive, I didn't think twice before lightly sucking down on the tip of Roman's tongue, feeling him let out a shaky breath against me.

The gentle breeze of the night poked at my clouded mind, reminding me of where we were, that I had a curfew to get to. I disconnected our lips, hearing Roman sigh; "We shouldn't," I tried, shifting as I pulled my jacket over my shoulder-- it was in this moment that I realized that he was hard. My heart fluttered with delight as I realized I could feel his cock swell with growing interest, feel him keen against me, separated by just a few layers-- my eyes widened, meeting his. Something told me it was a little too late to back down now.

Roman hummed, his breathing slowing down as he grinned up at me; "Yeah, you might be right... But why do the right thing when you can do the fun thing?" His fingers reached for my jacket, almost taking it off again. When my skin was exposed once more, he leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against my collarbones.

I was going to push him away, remind him of our surroundings-- but as I felt Roman swipe his tongue along my skin with every kiss, I couldn't. Every touch, every kiss, made the buzzing in my mind louder.

My breath hitched, fingers running back up into his hair as his kisses trailed further down my skin. It felt as though my hands were on fire, arousal burning through my veins as my heart thumped loudly in my chest. I wanted him so bad, I didn't think twice before I rolled my hips down against his hard cock, hearing Roman let out a grunt before he finally took the liberties to force a repetition of my actions with his hands on my ass.

This was bad; so, so bad. I knew I was done for when I shifted, the pressure against my clit only dulling my mind further. The slight tremble that appeared in my knees made me reach for the seat, no longer feeling steady; "Rome," I tried, feeling my desperation grow as his hungry kisses trailed down my shirt.

"Shh... Just a little more," Roman's hands pressed against my back, pulling me flush against him. I nearly let out a whine as I realized he was dangerously close to the hem of my bra, and I had to take a quick look around the area to make sure no one was seeing this. "Roman--"

"You have no idea how long I've thought about having you like this," he said, voice low as his hands slowly moved up my body. "You were always so against the idea of fucking in my car... Makes me want to show you how good it could be."

I felt my face redden, burning with a mix of shock and intrigue. In fact, I was so out of it that I barely registered the moment Roman's hand reached for my bra, pulling one cup to the side to grab a handful of my chest--

Squeaking in shock, I didn't have time to push him off before he leaned forward, licking a wet stripe up my hardening bud. My face was practically on fire, squirming in his grip as a shaky moan escaped my lips.

"You're so pretty," he breathed, eyes meeting mine to keep my gaze locked on him as he placed an open-mouthed kiss against my breast. My breath hitched, not yet used to this feeling-- it felt as though I was getting electrocuted all the way down to my clit with every flick of his tongue.

This was definitely the most risky thing I had ever done in my life. I never thought I would be doing anything like this on an open street and that I wouldn't be fighting it. Nonetheless, I let out a broken moan as my hands went up into his hair, my fingers twisting further into Roman's dark locks as his lips wrapped around me once more, sucking me in between his lips.

As the tremble in my legs worsened, I pulled him away from me, watching as his half-lidded green eyes shimmered with lust. "Christ," I breathed, quickly pulling my top back into place. "I'm no better than your cheerleader whores, at this point."

Roman clearly didn't expect me to say that, laughing as his hands now rested on my hips. "I haven't even done anything yet," he cooed, tracing circles into my jeans. "But actually, this reminds me there was one thing you told me you'd do..."

My eyes widened as he reached forward to clasp his fingers around my wrists. Of all the things I thought he'd do, this was certainly not it-- I felt my breath hitch once more as Roman pressed my trembling hands against his clothed, hard cock.

Oh God. "Not here!" I tried, hoping to slow down the beating of my heart. "I can't-- Fuck, Rome, I wouldn't even know what to do!"

Roman bit his lip, mostly to not laugh right in my face. The amusement in his eyes told me all I needed to know; "You think I haven't taken that into account? I know you haven't done this before,"

"And you're still up for it...?"

Roman's eyes widened, looking rather bewildered. "Are you kidding me? I'd be up for it during a fucking terrorist attack, believe me,"

That was not an image I wanted to have in my head. Oh, Roman and his antics-- "Shut up," I mumbled, feeling myself grow more anxious. Anyone could walk by right now, and my parents were definitely wondering where on earth I was.

"You shut up,"

I gasped, my eyes narrowing at the sight of Roman's grin; "Hah! Make me,"

"Sure," he said, shrugging. "You might moan a little, though."

I was tempted to freeze up until a reflex I didn't know I had kicked in-- shifting, I put my hand on his thigh to support myself as the one he had put over his hard-on reached for his zipper. "Don't fuck with me, Godfrey. I might just retaliate,"

I watched all the air in Roman's lungs seep out through his mouth as his green eyes burned into mine, a look of surprise streaking across his face which quickly morphed into intrigue. "Shit," he breathed. "I've broken you already, haven't I? Who are you, and what have you done to my girl?"

I couldn't help but smile-- this was something I could certainly get used to. "Breaking me is going to take a lot more, don't you worry,"

"Really, now?" Shifting, Roman's face was mere inches away from mine. The night air flowed through his hair in a soft breeze, his parted lips looking more enticing than ever-- I longed for them to be kiss-swollen once more. He gently nudged his nose against mine, hovering to drag out the tension as I held my breath in anticipation for his next words; "I'm dying to put that to the test... Can't wait to see you all pretty and broken, whimpering while I fuck you."

I hadn't been so flustered in my life-- I struggled to catch my breath, succumbing to a nervous laugh. Roman was so damn intense, I didn't know how to recover. To put the cherry on top, I had subconsciously tightened my grip around his clothed hard-on, and I heard him let out a shaky breath against me.

I couldn't look at Roman for too long-- I was afraid I'd melt. The green in his eyes swallowed me, drawing me in, enticing me to say yes, but I knew I couldn't. Not right now, at least. Instead, I forced myself to remember that we were on an open street once again, and that I really needed to get home soon.

It was too early for all of that, anyway.

"Oh, you and your dirty mouth," I breathed, leaning forward to press a short kiss against his keening lips. My hands lifted off him, resting at his shoulders. "For someone that insists they're not pushy about sex, you sure talk a lot about it."

Roman sighed, catching onto the fact that I was ready to leave. "I said I'm trying. But I'm open to the possibility that I might be failing," His grip on my hips tightened, pulling me closer with a pout. "Don't leave just yet. Stay."

If it had been up to me, I would've stayed in this moment forever. "My parents are going to kill me," I said, pressing another kiss against his lips, feeling him smile against me. "We have school tomorrow, anyway--"

"Stay," Roman's arms wrapped around me in a strong hold, engulfing me in his seductive cologne. "Just kiss me a little more, and I might consider letting you go in about three hours or so."

I rolled my eyes, giggling against him. "Come on, you're not making it easy for me here!--"

"Exactly,"

"Rome, I--" As my phone rang in my jacket on the passenger seat, I let out a sigh of relief; "Okay, that's definitely my parents calling. I'm about to be grilled like a turkey at Thanksgiving, thank you very much!"

Roman huffed as I placed a kiss against his forehead, letting go of me with a disappointed snort before he leaned over, handing me my phone.

I did my best not to get too swept up in his puppy eyes, knowing I was two seconds away from staying in the car with him all night. However, I knew it would definitely not end well for my sanity. So as I turned my phone around, ready to answer my parents and start explaining why I was so late, I froze when I saw who the actual caller was.

Roman's demeanour immediately changed-- something told me he already knew. Still, he asked; "Who is it?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck fuck!

"... It's Letha,"

(a/n: if you've come this far, thank you so so much!!! here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 7, PART 8 if you want to check them out!!<3333)

just tagging a few people that seemed interested!!<3:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard #angst #toxic relationship #highschool!au #vampire x you #peter rumancek #hemlock grove fanfiction #bruhhh letha is killing me here #i'm doing this to myself tho #letha godfrey

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lovifie · 7 months ago

Text

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 12: Finale

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

“You are not listening!” You shout, frustrated with the man.

In the couple of weeks that you have known and lived with them, you never expected that you would end up arguing with them. Even less with Price.

“No, Birdie. You are the one that needs to listen!” The man argued back.

“You got me fired, John! What else do you want me to hear?” You ask, running your hands through your hair.

It finally set in, the reality that the idyllic life of living with the four of them without a worry was just an illusion. You were here because you were hiding, and they were here because they were hiding you.

“I didn't get you fired, Birdie. Your boss did.” Price says, crossing his arms.

“Don't get sassy with me! He told you that they needed to know if I could get back to work any soon or they would be forced to fire me and you told them to do so!” You shout again, feeling like Price is lying to your face. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because you hate that job!” He shouts back. “And you don't need to work!”

“Yes, I do, Price! Yes, I do!” You say, a dry laugh leaving your throat. “Like everyone! I can't just live sponging off of you guys!”

“That's not what's happening and you know it, birdie!” He exclaims. “Don't manipulate the situation into making it look like a bloody transaction!”

“I'm manipulating the situation?!” You ask, pointing to yourself.

“Yes! You are making it look like we are paying you to stay with us, birdie!” He explains, moving his hands to his hips.

“Oh, for god's sake, Price!” You exclaim, rubbing your face. “Why don't you exaggerate it a bit more?! I don't even know why I'm arguing with you about my job!”

“Neither do I?! Because I think it is pretty much settled!” He says, walking away towards the kitchen.

“IT IS NOT SETTLE!” You scream, shocked by his response. “The reason why I don't know why we are arguing is because I don't know who gave you the right to choose over me!”

That makes him turn around, looking at you like you grow a second head. “Well, excuse me. For believing I have a say in your life, I just assumed I could since we bloody love each other and all that!”

“Don't pull that shit on me, Price! This has nothing to do with love!” You say, crossing your arms. “I don't have a say on your work! So why should you have it on me!”

“It's not the bloody same!” He says, rubbing his face.

“It's not for you because it doesn't benefit you!” You scream, looking back when you hear the door open as Gaz, Soap and Ghost enter the house. The three of them having left the house not too long ago to buy breakfast.

“What's going on? We could hear the shouts from outside.” Gaz asks, entering first and looking between Price and you, seeing the wide cliff between the two of you.

“Nothing!” Price barks, crossing his arms again.

You ignore the looks on everyone's face, instead walking to the door.

“Where are you going now?!” Price asks, moving to be able to see you.

“Out! So I can fucking breathe without feeling I'm choking!” You say, opening the door after the boys closed it.

“Don't go far!” Price says, still caring under all his bad mood

“I KNOW I CAN'T GO FAR!” You say, slamming the door on your way out.

You hate screaming, hate shouting, hate raising your voice and even more if it is at Price or any of the men inside. It's not their fault and screaming at each other is not the way to fix it. But you can't help it, tired of being pushed around at everyone's mercy without asking what's your choice.

Sitting down on the step right outside the house, not wanting or needing to go any further, you hide your face behind your hands, letting your palms get wet with your tears.

“Hey, you alright?” A man's voice says, making you look up, to come face to face with an unfamiliar face.

You don't have time to answer, because something hits the back of your head and everything blends to black.

Price updates the boys once you are out, he tells them your ex-boss called, told him you needed to get back to work the next day or he would fire you, he tells them how he told him to go ahead since you couldn't go back to work jet, he tells them about how he wasn't able to tell you about the empty position at base that you could filled to work with them because you started screaming, he tells them about how he lost his cool and just screamed back instead of explaining.

He tells them everything, feeling like the worst person in the world for making you leave the house with tears on your face. It's Gaz the first one to stand up. “I'll check on her.” He mumbles, as he walks outside to an empty staircase. He walks down, checking both sides of the street only to find it just as empty.

An anxious feeling starts to brew on his stomach, entering back to the house with a worried expression on his face. “She's gone.” He says almost casually, as if not voicing one of the biggest fears the men around him have had for the last month.

“What do you mean she's gone?” Soap asks. “She must be around the block, she'll be back in a bit, mate.”

No one believes him, not even himself. You wouldn't have walked out of his sight like that, not without dragging them with you, not without a phone, not without telling them.

There is a beat of silence, each debating whether it is plausible that you simply left, all of them feeling that the most possible chance is that something happened to you.

“I'll check the car camera, it is parked right in front of the door.” Ghost says, taking his phone out to check it.

They all check the screen, seeing the door open and close. They see you sit down, body shaking as you cry, Price feeling his heart shrunk at the sight knowing it was his doing.

They then see the two men walking in front of you, how one of them takes advantage that you have your face covered to stand behind you, how the other calls your attention to look at your face, and how once he knows it's you he nods to the other man, who knocks you out hitting you with a bat at the back of your head.

The wave of all the different emotions hitting them at once keeps them in place for a second, paralyzed on their chair. Soap jumps first, talking about checking the cameras on the street, checking the cars, their licence place, anything.

But it doesn't reach Price's ears, the only thing he can hear is the voices in his head telling him that he has failed twice now. The first one he wasn't able to keep you close enough when you left in the middle of the night, and now he was the one that pushed you away.

You were just on the other side of the door a moment ago and now… now he didn't know where you were. All because he didn't explain himself and let his emotions take control of him.

“Price!” It's Ghost's voice that wakes him up, standing beside the sergeants. “Move.”

That's all he says, and that's all Price needs.

They'll get you back, whatever it takes.

Two weeks.

That is what it takes them to finally find a trail.

That is what it takes Price to breathe again.

That's what it takes Simon to let be seen outside the office.

That's what it takes Soap to let himself be embraced by any of the others.

That's what it takes Gaz to stop baring his teeth to everyone.

They have a trail.

And god knows that's all they need.

What you need, is a doctor. A shower. A glass of water. A nap. Anything that is not forced or thrown at you.

Two weeks of torture.

Two weeks of just getting hurt, insulted, humiliated, all of it just for the purpose of causing you pain.

The henchmen of the man you used to say good morning to were the ones that have stolen you away.

The ones that have thrown you into an empty dark room.

The ones that have “interrogated” you about who you worked for.

The ones that have “interrogated” you about how much they paid you.

You didn't say a word, which usually resulted in a punch to the face or a kick to the ribs.

You want to believe that they will find you.

That they will take you back home.

That Price will forgive you for shouting at him.

Hell, if you die and the last thing you did was shout at him.

You'll live.

They'll find you.

Two weeks.

Of fighting with yourself.

The side that says you'll live.

And the side that tells you to give up already.

The second one usually wins.

Like today, when the man that enters the room every day walks up to you, limping and with a knife in his hand.

He yanks your hair, pulling you up on your feet and pressing the knife on your throat. “Make a sound and it'll be the last thing you do.”

He moves you into a chokehold, pushing you in front of him as he walks down the hall. There is shouting and the sound of guns inside the building.

The moment he sees the car where they push you in, the one they saw on the cameras; Price almost needs to pull Simon back from running inside the building.

This is it.

This is the headquarters they couldn't find for so long.

The headquarters where all the important information and the guns they have looked for so long are at.

The headquarters where everything that matters is.

The headquarters where they kept you at.

Price sends Ghost to the building on the other side of the road, not trusting the man in face to face with what they can find inside.

And he obliges, hating the rank differences.

They move in, clearing room after room.

No sign of you.

The move to the second floor.

You are not there.

More and more people that hit the ground when they found them.

You are still missing.

Until you see it.

The unmistakable blue cap on Gaz's head.

And you shout.

You shout louder than you shout at Price.

You shout louder than when Soap scared you hiding behind the door.

You shout louder than when you called for Ghost when you thought he fell on the shower but it was just the shampoo bottle.

You have never shouted at Gaz.

Until now.

And the moment you do you feel the blade dig into your skin, moving your hand between the knife and your neck.

The three of them turn to you, immediately updating Ghost and telling him to move.

The window behind you is almost like a target for a perfect shot.

But Ghost can't shoot.

Not when he can see your head.

Not when there is a possibility that he may hit you.

But he can when you move.

When you grab the blade, breaking the skin of your fingers, and you pull back just enough to squish yourself down.

You are still against his chest, the man still holding you. But Ghost can now see your head, lower than before. And the arms around you quickly go limp, falling forward taking you with him.

A ringing in your ear keeps you from Price's voice calling your name. Everything is dizzy for a moment, there is a warm sensation on your elbow and when you look back a red pool of blood is bleeding onto your clothes.

You liked that t-shirt.

You'll need to try with peroxide, see if you can take the stain out.

Your brain ignores the corpse lying next to you, but for some reason you can't stop looking at the blood on your elbow.

It isn't until Price cups your face, your grimey, bloody and sunken face. And you look up to him, his blue eyes.

And you let yourself cry.

After two weeks.

You cry.

So hard you can't see nor hear anything.

You cling onto Price, hiding your face on his neck, digging your nails on his back needing to feel him under your skin.

Apologies fly from one to the other.

For shouting, for pushing away, for failing to protect, for not shouting, for being taken away.

You feel two more pairs of arms around you, feeling the fourth person only when you start to leave the building.

Not much longer an ambulance arrives, finally taking you to safety.

The four men in the car right behind.

Recovery is just as slow.

No permanent physical damage.

But not all the wounds are on the skin.

Those heal quite fast.

And soon you are back on your feet.

On your scared, wobbly feet.

The boys are back around, always one of them close.

“I'm never leaving you out of my sight again.” Price says, cupping your face as he kisses your forehead. “I don't care if I sound like a madman.”

They make it easy to get back.

Price finally tells you about the job at base, which you gladly apply for.

Surprisingly you got it, and started working soon.

It was easy.

You got a better flat, easy to pay when four more people chime in for the bills.

You got a better job, with better pay and a better boss.

You got, not only one, but four lovers.

And you have all the time of your life to heal everything that's left.

You still wonder how you managed to get into your garage that night.

But now you're glad you did.

And with this, ladies and gentlemen.

Lift Me Off My Feet comes to an end ❤️.

Thanks for joining along, for all the support that you have given me the last couple of months, for the patience between chapters, special thanks to @darkangel4121 for listening to me complain so much and to everyone who has joined and will join the blog.

I love you, my lovelies 💗

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @prettykinkysoul @pagesfalling @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @sodavrr @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz @risingofjupiter @witchthewriter @soupinasock @phantomly27 @arbesa-mind @multifandomheathenannie @spadekip @cmbghost @herefor-tojis-tits @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe

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aceyalonso · 5 months ago

Text

ii - i missed you, italy

chapter summary : the long-awaited summer vacation in Italy is finally here. you and oscar finally start talking to each other but it's a little too awkward for you to keep the conversation going.

alternative summary : preparations for the piastri family's arrival and y/n somehow manages to fall asleep on oscar's shoulder

warnings : awkward tension, oscar is a bit rude in this

word count : 2.5k

a/n : there's more oscar in this I swear (song is just for the vibes again)

song : sarà perché ti amo - ricchi e poveri

Y/n's family had arrived at their beautiful seaside manor in Italy, the air filled with a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and jetlag; especially from Gabriel who complained that 7 am was way too early of a time to wake up. The house was nestled in a peaceful, secluded area surrounded by vibrant greenery and scenic views. The family had arrived 4 days before Nicole's family to prepare their summer house for their guests.

As Y/n's family stepped into their summer house, they were immediately greeted by the few maids who had been taking care of the property in their absence. The maids warmly smiled and bowed, welcoming them back to their home in Italy. They helped carry the luggage and inquired if the family needed any assistance during their stay.

I approached my mother who was already busy organizing some belongings in the living room.

"Mom," I say. "I'm going to head upstairs and unpack in my room."

She looks up and smiles at me. "Alright, dear. Let me or the help know if you any help okay?"

I start to make my way up the stairs but stop for a moment, seeing Gabriel asleep on the couch. A smile tugs at my lips, observing my 5-year-old brother sleeping with a dinosaur plushie in hand. I quietly approach him and place a gentle kiss on his forehead before moving on upstairs.

I enter my room, taking in the quaint charm of the space. I began to unload my suitcase, placing my clothes neatly in the closet, and my makeup and skincare on the dresser. As I continue to unpack, I can't help but glance outside the window, taking in the breathtaking views of the Italian seaside surrounding the property.

Y/n finishes unpacking and takes out her phone, walking over to the window and taking a few pictures of the stunning view outside, the rolling hills, the quaint villages, and the bright blue sea water dotting the landscape creating a picturesque view.

yn.jpg | 📍Italy

liked by sienna_cresenzo, mari.crsnzo, may.piastri and 1,709 others yn.jpg i missed you, italy.

sienna_cresenzo SINCE WHEN DID YOU ARRIVE AND WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?? ↳ yn.jpg we arrived 2 hours ago HAHAHA

may.piastri see you soon y/n!! liked by yn.jpg

mari.crsnzo welcome back y/n :) liked by yn.jpg

Y/n was in her room, putting the finishing touches on her outfit when she heard her mother's voice calling from downstairs. "Y/n! Lunch is ready! And we have guests, come say hi!"

"Coming, mama!" Y/n calls out in response, quickly glancing in the mirror to make sure her pair is in place "Just give me a sec!" She swiftly smoothed out her outfit and gave herself one last look before making her way downstairs to join her family and the guests.

I entered the dining room, pausing when I saw Sienna and Marietta sitting at the table. I squeal, unable to contain my excitement. With a wide grin on Sienna's face, she stands up from the chair, running over to hug me with Marietta following calmy behind her.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you guys are here!" I yell, my voice laced with joy.

Marietta responds to my reaction with a small, awkward side hug in return. Her expression was somewhat reserved, and there was a hint of discomfort on her face, but whatever.

Y/n and her family, along with their guests settled around an elegant dining table. The lunch was a simple yet tasty Italian affair, with freshly baked bread, assorted meats, and a variety of local vegetables.

The group bowed their heads as Y/n's mother led grace, giving thanks for the food and their summer gathering. After everyone had thanked for the blessing, Y/n's mother looked up, a warm smile painting her face.

"How are your parents doing?" she asks Sienna and Marietta, her eyes flickering between the two young ladies. "Are they enjoying their summer?"

Sienna and Marietta exchanged glances before Sienna responded. "Our parents are doing well, Zia (aunt)" she replies, her voice soft. "They're kind of busy with l'azienda (the company) but I think they're enjoying their summer so far."

Y/n's mother nodded, a look of understanding on her face.

"That's wonderful to hear," she said. "Work can be hectic, but it's important to find some time to relax and enjoy the summer."

Sienna chimed in, a hint of playful sarcasm in her voice. "And of course, they're leaving us behind to fend for ourselves for a bit" she added, rolling her eyes playfully.

For the next 4 days, Y/n and her family spent all of their time setting up the house for guests. They put away their belongings, rearranged some of the furniture, and made sure everything was neat and organized.

As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, Y/n's family gathered in the van, getting ready to go pick up Nicole and her family from the airport.

Y/n and her family arrived at the airport and parked their car in the designated area. They made their way through the airport, following the signs to the arrival terminal.

Y/n's eyes darted around, eagerly searching amongst the crowd of people for signs of May or Nicole.

As Y/n's family scans the never-ending stream of people, she suddenly spots a familiar face not too far away. It was Oscar, standing beside his family.

She tapped on her mother's shoulder and whispered, "Mom, I think they're over there. I'm not sure if that's Oscar but it looks like him."

Y/n's mom squinted her eyes, scanning the crowd for Oscar. After a moment, she shook her head, not seeing him right away.

"Which one is he?" she asked, her gaze still searching.

Y/n pointed discreetly towards Oscar. "he's the one in the black shirt, standing by the charging port over there," Y/n said.

As her mom finally spotted Oscar and his family, she walked ahead, leading the way as her husband placed a gentle hand on Y/n's shoulder. The younger brother clung to Y/n's arm, looking around curiously.

The three of them approached Oscar and his family, Y/n's heart fluttering slightly as they got closer. She could make out their faces more clearly now.

As Y/n hugged May, her gaze wandered to Oscar, taking in his appearance. He looked good in the black shirt, the color complementing his features. Y/n felt that similar flutter of her chest again but quickly pushed down her thoughts, not allowing herself to accept or acknowledge them.

As the two families walked back to the parking lot, the dads and Oscar took charge of loading the suitcases into the back of the van. They piled them neatly, ensuring everything fit snugly and securely.

While the men were engaged in their task, Y/n found herself standing next to Oscar, feeling a bit awkward. She tried not to make it obvious that she was stealing glances at him as they waited.

Y/n glanced around, noticing that there seemed to be little space left in the trunk. She looked at the carry-on bag that she and May were holding onto. She cleared her throat and addressed Oscar somewhat awkwardly.

"Uh, is there still room for a carry-on in there?" she asked.

Oscar's dad, overhearing the question, replied, cutting off Oscar. "Sorry, but there isn't any room left back here. Don't worry, Edie and Hattie can place them in their row later."

She nods, whispering. "Oh, okay. Thank you"

As they all climbed into the van, the seating arrangement was determined. Y/n's dad took the driver's seat, while Oscar's dad sat in the front passenger seat (due to Y/m/n's insistence). Nicole, Y/n's mom, and Gabriel settled in the front row, while Edie and Hattie occupied the second row with a few carry-on bags. Leaving Y/n Oscar and May to sit together in the last row.

As May decided she wanted to take pictures from the window side, she asked Y/n if they could switch places. Y/n agreed, and soon enough, she found herself sitting next to Oscar.

