#I guess I know what I will do after therapy today

[evilrat-sabre]

I can't stress enough how funny a Joehills in distress is. This has been living rent free in my mind for days now. Mr Joe Hills is really clever just not that time lol <3

[carneflower13]

im so fucking tired and cranky and crabby today....

[pinkshadesofshame]

I should've just went to work today at least I wouldn't be paralyzed in bed unable to take my eyes off a screen bc I cant stop thinking everything feels like it's up in flames I'm on a literal deadline just dreading this year and even if I make it through this one with my personal fuck ups there's the entire world and more years to get trudge through and I just don't think I want to why does everything have to be so awful and hard the fun moments no longer outweigh anything . it just all sucks

[flowersforbucky]

where the lines overlap

logan howlett x reader (dofp!logan x mutant!reader)

word count: 8.7k

summary: no one gets under your skin quite as much as logan howlett - and he knows it, too. sex pollen trope.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, sex pollen so dub con, frenemies to lovers? they aren't enemies but logan and reader don't really get along, reader is a mutant with pyrokinesis, reader is afab, reader is described as being smaller than logan, no use of y/n, wet dream, fuck or die situation, oral, pet names (bub, princess), brief pain kink for logan, unprotected p in v, cream pie

author's note: takes place after the events of days of future past - so everyone's alive, charles is old af, and logan has a pretty streak of silver in his hair. not proofread super well so please ignore any errors.

There's certain things that you like to think about when you're pissed off. It’s a coping mechanism that you learned in therapy at the ripe age of eleven.

Go to your happy place or whatever.

For you, that's the mansion's courtyard after a fresh snowfall, and having the library all to yourself on a rainy day, and the comfort of your bedroom on one of the rare days that you aren’t teaching, or training, or on a mission.

At this point in your life, you’ve forgotten just about everything you were taught in that therapist's office. It's not like you had wanted to be there, but your parents had been worried and scared – and rightfully so. With the unexpected emergence of your pyrokinetic abilities came multiple accidental house fires born out of preteen angst.

So they did the only thing they knew to do at the time – stick you in therapy in hopes you would acquire some anger management techniques.

These days, you have a pretty good handle on your powers. With a lot of time and effort, you learned to control them – and not just control them, but yield them in a beneficial and productive way.

All of that progress comes dangerously close to going out the window anytime you're in close proximity to Logan Howlett.

Maybe all is an exaggeration – but no one else makes your fingertips burn hot with fire that threatens to break through the barrier of your skin quite like him. From his bossiness to his arrogance and attitude, you’ve clashed heads since the first day you met him.

Today is no different.

“Don’t use so much force.”

You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault.

You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him.

You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass.

A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

He looks at you with an amused expression. “See? Too much force.”

“I didn’t know that having giant forks for hands made you an expert on throwing knives.”

He exhales a breathy laugh, staring at you for several seconds before turning to pick the dagger up from the ground. He then proceeds to collect the rest of the knives that you had previously thrown from the body of the practice target.

In heavy silence, he struts over to you with the daggers in hand. He turns to face a wooden target board, finding the balance point of the knife before sending it flying through the air.

Bullseye.

“A long time ago, when I first joined this team, Charles made me practice a non-power related method of self-defense, too.” He pauses, lining the second dagger up with the practice dummy. To no surprise, it’s another perfect throw.

“Wanna guess what I chose?”

You snatch the remaining knife out of his hand.

“How to annoy someone by sneaking up on them and giving them unsolicited advice while they are minding their own business?”

You position your feet once again, holding the knife up in preparation to take aim. Your eyes dart back and forth between the blade and the target ahead of you. You hesitate, feeling nervous under his gaze.

Logan moves from standing beside you, to standing behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as his large figure looms over you. If he were to took a step forward, his chest would brush against your back.

He uses the tip of his boot to nudge your heel forward half an inch, adjusting your stance. He takes your right hand in his, and you have to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

A wave of annoyance washes over you that he’s able to fluster you so easily. It makes you as pissed at yourself as it does him. He’s barely touching you – his hand dwarfing yours is the only point of physical contact, but you’d think that he were pinning you up against a wall with his body.

You tell yourself the sudden light-headedness and increased heartrate is because of the newfound closeness, and nothing more. You’re used to being around Logan – the two of you live together and work together. His general presence is nothing new. But the intimacy of your current predicament is.

And maybe the fact that notes of tobacco and bourbon are infiltrating your senses doesn’t help.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, and then snaps both of your wrists forward. Surprisingly, your brain registers to release your grip just in time. When the tip of the blade impales the center of the target perfectly, he drops your hand.

But he doesn’t move from behind you.

“Much better. Now come back upstairs. Charles needs to see all of us in his office.”

••••••

You and Logan are the last people to enter Charles’ office.

Storm, Scott, Jean, Marie, and Bobby have all found places to sit throughout the small room. Logan chooses to lean against the door that clicks shut behind him, while you exhale in relief at the sight of an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, next to Marie.

“Ah, how nice of you two to join us,” Charles greets. “I was starting to think that Logan got lost on his way to retrieve you.”

You force out a laugh, earning a side-eye from Marie as Charles launches back into whatever he had been in the middle of before you two interrupted.

“Everything okay?” Marie murmurs to you. “You looked a little sick when you walked in.”

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug her off without looking at her. You keep your eyes on Charles. “Yeah, I'm just tired. Been training all morning.”

What were you supposed to tell her? That you were thankful to be wearing a tactical suit so that Logan couldn’t see all of the goosebumps that bloomed across your skin when he was practically breathing down your neck less than five minutes ago? Or that the walk back up to Charles’ office was filled with a loaded silence in place of your usual bickering and banter?

Marie might be one of your closest friends, and you trust her, but Logan is something of a fatherly figure to her. There’s no way you’re letting her hear those words come from your mouth.

You try your hardest to focus on all of the information that Charles throws at you. You’re all to leave on a mission early tomorrow morning. When he explains where you’re going and why, chills run down your spine.

Alberta, Canada – more specifically, Alkali Lake. All of your friends seem to tense up at the mere mention of the place.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the urge to sneak a glance to try to gauge Logan's reaction. You’ve never been to Alkali Lake before, and you’re far from excited about going – you can only imagine how he feels, given his history with the abandoned military base.

After no word of any activity surrounding the base for years, Charles had been made aware that the recent disappearance of a group of young adult humans had been traced back to Alkali Lake – to a modern day subsidiary of the group Weapon X.

The same group responsible for Logan’s skeleton being made from adamantium.

This, of course, is where all of you come in.

After a detailed rundown of the goals for tomorrow – the main one being safe extraction of the humans – Charles dismisses all of you to rest for the remainder of the day.

When everyone stands up, you finally risk glancing at Logan, but he’s already opening the door to Charles’ office and strutting away.

••••••

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs.

His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly.

You're putty in his hands.

“I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

You can only guess that the sounds he’s referring to are annoyed sighs and you telling him to shut the fuck up, but right now, you don't care enough to ask for any clarification.

“Yeah?” You yelp when his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. “Maybe if you spent less time pissing me off you’d get to—”

You're cut off by him plunging the tip of his index finger inside you. You writhe against him, your walls constricting around the digit.

“Less time pissing you off, more time letting you fuck my fingers and face. Got it.”

The slamming of a door somewhere outside of your room causes you to bolt upright in your bed.

You open your eyes to darkness except for the red glow of the numbers on your digital alarm clock that read 12:26 in the morning. Your heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of your chest, and your skin is clammy with a thin layer of sweat. You throw your covers away from you in an attempt to cool yourself off.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—”

You whisper the three words to yourself over and over again until your breathing resumes a normal pattern.

You’re alone, of course. In the comfort of your private room, where you had fallen asleep several hours ago. The difference between now and then is an uncomfortable pool of wetness between your legs, soaking your underwear.

You can’t even recall the last time you had such a vivid sex dream. It felt utterly lifelike – you reach down between your legs, trailing your fingers over the skin of your inner thighs where you had felt his beard tickle and tease you.

How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, when you’re having to work together to rescue humans from Alkali Lake? How are you supposed to come up with smart-ass remarks for his endless taunting and teasing when you’re going to be trying your hardest to not replay the images of his hazel eyes looking up at from between your thighs?

“Get a fucking grip,” you whisper hiss to yourself.

It’s Logan. The same Logan who acted like he was too good to say more than ten words to you the first half a year that you were with the team. The same Logan that tries to get you benched for the dumbest, smallest reasons he can think of. The same Logan that condescendingly calls you kid or princess every chance he gets because he knows it gets under your skin.

You need a glass of water. And some fresh air, and a cold shower—

You start by picking up the pair of sweatpants that you’d discarded before falling asleep a few hours ago. You step back into them, deciding to trek to the kitchen for some ice water. Your mouth feels as dry as cotton.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator.

As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away.

Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

You clear your throat to announce your presence, not quite trusting your voice to speak. He looks at you over his shoulder, a bottle of beer pressed to his lips.

You walk over to the cabinet beside him, keeping your eyes off of him entirely as you get a glass.

“What's got you awake at this hour?” He closes the fridge, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. The only light in the room now comes from the small, dim bulb above the sink.

If he only fucking knew, you think. If he only knew that the real reason you are out of bed right now is because you’d just woken up from an extremely graphic, jarring dream of you riding his face.

You fill the cup up with cold water from the kitchen sink and take a large swig before once again turning to face him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you answer with a vague gesture to his half-dressed form and beer bottle.

He takes in your appearance, too. His eyes trail from your exposed feet, to your baggy sweatpants, and up to your even baggier t-shirt before settling on your face. You feel particularly vulnerable under his gaze right now. You compare how you look to how he looks – with his stupid abs that look like God himself chiseled them from stone and his sweatpants that hang just a little too comfortably.

You sip on your water just to keep from biting your lip.

“Guess we were both thirsty,” he shrugs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Guess so,” you hum, and because you don’t want to fall into an awkward silence and it’s the only thing you can think to add, you say, “Nervous about the mission?”

His expression darkens and posture tenses at your question. “I am,” he admits. “And if you knew as much as I do about that place, you’d be nervous, too.”

You huff. Your grip tightens around the glass in your hand at the mere insinuation that he knows your feelings. “Who says that I’m not?”

“If you’re going, you’re not nervous enough.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, knowing damn well the direction that this conversation is headed. You’d heard it all from him before – anything to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—”

You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over.

“Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

“I’m very aware of how long you’ve been with this team, bub,” he says calmly, which makes you all the more heated.

“For three years you’ve spewed every bullshit reason you can think of to keep me on the sidelines,” you laugh. “I wish you’d fucking admit that you just don’t like me. It’d be a lot more respectable than acting like you’re worried about—”

Logan’s gaze drops to the glass in your hand, making you come to an abrupt pause. You follow his stare, realizing that you’ve managed to melt the glass where your fingertips grip the glass. Water begins to leak out from the holes, spilling onto your sweatpants and the floor below you.

There’s no visible flames emanating from your fingertips. Your anger hadn’t progressed to full on fire, just intense heat, but still. No one else makes you come as close to losing control as him.

No one. And he seems to know it, too. You can tell by the smug look on his face.

You dump what little liquid is left into the sink before chucking the distorted glass into the garbage.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his.

“Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

You rip your hand away from him, an exaggerated look of disgust on your face. Your recent dream pops into your head and you have to remind yourself that he’s not Jean or Charles – he can’t read your mind.

“You're lucky that you've got those handy healing powers,” you spit as you once again begin exiting the kitchen. “If I thought there was a chance of it actually shutting you up, I’d burn more than just Charles’ vintage glassware.”

You hear him say your name, but you’re already speed walking back to your room and playing your list of happy place thoughts on a loop in your head.

The soup that Storm makes when everyone at the school seems to get sick at the same time. One of your younger students picking you a flower. The smell of fresh laundry, the crisp pages of a new book.

Finally, your bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

You would have been better off just enduring the discomfort of a dry throat, you think. You don't know what's worse – not being able to sleep because you're rattled from a wet dream about him, or not being able to sleep because you've once again allowed him to get under your skin.

You crawl back under your covers, hoping that when you close your eyes, you don't see his face again.

••••••

Logan doesn’t make any more appearances in your dreams for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t stop him from being the first thing you think of when you open your eyes in the morning.

And as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, the only thing on your mind the entire flight from New York to Alberta.

From the tension that filled the air when he corrected your knife throwing technique yesterday morning to the warmth of his calloused hand when he grabbed you by the wrist in the kitchen last night, you're fighting a losing battle with no one but yourself.

As far as you can tell, he’s utterly unaffected. The fact that he chose to sit directly in front of you on the jet instead of any of the other empty seats says as much.

Not even ten minutes into the flight, you're staring at the tufts of his hair and his broad shoulders when you have to remind yourself that there's two telepaths occupying this jet with you. Though you trust both Charles and Jean to not read your mind without cause, the mere possibility of either one of them accidentally tuning into your thoughts and seeing a replay of your most recent dream or hearing you think about what it would be like to tug on those stupid fucking tufts of hair that resemble kitten ears is enough to mortify you.

You find yourself grateful that you brought a book and headphones with you to distract yourself for the duration of the trip.

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath.

“Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water.

It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

As much as he infuriates you, you still care about him. You wish you could say that you didn’t, but the fact that you feel the urge to reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze makes that pretty hard to deny.

That urge dissipates as quickly as it comes over you. The bitter chill of the mountain wind and your teammates voices pull you back to reality. You awkwardly fiddle with one of the daggers strapped to your thigh instead.

“Jean and Scott, the two of you take the west side of the building,” Charles instructs when the group nears the discreet entrance. “Bobby and Rogue, clear the east wing. Storm and I will be keeping watch outside to make sure that no one tries to escape with the humans.”

“What about us?” you ask with a slight nod towards Logan. The fact that neither of you had been given instructions yet leaves it to be assumed that you’ll be paired up together.

You and Logan working as a pair was nothing out of the ordinary, and although that typically comes with a lot of annoyance, right now you can’t help but feel a little relieved by it.

Even if you are still irritated at him for his behavior and choice of words in the kitchen last night and even if you do think of him between your thighs every time you look at him for more than five seconds, he’s still more familiar with this place than anyone else here.

And no matter how much he makes you want to tear your hair out, there's never a time that you feel unsafe when he's near.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble.

“No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

Logan snorts, earning curious glances from everyone other than you and Charles. He does get a nasty side-eye from you – a silent promise to deliver on last night’s threat to find something to burn other than vintage glassware.

Your teammates split up into their respective groups upon entering the base, leaving you to follow Logan's lead towards the lower levels.

It’s unsettling just how silent it is. The only sounds are that of yours and Logan's boots against the ground. You'd be able to hear a pin drop from across the building.

And it's cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones ache. You instinctively flex your fingers, focusing on the warmth that radiates from the tips.

As the two of you make your way through the dark, seemingly endless basement, checking each room for signs of life, you can't help but think of Logan being here under much different circumstances.

You don't know the full extent of his time here – even he only remembers bits and pieces. But you know enough to know that this can’t be easy for him.

