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areyouwell · 3 days ago

Text

In Tuto Esse

Ch.4

Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <-

Warnings: None

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Word Count: 14k

A/N: so this was ready sooner than i thought it would be. but then again if i did everything i wanted to in this chapter it would probably be one of the longest ones i've ever written soooooo sometimes you just gotta snap the chapter plans in two <3

Taglist: @speeedybaby @ltristessedureratoujours @froggieeez @ayamenimthiriel @daddyslittlevillain @chubbyhedgehog @marifilue @galacticglitterglue @salemslostwitch @m1cky-y-y

What an absolute whirlwind the last few days had been. The last few weeks, Logan supposed as he fixed himself a strong cup of coffee, savouring the brief moment of silence, listening to the sound of boiling water sloshing into the mug, the comforting, burnt aroma rising like smoke from the beverage. He’d taken you back. Of course he had. How could he not? You’d taken a bullet for a child you didn’t even know. You’d saved her life at the expense of your own. Well, almost. That was still up for debate as you currently lay motionless beneath the school, hooked up to various machinery to make sure you didn’t actually give your life for little Wildling, despite Jean’s protests.

“How did you find us?” He asked frantically, cradling your limp body against his chest as he all but ran with you to the Blackbird, Wildling a few steps ahead, turning around now and then to make sure he was following. Jean had fallen into step next to him, glancing down from your pale form to Logan’s panic-stricken distraught with no small degree of suspicion.

“Charles was keeping tabs on you, knew the moment everything went south. What were you trying to accomplish?” she asked savagely, ducking as she lunged up the ramp and into the hold, waving her hand to send various duffle bags and parafanalia flying to the sides. “And who’s this?” She continued, gesturing to the little girl running around the floor, pushing what she could to the side, as little as it was.

“No clue, we call her Wildling.” Logan panted, setting you down on the steel before instantly cradling the wound in your side. He was losing you. He could hear it in the weakness of your pulse, the frigid feeling of your skin, the pallour of your face. He was losing you.

“We? Who the hell is we?”

“Us. Me and Alec. We don’t know the kid’s name and we don’t know if she can talk so we call her Wildling now please, help her.” He begged, finally looking from your fading visage up to Jean, his brows creasing in obvious fear. “Please…”

Jean hesitated, once again glancing between the two of you, before crouching down next to your dull hair, her hands hovering over your body and closing her eyes, grimacing slightly as she took in the state of your whittling life.

“Logan…”

“Don’t.”

“She’s not gonna–”

“Just fuckin’ help her, Jean. Do whatever the hell it is you gotta do, but don’t let her die. Don’t you dare let her die.” He snapped, taking your cold hand in his own, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles as if it could bring you back. Grief wrapped its bony claws around his throat, lacerations of loss-borne barbed wire ensnared his heart. He could feel you slipping, like sand through his fingers, he could feel you ebbing away. Fuck.

“There’s a bullet lodged in her gut, and I don’t know if I can pull it out without causing more harm,” Jean explained, Wildling peering at her curiously before scrunching her nose up tightly and bounding over to be back by Logan’s side, looking down at you with hopeless prayers.

“Will she die if it’s left in?” Logan asked, still running his thumb over your knuckles.

“Likely yes. Even if she recovers from the wound, the lead poisoning would kill her.” The redhead continued, not even turning to look as Kitty turned back from her seat pilot’s seat, her eyes widening as she saw just what the hell was going on, too focussed on getting the Blackbird back in the air to listen to the conversation properly.

“Wait… is that–”

“It is,” Jean responded curtly before Kitty could even say your name.

“And we’re trying to save her because…?”

“Ask Logan.” Once again her words were sharp, before she fell into deep concentration, her fingers flexing slightly as she tried to navigate the bullet from your body, while keeping your body functioning. Logan dully admitted how impressive it was, before his focus was entirely back to you, absently placing a comforting hand on Wildling’s shoulder. You didn’t know the effects you had on the people around you. It was clear to see how oblivious you were to it. And he’d be fucking damned if you died before he could tell you.

He slowly, hesitantly looked up to where Kitty had placed the jet on autopilot, fully turning in her seat to face him, her gaze curiously expectant. Wildling looked between the two of them, her ears twitching slightly as she sensed the tension in the room. But he didn’t have an explanation for her. He really didn’t. How could he explain that after the last day or so, he’d completely changed his tune? He needed you alive. What for, he didn’t know, but he knew that letting you die here wasn’t an option.

He just didn’t know how to put that into words.

A sickening crunch caught his attention, dragging his gaze from Kitty back to your wound, where, much to his alarm, incarnadine flowed from your side, swiftly followed by a slick, gore-coated bullet. He wished he could feel relieved. He wished he could feel anything other than deathly fear as the bullet floated from your body to the side, clinking against the ground. But it was out. It was out. Maybe you’d be okay. Maybe you’d survive this.

Maybe…

“Shit… shit shit!” Jean exclaimed, her eyes screwed tight as she concentrated harder on maintaining your life. “Kitty how far out are we?!” She called back, Logan’s heart racing in his chest.

“Five minutes, think you can hold her til then?” She shouted back, spinning back to face forward, taking back controls to push the Blackbird to its limits. Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he leaned over to cup the cold side of your neck, your pulse barely thumping against his fingertips.

“C’mon freakshow, you got so much to do. Think of ‘em. Think of those kids, just like you. You gotta help ‘em. Don’t you fucking dare give up now. You gotta fight, Alec. You still got so much fight in you. Use it.” He urged, not particularly caring if you could hear him or not. He knew nothing got you more fired up than injustice. Than the bullshit the MSR put mutants through. If anything would keep you alive, keep you fighting, it was thinking about that.

‘I’m so tired, Logan…’

Your words rang in his head, repeating like a broken record. You sounded shattered, fragile like glass in his arms, slicing his heart with your words. You’d done so much, suffered so much, and it still wasn’t enough for you. You were so scared of not making a difference that you were willing to risk it all, leave in the dead of night and track down hundreds of mutants alone.

But you didn’t have to be alone. Not anymore. You’d come to him for help, and somehow you’d wriggled your way through his defences and nestled yourself in his chest. He couldn’t let you go.

He wouldn’t.

“We’re nearly there. Just hold on for me. Just hold on,” He implored, whispering your name and smoothing your brow with his thumb, Wildling coming up next to him to clumsily repeat the gesture, careful of her claws against your skin. He would have found it endearing if he could focus on anything other than the fact you were dying.

“Just hold on…”

That was three days ago, and your status has been up in the air ever since. Hank had helped Jean with your recovery, bandaging your wound and in true creepy scientist fashion, acquiring a vial of your blood for studying. Nobody had been permitted to see you, not even him, and it was driving him crazy. Knowing you were a few feet below him, fighting for your life, whilst he was up above, making himself cups of coffee and smoking himself into an early grave. At least, that’s what would happen, if he could die. He’d managed to distract himself well enough, keeping tabs on little Wildling as she settled into her new environment, calmly explaining why scratching up other kids is bad, and playing nicely with them was good. He understood her, possibly more than anyone else possibly could. She had the instincts of an animal, much like him, exhibiting cat-like behaviours when she believed she was being threatened, or someone went a little too far in whatever game they were playing.

He’d learnt that she could retract her mutation too, but simply chose not to. He’d only seen her without her little ginger tail and pointed canines once, and that was after a fight with one of the other kids where she’d quite badly harmed them. Her guilt forced her to retreat into her new room, pushing down her instincts and hiding her mutation before Logan had to borderline break down the door to get to her. Why oh why the kids’ rooms had locks on them, he’d never understand, but it was heartbreaking in and of itself that she knew how to use it, and understood that it would make her feel safe. How many times had she had to do that in her life?

How many times had you?

“You’re up early…”

A honeyed voice broke the silence, and Logan looked up from where he’d been staring into his coffee. He turned to the doorway where Jean stood, her hand braced on the wooden frame, looking at him with a gaze softer than he’d ever experienced before. It made his insides twist.

“Yeah, well, couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged, offering no further explanation. He knew how she felt about having you here, and it didn’t seem to matter how well he retold the story of what happened that night, she never seemed to understand why he’d bring you here. It was a frustrating, repetitive conversation that drove him mad.

“You haven’t been sleeping at all, Logan. Not since you got back.” She prodded lightly, taking a few steps further into the kitchen, a hand braced loosely on her hip. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged again. “Nothin’ much. Never was a good sleeper.”

Jean narrowed her eyes, sighing heavily. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out because my opinion differs from yours. She’s dangerous, Logan. Extremely dangerous. Did you forget why we went after her in the first place? Did you forget the scenes of those murders? The savagery?” She attempted to explain gently, but her light tone only fuelled his frustration further, his hand tightening around his mug.

“If she’s so damn dangerous then why did she throw herself in the path of a bullet to save a kid she barely knew?” He countered with gritted teeth. “You don’t know her, Jean. You know what was on that slideshow and that’s it, you don’t–”

“Neither do you. I know it probably feels like you do, but you don’t. You don’t know somebody after spending twenty-four hours with them.” Her brows pinched in infuriating understanding, and not so long ago he would have fallen at her feet with just one of those looks. Now it made him want to punch through walls.

“We’re not having this conversation again.” He stated curtly, tensing his jaw to stop himself from lashing out. Jean sighed again, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear.

“You know she can’t stay.” Though her words were quiet, they were laced with more venom than he’d expect from her. “She’s a killer, Logan ––a serial killer, in fact. And you brought her to the school. With kids. You brought a serial killer here and expect us to help her out?” He could tell she was getting irate, her tone pitching at the end of her question, leaning both hands against the table as if she could implant the very idea into his brain.