As they sat side by side, the awkward silence between them was palpable. Y/n desperately tried to make small talk, breaking the uncomfortable silence between her and Oscar. However, her attempts seemed to fall flat and their conversation remained stiff and unnatural.

As me and Oscar sit beside each other, I felt the urge to break the awkward silence.

"Soo.. uh, are you excited to spend summer here?" I ask, my voice sounding a bit forced and uncomfortable.

Oscar only nodded, his gaze still fixed out the window. "Yeah, sure. It'll be nice to relax somewhere new I guess," he replied, his response sounding somewhat indifferent.

As I try to continue our stilted conversation, May suddenly taps my arm.

"Hey, Y/n, which one looks better?" she asked, holding up her phone with two different photos on the screen.

I lean closer to May, taking a better look at the photos.

"The second one looks better," I say, pointing to the screen. May hums in agreement, mumbling. "Thank you"

May immersed herself in photography again, but the desire to continue the conversation with Oscar lingered in my mind. However, I held back, hesitating to proceed.

My thoughts echoed back and forth in my head, "I know I shouldn't force it. He might not be interested anyway. I don't want to appear pushy anyway"

As the drive progressed, the ongoing traffic added to the time spent in the car, making it a slightly longer journey than expected. Y/n's exhaustion slowly crept up on her, and she found it increasingly difficult to stay awake.

Without realizing it, her head had gradually swayed to the side, coming to rest on Oscar's shoulder as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

As Y/n's head rested on his shoulder, Oscar felt a sense of slight shock, not expecting it. Nevertheless, he chose not to disturb the girl. After all, she had done nothing wrong to justify him waking her or reprimanding her.

He was fully aware of her close proximity, her head gently resting on his shoulder. However, he remained still, silently allowing her to sleep.

Edie who was sitting in front of a busy May and a sleeping Hattie, had a clear view of the scene unfolding between her older brother and the girl. She noticed how Y/n's head was resting on Oscar's shoulder, stirring a mix of confusion and surprise within her.

To get May's attention, Edie decided to annoy her, playfully waving her hand in front of her face until May finally looked her way.

Edie then pointed at the scene in the backseat, silently drawing May's attention to the situation between Y/n and Oscar.

May, sitting beside Y/n, was initially confused by the situation unfolding beside her. However, she decided to let it go and not dwell on it. Meanwhile, Edie continued stealing glances at her brother and Y/n.

Oscar, seeming unaware of his sisters' attention, plugged in his earphones, immersing himself in the music, and quietly ignored the outside world.

Oscar, noticing that they were nearing their destination, felt the need to wake Y/n up. However, he approached the task somewhat nonchalantly, his usual indifference surfacing.

He gave her arm a firm nudge, his tone a bit brusque. "Hey, wake up. Your dad said we're almost home," he said, his voice low, lacking any concern or tenderness.

Y/n gradually stirred from her slumber, her mind slowly returning to consciousness. As she felt Oscar's nudge and heard his voice, her eyes fluttered open, and confusion briefly clouded her mind.

Realizing that she had been sleeping on Oscar's shoulder, a feeling of embarrassment flushed her cheeks.

As she sat up straighter, her initial embarrassment was replaced by a slight annoyance. She was in no mood to deal with his attitude, and her mood instantly soured.

She turned her gaze toward Oscar, her voice carrying an undercurrent of frustration. "Thanks. You could've been a little gentler. A more pleasant way of waking someone up, you know."

Her annoyance was evident in her tone, but she tempered it, managing to hold back from sounding overly sassy or rude.

As the families entered the house, Y/n followed suit, lending a hand to Edie and Hattie with their luggage. Despite her lingering annoyance after Oscar's rude awakening, she shoved it aside momentarily and focused on assisting their guests.

Together, Y/n, Edie, and Hattie carefully maneuvered the suitcases toward the living room. The hustle and bustle of unloading and settling in filled the air.

As the initial commotion of entering the house and moving luggage started to subside, Y/m/n spotted an opportunity to gather everyone's attention.

She clapped her hands gently to get the group's focus. "Everyone, can I have your attention, please? I'll explain the room arrangements."

Everyone ceased their conversations and directed their focus towards her. The living room quieted down, and all eyes were on Y/m/n.

"Okay so, Nicole, Tim. You two will stay in the room in front of the one me and Y/d/n are staying in. Gabriel will stay in the room to the right of ours." she explains, her hands waving around. "May, your room will be right in front of Y/n's. Oscar, your room is beside Y/n's room." she continues. "Hattie your room will be beside Oscar's, and Edie yours is in front of Oscar's- Oh, and don't worry, all of your bedrooms have their own bathrooms."

After listening to her mother's instructions, the group exchanged their goodnight. Y/n led Edie and Hattie to their rooms.

"Here we are," Y/n says "If you guys need me or any help, just knock on my door okay? It's the one with my name on it," she begins to ramble nervously.

Edie and Hattie say their thanks and retire into the comfort of having their own rooms.

On her way back to her own room, Y/n bumps into May, who has just finished unpacking a small bag of clothes. Y/n seized the opportunity to ask, "So, how are you finding Italy so far?"

May smiled, tucking a few strands of stray hair behind her ear before replying, "It's pretty nice, the bed seems pretty comfy- but I'm thinking of swapping rooms with Osc. His room seems to have a better view than mine."

Y/n chuckled lightly at May's comment about trading rooms with Oscar. She soon bid May a cheerful goodnight, her laughter still lingering as she twisted the doorknob to her own room.

"Have fun room trading then," she said with a playful tone. "Goodnight, May."

May replied with a lighthearted goodnight.

"Sleep tight," she chimed in, bidding Y/n farewell with a tired smile. "See you in the morning."

After saying their goodnights, Y/n closed her bedroom door behind her. She swiftly changed into a fresh set of pajamas, relishing the comfortable fabric against her skin.

With fatigue setting in once more and the eventful day slowly catching up to her, Y/n wasted no time crawling into bed. She nestled beneath the covers, her body sinking into the softness of the sheets and pillows. Within moments, her eyes grew heavy, and she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

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series masterlist

#aceyalonso #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 smut #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau

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facioleeknow · 3 months ago

Text

The art of pleasure ch.6

Authority ° Lee Felix

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: SMUT 18+ only, college AU WC:1.6k +

TW: experienced Felix, inexperienced reader, intercourse, cumshots, sub Felix, Felix cries, mention of safe word, first time domming, grinding

A/N, another chapter after less than a week?? I'm spoiling you guys ahah ;), I hope you like the chapter and I also have a super important announcement regarding the story so go to my blog and find out <3

Han scrambled up at the voices and rushed to pull his pants and underwear up before the door swung open violently.

“Hyung, we're naked, you can't just come in!” Hannie whined like a baby, he was the baby of the trio after all. Changbin tsked at him and Chan simply rolled his eyes, it wasn't the first time they were naked around each other and clearly wouldn't be the last. Meanwhile you laid on the table, front and cheek completely squished against it. The tiredness from the previous day had gotten to you, maybe having your first time and another fuck not even 12 hours apart hadn't been a good idea. Hyunjin had treated you so well that you were barely sore in the morning but Hannie had been very intense and you were sure you would feel it the day after.

Cum started to sleep out of you and drip down your thighs but you were so tired, you just wanted to nap.

“Hey, baby, are you okay?” Chan's voice was soft, you had never heard such softness come from him even if he had always been nothing but wonderful to you. You hummed in response.

“Tired.” Chan giggled at your cute cheeks and droopy eyes.

“Let me clean you up, okay?” Another hum and then you heard shuffling behind you. A soft tissue came in contact with your soiled and puffy pussy and you immediately hissed at the touch and tried to scramble higher up the desk.

“Easy, baby, easy. I'm all done,” the tissue soon disappeared and was replaced by your soft panties and your shorts. Chan dragged a chair near you and then sat down, his legs spread enough to make room for you.

“Come here, baby, let's take a nap, yeah?”

You didn't let him tell you twice because you all but jumped on him and attached yourself to his body like a koala. Napping with Chris was your favorite activity in the world. As soon as your head hit his shoulder, your eyes closed. The last things you heard were the two older boys chastising Han.

“I can't believe you didn't make her cum!”

“She said it was fine, hyung!”

When you woke up, you were in a different position, on the couch with a jacket draped over your middle. You felt warm and content. 3racha was still working in front of you, how long had you been asleep for? You patted yourself for your phone.

“Chris?” Your voice was hoarse and tired. The three boys jumped in their seats at the sudden voice. Chan rolled close to you and studied your face as to find any sign of discomfort.

“Slept well baby?” His thumb gently drew circles on your warm cheek and you sighed and melted into the affection.

“Yes, very. Where is my phone?” Changbin, from behind Chan, handed you the device.

“Felix called and he texted, you should text him back,” Changbin had a naughty glint in his eyes, that could only mean one thing.

Felix was the only one of the boys that you were closer to, except for Chan. In all honesty, with all of his cuteness and kindness, the sunshine boy was very hard to dislike and you had no intention of trying.

Lixie:

Hey bubby, Binnie hyung told me you were sleeping, I wanted to know when you wanted to meet :D

You:

Hey Lixie <3

Sorry I was pretty tired, I had a date with Hyunjin last night and one with Han this morning

Lixie:

Are you okay? Sore? :(

You:

A little but don't worry, sweet boy, nothing I can't handle

Did you have a time in mind already for the hangout? <3

Lixie:

I was thinking next weekend, if it's not too early :D

You:

It's perfect Lixie, I'll see you next weekend

Lixie:

Rest well, bubby <3

Getting ready for the date with Felix was easy. You felt comfortable around him since you were already friends and the only one of the boys you were friendly with, except for Chan. The fact that you knew what to expect from intercourse in general also helped you greatly, sex now wasn't this big mystery to you anymore, albeit you still had a lot to learn.

You knocked on Felix's door excitedly, this lesson was gonna be fun, you could feel it.

“Hey bubby,” Felix opened the door with one of the biggest and brightest smiles you had ever seen. He was so precious. The boy quickly pulled you into his room.

“So, on the list that Chan gave me it said ‘domming’. Do you want to talk more about that?” your voice was firm and determined, you were excited to try and uncover this new side of you and to feel new things physically.

“Oh, hyung told you already…” his voice was lower than usual. Your hand gently covered his small one and then squeezed, as to spur him on.

“Yeah, I like to not have control, I like to do what other people tell me to do,” his cheeks were dusted with pink and his eyes were round and sparkly, you wanted to eat him up.

“That's okay, I think I can do that, do you have a safe word?”

“Yeah, it's gold league,” he chuckled. Of course it was game related, typical Felix.

“Okay, do you want to play?” a wink from you sent the boy into a blushing and stuttering mess.

“Yes!”

“Put your games on then, bubby.” Felix looked at you confused, but still got up and sat down in front of his computer. Oh how you loved when a man did what you told him, you were starting to feel the thrill some women got from dominating.

Right when Felix logged into League, you got up.

“Be a good boy, keep playing and let me have my fun, and maybe I'll let you cum at the end if I'm satisfied.” Felix looked at you with big round eyes, his bottom lip slightly jutted out and trembling. A small whimper escaped from his lips when you sat down on his lap, thick thighs on either way of his.

“Don't hold back or I won't touch you at all.” Felix nodded frantically while still trying to play, he was trying to focus but his mind zeroed on how good your weight felt on his half hard cock. You placed small feather light kisses all over his neck and shoulders, he was wearing a tank top and you almost wanted to cheer at the choice; more skin more surface to play with. When your tongue came in contact with his pulse point on his neck, Felix whimpered and started trembling underneath you, his cock pushed against his short and you could feel it deliciously throb through your panties.

“Miss, please,” he looked and sounded like he was about to shatter but, like a good boy, he kept playing his game. Your hips started to grind harshly on top of his bulge, your clit caught on his zipper so deliciously that in a matter of moments your underwear was ruined by your slick.

“You like to call your girls ‘miss’, Felix?” A whimper and a nod, “what a naughty boy.” At your words a wet patch of precum started to form on Felix's shorts. He was probably close and so were you, both of you were extremely worked up. You needed him inside.

With swift fingers you unbuttoned his shorts and pulled down his zipper. His cock stood proud in front of you, he wasn't as long as Hyunjin or as thick as Changbin and was even shorter than Han but you were sure he would feel good nonetheless.

“No underwear? Tsk, you're a bad boy.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he sobbed, a fat tear rolled down his cheek but was swiftly caught by your gentle hand.

“Its okay baby, I like bad boys.” Without any other words, you pulled your panties to the side and sank down on him. Two equally pleased moans sounded in the room. Your hips started moving almost immediately, you were too impatient to wait.

“Baby why don't you stop playing your games now and start playing with my little clit? If you can make me cum before you, I'll give you a reward,” your voice sounded sickly sweet like you had never heard before, and Felix complied immediately. His short, small and warm fingers worked wonders on your swollen bud, he was skilled and liked pleasuring others. With how worked up you were and with how good Felix's cock felt rubbing your walls back and forth it didn't take too long for you to feel that familiar pressure start to build inside your guts.

“Oh, baby keep going, I'm so so close.” Felix's hand applied even more pressure to your poor sensitive clit and you came with a long keen. Your hips slowed down while you rode out your high and Felix whined at the change.

“Miss, miss, can I please cum now?”

“Yes baby, whenever you want.” Your hips picked up the pace and increased it what to Felix seemed tenfold; you were so wet and warm and soft and smelled so good. Your voice was so nice and you took such a great care of him, he had to cum for you.

“Oh miss I'm coming, I'm coming.” You quickly pulled yourself up and off the chair. The front of your dress got shoved down impatiently by your clammy hands and you kneeled in front of your sweet boy.

“Why don't you cum all over me, baby boy?” A hand wrapped around his tiny dick and quickly began to jerk him off. Felix's hips lifted off the chair to follow the movement from your hand, his hands dug into the plush of the armrests.

Soon white ropes of cum landed on your chest and face while Felix whimpered and thrashed in the chair.

“Thank you miss,” the sunshine boy sent you a weak but bright smile and you cooed at the sight.

“You're welcome, baby.”

“Can I pick my reward now?”

@kflixnet

#straykidsland #kpop #reader insert #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #felix #felix x reader #felix smut #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #sub felix #stray kids au #stray kids college au #felix college au #felix au

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 7: It's Not A Date

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This chapter is just a little bit smaller than the others and it's a little bit of a filler, but I promise that it is preparing for the coming angst!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“I can’t believe you let him around those children. What were you thinking?” Annie asks wielding a curling iron like a sword. "He's a terrible influence!"

It was t-minus one hour and thirty minutes before the party started and Annie was doing your hair and makeup for the mission. Butcher decided that Ben and you would infiltrate and see if you could find anything suspicious inside, while Butcher, Frenchie, and Mm watched the streets outside the building.

Your chair was turned away from the scuffed vanity in Hughie's bedroom at the apartment the team shared. Why he had that you weren't sure, but you figured it must be for Annie. Her makeup bag, hair spray, gel, cream, curler, flat iron, and other paraphernalia was littering the soft butter colored top. There were more things sitting there than you knew the names of.

Annie had always been better at things like that than you. She'd done your hair and makeup for every high school dance and date you went on, so you'd agreed to let her do your hair and makeup for the mission. Not to mention you trusted her not to make you look too over the top or absolutely ridiculous.

As soon as she had gotten you into Hughie's bedroom she had practically pounced on you, demanding to know everything about the past few days that you had spent living in the apartment with Ben. You'd foolishly told her that you'd had to babysit the Wilson's children last night and she was horrified that you let them anywhere near him.

Granted you also would have had the same reaction if someone had told you that they had let Soldier Boy around little children.

But he wasn't terrible to them. You think to yourself. He was actually kind of sweet. It was the first time that you'd ever associate that word with Ben, but you believed that it was true. You remember how he sat with Marty at the kitchen table and allowed her to make a friendship bracelet for him. A bracelet, that he hadn't thrown away, despite what he'd told you after she gave it to him. You'd found it on the sink in the bathroom this morning when you got up, given a place of honor in the ceramic jewelry dish you used for your bracelets.

After Ben had gone out on his "date" you'd cleaned up, made your last cup of noodle, and then went to bed hoping to forget exactly what Ben was doing. The problem was that you were disappointed and you had no idea why. You'd tossed and turned thinking about Ben and the time you'd spent together watching the kids, until finally falling into an unsatisfying slumber.

Ben had sauntered through the front door at 3 am smelling like perfume and sweat, his hair tousled and standing up like someone had ran their fingers through it, while you were drinking a calming herbal tea from your favorite mug at the kitchen table in a post-nightmare haze. You'd had them your whole life following the accident that took the lives of your parents and was thankful that one hadn't hit when Ben was home. You didn't want to explain to him why you had woken up screaming and gasping for air just as you’d done since you were twelve years old.

When you'd first moved in to the apartment and you'd had the nightmare, Mike had banged against your front door, shouting for you to answer. He'd thought that someone was trying to kill you in the middle of the night, but you'd explained to him that you had nightmares and that you were okay.

The next time it happened, Mike's mother had left a large basket of herbal tea and homemade muffins outside the door of your apartment. Even though the muffins were almost inedible, it was incredibly sweet. You might not have wanted to date Mike, but he and his mother were some of the sweetest people you'd ever met.

When he saw you up, Ben had made a comment about you waiting up for him and stated that he was ready to go again if that's what you wanted, but you'd only waved your hand and rolled your eyes while taking another sip from the mug. You weren’t in the mood, not when you could still feel the chill of sweat against your skin and hear the sound of metal on concrete from the dream. He had sat at the table across from you and asked why you were still awake, you'd lied and told him that you couldn't sleep. You knew that he knew you were lying, but he only shrugged and went to take a shower while you finished your tea and fled to your bedroom to avoid him coming out in a towel again.

"He wouldn't leave. What was I supposed to do? Make him walk the plank?" You respond as Annie inserts the warm curling iron into your hair.

"He's just so-" She tugs your hair back as she curls it.

"It wasn't as bad as you think.” You consider thinking about how he let Martha make him a friendship bracelet and how he had held Joshua and made Joshua laugh. "He was actually kind of nice to Marty and to Josh.”

"Nice? Are you crazy! The guy's got a nuclear reactor in his chest and an uncontrollable temper. Why do you think it would be okay for him to be around children?”

"He didn't get angry or lose control. And I can't believe you're chastising me about this, the other day you were all for Ben and me sleeping together!"

"That wouldn't involve children." She takes another piece of your hair, gently wrapping it around the curling iron.

"Yeah, but it would still be him close to another human being-"

“He seems to be perfectly in control when he has sex. Or else there would be a string of destroyed apartments all over manhattan.”

"I can't believe you." You huff.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Have you guys kissed again?" She asks.

"I shouldn't have told you that." You grumble under your breath. "And can you keep your voice down? Ben can hear you."

He was in his old bedroom getting ready for the mission. The bedroom was exactly next to Annie and Hughie's bedroom, and you were sure that he was listening to Annie and you talk.

Because he can't keep his big nose out of anything. You think. Or rather can't keep his perfectly structured nose out of other people's business.

"I'm sure he has better things to do than listen to the two of us talk." Annie responds, but she begins to blast the ABBA gold album from her Bluetooth speaker, filling the room with the sound of 'Our Last Summer' "Come on-"

"Come on what?" You open one of your eyes to glare at her. "I told you it wasn't going to happen again."

"Why not?"

"You know why not. Ben is- Ben. And I don't want to waste my time with someone who's not interested in having a relationship." You shut your eye again to avoid her gaze.

"It's not a waste of time if he looks like that-" She trails off, inserting the curling iron one more time.

"I will agree that Ben is good-looking, but that's all he is. He doesn't care about other people, he only cares about himself and what feels good." You say it, but for the first time since you'd met Ben you weren't sure if it was true. Not after he spent his entire day yesterday helping you with the kids and not after he had bought you that bookshelf.

He cared enough to get that for you. A little voice whispers. But why? You wonder again. Why would he care about something as little as a bookshelf?

"You're making that face again." Annie says. "Did something happen?"

"No. I mean- he-" You sigh to yourself. "He keeps confusing me."

"How?"

"Well the other day he bought me a bookshelf."

"What? Why?"

"Because he said that stack of books in my bedroom was annoying him." You roll your eyes behind your eyelids.

"Why was he in your bedroom?" Annie's smirk is audible and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Shut up. He needed some clothes and I had some from the last time Darren stayed with me-"

Annie audibly groans when you mention your brother's name. They didn't get along. She thought that he was manipulative and that he used you. But you didn't see it. He was your brother, your blood, the only family you had left beside your grandmother and Annie.

"Please tell me he's not coming by soon. If he does I will be busy doing anything else."

"I don't know why the two of you can't just get along-" You sigh.

"Because he's the worst." Annie states loudly, dropping the curling iron and bringing the mascara brush up to your eyes.

"Can we please not have this conversation again?"

"Fine. Close." Annie holds up the mascara brush to your eyes. "Did you at least join one of those online dating apps or try to go on a date?"

"It’s been 3 days since we last talked about this-“ You feel the gentle stroke of the brush against your eyelashes.

“So?”

“No I haven’t.”

"Y/n-"

"I know, I know. I mean Jake did try to ask me out the other day but-"

"He WHAT?" Annie squeals, awkwardness about your brother forgotten. "Next time lead with that! Did you go out with him? Did you guys talk all night long?" Annie is hoping from foot to foot now, practically dancing to the music still blasting from the speaker on the dresser.

"I said no." You open your eyes to look at your friend.

"WHAT! Why?" She looks like you kicked a puppy. "He's so perfect for you! He likes plants and he's funny and he's got a great sense of humor, plus he's gorgeous and he's interested in you-"

"First he wanted to do something today and I knew Butcher had plans for me. Second, I didn't know he was asking me out, Ben told me he was." You close your eyes again so Annie can continue to do your makeup.

"Wait, Ben was there when he asked you out?"

"We went to IKEA to get a couch for the apartment and Jake showed up and asked me out." You explain.

"You took Ben to IKEA?"

"He'd never gone there before, can you believe that?" It made you smile as you remembered how surprised he had been when you went inside. You’d had fun with him, walking around, testing out the couches, it almost felt… normal. And you kind of got the impression that Ben had a good time too. It was kind of cute when he did everyday things, when you saw him in normal settings and he was just a little bit awkward because he still couldn't figure out how to act in another time period.

"Yes I can, he's a million years old. Let's circle back to you saying no to the PERFECT man."

"He's not a million." You defend Ben. "And Jake's not perfect." You frown to yourself, thinking about the fact that Jake wasn't a supe. It wasn't something that you had cared about before, but ever since Ben brought up the idea of you "snapping Jake in half" it scared you.

Because what if I did? What if I hurt him? You didn’t know how Ben had sex so often with people who weren't supes. Maybe he just doesn't care if he does. Or maybe he’s done it so much that he’s able to control himself.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked him?"

"I mean I do. He's kind and he understands me and he loves plants as much as I do, but-" You shrug, feeling Annie begin to apply eyeliner. "I don't want to make things complicated. I mean we work together, he’s my boss. What if it doesn’t work out? Then I’d have to quit and I like my job.”

“I mean that’s kind of hot-“

“Hot in what? A sexual harassment kind of way?”

“No. It’s not harassment if it’s two consenting adults.”

“I’m still not sure that it’s a good idea.” You mutter more to yourself. But this time your mind didn’t go to Jake and you having a relationship even though he was your boss, instead it goes right to Ben. You can't help but slip into the fantasy of dating Ben, of you and him trying something new-

You shake off the image. He doesn’t want a relationship, doesn’t think that’s important. The thought is almost like a mantra, trying to convince yourself to push past Ben’s charm and good looks, but this time it makes you consider something else. Maybe he doesn’t think it’s important now, but maybe he used to think it was before Countess.

You’d heard the stories, seen the newspaper articles and clips of film of Ben and her together, remembered what Hughie said that Ben had wanted a family with her that Ben had told her that he loved her. That meant at some point in Ben’s life he had loved someone else, cared for them, wanted to be more than just fuck buddies.

Maybe he's just afraid to fall again, because he's not sure someone else will be there to catch him. Maybe Ben doesn't want to admit that he cares for anyone else because he's afraid that they'll push him away or stab him in the back the way that Countess did. And maybe he hides it all underneath the macho attitude.

Ben is strong. He told me that he didn't need anyone else. You press your lips together in a tight line. But I think he does.

You hated that she’d hurt him. You hated that she’d pushed him away, told him she never loved him, and stabbed him in the back. You couldn’t imagine doing that to someone, telling them that you loved them, and manipulating them with the promise of love. It almost made you nauseous to consider it. It made you want to travel back in time to the moment she stabbed him in the back and shove a bouquet of sunflowers up where the sun don't shine.

You pause on the thought. You weren't a terribly violent person, but if someone ever hurt your friends your anger was legendary, practically divine. You'd never thought that you'd want to do something for Ben, but you were realizing more and more that Ben was becoming your friend. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

“Alright what if he wasn’t your boss.” Annie gently brushes eyeshadow over your eyelids. “Then would you go out with him?”

“But he is my boss.”

“Use your imagination.”

The song has ended and there’s an awkward pause between the end of it and the slow beginning of the next one.