The fact that he's being uncharacteristically quiet only reaffirms that. He makes none of his typical taunts and jabs, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

You find yourself damn near wishing he’d make some snide comment about how you’re walking too loudly and how being partnered up with you feels like babysitting duty – if he did, maybe then you wouldn’t feel this annoying, persistent worry over his mental well-being.

“Logan,” you begin quietly as the two of you approach a large set of hospital style double doors at the end of a corridor. “I know being here can't be easy for you. I'm sorry that you have to be.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, not meeting your eyes as he slowly pushes one of the doors open, peaking into the room before stepping inside and holding the door open for you.

“Just part of the job, bub,” he sighs. “I know what I signed up for.”

You enter, walking past him into the dark room. You shine your flashlight around the cramped space. Right away, you can tell that it’s vacant, as all of the other rooms you’ve checked have been. But it’s different – whereas most of the rooms have been completely empty, this one contains multiple twin sized beds. No frames, no pillows, just plain white sheets on each one.

“I know you do. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and he shines his own flashlight around the room from right behind you.

“It’s okay, princess,” he snorts. “I’m a big boy. You don’t gotta pretend to be worried about me.”

Princess. Your fingertips tingle as soon as the pet name leaves his lips.

“I’m not pretend—”

The sudden, loud clicking of a deadbolt echoes through the room, silencing you. You and Logan stare at each other for a brief moment, startled and confused, before he turns around and pushes on the double doors to no avail.

He slams the full weight of his body against the metal, but it doesn't budge.

“What the fuck,” he growls in between repeated strikes against the doors.

“Logan and I are locked in a room in the basement,” you say as you click on the communication device in your left ear. “The door automatically locked after we came inside. We can’t get it open—”

You’re met with white noise.

“My fucking comm isn’t working.” Panic begins to set in as you yank the device out of your ear to inspect it. There’s a small green light indicating that it is on, but for whatever reason, it isn’t getting signal.

“Scott? Storm? Can anyone hear us?” Logan says as he messes with his own communication device. “Nothing,” he grunts after a moment of silence.

“Professor? Jean? If either of you are listening, now would be a great time to poke around in our brains and let us know.”

Nothing indeed.

“Okay,” Logan says as he backs away from the double doors. “Blast them.”

“Blast them?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “They’re industrial metal doors. They’re like two feet thick. These walls are made out of concrete.” You bang your first against the rock solid wall for emphasis. “What the fuck do you think fire is—”

“I don’t hear you suggesting anything!”

“How about not setting the room we are trapped in on fire? Only one of us has regenerative—”

A loud hissing noise sounds from above, causing you and Logan to both point your flashlights up towards the ceiling. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Large vents make up well over fifty percent of the ceiling, releasing what appears to be a fog like substance. It quickly transforms the air above you into one large, milky looking cloud.

“Charles! Storm! Scott – we need help. Quickly, we need help. I don’t know what’s going—”

You continue to shout into the communication device while Logan alternates between punching the door with his fists and throwing the full weight of his body against the metal, but all of your efforts are futile. The doors don’t budge, and you hear nothing but static from the comm.

You frantically glance around the room, looking for another escape route. There’s no other doors, and no windows. You’re completely enclosed by the four concrete walls and the impenetrable metal doors.

“Hold your breath!” Logan shouts as the fog descends upon the two of you, but it’s too late. The sickeningly sweet smelling mist encompasses you, making it impossible to see anything other than the thick silver vapor. It infiltrates your nostrils, causing you to gag. You cough, desperately trying to clear your airway of the substance.

It burns – your throat, your nostrils, your eyes and skin. Anywhere that it comes in contact with you feels like pins and needles.

You’re vaguely aware that Logan is somewhere to your left, asking if you’re okay in-between coughs and gags of his own. You can’t catch your breath well enough to answer him.

His hand clasps around the top of your arm. Your vision goes fuzzy and you collapse into him, light-headed from the profuse coughing.

“I think it’s dissipating,” Logan whispers in a strained voice, still supporting you so that you don’t fall to the floor. You risk cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, and realize that he’s right. There’s still a veil of mist surrounding you, but it’s no longer so opaque that you can’t see even two inches in front of your face.

You take deep breaths, making no effort to step away from him as you attempt to regain control of your breathing. Your lungs feel like they are on fire and your throat feels like you haven’t had any water in days.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out as a croak.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. You nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

As soon as he steps away from you to see if the doors are still locked, the momentary relief that you felt when the fog began to dissipate is replaced with renewed terror. The room, which was previously dark except for the light from your flashlights, suddenly glows a deep red color from the ceiling that now emits crimson fluorescence.

You open your mouth to call out for Charles or Jean again, when a throbbing sensation radiates throughout your gut. You clutch your hands over your abdomen, gasping at the sudden and awkward feeling.

Logan turns his attention away from the doors and back to you as soon as he notices how you’re hunched over. You stumble over to the bed that's closest to you, the world blurring around you in shades of red.

“Something is wrong,” you gasp out. You know you're stating the obvious – something has been wrong since the moment that the doors locked behind you.

He's next to you in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed and looking up at you in concern. The ache in your lower belly seems to worsen with his close proximity. Your skin feels feverish, making you want to peel your tactical suit off of your body.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he demands. Other than obvious confusion and fear, he appears physically fine. You piece together that whatever that shit was, it’s effecting you much differently than it is him – undoubtedly due to his healing abilities.

You can't form a coherent sentence – all you can focus on is the way that the discomfort in your abdomen travels down to your groin, making you clench your thighs together. You have the inexplicable desire to reach out and pull him to you, as if having him as close as possible to you is the only solution for every uncomfortable thing happening to you.

“You gotta talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s going on,” he says when you don’t answer him. He puts a hand just above your knee and you have to hold back the whimper that threatens to break through your lips. He notices your pained expression and quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand in yours out of desperation to maintain some level of physical contact with him. “I – I don't know how to explain what’s happening. Just – I just need you to keep touching me. Please. Whatever that fog was, it’s making me feel like…”

You trail off, realizing that you must sound every bit as insane as you feel. You don’t know how to begin articulating what’s happening to you, because it makes no sense. When the silver mist first started to rain down from the ceiling, the last thing on your mind was Logan pinning you to one of these mattresses and railing you until you until you see stars. Now, you think that if he so much as stops holding your hand, you'll fucking die.

A look of clarity washes over Logan’s face – with a hint of something else that you can't quite pinpoint, too.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself.

“I’ve heard of this before. Didn’t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—”

“What is it?” you implore.

His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs –

“It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

You let his words sink in. It’s not something you’ve ever heard of, but you don’t doubt that what he’s saying is true. How could you, with the way that your pussy is throbbing at the mere sound of his voice? Under normal circumstances, you might not read too far into that. But right now? On a mission, locked in a creepy basement, unable to get in contact with your teammates?

“Weren’t able to fight it,” you repeat slowly. “You're saying there’s only one way out of this.”

He doesn’t answer – just looks at you with sympathy. With pity.

“No,” you shake your head. You yank your hand from his grasp and move back across the mattress as the gravity of the situation hits you. To distance yourself from him feels like ripping air out of your own lungs, but the alternative is borderline unthinkable.

“I can’t – won’t ask that of you,” you declare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that laughs at you, as if saying it’s cute that you think you have a choice. The pain and longing grow with each passing second, threatening to consume you from the inside out.

“You’re fine. It would be different if it was both of us. But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you're stuck here with me.”

“Have to? You make it sound like it would be a punishment for me,” he chuckles darkly. He finally rises from where he had been kneeling next to the bed. He stands beside the mattress, looming over you in the maroon lighting.

“Let’s not overcomplicate this, princess,” he murmurs. He grasps your face in his palm and tilts your head to look up at him. His touch is a balm – it feels like running a burn under a cold stream of water.

“I'm gonna take care of you, and then you can go right back to tolerating my existence.” He runs the calloused pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the sensation of the singular digit against your flesh.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?”

Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist.

He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink.

As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

You’re past the point of finding it in you to care about consequences. You’re no longer thinking about how you’ll be able to look him in the eye when this is over, or how you’ll pretend like everything is perfectly normal when the two of you are back on the jet with your teammates.

Maybe you can fight this drug, or maybe he’s right and there’s no point in trying. Either way, you’ve decided that you're going to have him before you leave this room.

You drop his hand, bringing yours to the zipper at the neckline of your tactical suit. You slowly tug it downwards, gauging his expression as he watches you expose your chest and stomach.

For once, he’s all out of smart remarks.

A part of you feels a sense of satisfaction and wants to continue taking your time with undressing yourself, just to keep him looking at you like this – but every fiber of your being is screaming at you for more.

You waste no more time with shoving the restrictive Kevlar material down your arms, leaving you in only your bra from the waist up. Logan unfreezes at the sight, crawling onto the bed on his knees. You maneuver yourself so that you’re laying flat against the mattress, pulling him down with you.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth.

His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

“Hey! I loved that bra—”

Your complaint dies in your throat when he slates his lips over yours.

There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way that he kisses you. He slips his tongue past your lips, moving his lips with fervency and urgency – like he needs this as badly as you do.

You buck your hips up into him, desperate for any amount of friction. He grinds down against you, his erection evident even through the thick material of both of your tactical suits.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss to unzip your suit the rest of the way down. He peels it down your thighs, only stopping to discard your boots. When you’re left in only your underwear, he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So, what exactly was I doing in your dream to have you saying my name like that, huh?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties.

You roll your eyes, your patience growing thinner as the ache in your belly grows stronger. He can tease you about that all he wants when you’re back in the safety of the mansion, when you’re no longer under the influence of potentially life threatening chemicals and capable of thinking of a proper comeback.

“Shut up and eat me out.”

His smirk only grows, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He tugs your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He lowers himself onto his stomach, still fully dressed. Under less dire circumstances, you would’ve been eager to get him out of his clothes, too – but right now, your highest priority is feeling his mouth on you.

No wet dream could have prepared you for how euphoric it actually feels for his teeth to nip at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, or the way that his tongue draws lazy circles at your hole before his lips lock around your clit.

You writhe against him, chasing the release that you’ve been desperate for since the second the vapor first came in contact with your skin. He’s more than generous, expertly nursing at your swollen bud as he eases a slender finger inside your cunt.

One finger – that’s all it takes to feel your climax building, the coil in your lower belly tightening. You feel your walls pulse around the digit as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even try to hold back your cries and praises of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

When he sits back, his lips and beard glisten with your slick in the red glow that encases you both. You push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the zipper of his suit, antsy to shed his clothing now that your physical discomfort had been quelled – at least for the time being.

He helps you, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his undershirt over his head. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but never shirtless for you. You want to dig your nails into the planes of his chest, and run your tongue along the protruding vein that disappears beyond the waistline of his pants –

You undo his belt buckle and pop open the button of his pants before hastily yanking both his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs free, bobbing inches before your face. You start to adjust your position on the bed – to get on your knees and take him in your mouth – when a low chuckle causes you to pause and look up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, earning a confused pout from you.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows.

“S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.”

You aren’t going to argue with that.

You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—”

He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

He fucks you similarly to how he kisses you – like this is saving him as much as it is you. It's rough, and fast, and messy – and you dread the moment that it’s over.

No one has ever filled you as completely and perfectly as him. You don’t think anyone else ever will, again.

Each drag of his cock along your walls has you clenching around him, each time his head rams against your cervix you can’t help but cry his name.

He snakes his hand in between you, reaching down to where his body collides with yours. His thumb massages over your sensitive clit.

You rake your nails down his back and he hisses in approval, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace.

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess,” he grunts before kissing you again.

You don't have time to overthink the sentiment before your second orgasm is washing over you. Logan cums as soon as he feels your pussy pulsating around him, fucking you until he's spilled every last drop of his warm seed deep inside you. When you're both finished, he stills inside you and rests his sweat-slicked forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

“You think it worked?” he grunts.

As if on cue, you hear the deadbolt unlock from the other side of the room. A second later, Storm’s voice sounds from your communication device that had fallen to the floor at some point.

“I don't feel like there’s a ticking time bomb inside my vagina anymore. So, I’d say yeah, it worked.”

He huffs a laugh, and then pulls out of you with a sigh.

“Logan,” you say, stopping him before he can pull away from you entirely. He stares down at you, waiting for you to continue.

You aren’t even sure what to say. Truthfully, you just weren’t ready for the moment to end and for things to go back to normal between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you spit out after a moment of loaded silence. “For… helping me,” you finish lamely.

“Don’t thank me, bub,” he chuckles. “It’s far from the worst thing that's happened to me in this place.”

••••••

You sleep the entire flight back to New York.

And as soon as you've showered and your head hits the pillow after returning home to the mansion, you sleep for another ten hours. Every time you wake up and think that you're finally well-rested, your body says otherwise and you're asleep again within minutes.

You wish you could say it’s a dreamless sleep, but that would be a lie. You see Logan’s face every time you close your eyes.

But it's different than the last dream you had of him. It isn’t images of his head between your thighs or his fingers slipping in and out of you.

It’s just.. him. His presence. The lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the light flavor of tobacco and menthol.

And the echo of the words he spoke as he teased you with the head of his cock and made you cum around his length.

“Don’t you worry, though. If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I’ll let you.”

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess.”

When you wake, the ache between your thighs for him remains, despite the fact that the effects of the drugs had long since faded.

You know you shouldn’t read too far into words spoken while the two of you were locked in that room. But you can’t help but keep thinking that he wasn’t under the influence of chemical subjugation. Which leaves you questioning if he meant the things he said, or if he was just trying to lighten a scary, impossible situation for both of you.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

When you finally gather the courage the knock on his door, the sun has set and everyone has retired to their bedrooms for the evening.

You almost dash back into your own room during the few seconds that it takes him to open his door. He wears sweatpants, a plain black t-shirt, and a surprised expression.

“Hey, bub,” he greets you apprehensively. You don't normally make a habit of stopping by his room for late night chats. “Was starting to worry that you’d fallen into a coma.”

He opens his door wider, motioning with his head for you to come inside.

“Felt like it,” you give a small laugh. “Whatever was in that shit wore me out.” You take a seat on the edge of his bed, nervously wringing your hands together.

“You feeling better now?” he asks as he leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes trail over the large muscles of his chest and shoulders. The memory of his body caging you to the twin sized mattress in the basement of the bunker flashes through your mind.

You nod, hoping that it’s convincing.

“All things considered,” you shrug. “I just wanted to check in with you. Has Charles… said anything?”

What you're actually trying to ask is if Charles interrogated him about where the two of you were during the mission, why no one was able to contact either of you, and why you have been so exhausted that you've done nothing but sleep for the last day, but you trust that he knows what you mean.

“He hasn’t said anything, but..” he trails off, eyes darting around the room to avoid your gaze. “It’s Charles. Safe to assume he knows and is just being decent by not saying anything.”

“Right,” you murmur.

If he doesn’t already know, it's only a matter of time before you slip up and imagine the feeling of his lips on yours or the sounds of his moans in the middle of a mission debriefing.

“And the humans..? They’re all okay?”

“They are,” he assures you with a soft smile. “They’re all receiving medical attention, and most have been reunited with their loved ones.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “No thanks to us, I guess.”

“No,” he laughs. “I suppose not.”