Actually, she probably could.

“I was a killer too and you took me in.” He stated flatly, and Jean blinked, any frustration in her face ebbing away as she skirted around the table, placing a hand on his arm.

“You were different. You were helping Marie when we found you.”

“Alecto was helping Wildling. How is it different?” He countered, fighting the urge to swipe her hand off his arm, her touch cold, calculated. Almost manipulative.

“You called her something different on the jet. Her name isn’t Alecto, is it?” She asked, raising a thin brow as she caught him out.

“The hell does it matter?” He hissed, defensive walls erecting in his mind, cautious of her prodding and poking around his brain. You’d told him your name in confidence ––a whispered word in the dark, like a lover’s farewell. You’d told him your story. Perhaps not all of it, but you’d still found enough trust in him to divulge what you could. He’d be damned if he’d betray your trust like that.

“It doesn’t, I’m just curious.” Her eyes hardened as she stepped back, removing her hand from his arm. Had she seen? Had she seen what had happened between you? The shared passion beneath the blanket of loneliness. A bubble of secure pleasure created by the yearning to not just survive but to live. Could she sense his shift? The sudden wholeness of his heart. The new protective nature simmering just beneath his calm façade. And if she could, why did she look like she despised it?

“Good. Stay curious. And stay the hell outta my head, Jean. I mean it. Don’t wanna have to tell you again.” He growled, and Jean drew up slightly, her jaw tense, gaze fiery.

“Is that a threat?”

“Does it have to be?” He retorted, blood pumping in his veins as if he was ready to jump into a fight. Never did he imagine having to fight Jean. Never did he think there would be a time when he didn’t crave her attention. When he couldn’t stand being around her. The flip gave him whiplash, and he exhaled all the tension in his bones, raking a hand through his hair. “Sorry, ‘m just real tired. I’ll be alright in a few days.” He breathed, leaning against the counter.

The tension fled from the room as Jean’s eyes softened, her lips pulling into an understanding smile. “I get it. But don’t take too long. I miss the old you.” She whispered, and Logan’s heart reluctantly skipped a beat. Fuck, he was so confused. He thought he was over this. Thought he’d moved on from her, but now she wasn’t trying to pry into his mind, and it didn’t seem like she was playing games with him. The look in her eyes was one of genuine loss, and it messed with his head. Her hand returned to his arm, and he didn’t feel that same urge to pull away when she squeezed slightly, before turning away to leave him to his thoughts.

‘I miss the old you.’

The old him. He thought she didn’t like the old him. The version of him that would skip town at a moment’s notice. The version of him that pined after her like a lost puppy, begging for any scrap of attention she’d throw his way. Was it him she missed, or the way he made her feel wanted? The way he made her feel desirable. Was she being genuine, or was she just really fucking good at lying? Christ, this was a nightmare.

And on top of everything else, he still didn’t know just what the hell was going on with you and him. Because that was still a conversation that needed to be had. Was that just sex? Or was there something more there? You were extremely hard to read, your guarded expression a constant mask, he never knew what you were thinking. Did you feel what he was feeling? The slight pull at his heart whenever you were near. The gentle curiosity that maybe this could be something? Was that even possible? Could there be something?

Too many questions. Too many damn questions for seven in the morning. The sun had barely risen and his head had already been fucked with. Usually, the ‘old him’ would have just left. Stolen Scott’s bike and headed out god knows where for god knows how long. The freedom that came with not giving a damn. But now he did. And it scared the fuck out of him. But wasn’t that the him that Jean missed?

Logan groaned against the oncoming headache throbbing just behind his eyes. This was too complicated. Everything was too damn complicated. Why did you have to waltz into his life? With your endless fire and snippy attitude. Your yearning for freedom born of tragedy. Why oh why did you have to go ask him for help? Couldn’t you have asked Scott? Or Ororo? Why did it have to be him? Why did you get him mixed up in this twisted web of blood-soaked passion? Because he was well and truly stuck, and he couldn’t find the willpower to struggle.

And like a light in the darkness, Wildling came bounding through the door, leaping onto the table, her tail swishing like a metronome, eyes wide as saucers as she tracked every micro-movement he made. Just like that, his turmoil was shoved to the side, lips quirking in a fond smile as the kid’s ears flickered, her claws scratching into the table’s wooden surface. What did Marie call it? Zoomies? As if this kid didn’t have enough energy, every now and then she’d race through the mansion, bouncing off furniture, ducking and diving under tables and between chair-legs like she was chasing a rat. Usually in the middle of the night, when the rest of the occupants were dead asleep. He’d usually be the one to emerge from his room at the shattering of a vase or breaking of a glass, picking up the pieces and taking her out into the gardens so she could work off some of that energy.

It was exhausting but adorable, so he did it anyway.

He raised a brow, slowly placing down his completely untouched mug of coffee, knowing exactly what came next. And like clockwork, Wildling's butt wiggled slightly, before she pounced, claws outstretched, her canines glinting in the lights when her lips split into a feral grin. This had become a well-rehearsed tradition, Logan remaining still until the last possible moment before his arms shot out and caught her in mid-air, caging her against his chest for her to wiggle free. Claws met skin as she laughed in delight, ripping through his shirt as she clawed her way to freedom, sinking her teeth into his bicep. He didn’t mind. It was nothing more than a tickle to him, and if she was enjoying herself, then what was the harm?

Wildling scrambled up to his shoulders, writhing from his hold as he fought to drag her back down. Her resulting hiss held no heat, her bare feet slipping on the fabric of his singlet in various vain attempts to crawl up onto his head. A fatal mistake. With reflexes she wasn’t expecting, Logan snatched onto her ankle, dragging her from his shoulders to dangle her from his grip, her squeals of delight bouncing off the empty walls of the kitchen, little hands swiping and flailing as she attempted to bend up to latch onto his wrist. He huffed a chuckle when she managed to swing herself up, sinking her claws into his wrist to upright herself.

“You two seem to be getting along well.”

An oh so familiar voice shattered the playful atmosphere, both Logan and Wildling whipping their heads to the opposite doorway, his heart stopping in his chest.

You were here. You were okay. Not only that, but you were walking around freely…

You looked a little worse for wear, your hair mussed and slightly matted, complexion still a little pallid with dark circles contouring your eyes and a white bandage wrapped around the left side of your face, but you were here.

“You’re okay…” he breathed, gently setting Wildling down on the floor, the girl tilting her head as she looked at you, eyes wide with awe. He couldn’t articulate the relief he felt, the overwhelming sense of calm seeing you alive. But you couldn’t possibly be fully healed yet. Your mutation didn’t work like that. How much pain were you currently in just standing, let alone wandering the school’s halls. “Shit are you– do you wanna sit? How’re you–”

“I’m fine, Logan. Well, as fine as I can be with this bullshit on my wrist…” you held up your hand for emphasis, and the very blood in his veins ran cold. He knew what that was. He’d seen that very same technology on the necks of all those mutants held captive.

It was a suppressant. Not a huge one, but enough to slow your mutation to the point you could barely manipulate a single drop of blood. It felt like your insides had been stuffed into a box, held under lock and key. Uncomfortably full without the opportunity for release. Everything felt slow, sluggish, and it was a feeling you knew like the back of your hand. It had taken a lot of deep, calming breaths to stop your heart from beating straight out of your chest when you woke up shackled to a bed, the fucking suppressant clasped around your wrist like a manacle. But you didn’t need your mutation to pick a lock. Just a small enough blade, which luckily, whoever had been looking after you left lying on a small medical table right next to your bed.

Sometimes the fates really did shine in your favour. But only after shitting in your dinner.

“The fuck…?” He growled, crossing the kitchen to take your wrist in his hand, turning it over in his palm to examine the bracelet. “Why the fuck would they do this?” He looked from your wrist up to your face, suddenly struck with a bolt of lightning as he saw you completely raw. No makeup, no ebony mask, just you. Your hair hung limp, you looked as if you hadn’t slept in three weeks.

Holy fuck you were gorgeous.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a dangerous serial killer with a thirst for human blood. Surprised it’s taken you this long to realise it,” you offered him a grin that didn’t quite meet your eyes. You looked defeated, that same expression you wore the night everything went wrong when you realised all your hard work may have been for nothing. It burned him to see it. The feeling of the bracelet on your wrist only fueled his barely contained rage. “I’m glad to see you’re both okay,” you whispered in a rare moment of vulnerability, and it took all of Logan’s self-control not to cup the side of your face in comfort. “I didn’t–”

Your eyes flew wide open, words caught in your throat as you snatched your hand away from his, arms locking tight by your sides. It was only when you started hovering a few feet off the ground did it register in his brain that it might not actually be you doing this. He locked his gaze with yours, your brows pinching as you gasped for breath, completely powerless.

“Logan step back. Now.” Jean barked, her eyes fixed on you, her hand outstretched as Scott filed in behind her, fingers poised on his sunglasses as if ready to strike. Logan gaped in utter incomprehensible bafflement.

“The fuck ‘re you doin’?” He spat, completely ignoring Jean’s command and instead stepping between you and the assailants, blocking whatever beam Scott was ready to unleash.

“She broke out. She fucking escaped and started wandering around the school. There are fucking kids here, Logan. And now a notorious serial killer is just walking amongst them. How can you not see that?” Scott spat, his other hand clenched into a fist as he prepared himself for whatever fight was about to ensue.

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind? How dangerous can she be with that fuckin’ thing around her wrist? She’s defenseless, Scott!” He barked back, little Wildling bounding up to crouch next to him, her teeth bared in a completely different snarl to the one from before when she was just playing.