“I mean yes?” You shrug. “I can see myself with him. He’s the kind of person I’d want to date. He cares about other people, he remembers what kind of coffee I like, he actually contributes to the conversation, he makes me laugh, he actually gets my jokes, he’s nice to sit with, he doesn’t get under my skin-“ As you list each of those things you couldn't stop your mind from comparing Jake to Ben. You didn't know when Ben became the level by which you judged other men, but it had happened sometime in the past few days and you didn't know what it meant.

But Ben did remember what kind of coffee I like and he does contribute to conversations, well, he contributes with a disgusting comment… The thought trails off when you remember the small conversations that you'd had with Ben that weren't sexual in nature, when the two of you watched the movie on the couch and talked briefly about your parents, when Ben asked you how your day was the other day back at the apartment, and when the two of you talked on the couch while the children slept between the two of you. In those moments you had seen another side of Ben, the side that he seemed to hide away from everyone else, but not from you, not all the time.

Plus Ben is kind of funny sometimes, disgusting but funny. Doesn’t understand my jokes. And yes he gets under my skin but sometimes it’s kind of exciting and nice to have that happen. With Jake sometimes he’s just too happy or too eager to agree with me.

"Hmm." Annie considers. "How did Ben react when Jake asked you out?”

You don’t answer immediately. “Normal.”

"You hesitated"

"No I didn’t."

"Yes you did! He reacted didn’t he?!” Annie pokes you with her finger

"No he didn’t.” You lie.

“He did! Holy shit he was jealous wasn’t he?”

"No he wasn’t.” You swat her hand away. "He was just opinioned."

He sure looked jealous. You think to yourself remembering the way he glared at Jake from the other side of the room. The memory of the way his eyes darkened when he told you exactly why he wasn't jealous and exactly what he would do to you to make you forget all about Jake sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Yeah. Opinionated over why you shouldn't go out with Jake because Ben wants you all to himself." Annie crows.

"Shut-"

"But it doesn't matter. Because Ben's going to have a heart attack when he sees you wearing this." Annie steps back from you. "My work here is done. Try to make it to the mission without ripping each other's clothes off."

"We are not going to-"

Annie spins your chair back to the mirror and your next words dry up.

Your hair is perfectly curled back from your face, the lipstick is a dark shade of crimson that makes your lips look fuller and more plump, the eye make up is dark and dusky making the color of your eyes pop against the darkness in a mysterious alluring way that seems almost hypnotic, and your face is shaded and contoured so well that you look dangerous and sexy.

"I'll take the silence as a 'Thank you Annie! You're so beautiful and talented and you're the best friend I've ever had!'" She laughs, standing back behind you with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I mean all of that is true, but-" You stand up from the chair to get a better look. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Well thank you. Had to. It's your first date with Ben." She makes goo-goo eyes and you try to punch her in the shoulder, but she dodges it.

"Shut up. It's not." You look down at the dress that Butcher picked out for you to wear. "I love you, but I hate Butcher."

The dress was a red scrap of fabric that clung to your curves, but left very little to the imagination. It was completely backless with an exaggerated wrinkle that fell just over the top of your ass. The front was sinched at the back of your neck secured only by a small piece of fabric that you were afraid would break at any moment and fell open in a "v" that stopped just under the swell of your breasts. There was a large prominent slit that cut up the left side of the floor length gown that stopped just shy of the top of your thigh. Annie had cinched a black choker around your neck to match the black pair of stilettos you wore

Personally, you though that the stilettos were overkill, you had no idea how the hell you were going to run after the supe if you saw him, let alone fight him.

"You look so hot." Annie says pleased. "You really should wear that all the time babe. I'd take you out to dinner just to show you off."

"You're the worst." You groan.

"I love you too honey." She winks. "Now come on. Butcher and the others are waiting for us." She turns off the speaker and walks out the door of the bedroom, but you linger there, looking at yourself in the mirror one more time.

You'd never worn anything remotely like this before, but even you had to admit, you looked good.

“Come on Poppet. You can’t hide in there forever.” Butcher chuckles from the living room.

He’s having too much fun with this. You huff to yourself finally leaving the bedroom to make your grand entrance, grabbing the black bejeweled clutch as you do.

Butcher, Frenchie, Annie, and Hughie are waiting outside the door while Kimiko sits on the couch scribbling away.

Hughie's mouth drops open, Butcher gives an approving shrug, and Frenchie lets out a breath.

"You look beautiful." Frenchie takes your hand and gives you an appreciative twirl.

"Shut up." Your cheeks redden.

Hughie is still looking speechless at you. "I told you." Annie states elbowing him with a proud smile.

“You look-“ Hughie stutters.

“Good enough to eat.” Ben finishes, appearing in the hallway to your right. His hand traces the curve of your hip, thumb ghosting over your bare back.

“Just because I’m dressed like a hooker, doesn’t mean my brain’s not working.” You slap his hand away ignoring the warm feeling that remains where he touched you. You could feel your heart beat begin to pick up in your chest.

“Baby I love your brain-“ Ben smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t love your body more.”

You felt your cheeks turn the same shade as your dress with his compliment before you can stop them. It was difficult to pretend that you didn't feel any attraction for him, not when he looked so good.

He had trimmed his beard and brushed back his dark hair, so you could see his emerald colored eyes gleaming. He was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt, but chose not to wear a black tie, instead unbuttoning the top few buttons to give just a hint of his muscular chest beneath.

Why does he have to look so good all the damn time?

“Shut up.” You grumble turning back to Butcher. “So are you happy? I dressed up, my IQ dropped a billion points.”

“Ecstatic poppet.” Butcher grins taking a sip from the cup of tea in his hand. “Now remember anything happens, you detain the supe, no killing."

“He’s talking to you.” You elbow Ben.

Ben shrugs. “I won't apologize for doing my job."

You sigh again and walk towards where Kimiko is writing in one of her workbooks on the couch.

"You look hot." She signs at you.

It had been difficult to learn the sign language she used, but you liked to think that you had a handle on it so you could understand simple conversations. When things got too confusing she would use her phone.

"I know. I was mad at Butcher at first for picking this dress, but I kind of like it." You sign back. "Don’t tell Butcher I said that."

She crosses her fingers over her heart. "Soldier Boy is looking at you."

"He’s always looking at me. I'm glad I can't read minds. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking."

Kimiko snorts, raising her hand to sign "I think the look on his face says it all."

You half turn and look at where Ben is again, he’s not talking to Butcher like you thought he was, he’s staring at you, pupils dilated, eyes darkening in a way that makes your heart feel like it's beating so hard it'll explode out of your ribcage.

No. No. Keep it together. Heart of a warrior.

"You two have fun!" Annie smirks widely, taking a picture of Ben and you like you're going to prom and you know she's going to send the photo to taunt you with it later.

“Shall we?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Ladies first.” Ben smirks.

You roll your eyes at him as you walk to the front door of the apartment. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman Gramps. We both know you just want to look at my ass.”

“I’ll never get tired of looking Doll, especially not when you’re wearing something like that.”

A/N: I know this chapter is a little bit of a filler, but I wanted to give Annie and the reader some time together, aka. Annie telling the reader to do the one thing that we ALL know she should do. 😂

Taglist:

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@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

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@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #billy butcher #annie january #hughie campbell

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thatfandomslut · 9 months ago

Text

Fighting For You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: reader was in the Burn Book, arguing, make outs

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 4 and piece of chocolate 7. Or: “So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard. We’re gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.” w/ falling in love

Valentine's / Follower's Celebration requests are closed.

Regina lay in the hospital bed wanting desperately to get up. She couldn't believe that she forgot to take out the page of the Burn Book about (Y/n). While she knew she was in the wrong, it was only made worse when she realized how distinct (Y/n)'s handwriting was when she held the page up to Regina with her eyes filled with tears. '(Y/n) (L/n), even more weird and gay than Janis Imi'ike.' While she felt the insult was tamer than the others, she still knew the gravity it held (Y/n). Hurting (Y/n) felt worse than getting hit by a bus, and Regina now knew both from experience.

With a groan, she reached over to find her phone on the side table, wincing when she stretched too far. When her fingers finally caught the sides of the phone, she drew it closer and held her phone up to where she could see it. Still nothing. (Y/n) hasn't responded to any of her calls or Regina's numerous messages. She was beginning to feel desperate for (Y/n)'s attention. This was something she wasn't used to feeling as she typically didn't have to beg for others to notice her. However, (Y/n) was proving harder and harder to get in touch with. So, it resulted in her finally giving in and calling the last person she thought she'd ever call, Janis Imi'ike.

It rang a few times, and Regina was about to just end the call when she heard a confused 'hello' on the other end. "Janis, perfect," she said, smirking to herself feeling like she finally found an in. "Is there any way you can get me in touch with (Y/n)? She's been ignoring all of my phone calls, and I just want to talk to her." The sooner the better. Regina was due for another dosage of her medicine, and her medication made her incredibly loopy.

There was an annoyed sigh from the other end. Regina gave a side-eye to her phone, despite Janis not even being able to see her. "Regina, first, why do you still have my number? We haven't talked since eighth grade." She stated over the phone, hoping Regina understood how strange it was to receive this call. At the same time, there was a bit of sympathy in her voice. "As for, (Y/n), whatever you wrote about her in the book, and yes, we know you had a part in it, really hurt (Y/n). I'll talk to her, but there that's all I can do. And, I can't make any promises that she'll want to talk to you." Janis said before hanging up, leaving Regina a bit more deflated.

She knew that Janis still might not be able to get (Y/n) to call. Regina also completely understood why (Y/n) was so upset. If it was the other way around, Regina would be plotting her revenge. She knew that (Y/n) deserved her space and that she couldn't force her way in, but she couldn't lose her. The only person that seemed to be inflicting any positive change in Regina was (Y/n). Now, there was a chance she might've ruined it forever, and that absolutely killed her. When the doctors came in to give her the medication, she sighed and decided to try and sleep.

When Regina woke up, she wasn't expecting (Y/n) to be seated beside her chair. She almost thought that she imagined the girl as she flipped through her chapter book. Her vision was still too bleary to see what the book was exactly. But a smile crept on her face as she looked over (Y/n) in a sleepy haze. "You came," she said, her words slurring slightly. It was a tell-tell sign that she was drugged up on medicine. (Y/n) looked up in surprise before a small smile appeared on her lips. Regina could barely see it but she recognized the small upturn of (Y/n)'s lips anywhere. "I thought you weren't gonna come," Regina spoke, peering up at the girl.

In an attempt to sit up, she smiled wide. "I wasn't planning on coming." (Y/n)'s words almost sobered Regina up instantly. There was a look of thought on (Y/n)'s face. Regina always knew when she was thinking because her brows would furrow and she would look down to whatever was at her feet. "Look, what you did was mean, but I want to forgive you. It’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard. We’re gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.” (Y/n) told her with a sheepish smile playing on her lips.

Regina swore that it was misty in the room all of a sudden. Her normally icy blue eyes were mellow and kind. "Okay, yeah, we'll work on it together." She said, holding out her hand. (Y/n) took it carefully, wondering if Regina would even remember this later. She wanted to say it when Regina was sober, but her thoughts were finally in one place, and the words spilled out naturally. Regina played with (Y/n)'s fingers as she danced in and out of sleep with (Y/n) in the room. While the air between them was still tense, there was a new calm that settled over the room. Regina felt more safe and comfortable with (Y/n) by her side. It almost made her forget about the corrective neck collar around her throat.

The two were fully aware forgiveness wasn't going to come overnight, nor would it be awarded just because Regina was in an accident. The two would need to work together, and when Regina felt better, there was bound to be a long discussion on the events. But, for now, (Y/n) decided it was okay to provide some temporary forgiveness as she allowed Regina to clutch her hand. The steady sound of the heart monitor beeping let (Y/n) know Regina was still there, and she fell into the same state of peace Regina was in.

#regina george x reader #regina x reader #regina george #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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peachsukii · 2 months ago

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𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

( chapter 6 - Tourniquet )

『 ♡ bakugo x fem!reader ; pro-heroes au | friends to lovers 』

꒰ summary ꒱ Devastating news is dropped in your lap about your future career as a pro hero. A few days in the hospital leaves you listless about life in general before being sent back home to reality. Even though your environment hasn't changed, your world has been rocked and coming back down to earth feels impossible. Thankfully, Bakugo's more than patient with you and willing to walk you back into normalcy, one day at a time.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ suggestive themes (nothing graphic), PTSD, cursing, talks of trauma, lots of medical talk & diagnosis | sweet confessions, soft bakugo, angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, friends to lovers

꒰ masterlist // cross-posted to ao3 // word count: 8.1k ꒱

~ TIME: 7:15AM - Hospital (One Hour Earlier)

"I'll help you back into bed and then we can go over your test results." Saki carefully assists you out of the wheelchair and lifts you into the hospital bed, gracefully tucking you into the sheets.

"We received the toxicology report and bloodwork results while we performed the MRI. We were unable to decipher what drugs were administered during your time in the compound, but it affected your quirk factor tremendously."

"What does that mean?" you question. Before all of this, you had no idea a quirk factor could even be manipulated, let alone damaged.

"In plain terms, your quirk being forced to activate caused it to weaken in strength. Your bloodwork thankfully confirmed you do not have any bacterial infections from the injections you were given, however," Saki pauses to grab her clipboard from the countertop. "The EKG results showed signs of an arrhythmia, which is common among drug related issues."

You don't say anything, too weary to form a cognitive thought about everything she's telling you.

"I know this is a lot to process, we don't expect you to make heads or tails of it today. We'll be keeping you for one more day for observation while we create a treatment plan for your recovery. This means you may not be able to return to pro hero work for sometime." Saki takes your hand in hers. "Get some rest for now. I'll be back in a bit to check on you."

All you can do is nod while settling into the bed, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. The thoughts swirling in your head are making you dizzy alongside the pain killers they've hooked you up to. It doesn't take long for your eyes to feel too heavy to hold open, drifting off to sleep, avoiding the weight of your reality for a little while longer.

A familiar figure approaches you in an empty room, a shadow standing in front of you.

"Hey," a familiar voice greets - your voice. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

"I don't know who you are."

Yes, in fact, you do. You're too afraid to face the truth. Demons don't vanish overnight, they become apart of you.

"What do you want?"

She moves closer, extending her hand out to you. "Come with me."

Calm down, it's only a dream...right?

You take her hand, walking with her into the nothingness of your mind. She halts, staring forward before turning her gaze toward you. It's the same reflection you saw in the compound that one night, but she looks...sad, not wicked.

"We're in this together now."

We?

There's no way she's comforting you right now.

"Don't believe me? Think about what I am."

That's when it hits you all at once - she's the manifestation of your trauma. She’s gotta be, there’s no other explanation. Or is she a leftover hallucination from the drugs?

"You can't erase me, I'm part of you now."

You begin to speak as she's fading away into the ether, hiding in your thoughts as you fall into too deep of a sleep to continue dreaming.

~ TIME: 8:40AM - Hospital (Current Time)

Bakugo's hesitant to ask for clarity. "What...does that mean?"

Saki continues. "The narcotics she was forced to take are unlike anything we've seen in recent years, which is, unfortunately, to be expected from an underground experimental drug ring. It's all homemade and untraceable, but what we can conclude is that it did do detrimental damage to her quirk factor by forcing it to activate against her will for long periods of time. It also explains the mild heart arrhythmia we found during her EKG."

Silence cuts through the hallway, the world going quiet as Bakugo ruminates on her words. If only he was faster that night, none of this would have happened. You'd be safe and sound, lying on the couch together without a care in the world.

That day feels so long ago.

"I know this is tough to swallow," Saki says quietly. "But it's not impossible for her to regain strength. We have a specialized rehab program for quirk degeneration that would benefit her recovery, it'll be awhile until she's back to full strength. The hospital offers a wonderful PTSD therapy program as well."

"How long's awhile?" Bakugo presses.

"It's hard to say for certain as it depends on her recovery speed. Some see results in a few months, but it could be a year or more."

A whole fucking year? All because...no, he can't keep blaming himself. But goddammit, he's furious about the whole situation.

"I have a few other patients to get through this morning, but I'll be back soon to check on her and let you know any further updates," Saki adds as she's hurrying down the hall and into another room. Bakugo exhales the breath he was unconsciously holding as he returns to your room and sits in the chair by the window, picking up his book to pass the time.

He may as well be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders knowing his intuition was right.

~ TIME: 9:17AM - Hospital

It wasn't long until Midoriya showed up to the hospital with your mother in tow, quietly peaking into the room to see if you were awake. Bakugo looks up from his book, giving them a silent nod of acknowledgement. He gets up from his seat and ushers them out into the hallway to avoid disturbing your much needed sleep. Your mother locks her arms around Bakugo before he can reciprocate, squeezing until she couldn't anymore.

"Thank you, Katsuki," she mumbles into his chest. She lets go of him, taking a step back to compose herself. "Do you know when she'll wake up?"

"She's not in a coma," Bakugo explains. "Just restin' up. Nurse told me the painkillers make her sleepy."

The immediate look of worry drops from your mother's face.

"Oh, okay. Do you know anything else?"

Midoriya glances at Bakugo - his expression doesn't give Midoriya confidence on your condition.

"Her quirk factor's been damaged. Otherwise, she's fine." Bakugo tries to keep it together while giving a minimal explanation. He knew the more information he'd pile on to your mom, the more she'd spiral and endlessly worry about your condition. "Said there's a program to help her strengthen it again. I'll let her fill in the blanks for ya when she wakes up since I haven't gotten a chance'ta talk to her today."

"That's great news!" Midoriya chirps, trying to lighten the mood. A brief pause falls upon the three of them when a noise comes from your room, a groan and the sound of rustling sheets. Your mother takes a step back and peeks inside to see you moving around, signaling that you're awake - alive.

"Honey!" she cries, running to your side to scoop you up into an awkward hug. "My sweet girl, I am so glad you're alright."

You're barely awake enough to register who's speaking, let alone touching you. Your eyes flicker open to see the boys at the foot of your bed while your mother's face is burrowing into your shoulder.

"M-mom?" you question. "Not...not so tight. Everything still hurts."

She lets you go, apologizing under her breath and moving to cradle your face in her hands. "I'm sorry sweetie, I'm happy that you're safe."

"It's okay," you murmur, groggy from all the medicine flowing through your system.

Midoriya walks to the opposite side of the bed to place a hand on your shoulder and offers you a bright smile. "How are you feeling?"

You know Midoriya means well, but that question may as well be an invisible gun, locked and loaded with all your traumatic memories ready to fire at any time. It's only a fraction of a second, but one glance in Bakugo's direction tells him all he needs to know. Your eyes hold a certain type of despondence to them - not rage or fear, but grief.

"I'm alright!" you affirm, a fake smile plastered on your face. "Dizzy, but okay."

Bakugo's heart sinks.

He knows you're lying through your teeth.

"Tell me everything," your mother pleads as she takes one of your hands in hers, carefully running her fingers over your palm like she used to when you were a kid. She winces at all the bruises littering your arms, tears pricking the corners of her eyes from seeing her little girl in such a weakened state. As if she was summoned, Saki appears in the doorway once more, returning from her round of checkups.

"Oh! You've got a full house," she jokes as she treads over to your mother. "Hi, I'm Saki, Y/N's nurse. You must be mom, pleased to meet you. The boys have been very kind and understanding while your daughter's been in our care."

"What can I say, they're both one of a kind." She wavers, thinking of how to phrase the dreaded question rattling in her head. "Can you go over all of the test results with us, please?"

Saki takes a minute to rummage through her stack of files and flips one open.

"Of course, have a seat."

Medical Chart Patient: Y/N Age: 23 Gender: Female Hero Alias: Y/H/N Admitted @ 11:30PM - BP 132/81 (Hypertension) - Upper thigh wound - Patient conscious but severely dehydrated & dazed - Victim of a drug experimentation ring, unknown substances consumed for 30+ calendar days - Started IV of nicardipine/vitamin c/saline to lower BP & re-hydrate - Dissolvable stitches & adhesive for thigh wound - Administered 5mg of morphine IV for pain relief 2:40AM - EKG, MRI & Bloodwork/Toxicology performed - BP 121/62 (Elevated) - Administered additional 5mg of morphine IV for pain relief - Started second round of saline solution via IV to flush leftover substances 7:00AM - BP 114/58 (Normal) - EKG Results: Irregular heart rate - mild heart arrhythmia detected - MRI Results: No abnormalities or long-term internal damage Bloodwork Results: CBC (WBC: 3,200 RBC: 2.9, HGB: 10.1) Metabolic Panel (Glucose - 45mg) Unknown substance found in sample, potentially causing health degeneration Diagnosis: Patient is clear of any long standing terminal illness, no internal injury found during testing. Return for a follow up EKG and determine if beta blockers are needed for arrhythmia. Unknown substance found in toxicology report - appears to be non-lethal but has acted as a poison to the patient’s body, causing an infection. Bloodwork revealed low levels of Glucose as well as lowered red & white blood cell counts. Quirk factor has been affected, rehab is needed to regain strength. Patient recommended to finish a round of antibiotics during detox. Patient should refrain from working until further notice. Follow up with a psychological evaluation for further treatment regarding potential withdraw and PTSD.

"Do you have any questions?" Saki queries, eyes trailing back and forth between you and your mother.

"So..." Her words start sinking in as you struggle to find your own. "My quirk regressed due to the drugs, gave me a blood infection and a potential heart problem. And I can't continue to be a hero?"

The room stills, your question anxiously hanging in limbo. Saki's response cuts through the dead air like a knife. "That is correct."

Everyone around you begins to press further, but it all becomes TV static to your ears as your vision tunnels on the tiniest specks in the linoleum flooring, finding anything else to think about. The weight of your current reality is catching up to you and the only response you can muster is to shut everything out.

Seems like you're fresh out of miracles.

~ TIME: 9:49AM - Hospital

After the nuclear news about your health, your mother decided it was best to head back home, leaving you in the loving care of the boys.

"If you need anything, please call me, honey," she sighs over your shoulder in an embrace. "I'm happy you're back, safe and sound. Don't worry, you're a strong woman, sweetie. You'll get back on your feet in no time."

Yeah...strong.

What if you didn't want to be strong? What if you want to fall apart and let it all go?

"I love you. Please call me when you get released and let me know what's going on. If you don't," she shifts her focus to Bakugo. "I'll call Katsuki, he doesn't sugar coat anything."

"Mom!" you whine, shaking your head in embarrassment. "I'll call you, promise."

She nods while walking to the doorway, Midoriya tailing behind her to drive her back to Musutafu. He gives you a nod as he disappears into the hallway. A few seconds pass until you have the guts to look in Bakugo's direction at the end of the hospital bed. His eyes are cautiously studying your body language, trying to decode how you're truly feeling, but goddammit, he's terrified to ask.

"Kat?" Your voice is meek, barely above a whisper.

He can practically hear his heart begin to fracture at the crack in your voice. He knows what's coming. And honestly? He's not sure if he can handle seeing you in such a broken state. Your dream was shattered in front of everyone you love.

"Yeah?"

You can feel your lower lip start to wobble as you hold the words on your tongue, eyes screwed shut and the sheets tightly balled in your fists.

"Can you...hold me?"

Bakugo reaches for the collar of his shirt and pulls on it timidly. He can't be gutless right now, you need him - now more than ever. You hear the shuffle of his feet approach the side of the bed, followed by the sheets being gently lifted to make room for him to sit down. When you finally look up with glassy eyes, his head is tilted with one arm extended in your direction, welcoming you without any further uncertainty. You blink a few times, tucking your legs inward and carefully stretching them over his lap, scooting closer until you're curling up into his chest. Strong arms make their way around your body, encasing you with a comfort you've hopelessly missed. The embrace he wraps you in feels like a homecoming and stronger than any armor you could wear.

"S'only you and me," Bakugo whispers, cradling your head against him. "I got ya."

It hits you like a hurricane, the storm of emotions surging through you with an intensity you've never felt before. There's no use in holding it in anymore. And so, you let the rain fall, sobbing, snotty and sniveling, shrinking into a scared little girl in his arms.

He's always despised the rain, but in this moment? Bakugo's found a new hatred for it.

~ The Following Day: Discharge - Hospital @ 5:53PM

Two days in the hospital and its felt like an eternity. A handful of antibiotics and withdrawal medication, a recommendation to a psychiatrist and quirk rehabilitation treatment plan later, they're ready to send you on your merry way. The boys have been a blessing in the last two days with Midoriya taking care of your mom while Bakugo's been by your side for whatever you need, no matter how big or small. Bringing you comfy clothes, sneaking in snacks, and reading a book out loud until you fell asleep being the short list of niceties.

How the hell are you ever going to being able to pay him back for all these selfless sweet nothings?

"Ready to go, Lite-brite?" Bakugo double-checks while taking a second glance around the room, a backpack thrown over his shoulder. "Izuku's at the checkout desk to get all your paperwork for the agency."

You nod. "More than ready. Let's get the hell outta here."

Bakugo holds out his hand for you to take. Without meaning to, you pause.

"What?" He pouts, taking a half-step back to give you space. "Don't wanna hold my hand?"

"Of course I do." You take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. "Didn't mean to make you think otherwise."

He hopes you don't notice the obnoxious amount of sweat coating his palm under yours, or the intense thumping of his heartbeat through his fingers. Thank goodness you two are still in the hospital - he might actually faint over holding your goddamn hand. As you two approach the lobby, Midoriya waves at you from the checkout area, signaling for you to come over to the desk.