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

“But everyone’s okay. They’re safe. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He’s close enough that you can practically feel the heat from his body. You risk looking at his face, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “You’re right. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in with—”

You start to stand up, when he cups your jaw in his hand and pulls your face to his. He’s hesitant in a way that he wasn’t yesterday – he gives you the opportunity to pull away before he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip, as if asking for permission.

When you don’t give any kind of indication that you want him to stop, he pulls you flush against him and slips his tongue past your lips. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, twining your fingers through his hair.

He takes his time with you. Whereas yesterday’s kisses were filled with urgency and desperation, todays is tender and sensual. Now, you’re allowed the luxury of taking your time.

He lays down against the mattress, pulling you with him. You straddle his stomach, your lips never once breaking contact. His hands grip the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat through your pajama pants.

You grind against the hard planes of his abdomen, earning a throaty growl from him.

He breaks away, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath.

“What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?”

“No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—”

“What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest.

“I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more.

“I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

oooops i accidentally wrote another fic where logan overhears something that he wasn't supposed to 😅🫠 did not originally plan for that to happen hahaha

check out some of my other logan fics -

by the end of the night

dog tags drabble

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ BEACHED! (OP81)

pairing: oscar piastri x f!reader

summary: after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral

warnings: cheesy humour, chaos

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 98,002 others

yoursername shout out to australia, especially to the random dude in orange who saved my life from prematurely ending (note: waves in australia are brutal stay away if you can't swim)

view all comments

yourbsf NO FR SHOUT OUT TO KING I WAS TOO BUSY LAUGJING AND TAKING PHOTOS

yoursername I NEARLY DIED Y/B/F

yourbsf i was too busy giggling! your dream boy and first time he's seeing you is nearly drowning

friend1 Y/N DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS (6)

yoursername an australian?

user IS THAT OSCAR???

user oscar in papaya even on the beach… i fear he has no other clothes

user WHAT IS GOING ON

user NOT ME SEEING OSCAR TODAY AFTER HE SAVED A RANDOM GIRL FROM DROWNING?!?!

yoursername who tf is oscar

oscarpiastri hi! random dude in orange here

yourusername UM.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ twitter reacts

ੈ✩‧₊˚ dms with oscar

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted stories

[captions:

1. treated the tour guide to lunch :)

2. note: don’t let an f1 driver drive the golf cart if you value your life. moments before i nearly died (again)]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by oscarpiastri and 76,408 others

yourusername live evidence of the moment my tour guide turned on me

view all comments

user UHHHH

user oh so now they’re hanging out… i smell love at first sight

user NOT HIM DIVE BOMBING YOU????

oscarpiastri HEY i saved you again as well🙄

yourusername AFTER I SWALLOWED LIKE A GALLON OF WATER

friend1 @/yourbsf where were you during this murder attempt

yourbsf honey they don’t even know i’m here

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 224,517 others

oscarpiastri best way to get used to the aussie waves is to just go for it☀️

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user okay when will an f1 driver save ME from drowning and fall in love (and then try to drown me on two other occasions)

user hahaha i think they’re just friends

user GIRL ^ look at what he just posted dedicated to her and tell me he’s not already obsessed

yourusername please stop trying to end my life i have a child at home

user UM

oscarpiastri a dog. she has a dog.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by oscarpiastri and 103,228 others

yourusername australia i am in love with your food, your weather, and certainly your people. i can’t wait to come back one day🤍

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user ‘and certainly your people’ 🥹🥹🥹

user i knew she was only on holiday but why am i legitimately sad she’s leaving?

user why am i crying for people i don’t know

user is the shirtless man in the bg of the third oscar😳

oscarpiastri don’t be a stranger🧡

ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with oscar (1&2) and your best friend

ੈ✩‧₊˚ your username just posted a photo

liked by 65,087 people

yourusername puppy therapy

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user no oscar in the likes again :(

user he’s so fluffy

user my heart aches so bad i want her back with oscar

user no fr i’m hoping that they can meet up when he’s travelling again :(

yourbsf coming over for a cuddle (with you and charlie pup)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted

replies…

user why do i feel like this is about y/n…

user i hope they still talk :(

user with the way they’ve been posting i don’t think they do :(

user sending you love oscar. you’ll smash next season🧡

user something definitely happened

user im guessing just summer romance that fizzled out now they’re both busy :(

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 200,091 others

mclaren pre-season testing underway✅

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user did anyone see the interview he did on f1’s page?

user no what happened?

user they asked him about his winter break, and his smile faded so fast :/ then he just said he did a bit of exploring and moved the conversation on so fast

user god they. really fell for each other huh

user mclaren you have an opportunity to do the best thing. invite y/n to one of your races and reunite them please

ੈ✩‧₊˚ an email from mclaren

ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with your best friend

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted a photo

liked by 247,996 people

mclaren a special home race for oscar with even more special guests🇦🇺 #OP81

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user IS THAT… IS THAT CHARLIE PUP. IS THAT Y/N.

user DID MCLAREN TAKE OUR ADVICE

user IS IT FINALLY HAPPENING ARE MY LOVES REUNITING?

user IM HERE RN AND SHES DEFINITELY IN THE PADDOCK

user FOR REAL? HAS OSCAR SEEN HER?

user NOT YET BECAUSE HE’S BEEN IN PRACTICE SESSIONS BUT THEY FINISH SOON

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by oscarpiastri and 123,008 others

yourusername who said fairytales aren’t real

view all comments

user OH MY GOD ITS OFFICIAL

user i would like to thank mclaren

user why am i crying. i don’t know these people

oscarpiastri and in all 100 versions of the story, i’d always choose you

ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 247,721 others

oscarpiastri i guess i was the real race winner after all

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user THE CAPTION IM SOBBING

user can’t believe y/n went from nearly drowning to dating the internet’s boyfriend

yourusername can’t wait to have my life threatened by you for years to come

oscarpiastri okay nearly backing over you was an ACCIDENT

mclaren you’re welcome😉

landonorris when is it my turn

mclaren challenge accepted…

landonorris NO NO NO I TAKE IT BACK

————

a/n: HIHIHI i hope this lived up to expectations omg. the snippet for this went crazy but i don’t know if this is good EEK

huge thank you to EVERYONE for all the love in my inbox and comments recently, i’ve had so much fun writing these smaus so it’s been great to see everyone’s thoughts🤍

this will most likely be my last one shot posted before christmas with not funny (didn’t laugh) being my first post afterwards, so i want to say a huge merry christmas to all who celebrate!!

and finally. thank you for 800 followers!!! merci du fond du coeur. ça représente beaucoup pour moi🤍🤍🤍

- giselle / zellie / gigi / elle / gi i havE SO MANY NAMES

taglist (found here): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings @treehouse-mouse @iloveyou3000morgan @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers

[demonictacobeard]

Adam, coming out of his room for the first time:……Alright what the fuck do you guys even do here? Therapy, or some shit

Lucifer who had been waiting for him by the door: Charlie has activities usually, and is more then willing to talk to residents about their feelings and how they ended up in hell so that’s like therapy. I’m surprised you know about that, has heaven finally implemented it?

Adam, grumbling: No Heaven doesn’t fucking have therapy, but for the last ten years the newer winners have been asking why and the older angels had to find out what the fuck it is

Lucifer, humming: I do have to wonder how all the therapists up there don’t fall from utter frustration

Charlie, watching them come down the stairs excitedly: Hi Dad! Hi Adam! I’m so excited you came down. How are you feeling today, do you think you might be up for an activity? Or ooh, I never got to show you around the whole hotel just to your room. Whatever you feel like! Adam, stepping back: I knew she was excited during the meeting but Is she always this fucking cheery? It’s like Emily has a long lost twin from Hell

Angel Dust, from the bar: It’s the new resident joy, you’ll get used to it lambchop!

Husk, snorting: You act like you don’t adore that girl

Angel, pointing at him with three pointer fingers: You, shut up

Lucifer, beaming with pride: She’s very passionate about her work, always has been

Adam, groaning as Charlie looks at him with glimmering eyes: Dear fucking god, shit alright, fine I’ll take the tour

Vaggie, walking up to them with her spear: Good, because todays activity is Alastor’s idea and I don’t trust him not to ‘accidentally’ scar you emotionally instead

Charlie, gasping: Vaggie! Come on, Alastor wouldn’t do that

Lucifer and Vaggie, deadpan: Yes he would

Adam, crossing his arms: I don’t know the fucker, I just beat his ass, but yes the shit he would. Do you see that smile he has going on all the time? I haven’t seen one so fake since Michael’s

Lucifer, gaging: Hech Mike

Adam, nodding: Fucking Mike

Vaggie, vaguely remembering the angel: Do you mean….the Mike who was your bosses boss, the one who came around and inspected the exterminator’s once every ten years. That Mike?

Adam: That’s the bitch, Vag

Vaggie, her cheek twitching in anger: The ARCHANGEL MICHAEL?

Adam: Adding his title doesn’t unmake him a bitch

Lucifer, laughing: Nothing can

Charlie, smacking her head: Awful uncle Mike! Dad told me about him, don’t worry Adam Alastor is nothing like him. The smile is just….a tool for him? It’s harmless

Adam, rolling his eyes: The bartender just looked at you like you lied to gods face and then fucking spat on it, but whatever. I’ll do the activities and shit, later, but only ones you’re in charge of- why does your face look like that?

Charlie singing to Vaggie, after grabbing a confused Adam’s elbow and happily dragging him on the tour: He trusts meeeee!

Adam, flushing: ONLY MORE THEN THAT FUCKING DEER!

Lucifer, following them: Thats still a little, you know

Angel, laughing at Alastor when he walked in ten minutes later: Hey Alastor, guess what sheep boy trusts the devil and the devil’s daughter more then you. How’s that make you feel?

Alastor, his smile becoming more genuine: Positively ‘devastated’

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I'm having a bit of a downtime. I feel so conscious about my appearance. May I have Quinn reassuring me that I look good?

My love, I'm sure you're absolutely stunning. Chin up, buttercup! 🩷

Quinn hadn't participated in practice today. While he caught up on some rest, you had decided to go into the city for a little retail therapy of your own. Only it hadn't quite gone the way you had hoped. Everywhere you looked, there was a girl you felt was prettier than you, looking at something you had been interested in for yourself. It was easy to look at her, then at yourself, and convince yourself that you couldn't wear it near as good as she could. Self-sabotage and insecurity were bullying you into a early shopping trip.

It didn't matter what you did, they were all beautiful while you felt like trash. What did Quinn see in you, you wondered on the drive back to his apartment. He could have his pick of any Instagram model he wanted, so why had he chosen you? You would beat yourself up the entire time, resigning to tears after parking his car.

You had returned empty-handed.

"What are you doing back so early?" Quinn asked, seeing you walk through the door unexpectedly. He had been in the kitchen making himself some lunch, and had he known you were headed back, would have made you something as well.

"I wasn't feeling it." Your eyes were still red as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror by the door. Quinn was bound to notice soon enough. "I think I've got a migraine starting."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, babe. Do you have anything you can take?"

"Yeah."

He was genuinely being helpful, but you had blown him off and shuffled past the kitchen towards the bedroom. As he watched you go, your eyes down to avoid making eye contact, he knew there was more to it than the headache excuse. He'd let you go for now, not wanting to push you too much that you just shut down completely.

In the bedroom, you had gotten under the covers, hugging Quinn's pillow like you did when he was away on the road. You didn't want to cry anymore, but you had hurt your feelings so badly that there were no good thoughts left to give you even a drop of confidence in anything.

"Sweetheart?" Quinn asked, darkening the doorway some time later. You had almost drifted off to a nap when he called out to you, and could have faked being asleep, but you weren't trying to be mean to him.

"Yeah?" You mumbled into the pillow.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure."

You could hear him sigh from across the room and soon the feeling of him climbing in to bed with you would finally make you give him your full attention. He had laid his head against the pillow of his you were clutching. His pretty eyes waiting to catch sight of yours desperately.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked softly, his hand getting lost amongst your hair.

"Bad day."

"You seemed happy when you left." His brows pulled in slightly, trying to guess what had triggered the bad mood. "Did something happen while you were out?"

You bit your lip, pulling your eyes from his face. Why did he have to be so good at figuring out what was bothering you. "Just..."

Patiently, Quinn looked at you, his fingers giving you the gentlest scalp massage while he kept his hand buried deep in your hair.

"I just didn't feel like being shopping, that's all."

"Y|N, why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because it's a stupid reason," you choked out, eyes flicking back to Quinn's in haste.

His gaze softened, "Nothing is a stupid reason if it makes you feel like this, but I won't make you tell me. I just want to know you're alright."

"Why are you attracted to me?"

Quinn's expression twisted slightly. That was about the last question he would have dreamed you'd ask him. "What do you mean? In what way?"

"Why me over some model or something?"

He'd raise his head, propping himself up with his right arm. "I wasn't attracted to you because of your looks, sweetheart. That's just an added bonus. Do I come off that petty?"

"No, you don't. I just-- it's hard to not judge myself against all the other girls that could have my spot. I told you it was a stupid reason."

There was deep concern in Quinn's expression. There were few things he hated more than when you got down on yourself.

"As cliche as it might sound, looks eventually fade and no longer matter. What makes you, you, is your personality, baby. It's what shines through any amount of makeup or outfit. You can't fake a personality, not a real one. You know, as good as I do, that there are plenty of girls faking all of that just to get with any of us. They can't keep up the charade, and away they go, and another takes their place. Do you know how refreshing it was to meet you? How you genuinely smiled? That little snort you let out when you laughed at yourself for being nervous asking for that autograph? Do you remember how bad I blushed? I could hardly sign that jersey. I thought I was going to have to replace it because my signature looked like a fake."

You laughed softly remembering that day. He had been a little bit of a bumbling mess but it was so cute.

"You kept popping up in my head the whole rest of the day. Your eyes, your smile, hell, even that perfume you had been wearing. Drove me crazy all day. I see beautiful women everyday, but not a one of them are waiting for me back home like you are. I don't picture any of them waiting for me, wearing one of my t-shirts like you do. Each time I hear your voice when I'm away, I melt, because I get to hear it every--single--day."

You had been chewing on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay and Quinn had noticed. The hand that had been lost in your hair moved to hold your face, and his thumb would coax your lip from between your teeth.

"You're the only person I have eyes for -- the others are just people. You're my baby, and I love you. They don't mean anything to me. You have my heart."

"Quinny~" you whispered, knowing everything he said was his raw, unfiltered truths.

"I mean it, all of it. You might think the other girls are prettier than you, but I don't. Not for a second. You're the only one I want."

You didn't know what to say. His ability to melt away any bad mood you were dealing with, soothe any hurt feeling you had, and reassure you through it all had been a natural talent. It was times like these that you didn't feel like you deserved him, but you'd never tell him that. You knew already that he hated when you put yourself down and when you thought you should have less. Instead, you'd try to be thankful for him taking the time to explain his reasonings to you.

"I'll reassure you more, if you want me to. I just need to know. I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better, just to keep stuff like this from happening. I just don't want you to shut me out, okay?"

You'd give him a nod. "I'm sorry to be this way."

Quinn smiled, "It's alright. Do you think I don't wonder why you put up with me half the time?"

"But I love you!"