“Yeah? Tell that to Hank who’s currently lying unconscious on the same table she was recovering on.”

Logan blinked, taking a moment to turn back to you with an incredulous look. But you simply snarled, your eyes as animalistic and feral as Wildling’s. He knew that if you didn’t have that suppressant, they’d both be dead. Or knocked out, at least.

“Let her go, Jean.” He hissed, his tone taking on a dangerous lilt.

“Logan–”

“Now.”

Surprisingly enough, after a shared look of suspicion between the two of them, Jean loosened her grip on you, and you crumpled to your knees, breathing hard against the sudden release of tension. Wildling raced to your side, her little hands clutching your arm at while Logan crouched next to you, his own hand settling on your shoulder.

“Y’alright?” He murmured, wary of the two pairs of eyes watching the interaction between the two of you. You grit your teeth, staring unblinkingly at the floor momentarily, before pushing yourself back up to your feet, viciously shrugging off hit touch and even snatching your arm away from Wildling.

“I’m fine.” You bit, trying your fucking best not to bend double again in pain, the wound in your side screaming at all the movement. You’d injected yourself with 5mg of morphine to numb the pain before you’d started wandering around, but even that wasn’t quite enough to stem the searing agony from your wound.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Scott accused, taking a step ahead of Jean as if to shield her from whatever attack you may be planning.

“If you’d just give her a chance to explain–” Logan started before you interjected.

“I don’t have to explain anything to these chucklefucks. Just get this fucking bracelet off me so I can leave.” Your voice dripped venom, eyes glaring daggers at his two colleagues, and Logan found himself stuck in the middle. He had loyalties to them, of course he did. They’d fought side by side enough times for him to trust the two of them implicitly on the battlefield, but he knew your situation. He knew your story. And if you would just give each other a damn chance, maybe they’d see you the way he did.

Although, maybe not exactly the way he did. Even he didn’t know about that.

“And the moment we take that off, we’re all dead. So no.” Scott retaliated, and it was a strange feeling for Logan to suddenly be the mediator in an argument, rather than one of the contestants.

“Everyone just take a breath and calm down.” He breathed, trying it on himself before he expected the others to do it too. Even Wildling took a deep breath, though her tail was still puffed up and flicking like mad, her ears flattened against her hair. And though you didn’t relax your glare, he watched as your muscles stopped tensing so much, your stance straightening out from the slight crouch you’d prepared yourself with. It was only then that Scott took his fingers away from his glasses, folding his arms across his chest.

“What the hell is this…?”

You whipped around, your chest constricting as you found yourself cornered, another mutant with bright white hair cautiously entering the kitchen, her perceptive eyes flickering from Jean and Scott, to Logan and you, before her expression dawned with recognition. “Who let her out?!”

“Nobody, she escaped,” Scott explained oh so helpfully. Logan shoved down the instinct to punch him in the face.

“She escaped?!” Ororo exclaimed in accusation, her eyes narrowing at Logan. “Was this you?”

“How the hell could this’ve been me, you haven’t let me near the damn elevator, let alone in the med bay!” He countered, wary of your increasing heart rate and breathing. He turned to where you’d backed yourself into a corner, your eyes wild with fight or flight. “It’s okay… they’re not gonna hurt ya.”

“Wasn’t Hank supposed to be looking after her?” Ro continued, looking to Jean and Scott for further explanation.

“Yeah well, he’s currently unconscious in the med bay. Turns out she doesn’t need her mutation to be just as dangerous.” Jean narrowed her eyes as she spoke, a knife rack moving across the counter just as you made a reach for it. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Not gonna hurt me, huh?” You hissed sarcastically, and Logan shot you a withering look that simply said ‘You’re not helping.’

He took a step back toward you as the other took steps forward, hearing your heart thundering in your chest, it broke his own. This was somewhere you were supposed to feel safe, and yet this was the most scared he’d ever seen you. He’d promised you they’d take you in. They’d look after you. He’d look after you. But this was nothing like how he’d imagined these introductions going. However he didn’t know why he’d expected any different.

Before a stroke of genius came to him in a single moment.

“Jean, c’mon. You didn’t save her life for nothin’, right?”

That made the room freeze. He guessed she hadn’t told anyone what happened on the jet ––hadn’t told anyone how you were alive because of her. And from the look of betrayal on Scott’s face, and utter shock on Jean’s, this was the perfect moment to bring it up.

“You saved her life?”

“What the hell possessed you to do that?”

There was a chorus of confused accusations, but over the din he could sense you settle a little, hesitancy shifting your demeanour as you blinked.

“You saved my life? Why…?” Though your voice sounded small, it was as if you could stop time. The whole room focused on you again, and it was Jean’s turn to huff in frustration.

“Logan asked me to.” She said by way of explanation, and your gaze shifted from the redhead back to him, conflict raging in your eyes. He offered you a small, knowing smile with a slight shrug.

“Couldn’t let ya die, freakshow. Not after you saved her life.” He nodded to Wildling who was peering up at you with nothing but awestruck gratitude, her wide eyes glittering with a sense of wonder you’d only seen once before. On someone else. It made your heart clench.

“Oh, so she has a nickname now?” Scott slashed the sweet moment in half, and the room returned to fighting amongst themselves.

“Everyone gets a nickname, Slim.”

“Why don’t I have a nickname?”

“Haven’t thought of one yet.” Logan shrugged dismissively to Ororo, who was all but pouting at the realisation she didn’t have a nickname from Logan.

“I don’t think you should say mine out loud…” Jean confessed though the corner of her lips quirked into a barely concealed smirk, causing Scott to scoff loudly.

“Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

It was all you could do just watch the carnage, ensuing chaos you didn’t even cause. And remarkably, you felt all the tension in your body melt away at the realisation that these people weren’t as dangerous as you initially thought they were, and they sure as shit weren’t as threatening. You huffed a single chuckle, before another one bubbled from your chest, and it was a few moments before you were genuinely laughing, eyes screwed shut, head thrown back laughter. Wildling looked up at you with visible concern that you were losing your mind, but you couldn’t stop. Tears lined your eyes as you clutched your stomach, the pain from your side doing nothing to quell your amusement.

“You guys should start a sitcom, seriously. This shit is gold.” You managed to breathe, clutching the countertop for support as you finally regained control of your relentless giggling. “Sorry, sorry. I know the moment is very serious and everything, but there’s a ‘notorious serial killer’ standing in your kitchen and you’re all arguing over nicknames!” You implored them to see the hilarity of the situation, to which they all fell into contemplative silence, only Logan seemed to be looking at you, his eyes bright with something you couldn’t quite interpret.

“Yeah, well… this ‘notorious serial killer’ doesn’t seem as dangerous as we once thought…” Scott admitted begrudgingly, and you chortled again, snorting a laugh through your nose.

“That’s just what happens when you collar a beast,” you rolled your eyes, holding up your wrist for emphasis, still finding this whole situation ridiculous. “But, now that introductions are out of the way, how about we discuss getting this thing off me, hm?” You raised a brow, and Logan’s chest inflated with pride. You weren’t lashing out how he’d expected you to. In fact, you’d managed to set the whole room at whatever ease was possible simply by laughing at them. You were constantly going on about the trouble your mouth got you into, but he guessed you never realised how good it was at getting you out of trouble too.

You really did only acknowledge your own flaws, didn’t you?

“Look, this isn’t personal–”

“How could this not be personal?!” You exclaimed, interrupting Ororo, who took a steadying breath.

“We just… we don’t know where you stand. With the whole… killing, thing.”

You leaned back, pretending to examine your cracked nails. “It varies from moment to moment, I’ll admit.”

The whole room eyed you as if they couldn’t tell whether or not you were joking, and Logan had to close his eyes and breathe before he shook your shoulders and begged you not to make jokes at a time like this. But you sighed heavily, dropping your hand by your side.

“Look, I don’t have a quarrel with any of you. Sure, you tracked me down and interrupted my work which was really fucking annoying by the way. And I may have knocked one of you out, but I won’t apologise for that on account of doing Stray here a favour–” you nodded to Logan, who rolled his eyes playfully, a grin pulling at his lips as Scott spluttered in disbelief.

“Oh, he gets a nickname too?!”

“And so far, I don’t particularly want to fight any of you, especially with my mutation currently shoved to the side. I already tried to kill one of you and it didn’t go so well for me. At least, it didn’t at the time,” you smirked, sending Logan a provocative, heated look that he knew you did deliberately, just to get a rise out of the rest of the room.

Troublesome mouth indeed.

“But I really don’t wanna interrupt your daisy-chain-making, trauma-bonding, friendship-is-magic bullshit for any longer than I have to, so just get this shit off me, and I’ll be on my way, okay? Because quite frankly, it makes me want to throw up.”

Logan had never seen a mic-drop like it. You’d completely undermined his entire team’s way of life in one fell swoop. And whilst he would argue that it was much more than all that, you’d kind of hit the nail on the head. He’d had exactly the same thoughts when he’d first arrived. Couldn’t understand why anyone would choose this way of life. But slowly, one by one, these people had wormed their way into his heart.

Just like you had.

“Well… hard to argue with that. I don’t particularly want her around longer than she needs to be.” Jean commented with an air of snobbery that made you wonder if Logan was completely blind. How the hell could this woman be the apple of his eye? Sure she was hot, but so were many other women, mainly the ivory-haired one standing on the opposite side of her. Now she was hot.

Jean’s eyes narrowed to you, and you tilted your head in faux innocence, knowing exactly what she’d just done. You’d left your thoughts wide open for her, not that you could do much against her mind-prying anyway. But you revelled in how she drew herself up and puffed out her chest slightly, drawing Scott’s eye. And you revelled in the way her jaw tensed in frustration when Logan continued looking at you.