"I ran copies of your paperwork over to the agency earlier, so you are free to head home. They told me they'd call you later to review everything and want you to get some rest," Midoriya informs. "I called your mom as well to let her know you're heading home. The agency did recommend that you shouldn't stay at home since the kidnappers have your address. They're in custody, but better safe than sorry."

"Then she's stayin' with me," Bakugo declares, tapping his fingers along the back of your hand for assurance. "I'll look after her."

"That's for the best. Oh, right!" Midoriya exclaims as he reaches into his bag and hands you...a new phone?! "Here. We were able to take all of the stuff from your old one and transfer it, too."

You're staring at it in disbelief as the lock screen flashes a picture of the three of you.

"I'll pay you back," you say with a bittersweet smile. "Thank you, Izuku. You didn't have to do that."

"Don't worry about it! Kacchan and I split the cost."

Bakugo rolls his eyes and turns his head away from you. "S'no biggie, y'dont owe us shit. C'mon, let's go home." ~ Bakugo's Apartment: 6:45PM

Walking into Bakugo's apartment for the first time in over a month fills you with tranquility, the aura of his home welcoming you with open arms. Would you have loved to go back to your own place? Of course, but you have no idea if anyone from the drug ring knows where you live, like Midoriya said. It's one more stressor you don't want to think about until you need to.

"Are ya hungry?" Bakugo questions with a hand on your upper back. "I can make you somethin'."

You flash him a smile, but it fades away as fast as it appears. "Not right now, I desperately want a hot shower."

"Knock yourself out, y'know where everythin' is. Grab whatever clothes you need from my room. Leave yours in the bathroom and I'll wash'em."

Oh...right. You didn't bring anything with you except the clothes on your back.

It's not like you haven't worn Bakugo's clothes in the past, but it feels way more intimate than ever. Imagining him doing your laundry makes you blush something fierce, suddenly self-conscious about it. You have to force yourself to shake the thought away. He's folded your underwear for years and vice versa. You’ve showered here plenty of times. Hell, you’ve slept in his bed numerous times.

What's the big deal?

"I know that face." Bakugo comments. He caught on to the anxiety emanating from you the second you walked through the door. Being apart for a month didn't seem to weaken his ability to perceive your true emotions. "Quit your worryin', wouldn't offer if I didn't wanna do it."

"Alright," you mutter lowly. "Sorry, still feeling a little out of it."

Bakugo pats you on the head. "Don't be sorry. Go shower, I'll make some dinner for us. You're gonna be starvin' afterward, and y'should eat before takin' any more meds."

You might not be hungry, but can't deny he's right.

“Alright. Thanks, Kat. Mind if I leave the bathroom door cracked?”

A brief wave of sadness crashes through him at your tone. What did they do to you to make you so paranoid? He knows it’s gonna take time for you to acclimate back to a daily routine, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch you walk around with a cloud over your head.

“‘Course not. Yell if ya need me.”

You slink back into Bakugo’s bedroom, waltzing over to his dresser to pick out a set of clothes to wear. It takes an embarrassing amount of convincing to open his underwear drawer, barely looking and blindly grabbing a pair for yourself to change into. You pick out an old All Might t-shirt as well and head off to the bathroom before you change your mind and make things even weirder than they needed to be. You pause at the sink to stare into the mirror, unable to stop yourself from making a mental checklist at every little detail that’s changed in your appearance. The lifelessness in your stare makes your stomach sour, unable to keep eye contact with yourself longer than a few seconds. It reminds you of the last time you looked in a mirror for too long, that shadow-self taunting you to set her free. You can't risk encountering her again - not today.

Bakugo waits for the shower to turn on, only continuing to shuffle around the kitchen in search of ingredients when he hears the water running. He hasn’t gone shopping in a few weeks, living off of protein bars and shakes instead of his usual prepared meals. His appetite waned while you were gone, unable to bring himself to eat consistently like he used to. He’s about to turn the stove on when he hears your voice echo faintly down the hallway, dropping what he’s doing and hurrying to the bathroom door.

“Need somethin’?” Bakugo calls out, loud enough to be sure you hear him over the sounds of the water and ventilation fan.

“This is gonna sound so needy,” you whine, feeling ashamed to keep asking him for help after all the trouble him and Midoriya have gone through. “Can you…stay in here and talk to me? Being alone is giving me stupid anxiety.”

He sighs, slipping through the door and perching himself on the vanity. "You're not needy, don't say shit like that. What do y'wanna talk about?"

What the hell do you talk about? What he did while you were gone? The weather or the news?

"Uhh...what's for dinner?"

Good enough.

"Was thinkin' something basic like chicken and rice. Don't wanna make you sick by eating somethin' too rich off the bat."

The pause in conversation is gnawing on your nerves. Bakugo clears his throat. "That sound okay to you?"

"Mhm."

Popping open the bottle of shampoo, the familiar scent invades your senses and forces nostalgia upon you that you didn't even know you had tucked away. A handful of memories come back in flashes - movie nights, late night dinners, 3AM phone calls, early morning workouts, afternoon coffee runs during patrol breaks...it hits you like a train, crushing you mentally to know you're using everything that's his, consuming pieces of him that you've craved after being apart for so long. Something as simple as goddamn 'Pine Trees & Campfire' shampoo is destroying you all over again. You try to stop the hiccup in your throat from being heard, but it's too late.

"You alright in there?" Bakugo asks when he hears it, worried he upset you. "I can make whatever y'want, I'll run to-"

"That's not it," you interject awkwardly. You can't tell him that you're distraught over a stupid fragrance, no way in hell.

"Do you...want me to help you?" He stumbles through the words, embarrassed to be thinking about your bare skin and the potential of seeing you in such a vulnerable light, the only thing keeping you hidden from his sight being a thin layer of steam and suds.

"I..." you start while continuing to rush through the rest of the shower routine as a distraction, but it doesn't work. Of course it doesn't - there's no shoving this down anymore. What good would it do now to lie to him about how you feel? You might as well tell him the truth.

"I realized how much I missed you."

Bakugo's head falls into his hands, heat radiating from his face and warming his palms. There's so much you two need to talk about. You've both gotten through the confession portion, but the weight of it all is becoming too much to bear. He's, for lack of a better word, dying to hold you, kiss you, to bask in your presence like old times.

"Yeah, missed bein' able to call you to talk about stupid shit and hear your voice. Did a few times the first week. Old habits die hard."

The bathroom falls quiet when you turn off the shower, the subtle squeak of the metal rack as you pull the fresh towel behind the curtain being the only sound filling the room. It sends Bakugo into an unexpected cold sweat. You're about to walk out in nothing but...that.

Should he leave? Do you want him to leave? Is he...allowed to see you in only a towel?

His eyes shoot to the floor the second he hears the curtain rings clink together, white-knuckling the edge of the vanity like his life depended on it.

"Katsuki," you laugh, gripping the top of the towel draped over your body. "Don't be such a nerd about this."

Bakugo's eyes whip back to you, eyebrows scrunched together with his cheeks slightly puffed. He's adorable like this, a strawberry hue spreading like wildfire across his features.

"I-I'm not!" he argues. "You wanna walk around in nothin'? Be my damn guest."

Shit, that's not what he meant to say.

You start to snicker, devolving into a cackle that has you in tears, holding your side and wiping at your eyes.

"Stop laughin' ya brat!" he shouts, not able to keep a straight face himself once he sees the real you come to light, the radiant girl he loves. It brings him comfort knowing he can still make you laugh until you cry happy tears after the hell you've been through. Your giggles are music to his ears - an angelic choir. He launches himself off the vanity and heads for the door, mumuring "Get your ass dressed already" as he's shutting it behind him.

After staring at the pile of clothes for too long, you throw on the chosen shirt and pair of boxers, savoring the warmth it fills you with as the fabric lays atop your damp skin. Maybe things will be easier than you think and you won't turn into a phantom that listlessly wanders through life. Maybe, just maybe, Bakugo's the key to finding your old self and stepping back into her shoes. Exiting the bathroom, you're about to head into the kitchen when you overhear Bakugo fidgeting with something in his bedroom. You patter down the hall and peer into the room, curious with whatever he's messing with. He catches your silhouette out of the corner of his eye and nearly jumps out of his skin.

"God, you're like a fuckin' mouse!" Bakugo yells, dropping the box in his hands. "Thought y'were still in the bathroom, scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry," you apologize with your hand over your mouth, holding in a laugh and covering up the sneer tugging at your lips. There's a small box on his dresser, a coral colored jewelry case of some kind. "What's that?"

Bakugo groans dramatically and slumps his shoulders. You've caught him red handed.

"Dammit. It's somethin' I bought a long ass time ago."

His fingers graze over the cotton material delicately, reminiscing about that day from years prior. The two of you had gotten the approvals for your apartments in Tokyo, ecstatic that you were able to find places within a mile walking distance of one another - Midoriya, too. After meeting with the realtor in the city, you two were free to wander around for the day. Bakugo remembers how adorably ecstatic you were, tugging him toward the train station to go to Shibuya and celebrate, a.k.a window shop through the square, play arcade games until he berated you for wasting money, and bar hop to indulge in the best food and drinks for hours.

Who was he to say no to you?

While roaming through the shopping district, you'd stopped to fawn over a piece of jewelry in a window display, your wonderstruck stare that had him melting as you squealed with delight. "Wow, look how pretty that is!"

Bakugo's too spellbound on how gorgeous you appear in the golden hour sunlight to focus on the words you're saying. He's transfixed by the luminous glow reflecting on your skin, convinced this sunset was handcrafted to your intensify beauty. He finally tears his gaze away from you to see the necklace shining back at him in the window.

"Lockets are so sweet, I love their sentiment," you swoon mindlessly. "And this one has a teeny carnelian in the middle. They're meant to keep you driven and motivated."

He couldn't deny it looked nice, a small rose gold heart locket with the stone nestled in the middle. Bakugo looks at the price tag and winces - $300 for something so...dainty.

"Damn, did they dig this outta the dirt themselves for that price?"

"It's how you know it's real and won't leave a green ring around your neck. Carnelian actually reminds me of you, Kat. Nothing gets in the your way of your dreams, your ambition is truly unmatched."

Bakugo's body heats up, such a casual compliment enough to have him bursting into invisible flames.

"S'there a rock for nerds like you, too?" he grins, playfully poking at your side.

"Ha-ha," you huff sarcastically. "C'mon, I'm starving. Let's go to that bar around the corner."

He takes a mental note of the store name, the street you're on, and the name of the locket on display. He'll come back for it in a few days, hiding it away for the right time to give to you. Maybe at your birthday, or whenever your hero ranking jumps into the top 40. Or he'll keep his feelings locked away with it, letting it waste away in the back of a drawer somewhere with no intention of it ever seeing the light of day.

"Are you gonna tell me, or should I act like I didn't see it?"

Your voice shakes Bakugo out of his daydream, realizing he's been standing there staring at the box for god knows how long. You two have somewhat confessed to one another, what's he got to lose?

"C'mere," he instructs, motioning for you to sit with him on the bed. You blink at him curiously as you follow his lead, plopping down on the mattress next to him. His mouth forms a tense line before exhaling heavily. "Turn around."

And you do, albeit puzzled, but compliant. Bakugo opens the box and fumbles with the necklace, untangling the chain from where it laid on the satin pillow inside. He leans into your back, hands coming into view from behind and the weight of something resting on your chest. After a few tries with shaky fingers and mumbled 'fuck's, he gets the clasp to successfully close, pulling your dampened hair out of the way and letting the chain lay across your nape.

"Bought this after that trip to Shibuya with my first check. I went back'ta get it after you wouldn't stop lookin' at it. And..." he pauses. "Ya said it reminded you of me, so it felt special."

He's had this locket hidden away for years?!

"I didn't put anythin' in it, figured we could find somethin' together."

No one's ever loved you this deeply, so blisteringly profound as Bakugo. How could you be so blind to it all this time? His pining for you is clear as day. All those times you questioned it and how you could've been together this whole time.

You swing around and collide with Bakugo, sore arms wrapping securely around his shoulders. His arms instantly encircle your frame as the two of you topple sideways onto the bed, entangled in one another. You stare up at him through your lashes with a soft pout stretched over your lips.

"You really are force to be reckoned with, huh?" you tease. "Thank you, Katsuki. I love it."

You move up to comfortably lay your head next to his on the pillow, noses practically touching as you navigate the stars in each other's eyes. You can hear Bakugo swallow roughly - he’s nervous. He goes to say something, but you place a finger to his lips, shaking your head nimbly to cut him off.

"And you."

Your hand moves to caress his cheek as you inhale a trembling breath, taking in all of his gorgeous features. He melts into your touch. The usual flames in his eyes have dimmed into embers, ruby irises flickering under the bedroom lighting. Every ounce of your body feels like an inferno, the equivalent of Icarus flying too close to the sun. The only difference? You don’t mind the burn - you welcome it this time.

The final piece of the puzzle clicks into place as your lips connect with Bakugo's, the world fading away around you two and transporting you into a luscious dreamscape full of stars. Everything from the last month begins to dissipate into nothingness, his kiss draining the negativity from your soul and replacing it with sickly sweet love. The two of you have waited for what feels like an eternity for a chance like this, and despite the circumstances, it has brought you two together in a way that you've only fantasized about. The fact that it's actually happening? You may explode, overwhelmed by the emotions traversing the avenues of your heart.

Bakugo pulls away to catch his breath, unable to fathom the reality unfolding in front of him. You're here, in his bed, wearing his clothes and the locket he thought would never see hanging from your neck, snuggled up and kissing him like he's the last person on earth. His head is in the clouds, way beyond the stratosphere and floating through deep space. He's convinced this is nirvana, the perfect slice of heaven. But one thing is missing - three little words he's dying for you to hear, straight from his heart.

He snakes an arm around your waist and tugs your body to be impossibly close to his. Bakugo pecks your forehead, nose and cheek and hovers over your lips. You can feel the infatuation exuding from him, comforted by the way his chest rises and falls with yours in quick successions.

He feels like home.

"I love you," he finally confesses, his throat tightening as the phrase spills out of him. It's no longer out of fear, it's the enthusiasm of finally being able to say it with confidence.

You can't help but chuckle while remembering his text, leaning forward to kiss him before answering. "Why don't you remind me how much?"

The way Bakugo's cheeks glow scarlet at your question makes your heart swell - his sudden bashfulness is exhilarating. He takes a deep breath as his fingers rub circles on your lower back absentmindedly, staring at your lips until he has the strength to make eye contact again.

"I should'a told ya ages ago how I felt. And from now on, I won't let a day go by without tellin' you."

Even though you knew how he felt about you, hearing Bakugo say it aloud makes the swarm of butterflies in your stomach flutter violently. The feeling is almost uncontainable, overflowing in ways you didn't think was possible.

"I love you too, Katsuki. Like a stupid fucking amount," you smirk, relishing in the way his irises gleam when you quote his original confession. He tilts your chin upward to slot his lips onto yours once more, eager to consume every drop of adoration pouring out of you. It's innocent, tender, the spell he's been dying to put you under for years. The mood shifts into something more sensual when your hand roams to the hem of Bakugo's shirt, slipping underneath to run your hand up his back, desperate for skin contact and sinking into a deeper kiss. You're tingling, a new sensation beginning to build in your belly when he experimentally sucks on your bottom lip, opening your mouth for him to swipe his tongue along yours. You squeak in surprise at his advance, but melt into him all the same, a groan rumbling in his chest at your pliancy. His hand starts to wander down your figure and sneaks under the oversized t-shirt, mimicking your touch and tracing your spine with his finger tips.

Oh my god.

This is real.

This isn't a dream.

He feels so fucking good pressed up against you, intoxicated by the way his fingers ghost over your skin, sending sparks of electricity rushing through your veins. You want him viscerally, no - need him. Maybe it's the touch starvation talking, but you could consume him whole and it wouldn't be enough right now. He's everything you've ever wanted, and even thought you literally have him in the palm of your hand, something about this continues to feel illusive.

You're lost in him. Everything fiber of your being is screaming Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki.

In the heat of the moment, you pull away from the kiss and press your lips to the underside of his jaw, slowly leaving a trail of featherlight pecks down to his collarbone. You can feel Bakugo shiver under your touch, his fingers applying firmer pressure on your back. His reaction gives you the courage to push further, delicately sucking on the pulse point in his neck. The noise that floods out of him makes your thighs clench, one that you've never heard him make. His whole body twitches, fingers moving to squeeze your side in an attempt to keep himself together.

"Fuck," he sighs harshly above you, breathing heavily and immediately biting his lip to prevent any other flustered sounds from spilling out as your lips continue their plush assault. When your hand inches slowly down his back and to his hip to graze the waistband of his sweats, Bakugo freezes. His hand rockets to your wrist to stop you. He breaks away from your embrace and the sight of him is enough to knock you out; eyes half-lidded, out of breath, lips swollen and face flushed cherry red.

God, he's so beautiful.

"W-wait," he stutters, removing his grip from your wrist and sliding his fingers to tangle with yours. "I...I don't wanna rush this."

Oh.

"N-not...shit. Not that I don't want to," Bakugo continues while biting the inside of his cheek to calm himself down. "I wanna earn you, every part of you."

Oh.

That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.

He notices your eyes beginning to well up with tears and panics, thinking that you're taking this as a rejection rather than his true intentions. "Hey, I didn't mean-"

You interrupt him with another sweet peck to his lips. "I know. You're right, and I'm sorry for smothering you."

Bakugo didn't mind that one fucking bit, he's waited years for the chance to kiss you. Shit, he wants you to touch him, to explore every scar and muscle that adorn his figure. He wants to memorize the way your delicate fingers set him ablaze as you roam his body with your touch. And he can't dare to think about the seductive journey of mapping out every inch of your skin, worshiping you from head to toe for hours. He screws his eyes shut momentarily to collect himself for a third time, shoving that thought into the back of his mind to save for a rainy day.

"Nothin' to be sorry about, sweetheart." Bakugo pulls you into him, cushioning your cheek with his chest. "M'happy like this for now. Don't wanna spoil all the surprises right away."

Sweetheart.

Your heart pitter-patters in your chest at the new pet name, loving how it sounds falling from his lips.

"But if ya ask me with those puppy dog eyes'a yours, I might turn into a kid on Christmas morning and unwrap everything in one night." He snickers, the vibrations mixing into the strong bass of his heartbeat in your ear. The pulse becomes a comforting lullaby of sorts, blanketing a sense of calm over you and letting you drift into a blissful daze.

The trance is broken by the rumble of your phone incessantly buzzing against Bakugo's dresser. Reluctantly, you push yourself out of his grasp and lurch to grab it from across the room, the caller ID making your stomach plummet.

~ INCOMING CALL: AGENCY

The time has come. It's now or never to hear what they have to say. You click the "Accept" button and raise the phone to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this message is for Y/H/N. If this is correct, please press 1."

They couldn't even bother to call you themselves, but sent a recording instead?

"What is it?" Bakugo asks as he sits up in the bed.

"Bastards at the agency sent a recording, it's not even the board members themselves."

He gives you a look of disgust, appalled they'd treat one of their fellow heroes like a number in their system. Well, maybe he shouldn't be surprised, all things considered. Those suits only care about appearances at the end of the day.

"Throw it on speaker," he insists, patting the bed for you to sit next to him. You plop down on the mattress, press 1 on the screen and click the speaker icon.

"Y/H/N, we are pleased to know you've returned safe and sound. Deku and the others went a bit rogue to rescue you, but we are willing to excuse it this one time due to the success of their tribulations. Thank you for sending over your paperwork from the hospital. We've contacted Deku, as he's one of your emergency contacts, for further information to allow you to properly rest. He informed us you'll be under Dynamight's care until we can confirm your home is safe to stay return to. We will be reaching out to him momentarily in regards of this matter and how to proceed in the coming weeks. As of now, your status in the hero database has been changed from "Missing in Action" to "Leave of Absence." You will be paid 75% of your normal salary during this time and your ranking will be reset. In order to return to physical hero work, we require a written recommendation letter from your doctor and therapists, including progress reports and evaluations regarding your quirk's strength. You will, unfortunately, need to re-apply for a position and re-take the agency's entrance exam. In the interim, you may complete office work at your leisure after three months of leave. We will be following up in a week for updates on your health and then monthly going forward. If you have any questions, please reach out to the agency's HR department. Thank you, and we wish you luck in your recovery."

A few seconds of static linger in the air before the line ends. The phone feels heavy in your hands, a weight you can't hold on to for much longer.

Shh...stop thinking. Push it down. Lock it up. Keep that dread buried six feet under.

As much as you don't want to listen to your inner critic, she's right. For now, you've gotta suffocate that existentialism and shelve it for another day - preferably one when Bakugo's not around to witness another breakdown. You notice him staring at you with the similar face he made in the compound, one filled with worry about the impending doom and gloom. It's obvious he searching for something to say, anything to get your mind away from being told you're potentially losing your job.

"It's okay, Katsuki. You don't need to say anything," you assure as you take a deep breath. "Are you still offering to make dinner, or should we order something?"

Is that a good sign? He can't determine whether or not you're upset or accepting the inevitable. Bad news be damned, Bakugo's confident he can take your mind off of things, even if it's for a few hours at a time.

"Whatever you want, I'll let you pick."

As much as you'd kill for some fast food to mask the panic building in your chest, a home cooked meal - specifically a Katsuki Bakugo home cooked meal - sounds incredible right about now.

"Cook me the best dish you've got in your arsenal, that's what I want."

Bakugo's lips upturn into a grin, fired up for the challenge to impress his best...no, girlfriend.

"Lemme go to the store on the corner an' pick up a few things. Go get comfy on the couch in the meantime." He takes your cheeks in his hands, squishing them together playfully to leave another kiss on your lips. "Dinner and a movie, right where we left off."

"Where we left off and then some," you joke, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Kat. For everything."

"Don't mention it," he waves you off, a dusting of pink crossing the bridge of his nose and coloring the tips of his ears. "Be back in twenty. Try not to miss me too much.”

With a nod, you let him go. He stops at the door of his bedroom, turning to face you.

“I love you,” Bakugo repeats. "Wanted to remind ya, in case you forgot."

“You’re so cute, I love you too. Don’t trip and fall off the face of the earth on your way there.”

“I'm not cute!” reverbs through Bakugo’s apartment as he shuts the front door. You lay back in his bed, twirling the sheets in your fingers as his scent lingers in your space. You could get used to this, a life full of sweet nothings with him by your side. Dreams can begin to replace your nightmares, and hope seems fathomable once more. It won’t be an easy journey, you’ve got multiple glass ceilings to break through before returning to normalcy. And she’s here to remind you of every hurdle along the way. It’s only been a few hours since your release from the hospital, but this is the best you’ve felt in a long ass time.

Until your reality comes crashing down around you. You've really gotta stop asking for trouble.

Everything contrasts, your throat constricting and limiting the breath reaching your lungs. The doctor warned you about the potential side effects of drug withdraw, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly how these symptoms would appear. How could they know if they couldn’t identify the drug itself? You try to grab your phone, but you can’t find the damn thing in your hazy vision, frantically patting around on the bed in search of it to call Bakugo for help.

Don’t panic, breathe.

"I can't!" you pant between shallow breaths.

Yes, you can. Don't let it take you back into that cell.

Is this the psychosis they warned you about? It's terrifying, but therapeutic in the same breath. You’ve gotta trust that intuition - it may not be malicious in nature anymore.

Lay on your back, hands and feet against the bed. Let me pass through and you’ll be safe, don't be afraid of me.

You ground yourself to the bed and breathe deeply. In and out. In...out. In. Out. After a minute, your breathing stabilizes, eyes opening cautiously to surprisingly clear vision.

See? We don't need to be enemies.

What the fuck was that, a panic attack? It felt too quick to be one. The creak of the front door opening and rustling of bags distracts you from spiraling further about it, Bakugo's voice carrying down the hall. "Lite-brite, I'm back. Grabbed ya a few treats, too."

Are you able to move? You flex your fingers, your toes, and then roll your shoulders back as a test. Everything seems to be back to normal. No use in worrying him further, the episode's passed and you're okay - that's what matters. You'll tell him after dinner when the night winds down. You can't ruin the mood he's crafting for you two after everything he's done. You can unload that another time, and pray it doesn't happen again anytime soon.

"Everythin' okay while I was gone?" Bakugo presses while tossing the bags on the counter.

One more white lie won't hurt.

"Yeah, all good. Can I help with anything?"

⇢ HH tags; @bakugouswaif @k1tk4tkatsuki @bells2319

@st0nedbitch @deftonianfr @musicbecky

@bakubae-by @berryvioo @tragedyofabrokensoul

@queenpiranhadon @simp-plague @jenn-majima

@dienamights @curiositykilledthecatx3

⇢ bkg tags; @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @napbatata

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⇢ all tags; @kirishimaeijiromyman @strwbrrykthv

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugo angst #bakugo fluff #mha bakugo #my hero academia x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou angst #bakugou fluff #☆.rei writes #✩.hollowheart

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carlos-in-glasses · 2 months ago

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Rhythms

120k, 17 chapters all written, E, updates on Sundays on Ao3.

TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.

Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.

Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.

Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.

Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.

Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.

Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?

Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?

Chapter 9: Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.