"Exactly! Because I know you love me -- that you truly love me for me and not the other stuff-- I don't have to worry about anything else; I don't let the other stuff rule me. Does that makes sense?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"And before you say it, you don't need to be sorry. Things happen, and sometimes we just need a little more to see what we've been overlooking."

The air went out of you like a balloon. Quinn's ways with words left you speechless more times than you thought he realised.

"If it would make you feel better, I'll take you out sometime next week and let you know how beautiful I think you'd look in anything you try on. Anything you like, it's yours. No limit."

"Quinn~"

"I mean it. If it makes you smile, I want you to have it."

"You make me smile."

He laughed softly, "You have me already, silly."

You'd roll over on your back as he climbed on top of you, lips hovering just above each other's. "Unless you're wanting something more. Then I can give you that, too."

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 4

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"It’s hard to save people from themselves. But if they’re willing to try, it’s worth the risk.”

- Paperweight by Meg Haston

A/N : this part talks about mental health, i don't know if its on triggering level but it was important for me to let yall know.

Got inspired by my trip to the ER today because of anxiety attack that left me feeling like i was literally dying. Im okay, conveniently had a therapy session as well afterwards so had a pretty rough day- but pushing trough it 🤍

I love you guys hope you will like this one x

1 • 2 • 3 • 5

When Aubrey stormed into the ER, she wasn’t sure what she was more furious about: the fact that her girlfriend hadn’t told her she was there or the casually infuriating way she explained it when she finally did.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” her girlfriend had said with a weak shrug, as if chest pain and difficulty breathing were minor inconveniences she could brush off.

“Didn’t want to bother me?” Aubrey had echoed, disbelief flaring in her voice.

The younger woman, seated in one of those awful plastic chairs, simply nodded, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. “It’s not the first time,” she added lightly.

That had nearly sent Aubrey over the edge, but then her anger had crumbled the moment she took in her girlfriend’s slumped posture, the way her hands trembled slightly in her lap. The fight in her drained away, replaced by a deep, aching worry.

Without a word, Aubrey knelt in front of her and wrapped her arms around her tightly. Her girlfriend stiffened for a moment before her shoulders sagged, and tears, born of frustration and weariness, spilled from her tired brown eyes.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Aubrey murmured against her temple, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” came the hoarse reply.

“What did the doctor say?” Aubrey asked after a beat.

“Nothing yet. It’s been two hours since they checked me, so I guess that’s a good sign,” her girlfriend said, trying for humor, but the weak smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Aubrey frowned and brushed a stray strand of hair from her girlfriend’s face. “What made you come in today?”

Her girlfriend hesitated, looking down at her hands. “A coworker noticed I was struggling and told my supervisor. They basically forced me to come.”

Aubrey’s heart clenched at the thought of her being too stubborn—or scared—to seek help on her own. “I’m sorry that happened, baby.”

“It’s not your fault,” her girlfriend said softly, shaking her head.

Aubrey pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Still. I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aubrey sighed, her thumb tracing comforting circles over her girlfriend’s hand. “I’m going to talk to the nurse and see what’s going on.”

Her girlfriend grabbed her wrist, her grip surprisingly firm. “Please don’t make a scene. They’re doing their best.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Aubrey said with a small smile. “But I’m not just going to sit here while you suffer.”

She stood and approached the front desk, her patience already worn thin. “Excuse me,” she said, keeping her tone calm but firm. “My girlfriend’s been waiting for two hours with chest pain and trouble breathing. Is there any way to get an update?”

The nurse didn’t even glance up. “It takes time,” she said dismissively.

“I understand that,” Aubrey replied, clenching her jaw. “But is there any way to know how much time?”

Before the nurse could respond, a doctor appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand. “Y/N?” she called out.

Relief washed over Aubrey as she hurried back to her girlfriend. “Come on,” she said gently, helping her to her feet.

They followed the doctor into an exam room, and Aubrey stayed close, her hand never leaving her girlfriend’s.

“After running several tests, we didn’t find anything concerning,” the doctor began, offering a reassuring smile. “Your heart and lungs are healthy, and your bloodwork came back normal.”

Aubrey’s girlfriend nodded slowly, her expression conflicted.

“So what’s causing this?” Aubrey asked, her tone carefully measured.

The doctor hesitated before answering. “It seems to be psychological—likely a panic attack.”

Aubrey’s girlfriend let out a bitter laugh. “Figures.”

“It’s more common than you think,” the doctor said gently. “There’s nothing physically wrong with you, which is good news. But I’d recommend following up with a therapist to explore potential triggers and coping strategies.”

“Right,” her girlfriend muttered as she stood, grabbing her bag. “So, I’m crazy. Got it.”

“You’re not crazy,” Aubrey said firmly, standing as well and pulling her into a hug. She held her close, one hand cradling the back of her head as her girlfriend let out a shaky breath against her shoulder.

“Thank you, doctor,” Aubrey said softly before leading her girlfriend out of the hospital.

The drive home was quiet, the radio turned off at her girlfriend’s request. When they reached Aubrey’s apartment—a place that had gradually become their shared home—they settled on the couch, the silence stretching between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aubrey asked after a while. “No pressure, but… I’m here.”

Her girlfriend pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. “It’s just… stuff. Work’s been rough, and… other things too.”

“Other things?” Aubrey prompted gently.

Her girlfriend hesitated. “It started about five months ago.”

Aubrey froze. Five months ago—the same time the media had started dissecting their relationship, plastering their faces across magazines and social media.

Her girlfriend must have noticed the look on her face because she quickly added, “This isn’t your fault, Aubrey. Please don’t think that.”

Aubrey shook her head. “I should’ve protected you from all of that.”

“You couldn’t have. I chose this. I chose you,” her girlfriend said, her voice trembling. “And I’d choose you again. Every time.”

Aubrey pulled her into her arms, kissing her temple. “I’d choose you too. Always.” She paused, stroking her girlfriend’s hair. “But I think we need help—someone who can help us make sense of this.”

Her girlfriend looked up at her, confused.

“I’m talking about therapy,” Aubrey said gently. “For you, if you want it. And maybe for us. Together.”

Her girlfriend frowned. “You think we need couples therapy?”

“I think it’s worth trying,” Aubrey said honestly. “You were scared to tell me what you’ve been going through, and I can’t stop blaming myself for what you’ve been feeling. I don’t want either of us to carry that alone.”

Her girlfriend sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’ll think about it,” she said quietly.

“That’s all I’m asking,” Aubrey said, kissing her hand.

After a moment, her girlfriend stood. “I need a bath. I feel gross.”

“Want company?” Aubrey offered with a small smile.

Her girlfriend nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want to be alone.”

Aubrey followed her into the bathroom, and they sank into the warm, bubble-filled tub together, with a book of y/n's choice as their worries temporarily melting away in the comfort of each other’s arms.

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

no specific chapter tags

read below or on ao3

Day 11: 2024

They didn't work on calls together often. Or, at all, really. But today was an exception. Today, Tommy was on the ground and the fire required help from five different stations. It took hours to get it under control, and then they were getting everything cleaned up. Tommy was pretty sure he could get back to Harbor without ever seeing Buck.

However, as that thought crossed his mind, and because the universe had it out for him, he was suddenly face to face with Buck, who was staring at him with his mouth hanging slightly open.

"H- Hi, To-"

“I started going to therapy,” Tommy blurted.

Buck cocked his head to the side. “Y- You did? When?”

“I made an appointment two days after we,” he paused, took a breath, “after I broke up with you.”

“Oh, that's... that's good, Tommy. I mean, I- I guess that's good. That's good, right?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, it's good.”

“Well, then. Good.”

There was a few seconds of awkward silence.

Until.

“I've been wanting to text you since we broke up.” Seemed like it was Buck's turn to blurt something out.

“I've been wanting to text you too.”

“Yeah, the bubbles.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. “The bubbles?”

Buck shook his head. “Nothing. It's... nothing. I just feel like we left a lot of things unsaid. Most things were left unsaid, actually. I'd like to change that. I'd like to try to change that.”

Tommy pursed his lips, trying to maintain his composure. It was getting more difficult by the second though, so he let go. “Buck, I'm a disaster,” he admitted, shoulders slumping. “I mean a huge, giant, massive disaster. There's been- There's so much that I...” his voice trailed off as he tried to find the right words. “It's years, and years, and years of traumas that built up, and I just kinda pushed them away and built a wall between me and all of that so that I could appear to be...”

“Comfortable?” Buck suggested.

Tommy smiled sadly. “Yeah.”

“I get that,” Buck replied. “It wasn't like I was really my best self either. I- I think I never let myself see past your wall. I knew there had to be more there, and I ignored it because you seemed so confident all the time and I kind of, maybe, took advantage of that.”

“No,” Tommy disagreed, stepping closer to Buck. “I never let you see beyond the wall, because the second it tore down I knew that it would just be this huge mess pouring out all over you and you don't deserve that, Buck. You deserve someone who actually has it together.”

“Tommy, what makes you think I have it together? I don't know what I'm doing. I think that's pretty obvious from the last time we spoke. I kinda made a fool out of myself.”

“Buck, it wasn't you,” Tommy tried to explain. “I decided from the start that I'd let you set the pace, and that was my mistake. I didn't realize your pace would feel like warp speed to me, and I would spend every day just trying to catch up. That's not fair to either of us.”

“Well i- it's not your fault that I'm so impulsive that I jumped over at least three steps when I asked you to move in with me and I just expected you to jump too. That wasn't fair either.”

Tommy took a deep breath, smiling slightly. “Sounds like I'm not the only one who's been going to therapy."

Buck laughed, rolling his eyes. “Every Tuesday, 4pm.”

“I'm Thursday's at five.”

Buck opened his mouth to speak when a voice came over the radio. “Leaving in five, Buck,” Bobby said. “Gotta head back.”

“Be there in a minute, Boss,” Buck replied.

He looked back up at Tommy. “I'd really, uh, like to talk to you, Tommy. Wh- When we're not in the middle of a shift. I'd, um, I'd like to get to know you. All of you.”

Tommy felt vulnerable. Exposed in a way he hadn't ever let himself feel before, and he and Buck hadn't even really said much. “I'm still trying to get to know myself."

“That's okay. I realized a few years back that that never really stops. I'd still like to talk. I think we both need that.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Yeah, I'd like to get to know you too. All of you.”

“Okay. Good, um, j- just text me, okay? Whenever. I'll... I'll be here.”

“I will,” Tommy assured him, then added with a smirk. “I won't just bubble you.”

Buck smiled. “Ah, so you did know what I was saying?”

“Of course. I saw your bubbles too.”

Then Buck was clearing the rest of the space between them, wrapping his arms around Tommy in a hug. “Merry Christmas, Tommy,” he whispered, face practically buried in Tommy's neck.

Once Tommy's brain caught up to what was happening, he returned the hug, holding Buck tight.

“Merry Christmas, Evan.”

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Jungle Pool SOS!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: when kyoya offers up his families yet to open resort no one could have guessed what would actually happen. ➼ what to expect: “I have a duty of care for you" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part six | Part eight

Now considering this was technically considered a club activity you have to admit this was the most relaxed you had been in a while. The sun beaming down on you while you sun bathe, even the usual drama of host club antics get lost in the serenity of an empty resort.

"I must admit Kyoya, when I joked a few years ago that the ootori group should create a holiday resort and label it as a form of therapy I didn't think you took it seriously" you muse, eyes closed as you bring in the sun rays.

Kyoya shrugs but quickly remembers that you can't actually see him "Believe it or not I don't completely disregard your ideas, expecially when they truly have merit, my father seemed to agree"

You hum knowingly at what he actually meant by that statement "I'm assuming that he doesn't know that it was my idea then" You tease, not really being that mad about the stolen idea, it wasn't like Kyoya was getting any direct monetary profit from the resort. "I did try crediting you but he had a hard time believing a fifteen year old girl came up with it by herself"

You weren't exactly surprised, you had met Kyoya's father after all, you knew what it was like by now. Luckily you were too relaxed to care at that moment.

There was a moment of silence, peace between the two of you. It was actually something you enjoyed when spending time with Kyoya, the two of you never forced conversation for the sake of it, which on it's own sounds sad but it makes any words that the two of you do exchange all the more important.

"If...you have any more ideas like that...tell me about them...I can at least appreciate a good idea when it comes from you" you laughed under your breath, "Well of course" lifting your sunglasses to rest against your head, sitting up to face him properly "You have taste"

"Why thank you my dear" he joked, taking a sip of his drink, watching chaoes unfold as Tamaki and the Twins argue over what Haruhi should wear. Typical.

“Haru-chan! Let’s play! You wanna go swimming in the current pool with me?” Honey tugs on Haruhi’s arm with a pink float decorated with bunnies clinging to his waist.

“Nah. I’m not gonna swim today. Hold on. You know how to swim; you still need that float?”

Honey shakes his head, “Mm-mm. Just looks cuter this way, you know?” Honey spins on his heel to go prancing in the other direction toward the current pool.

“Mm, he’s right. Those bunnies are pretty cute.”

“He’s so innocent.” The twins materialize on either side of your chair despite the umbrella above them.

You sigh, leaning back in your sun lounger basking in the controlled chaos you are used to.

“No way! You’ve got it all wrong!”

You start, awakened by a powerful rumbling in the ground and echoing voice.

“Is that Renge?” Haruhi turns her head to the offending sound.

A cabana splits in half, and the trees part to make way for her infamous contraption, the rumbling sound now accompanied by her shrill laugh.

“How does she do that? It’s like the rig follows us.” Haruhi sweats.

you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose "One day, all i want is one day"

“That outfit’s pretty impressive,” Hikaru observes Renge’s two-piece bikini and a tattoo winding up her ribcage.

“What’s with the tattoo on your stomach?” Kaoru inquires.

“Oh, that? You don’t recognize it? I’m cosplaying.”

“Yeah, as who?”

“La-La~”

“LaLa? Like the manga magazine?” Kaoru grumbles.

“Her petite and slender frame, her blue eyes that light up young men’s faces, her singing voice! I am Quon Kisaragi!” Renge extolls.

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Haruhi sneers.

“I had no idea who you were supposed to be.” Tamaki shrugs.

Once again, the twins and Tamaki are huddled in a circle as Renge poses for Haruhi, who watches, miffed.

“Hey, Boss, are you sure it’s okay for Renge to be dressed-”

“-like that?” They point to the girl in question.

“Well, yeah. That’s okay.” Tamaki shrugs indifferently.

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s cosplay? I guess.”

“Listen up, boys! You obviously need help understanding Haninozuka’s hidden motives. Look!” Renge notes, pointing over to Honey and Mori.

“Takashi!” Honey calls, landing in the current pool and letting the current sweep him gently away as Mori watches fondly.

“What are you talking about?” Tamaki implores.

“Think about what he said to you earlier.”

“Just looks cuter this way, you know?”

“He’s not being as sweet and innocent as you think.”

From the chair next to you, Kyoya shoves his glasses up his nose, “I agree. Try putting the word 'I’ at the beginning of that sentence.”

“I just look cuter this way, you know?”

“I look cute!”

“He planned that?!”