Oh, this would be fun. Maybe you should stick around for a while.

“We should take her to the Professor.” Ororo mused thoughtfully, and you rolled your eyes emphatically. Could these people do nothing without their precious Professor’s permission?

“He’s already aware of the situation. He’s waiting in his office.” Jean said stiffly, folding her arms beneath her chest to emphasise her breasts, and you barely managed to stifle your laughter, wondering what the female version of a dick-swinging contest was.

Scott and Ororo made to step towards you but were stopped by a savagely hissing Wildling, her claws scratching against the ground, back arched defensively as if to strike if they got any closer. Logan couldn’t suppress his smirk.

“Well, that told you.” He uttered, and you snorted as you recognised your exact words from the cabin, catching a look of bewilderment on Jean’s face. You were enjoying this far too much.

“Alright then, let’s go see the man himself. Not sure what good it’ll do…” You huffed, holding up your hands in surrender as you walked past Wildling, Logan falling into step by your side, following Scott and Jean’s lead.

“That went well.” He murmured sarcastically, and you had to control yourself not to chuckle again.

“One good thing came out of this whole debacle though,” you glanced up at Logan who simply raised his brow in question. “Jean could barely keep her eyes off you.”

Your self-satisfied smile didn’t quite seem genuine, and Logan wondered, if only for a moment, whether or not you were irritated by that. But what felt more pressing, was the fact it didn’t boost his ego like it would have done weeks ago. If anything, he wanted to reassure you. To tell you she was just stressed in the moment, since he was the one closest to you.

But he couldn’t seem to find any truth to his thoughts.

You felt like you were under complete scrutiny, which you supposed made sense since you likely were. Every pair of eyes trained on you, tracking each micromovement you made, readying themselves for some kind of master plan of attack. Not sure what they expected you to do, considering you didn’t have half of your vision and your mutation was suppressed, but you took a little pride in the fact they felt like they couldn’t relax around you. Good, keep it that way.

Charles Xavier wasn’t quite what you were expecting. With the way his reputation had grown, you were more expecting some imposing, intimidating-looking man, possibly wearing a nice suit with a white cat on his lap, but that was more likely because of how much you’d villanised him in your head. But this man looked… kinder. Understanding. And though he looked at you with the same sort of scrutiny, it wasn’t in the same way a prey animal would observe a predator. This was more like he was trying to understand you. Who you were and why you were here.

As if he didn’t know.

And you had a horrible feeling he would try and poke around your head, which wouldn’t be a fun time for anyone involved.

Some new faces you hadn’t met yet had gathered in his office, two younger-looking girls, one with a white streak in her hair and the other who wore a graphic t-shirt of a band you’d never heard of before. You’d heard them referred to as Shadowcat and Rogue, which you couldn’t help rolling your eyes at. You knew everyone else’s names, why only now were they getting cagey?

You’d refused Charles' offer to take a seat, choosing instead to stand opposite his desk, arms folded across your chest, trying your fucking best not to scratch and rub around the bracelet on your wrist, its effects now taking an extremely uncomfortable toll on your body. It was the same feeling as holding in a scream you desperately wanted to release, your entire body taut and tense, muscles twitching irritably. How the fuck did you spend years with this feeling and not go crazy?

“You’ve caused quite the stir around here, Alecto.” Even his voice was laced with knowing, like he was reading your life story in an open book, dumped straight onto his desk face up, and you had to fight not to roll your eyes again.

“I aim to please.” You responded flatly, eyes hard as you tried to imagine his head exploding. Maybe if you concentrated hard enough, you’d siphon what little you could of your mutation despite the bracelet. But, predictably, nothing happened, and he only smiled in infuriating understanding.

“I apologise for our unorthodox methods of keeping the school safe,” he nodded to your wrist, and you had the urge to hide it behind your back. “But you must understand, this situation was rather difficult to predict. As are you.”

Your eyes narrowed, head tilting to the side every so slightly. “You have two telepaths. You could know my every move if you wanted to.”

“We don’t like to exploit our mutations in that way.”

“Why? It’s your only advantage in this world. You especially.” You jabbed, looking pointedly at the fact he was in a wheelchair now. It was a low blow, you knew that, but at the same time, fuck this guy.

“Alec…” Logan grumbled a subtle warning for you not to press. And you responded by completely ignoring him, something he tried really hard not to take personally.

“It’s alright Logan. If I recall, you said something similar when you saw met. Called me ‘Wheels’, I believe.” Charles sent him another one of those knowing looks, and you snorted a laugh, clamping your lips together to stop yourself from laughing harder.

It was nice to see you smiling, though it may have been at his expense, and he knew why Charles had said that because it had worked like a charm. You were already more relaxed than you were when you walked into his office. He wanted you to feel like you weren’t alone. Like you had some kind of kinship here, surrounded by people just like you, and he struggled to see how your relationship with either Tisiphone or Magaera was anywhere as close as his was to the rest of the team.

“Can we stay on topic, please?” Jean interjected, her tone as impatient as her tapping foot. Getting you out of here seemed to be the only thing on her mind, and if Logan hadn’t spent twenty-four hours getting to know you and working alongside you, he had no doubt he’d be agreeing with her without much thought.

But he had his own agenda. One that had nothing to do with sleeping with you, surprisingly. Despite that night being nothing short of incredible, Logan wanted to keep you around for more than just that. He saw how lonely you were. Saw how you faced the world with nobody by your side. You were different to Tisiphone, who seemed ready to melt his very bones without so much as a second thought. And whilst yes, you had tried to kill him once, he was also hyper-aware of the fact you felt as if you had no choice. You were trapped in a life chosen for you. And he’d be damned if he let you rot in a cage.

“Very well. Your injuries were severe when you came to us–”

“I had no choice in that, by the way. I didn’t come here, I was dragged.” You interrupted sharply, sending a glare in Logan’s direction, and his gut twisted with the realisation he’d contributed to that cage. Once again your choices had been taken from you. Somebody who valued freedom above all else. He dragged his eyes from yours, choosing instead to focus on the floorboards.

“When you arrived, then. Jean and Hank managed to patch you up and monitor your well-being until you woke up a few hours ago. You have them to thank for your recovery.” Charles nodded to Jean in the absence of Hank, who you presumed had been taken to some kind of bed to sleep off the harsh hit to the back of his head. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on hitting him so hard, but without the use of your mutation, you sort of overshot. But even the implication that you needed to thank any of these people burned your very blood. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for any of this. If anything, you’d never regretted asking Logan for help more than at this very moment. You should have just knocked him the fuck out and walked away.

“Once again, something I didn’t ask them to do. You expect me to be grateful for what you’ve all ‘done for me’. Are you out of your fucking mind? You’ve done nothing for me, apart from get in my way. You’ve taken me from my team, suppressed my mutation, insulted me, berated me, and now you want me to thank you?!” You barked incredulously, letting out a bitter laugh as you turned to each mutant in the room individually, assessing the situation and the likelihood of you getting out of here not busted up.

And Logan could sense it. Could sense how you’d shifted once again, your eyes carefully examining the room and its inhabitants. You knew most of their abilities, maybe only Marie and Kitty being the only two loose cannons in the room. At least, to you.

“If we hadn’t done what we did, you’d be dead,” Scott said flatly, and you laughed again.

“So what? People die all the time. Mutants die all the time. Why am I any different? I should have died in that field and yet here I am, forced into a room with ignorance screaming at me from every corner. You have no idea what’s really out there. You have no idea what these people are doing to us. Only Logan knows because he had the fucking decency to listen, which is the bare fucking minimum if you ask me. You tried to kill me,” you jabbed a finger in Scott’s direction, and Jean stepped a little closer to him. “You immobilised me in a kitchen whilst I’m borderline completely defenceless,” you continued, now turning that finger on Jean, who simply raised a thin brow in challenge. “And you,” you whirled back to Charles, eyes bleeding venom. “You abandoned me. Deemed me too dangerous for your little school because my powers were beyond my control. A man who’d sworn to help teach the young and vulnerable turned his back on me. Well, I’m in control now, except you’ve fucking collared me.”

Logan watched as grim recognition dawned on Charles’ face. So he did know you. And Logan knew everything you’d said was true in how Charles lowered his head and whispered your name.

“I didn’t know–”

“Bullshit. You’re one of the most powerful telepaths in the world. Of course you knew.” You spat, barely allowing the room to breathe before you turned your attention back to Logan. “This is the man you look up to? A man who’s lied to you since the beginning. He knew who I was from the start, yet sent you all after me knowing what I coud do. He sent you to your deaths, only you can’t die, so that worked out pretty well for you, huh?

You’re all just weapons to him. Weapons to point toward his enemies so he can claim victory over them. Don’t you get it? You’re just as much a part of a system as I was. Only your cycle of violence doesn’t stop.”

“And yours stops when every human is dead, right?” Logan countered, his patience waning rapidly. “When there’s nobody left but us mutants.”

“Doesn’t that sound ideal to you?”

“It sounds like genocide to me.”

“Who’s side are you on? You heard what they were saying about us. About you. Fucking breeding programmes, Logan! They treat us like cattle and you’re saying you don’t want that to end?!”

“I’m sayin’ there’s a way to end it without massacring millions of innocents.”

“They’re guilty by association.”

“What about the mutants with human parents? We got a few of ‘em here. You gonna explain to those kids why their parents had to die?” He countered, watching you fall into furious silence. Whilst he found the bracelet inhumane, he was currently a little thankful for it, because he had the feeling you wouldn’t have been so up for the argument if you could silence him with a single thought.