“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”

TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”

“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”

“You called me the Cookie Monster.”

“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”

“Tea came out my nose.”

“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”

TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”

“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”

“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”

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#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #Tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #gay fanfiction #Rhythms #poet fic #cig fic #my fic #Thank you so much for reading! I'm so excited about this fic!

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areyouwell · 2 months ago

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Algophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of pain. Children and adults may have Algophobia if they possess an extreme aversion to feeling pain, typically physical.

Ch.7

Ch.6, Ch.5,5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <-

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: nightmares, vomit, uhhhhhhh nothing intense really, for once... honestly can't remember and i literally JUST reread it :')

Word Count: 14.5K

A/N: told ya i'd keep writing. sorry this one took a little extra time, i'm literally on a train in France having finished editing and proofreading the chapter like, two minutes ago so slay boots. can't believe this fic is almost over like holy shit... congrats to anyone who's ready all of it so far because it's well within the world count of a novel and by the end will probably be over that threshold... so slay of us good job teamsquad also sorry if the layout is janky i hate posting from my phone

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor

Birds. The chittering of swallows, to be exact. Beyond the soft beams of sunlight through the quartered window, the chittering of swallows had caressed him awake, a gentle breeze rustling the orange leaves against the glass, whispering secrets into the light of the morning.

It wasn’t rare Logan woke up before you, in fact, considering how little of a morning person you were, it was rare you woke up before midday full-stop—and this morning seemed no different. Occasional snores bubbled from your chest, you lightly swiped at an invisible irritation around your nose as you turned in his arms, nestling tighter into his chest. Logan hummed a tender smile, smoothing your brow with the pad of his thumb. Your features furrowed as you attempted to escape his touch, unappreciative of the disturbance no matter how gentle.

Huffing a small laugh, he allowed you to burrow further into his embrace, tightening his arms around your body. Six months of this. Six months of the quiet peace of escape. Honestly, he couldn’t be more thankful for the raid on the mansion that day. Here he was, the love of his life tangled in his arms, slowly waking on a sunny, breezy autumnal morning.

His eyes raised to beyond the window, smelling the rain on the air even from inside. Maybe an hour away? An hour and a half at a push. He groaned, realising he’d need to get the bike into the barn before the showers hit. Was leaving the cosy confines of the bed really worth saving and having to scale off some rust later? Absolutely not, but Logan knew you’d be mad at him if he let a splash of rainwater ruin all his hard work.

Pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your brow, your features scrunched in disapproval as she shifted you out of his embrace having to move quickly before you searched for him again and attached yourself to his arm. You whined gravelly protests but settled back down when he pulled the covers back up over your shoulders. He’d make a coffee for you when he came back in. One of those strong ‘morning’ coffees you called them. With at least three heaps of espresso, no sugar, no cream, just caffeine.

Slipping on a fresh pair of jeans and a deep green flannel that you said brought out the colours in his eyes –utter bullshit in his correct opinion– Logan tip-toed down the stairs almost comically slow. He knew you wouldn’t wake. The sun could have exploded and you’d be more irritated if it had woken you up before 1 pm, but he still liked to take care not to disturb you, more out of principle than anything else.

The morning was as crisp as he initially thought, his skin prickly with the cool breeze. He hadn’t bothered with his jacket, since he would only be out for less than thirty seconds. Pulling the tarp from the bike and flicking up the kickstand, he wheeled it back up the small slope and into the barn. If things continued going the way they were going, Logan thought about perhaps clearing out some of the rusted old machinery, maybe making room for a chicken pen, or maybe a stall for a cow or something. You’d be good at raising animals, he thought. And he preferred the idea of getting fresh produce rather than having to head to the store every week or so.

It was an idea that refused to leave his head as he looked around the small space. Just against the far wall, he could imagine a little coop where the old, rusty plough now lay discarded. It would be a ballache to remove it, and Logan didn’t doubt the sharp edges where the metal had rusted away would get a good few swipes in, but it seemed worth it in his mind’s eye to see you crouched next to the nest, holding up a single egg proudly as if you’d laid it yourself.

But if he was to get started, he’d need his jacket. And maybe a thick pair of gloves. Sure, he could heal, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get pissed at him when he wouldn’t take these kinds of precautions, bringing up that one time he said he wanted to do things like a normal couple, to which you’d use to your advantage. “Normal people don’t simply heal their wounds three seconds later, Lo’.”

It was endearing, how much you cared. How hard you tried to keep him safe despite the fact he literally couldn’t be hurt. With a fond smile tugging his lips up at the thought of you, Logan draped the tarp back over the bike, securing the tags around the frame before patting the motorcycle, much like Todd did.

Todd.

Logan blinked. Why did he suddenly have the urge to tear into the man’s chest and rip out his fucking heart? Was his anger returning? But Todd hadn’t done anything, at least not that he could remember. Sure, he was flirtatious with you, but you never let it go too far and it made you laugh, so there wasn’t much harm there. So where the fuck did this sudden urge to split his skull come from?

Taking a deep, calming breath, he attempted to release his anger with his exhale, feeling the rage simmer down slightly, though still extremely accessible beneath the surface. Maybe he was too far away from you. Oh, he was down so bad if that was the reason. He refused to believe it until he left the barn, pulling the bolt shut, and turning to see you in the doorway, two mugs of steaming coffee grasped in your hands.

Was there a better view? He couldn’t think of anything sweeter than what he was seeing, the woman he loved, leaning against the doorframe to the cabin he shared with her away from the rest of the world, safe and free and at peace. Your soft smile could start a war, and your laugh could end it. There was no clean line to where you started and he ended, your very souls totally and completely intertwined.

And you lost her.

Logan whirled at the trees above, searching for where he swore he’d just heard a voice hiss. But he saw nothing other than clouded blue skies and fluttering leaves like an artist’s palette of a sunset. You called his name and he slowly turned his head back to you.

And froze completely.

A small crimson stain started to spread from the centre of your chest, sanguine blood flowing from a fresh wound down your front. Panic leached the colour from his face as he lurched forward, only for his feet to be stuck to the ground. He looked down frantically, tugging at his thighs in an attempt to pull himself free. You were supposed to be safe. He was supposed to keep you safe.

A strangled gurgle was ripped from your throat and he looked back to you just as you opened your mouth, a fountain of blood bubbling from your scarlet-stained lips. Trying to scream resulted in nothing but a rippling stream of sanguine with a guttural yelp. A hand gripped your shoulder from the dark beyond the doorway, a serrated knife dragging a thin line across the hollow of your neck as your palms flew to the arm holding you still in a weak attempt to stop him.

Logan desperately clawed at his legs, eyes unable to look away as Dr.Kreva stepped out from behind your bleeding body, the knife held in his closed grip. A roar tore up his voice, scraping up along his throat as the serrated edge of the blade inched further into the tendons of your neck, snapping through the muscles with a sickening squelch. Your eyes widened as your voice cut off, hands gripping Kreva’s arm falling limp by your sides, light fading from your irises.

Smoke rose from somewhere behind the cabin, and Logan could only blink before the wood erupted into flame, licks and tendrils of scorching reds devouring the exterior. He could do nothing, stuck in a quagmire of his guilt, hands of fire clawing up your legs, igniting your clothes, melting the flesh from your bones. Kreva’s glasses shone in the golden glow, stepping back into the inferno and disappearing as the support beam collapsed.

Staring in abject horror, Logan fell forward, finally released by whatever held his fast. His knees bit as he struck the earth, facing your skeleton lying face down, blackened bones of your hand outstretched towards him in a final, desperate plea for help.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He whispered to your vacant corpse. He’d failed you. Keeping you safe was his only fucking job and he’d failed. He promised you he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t abandon you, and he’d fucking failed.

The shadows rippled and contorted around your skeleton, rising from the ground to conjure seven figures. The same silhouettes he’d woken up to stare him down six months ago. Simultaneously, their hands stretched out over you, void-like fingers splayed, and your bones began to sink into the earth.

The ghost of your body rippled beneath the surface of the darkness before the black smoke curled up from the soil, an eighth shadow figure reforming from the void to complete what he had suspected ever since he’d read the file. There were eight of you. Eight Subjects.

Nine Lives Minus One.

They were the literal shadows of your past. And it terrified him that you had now become one. Logan’s heart thundered in his chest as he looked between the eight figures, shadowing faces simultaneously snapping to look at him, head cocking at unnatural angles.

The one he knew to be yours reached up to its neck, wrapping its long thin fingers around its own throat, before squeezing. A scream echoed in his ears, tearing at the walls of his mind before he was thrust forward, falling through to reality.

Nausea roiled in his gut as Logan jolted awake, bolt upright. The image of your charring body, flesh dripping from your bones burned in his mind’s eye, and that slight nausea shifted to the undeniable urge to vomit.

Staggering from his bed to the bathroom, bile burned his throat as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet, the sounds of his own gagging echoing about the empty stall.

Two months. It had been two months since he’d lost you. And every day felt like thirty. Rage and grief accompanied him like a constant companion. The memories of your laughter, your smile, your teasing comments haunted the halls of the school, corridors once alight with comfort and giggles now felt cold damp. Absent.

They were making progress. They reassured him every long, long day, they were making progress with locating you. Charles had almost locked himself away with Cerebro to locate you, but it was difficult to get a read on anything when any signatures he felt from the once-destroyed facility kept slipping from his mental grasp. Subject One, or Obscurity, was somehow hiding all and any neurotransmitters from the old environment centre. Either that or what whole place was coated entirely with steel, which was also a possibility.

But none of them knew because nobody could get close enough to fucking find out. It was damn near impossible without alerting upwards of sixty armed guards to their approaching location. And whilst Logan would tank the bullets and take them all on alone, Scott wouldn’t let him, and neither would he let him endanger any other member of the team by storming a full frontal assault.

So Logan was forced to wait. And wait. And wait. Every day, you slipped further from him. That first night without you, he’d borderline commandeered the Blackbird to get to Todd. He needed to know what happened. Why he did do it? And it wasn’t a polite conversation.

Rage coursed through his veins as he sliced open the lock to Todd’s garage, throwing up the doors with enough force to break the mechanism completely. Pausing only to sniff the air, Logan growled as he scented Todd’s presence, a frantic Ororo trailing behind after him, placing a weak attempt at a placating hand on his bicep. But he didn’t want to be calmed down. Logan wanted blood. Fuck that, he craved blood. Wanted to taste it as he ripped Todd’s throat out with his damn teeth.

Though the office light was off, Todd’s scent was stronger in that direction, and Logan was fairly certain he was hiding. Good. Smartest decision he’d made in the last six months. Although he would have been smarter to start running the second he betrayed Logan’s trust and had you ripped away from him.

With a balled fist, Logan thrust his hand through the glass on the door, barely wincing as shards of glass embedded themselves in his knuckles. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that kind of sensation. And true to his senses, Todd swore from behind the desk, his voice shaky. Good.

“It better have been fuckin’ worth it for ya.” Logan snarled, ripping the desk from its roots and tossing it aside as if it weighed nothing. Various effects scattered about the floor, a lamp shattering upon impact, files and paperwork strewn like flyers in the wind.

“Jus’ w-wait a minute. I didn’t ‘ave a choice. Bastard threatened my family, what would you ‘ave done?” Todd held his hands up in defence, bowing his head as Logan’s adamantium claws slid from his freshly healed knuckles. The man’s eyes widened in horror. “Yer a fuckin’ mutant?”

Ororo’s eyes blanched, lightning crashing through a telephone pole beyond the doors outside. The blood drained from Todd’s face, as the realisation dawned on him that, they were all mutants.

Logan hated how he understood the man’s fear. And he was right. If the roles had been reversed, if it had been you who was being threatened, he would have cracked in an instant. If your safety was compromised, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure right whatever had happened.

“Fuck. You’re a fuckin’ weasel, Todd. I fuckin’ trusted you!” It was taking every fibre of his self-control not to plunge his claws through his throat and rip through his tendons, but he took a deep, steadying breath.

“What happened, Todd?” Ororo asked, her eyes fading back to their natural colour.

Todd sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Round three months after y’all moved in, this glasses-wearing sleezebag waltzed into this shop like ‘e owned the fuckin’ place, askin’ after the pair of yous. I told ‘im to get lost, I weren’t in the business of information. Till ‘e asked about me wife. And me daughter, Lisa. Put the fear of God in me I tell ya.

“I didn’t ‘ave a choice, Logan, I swear it. I’d never ‘ave told ‘im anythin’ if I knew this were gonna ‘appen.” He pleaded, and Logan had to step away to stop himself from at least punching the shit out of him.

“That’s why you called me, isn’t it? Not cuz of the money, but cuz you knew what was gonna happen.” The question was rhetorical. Of course that was the reason. And if he could turn back time, he would have picked up the phone in an instant, no questions asked. Maybe he could have avoided this altogether and you’d be safe and sound, curled up by his side, back at the mansion.

But as it stood, Logan’s mutation wasn’t time travel.

“I didn’t know exactly, but yeah, I knew somethin’ was gonna ‘appen tonight…” Todd admitted, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “I liked ‘er Logan. I did. She was–”

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, running a stressed hand through his hair. It was only 4:36 am. You had roughly two hours on him, but if he left now and took the bike, maybe he could catch you. Or better yet, if he took the Blackbird…”

“Logan…?”

No. He’d have to land the Blackbird, which would take far too long and he also wasn’t used to piloting something like that.

“Logan?”

He’d take the bike then. Head back to the cabin with the truck and exchange vehicles. But that would take too long, even if he floored it. Fuck! The truck was nowhere near fast enough either. He had to make a choice here, sacrifice time with the small possibility of catching up to you, or possibly sacrifice you and tail Kreva so he leads him straight back to the facility.

“Logan!”

He blinked, turning back to Ororo, who had her arms folded across her chest, her brows pinched in sympathy. “You can’t go after her. It’s too late. We need to strategise this because clearly, they’re expecting you to follow her immediately,” she explained, and he grit his teeth. She was right, and he fucking hated it. Because every second wasted here was yet another second you were in their capture, and fuck knows what they would do to you this time. The thought terrified him. “Come on… we’ll head back to the school, figure something out.” Logan didn’t move, his eyes hard as he glared at Ororo, the thought of leaving your behind had his gut writhing like a ball of vicious, furious snakes. Storm sighed, realising he wasn’t going to be convinced so easily. “She was a member of our team, Logan. She was our friend. We’re not abandoning her…” There was a determination in her eye that genuinely gave Logan a kernel of hope. She was right. You were their friend. You’d made such an impact in their lives, and they weren’t about to give you up so easily.

With an extended sigh, he nodded. Fine. He’d play by their rules. But the moment things stagnated, he’d fucking find you himself.

“I’ll look after yer truck. She’s–”

“I don’t fucking care.” he snapped, not bothering to spare so much as a glance over his shoulder before returning out to the jet.

That was two fucking months ago. And he was certain things had stagnated and he just wasn’t being told. Scott had banned him from surveillance missions, claiming his fuse was too short for missions such as those, and that if he saw where you were being held, he’d snap and tear through anything and everything in his path to get to you.

Not something Logan could disagree with, but he only acquiesced because Jean convinced him it was their best bet at finding you. It physically fucking hurt not to be involved in your rescue missions, but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t particularly want anybody else hurt or captured or killed or whatever the fuck they’d do to them.

Making sure his stomach wasn’t about to surprise him with another surge of bile, Logan stood to the basin, running the cold water from the tap and cupping his hands, splashing his face vigorously in a lame attempt to wash away the nightmare. Because that’s all it was. Just a nightmare. And despite him having intimate knowledge of your mutation, the fact that the last he saw of you, you were bleeding out on a floor of tarmac, scared the shit out of him. He knew you could heal. There was documented proof of you healing from several bullet wounds, however he couldn’t shake the image from his brain.

You barely knew what had happened before you dropped to the floor, your delicately concerned smile for him morphing and shifting to an expression of complete and utter shock. The crack of your skull on the pavement, the harsh gurgle of your coagulated blood as you spat at Kreva….

You didn’t have a choice. He knew that. He knew your body would have given into the shadow in a desperate attempt to heal yourself of the bullet in your chest, but that didn’t make the memories hurt any less.

That was the last he saw of you, and it fucking haunted him. Exhaling a shaky breath, Logan stared into the droplets in the sink, before raising his head, limp strands of dark brown hair hanging damp around his eyes. His gaze shifted to the reflection of the shower. It had taken him almost a week after being back to garner the courage to use it. Not only because every time he closed his eyes he saw your bleeding chest and blanching face, but also because it was identical to the shower in your ensuite, and it fucking hurt to be near it, let alone in it.

The porcelain cracked beneath his grip, pulling him from his memories back into the present. There were times he wished he could simply let himself be lost to the past. At least he was with you there. But he promised he’d find you. He promised he’d never leave you. And he didn’t intend to break it.

Shrugging on the same flannel he’d been wearing for days and a pair of extremely worn jeans, Logan checked his watch. Two minutes past nine. His lips tugged in a bittersweet smile. You’d be furious. Running a hand down the side of his face, Logan opened the door.

Only to find Scott standing on the other side, balled fist held up as if to knock a few times on Logan’s face. If he had the energy, Logan would ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, but it seemed the team was taking it in turns to make sure he was alright now and then. Poor Scott. It seemed he’d drawn the short straw on a particularly shit morning.

“What?” He asked blankly, fighting the urge to silently barge past the man. Sure, they may have shared a sweet moment of understanding after he’d lost you, but that was two fucking months ago. And moments of sweet understanding weren’t enough to make up for the fact you were still missing.

Scott blew out a sigh of relief, clearly expecting Logan to simply walk past him. “Uh, Marie’s looking for you. Says it’s urgent? She wouldn’t talk to any of us…” Scott sounded almost suspicious, but the moment he mentioned it was urgent, Logan was gone, shouldering past him and down the hallway. “She’s out the back!” Cyclops called after him as if he needed any kind of help with directions. He could smell a plan brewing from a mile away.

True to his nose, and annoyingly, Scott’s directions, he found Marie out by the pond, alongside Kitty, Bobby, Peter, Jubilee, Julian and to his heartwarming surprise, Artie. All of them were dressed in their gear, other than Artie who’d simply donned a black pair of trousers, a black t-shirt and a matching beanie.

“We want to help,” Marie said by way of greeting, and Logan folded his arms across his chest, releasing a slightly exasperated breath. Honestly, he was shocked it took this long for them all to catch on. He was back, and you were nowhere to be seen. Classes had all but ceased completely and the Professor wouldn’t be seen for days, sometimes weeks on end. The rest of their little team nodded with boundless determination.

His chest ached with the knowledge there was no way he was about to let these students, your students, run head-first into danger, no matter how much they wanted to. “Look, kids, as it stands, we don’t even know–” he paused, having to steel his nerves. “We don’t even know if she’s still alive.” It was entirely true. He knew you were alive. You had to be. He’d feel it if you weren’t, right? That’s at least how it felt to him. You were part of each other now, neither whole without the other. If you were head, he’d know it.

Kitty clenched her jaw, her hands balling into firsts by her sides, and Logan felt a pang of guilt. She knew. She must have known he was lying. She was somewhere between a student and an X-man, hovering between still learning and a member of the team. Being so close to you, however, it also seemed she had been left out of all the fun. His sympathy morphed into empathy, feeling her frustration as his own.

“She’s still alive.” Your friend whispered through clenched teeth, and Logan blew out a sigh. “They won’t let them help, sure, they’re still students, but I’m not. I’m part of the goddamn team, Logan. And so are you!” She hissed, and Marie and Bobby shared a look of concern before Rogue’s hand touched her shoulder compassionately.

“We don’t care that we’re students. You said it yourself, we’re stronger than anyone realises. We can help.” Bobby urged, and if Logan was being honest with himself, their argument was fairly convincing. They were strong, much stronger than even you realised. But he also knew that if–

No. Not if. When they got you back, if you ever found out that he’d allowed the students to help on the mission, he was pretty sure you’d castrate him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let ya. Not only cuz you’re still students, but you all know, if she found out I was the one who let you help, I’d be killed.” Huffed a smile of understanding. Of course, they wanted to help you, you’d helped so many of them in the past. But he didn’t think that was it. This wasn’t out of some favour for a favour obligation towards you. You were loved. You were so so loved, by so many.

And by nobody more than him.

“Be our spy then.” Jubilee offered from behind Marie, to which Logan raised a brow.

“And how would I do that when? I’m not involved in the planning.” He tried so hard to keep the frustrated growl from his voice, but Artie's slight step back proved his failure. Fuck.

“You gotta convince them. Please? For us?” The hope in Marie’s voice took him right back to where he’d found her almost three years ago now, running from her past. Running from herself. It made sense how you and she got along so well. You were both running.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Logan could feel seven pairs of eyes all trained on him. He wasn’t one to bend to peer pressure, but at the same time, he needed an excuse for himself to get involved, and if doing it for the kids was enough, then that’s what he’d do.

“Alright. Alright. Damn, you sure none of you has a persuasion mutation?” He asked in a lame attempt to lighten the mood. At least Artie found it funny, the kid giggling away to himself in the back.

Marie beamed in gratitude, leaping into his arms and giving him one of the squeeziest hugs Logan thinks he’s ever received. “I knew you’d help! Thanks, Logan, as soon as you hear anything, please let us know, kay?” She stepped back and Logan once again felt that familiar stab of guilt impale his gut. He knew he was going to have to lie to them, because the moment they found out some kind of progress had been made, they’d be out the door like a shot before he could even start to yell ‘wait’.

“Yeah yeah, just don’t mention anythin’ ‘kay? They don’t let me know anythin’ as it is, so this’ll be hard enough without them thinkin’’m feeding back information to the damn students.” Logan grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Okay?” He repeated after a beat of silence, only this time to a chorus of nodded heads and various ‘yes sir’s. “Good, now back to classes, all of you.”

“But… Professor Grey didn’t turn up to teach us…” Julian chimed in, to Logan’s irate twitch of his brow.

“Then go and study.” His voice left no room for argument as each student bowed their head in defeat and dragged their feet back inside until his was just him and Kitty left behind. Logan studied her face for a bit, much more crestfallen than he’d ever seen her. “Y’alright?” He asked, though instantly kicking himself for the ridiculous question. She was probably just as alright as he was, which was absolutely not alright at all.

Kitty clenched her jaw again, unable to raise her eyes further than the blades of grass at her feet. “She left again…” Logan’s heart cracked for her. You hadn’t had time to explain anything eight months ago after the attack. He didn’t even think you saw her before you left, unable to say goodbye before you were on the road with him. And now, he’d returned and you were still gone.

“She didn’t want to, kiddo. She didn’t have a choice…” he didn’t know how much Kitty knew about your situation, but he assumed anything regarding who you were, what had happened in your past and who had taken you was kept on a need-to-know basis. He hated every tear that spilled from the poor girl’s eyes, her frustration conflicting her her confusion. Wordlessly, Logan stepped forward and enveloped her in his embrace, finding the way she instantly fell into his chest heartbreaking.

“I miss her so much…” she managed to sob, her fingers clutching onto the arms of his jacket. Tears pricked his own hazel eyes, having to tilt his head up to stop them from falling. He hadn’t heard his own agony spoken aloud like this, and pain wracked the centre of his chest.

“Me too.” was all he could utter back, fighting to keep his voice stable, clearing his throat in an attempt to loosen the lump constricting his breathing. Kitty stepped back from his arms, furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her palms.

“Right, yeah, ‘course you do. Sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“You’re good. It’s actually kinda… refreshing. Everyone tip-toes ‘round me like ’m gonna bite their head off. Can’t really blame 'em.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. He guessed he should be grateful for the way people were trying to be respectful, but it only resulted in pissing him off monumentally.

“You have been looking like you want to tear the school down recently…” Kitty giggled lightly, and Logan relaxed, thankful he was able to bring a smile back to the girl’s face. His chest constricted as he thought of your proud smile. Teaching the kids he could do. Making them feel better in any kind of capacity? That’s where he fell short, but you excelled. “S’just… Jade was like a sister to me. I hated her for what happened, but we leant on each other so much, she became the sister to me Jade used to be. And I never told her I didn’t hate her anymore. Because I did, or, at least part of me did, but I let that go…” Kitty took a deep breath, tilting her head to the sky as fresh tears stung her eyes. “What if– what if I don’t get to tell her that?”

Logan grit his teeth. “You will. Listen, I still gotta buncha shit I wanna say to her, and there’s nothin’ that can stop me from sayin’ it. We’ll get her back, aight? I promise.” He sounded a lot more confident than he felt, but Kitty blew out a long breath, her tears remaining behind her lashes. If he could bring her some kind of comfort, then perhaps he could start believing it himself. You weren’t dead. He was set on that. But you were in pain. He knew that too. Because whatever they did to you in the past wouldn’t hold a candle to how things had changed in the last seven years. New technology, new information, new drugs.

New weapons.

He shook his head. Thinking about what you were going through wouldn’t help to get you back. And as if sensing his train of thought, Kitty stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. “We will get her back.” She reiterated, only this time it was for his benefit. He offered her a weak, grim smile, before turning back to head into the mansion once again.

Only to be stopped in his tracks by Jean who came sprinting out the door, almost colliding straight into him. She skidded to a stop, pausing as if she couldn’t find the right words. Logan raised a brow.