“That’s Haninozuka for you. In the last part, he felt threatened by another loli-boy type, so he’s taken steps to keep his rank. I should give him more credit. He’s a lot smarter than I thought.” Renge descends into the ground and disappears.

“Hey! Look at this, everybody!” Honey draws everyone’s attention to him and Mori.

Mori swims diligently against the current with Honey on his back.

“Check it out! Look! Even though we’re swimming really fast, we never go any farther than we are now!” He waves excitedly.

“So, what’s up with him?” Tamaki groans.

“Could he really be that smart?” Haruhi interjects.

Hikaru cocks his super-soaker water gun; the squeaking draws Tamaki’s attention to them before he’s blasted in the face with a stream of water.

“I got ya!” Hikaru winks handsomely, resting his weapon of choice on his shoulder.

“C'mon, Boss, let’s go! Let’s have a water gun fight.”

“It’ll be me and Kaoru against you. If you get it in the face, you lose. What do you say?” Hikaru implores, hand on his hip.

“Forget it.” Tamaki dries his face, “Why would I want to subject myself to a childish game like that?”

An idea forms in each of the twins’ minds.

All of a sudden, you’re grabbed by your wrist and pulled from your nap with an exclamation of surprise.

“y/n, I think it’s time that we got married! Then we’ll honeymoon in Atami!”

You quickly break from their hold, sitting back down on the lounger really not wanting to get involved. "Considering if y/n was going to marry anyone it would be me you clearly haven't thought through your plan very well" Kyoya spoke up, glaring at the twins before nodding towards haruhi.

The twins quickly pick up what he's putting down "Good point Kyoya, we were thinking about this all wrong, Haruhi clearly is the better option SHE should marry us"

"gee thanks" you mutter but its clear that it did the job of pissing off Tamaki, breaking out a waterfight between the three of them.

“I’ll get you guys! Sideways-leaping shot!” Tamaki launches himself sideways, but the twins shield themselves with two comically large tiki masks.

“That’s cheating!” When Tamaki lands, his foot catches on the previously discarded banana peel, and he tumbles noisily into a totem pole, head first.

You wince and suck in a breath through clenched teeth, “Oh- that didn’t sound good.”

One by one, the animals on the totem pole’s eyes glow an intimidating red until the final animal at the top is shining.

You remove your sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, “That… doesn’t sound good either.”

As if he senses something is amiss, Mori drops his glass at your feet, attention diverting to Honey in the current pool, still carelessly kicking his feet.

Something underneath the water rumbles, and a wave develops until it’s practically a tsunami. With wide eyes, Honey watches as it heads straight towards him.

“Wah~!” It crashes over him, and his bunny float is sent soaring into the air- but without him inside as he’s flushed in the wave.

“Honey-Senpai!” You lurch from your chair, and your sunglasses fall discarded to the ground.

“Mitsukuni!”

Both you and Mori hurry to see if you have enough time to save him, but Mori slips on the same banana peel and falls harshly to the unforgiving concrete.

“Mori-Senpai,” You call in concern.

Tamaki jabs a heroic finger in the air, “Gentlemen, we’re going after Honey-Senpai! That pool looks like the quickest way!” he announces, referring to the pool Honey was treading water in before he was washed away.

“Charge!” Haruhi, Mori, and the twins follow Tamaki’s lead as they sprint haphazardly in a random direction.

As you see that Kyoya’s stayed put, you decide that it might be best to stay put as well. His family did build this resort, after all.

“Wait! I wouldn’t go-”

It’s already too late; the club has come across the alligators in that direction. “There are alligators in there!” They flee as quickly as they can.

Tamaki jabs another heroic finger in the air, “Okay. So we can’t use that pool, then let’s try this way next!”

But where Tamaki has pointed, several more alligators appear, snapping their jaws in a warning.

“They’re here too!”

“And here!”

With his more petite, brown leather portable notebook, Kyoya’s glasses glint off the sun as he explains your current situation.

“Those alligators belong to the park’s tropical animals exhibit. I guess it is kind of dangerous to let them run wild.”

“And yet i'm supposedly the one with bad ideas?” You huff in frustration, peering at Kyoya from your crouched position on your nap chair.

“Though, the cause of our present situation seems to be the location of the switch for the current pool. I’ll have to have a little chat with our designers.” He snaps the notebook shut.

“Thanks a lot, you guys. I got some great data today.”

“You what?!” The club exclaims.

“Ok I'll admit that is a little smart" You shrug.

“This is a map of the Tropical Aqua Garden. This is our current location. We need to get here- I have a feeling that’s where Honey-Senpai probably ended up. It might be tough, because to get there, we’ll have to make it this jungle area in the southern block.”

Kyoya drags his pen along the map to indicate your path, “Distance-wise, we’re talking about 800 meters.”

“It looks like there’s a lot of undeveloped areas. And idea what might be lurking in those parts of the jungle?” Haruhi cautiously inquires.

“Since they’re still being developed, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Yeah, someone’s going to have to carry me.” You lift your arms high and glance around for any takers.

None. Yet. You’re going to have to work on your skills.

“Whatever’s out there could be even more dangerous-”

“-than alligators.”

“Alright. Now, this is a mission of survival! I know we can make it through the treacherous jungle in one piece… It is our sworn duty to save Honey-Senpai!”

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

In the dense plant life and humidity of the inner workings of the jungle, the sunlight is much more filtered than it was out in the open.

“Wow, this place is just like a real jungle, huh?”

If you couldn’t see the glass dome and someone had dropped you off in the middle of this theme park with no knowledge as to how you got there, you might have believed you were in the jungle.

“Yeah, and I keep hearing all of these really strange animal calls,” Haruhi grumbles.

“You don’t think that all of those animal sounds-”

“-could belong to the real thing, do you?”

Kyoya shrugs, “To be honest, I’m not sure, but I do know that my family always strives for authenticity whatever the cost.”

"There surely must be some kind of ethical issue if that is the case, wouldn't be a good healing facility if there is a serious alligator injury" you pointed out, suprised that Kyoya's family would put actually dangerous animals in an enclosed area.

Kyoya hummed "I suppose so but it also wouldn't surprise me if that was on purpose to drive more business to our hospitals" he muttered only loud enough for you to hear really. It didn't surprise you either really but you dreaded to think if that was actually the case.

As if on cue, Mori slips and falls behind the group. At the loud grunt and crash, you all turn to him. He lays unmoving with a banana peel on his face.

“Mori-Senpai is-”

“-acting as clumsy as you do, Boss.” Hikaru and Kaoru worry.

“Shut up!” Tamaki snarls as Mori sits up from his position on the ground.

Your accusations are correct- Mori is more worried than you can imagine.

The sunlight diminishes greatly, and you look overhead to see the beginnings of rainfall.

“Uh-oh, it’s about time for the squall,” Kyoya notes as he checks his wristwatch.

“Huh?”

The first few drops fall, then it turns into a downpour. You and the club take refuge in a nearby pavilion with a straw roof.

“Hey, Mori-Senpai. You seem to be really close with Honey-Senpai. Are the two of you like childhood friends?” Haruhi inquires from her seat in the pavilion beside the twins as Mori leans on the edge, watching the raindrops fall.

"You don't know?" hikaru asked "They're cousins" Kaoru added. You lean back against the wall of the shelter you are all in, sighing as you look out into the rain.

"Now this is the kind of rain that I remember" you mutter to yourself, the rain reminding you of europe. Kyoya also leans against the wall next to you "Hello? It's me. Well, we've had an incident that's caused some trouble"

you look up to see Kyoya on the phone, most likely to either his father or someone high up in his private police force. "No she's fine. yes she's unharmed" You raised an eyebrow, obvious that he was talking about you although you were confused on why whoever he was talking to was asking about you.

In the mean time Mori and Haruhi seem to wander off "Yes, at once, please" he finally put down the phone. "My family's private police force is going to send in a search and rescue team to help us, they're better equipped to find Honey-senpai than we are. so let's just go back to the gate and wait there"

The others weren't listening except for you, too busy arguing over Haruhi. "Hey, where are Mori and Haruhi?" he questioned as all of you left the shelter to head for the gate, but he shrugged it off, figuring they would show up at some point with a search and rescue team around.

The other boys rush ahead, still arguing "when you were on the phone before, you were talking about me? weren't you?" You ask kyoya, looking up at him as he looks ahead. "I was, why do you ask?"

You dead pan at him, head tilting at the side "You know why"

Kyoya sighs "you know I have a duty of care for you, as does my father, if I call up our police force when it is known that I am with you it is protocol to ask about your safety" he explains.

He pauses, stopping in his tracks "You know, I'm don't believe I mentioned to them that there are other visitors here. Huh. Oh well" He shrugs carrying on, hovering a hand over your back to urge you forward.

however instead of finding the gate you instead find a series of police officers on the floor with honey, Mori and Haruhi standing before them. We break out into a run at the sight of them "Haruhi!" Tamaki cries.

"Are you alright?" he adds, the five of you out of breath as you come to a halt "Hey its Tama-chan!" Honey says as if he hadn't just knocked out a dozen guards.

"You okay, senpai?" Hikaru asks. "Haruhi!!!" Tamaki leaps for her "I was so worried" the twins bend down to check on the guards "I'm not sure what happened here, but at least they're alive"

"It's pretty amazing that this is Honey sepai's work"

"He must have been really holding back" they continue to poke at the guards

"Huh?"

“What do you mean he was holding back?” Haruhi queries with innocent eyes, although Tamaki is in serious pain.

“So then-”

“-you don’t know about Senpai?” The twins seem bewildered by her lack of knowledge.

“The Haninozukas are famous for their martial arts. Not only have they helped train the police and SDF forces, but they’ve also worked with several overseas military forces.” Hikaru elaborates as they abandon their fascination with the grounded soldiers.

“Honey-Senpai, in particular, has been called the dreadnaught of the Haninozuka family. By the time he was in middle school, he’d become the national champion in both karate and judo.”

Honey turns when he feels he’s called, then giggles with closed eyes.

That’s the karate and judo champion for you.

“Mori-Senpai’s no slouch either. He won the national championship in kendo when he was just in middle school.”

Haruhi looks to her savior, and he turns when his name is mentioned.

“So how were you able to find us, Honey-Senpai?” the twins inquire as Honey has returned to his natural aura.

“It wasn’t hard. It didn’t take me long to reach the end of the current pool, so I decided to look for you guys.”

“We humbly apologize!” A different, more foreign voice pipes in, and the attention of the club directs to the soldiers, now reoriented from their initial shock and kneeling to the ground in a show of respect.

“I am a second-generation student of the Ishizuka Dojo!”

“I’m a student of the Todoroki Dojo!”

“And I’m from the Otakeh Dojo! We are in your debt!”

Honey’s eyes and posture display innocence and confusion, “Why? Is something wrong?” His voice can easily be mistaken for an eight-year-old boy’s.

“Yes, sir! We’re so sorry, sir! We were unaware that we were searching for Mitsukuni Haninozuka! We’ve committed a terrible offense here! I apologize for this confrontation. But my dojo will be so excited to hear that I’ve come face to face with the great Haninozuka! I cherish this moment!”

You snort, scooting closer to Kyoya, “I bet if he offered them an autograph, they’d pass out.” You snicker. You almost draw a smile from him, but rather he gives you a condescending look.

“What? I bet I’m not wrong.” You pout.

Honey takes Mori by the wrist and gently brings him down to his level, patting him gingerly on the forehead, “Takashi~ you did an amazing job of protecting Haru-chan.”

This patronizing show of affection elicits a smile from Kyoya as he adjusts his glasses.

“I bet you were pretty lonely without me around, huh?”

Mori’s eyes dart to the right where Haruhi is stood, “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

Honey smiles with a fond giggle.

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

With the sun setting, the clear, blue water now fades to an orange, coral color as it washes upon the shore. It has taken the rest of the day to walk back to where you’d begun this journey.

Despite his earlier resentment, you now ride on Kyoya’s back, limp arms slung around his neck and your cheek pressed to his back, eyes contently shut.

Back to your much deserved nap.

“You know, maybe we should go to the beach next.” The twins stride ahead with arms casually thrown behind their heads.

“Yeah, the beach would be nice.” Kaoru agrees.

Kyoya glances over his shoulder at your relaxed features and smiles fondly. He’ll have to keep you away from the water.

“You idiots, Haruhi’s not interested in anything like that.” Tamaki scoffs confidently.

Haruhi smiles gently, “Actually, I might like to go to the beach.” It stuns the club, each one stopping in their tracks to look at her.

“I may not be into this silly water park but I like the ocean. It would be nice to go the beach, and it’s so pretty.”

Completely recovered and acting like he hasn’t just opposed it, Tamaki glitters, “Yeah! Alright. Then that’s where we’ll go next time.”

“We’re all gonna go to the beach, Tama-chan?” Honey quips, perched on Mori’s shoulders.

He hums gently, “That’ll be fun, don’t you think?” His inquiry is directed to Mori below him.

Mori simpers fondly, “Yeah,” It’s not hard to pick up the genuine agreement in his tone.

Next time on patience 'The Sun, the sea, and the host club!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000

[etherealstar-writes]

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 7

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: seven

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the REAL karate kid

good afternoon losers

and y/n <3

the imposter

hey

willybum

good afternoon you dumbass

and hello to you too y/n

the REAL karate kid

rude

how are you y/n?

the imposter

eh i'm doing fine i guess

stairway

is everything alright

the imposter

i got fired from work today 😔

lotte

what happened?

if you don't mind me asking

the imposter

so i told ya what i do for work yeah?

well i've worked for this company for the past

whole year as their main solo media manager

and then my boss found out that his good old

friend's son was looking for a job and he's also

a photographer and social media manager so he

decided to fire me and hire him instead to

keep his relationship strong with his old friend

the REAL karate kid

that really sucks

your boss sounds like a terrible person

the imposter

yeah he was a really difficult person

i am kinda glad tho ngl

i don't have to see his annoying face ever again

but back to job hunting again 😔

neev

if it makes you feel better

leah got head-shotted in the head

by lessi during training

the imposter

i really hope someone got proof of it

stairway

i gotcha

maya

HELP

lotte

got K.O-ed lol

willybum

this isn't funny

i got a full on concussion

i'll get you back russo

the REAL karate kid

not my fault you're a terrible defender 🤷‍♀️

willybum

EXCUSE ME?!

the imposter

dam

them calves 😮‍💨

has anyone ever asked you

to step on them?

neev

um y/n is there something you'd

like to share with the group ...

willybum

weirdly enough yeah

i have been asked that

elton

it was actually just y/n asking

on a secret account

the imposter

don't expose me like that 😩

meado

every time i open this group chat

i get deeply concerned for you all again

i don't even know who y/n is and i feel like

i should be concerned about her as well

the imposter

woah

meado

i thought we were getting along well 😔

stairway

well if meado is concerned then

i guess she's offering to pay for

our therapy so let's go gang

the imposter

also

why do guys always train and

play football together?

elton

oh you know

we just like to play football together at times

stairway

yeah

it's fun

the imposter

okay ....

who am i to judge

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE LION KING SQUAD

russo

uh

so guys

i have done something

toone

oh no

that is never a good sign

le tissier

okay i'm intrigued

this is gonna be bad

wubben-moy

the fact that she's using the group chat

without y/n is not a good sign

stanway

is she about to introduce her new wife

to us or something? did you like run away

and get married in vegas or something?

charles

we literally saw her yesterday georgia

so if she had then that would be

insanely impressive

toone

is that why you weren't at training today?

greenwood

ella looked very lost today

it was worrying

russo

yeah

i ran away with y/n and we got married

toone

HUH

stanway

WHAT

charles

EXCUSE ME

russo

OF COURSE NOT YOU IDIOTS

not yet anyway 😏

but back to the point

leah was also in on this

bright

oh like that's any better

williamson

excuse me??

wubben-moy

here we go

russo

okay

so

you know how y/n's looking for a job yeah?

well leah and i thought we'd put in a

good word for her in our media admin so

that you know .... maybe she can get

offered a job here and you know we can

actually meet her and get to know her irl ....

stanway

that is actually ....

the most decent idea i've heard from ya

charles

yeah fr

hemp

oh my god y'all are such simps

stanway

shut up

toone

i do wonder when y/n will find out about

who we are or if she ever will

charles

nah she's got to find out soon with

the euros starting next week?

williamson

i reckon we tell her after the euros

wubben-moy

well that shall be eventful

part eight here

[cutebat]

Go Home with your Friends Route

Warning(s): No yandere themes, past neglect, a lot of swearing, skipping school, attempted smoking, mentions of pills, bribery, threats

(This is where now you can pick your own choices in this series, so this isn't technically a chapter)

~~~~~

You decided to go home cause honestly, fuck school.