And neither of you had noticed the rest of the room readying themselves for action if needs be. Scott had his fingers to his glasses, Storm’s hands outstretched by her sides. Rogue had removed a glove from her hand, Kitty crouched down to the floor. And Jean? She hadn’t taken her eyes off you, only barely glancing at the Professor now and then, her brows furrowed. They were arguing as well, and it looked like she was losing.

Charles uttered your name to catch your attention, and holy shit did it work, your head whipping back to where he was sitting at his desk, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t call me that.” You hissed, and he held up his hands in apology.

“Alecto, then. I’m going to give you a choice here. You can stay with us for a while, see what we do here, understand our methods and our way of life, and remove the bracelet. Or you can leave and go back to your team and see if they have any way to remove it. But you’ll find it can’t be merely slashed off.”

Logan blanched, eyes widening in barely concealed bafflement. Scott spluttered in protest, and it finally became clear what Jean’s silent argument was about, her jaw tense with subdued rage. She was very clearly against this idea.

“I could just agree to your terms, get this bracelet off, kill most of you and walk out of here unharmed.” You shrugged as if it were the obvious thing in the world. Which it probably was.

“You could. But you won’t.” Charles explained, and your eyes narrowed again.

“And why’s that?”

Xavier glanced at Logan, a small knowing smile pulling at his lips. “You just won’t. Now, let’s get this thing off you. Jean?”

“Woah woah woah, I haven’t agreed to anything yet!” You took a step back as Jean took a reluctant step forward, fishing in her pockets for the circular key, grabbing your flailing wrist in her hand.

“You put one foot wrong, you’re dead.” She hissed, and you rolled your eyes at her dramatics.

“Right back atcha, toots.” You said it before you’d even thought about it, realising you’d never fucking said that before in your life. But the man who had and seemed to say it regularly threw an amused glance in your direction, and you bit down your smile. At least, while you still had the control to do so, because all at once, the bracelet fell away, and you felt like you were breathing for the first time.

The tension in your body melted away as you felt your powers surge through your nerves, your blood singing with freedom as it danced through your veins, eyes glowing with a sanguine song, so strong it was almost overwhelming. You gritted your teeth as you fell to one knee, fighting not to unleash your mutation on the people. They’d taken a risk, and you could appreciate that. And if this were to truly work, you’d have to pay back their borderline misplaced trust. So you'd fight your instincts, let your powers run riot in your blood and your blood alone, your muscles pulsing with strength, your senses sharpening with adrenaline, your pulse like a beating drum in your ears.

Logan didn’t bother to fight the urge to crouch by your side, watching as your pallid complexion regained colour, the light returned to your eyes. It was spectacular, though a little worrisome as you appeared to be in pain. He’d never experienced one of these collars, and he truly hoped he never would because it would most likely kill him, but the way your eyes focused on the ground demonstrated that this was not the first time you’d dealt with the sudden surge of power.

“Feelin’ better?” He asked lowly, his hand settling atop your shoulder. You really couldn’t figure him out. One moment he was fighting you on moral ethics, the next he was asking you how you were feeling and putting a comforting hand on your arm. You didn’t understand him, and you didn’t understand your body’s reaction to him either. Why did you want him to keep that hand there for eternity? Why did you never want him to move away from you? Why had you come to him for help?

“Yeah, thanks.” You relaxed your jaw, moving it around slightly to loosen the muscles as you stood, Logan following your lead. You needed to get out of this room. You needed time to think, to process. You had no idea what just happened, or why. Why Charles had offered for you to stay. Maybe it was some fucked up shot at redemption, hell if you knew. But you’d entertain it. For now, at least. Until you got bored or the pull of your team became too much to bear. They were technically your family after all. But Monkey would be safe while the others thought you dead.

At least, you kind of hoped they thought you were dead.

“Hey Jean…” You kept your eyes on Logan as you called for the woman who had once held his heart. You’d seen how she’d looked at him, and there was definitely some kind of confused longing there. So why not stir things up a little?

Your wicked little grin set Logan’s heart aflame and his teeth on edge. As Charles had said, you were unpredictable, so just what the hell were you about to do? And when you sent him a wink before turning around and heading towards the door, he knew he was screwed.

“You’re really missing out on that one.” Briefly meeting her eyes, you watched in sick satisfaction as her brows creased in confusion before the fury of realisation flared in her face. And you didn’t stick around long enough to decipher the roaring cacophony of voices as you left the room, accusations flying left and right before the door closed behind you.

It was late evening by the time the argument in Charles’ office had settled down enough, Jean having stormed out with an accusatory Scott hot on her heels, his arms flying in all different directions. It had been a dirty move from you, but Logan couldn’t deny he enjoyed watching the chaos unfold, despite the argument being focused around him. He didn’t confirm anything, but at the same time, he didn’t deny anything either. And the entire team looked exhausted by the time they filed out, Logan borderline pushed Kitty out the door as he closed it with his back, leaving just him and Charles alone. What you’d said had been stuck in his head, replaying your words like a carousel in his mind. And if he didn’t confront Charles about it now, it would keep him awake.

“I suppose you have questions.” Charles broke the silence first, turning to face the window, the orange light of the sunset bathing him in a glow of hellfire.

“Yeah… a few. Why didn’t you tell us?” He thought he’d start easy, since jumping into a slew of accusations hadn’t exactly worked for him in the past. It had been a learning curve for him, but one he was more than accustomed to by now. Charles’ heavy sigh fanned the window pane, fogging the glass before it cleared away in moments.

“I wasn’t sure. There aren’t many blood manipulators, but I met one a long, long time ago. Some twenty years, I think.” He mused almost to himself, and Logan folded his arms, pushing against the door he was leaning on to cross the office and sit on one of the sofas, his elbows leaning heavily on his thighs as he once again stared at the floorboards.

“You said, before this whole thing, you didn’t get to her in time. Assumin’ she’d the same one, what happened?” He asked a little sharper than he’d intended to. But he wanted answers. Too many truths had been concealed, and some could have got his friends killed. So yeah, he was a little fucking frustrated.

“The same thing that always happens. Her mutation awakened. But with devastating consequences. By the time I arrived, nothing was left of her family but bloodstains on the walls. It was much like those images in the slideshow. And she couldn’t have been older than five.” His voice was filled with so much regret it made Logan wonder if he was telling him everything. And, knowing Charles, he probably wasn’t.

“So… what? You just turned your back on her?” Logan hissed, his jaw aching from how hard he was gritting his teeth. The thought of you wandering around the world at such a young age, terrified out of your mind of what you could do…

It hurt.

“I worked with her for almost a year. Taught her what control I could, but it’s like her mutation calls to blood. It wants to manipulate, to bend, to control. With every drop, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was growing more and more frustrated by the day. I only took my eyes off her for a minute…” Charles trailed off, his eyes trained on the younger students playing a game of tag in the gardens, shrieking giddily as the one who was ‘it’ chased them all around. A touching scene, and one you could have been a part of if he hadn’t been so damn careless. “She was gone. Took off. I tried to track her, but I taught her how to hide her mutation from others, and now she was using it against me. By the time I had Cerebro…

“It was my failings that got her into this life ––my neglect. I couldn’t help her the way she needed and it cost her a life of freedom. But you can, Logan. There was one reason and one reason alone she didn’t kill us all and walk out of here.”

Logan wasn’t stupid. He knew he was the reason, but he also knew it wasn’t just him. He’d told you how much his friends meant to him. How close of a family they were. You’d understood almost immediately they weren’t just colleagues or associates. Even Scott. These people saved his life, and offered him friendship, a home. And what stray dog doesn’t want that?

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be…” he mumbled, the weight of Charles’ words heavy on his shoulders. As much as he cared about you, he didn’t want your fate to be on his conscience. He wanted a better life for you. Fuck, he didn’t particularly want you to leave, but having that whole decision riding on him…?

It really made him want to skip town. Just disappear and return after a couple months, maybe a few years who knows. Isn’t that the version of him Jean said she missed?

“You’re right, it’s a lot of responsibility.” Charles agreed, to Logan’s chagrin.

“Outta my head, Chuck.”

Charles rumbled a chuckle, turning from the gardens to regard Logan where he was sitting. “Apologies, your thoughts are often quite loud. But the mere fact you care for her means I don’t have much to worry about. You’re a good man, Logan. Maybe you could make an honest woman of her.”

Logan rolled his eyes dramatically, standing from his seat and glancing out the window, his heartwarming as he watched those kids change the game in a split second, now engaging in some imaginary fantasy battle. If only your childhood could have consisted of things such as this. Maybe you wouldn’t be so hellbent on the destruction of humanity…

Or maybe you would. Who was he to say?

With a heavy sigh, he nodded goodbye to Charles, running a hand through his hair as he stepped out into the hallway, his mind a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts and intentions. To the point where he didn’t even see Jean lingering in the lounge, pretending to tend to a fire that had already been lit. The warmer months were finally over, and the weather had finally crossed into the rainy, cold season. Wind picking up, clouds overhead. Only today had been a nice midpoint between sunshine and storm clouds. Marie was always going on about that literature technique where the weather reflects the mood. He felt she’d go crazy with pride if he brought it up.

“You really want her to stay, don’t you?” Jean broke the silence, finally setting aside the poker now the flames were climbing to her satisfaction. “It doesn’t matter what she did, because you spent twenty-four hours with her and she completely changed you.” She spoke absently as if not speaking to him. But since nobody else was in the room, a nice change from the usual hum of life, he assumed he was the only one she could be talking to.

“Yeah, I do. But she didn’t change me, Jean. I’m still me.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want to have this conversation so soon after the meeting. He didn’t even know where you’d run off to, and he needed to find you. He couldn’t explain why, he just did.