“We have a lead.” Was all she said, though her words took a moment to register, Kitty came barrelling up behind him. “Or rather, we found a way in.”

Rap rap rap!

A groan rumbled from your lips as you held your pillow over your ears, your head pounding. Your shift last night had been long and brutal, and that was without the endless shots your coworkers poured for you.

Rap rap rap!

“Fuck off!” You called back, hearing a light giggle from beyond your messy bedroom door.

“C’mon, it’s almost midday! You can’t sleep forever!” You attempted to hide beneath the covers of your bed as Morgana opened the door, her face as bright as it usually was this early in the morning. And by this early, you really meant eleven-forty.

“I’m serious Morgo, fuck off. My shift was exhausting and I just want to sleep forever…” you complained, almost hiding as she drew back the curtains to your window. “Morgana?!”

“Get. Up!” She leapt onto your bed, hardly mindful of wherever your limbs lay, before snuggling in next to you, crimson strands of curly hair falling into your face. You sighed heavily. You loved Morgo, you really did, but she could be a total pain in your ass sometimes.

“She still not up yet?” Rowan called from the door, and you swore lowly as he too stepped into your room, followed by Atlas.

“Yeah sure, party in my room. Free real estate up in here!” You called sarcastically from beneath the covers as Rowan attempted to pull them from your body. You gasped in horror, clutching the duvet like your life depended on it.

“Don’t you fucking dare Rowan, I will drown you in shadow I swear to fucking god!” You bit, earning yourself a fit of giggled from Morgana and an appalled gape from Atlas. Your brother placed his hands on his hips, raising a light gold brow as he looked down at you.

“If you could control your powers like I can, maybe I’d believe you, freakshow. C’mon, ouuuuuut of bed.” He strained against your strength as you briefly played tug of war, before you gave up when Atlas stepped in to help your brother, ripping the covers from your clutch with their combined strength and dragging Morgana with it, the girl falling off the foot of your bed with a heavy thump.

“Hey! What the hell?” She slapped Atlas’ thigh and the poor boy jumped back, offering her a shrug of an apology. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Ya know, I don’t know a single twenty-two-year-old who lays in bed all day. Oh, wait, yeah I do. It’s you.” Rowan poked your now exposed foot and you went to kick him half-heartedly. He took a single step back, out of your range.

“Yeah well, none of you fuckers work nights so–”

“I do!” Erin poked her head around the door, toothbrush sticking out from between her white frothy lips. It seems you weren’t the only one out late. “Well, shometimes, it–”

“Take ya brush out ya mouth, Erin…” Atlas sighed, a hand braced against his brow as if being around you all was exhausting. The girl rolled her eyes, tilting her head up so her minty saliva wouldn’t drip all over the wooden floors.

“It depends on the rota, I don’t work late every shift, unlike you.” She finished, placing the toothbrush back in her mouth and dipping out of sight. You heard the tap run as Erin spit out her toothpaste, returning around the door as she wiped her mouth, “We need to get you a new job, girlie. This one’s destroying you. Honestly, you could carry my weekly shop in the bags under your eyes.” Erin crossed the room with the sole purpose of prodding the centre of your nose, before plopping her ass down on the bed next to you.

You looked at the four of them individually, finding a bubble of happiness blooming in your chest. You loved these people. They were your family. They were everything to you. And despite your shitty job, your long hours, the tiny apartment that the seven of you were supposed to share, and how antisocial Naji was, you found yourself feeling extremely grateful for your circumstances.

“I’ll look into it…” you sighed, much to Erin and Altas’ shared glee. Clearly, he was getting tired of healing your various bar-wounds, coming home with various cuts on your palm from where you’d completely misjudged the fall of your knife when slicing up garnish.

“Knew ya would!” Erin chimed, twirling a strand of her badly dyed green hair between her fingers. Her justification was that she could control nature, so surely she should look green, no? But her original black roots had started to show through and she couldn’t be bothered to go through the faff of dyeing it all over again, so she’d just decided to grow it out.

With an irritated sigh, you stretched your arms high above your head, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to rid yourself of the crick in your neck. “Fine, I’ll get up. God, I hate Saturdays. None of you motherfuckers seem to work weekends either.” You grumbled, shooting an exasperated look to Atlas as he muttered ‘language’ under his breath.

“Did you have ya dream again?” Morgana asked, finally removing herself from your floor and dusting herself off. Rowan and Atlas went to head back down the stairs, where you could now smell bacon rising from the kitchen. Maybe it was worth getting up if Rowan was making breakfast. Or lunch, you guessed.

“Hm?” You asked, having not listened to her question at all. The girl rolled her eyes, slapping your arm as she followed you to the bathroom.

“Your dream? Did ya have it? I need to know more about Mr.Sexy and his hot claws.” She grinned and you snorted a laugh, before taking a moment to try to remember if you even dreamed at all last night. Though your awakening had been rude, you’d awoken feeling a slight panic in your chest which had nothing to do with Morgana storming your room. Although if you were being quite honest, you didn’t really want her to know more than she already did. You had a sneaking suspicion she was writing down your dreams in the hopes that she would dream of your nighttime visitor.

“Yeah, actually, I did…” you started hesitantly, giving her reflection in the mirror a flat look as she clapped her hands excitedly. Erin scooted over across your bed so she could be involved in the conversation, listening through the open door. “I don’t remember much of it,” you confessed, rolling your eyes as Morgana’s face fell. “But it was pretty mundane. We were just…” you took a moment, pretending to try and remember what it was about. “We were just chatting. On a bed, but like, a four-poster bed. Same one as last time, with the whole crossed gun thing above the headboard” It was one you’d genuinely had before, and Morgana’s shoulder sagged in disappointment. “Sorry Morgo.”

“Wait that’s so cute, why’re you apologising?” Erin called from the bed, and you snorted a laugh.

“Because I’ve had that one before. It seems to be recurring.” You shrugged, feeling a little nugget of guilt swell in your gut. Now you’d thought about it, your dream last night had been harrowing. You were caked in blood, lying on the road. He was reaching for you, stationary, the world around swirling and blurry with shadows before you blinked and he was gone. Two months you’d been having dreams similar to this one, or at least starring the same man. He was incredibly attractive, hence Morg’s nickname for him after you described him to her, but you knew nothing about him. Each dream he was silent. You were too. You were just near each other, either doing mundane things or going through what you assumed was the worst moment of your dream self’s life. It was really fucking weird.

“Awww… I wanted something new.” Morgana pouted and you narrowed your eyes at her reflection, spitting your toothpaste into the basin before splashing water across your face in a lame attempt to freshen up and wash away the memory of your nightmare.

Twirling to face her, you placed a hand on your hip. “Yeah well, seems my mind’s just conjuring shit on repeat now sooooo…” you made a face and Morgana stuck her tongue out at you, before padding out the bathroom with you in tow.

“Still, s’interesting you get dreams of the same guy. S’like you’re having a relationship in your head… wait no that just sounds sad.” Erin furrowed her brows in an attempt to think of another way of putting it, but gave up almost instantly. You flopped back down on your bed, leaning forward to your chest of drawers against the left side wall, and the fact you could easily reach the drawers from your bed was a testament to just how small your room was. Pulling out a loose pair of sweats and a grey hoodie, you didn’t hesitate to strip in front of the two girls. Having known them since childhood, it was an uncommon occurrence for the three of you to change in front of each other. And this was no different. Though Morgana’s brows furrowed as her eyes found a scar cutting straight across your chest, from just above your left breast, over the centre of your breastbone, to down below the right-hand side of your ribcage. It was gnarled and jagged, a slice made without much care, but you couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have it.

“That’s new, when’dya get that?” She asked, eyeing you suspiciously. You’re head cocked to one side, raising a brow in confusion.

“I’ve always had this, whaddya mean?” An ember of concern ignited in your gut as you regarded her for a moment. You watched the way her eyes lost focus, almost dissociating for a moment, before she shook her head to clear the haze behind her eyes.

“Right… yeah no you totally have. Sorry, must be goin’ nuts.” The girl grinned, and you inhaled a relieved breath. You didn’t need Morgana careening off the rails right now. She was the one who kept you stable, or at least less grumpy.

“S’alright. Tough few days?” You tugged on your sweats, already hating the fact that in two hours, you’d have to be getting ready for work. It took an hour to commute to the bar, that’s if the buses were on time and not disappearing randomly. God you fucking hated the public transport here.

Morgana nodded a little absently as if still fighting back whatever brain fog she’d just encountered. “Yeah, something like that…” She trailed off, and you didn’t push any further. It happens to all of you from time to time. You were talking to Altlas the other day about the way you’d all graffiti the walls of your first hideout when you were kids, talking in detail about the first sketch you’d done before transferring it onto the wall. Only, he didn’t remember it that way. You went back and forth for a while, until he had that same faraway look enter his eye, and all of a sudden he was agreeing with you, as if a switch was flipped in his brain.

“Oh! Before he left Joseph said you could have the rest of his milkshake, by the way. In payment for the pasta you made him yesterday.” Erin chimed in, examining her nails, her legs sprawled across your bed like it was her own. And honestly, you all acted like that. The rooms were all pretty communal at this point, you’d known each other for so long.

You perked up a little. Milkshake and bacon? Maybe getting up before midday was worth it after all. Not that it was much before midday now, and in fact, the small alarm on your watch just told you it had just gone twelve. Only two hours til you needed to leave.

Fucking great.

“Kind of him, I’d take it with me if Carlos wasn’t such a stickler for company drinks. I think he’d stab me if I brought in my own…” You half-joked, to both Erin and Morgana’s morbid shock.

“Girl we really need to get you a new job.”

“Like, ASAP…” Morg finished, and you scoffed slightly. You didn’t need one that badly. Just one within the next few years would be nice…

You blew out a breath, standing from your bed after pulling on a pair of warm socks. There was a winter chill in the air, and you were certain this year was going to be a cold one. You could feel it in your bones. Rubbing at your arms, you almost slipped down the stairs, Morgana’s hand instantly steadying your steps in a hand clutching your arm. How fucking tired were you? It felt like your legs straight up didn’t damn work.

“Enjoy your trip?” You heard Rowan call from the stove, and you clenched your jaw against your dumb smile. God, you hated that joke. Or, at least, you told yourself you did, when in actual fact it made you smile every damn time he said it.

“Ha-ha, yeah ‘see you next fall’ you’re so fucking funny Ro’.” Smoothing your brow with your hand, you went to sit at the breakfast far, the rest of your found family having forsaken a dining table upon moving in and instead opting for this slightly decrepit, unstable wooden bar with garish-coloured seats that were various heights. Even the lighting matched the anarchy of the decor, the scrappy bulb flickering every so often. None of the furniture matched in your apartment but to be honest, that was part of the reason you loved it so much. It was chaotic, but it was home.

Your heart spasmed in pain, to the point where your brow furrowed. What the fuck just happened? Rowan seemed to have noticed as well, sending your an inquisitive look, which you instantly brushed off. Nothing to worry about. At least, not yet.

Rowan shrugged, shimmying the pan of baken in his hand before removing three slices and placing them on a plate before you, alongside a freshly washed fork clearly leftover from last night’s takeout they all had that you weren’t invited to because you were at fucking work goddamnit.

“Thanks, Ro’, smells great.” You offered him a small smile, one he returned, before heading over to the far too-small fridge to dig out the rest of Joseph’s milkshake he’d said you could have. You didn’t mind making pasta for him yesterday. In fact, you kind of enjoyed it. Most of the time, when the rest of your family ate, you were at work so you never got the opportunity to cook for them. That was mostly down to Rowan unless he was working the late shift at his apprenticeship, in which case the two of you would leave together and the other’s had to fend for themselves.

It was often a bombsite when you’d return.

With the first mouthful of crispy, smokey bacon, you quickly decided getting out of bed was worth the aggravation, even more so when you dumped a whole load of maple syrup onto your plate. You don’t think you’d ever met a Canadian in your life, but if and when you did, you might just have to kiss them for even being associated with maple syrup.

Speaking of sweet treats…

“Anyone want one of my special hot chocs? I’m annoyed and up early so my treat for having to deal with me,” you grinned a little wickedly into your milkshake, the room whirling in complete surprise, to the point where you had to hold up your hands in defence. “What did I say?”

“Whaddya mean ‘special hot choc’?” Rowan asked accusingly. “I’ve never taught you how to make hot chocolate before!”

“Yeah, I’m with Ro on this one. Since when did you have a special hot chocolate recipe?” Erin almost pouted, as if you’d deliberately been keeping it from her.

You thought for a moment. They were right, you didn’t always have a hot chocolate recipe. You only learned that from…

Wait, who?

And when you went…

Wait, where?

Maybe you didn’t have a special recipe after all. Were you just remembering things wrong? YOu must be. Where and when would you have picked up a special recipe for Christ’s sake? You haven’t been anywhere with anyone to have done that.

Must have been the exhaustion talking. The lights flickered again.

“Must be going crazy…” you mumbled, accepting the fact that no, you didn’t have a special hot chocolate recipe.

You felt something wither away and die in your chest.

“You really gotta stop all those late nights.” Rowan placed a hand on your shoulder, concern etched in the pinch of his brow. It hadn’t been too long ago you and Rowan had fought, the argument you’d had still echoing in your brain. It was over your mutation, and his since it was so similar yet the complete opposite. He’d berated you for not having gained control of it yet after accidentally plunging a supermarket in a blanket of shadow upon finding out they were out of your favourite bread. It wasn’t your fault, really, but you’d made the whole situation worse when you lost complete control.

Three people were taken to hospital.

Two of them died.

You shook your head. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. You’d managed to repair the relationship between you and your brother, there was no point dwelling on the past.

The idle chatter of the kitchen continued as you fell silent, turning your attention instead to the strange series of dreams you’d been having. Most of you only remembered because Morgana would remind you multiple times a day by bringing it up all the time. But there was one thing you hadn’t told her that had occurred in almost every single dream you had.

One word.

Or an animal you guessed.

Or a bug.

Were bugs animals?

Did the animal kingdom include fish and birds as well as mammals?

Shit, you were getting off-topic. Your brows furrowed in concentration, trying to remember your train of thought. What the fuck were you just thinking about? Your jaw clenched with the effort of remembering. You swore you were deep within–

Firefly.

The chair clattered behind you as you shot from your seat, eyes round and wide in panic. What the fuck was going on? Where were you? You could barely register the faces of those around you, but you knew you hadn’t seen them all in a long long time. You weren’t supposed to be here. None of this was real. You were back, he’d found you again. Shit! Where was L–

“You okay…?”

The tension left your body as Morgana settled a hand on your shoulder, her auburn brows pinched in worry. Darkness swam at the edges of your vision, before you shook your head slightly, freeing yourself of your daze.

“Yeah… shit, yeah, sorry. Fuck, what is wrong with me today?” Your voice shook slightly as you gave your family a slightly nervous smile, bending to pick the chair back up. Fuck, you really needed to sleep more. Fucking job was going to kill you off. For sure.

A quick flick of your wrist and you saw you had around an hour and a half before you needed to leave. A heavy sigh blew from your lips as you downed the rest of Joseph’s milkshake he’d so kindly donated to you, before shooting an annoyed look to the bulb as it briefly turned the kitchen into a club dancefloor, before winking out completely.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me…” Rowan lamented, placing down whatever protein shake he’d opted for the morning and dragging over a barstool to stand on. “I told Naji we needed to get this shit fixed and he told me he’d text the landlord, but this is just–”

None of you were strangers to natural phenomena. You were fucking mutants, for Christ’s sake, your very existence was a natural phenomenon. However, watching a barstool blink out of existence entirely wasn’t exactly on your list of things you’d ever seen. Or even things you would like to see. Rowan was cut off midsentence as he crashed to the floor.

You all stood in utterly stunned silence.

“Y’all saw that too, right?” Erin asked, glancing warily around the room before taking a small step toward Atlas next to the window. Well, that was one suspicion you’d had confirmed then. Tension thickened the air, static apprehension making your saliva sweet and your breath hot. What the fuck was going on?

Rowan stood from the ground, dusting himself off, his gaze tracking warily around the perimeter of the room. Another mutant, perhaps? It wasn’t exactly common in the area, but it wasn’t unheard of. Some poor kid with shitty control over their new mutation discovers their first big act of power was accidentally erasing a barstool out of existence. “Chill out, it’s most likely a power cut or some new electromagnetic mutation. We’re fine.” Rowan attempted to soothe, though his voice was anything but convincing. Especially when a squeaked gasp emitted from next to the window, where Atlas had flipped up the blind to the outside world.

“Does the sun get power cuts too? Or did you just absorb a bunch of light this morning, Ro?” Morgana asked, though her eyes were trained on the pitch black outside the crummy window. You crossed the kitchen alongside Rowan, the five of your leaning out of the window to get a good look at whatever the fuck was going on.

Or rather… not going on.

“What the hell…?” Rowan muttered as you all watched the outside world flicker in and out of existence. One second it would be the neighbourhood you’d come to know so well, the next the sky turned grey and grainy, like an old TV trying to find signal. The flat next door would completely disappear, replaced by walls of steel. Your heart raced, stomach flipping.

“Joseph’s still at work…” You breathed, and Morgana turned to you as if she’d only just realised it too, fear flickering in her dark crimson eyes.

“I’ll text him, let me–” Atlas was cut off swiftly, the floor beneath your feet flickering, before that too completely disappeared, and you were all plummeting to the ground. Wind whipped at your hair as you desperately flung your arms out in search of a shadow.

“ERIN!” Morgana screamed as Erin’s hand extended before her, attempting to search for some kind of plant life. But your flat had become nothing, merely glitches of light around you. A strong arm circled your waist and turned to see Rowan’s golden eyes wide with fear.

“My shadow!” He called, flipping the two of you so you were beneath him. You didn’t think twice, trusting he had a plan before your molecules dissolved into the darkness across his front. You could still hear the rush of wind, Morgana’s cry of pain before the descent started to slow and you could sense various shadows around you growing. The moment your world seemed solid enough, you reformed, your eyes taking a moment to adjust before you registered Altas healing the nasty looking cut on Morgana’s hand, blue glowing particles rising from where his palm encased her hand.

She must have slowed your fall, the steel floor now a pool of blood where she’d borderline drained herself to save the rest of you. Wordlessly, you crossed to where she swayed slightly, placing her arm around your shoulder to act as a support.

“Thanks…” She murmured, closing her eyes to recover from that woozy feeling of using too much of her power. You went to brush off her gratitude, to tell her it was the least you could do after she’d just saved your lives, before part of the wall before you started to close in an inch. With a hiss and a screech, the steel split in two, casting a rectangle of blinding light and causing you all to throw up your hands.

“Guys?”

You all knew that voice, and there was a collective sigh of relief when Joseph stepped through the door. But the voice you knew to be full of jokes and laughter sounded exhausted, beaten. Defeated. Where the fuck had he been?

“Joes? What the fuck is going on?” Rowan called, dimming the light so you could all remove your hand-shaped shields from your eyes. “Where’ve you– Holy shit are you okay?” Rowan ran forward, catching Joes as his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.

A gasp flew from your lips. He was caked in blood. And not in the way Mogana would be if she somehow lost control. He’d been hurt. Badly. Almost surgically. Various parts of his skin had been removed to leave behind raw, pulsing muscle exposed to the outside. His face had been all but completely disfigured, where his eyes used to be dark and inviting, the whites were now bloodshot and his pupils dilated.

“Move,” Atlas instructed sternly, Rowan shifting slightly to the side before he lay his hands on Joes’ chest in the same way he did for Morgana, those same blue particles rising and winding around Joes like grapevines, dipping into his various wounds and closing them over.

“They’re here to help us,” Joes muttered, his head lolling to look back out the gap in the wall. What the fuck was he talking about? Help you do what? One moment you were all having brunch and you were sipping a milkshake, the next your fucking flat had disappeared and you’d all plummeted fifty feet straight down.

You cast Morgana a confused glance, now recovering quickly, and she sent you one right back. “Who’s here?” You asked, eyes lingering on the fear in Morgo’s before Joes pointed out beyond the darkness and into the light.

Three elongated shadows shrouded the light, but it was the one in the centre who drew your attention. Broad-shouldered, strong-armed, with two little flicks of hair licked up either side of his head. You knew that outline, like a memory forgotten, or a faded dream. With the light behind them, you couldn’t see their faces, but you could see they all wore the same suits. The girl on the right gasped, her hands covering her mouth as she almost fell to her knees.

Morgana tilted her head in confusion, and you shrugged, not taking your eyes from the three shrouded figures.

Though you felt a well of unspecific emotion rise in your chest as the man in the centre spoke, his tone soft, voice deep and gruff.

“Hey, firefly.”

Logan didn’t know what he would say to you when he saw you again. When Jean had told him they’d found a lead, he expected it to be at least another month before anything would actually happen about it. He wasn’t expecting the entire team to have assembled already, suits and all, prepared to head out that night. His chest constricted with impatience when the team were stalking the halls. He knew they all had the element of surprise, but if he was being honest, stealth was never really his strong suit. He just wanted to find you. He just wanted to hold you and apologise as many times as he needed to in order to ease the heavy weight of guilt off his shoulders.

What would he say to you? How much he’d fucking missed you? How sorry he was he couldn’t protect you. How he’d promised he’d keep you safe and then lost you? But the moment those doors opened and he saw you, with Sanguine leaning heavily on your shoulders, all and any words quickly left his mind. You looked tired. That wasn’t to say you didn’t always look tired, but you looked fucking exhausted. Dangerously skinny, as well. The muscles on your arms had all but faded, your cheeks had hollowed, and your neck looked like it could be snapped with a light breeze. Fuck you looked so fragile.

“We’re gonna get you out, okay?” Logan took a step forward, only for you and the rest of the mutants to take a step back. A spear thudded into the centre of his soul as he watched you try to figure out what was going on. But it was the look in your eyes that shattered every fibre of his being.

Unfamiliarity.

You had no idea who he was.

“They don’t remember,” Joes said, rising from the floor once Atlas had taken a step back away from Logan, Scott and Kitty. She’d insisted she came with the rest of the team and said she’d just hide in the walls anyway, so they may as well take her along willingly. Scott begrudgingly agreed.

“We don’t remember what?” Logan’s eyes slid to the man with the golden hair and eyes, who looked remarkably similar to you. Rowan. His eyes narrowed. “Joes what the fuck is going on? What don’t we remember? Who are you fuckers?”

“Rowan!” The man next to him hissed. Judging from his appearance and general attitude, Logan guessed that must have been Atlas, or Harmony. He’d already run into Joseph, and rescued him when Ororo controlled enough lightning to short out their electrical units, plunging the facility into total darkness. All that was left of that practice room was blood and entrails.

Logan had made sure of it.

“None of this is real, Ro’. They’ve been forcing Naji to fuck with our minds, man. Every time one of us goes to ‘work’, they take us out into the real world and fuck with us. You saw the state I was in, man. C’mon!” Joseph pleaded, and Logan could see the cogs turning in your brain as if trying to process what he was saying.

“The fuck are you talking about?” The girl with the bright green hair piped up, boldly stepping towards Joseph and dragging him back towards the rest of the group protectively. “Who’s ‘they’? Whaddya mean fuck with us?”

“Naji wouldn’t do that, Joes.” Your just managed to keep the tremor from your voice, dropping Morgana’s arm from around your shoulders and taking a cautious step towards your brother. What the fuck was going on? You looked between the three newcomers, the girl on the right stepped forward, and your eyes narrowed on her. “Another step and you’re dead.” You hissed, extending your hand behind you to the shadows as if you could do anything but disappear into them. Morgana drew out her knife from her boot and sliced open her palm, blood swirling and morphing until three sharp spears floated above her head.

“Let’s all just take a breath…” Logan murmured in an attempt to soothe the rising tensions in the room. Why he’d thought this would go smoothly, he had no idea and found his present self kicking his past self for making such stupid fucking assumptions. He held out his palms in peace, trying in vain to come across as non-threatening as possible, his eyes trained on you. “It’s okay…” His brows pinched as you looked at him with disdain.

Who the fuck was this guy? Sure he looked and sounded exactly the same as your dream visitor, but you refused to believe they were one of the same. Just some freaky coincidence, and you didn’t even know if his mutation was the same. He hadn’t shown anything yet, and for all you knew, it could be something completely different.

But a hole of doubt had burned through your gut.

“Wait… isn’t that–”

“Shut the fuck up, Morgo.” You hissed before Morgana could even finish her inquiry. You knew exactly what she was about to ask, you’d felt her eyes flicker between you and the man ever since he’d called you firefly.

Total coincidence…

“She has a point though. Naji wouldn’t do that to us. Sure he’s antisocial and spends most of his time in his room, but we’re still his friends. His family. He wouldn’t do that… would he?” Uncertainty laced Erin’s tone as she eyed the three outsiders suspiciously, reaching into her back pocket. You glanced her way, holding your breath. You knew what he had stored away in her cargo pants, not just in her back pocket, but in all of them. Various seeds for every variety of plant you could think of, her favourite being the Venus fly trap because of course that was Erin’s favourite plant.

Logan’s chest spasmed at Erin’s words. He knew he was going to have to take them all to Charles and return their memories to them. Not knowing what would happen to the bonds you’d all made with each other terrified him. What if that just made everything ten times worse? What if you and the others remembered everything and decided to go along with Kreva’s plan? He’d already seen Rowan, Morgana and Joseph working for Kreva…

What would stop them this time?