~~~~~

You and your friends all went inside the Wayne Manor after that whole conversation.

"You can put your stuff right there."

You tell them as you point at the corner.

As they did that, the three of you went into the living room and sat on the couch.

It was silent for a moment before you spoke up.

"So, do you guys wanna do anything or what?"

You ask that makes the two of them stare at you.

"You're the one who made us skip with you. How the hell should we know? We've never been to your house before."

Sasha responds as she leans back against the couch.

"Did you really decide to go home so you can avoid Damian?"

Noelle asks as she crossed her arms and puts her leg over her other one.

"Not really. He lives here."

You respond in a nonchalant tone.

"What?"

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"Then, why did you want to go home if you know he lives here?"

"I don't know, I just don't want to be at school right now after everything that happened and he never skips, so we're fine."

It was silent again before Sasha spoke up.

"Can we smoke here?"

She asks as she lightly pushes herself off the couch.

"You can, but I don't know if you should. Bruce banned cigarettes here."

You tell her.

"Okay, well, you hate your dad, your brothers, your sister, and basically anyone who you told us that you hate. So, let us smoke here."

"Holy shit, calm down. Fine, you can. Also, how are you so addicted to this?"

"Blame my mom. I usually steal stuff from her and she has a fuck ton of cigarettes lying around the house. I usually take them when I feel fucked over."

There was a brief silence before you spoke up again.

"... How old are you again?"

"Fifteen?"

"Are you really going to smoke at that age?"

"Bitch, you don't know when you're going to die or not. I don't really care about what my fate is, so why not just use that time to just, you know?"

"I guess that's true."

"Cool. Anyway, Noelle, what kind did you bring today?"

Sasha asks as she turns to her other friend who is just sitting on the couch, not saying a word for the entire time until now.

"I have Marlboro Ultra Lights in my backpack."

She said that made Sasha cringe.

"Seriously? You have the weak ones? What happened to all the good shit you had?"

"My mom started therapy as her New Year resolution ever since she caught my dad having an affair with his intern three years ago. And now, she basically quit smoking and smokes with very weak cigs every two weeks."

Noelle said as she walked over to the corner before returning with her bag.

"So, do you still want to do it, or not?"

Sasha seems to be in thought before she lets out a heavy sigh.

"I don't know... These things don't throw me over that much. I need something that can actually fuck me up."

She said as you spoke up.

"I actually found some pills that my brother's girlfriend had. I think she left them, but they look pretty cool to high over on."

You said as you took out a pill bottle.

"What's that?"

Sasha asks as she stares down at the bottle in your hand.

"I dunno. I just found them on the ground when she left."

You said in response with a shrug.

"Damn... two choices. Smoking or getting high over some pills that we know nothing off."