Jean sighed, sitting back on her heels in front of the hearth. “I suppose sleeping with random strangers is very reminiscent of the old you.” Her tone was airy and careless, but there was an underlying spitefulness that Logan really couldn’t understand. He could get her not liking you because of your methods and ideology, but not liking you because he’d slept with you? That made absolutely no sense.

“Don’t see how that’s any’ve your concern.” He grumbled, crossing the room to lean against the wall next to the fireplace. It was a low blow, and one he refused to rise to, but it sure as shit irked him. So what if he slept with you? Sure, maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but in the moment, he didn’t give a shit. And truthfully, he still didn’t give a shit.

“I just wonder why you really want her around. Sex is a good distraction, after all.” She sent him a look over her shoulder. A look that would have made him weak at the knees a month ago. And whilst it still made him feel warm, he didn’t have the same ‘I want to jump your bones’ reaction he used to. He wouldn’t spend the rest of the day in a bad mood because of Scott’s existence.

“I’m not discussin’ this with you.”

“Oh come on, Logan. The entire mansion knew how you felt about me. Even the students. And suddenly you’re not interested anymore because someone new and exciting walks through the door?” Jean stood from her knees, smoothing down her t-shirt of any creases she may have created.

“‘S that what this is about? You’re mad because I no longer want to sleep with you?” He accused a little harsher than he meant to, and Jean scoffed in response, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m just saying it’s not hard to see the correlation.” She retorted dismissively.

“Don’t you always say ‘correlation doesn’t always mean causation’? I never understood what that meant ‘til now. I was right here, for years. And you wanted nothin’ to do with me. An’ now all of a sudden you’re all torn up cuz I’ve moved on?” Whatever he said about not rising to the bait had been thrown out the window.

“You moved on to a girl you’ve known for less than five minutes!” It was almost cathartic to see her get as worked up as he was, her collected façade fraying at the seams.

“I haven’t moved on to her, Jean, Christ! We had sex, it meant nothing.” He huffed in exasperation, the scent of frustration heavy in the air. Frustration, lavender and–

“Aww, you wound me, Stray.”

Copper.

Your voice wove through the tension, curling around his anger like a flute soothing a snake. And whilst he found himself relaxing, he watched as Jean tensed further, her spine straightening tenfold.

He’d never seen you so at ease, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy, entertained smirk, nursing a mug of god knows what in both your hands as if you were trying to warm up. You’d changed into a pair of low-hanging sweatpants he’d seen on Kitty a few times, and a graphic shirt he knew belonged to Ororo. Considering nobody was particularly happy with you hanging around, they all seemed surprisingly accommodating towards you.

“How long have you been standing there?” Jean asked sharply, her eyes narrowing in a way that made Logan want to step between you. But for who’s sake, he couldn’t discern.

“Not long,” you shrugged, standing up straight and heading over to sit on the arm of the couch. “But long enough to hear that our little midnight tryst meant nothing to Claws. And here I was hearing wedding bells and sending out invitations. Guess I’ll put the florist on hold.” You sighed with faux dejection, peering into the contents of your mug longingly.

Jean ground her teeth together. “You’re incredibly grating, you know that?”

You just snorted a laugh, eyeing her with that same lazy smirk. “Oh honey, you think this is bad? Just wait til you see what else my mouth can do,” you paused momentarily, pretending to think. “Although… I suppose Logan could fill you in on that.”

Logan almost choked on his saliva, his eyes blowing wide before he had to clamp his lips together to stop himself from cackling.

“You’re disgusting.” Jean sneered, looking you up and down with an appraising eye, her nose scrunching in revulsion.

“And you’re jealous.” You shot back with a sing-song tone, swirling your mug in your hands, raising a curious brow at her.

“Of you? You’re insane.” Though she did take a step back from you, her eyes flaring with the realisation that you could see right through her.

“Disgusting, insane, c’mon. You can do better than that. But you might want to get some air and cool off. Your blood’s boiling.” You glanced at her up and down, giving her a look of venomous innocence. Jean clamped her mouth shut as if internally debating whether or not to bind your limbs to your body again, but one quick look at Logan’s face of warning and she seemed to decide against it.

“Fucking psycho bitch…” she hissed as she stormed out, and you didn’t bother to dodge to the side as she deliberately shouldered past you, your hands moving quickly to save the contents of your mug that Logan was only now able to smell was tea.

“That’s more like it,” you gave her a wink over your shoulder, and Logan released a heavy sigh. Of relief or exhaustion, he didn’t know, but at least that conversation was over. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He raised a brow as you sipped your drink, humming absently at the flavour. “Yeah? For what?”

“Saving you from an argument that looked like it was about to turn nasty. Trouble in paradise? I’m not about to pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.” You grinned unapologetically, and though Logan knew he should be irritated, but he couldn’t find a lick of frustration with you.

“Not about to pretend I didn’t know you were there.” He didn’t. But he wasn’t about to admit that. And the way you narrowed your eyes told him you knew he was lying. Neither of you decided to bring it up.

The room fell silent, your eyes focused on the crackling of the flames, finding comfort in the non-conformity of it all. You couldn’t predict the patterns of fire. Didn’t know where the next ember would pop, or the next spark would rise. Didn’t know when it would flare to life or decide to die down. There was comfort in chaos.

It was where you thrived. Not in places like this, where the quiet was stuffy and suffocating. Not when your senses didn’t have to constantly be alert. You didn’t like the feeling of so-called “safety”, which was part of the reason you enjoyed riling up Jean so much. She was dangerous, and as much as you didn’t like her, you certainly enjoyed that much about her.

“How’re you holdin’ up?”

“About what I said…”

You both broke the silence simultaneously, even the hearth joining your voices with a sudden crack. A small smile graced your lips, huffed laughter rippling in your tea as he cleared his throat a little awkwardly. It was cute, you thought, the way he slightly shifted from foot to foot.

“Charles, uh. Charles told me. What happened when you were a kid.”

And just like that, your good mood soured. Barely able to disguise your shocked rage, your spine straightened, defensive walls locking down around your heart and soul. “He had no right to tell you that.”

“But he did all the same.” Logan attempted to soothe. He didn’t want to lie to you, and though this conversation was about to be just as painful as the one he had with Jean, this one needed to happen. “Look, he failed you before. Didn’t know where to look, didn’t know how to find you. But give him a second chance an–”

“It wasn’t just him, Logan. Sure, Charles was the first, but in time everyone turns their backs on the kids they can’t help. And if they can’t help them, they try to tame and use them. After a while, you just come to expect it.” You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to stare into the murky brown liquid in the mug you held as if it would somehow yield the answers you sought.

“Not everyone is like that.”

“No? You never had somebody turn their back on you? Or you turn your back on them?” You asked, and Logan tensed his jaw, giving you the answer you needed. “Exactly. This world is cruel. And whilst I know I can’t put a stop to it completely, trying to stem that cruelty where I can became a purpose. And if that means the eradication of the human race, then so be it.”

“What makes mutants so different? You were a street kid, I know you’ve seen some fucked up shit from both sides. Mutants can be just as cruel, so why are they so different?” He urged, fighting the instinct to set your mug aside and take your hands in his own. He had to hold onto the hope that you didn’t actually think this and that you were holding onto resentment because it was all you had.

“Because the only people who’ve given me any sense of belonging are those mutants. You may think we’re cruel, and our methods are fucked up, but those people saved my life. They took me in after the world turned its back on me. After the human who claimed to love me branded me a slave and sold me off as fucking cattle. I was passed around humans like a fucking joint. Sold from this family to that, from one organisation to another. Fight pits, prostitution, thievery, bounty hunter. You name it, I did it. All for somebody else’s profit and never for me.” You drew in a shaky breath, cursing the burning of your eyes, the damp on your lashes, the tremor in your hands. You could feel the collar’s weight on your neck, the itch of friction burn on your collar bones. The blood down your back from where you tried time and time again to claw it off, nails sinking into soft, scarred flesh. “Mutants freed me from that hell. Mutants like Tiss and Mags. They freed me and whilst we’re not quite the same as your cushy little family here, they’re all I have. Monkey is all I have. So don’t sit there and tell me mutants can be just as cruel because, from my experience, they’re not a patch on the suffering a human can inflict.”

Having had enough of ignoring his instincts, Logan stepped forward, bending down on one knee to take the mug from your trembling hands and set it on the coffee table.

“You’ve been dealt the shittiest deal, I know that,” he finally took your hands, his thumbs smoothing over the bones of your scarred knuckles. “But there are other ways of puttin’ a stop to this. Not everyone has to die. There are innocents too. There always are.”

You stared at the way his hands had enveloped yours, the gentle caress of his fingers, a touch you were so unfamiliar with and yet already crave so much more. “How do you do it?” You whispered, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Do what?”

“The right thing. All the fucking time. Doesn’t it drive you crazy? How fucking shit this world is? Don’t you want to make them suffer? For everything they’ve done to us? For everything they’re doing to us? To kids?” Your question hung in the air, caught in the static tension between you.

“Yeah. I do. But if I started, I’d never stop.” He answered honestly, ducking his head to finally catch your eye, his breath stilling in his lungs as he saw right through your furious façade and straight into the terrified girl beneath.

“Maybe that’s a good thing…”

“I’ve stained my hands enough times to know it isn’t.”

You fell silent, contemplating his words. Had he been in this position before, right where you are now? Had he felt this same kind of all-consuming rage? “Fuck…” you muttered, knowing he had a good point.

“I know. It’s frustratin’ when someone forces you to see a different perspective.” He knew all too well how it fucks with the mind.