“This is taking too damn long…” Scott muttered, throwing a glance behind his shoulder to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them. Logan couldn’t help but agree. It was taking far too long. He didn’t want to take any of you by force. That was a last resort, and only if you couldn’t be convinced. If it went against your current wishes, he honestly didn’t give a fuck. You weren’t safe here. You were back where you started, and he’d be fucking damned if he was leaving without you today. Taking the others was a luxury, taking you was the priority.

“Let me talk to them. Please. They don’t know what’s going on. Naji restores our memories before the testing begins, but they’re always erased and replaced when we come back. They don’t know anything, just give them time.” Logan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Joseph. He was the only one out of the group, perhaps other than Naji, who knew what was going on and was stuck between saving his friends and getting the fuck out of there.

“You have thirty seconds.”

“Scott!” It was the first time Kitty had spoken up since seeing you, and to be honest, Logan had almost completely forgotten she was there. She’d been non-verbal, dealing with whatever she was dealing with after seeing you in the state you were in for the first time in two months. Now, however, she seemed to have recovered.

Unlike Logan, who still found it difficult to look at you, yet equally difficult to look away.

“Thank you, man,” Joseph nodded his head in gratitude, before turning back to the rest of the group. “Look, I don’t know how to convince you, but they got a mutant back at this crazy mutant school that can help get your memories back. He’s like, the only one other than Naji who can do it.”

“If this is true,” you began, folding your arms across your chest in a way that had Logan holding his breath, the familiarity nauseating. “Then why don’t we just ask Naji to restore them? He’s our fucking friend, Joes. Why would he do this?” You implored him to see reason. To see that there was no reality where Naji would work against the group, antisocial or not.

“Because they’ve–”

“Now now, Subject Three. Don’t go spoiling all of our secrets now, will you?”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled, though the voice meant nothing to you. You didn’t recognise it at all, but you noticed the way the three newcomers all bristled and the way Joes seemed to shrivel in fear. Following ‘Scott’’s gaze, you looked up to see Naji, bruised and beaten, his neck held in a vice grip by some formless, faceless figure with a large gun slung over his back. The mirrored window had been smashed open, blood leaking from Naji’s knuckles as his legs dangled over the side, held out over the shattered glass by the throat.

“Joes…” Rowan growled in instruction, the rest of you already being on the same page. Joes could teleport not only himself but various other people of different numbers depending on size and mass. But the man just stood there, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring in utter terror as Naji gurgled and fought against the hold around his neck.

“Kreva.” You heard the muscular man behind you snarl, and your mind did somersaults as three long, razor-sharp claws slid from his knuckles. There was no point in denying it anymore. It was most definitely the same mutant from your dreams.

“Ah, The Wolverine. How darling to see you again. Here for Subject Eight, I presume? There’s no point. It remembers nothing of your cosy little forest getaway.” Dr Kreva covered his mouth theatrically, gasping as if he’d made a terrible mistake. “Oh no, have I said too much? No matter. Once all you X-men are disposed of, this will be nothing but a bad dream to them. Isn’t that right, Eight?” It took a moment to realise the skinny, crooked-nosed man was addressing you, but how the fuck were you supposed to know that when he wasn’t even calling you by your name. And what the fuck did he mean by ‘cosy forest getaway’? You’d never even left the city.

“The fuck is going on…?” You asked aloud, taking a step back and towards Joes, who was still stuck in frozen, abject horror. “Joes… you gotta get him. He’s gonna fucking kill him!” You hit his arm with enough force to break the man from his terror-stricken paralysis, only for him to blink away from you, shaking his head wildly as if his mind was a wasp’s nest, his nails digging into either side of his temple.

“No no no nono nononononono–” Your mouth fell agape in fear as he fell to his knees, small rivulets of blood leaking down either side of his face as he clawed at the sides of his head.

“Joes?”

“Joes!”

“The hell?”

Adrenaline pumped through your blood as you slowly started to realise whatever the fuck was going on, it very much was not good. In fact, it was most likely that all of your lives were on the line. And you knew that right here, right now, you had to make a choice. You all did.

“You got a clear shot, Scott?” Kitty asked, stepping behind Logan slightly. Though he didn’t mind. As long as she was safe and out of the line of whatever fire could come their way, he was more comfortable. Now if only he could get you in a similar way.

“Lined up.”

“Don’t shoot!” Rowan waved his arms frantically as Scott’s fingers braced against his glasses, jumping between the mutant and his friend. “If you shoot Naji’s dead, for sure. Just– just hold on, okay? We can figure this out.” He pleaded, to the amusement of Dr. Kreva from above, his cackling laughter sure to haunt your nightmares for a good long while after.

“Oh, Five… always the peacekeeper. Always the pacifist. It’s a shame you’re such a killing machine, though nothing like your sibling. We should showcase that, Eight. Show them all what you’re capable of…” Kreva placed a thumb and forefinger beneath his chin mockingly, once again making a show of having you all at his mercy. “In fact… One, if you could. Not too much though, just enough to unleash the Phantom.” You felt your blood turn to ice in your veins. That was your mutant name… how the fuck did he–

Pain ripped through your mind as you fell to your knees, your hands biting painfully as you caught yourself before you broke your nose on the ground. Though where you should have felt cold steel, you instead heard the groaning of tight leather and a low grunt of impact.

It felt as if you were being unstitched, torn open with a rusty knife. Your head split apart and searched inside as Naji’s mutation invaded your conscience. You heard a scream coming from somewhere but were too focused on trying to stay sane as memory fragments of pure agony were thrust into the inner walls of your mind, scraping down your subconscious. White hot pain laced through your throat and you finally realised it was you screaming, your voice cracking and breaking as you fought Naji’s hold.

Rowan screamed your name as Logan lunged forward to catch your fall, dragging you into his lap and holding your arms by your sides. “We gotta go!” He roared to Scott, who nodded in agreement, barking out orders just as Kurt bamfed into existence. Morgana reached for you as Kurt placed his three-fingered hand on her shoulder, her desperate scream cut short as she was teleported from the room. Logan turned his attention back to you, back to the searing torment etched on your face as you writhed in his arms. “I know baby, I know, it hurts, just hold on.” He called your name soothingly, though his voice shook. Seeing you like this, in such pain, ripped at his self-control. And he loathed how you would have to do this all again when he got you back home.

What Logan didn’t know, was that you’d heard his voice, and held onto it. You wouldn’t let yourself be manipulated so easily. Fighting Naji hurt. It hurt like hell. He was fucking strong, winding a white-hot thread of memories throughout your head, but you thrashed and flailed from his twisting web, using your dream visitor’s voice as an anchor point.

“What’s happening to her?” Logan’s eyes left your face for two seconds to meet with a pair of golden ones he’d only ever seen fighting against him. Rage flared in his gut as he thought of the man who’d assisted in your capture, but this wasn’t the same guy. Sure, he had his body and his face and his powers, but this was a sibling. A brother. He was your brother, and Logan could see that in the way terror pinched his brows and widened his eyes.

“I don’t know, but we need to get her out. Now.” Logan responded, removing a hand from your arm to smooth back your hair as your neck all but snapped backwards, head almost rolling off his lap completely as your entire body contorted violently. It was getting worse.

Rowan nodded, a flicker of determination glittering in his golden eyes, before extending his hand out towards the light. “I can buy you time. Get her safe,” he instructed, and Logan found his rage toward him settling slightly. “I’m R–”

“Rowan. Yeah, I know. She spoke about you a shit ton.” He gave Rowan a half smile as his head tilted in confusion. Logan held out his hand. “Logan.”

Though the bafflement didn’t fade, Rowan shook his hand nonetheless, before getting to his feet, his hand still extended towards the light. “When I say run, run.”

“Thought you were a pacifist?” Logan asked, holding you tight against his chest as he lifted you from the ground, the shadows in the room now quivering in anticipation. Naji was winning. With a glance to both Scott and Kitty, he could see they’d been listening in and were ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“Not when they threaten my fucking sister,” He spat, the skin along his forearms and neck beginning to glow a bright, blinding white. “Go.” Was all he said, before the room erupted in sunlight, and Logan took off at a sprint, keeping you close to his heart. He had you back physically, your strained breaths and grunted whimpers told him that much.

Now he just needed to get you back mentally. And for that, he needed Charles.

“S’okay, you’re okay, just a little longer baby, I know…” he soothed as he raced round the corner, struggling to hold you still as you fought his hold, the darkness of the corridor lashing out in great, spiked tendrils, slashing at his arms and legs and leaving searing lines of crimson through the leather of his suit. His stomach flipped as he looked down at you, your spine arching back, head snapping, eyes rolling up behind your skull leaving behind nothing but black, hollow darkness. He was losing you. Fuck, he was losing you.

“C’mon on sweetheart, c’mon.” He ground, feet pounding against the floor as one of his shoulders was ripped back, knives of pure shadow tearing through flesh. He grit his teeth against the pain, racing through a set of open doors and launching the two of you towards the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. Your mouth opened as you released a strangled scream, your limbs jerking and flailing in his grasp, Logan almost losing his grip on your writhing body. Tucking your head between his collar and jaw, he pressed on until he could finally see the service door they’d snuck in through. “S’okay, not much farther now. Keep fightin’ him, firefly. You gotta keep fightin’.”

Serrated knives tore through your memories, flashes of pure, unadulterated agony rushing your nerves, setting your veins alight with liquid fear. Thrashing your head back, you attempted to clear your mind’s eye of Naji’s hold, razorwire slicing at the base of your brain. You had very little knowledge of brain anatomy, only knowing the basics, but you knew for certain he was attempted to break through your hippocampus both physically and hypothetically. But you held onto him. Onto the man who, in turn, held you. A kernel of safety shining within the ocean of fiery anguish. You held onto his voice, their meaning.

Shadows swirled around your wrists, encasing your hands in two sets of obsidian claws, raking down both sides of Logan’s arms. You were losing the battle, he knew you were, if Joseph was right and you didn’t remember anything, there was no way you’d have this kind of control over your mutation. Using his already-healed shoulder, he burst through the locked service door and barrelled down the stone tunnel, out into the night-air. He didn’t know what Obscurity’s range was for his mutation, but he had to assume it was limitless. Anything less and he was likely to let his guard down.

Breath burned in his lungs as he sprinted for the jet, hearing the door behind him open and close another two times for both Scott and Kitty. He didn’t know how many of your friends Kurt had managed to rescue, but it didn’t matter to him. You were there, in his arms. And as long as that was his reality, he didn’t give a shit about anything else.

His feet thundered against the metal of the ramp, and ducking into the deck of the Blackbird, he was greeted by an extremely concerned-looking Jean the moment her eyes lay on you.

“Help me…” Logan begged, collapsing to his knees, and the redhead wasted no time in extending her hand towards your rapidly twitching head, veins of pitch black etching their way up your neck towards your temples. Instantly, Jean grimaced, her mouth gaping in some unseen pain as she entered your mind. All Logan could do was sit and watch helplessly as she engaged in some kind of mental battle with Naji. Her brows pinched with effort, the tendons along the backs of her hands flexing and tensing with strain. Logan desperately swiped your sweat-matted hair from your brow as if to clear a better path for Jean’s mutation.

“Jean!” Scott barked, fear echoing around the deck of the jet as he lunged forward towards his girlfriend, only to be held back by Ororo, who looked utterly exhausted. She’d been high above the facility, concentrating on keeping the power down with various surges of lightning. And now she looked completely spent.

Slowly, gradually, your twitching started to cease, each muscle in your body relaxing separately as Jean managed to exorcise your mind of Naji’s manipulation, until you sagged in Logan’s arms, your breathing steady, your eyes closed as if you were just sleeping. Scott broke free of Ororo’s hold, rushing for Jean before she collapsed onto the hard ground. “You okay?” He asked, bracing her face in between his palms. Jean offered him a tired nod, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Got her back.” She murmured, and Logan clenched his jaw to stop tears welling in his eyes. He gently manoeuvred your body to lie comfortably in his lap, the back of your head nestled in the crook of his elbow, his arm encasing your waist. You were back.

You were back.

Kitty knelt beside you, a hand grasping your limp, skeletal one, tears silently sliding down her cheeks. Logan knew what she was thinking. What she was contemplating. What had they done to you? What fresh horrors would you be battling once they returned your memories? Logan’s thumb slowly caressed your protruding ribs. He’d be there with you. Whatever you had to endure next, whatever fresh hell awaited you when you woke, he’d be right there next to you.

“We gotta go…” Scott muttered urgently to Ororo, who looked out beyond the ramp to the Blackbird, awaiting Kurt’s next arrival.

“We can’t… they’re still in there!” Morgana raised her head from where she’d been sat on one of the seats. “Atlas, Joseph, Naji and Rowan are still–” she was cut off by another puff of blue smoke, Kurt falling to the ground and releasing Rowan’s arm from around his shoulder. Blood leaked from the blonde’s nose, his hands braced against the steel as he caught his breath.

“Is she okay?” Were his first words, barely looking around before his golden eyes rested on your unconscious form and Logan’s protective hold. He could almost smell your brother’s disdain, his nostrils flaring as he slowly pieced together the narrative in front of him. “Logan, right?”

Logan nodded once, returning Rowan’s cold look with one of his own, baring his teeth ever so slightly as he tried to gauge the threat of you being taken from him again. Rowan visually backed off, his expression to exhaustion. “I guess a lot can happen when you don’t see someone for eight years. As long as you take care of her, that’s cool with me.” Rowan shrugged, having recognised just exactly what he was looking at.

As the Blackbird rose from the ground, Morgana clicked the belt across her middle and shakily made her way over to sit next to Rowan, eyes flickering between you and him.

“So… those dreams she had… they were actually memories?” She asked him slowly, and it took a moment for Logan to process all the subtext of the question before he nodded again. Even with your memories replaced, you could never truly forget him. The realisation made his chest swell and his heart ache. He was acutely aware of Rowan listening into the conversation. “Holy shit…” She breathed, tapping your arm lightly. “I hope you’re listening, you lucky bitch. He’s fucking gorgeous.”

So this was the Morgana from the reports. This was the girl he’d read about, not the one who aided in your capture two months ago. What the fuck had Kreva done to you all? How could he get Naji to manipulate you all in such a way? To the point where you’d all help him. Although it was a nice breath of fresh air for even a thread of humour to be woven into the cockpit. “Right, Erin? You’re with me on this, yeah?”

Morgana turned to the green-haired girl who’d curled up against the wall, her hands hugging her knees against her chest. “Erin…?” Morgana asked tentatively, and only then did Erin look up.

“We fucking left them.” She spat, her eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. “Atlas… Joes, Naji…. We just fucking left them. You got your precious Phantom back and just abandoned the rest of them.” Her hands flexed around her knees, chest tight.

“I’m sorry…” Kurt piped up from where he’d been nursing a small graze on his arm. “I couldn’t… It was carnage in there. I rescued who I could but–”

“Yeah well, it wasn’t fucking good enough. Who said we even needed rescuing anyway? This could all be total bullshit.” She hissed through gritted teeth, and Rowan placed a hand protectively on your shoulder. Logan knew he shouldn’t have bristled the way he did, the man had proven himself loyal, but he couldn’t help the memories of that night flashing to the forefront of his mind.

“Erin, we’re not abandoning them. We’re gonna go get them back, right?” Rowan looked to the rest of Logan’s team, who in turn looked at each other in uncertainty. They had you back. That’s what they came for. But something niggled at Logan’s mind. You wouldn’t stop there. If the tables had been turned and you were saving him, you wouldn’t stop until everyone was safe. He himself included, but that was given.

“No. We’re not abandoning them,” He spoke for his team, five heads snapping towards him, each with their own look of shock. “Ya know she’s just gonna go after them herself, right? And she wouldn’t stop til they’re all safe. And I dunno ‘bout you, but I ain’t letting her do that alone.” He finished, and Kitty smiled at him with tearful determination.

“Agreed.” She said, turning to the rest of the team. Ororo nodded and Scott sighed heavily, only swayed when Jean placed a hand on his arm.

“Alright then… guess that’s our next mission.” Scott sighed, irate.

“Thank you. They’re our friends so we really– Joes?” Morgana’s head tilted to the side as suddenly, seemingly out of thin air, Joseph blinked to existence, Rowan’s wrist held firmly in his grasp. Logan’s heart stopped. This wasn’t the same mutant they’d saved from testing during the mission. His eyes were glazed over, subdued hatred burning in his pupils as Rowan turned to his friend.

“Just Five.” He rasped, white foam leaking from his cracked lips.

“Joes? What’s–”

“ROWAN!” Logan roared, lunging across your form to take hold of your brother, only his fingers grazed nothing but thin air. Whatever Naji had done to Joes, it was the same thing he’d done to Morgana that night. And Rowan all too often.

But he was gone. Your brother was gone. And now there was no debate about what you’d do when you woke.

He just hoped, that whatever Charles restored, would be enough to get your brother back too. For your sake.

#wolverine x reader #logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #james logan howlett #logan howlett #x men logan #x men wolverine #x men x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan smut #the wolverine #logan x reader smut #the wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you

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imaginespazzi · 5 months ago

Text

Part 7: Home

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to (us)

(In which with bittersweet feelings, a nostalgic writer, finally writes the end of the story)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 7.1K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my loves! I can't believe we've actually reached the end, who would have thought huh? I'm not sure if there will be an epilogue, mainly cause I don't know what I'd write but never say never. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and if I've done the end I pictured justice but I really hope y'all like it anyways. There's a fair amount of creative liberty taken with WNBA logistics but please just accept it for the plot. Per usual, did I edit? Yes. Are there grammar mistakes and typos anyways? Yes. As always, let me know what you liked and disliked. And finally, to all my lovelies who have liked, reblogged, commented, sent in an ask, dm-ed me or simply just silently read this fic, I just wanna say thank you guys so, so, much, y'all have made writing every word worth it and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it <3

August 2018

Paige swears, tonight, there are stars in the Minnesota night sky she’s never seen before in her life. The summer sky has darkened with nightfall, yet the shine of the moon and its companions make it still seem ever so bright. Or maybe, it’s just the girl lying next to Paige that makes tonight feel luminescent, sparkling with the promises of something not quite like friendship that Paige has never felt before. She’d spent the whole day with Azzi at the Minnesota State fair, trying to suppress these new butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken birth over their time in Latvia. Or well, maybe they’d been there from the start, but they’d really only started this dance of theirs, the one that makes Paige feel all tingly when Azzi smiles, over the course of this summer.

“Paige it’s cold, stop hogging the blanket,” Azzi chastises, breaking Paige from a trance, as she tugs on the pink and purple blanket covering the two of them, “I knew we should have brought two of them.”

“It’s barely on me” Paige argues for the sake of arguing but she shifts anyway to allow the younger girl to pull the blanket, so clearly meant for one person, a little more towards her, “besides, it’s about sharing body heat.”

“You’re not even warm enough to share body heat,” Azzi mocks as she makes a show of tracing a finger down Paige’s arm and everything in the blonde feels like it’s been lit on fire at the touch. And she wonders if Azzi feels it too, the electricity, the sparks of this could ruin me that scatter through her veins before finding themselves setting her heart ablaze. It’s too much and Paige shakes Azzi’s hand off with a little more force than she means too.

When Azzi sends her questioning look, she splutters through an excuse, “your hands are cold too. Can we just do the boring shit we’re here to do.”

"Stargazing is not boring,” Azzi says indignantly, opening the little stargazing booklet she’d brought with her, flicking through the pages looking for something specific.

To be honest, sitting still in an open field and squinting at the sky trying to figure out a distant constellation isn’t really Paige’s brand of entertainment. She’s a fidgety person by nature, constantly embroiled in the urge to be moving. But Azzi had brought it up the other day, with pleading eyes and a hopeful grin and well, sometimes it felt sinful to deny Azzi of anything she wants. And that’s how they’d ended up at a campsite, not too far from the State fair, lying on the grass, heads tilted towards each other, with a single blanket shielding them from the summer breeze.

“Okay,” Azzi says after a while, using her fingers to point out a pattern in the sky, “I think that one’s Cassiopeia.”

“If you say so,” Paige nods, not really sure what she’s supposed to be looking at.

“Paaaaige,” Azzi whines, “focus.”

“Dude I can barely see anything, the fuck am I supposed to focus o-”

Before Paige can finish her sentence, she feels herself being pulled by the younger girl, the side of her body fitting into the crook’s of Azzi’s like a perfect puzzle piece. She looks over at the brunette, and the protest dies on the tip of her tongue, as she realises just how close Azzi is to her now, all semblance of air leaving her lungs. Paige gulps, eyes tracing every inch of her best friend’s face, stopping of their own accord at Azzi’s lips, before guiltily flashing back to meet the younger girl’s eyes which are just as focused on Paige. And it feels like there’s no force in this world right now that could make either of them look away. Except maybe the force of friends don’t do this.

“Just focus,” Azzi breaks contact first, turning her face back at the stars, before gently grabbing hold of Paige’s hand so she can guide it in the pattern of the constellation. And Paige still doesn’t really see it, doesn’t even particularly care about seeing it, but if it gets Azzi to hold her hand, soft skin putting light pressure against her palm, she thinks she’ll try to see some random lines in the sky forever.

“It’s pretty.”

“You don’t see it do you?”

“Nope,” Paige’s grin widens when Azzi chuckles, shaking her head fondly. Something in her blooms, delighted at being the reason for that. And she’s always prided herself in being funny, she thinks of herself as a little bit of a comedian really, but she’s never wanted to make anyone laugh quite as much as she wants to make Azzi laugh.

“Well that’s enough stargazing for us then,” Azzi rolls her eyes, closing her little booklet and making a move to sit up but Paige is quicker, pulling the younger girl back down and interlocking their fingers. Her own overeagerness causes a tinge of embarrassment to race up her cheeks, and she hopes it’s dark enough that Azzi won’t see the pale pink blush taking over her face.

“It’s peaceful out here,” she says quietly, sounding shy even to her own ears and she can’t help but wonder when the hell that happened, “you wanna stay a little longer?”

“Yeah okay let’s stay longer,,” Azzi agrees and sometimes when Azzi speaks like that, her voice lyrically soft with a secret smile hidden in it, Paige wonders if maybe it would be okay to hope for, to feel something more because maybe, just maybe, Azzi feels it too.

“You know you should come to the state championship,” Paige says after a second of silence, trying to keep her voice nonchalant but she can hear the wishfulness bleeding into it anyways.

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that in March? That’s like months and months away.”

“Yeah but- well-” Paige shrugs, cheeks burning just a little bit, “you probably wanna book in advance cause like tickets and stuff you know?”

“You don’t even know if you’ll be in the state championship. There’s still a whole season to go.”

“Oh I know. I know we’re definitely gonna be there.” Paige smirks, cockiness back in full-fledged form.

“Then I’ll be there,” Azzi says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you better win though Bueckers.”

“Watch me,” and she’s jutting her chest out in arrogance sure, but really everything inside her is swelling with something else, a feeling she’s starting to understand a little too well, a feeling that terrifies her, a feeling she doesn’t think she’s quite ready to let herself feel yet, “it would be nice you know, to win a championship together at some point.”

“I don’t think my parents would be on board with moving to Minnesota.”

“I’m sure I could convince them,” Paige feels a little giddy at the thought, “but I meant more like college, like UConn.”

It’s a topic they’ve stumbled upon a couple of times, with each other, and with the other girls at Team USA. And as much as Paige would love for her other teammates to follow her to her dream school, she’s practical enough to know they might have other priorities. But the thing is that with the rest of the girls, it’s just something she’d like to happen but with Azzi, now that Paige has said it out loud, she’s beginning to realise how desperately she wants that, her and Azzi, on the same team, fighting the same battles and winning the same wars, together.

“Don’t think you can win a national championship without me Bueckers?” Azzi smirks, twisting her head towards Paige, eyebrows cocked in arrogance.

“Of course I can,” Paige’s face softens, the vulnerability that only ever seems to come out around her best friend seeping on to her features, “but I think it would be fun to win one with you. Someday.”

“Someday, “ Azzi whispers back, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze, and then her eyes widen at the sky, “holy shit is that a shooting star? Oh my god Paige look up, quick, it’s beautiful.”

In the dark of the night, a rare flicker of gold shoots across the obsidian Minnesota sky. Paige has never seen one before but it seems fitting really, that she’d see one tonight.

“We have to make a wish,” she whispers and Azzi, never one to really believe, rolls her eyes but she follows Paige’s lead, closing her eyes. And the thing is Paige could wish for a lot of things really, but she finds herself thinking of only one word that sums up all she could ever want: someday.

***

August 2026

They’ve been playing against each other for years now and yet the thrill of the face-off still hasn’t quite worn off. Back in the handful of games in high school, it had been quickfire friendly trash talk, two best friends going at it like the competitors they were. College had been drastically different, each game, each play, underlined with the tension of two people who still hadn’t quite figured it out. But Paige thinks her favourite version of them as opponents is definitely this one, the one where they might be on different teams in the WNBA, but off the court, they both know they’re on the same side, together.