Noelle mutters out as she stares down at the pills.

~~~~~

Use Bab's pills

Smoke in the house (Coming soon)

•

•

•

Taglist: @somebodyrandom-613 @delias-stuff @endism @ragdol-666 @snowy-violet @sleepydhanie @missikkj @k1ttys-w0rld @box-of-kinderjoy @thetreefairypersonalblog @thelibraryofdeez @animegoddess15 @lilyalone @seraph101 @lain3iwakura @tacodeemon @whiterabbitxxx @yuyuzi-ling @lilithquillete @amisupposedtomakesenserightnow @una1002289 @spacetravelr @luckyangelballoon @illytian @ghostdoodlen @imaginarydreams @flyingpansaurus @wrenbirde @kimzzz18 @ohnoivefallen @ferakillia @f1lover4ever @asahi20789 @livingforloves @moonieper @rosecentury @waitingforanarchicaddiction @missmannequin @mischiefmanaged124 @hanselate @doli09 @chocolatemoose26 @enjisthings @stitchtheseconde @purple-lemon-8 @milliu @blublock404 @kimzzz18 @jsprien213 @bluemidnightmelodies @enter-sandmann @tdickensstuff4 @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @starsdotalk @sumikosasaki @erikasurfer @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @0lshadyl0 @ghostlotusnymph @yuyuzi-ling @lilithskywalker @trashlanternfish360 @i-never-saw-snow @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @76lonelyspoons

(If you want to be in the taglist, let me know!)

[muldj0rd]

“You saved my life. You’re my superhero” || Lestappen

Summary: “I’m still sorry” Max walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him. Charles only hummed “You always look at me” Max whispered quietly “Did I do something?”

“You have a black eye and bruises on your left bicep” Charles sighed, turning off the stove “If I look at you, I might just break down myself” Charles chuckled softly

Warnings: Jos Verstappen’s A+ parenting, Jos Verstappen is a warning in himself, talk about mental illness’, depression, eating disorder, angst, Max needs a hug, Charles gives it to him, internalised homophobia, top Charles, bottom Max, anal, anal fingering, handjob, dacryphilia, praise kink, insecure Max, insecurities, nipple play, Charles being Max’s first male partner

Masterlist || AO3

Growing up, and if you didn’t look too close, Max was a happy child

Good mother. Good sister. Grew up with a father with failed racing dreams

It gave him pressure, sure… But if he didn’t have the pressure… Would he be who he was today?

Today, Max Verstappen was a three-time world champion winner

3 times as more champions than his dad

61 more wins than his dad ever had

Was his dad a good dad, though?

Jos Verstappen was the worst dad, if he even deserved to call himself a father

Max grew up with all kinds of mental illness’. Some he grew out of, some he didn’t

Depression. Stayed all through out his karting days and up until now

Eating Disorder. He didn’t feel valid for having one, and thinking he made it up because he didn’t look like someone with an ED

He wasn’t fit. He wasn’t skinny. He wasn’t…

He’d look in the mirror every morning, looking at his shirt covered chest, telling himself he needed to work out more, loose the fat around his stomach

No matter how hard he tried to loose the fat, he could never look good or how he wanted

He could never look like Charles

Charles was pretty. Who was Max kidding? Charles was hot… Until he slept. Charles was drop dead gorgeous when he slept

Max didn’t care it sounded creepy- it wasn’t, right? They were friends, and Charles had fallen asleep in his company before, so naturally Max had seen Charles asleep. Gorgeous

Max wouldn’t be where he was without his so called father

Max would be dead without Charles

Max wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. It was wrong… That’s at least what his dad had told him after Max had told him a story about Charles that maybe to Jos sounded a tad bit too friendly

Max wasn’t gay

”Charles is pretty”

Max wasn’t gay

”Charles is slightly attractive”

Max wasn’t gay

”Charles is hot”

Was Max gay?

No.

Red Bull had suggested- Christian had suggested to Max that he tried out therapy, he refused of course, but when Christian didn’t shut the fuck up, he agreed just to keep him off of his back

“Who helped you become who you are today? A three-time champion, that is?” The therapist asked curious

“My dad… I guess” Max shrugged slightly, biting his bottom lip softly, the skin rough from where he had been nibbling at it for a few days, stressed about this session

“You guess?” He asked curious, shifting in his seat

“I wouldn’t be a champion without my dad, but I wouldn’t be…” Max sighed, nails scraping his palm, itching the anxious feeling “…I wouldn’t be… I wouldn’t be alive… Without… Without C-Charles” It was if the words were wrong, or a sin of some kind

“Charles? Leclerc?” He questioned, knitting his eyebrows together

“He’s always been there for me” Max shrugged slightly, his bottom lip trembling “When… When everybody was… When everybody was against me, Charles had been there. Always. Picking me up from the dirt of the track, telling me everything would be okay and that people could go fuck themselves” He chuckled softly, his eyes welling up, glazing with tears

“So… You and Charles are friends?” He hummed, writing something down on his notes

“Yeah. I guess…” Max hummed, shrugging slightly, sniffling

“You need to stop guessing, and instead start to know” He sighed “You like Charles?”

“Yes” Max hummed “I mean- no. Not like that. I guess-… I know, Charles is a friend”

“You find Charles attractive?” Max looked up, his tears now dried

“H-He’s pretty. I gue- I know” Max swallowed “Sometimes” He shrugged slightly

“When? When is Charles pretty to you?” He shifted curiously in his chair, the one hour now gone, but he wanted to hear more from Max

“When he sleeps” Max shrugged “His long eye lashes against his cheek bones, his lips slightly parted, pretty lips… Full. Nice. His hair messy… Looks more fluffy that way. I just kinda wanna stroke it, thread my fingers through it” Max smiled softly, not realising what he was saying

“Max…” He sighed softly “I can’t tell you how you feel, but… I think maybe you should reconsider what you feel towards Charles

“I’m not gay” Max said confused, shaking his head slightly “I’m not”

“I’m not saying you are, Max… I’m saying you should reconsider if Charles and you are better friends than you go around and think”

”I’m not gay” Max kept mumbling all the time, in all the languages he knew

“You listening, boy?” Jos asked when he saw and heard Max mumbling to himself “What you mumbling about?”

“Nothing. Sorry father. I’m listening” Max apologised, squirming in his seat where he sat

He wasn’t listening, and he knew his father knew, and he was sure as hell to be beaten over it later

MAX: Can I come over and cuddle with Leo?

Charles blinked his eyes open. He was yet to fall asleep when he heard the ping, but close to

The light was bright in his eyes. 1:36 said his phone when he turned the brightness down

CHARLES: It’s almost 2 am, and he’s asleep. What about Sassy and Jimmy?

MAX: Can I come over to just see you then?

Max always used Leo as an excuse to see Charles when he needed it

CHARLES: Of course you can, Max

’Thank you. I love you’

MAX: Thank you. I’ll be there in a bit

Moments like these came often, so to not wake the whole apartment complex, Charles had given Max a key

Max closed the door behind him quietly. Kicking off his shoes and his jacket, putting them neatly on their respectful places, knowing Charles was a neat freak

Max softly got into Charles bed, careful not to wake him if he was asleep, Leo stirring quietly awake when he moved to lay on his side, back facing Charles’

Max’ breath hitched slightly as he felt Charles pull the duvet up over his body, an arm around his waist, keeping him close, soothing him softly to sleep

Charles asked once at 3 am what happened. Max broke into tears. Charles hated seeing Max like that, so he never asked again

He felt guilty for never asking. Selfish. Max didn’t want to talk about it anyways, so it was all good

Max woke up by Leo licking all over his face, making him groan softly

He was now laying on his stomach as Leo curled into his side, his fur soft against Max’s hand that was stroking him

He got out of the bed, seeing as Charles wasn’t there. His mind worked on auto pilot, his body walking towards the smell of food

“I’m sorry” Max murmured from where he stood in the middle of the living room, looking into the kitchen

Charles’s body stiffened slightly “It’s fine. It’s what friends are for” He chocked out, not looking at Max

Why didn’t he? He always looked at Max. No matter what

“I’m still sorry” Max walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him. Charles only hummed “You always look at me” Max whispered quietly “Did I do something?”

“You have a black eye and bruises on your left bicep” Charles sighed, turning off the stove “If I look at you, I might just break down myself” Charles chuckled softly

Max was the one getting abused, so why was Charles the one going to break down?

“Charles…” Max almost whined, looking up into the back of Charles head “Look at me, please… Charles, I need you to look at me” Max whispered

Charles tapped on the counter with his nail, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the ceiling, hoping the unshed tears would just go away

When they didn’t and he couldn’t stretch it any longer, he turned around, opening his eyes slowly

He shouldn’t have. The tears streamed silently down his cheeks the moment he saw Max’s disheveled look

Max drew Charles into his arms, Charles immediately shoving his head into the crook of Max’s neck, his hands clutching at the front of Max’s shirt

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve saved you” Charles sobbed into Max’s neck, his body shaking

‘You saved my life’

Max’s eyes welled up, feeling guilty that he had made Charles feel like this. Made him feel like he should apologise

“It’s not your fault” Max chocked out, sniffling slightly, holding back tears as best as he could

Charles leaned away from Max neck, his sobbing quieting down, now eye to eye

Max took his hand up to Charles’s cheek, the rough pad of his thumb wiping away tears around his beautiful green eyes

“It’s not your fault” Max tried again

Max wanted to lean in, kissing Charles until they were both passed out from oxygen. It wasn’t the right time… or was it?

‘Fuck it. I am gay’ Max though before slowly leaning in, kissing Charles softly, Charles kissing back immediately

“Thought you weren’t gay” Charles chuckled, tear stains on his cheeks and chin

“What?” Max asked, still dazed from how good and right the kiss felt

“I’ve heard you mumbling all last week” Charles chuckled again, his hands squeezing Max’s waist softly

“Oh… Well…” Max scratched the nape of his neck “I guess my therapist have gotten into my head”

“No… He wouldn’t do that. He’s just given you a push towards something you couldn’t walk towards yourself” Charles said softly, his green eyes wet from his earlier crying

How could Max not want to kiss Charles when looked like that? So he did. Max leaned back in to kiss Charles

Charles kissed back as well, a little more tender than before

Charles wanted Max- no. Charles needed Max. He needed him in a way no other could give him

He kissed Max a little harder, drawing a yelp out of him as well as Charles pushed Max softly up against the island counter, trapping his body

Charles’ hand went into Max’s hair. It was cut. Charles hated it. Max looked better with longer hair, but he always cut it because Jos said ’It made him look like a faggot’

It wasn’t cut too short, so Charles stilled managed to tug softly, making Max leaning back with a whimper, Charles’ lips going to his throat

“You’re pretty when you cry” Max chocked out, closing his eyes, trying to think of anything else than what it might feel like having Charles inside of him

“Yeah? That’s your kink?” Charles chuckled, his tongue lapping at Max’s throat and over his Adam’s apple

“N-no” Max chocked out… Maybe it was, yes. It definitely turned him on a little, but he didn’t want Charles to cry during sex

“Hm. Shame” Charles hummed, his hands on Max’s hips, pulling him away from the counter, guiding him towards the bedroom again

“Shame?” Max asked confused, Charles pushing him softly to lay down against the bed

“Yeah” Charles hummed, sitting down in between Max’s spread legs, hands just below where his shirt ended “Would love to see you cry in pleasure”

Charles leaned down, kissing Max again, his hands traveling under Max shirt, but he stopped him, pushing at his wrists

Charles stoped, leaning back again, seeing Max’s face turned to the side, his eyes screwed shut, hands tight around Charles’ wrists

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. We don’t have to. It’s fine. I’m sorry for pressuring you” Charles said softly, hissing quietly at Max’s strong grip around his wrists

“No, no. I want to. It’s just-… I don’t-… I don’t like m-my…” He had turned his head back to Charles, but his eyes were still screwed shut

“I do. You’re so goddamn beautiful that it hurts to look at you” Charles sighed “And I want to show you just how much I love all of you”

Max whimpered softly. Love? His hands slowly loosening around Charles’ wrists, slowly opening his eyes

“Let me show you” Charles whispered, his eyes soft and wide. Max nodded softly “That’s not enough for me, amour”

“Show me” Max nodded softly

“Thank you. We can always stop if you get too uncomfortable, okay?” Max nodded “Max”

“Yes” He said as soon as Charles said his name

’Good boy’ It sat on Charles tongue. He didn’t say it

Charles didn’t know, but he’d assume that Max had a praise kink- I mean, who wouldn’t in his state?

He didn’t get any praise when he was younger, so Charles had now decided to make it his mission and give Max praise for every little thing

“Lift your arms” Charles said softly

He could feel the hesitation in Max’s hands were they twitched around Charles’s wrists before he pulled them off and over his head, sitting slightly up so Charles could pull the T-shirt over his head

Max fell back against the bed, immediately covering his stomach with his arms

Charles leaned down, kissing Max from his lips, down his chin, along his jaw, down his neck, over his throat, and down to his collarbone

Max whimpered every time Charles moved to a new spot, arching his neck to let Charles have more space, his arms tightening around his stomach

“You’re so fucking beautiful, mon amour. So fucking beautiful” Charles hummed, kissing down Max’s chest softly

Max moaned softly when Charles licked over one of his nipples, causing him to hold his hand over his mouth, giving Charles the chance to kiss further down, closing in on his stomach

Max felt like pushing Charles away, but why would he? Max thought it over

If it was anybody else, he hadn’t let it go this far, but it wasn’t anybody else. It was Charles. Charles who had saved him. Charles who has saved his life. He wouldn’t find that part of his body disgusting. Would he?

Max moved his other arm, letting both arms fall to his sides

Charles looked up at Max, slightly surprised he had gotten him comfortable, but he loved it nonetheless

Max, the broken man with no proper childhood, was comfortable around Charles

Charles continued to kiss Max’s stomach, slowly getting lower, kissing the skin above Max’s waistband of his sweats

Max wanted to thread his fingers through Charles’ hair, so he did. The dark brown locks soft around Max’s rough fingers

“Charlie” Max whined quietly as Charles darted his tongue out, licking at the stubble burns he had accidentally made seeming he hadn’t shaven in a couple of days

“Yes, amour?” Charles asked teasingly, leaning back to see the burns he had accidentally made down Max’s pale body

“Please” Max whimpered “I n-need you” He stuttered, blushing red from the embarrassment of sounding needy and desperate

“Yeah? You need me?” Charles chuckled, to which Max mumbled out a low ‘yes’ “Alright. Sweats and briefs off” Charles patted the outside of Max’s thigh before he went to the night stand, taking the lube from the drawer

Charles turned back to the bed, seeing Max now completely naked and laid further up the bed

“Mon dieu. You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are” Charles sighed with a slight smile, his hands caressing Max’s thighs, watching as his hard cock twitched at the affection, leaking slightly

“This isn’t fair” Max whined, tugging at the hem of Charles’ shirt

Charles took the hint, chuckling softly as he pulled the T-shirt off of himself

Max almost drooled at the sight, but was quickly replaced with a small pout “I’ll never look like you” He mumbled

“I don’t want you to, amour. I want you to look just like this” He murmured, opening the lube bottle, pouring some on his fingers

“Remember; you can tell me to stop whenever, okay?” Charles reminded Max as he warmed up the lube

Max nodded quietly “Amour” Charles said, in a tone that was slightly warningly

“Yes” Max said “Jus’-… please Charlie” Max whined, bucking his hips slightly, trying to show Charles how much he needed him

Charles only chuckled softly, circling Max’s hole softly, making Max moan softly, his hands gripping at the sheets

Though, his hands immediately flew to Charles’ biceps when Charles slowly pushed in his finger

“F-fuck- Charles” Max whimpered, feeling Charles slowly moved his finger, twisting it and slowly moving in and out of him

When Max was loose enough, Charles pushed in a second finger, Max moaning at the action, his back arching

“Dieu. Why haven’t I made a move before, hm? You’re so fucking beautiful like this” Charles chuckled, his fingers slowly and softly moving in and out of Max, his lips attached to Max’s bent knee, most likely giving him burns there as well

“C-Charles. Please- i-i need it so bad. Please” Max had never thought in a million years he’d be begging for Charles’ cock inside him

“Shh. I got you, baby” Charles soothed, slowly pulling his fingers out of Max, loving the whine that escaped Max’s lips

Charles wiped his fingers on the inside of Max’s thigh so he could pull his own sweats and briefs down

When Charles had lubed himself and lining himself up with Max’s fluttering hole, Max held his hands against Charles’ abdomen, stopping him softly

“I-i’ve never… I’ve never had sex with a man- I don’t know what I’m doing” Max said, more confident then when they had started

“I know, amour. I got you, okay? Just lay back and tell if you want to stop or something you want to do different” Charles said, a slight smirk on his lips

Max nodded softly “Yes” He whimpered softly

“Good boy” It flew past Charles’ lips before he could stop it, but when he saw how red Max’s whole body got, he didn’t want to take it back

Max was about to come back with a witty comment, but could only moan when Charles slowly pushed into him, stopping every few inches, letting Max adjust before he continued

Charles kissed along Max’s collarbone, feeling him loosen around his cock

“C-Char… Please” Max breathed out, trying to move against Charles, having no success to get any kind of friction

“Come on. Finish my name. I like how you say your S’” Charles chuckled, thrusting softly once, Max moaning softly

“Charles” Max gasped when Charles thrusted once again

Max had been insecure about his lisp forever ever since they were kids, and Charles had loved the way Max said his name just as long

Charles set a pace and rhythm that worked for him, and one Max didn’t have any problem with

Charles put a hand under Max’s body, angling his hips slightly so it was easier for Charles to hit his prostate, making Max moan loudly and chant his name like a prayer

“Charles- please- I need… I need to come, please” Max almost cried out, nails digging into Charles’ back

Charles wrapped his hand around Max’s neglected cock, stroking him at the same speed of his hips “Come for me, amour”

Max’s nails dug into Charles’ back so hard he was afraid he’d break his skin as he came, covering his own stomach and Charles’s hand with his cum

Charles slowed his hand and hips down, moaning Max’s name softly into his pale neck as he came himself

“I like your hair longer” Charles murmured, kissing Max’s shoulder softly as they sat in the bathtub, Charles’ hand on Max’s stomach, stroking his thumb over his skin

Max sighed “My dad-“

“Fuck what he thinks. He’s not your father. He’s a man who treats a child like a subject” Charles said softly, kissing Max’s cheek bone just under where his black eye shone ended

Max wanted to cry. Charles was right. Jos never treated him like a son. Maybe for the first few years, but when Max became competitive in karting, he became a subject

“Move in” Charles said, sensing Max wanted to change the subject “I don’t like you living somewhere he knows” Charles held Max closer “Please”

Max nodded softly “I will. I want nothing else… But, we’ll have to learn Sassy and Jimmy to be nice to Leo” He chuckled

[violynxmaeve]

Caitlyn kiramman, protective gf! Hc’s<3

[i wanna make this about insecure reader, or that you struggle mentally, i guess I’m making this for my own comfort and i hope you guys are okay with that, if you ever need any help then please reach out, you are not and will never be alone, love you - maeve <3]

She makes sure EVERYONE knows you are hers or that you are taken, if you two are out together she is not afraid to make it clear that you are with her no matter what, even at important events you are staying with her, she wants you to know and understand that she is with you no matter what.

If you are having a particularly bad mental health day, she will know immediately by the slight absence in your eyes, and how ‘slow’ you are in the mornings and will try and stay by your side the whole day but will give you A LOT of affection.

“Darling you can stay in bed, don’t push yourself, i know you’re struggling, it’s gonna be okay. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Anytime she has a break from work she will come and see you at your own job or at home, no matter where you are she will come and see you and give you a hug.

Physical affection is something she will always love, even if it’s by her giving you a hug or if you come and hug her randomly, it makes her so happy.

She does not get insecure about loving you or if you love her, she knows you do but if someone tries to flirt or talk with you in a ‘affectionate’ manner she will say to you how she feels and politely excuse you from the conversation.

“Darling i think it’s time for us to leave, don’t you agree?”

She makes it very clear on how she’s feeling, whether its about work or about how much she cares and loves you, she tells you, every. Single. Day.

She knows when you think too much or if you’re worrying about something and will wrap her hands around you and kiss your neck before asking politely whats wrong but its with authority, making it clear you can tell her.

“Sweetheart, whats going on inside that head of yours?”

If you’re going out on your own and say you will be back in an hour and you come 30 minutes or so later than you said she will stand at the front door with her eyebrows furrowed and her arms crossed, worrying about you, not that she doesn’t think your a capable person she just knows the dangers lurking, even after the war.

You are her home and comfort so if anything happens to you she goes a little insane.

Caitlyn tries to finish her work as quickly as possible so she isn’t home too late, she loves helping you get to sleep, or wind down for the night, its her therapy, reminding her that you are everything to her, no matter what.

If you two ever argue she will excuse herself, or will shut her mouth after a while and let you rant and yell at her.

After the argument she will give you space but if you try and ignore her whilst in bed getting ready to sleep she will pull you into her chest or onto her lap and make it clear she isn’t going anywhere but you both need to get over this.

“Honey i love you, and you know this but I’m not going to sit here and allow you to ignore me, so be a good girl and tell me what you need me to do to help you, mkay?”

She isn’t opposed to you being bratty or in a mood but if you push her a little too far she will have to say something, even if you are in your own little world.

“What’s going on with you today, love? Has someone said something to you or are you being like this for fun.”

Never talk bad about yourself, or well if you do she will give you a furrowed brow and a slight glare before pulling you into her embrace and telling you how much she cares and loves you, no matter what you look like or how you feel.

She honestly just loves you, a lot.

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 00