“I haven’t seen anything yet.” You pointed out, though your glare held no actual heat.

“‘Yet’ is good.” His lips quirked into a small smirk. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe he did have a shot at saving you from yourself. And if the way you rolled your eyes was anything to judge by, he was succeeding.

“Shut up…” You forced yourself to look away from his suddenly strikingly handsome face, choosing instead to find interest again in the fire. A tobacco-scented huff of laughter fanned the side of your cheek, and regrettably, you couldn’t find the will to continue staring into the flames. Your gaze dragged reluctantly back to his features, suddenly hyper aware of his hands in yours. Of his face barely inches from your own.

“How’s the wound?” He murmured, eyes flickering over your features, drinking you in as if to memorise the valleys and plains of your face, gaze lingering on your lips for longer than you’d dare admit.

“It’ll heal in around a week or so. I’ll be fine.” You whispered back, dragged from your internal debate over whether or not you should pull away by the borderline gravitational tug of his intentions. This felt different to the logger’s cabin. This wasn’t two people finding comfort in each other after surviving a battle together. There was no threat here to excuse your actions. No rush of adrenaline to explain them.

“Good.”

Logan couldn’t be bothered to argue with himself. He didn’t care if it was a bad idea. Something about you drew him in, and like a damned moth to an open flame, he welcomed the doomed desire that came with it. The first touch of your lips was electrifying, and he sucked a gasp through his nose as you too gave in. Eyes fluttering shut, your fingers dragged from his hands up over his arms, nails lightly scratching up his neck to weave into his hair, making a home in his thick locks.

You hadn’t realised how badly you craved his touch. You were mildly aware of it, sure. But when he kissed you like there was nobody else on the planet, when he savoured your lips the way one does with the last bite of a meal, you couldn’t deny it. And when you parted your mouth for him, you felt a surge of something burst through your chest. A searing, agonising thrumming in the centre of your chest.

Logan’s fingers gently pried at the bandage you’d haphazardly wrapped around your left eye, softly pulling at the fabric until it came loose in his hand, falling away from your face. A stuttered exhale flew from your lips as he drew back a fraction, just enough for your breaths to mingle as one as he traced the outline of the scar with his fingertips, hazel eyes meeting yours.

“Pretty…” he murmured absently, and your eyes widened, a bashful smile of pure, unadulterated beatitude pulled at your disobedient lips. Logan drank in your expression, a surprised smile of his own gracing his features. “Yeah? Like it when I call you pretty?”

You wanted to slap the self-satisfied grin from his face, but the butterflies in your stomach prevented you from doing so. “I just… don’t hear it very often.”

“Better get used to it, Alleycat.” You barely had time to register yet another new nickname before his lips were sealed back to yours, an unmistakable urgency now fuelling his movements and a pace change you were more than happy to dance with.

With a slight push against your chest, you let yourself fall into the sofa behind with a soft thud, your hands never leaving his hair as he fell forward with you, fingers roaming beneath Ororo’s graphic t-shirt, careful to avoid the wound still raw in your side. You thought it would hurt more, but maybe you were just too drugged by his attention to notice the pain. Goosebumps prickled your skin, your thighs caging his hips as you locked your ankles around his waist, dragging a low, breathy groan from his chest.

He separated from your lips, the taste of his tongue still lingering in your mouth as he littered kisses up the side of your jaw and down your neck, igniting a heat within you thought had long since faded. But then you remembered the cabin. You remembered the way he could make you feel with his fingers alone. That spark definitely hadn’t faded but was just waiting. Buying its time.

“Logan…” you breathed, the scruff of his beard lightly scratching the soft skin of your neck. He rumbled a hum of acknowledgement, his hand sliding from your waist to grip the meat of your thigh.

“Thought I lost you for a moment… scared the hell outta me.” He confessed against your skin, the side of your head tingling slightly with each lover’s caress.

But you couldn’t focus on the feeling, not after what he’d just said. A cold pit of dread opened in your stomach, and you pushed against the centre of his chest. “What?”

Logan’s brows furrowed in confusion, his head tilting to the side. “When you were shot…? Forgot already?” He grinned a little cockily, but you drew back as far as you could with the couch cushions behind your head. Your legs unlocked from his lower back, your hand now pushing a little firmer against his chest until he was off you.

“What do you mean ‘you thought you lost me’?”

“You almost died?!” He stated it as if it were obvious, but that wasn’t what you were asking him.

“You wouldn’t have lost anything, Logan. I’m not someone to lose. I’m not even someone to mourn. Me dying would have meant nothing.” How couldn’t he see that? How couldn’t he see how little you mattered? There would always be somebody to take your place. There always had been and there always would be.

You stood abruptly from the couch, the heel of your palm pressed over the scar on your left eye, as if you had only just realised it was uncovered and you hastily tried to fix your hair to cover it.

“I don’t understand.” Logan squinted at you, as if looking at you harder would help him come to terms with whatever the hell just happened. Would explain to him why you were suddenly pushing him away.

“I don’t expect you to–”

“Then help me to. Help me to understand you. Because I’m a little lost right now.” He huffed irritably, and you tried not to let your temper flare.

“Everyone around you matters, Logan. Everyone around you has people who look at them differently. Who love them, care about them, would miss their conversations at breakfast if they weren’t there. That’s why I don’t expect you to understand. Because I don’t think you’ve ever met someone who doesn’t matter before.” You explained with muted frustration, and Logan rose intending to take your arm.

“I still haven’t.”

You sighed heavily, raising your gaze to meet his, and your very heart stopped beating at what you saw. It was a look you’d never experienced before, but one you knew all too well. How could he? After everything you’d said. Your intentions. The very core of who you were, carefully crafted to be a cold, hard killer. The core he was well aware of. So how could he?

“I’m not somebody to be loved, Logan.”

Your words struck him like a bullet straight to his chest. The harsh reality of your upbringing, the lessons your life had taught you were all here for him to see. The thought of getting through to you earlier was almost laughable now. He wasn’t a professional; he had no idea how to deal with this.

And he was struck with something else. The acknowledgement of a familiar blossom, barely withstanding the crushing weight of his situation.

It seemed he’d stayed silent for a little too long. You fixed your tee, and fiddled with your hair slightly to make sure it was at least somewhat covering your scar, before offering not another word. He was completely powerless as you walked away, leaving him to sit with whatever the fuck had just happened. Because, in truth, he didn’t know how to explain his feelings in words. He was at a complete loss as to how he could convince you otherwise. Because you were wrong. Oh so very, very wrong.

But now you've walked away. You’d pushed him back and shut him out. Again. Only this time, it felt final.

This time, he didn’t know if he could get back in.

#wolverine x reader #logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan smut #logan howlet smut #logan x reader smut #logan howlett fanfiction #x men logan #wolverine x you #wolverine smut #the wolverine #the wolverine x reader #logan x you

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shivayagojo · 14 hours ago

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PORSCHE'S GIRL part 2 | F1

masterlist

fia

NEW QUALIFYING RULES: THE BOTTOM 6 DRIVERS WILL BE ELIMINATED FROM Q1 AND Q2. Q3 WILL CONTINUE TO REMAIN THE TOP 10 DRIVERS.

Old Drivers, New Teams. Old Teams, New Drivers. The stage is set for the qualifying in Melbourne. Who will take the first pole position in 2025?

tagged: lewishamilton, carlozsainz, avaflorence

see comments below

batteryacid: Florence's whole winter aesthetic in the Aussie heat is a MOOD

> foksmash: the lack of PR training be hittin' different

> aussie: Gives me Oscar vibes. no f's given.

lewis44: Man, seeing Lewis in red still does not feel right

> totosfav: Ikr!! I was looking at that Ferrari in FP3 was like that's Carlos Sainz- nope, Hamilton.

> plottwist: Manifesting a Ferrari 1-2 today!!

chuckleclerc: Lowkey excited to see how Hamilton and Leclerc gonna shake things up this season 👀🔥

> carbuff: Ferrari's about to serve some serious looks with that darker red livery

f1memes: Carlos getting pole here after getting sacked by Ferrari would be the funniest thing

> sainzstan: praying Sainz coming for that championship with THAT energy 👑

> fastlane: Guys, he's in a Williams. I love him, but please 🙏

Porsche F1: Ava Florence

Admin: Before we head off to your first Grand Prix, the fans want to get to know you a bit better. So let's introduce you to Australia. Firstly, what's your name and what team do you drive for?

"My name is Ava Florence and I drive for Porsche Penske... ah sh** its Martini right? Damn. Porsche Martini Motorsport Racing."

Admin: The F.I.A might penalize you for swearing.

"Ah I won't show up to community service anyway. Unless he did. If he did, I want pictures please."

Admin: What track are you looking most forward to?

"Spa. Literally grew up five minutes away from it. If I don't win there, I might cry. Suzuka would be cool too. Another home race."

Admin: Who was your racing idol?

"Dunno. Never had one. Of course I watched Vettel and Hamilton and Alonso when I was younger, but never really had someone I wanted to be like. The closest... Michele Mouton. She's amazing."

Admin: What's your relationship with Sebastian and Daniel?

"I love them. Seb is kinda like father. And Danny is big brother. Though I think I'm the smarter one... don't tell him that."

Daniel (Off-Camera): You're welcome!

"And he's flipping me off. Love you Danny!"

Admin: Lastly, what's are you looking to accomplish in your first Grand Prix.

"Win."

AUSTRALIA GRAND PRIX: Once again, Melbourne will host the opening round to a Formula 1 season and the excitement is high. McLaren are looking to capitalize on their massive improvements from last season, defending their crown. Red Bull fell off a cliff at the end of 2024, but they still think they can put a fight with their new driver line up. Ferrari has the most hype around them as they've signed Sir Lewis Hamilton, while Mercedes will try to pick up the pieces after Hamilton left.