Their relationship isn’t quite a secret; it would have been impossible to hide if after the kiss at the 2025 national championship. But they’d kept as quiet about it as possible, skillfully dodging media questions, wanting to shelter it from the prying eyes of the public. It makes playing each other on national television, just that little bit more entertaining, trying to keep things as cordial as possible. If Paige’s hands end up just a little too close to Azzi’s waist, lingering a little longer than necessary against the patch of skin she’d marked with a hickey earlier this morning, and it makes the younger girl shiver, then that’s just a tactic to win. And if Azzi breathes seductive thoughts of what she’d like to do after the game when guarding Paige, and it makes the blonde want to turn around and kiss the smirk off of her girlfriend’s lips, well that’s just another innovative defensive strategy.

“Be a good girl for me and move,” Paige whispers, the double entendre in her voice apparent, as she tries to dribble the ball past Azzi. There’s only a minute or so left in the last meeting of the regular season between Paige’s Lynx and Azzi’s Mystics -funny how that had worked out- and the score is painfully close, with the Mystics closing in on the Lynx’s two point-lead.

“Always a good girl for you P,” Azzi smirks, her voice the quietest it could possibly be, but Paige hears her next words like they’re on a loudspeaker in the area, “it’s why I’m wearing your favourite purple panties.”

It takes a second, a second where Paige’s eyes gloss over with lust, as her mind rushes back to the last time she’d seen, the last time she’d touched the silky undergarment, for the ball to be stolen from her hands. She’s a step too slow to recover and by that time Azzi’s already scored the easy lay-up to tie up the game, a mischievous grin adorning her normally stoic game face.

On the other end of the court, Napheesa draws a foul and Paige and Azzi end up next to each for free throws. Paige is seething, unsure if the heat curling up her spine is from the game or the girl standing next to her.

“Sorry baby, all’s fair in love and war right?” Azzi teases, pinky brushing against the blonde’s, “I’ll make it up to you later if you want.”

“You’re such a fucking menace,” Paige practically growls. She does want, in fact she’d like it right now if it was possible. Two years they’ve been together, longer if you count the inbetween, and still, every time Azzi lights a match, Paige feels herself burn just as brightly as the first time she’d felt that magnetic pull.

“Learnt from the best,” Azzi hums with a grin as Napheesa hits both free throws.

The rest of the game passes in a blur of frenzied shots and hurried fouls but the Lynx pull out an eventual, much-needed win, to better their chances of clinching a higher seed in the playoffs. After missing the playoffs in 2024, the Lynx, despite having relatively low odds, had secured the no.1 pick and there had never really been a doubt that they would pick Paige. She’d helped the team get back to the playoffs last season but they hadn’t made it out of the first round. A championship doesn’t seem quite possible yet, but Paige has her fingers crossed that they’d at least make it to a semi-final this time.

“The two of you are terrible at this,” Aaliyah’s the first person to hug Paige during the handshake line, “I thought you’d jump each other’s bones in the middle of the game today.”

“We’re not that bad,” Paige rolls her eyes at her former teammate. She high-fives a few more of the Mystics team until she gets to Azzi, who’s already smiling, despite the loss. The cameras are quick to crowd them, clearly wanting a more sensational picture than the one they’re likely to get. Still, despite the unwanted attention, Paige lets herself nestle into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“You owe me twice tonight,” she whispers into the younger girl’s ear, “one for the win and one for that bullshit you pulled on the court tonight.”

Azzi’s voice is breathless when she replies, “I can give you way more than two.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a promise.”

***

“With the new rules, after this season you’ll be a free agent, have you given any thought to that?”

Waiting for the Lynx’s turn in the media room, Paige hadn’t been paying much attention to the questions being asked to the Mystics players, her focus solely on how hot her girlfriend always looked post games. But the words ‘free agent’ pique her interest. The W had changed the rookie contract rules for first round draftees to two years and that meant both Paige and Azzi would be free agents after this year. But while it hadn’t reached the media quite yet, the Lynx were likely to use their core designation on Paige. Which meant the only one of them making any decision about next season would be Azzi. It was a subject the two of them were cautiously tip-toeing around, using the shield of distance to avoid talking about what it could mean for them.

“I’m focused on the season, this team and the rest of our games. I’m not really thinking about the future,” Azzi answers diplomatically.

“You’ve obviously got very strong ties to the DC area but you also went to UCLA, if the Sparks or maybe even the Valkyries, considering your connection to Steph Curry, were interested, and there have been rumours that they are, would you consider it?” the same reporter prods.

“Again, I’m not currently thinking about any of that,” to anyone else Azzi probably sounds neutral but Paige has studied the sheet music of Azzi’s voice to the point where she knows what’s hidden behind every note, behind every little indent. The tinge of irritation is masked by a smile, but the line of questioning is clearly unappreciated.

“And what about the Lynx?” the persistently oblivious reporter continues and this time Paige sucks in a breath, “you have some ties to that team don't you? Have you given some thought to maybe going there?”

Azzi’s eye twitches ever so slightly, “the Lynx just beat my team. The only thoughts I have right now are about how to beat them next time.”

That elicits a laugh from the media and finally the rather obtuse reporters seem to understand that he’s not going to be able to pry anything newsworthy from Azzi’s mouth. But even if he hasn’t achieved his desired effect, he’s succeeded in making Paige’s mind start running in circles. She hadn’t let herself think about it yet, the potential of Azzi joining the Lynx, the potential of playing with Azzi, the potential of finally just being with Azzi. Because facing the potential for all of that, facing all the things she wants means also facing the potential that maybe Azzi doesn’t want any of that.

***

The air in Paige’s living room is thick with a suffocating tension as she and Azzi sit on opposite ends of the couch. It reminds Paige a little bit of the before, a dreaded version of them she’d foolishly thought they grown out of, until something reminiscent of their past problems had reared its ugly head, and suddenly it feels a bit like she’s playing a losing game.

“Will you please stop that,” she bites out, referring to where Azzi’s foot is incessantly tapping on the wooden floors, “it’s giving me a headache.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, “is it my tapping or the alcohol giving you a headache Paige?”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” Paige says through gritted teeth and Azzi scoffs.

It’s a lie. After both teams were done with post game pressers, she, Azzi and a couple of the other girls had ended up at a local bar as they often did when the other team didn’t have to fly out til the next day. Paige had been tense the whole evening and trying to pretend not to be, especially when Azzi could see right through her façade, had only made the whole thing worse. She wasn’t one to drink too much, always happy just being sufficiently tipsy but then she’d gotten in her head too much. And when the first shot didn’t quite hit the way she needed it to, she’d kept on going, receiving worried looks from all the girls, until Azzi had finally stepped in. The ride back from the bar had been a sobering experience, one look at Azzi’s stoic face, giving away her irritation.

“That’s why you still reek of tequila?”

“How the fuck would you know? You haven’t come near me all night.”

“Don’t you dare try and turn this on me Paige. I tried to talk to you all night til you decided you wanted to act like freshman frat boy,” Azzi spits out, hurt and anger colliding in her voice, “we barely get to spend time together during the season and the one night in forever that we do, you pull this shit?”

They haven’t had an argument like this since they’ve been officially together, the kind of argument that has them balancing on a delicate tight rope, too afraid to take a step backwards in their relationship, and too prideful to take a step forward towards each other.

“I didn’t think you cared about spending time together during the season,” Paige accuses and there’s a sensible part of her, one that’s currently being held captive by the dangers of liquor, that knows it’s a ridiculous allegation.

Azzi stares at her, lips opening and closing in disbelief, “excuse me?”

“It’s pretty simple really Azzi. If you wanna spend the whole season together, the option is right fucking there, but I- I can’t even tell if you’re interested in taking it,” Paige is pacing now, teeth gnawing at her lips like they always do when she’s nervous.

“What- what are you even talking about?” Azzi asks, clearly confused.

“Free fucking agency. They asked you about it and you said you hadn’t thought about it at all. That’s really great to hear Az, really great to know you haven’t thought about how that could literally change our whole fucking life,” and even as the words waterfall out of her mouth, Paige knows she’s being unreasonable, but the mix of stress and alcohol churning in her stomach is just enough to keep her from taking the words back.

“I didn’t- that’s not even what I said. Jesus fucking christ Paige,” Azzi rubs her face, looking defeated.

“So you have thought about it then?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it, “ Azzi throws her hands up, “but I wasn’t gonna tell the media about all of that. But you- you seriously think I haven’t thought about what this means for us? You don’t- do you really think I’m not thinking about you- about us- while trying to make this decision?”

“Well you definitely didn’t think of me- of us- when you chose UCLA,” Paige’s eyes widen at her own words, knowing immediately that of all things she could have said, those were the worst ones, “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

In front of her, Azzi has gone deathly still, face completely devoid of emotion, until the first tear drops and all of Paige’s anger dissipates, the guilt clawing back with full force.

“I thought we were over that,” Azzi whispers, voice trembling, as she looks down at her hands, “but maybe we’ll never be over that.”

“We are,” Paige sinks to her knees in front of the younger girl, tugging Azzi’s hands into her own, “we are over it. I just- it just slipped out.”

Azzi’s quiet for a moment before she pulls her hands out of the blonde’s grip, sidestepping her as she stands up and Paige feels empty and cold and just a little bit broken.

“Are you leaving?” she whispers, peering up at Azzi through tear soaked eyelashes.

“I think I should, before anything else just slips out,” Paige flinches and Azzi’s expression softens, “I know- I know you didn’t mean it like that but I just- I need some space.”

Panic filters into Paige’s lungs, wrapping its dirty hands and squeezing so tight that she can barely breathe. She’s not sure when she’ll see Azzi again, now that there’s no more Lynx-Mystics games left in the regular season and it’s unlikely with their expected seedings that they’d meet at some point in the playoffs. It’s not like distance is new to them, but in the last two years, they’ve only ever said goodbye with an i love you attached to the end.

“Are you-,” Paige gasps for air, “are you leaving me?”

And it must be written all over Paige's face, just how petrified she is of this moment, because that's all it takes for Azzi to rush back into Paige’s space, hands cupping her cheeks, “oh baby of course not. I just- you’re still drunk and I’m upset and I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean. And I- need time to think about free agency and I think you- you need time to think about why that slipped out.”

Paige sighs, melting into Azzi’s touch as the knots in her stomach begin to untangle themselves, “you’re so logical.”

“Someone has to be,” a half-smile flitters across the younger girl’s face as she wipes at Paige’s tears, “we’ll figure this out okay? Just- just give me a little bit of time.”

Give me time. It’s a familiar line, so similar to what Azzi had asked for when she was making a decision about college and Paige would be lying if she said there isn’t a part of her that’s terrified fate is going to make them repeat the same mistakes. But part of growing up, Paige surmises, is letting time test you with the same trials and tribulations, and the next time, coming out of the other end on the right side.

And so she squeezes Azzi’s hand, matching the younger girl's half smile, with a soothing one of her own, “okay.”

***

November 2027

Paige doesn't know when she ended up in a love triangle with Azzi and the state of California but she wishes she was competing against an actual person. At least then she could throw a punch at the other guy. The W season is barely over and it seems like every front office has thrown themselves headfirst into convincing free agents to join their team. There’s a couple of teams interested in Azzi, but no one seems to be trying harder than the Los Angeles Sparks. Paige thinks whoever gave that city a name meaning “the angels” could not have been more wrong because really it’s a city full of devils constantly trying to steal her girl and no she’s not being dramatic.

They’re supposed to be leaving for thanksgiving dinner when Azzi’s phone rings and Paige can’t help but roll her eyes when Cameron Brink’s name flashes on the CallerID. The Sparks seemed to have put her as head of their recruiting Azzi campaign and Cam had been diligently doing her part.

“Azzi, Cam’s calling again,” Paige yells out to her girlfriend who’s still not quite finished getting ready.

“Can you pick it up?”

“Do I have to?”

“Paige,” Azzi whines and Paige sighs, hitting the green answering button.

“The amount of times you’ve called my girlfriend this week, Brink, should I be concerned?”

“Jealous I’m replacing you as her favourite blonde?” Cam’s voice always sounds like she’s smiling and Paige can’t help her own smile. Goddamn Cameron Brink for always being the sweetest soul on this planet.

“As if,” Paige scoffs, “it’s a holiday Cam, give the recruiting a rest.”

“Hey, I’m just calling to wish her a happy thanksgiving,” Cam defends.

“Mmmhmm where’s my thanksgiving wish?”

“Oh please, the two of you are basically a unit. Wishing her is wishing you,” Cam is quiet for a second before speaking again, “the Sparks would be a good fit for her Paige.”

Paige sucks in a sharp breath, “I’m not the one you’re gonna have to convince.”

“I know but you know your opinion means a lot to her. I know you want her in Minnesota and she'd be good there too and I- I know it isn’t my place to say any of this but just- just don’t discourage her from doing what’s best for her,” there’s not a hint of malice in Cam’s words, there never is, but they pierce at Paige’s skin anyways.

“Okay I’m ready, hand me the phone,” she’s saved from having to answer by Azzi waltzing into the living room and prying the phone from her hands.

Paige watches silently as Azzi talks animatedly with Cam, noticing the way her girlfriend’s smile widens while talking about certain spots in L.A. They’d subconsciously decided not to breach the subject of free agency after that night. Paige hadn’t interfered in any of the Lynx’s conversations with Azzi, deciding that this time, she’d stay out of it. It hadn’t been easy, every little bit of her itching to pitch why the Lynx were the perfect fit, why Paige was the perfect fit, but she was determined to give Azzi the space -the time- she’d wanted. This time she’d leave the choice solely up to Azzi and whatever she decided, Paige would find her happiness in that.

“Paige you ready to go,” Azzi waves a hand in front of Paige’s face, eyebrows raised in question when the older girl doesn’t make a move to get off the sofa, “hey, you good?”

“Cam says the Sparks would be a good fit,” Azzi stiffens at Paige’s words.

“Paige-”

“She’s right,” Paige concedes, fingers fidgeting as she averts Azzi’s gaze.

The younger girl blinks at her, clearly not having expected that, “she is?”

“Yeah. They need a shooting guard and you,” Paige smiles, reaching out to pull Azzi onto the couch with her, “you’re the best there is.”

“I wouldn’t go that far-”

“You are to me and it’s why I want you on the Lynx,” they both let out a breath with that. It’s not a secret of course but Paige hasn’t said it out loud before.

“Paige-”

“But it’s okay if you don't wanna be on the Lynx, if you wanna be on the Sparks or stay here with the Mystics or on any other team, if you think it’s the right move for you and for your career then that’s fine. It’s okay and you don’t- you don’t need my permission or anything of course but I just- whatever you decide, I’ll support it okay? What I said that night about UCLA- it wasn't- it wasn’t about you. I thought about it like you asked me to and it’s me. I was scared that I would fuck it up again and I’d lose you again-”

“You won’t,” Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I won’t let you.”

“I know. I know now that whatever happens, we’ll be okay. And so you can choose whatever team you want and it won’t- it won’t affect us, I promise. It won’t be like last time I swear. When you make your decision- I just- I don’t want you to make it for me or for us, cause you and me? Baby we’ll be just fine no matter what. Wherever you go and wherever I am, we’ll make it work, just as we have for the last two years,” Paige smirks, “besides I kinda enjoy kicking your ass.”

Azzi lets out a snort as she climbs onto Paige’s lap, thighs straddling her hips, “you really had to ruin it with that last part huh?”

“Was getting a little too sappy for me,” Paige mumbles and when she looks up, the emotions floating in Azzi’s eyes make Paige’s heart stutter. Because no one else gets this Azzi. This Azzi, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who lets her walls down, only for Paige’s eyes to see, only for Paige’s mind to memorise, only for Paige’s heart to keep.

“You mean it?” Azzi whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Paige’s face, touching lingering, “you’d be okay with anything?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige cups Azzi’s cheeks, brushing her lips against the younger girl’s, “whatever you choose, we’ll be fine. No matter what, I believe in us.”

***

January 2028

Paige groans when her phone rings at 2 a.m., fumbling around in the dark trying to answer it.

“I swear you better be dying if you’re calling me this late,” she grumbles into the phone, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Not quite,” Azzi says, and Paige’s eyebrows furrow at the amount of background noise she can hear behind her girlfriend.

“Dude where the hell are you at 3 in the morning?” she asks, now a little more awake as she sits up.

“I uh- I had a bit of a revelation,” and Paige can practically picture Azzi, wherever she might be, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lips.

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“I know. I know. Shit, I was supposed to do this in person. I had a whole plan but apparently being with you has made me impatient,” Azzi rambles.

“You’re still not making any sense,” but Paige’s heart is starting to beat erratically fast in anticipation.

“I had this realisation while I was in the gym today, it was really quiet and peaceful and I was fine you know- all day I was fine- just doing daily routines and then I just- I missed you. I miss you all the time do you know that?”

Paige does know, knows it far too well. Sometimes she thinks missing Azzi comes as naturally as breathing, an innate part of her day to day, a constant ache that she’s felt since she was 15.

“I miss you too,” she whispers.

“And I’ve learned to survive with that feeling, with missing you constantly. I mean it’s been more than 10 years at this point, how could I not? But what I realised today is that just because I can- just because I can live missing you- doesn’t mean I want to.”

“What are you saying Azzi?”

“DC is my childhood. My family is close to there, it’s part of where I grew up. It’ll always be my first home. And LA is where I found myself, my identity, and for a while it felt like home too.”

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, hands gripping the phone as tight as possible, wrapping that one syllable in emblems of give me forever.

“But my forever home isn’t in DC or LA and it’s not really in any other place either because- Jesus this might be the clichést thing I’ve ever said but-,” Azzi lets out a chuckle, “my home is wherever you are Paige. Wherever we’re together, that’s home.”

It feels a little bit like the end of a drought, the wetness on Paige’s cheeks like the rain that comes after. In the pitch black of her room, phone clutched closely to her ear with Azzi’s words floating through it like a swan song, Paige swears she’s never felt the world glow quite like this before.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Beating your ass has been fun as hell but I think we’d make a pretty good team Bueckers.”

And it’s a good thing Paige’s walls are soundproof because the delighted whoop she lets out practically vibrates around the room, all previous wisps of tiredness completely gone from her body. Azzi lets out a tearful laugh and Paige wishes they were together right now so she could tattoo this happiness onto both of their skins.

“The greatest team ever,” Paige affirms, “When are you com-”

“Attention passengers Delta Airlines Flight 1248 to Minneapolis will be boarding soon, please have your passport and ticket ready to check at the gate.”

“About that,” Azzi says shyly as Paige’s mouth drops open at the announcement, “I uh- I had a moment of spontaneity.”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my overthinking girlfriend?” Paige demands and Azzi giggles on the other end of line.

“I know it’s last minute, like really last minute and it was meant to be a surprise actually but I just- I really wanna see you. Is that okay?”

“Is that okay? Fuck Azzi, it’s all I want. Baby,” Paige breathes out softly, “come home.”

***

Time isn’t going nearly fast enough Paige thinks as she checks the arrivals board for the nth time. She’d tried for about four seconds to fall back asleep after hanging up the phone but her entire body had been buzzing with excitement. And so she’d gotten to the airport far earlier than necessary, and had maybe one too many cups of coffee if the jittery shake in her left hand is anything to go by.

She swears she feels her before she sees her. The air is electric as if the whole city, the whole state is waiting for Azzi too, for them to get their elusive forever. This moment feels like years in the making, and Paige is ready, ready to grasp it and make it hers. And then there’s Azzi, a clearly chosen-at-last minute wrinkled t-shirt, eyes drooping from the tiredness from not having slept all night, baby hairs in a frenzy across her forehead. To Paige, she’s still the prettiest girl in the entire universe.

Azzi’s eyes scan through the airport until they land on Paige, a dazzling smile illuminating her exhausted features. It’s the exact same smile that Paige had first elicited from her on the flight back from Argentina when she’d told Azzi she had a feeling they'd make great friends. It’s her Paige smile. The world is still for a second, everything melting away except them and the whispers of the journey it had taken them to get to this point. Every delicately placed step towards each other feels like an ode to every year they’d spent apart. And then Paige is running, not caring about everyone else around her. She jumps into Azzi’s arm, all 6 feet of her, tangling her legs around the younger girl's waist while her arms fasten around the neck. It forces Azzi to let go of her small carry-on, not caring that it falls to the floor with a thud, as her hands wrap around Paige’s back, steadying her girlfriend’s weight on top of her.

“You’re here,” Paige whispers, still a little in disbelief, “you’re really here.”

“I’ve been in Minny plenty of times before,” Azzi quips, adjusting her balance to properly hold the girl clinging to her like a koala.

“Shut up you know what I mean. You’re here forever this time.”

“Well I don’t know about forever- OW,” Azzi shrieks, as Paige pinches her arm, “do you want me to drop you woman?”

“You’re never allowed to leave.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening.”

“Good because it definitely is a threat,” Paige says before pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, “welcome home baby.”

***

October 2028

There are moments in life you remember forever. Sometimes you know they’re going to happen, sometimes they take you off guard and sometimes, it’s a combination of both. The Minnesota Lynx’s journey to the WNBA finals this season had always felt inevitable but the journey there, for a team that had unexpectedly fallen to the 4-seed despite pre-season clamour of them being number one, had been filled with bitter losses and moments of pure uncertainty. In a way, it perfectly mirrors Paige and Azzi’s relationship.

There’s 11 seconds separating the Lynx from their 5th championship trophy as they lead the Sky by two points. The crowd is up on their feet, ready for their cheering to turn into roars the minute the final buzzer rings. Paige has the ball in her hands on the inbound, Coach Reeves yelling at her from the bench what to do, as she makes eye contact with Azzi. There are no words, not even a gesture that the other team might be able to interpret, but they know exactly what play they’re about to run.

Truth be told it hadn’t been the seamless transition the two of them had expected when Azzi joined the Lynx. They’d been naive to think years of not playing together wouldn’t have affected the backcourt chemistry they’d had almost instantly once upon a time. The first few games, there had been an embarrassing disconnect between the two of them that had resulted in a nasty berating from Coach Reeves and a subsequent argument between the two of them that had lasted into the next morning. It had taken several more practices, and a couple more games of flailing around, for them to finally become the duo Paige had always known they would.

The game buzzer beeps and Paige throws the ball to Azzi who immediately returns it back to her, and then she’s running off screen after screen to get herself open on the wing, her sweet spot. Paige dribble penetrates into the paint, dragging an extra defender with her as they try to prevent her from getting a layup, the other defender blocks her from stepping back into a pull-up. Azzi’s defender has a momentary lapse in judgement, falling for the age-old trick of thinking she should help on defence, and that’s all it takes. A second for Paige to see Azzi open on the corner and pass it to her. A second for Azzi to shoot it.

The three-pointer falls through the next with a perfect swish. Dagger shot.

A small smile flits across Azzi’s face, the only emotion she’s shown all game and Paige can’t help the much larger grin that starts to flash on her own face. She can almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue, the two seconds left in the game are the only thing separating her from finally getting her version of the things we live for. Behind her she can hear Coach Reeves yelling at them to not foul, the 5-point lead enough of a cushion for them to withstand a last minute shot. But the Sky barely make it over midcourt and when Marina Mabrey heaves up a last second prayer, Paige doesn’t bother to see if it goes in as the buzzer sounds throughout Target Arena. The Minnesota crowd explodes in noise and colour as confetti falls from the sky.

Despite the chaos of everything, Paige has never seen Azzi clearer than in this moment. Since she’d met the girl, in all of Paige’s prayers about winning a championship, one thing had always been constant, that when they’d come true, they’d come true with Azzi by her side. And she had been. The high school state champion, the college national championship, Azzi had been there for both but on the bleachers, as a spectator and as Paige’s biggest fan. But this, winning a championship with Azzi as her teammate, as her ally, as her partner, means something more. This win is theirs.

“Do you remember when we saw that shooting star?” Azzi says softly, as they find their way into each other’s arms, not caring that there’s a thousand cameras capturing their every move. Paige pulls Azzi closer to her, every inch of her body pressing into the other girls until she’s not sure where she begins and where Azzi ends.

“That was years ago,” Paige remarks but she can see it clearly, two young girls underneath the stars, unaware of what their future would be but sure that the other would be in it. Those girls would probably laugh at how long it had taken Paige and Azzi to figure out what had seemed so simple back then.

“Yeah, yeah it was. Do you remember what you wished for?” Azzi asks, smiling when Paige nods, “do you wanna know what I wished for?”

“What did you wish for Az?”

“Before we saw the star you- you said it’d be nice to win a championship together someday. And so I-,” Azzi looks down shyly, “so I wished for someday. I wished for today.”

Paige stares at Azzi, drinking in the sincerity on the shooting guard’s face, silently letting herself absorb the meaning of Azzi’s words. And then she lets out a laugh because of course of course.

“I didn’t realise I’d said anything funny for you to be laughing at me,” Azzi scrunches her nose, looking slightly offended.

“God baby no,” Paige cups Azzi’s face, and she thinks this smile on her face will last forever as long as this is her reality, “I’m not laughing at you. I just- do you know what I wished for?”

Azzi shakes her head.

“This. The same exact thing you did. For someday.”

It’s not quite the shade of blue Paige had imagined them in, the Lynx blue its own shade, something inbetween UConn’s navy one and UCLA’s sky one. But it’s perfect nonetheless. And when Azzi crashes her lips against Paige’s, someday feels a lot like forever and always.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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