next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989. 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargeeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got seven of them, yes seven.

..

MARCH 21, 2019

I have to be at least somewhat proud of myself for lasting this long. I thought as I sat on the bus, not everyday you are born with magical powers and are destined to save the world from evil. Yes, hearing myself think that sounds crazy. But that's normal in my life.

I had reached my stop after a half an hour of sitting with my earbuds in, listening to nothing at all. I just wanted to seem unapproachable on the sketchy city bus.

My destination was a terribly designed office building, the space was so crammed and ugly it made me want to turn right back around and get on that bus again. But I didn't because I was trying to convince myself that this would be good for me, but I didn't believe my words.

I was about to have a therapy session with some middle-aged white lady who has glasses and tell her all of my life issues, starting every week at 5pm..

It's not like I had anything else going on, I haven't had work for days now. So I thought I'd give it a shot.

The waiting process made me anxious as hell, I finally got the courage to walk up to the front desk and gave the man who sat there my name. And now I have to wait for this lady to get done with some other patient.

I sat on a chair and frowned, like she is really going to be focused on "my" problems and not the 30 other people she sees today.

I swear it was only a second into me zoning out when I heard my name yelled. "Y/n L/n? It's so nice to meet you!" A woman said, when i looked up at her i saw the exact lady i was describing earlier to the closest details.

I let her lead me to a smaller room that looked way better than the lobby. It had two chairs, a water machine, some fidget items and a large window view of the city. Gloria, I learn to be the name of my therapist, asks me to sit with her.

She clears her throat, "I know this is our first session so you may not be the most comfortable sharing details. But I'd like to know a little bit about you if you're okay sharing."

“Well, I’m 29 years old and a home care nurse.” I say slowly. Hearing the words leave my mouth I knew I haven’t amounted to a lot in my years.

"Oh wow, 29? I would've never guessed that Y/n, you don't look a day over 21" Gloria complimented me i give her a tiny smile in return.

I'm not sure why that is, I get that a lot in my working field. Older women saying that they wished they looked as young as me.

"That's a great start for today's session." She smiles, "A little bit me is, you know my name already but I'm 56 years old since Monday. I have 3 children and a cat named Mr. Furball."

I regret what i said earlier because I think I already like Gloria and not just because of Mr. Furball. But the fact that she has a calming sense about her. I find myself listening to what she's saying, and I rarely do that with people nowadays.

"But I would like to hear more about your upbringing, how’d you become the fine young lady you are today?" She says.

Oh, she wants to hear about my childhood. I mean I knew she would ask but so soon, I'm worried about saying anything. So I told her that.

"I'm worried about opening up to someone about my past cause well I've never done it before." I said.

She hands me a cup of water. "That's okay Y/n, we can take it at your pace."

“I grew up in a small house with my mom and dad until I was twelve. When I was scouted by Reginald Hargreeves because of my unique abilities. And I've been there ever since I was 18 when I moved out to live on my own.” I waited for the burst of confusion I was about to get from Gloria. Not everyday one of the Umbrella Academy walks into your office.

“Oh wow…” she says, eyes wide. “You're one of those superheroes? That’s amazing wow.” She nervously chuckles “I’m sorry I’m normally not this shocked about things, and I hear a lot on the daily.”

“It’s okay” I say, staring at my hands.

She clears her throat. “I'm sure being apart of the Umbrella Academy was big but could you tell me about your life before that?”

I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, pictured my childhood in my brain and opened my mouth.

"Well, I'm sure to this day my father still thinks that my mother cheated on him, due to his "daughter's" virgin Mary-like creation since they were just newlyweds. He held it against my mother all of her life." I took a sip of water and continued.

"I'm not sure why he turned to alcohol. But that turned out as you could expect. He turned on everyone around him and acted like a beast. He regularly attacked my mom for anything she did wrong. But what made him more angry was that his freak of a daughter could heal her mother, after every beating."

"My mom told me before I left I had made her so much happier and in her words. She didn't even question these strange occurrences; she knew her baby was special." I smiled a bit.

I could tell that Gloria was painting a picture in her head of what I was describing too.

"And by the age of 8, I was standing up to my father, even if it didn't end so well. I'd get the beating instead but by the next day, my bloody body would be as good as new. On the surface at least, I had lots of internal issues from that time. But none of that stopped my father from trying to get equal with me.." I stopped talking after that.

My eyes could only focus on my right hand as it was picking at my left hand's skin. It was a habit I picked up as soon as I started to use my powers because I knew my skin would be right back to normal in the next few minutes.

"That's awful y/n I'm so sorry." She frowned. "Would you be okay with continuing?"

I blink up at her. “Yes, that would be okay,” I said. “Then there was this one day..”

..

17 YEARS AGO

“In five, four, three, two. This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for channel 2 News outside of the Capital West Bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.”

That was the big news update of September 2002, I remember. Well I don’t really have to think about it much because I was there with my mom at the bank. She planned on making some deposit when we were screamed at, not to leave by a man who had his gun pointed at us along with so many other civilians. He taped us up and told us to stand in a corner.

That was the first and only time I feared for my life. Police didn’t want them to start shooting, so they didn’t come into the building. Meaning that we were on our own and could die at anytime

One of the armed men walks into the scene unfolding. Sirens blaring, people getting shoved around and threats being made to the innocent.

“Now you’ve put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't want to do. Hmm?” He said talking to another person on his walkie talkie.

My mom brought me closer to her trying to use her body as a shield if things went south. And to us we thought they were about to be.

But strangely, a girl walked up to the man. She’d looked to be around my age in a school uniform and cartoon mask. Her loose curls bounced in the wind as she skipped up to him.

“Shit!” He screams putting his device down. Not noticing the girl until a few seconds after his outburst. “Hey, get back with the others.” He told her, trying to sound intimidating but she didn’t seem to fear him at all.

“I heard a rumor.” She spoke out.

He bent a little to reach her height and get in her face. “What? What did you say?”

She leaned in and cupped her hand to mimic whispering in his ear but loud enough for all of us to hear. “I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot.”

Without any hesitation he did what she commanded and shot the nearest armed man who happened to be trying to rough up my mom. We screamed as he kept shooting.

“We just heard shots from inside the bank. It’s uncertain if any hostages have been harmed in that.”

“There’s some movement on the roof. Possibly law enforcement.”

A loud crash and a boy landed down from the roof. It was crazy he wasn’t harmed at all from that high distance. He was also wearing the same mask and uniform as the girl but he had blond hair. From where he landed he jumped on one of the robbers and started beating him to a pulp, and then throwing him out a glass window.

“Looks like one of the armed robbers had been thrown from the bank.”

Another boy with brown hair runs in from the opposite doors as the girl and yells. “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” He then threw one of his knives and it curved in the air hitting a robber no where close to where the knife had originally been heading. It was incredible.

“I've been in many hostage situations like this, and it can escalate very quickly.”

The original man hops on a table pointing his gun out at the two of the before seen children plus another one. “Get back you freaks” he says walking back and forth in fear.

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” The knife boy calls out.

“Get back now!” The man screams.

“Yeah, I wouldn't want you to get hurt.” The girls mocking voice says.

Right before my eyes another boy teleports behind the man, sitting criss-cross on the table. “Or what?” He said calmly.

The man turns around and shoots at him but before the bullets could hit he teleports again. This time standing up with his arms crossed, clearly not impressed. But the man tries to shoot again.

“Ooh! That’s one badass stapler!” The boy laughs. The man no longer had a gun anymore but a stapler placed in his hand by the kid instead. The boy shoves the stapler into his face and the big man falls back, head hitting the floor before his body does.

“Although there’s been no activity for a few minutes, we’re gonna stay live on location to make sure we don’t miss a thing. In this hostage situation at the Capital West bank.”

The five already counted for children make way for the last and shortest one to make his move. “Do we really need to do this?” He talks quietly.

The blonde one replies to him. “Come on, Ben. There’s more guys in the vault.” So his name was Ben huh?

Ben sighs, “I didn't sign up for this.” Before walking into the room with more people. Large black tendrils illuminated the room as men screaming could be heard behind the door. And a beast roars but then the sound stops and Ben walks out again, this time covered in blood and guts.

He breathes heavily. “Can we go home now?” I felt bad for him.

The kids untied our hands and told us to run. And once it was clear to go my mom started to run out of the doors thinking I was right behind her.

“Now we see the hostages. They— They’re free. They’re scared clearly but they do seem to be unharmed.”

But I was behind her trying to help this older woman who’d slipped on the floor. As I was helping her, the kids walked out too.

“People are coming out now. It’s not the armed robbers. These are schoolchildren in uniforms with masks on. Jim Hellerman, Channel 2 News.”

But there was one not accounted for robber, the one from earlier who had been shot in the foot. I started to run out and call out to my mom who was outside. When the man got up from the floor, cocked his gun and shot at the kids.

Fortunately, he missed them but the bullet hit me.

Questions being asked to the children stopped when they saw my body flail onto the floor outside of the bank doors. I was shot right in the chest. There was blood everywhere and it started to leak over to where the kids were standing. They turned around to see where it was coming from..

Everyone looked horrified and there was a bunch of screaming. Mainly from my mother who was wailing as she ran over to hold me to her chest screaming for me to wake up. And that will be engraved in my memory forever after this day, I never wanted to hear her like this ever again.

Police started to rush over but in a matter of minutes, a miracle seemed to happen. At least to the city that is. There was a yellowish glow around my chest and the blood seemed to have reversed back into my body. Even the stains on my blue dress were gone. The bullet even spit out of my chest; it was truly witchcraft.

My eyes then shot open as I started to breathe in and out.

I don't exactly remember what I felt during those moments but I'm sure I left those people around me stunned. After all this was their first look at powers.

I couldn't care what the paramedics were talking about above my body. I was focused on the 6 children looking at me bewildered as well as the old-looking man with them and whatever my mom was saying at the time.

I was put on a stretcher and rushed to a hospital for evaluations after the pandemics came but they never found anything. It was like everything was perfectly reattached.

But as I was leaving I could see the news reporters zeroing in on the kids trying to get the details on how these children saved the bank from thievery.

“Our world is changing.” The man spoke to the crowd. “Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary.” He said looking back at the children. But they weren’t paying attention, some were staring at my ambulance and some eyes were on the ground.

“I have adopted seven such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

I now realize thinking back, the seventh person he was talking about was me..

..

PRESENT DAY

My mouth felt like it was moving faster than my brain so I took a pause and chugged the rest of my water cup.

Once again Glorias eyes were wide open. As she took some notes down in a notebook I never noticed beyond this point.

"Uh once I got home I remember the house phone noise filled my house with its nonstop ring, the other person on the phone would change my life forever when he came in.”

“And who was that person?" Gloria asked.

"Reginald Hargeeves, eccentric billionaire and caring father from what the public knew.." I rolled my eyes.

"So I'm guessing it wasn't really like that" she asked carefully.

"He was never a father really, more like a hard state-national basketball coach." She wrote that down.

"I guess it was a hard decision for my parents to make well, my mother. My father was ready to give me up as soon as Reginald stepped foot in my small house."

"And I'm sure they thought there was nothing bad about the offer they were given, he promised I'd be raised in a steady environment with the best schooling and my powers would be used for the greater good. And in exchange, my parents would get a large sum of money for my absence."

"What were you doing during this?" Gloria worried.

"I think I was just sitting right there next to my mom actually. I definitely didn't understand at that point what was happening to me. Still thinking about the events of that day.”

"And then I was being taken out of my only home in the blink of an eye. I resisted the people taking me, starting with screaming and then kicking and then running. Back to my mom's arms, Reginald himself had to pull me away from her. The deal had already been struck and there was no taking me back."

Now looking back at my hands I could only see small teardrops on my palms. Gloria reached for a tissue from the other side of the room. "Thank you," I said as I wiped my eyes.

"I like to think that my mom was upset that day but the memory has already started to fade as I reached adulthood.

You know after that day I was no longer 'Y/n L/n' no, I was known by my new name.. Zero Hargeeves."

..

I decided that was the end of my story, at least for now because I couldn't place the pieces together anymore. I was full-on sobbing at that point.

Gloria decided to bring up something more light to talk about next but I don't remember what it was because I'd zoned out and thought about the cat she'd told me about earlier.

The two hours seemed to fly by because the last thing I heard her say was if I didn't have anything else to talk about then that would be the end of the session. My legs seemed to move on their own as I walked out of that building. I would come back at the same time next week and honestly, I think therapy was for the best. I forgot about how I felt about all these things for the longest time.

I started the journey back to the bus stop, stopping to look in the windows of shops.

Shops like bakeries and bookstores and other things like that. Until I came to a stop in front of a store with a TV sticking out in the window.

My eyes scanned the screen and they went wide. The lady on the news had a somber expression as someone died. I was feeling sad for the person's family, but then I read the red-blaring headline.

The person who died was Reginald Hargeeves...

...

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[twodimensionalboyfriend]

Sick </3

wc: ~1.3k read time: ~5 minutes

༉‧₊˚.¸♡ master list✧ '*•༉

cw: fluff! smooches here and there i guess! gn throughout! also not proofread lol

I have fucking covid!! my bones are on fire!!!

on a serious note, i have never been sick like this before in my life, i had the worst skin and joint aches i'd ever had in my life and my head felt like it was going to explode with pressure and my ears are still fuckin clogged. so anyways im gonna project my problems into this fic in the order in which i experienced them as a form of therapy and if anybody else is out there sick rn, i hope you have a jason todd to make it bearable!

On a silly note, I met a stray cat in the neighborhood the other day but she's been spayed! im hoping this is the cat distribution system at play

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you groaned.

You're sitting on the couch trying to convince your boyfriend that you're not sick. It's just allergies! Allergies that come with body aches, pressure in your head, and now a fever.

Jason showed you the thermometer, "Dude, you're running at 100.1..."

You looked at the thermometer incredulously, "Isn't that thing super old? I mean how do we even know it still works? Take it again."

Jason sighed and scanned your forehead again, "Babe, we bought this a couple months ago." He glared at you as he showed you the thermometer again, which now read 100.2.

"Tch, that's barely even a fever," you said rolling your eyes.

"That's it. You're going on bed rest."

"Woah, what?? Jason, I told you I'm fine! Besides I have so much to do today. We need groceries, I have a prescription to pick up, there are so many dishes in the sink, I have laundry to fold and I have work this evening. A little cold isn't... what are you doing?" You cut yourself off as you saw Jason typing on his phone.

"Thanks for the to-do list! While you rest, I'll go and get this done. Grocery list is on the fridge and our pharmacy is in the store, so text me if you need anything else. I am more than capable of doing dishes and laundry, so you don't have to worry about that. And I love you, but you're crazy if you think you're going into work tonight. Text your boss a picture of the thermometer and call out. Or I'll do it for you, whatever you prefer."

"Ar-Are you sure? I mean it's..." You trailed off. You really did feel like shit and it's not like you necessarily wanted to do these errands and chores. After a moment of thinking, you sighed and relented, "Okay, fine, only if you're completely sure you can handle it."

"(Y/N), I'm an adult. If I couldn't do laundry, you should be worried about me." You tried to laugh a little, but it quickly snowballed into a coughing fit, "Woah woah, take it easy. I'm gonna take the list and go to the store. Again, text me if you need anything or if you just wanna say hi," he said with a smile.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you whispered, "Thank you, Jason. I love you very much."

"I love you too, I'll be back soon."

--------

The front door swung open and Jason's voice rang through your shared apartment, "Honey, I'm home!"

You couldn't have gotten up if you tried. You're sickly moan from the couch alarmed Jason, and he dropped the groceries and ran to your side.

You were lying on the couch in your spiderman sweats and a hoodie; your arms draped over your eyes to block out the white lights from the kitchen that added to your headache. Your entire body ached like it never has before. The sight squeezed Jason's heart. "Oh, honey," he said sympathetically, pressing his hands to your cheeks, "Woah, you are burning up! Hang on." He snatched the thermometer from the coffee table and tested his partner. The screen lit up red. It read 101.7.

You mumbled, "H-Holy shit..." It was a bit too much to talk right now.

"Okay babe, I got you some chicken noodle soup because that's what Alfred always made us, and I don't quite have his cooking skills--and this is, uh from a uh... a can--but I'm gonna make some for you, and that should hopefully make you feel better," he looked at you with worry. "Then would you want to watch Pride & Prejudice while I folded the laundry? The movie obviously, since you like it. Even though the show is better," he grumbled at the end.

God damn it. You were crying again.

You were experiencing so many different emotions you didn't really know what else to do. You loved Jason so much and felt so much gratitude for the way he was taking care of you. As if there was nothing else he could possibly be doing right now other than be here. This is on top of the fact that you've been in agony for the past hour as you got worse and worse; and you were really tired of feeling that way.

This shocked and scared Jason, "I'm sorry!! The movie isn't that bad! I just like that the show's more accurate to the book! Also, when Lizzie runs through the rain, why does she grab a soaking wet cloth from the very same rain storm to dry her hair?! I'm sorry I just--"

"I love you so much," you croaked out. "I also feel like fucking garbage."

This put Jason at ease and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm sorry you feel like shit, sweetheart. I do this because I love you too. Like, a lot. Now stop talking and spare your voice. Let's get you cozy and hopped up on vitamin C, and we'll just take it easy."

-----------------

The next morning, you woke up. You sat up slowly and realized most of the pressure in your head is gone. Your body no longer felt like it was on fire! Definitely still congested though. You also realized you fell asleep on the couch after the first proposal, yet you were currently sitting in your bed. Jason must've brought you in. Suddenly, a sneeze crept up and exploded out of you. Then another. Then one more. Jesus, that hurt your chest.

Your fit was loud enough to let Jason know you had woken up. He came into the room holding a spatula. The opened door let in a sweet smell and a sizzling sound. "How are you feeling, baby?" He walked towards you.

"Well I can bear to be conscious, so I'd say much better. What's going on in the kitchen?"

He pressed his hand to your forehead and said, "Pancakes! And lots of orange juice. I don't think you’re in the clear yet. Sit tight; I'm gonna get the thermometer and take your temperature."

Ignoring his request, you got up to meet him in the living room. You stepped out of the bedroom and was met with the sight of Jason discarding the pancake that had burned due to his doting. He saw you walking towards him and urged you to go back to bed, "Go back! I'm gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Pancakes, juice, fruit, the whole shebang."

"No it's okay, let me be out here with you. I'd kiss you good morning, but I fear I might poison you and get you sick."

Jason stole a quick kiss, much to your surprise, "I spent all night with you. If I were to get it, I don't think a kiss would be what seals my fate. You're plate is ready, by the way."

He handed you a plate stacked with 3 pancakes and a butter slice, drizzled in maple syrup with strawberries and whipped cream. It was beautiful, "Oh my god, Jason, that's so gorgeous I don't think I can eat it." Your stomach growled and promptly gave away your true feelings.

"Tear it up, baby girl."

You sat down as Jason finished making his stack. He sat down with you and you both began eating. Pre-packaged pancake mix has never tasted so good.

"Thank you for nursing me back to health, Jason. You've made this past few days in unbearable hell feel more like a manageable limbo."

He laughed, "What else was I supposed to do? Let the love of my life suffer?"

"God I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you in my life."

"Well, fortunately, you'll never have to." He leaned over the table and pressed a syrupy kiss to your lips.

if there are an content warnings you think i missed, please tell me so!! i’ll add them to this post and remember to add them to future ones!! :) ♡ ♡

and pls pls like and reblog and reply!! literally if you interact i will kiss you on the mouth