Q1 was a heated session and you could've sworn that this was 2023 all over again. Max Verstappen goes fastest, setting a 1:16.643. Only two other drivers cracked into the one minute sixteen margins. Lando followed Verstappen with a 1:16.720, but Charles narrowly took that second spot with 1:26.715. Both Mercedes out high performances in 1:17 and Lewis Hamilton set the fastest of that bunch of 1:17.062, landing him P4 in the first session. Porsche's were the dark horses, setting times for P5 and P7.

AVA ROLLED INTO the pit lane, her voice teething on the radio:

FLORENCE I have no pace on the straights. Sector 2 is a joke.

HENRY Understood, Ava. Bring the car into the pits, we'll have a look at the front wing.

FLORENCE Where's Seb?

HENRY He's 5th at the moment. He's running a different set up than you.

THUS the issues began with every new team. Sebastian got the "preferred" set-up, a high suspension to increase speed on the straights and allow him to pick up time during qualifying. But Ava had done it before. She's raced with terrible setups and she's always found a way through... and F1 was her dream. If she was gonna be with Porsche, she was gonna have driving done the beautiful way.

Q2 was a mixed batch of drivers on top. Verstappen fell off his dominance, but he managed to stay in for the next round at P8. Lando once again topped the timing sheets, but Oscar and Leclerc were catching up, Oscar now cracking into the 1:16 times. Hamilton also managed to break in, but still couldn't manage to stick himself in the top 3. It was Sebastian turn to fall to P9 after fumbling Turn 1 and Turn 3 of his laps. Ava settled herself behind the 7x champion in fifth. Coming into the pits, she remained quiet. She hated every second right now. Sure, fifth was a great start to her first EVER F1 race, but she had to fight the car through every corner to get it to where it was. For that effort, she felt she deserved more. She put on footage from Lando's qualifying lap and waited for the final session to begin.

LECLERC HAS GONE OFF — he spun is car around in Turn 1 and sent it straight to the gravel, failing to set a time for the final session. This was Lando's chance. With competition from Charles gone, he easily snatched the top timings, but Oscar was there; first sector, green, second sector, yellow, third sector - hard brake, attacking the apex, carrying that momentum into the final chicane - purple. But was it enough?

Oscar Piastri : +.097

OSCAR WAS DEVASTED. P2was a great lap, but to know he was only nine hundreds off pole in his home Grand Prix hurt. However, that wasn't the only salt to his wound.

"We ride on board with Ava Florence as she's about to begin her lap. Martin, why don't you give us some insight."

"Certainly, Crofty. She's just gonna come up on the final corner and activate the DRS and down she goes for her lap. Picks up speed to 8th gear, breaks at the 100 meter mark, down to third, hits the apex, up to fifth. Late braking into Turn 3, a little too late, bad exit off the corner. Nicely hugs the apex into Turn 4 and flat out for Turn 5. Faster than her pedal best by a tenth."

"Now, Ava Florence, that is, the Porsche driver. She was complaining about the bad speeds on the straights. We can see that right here on Turn 5."

"Absolutely, and she's gonna have to make up as much as she can in the corners.. here, she crosses the DRS detection zone, it's a yellow second sector. Turn 9, a hard braking zone, she angles her car beautifully, attacking the apex, but being cautious on the curbs. She carries that momentum into Turn 10 - just look at how fast she is in those corners. DRS Zone now... down to third gear, wide entry into Turn 11, just what she needs and she stays smooth on the throttle in Turn 22. Back into third gear for Turn 14 and beautiful exit out of Turn 14 as she hits the DRS."

"And it will be Ava Florence who will take P2 away from Oscar Piastri. She goes purple on the final sector."

"Unbelievable final sector from that rookie. Like you said Crofty, having to fight that car all day and certainly not an easy afternoon for the lady, but she's made it work. As here comes here teammate Sebastian Vettel climbing up to P6."

HENRY That is P2 for tomorrow. P2. Well done, Ava.

FLORENCE YES! Oh I hated this qualifying so much, but happy with this result. What's an Aussie thing I can say for the fans?

The eyes of our top three in qualifying. Time to hit the grid hard on Sunday. 👊

tagged: lando, avaflorence, oscarpiastri

see comments below

delulu4ferrari: Another year, another season where Ferrari plays with my heart.

> chuckleclerc: Charles going on in Q3 gave me France PTSD.

teamLH: How did Lewis not manage to get a single top 3 placement in any session?? Rigged!

> lululemoncalled: Hear me out... maybe he's new to the team?? Just saying.

> oscarpastry: Only TeamLH and Mad Max fans can look at a P4 qualifying and say it was rigged against them.

florence4ever: No hate to Seb, but they gave mama the worse setup and she cooked.

> delusion: How many letters in Formula 1?

visacashapptookmymoney: Piastri fans, how we feeling?

> pawastri: chill

> piastri_leclerc: dead

> leos.brother: trynna stay sane

2025 Australian Starting Grid

Lando Norris

Ava Florence

Oscar Piastri

Lewis Hamilton

George Russell

Max Verstappen

Sebastian Vettel

Nico Hulkenberg

Andrea Kimi Antonelli

Charles Leclerc

Gabriel Bortoleto

Carlos Sainz

Liam Lawson

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Esteban Ocon

Ollie Bearman

Lance Stroll

Alexander Albon

Pierre Gasly

Isack Hadjar

Jack Doohan

porschef1

View from the top of Australia is so good you can see Stuttgart from here.

tagged: avaflorence, sebsatianvettel

see comments below

vettel_forever: Sebastian P7 to podium, calling it now! 🏆

> florence4ever: Porsche 1-2 from day one 💯

racingnews24: Audi: "We're joining F1!" Porsche: "Hold my beer" 🍻

> f1_memer: The German Civil War continues

> delulu: Out qualified both Audi's and Ava had the worse set up. Queen shit.

audif1: Enjoy the view while it lasts. See you on race day.

> hulk: Get Nico a podium and then talk!

> shoey4ricc: I want Hulkenberg on the podium so badly, but Audi kinda dug themselves a grave by doing all this.

SUNDAY CAME FAST, and the grid was lined up for the 2025 Formula 1 season. The nerves and expectations were on everyone. Lando couldn't manage to dethrone Max in 2024, but everyone said he can do it this year. He had the fast car, he had the pole position, and all he needed was to maintain it. But Ava was right behind. Rookie or not, she stole P2 from the second McLaren, arguably the fastest car on the grid right now. Speaking of him, Oscar wanted this race win badly. Every driver dreams of winning a Grand Prix, but many dream of winning their home race. This race was crucial for Oscar, not just for the championship, but for his pride.

NEXT YEAR IS OUR YEAR was Ferrari's slogan for the past 17 years. This year had to be the year though. They had two mega-star drivers. They invested everything into Leclerc. They invested everything into Hamilton. They were just a millimeter away last year. They want to a mile ahead this year.

"Welcome along to the first round of 2025 Formula 1 Season. We are in Melbourne, Australia at the beautiful Albert Park circuit to kick off the start of what is surely going to be a spectacular season. We've got 58 laps ahead of his round, a 3.28 mile circuit and the lap record, set by Charles Leclerc in 2024. 4 DRS zones here, more than any other circuit, around 14 corners. Let's take a look at our grid."

"It was a wild qualifying this year, like it is every year. The lap record holder spun off in Q3, landing him 10th on the grid. But if any driver can make a comeback, it is him. Drivers to watch out for - obviously, we have the pole sitter, Lando Norris. He's been on fire all weekend. Can he finish the job today?"

"We'll certain see, Martin, but the driver behind him isn't going make it easy. Ava Florence, the rookie for Porsche, stunned everyone yesterday. She'll sits P2, only seven hundredths off Norris' time."

HENRY Okay, Ava. Don't worry too much about your start. Our goal is to make these tires last longer than the competition.

"And that Ava certainly will do. She starts on soft tires for the Grand Prix, but she's running a higher suspension than the rest of the top 10, so she might be out on the track for a long time before she comes into the pits. The question is: was that the right call?"

"Only time will tell, Martin, but now the drivers finish up their formation lap... IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! Immediately, Ava gets a good jump, she's right on Lando, Max in the back passes on Russel as we head down to the first corner AND AVA GETS TO THE APEX FIRST, SHE LEADS IN, AND SHE TAKES THE POSITION. Once again, Lando Norris will not get to the first corner from pole in pole. Oscar right behind Lando, can't get away-

"The Williams just hit the Aston Martin. Who is it? Debris is going everywhere. Pierre Gasly gets through the disaster, but that's... that's Albon and Stroll there. Stroll's car is beached on the gravel."

"Up ahead, Ava continues her lead into Turn 5 heading for end of the first sector. Behind is Lando, Oscar, Hamilton, Verstappen, Vettel, Russell, Hulkenberg, Antonelli, and Leclerc to round out the top ten.

"We saw Verstappen pass Russell at the start, but looks like Vettel passed him too. He's put into sixth. Let's have a look at crash. Albon is still racing, but car is limping on the road. He's desperately trying to get to the pits. But Stroll... Yeah, he's getting out of the car. Lance Stroll is out of the race. So, first corner, first lap, and we already have our first retirement of 2025."

"Such a shame, especially with Newey entering the Aston department to help them with their new 2026 Honda engine deal. Not the start Aston Martin wanted for their first race. But at least Alonso is still in the race, he's climbed up two places into P12. And here as he are about to finish up the first lap, Ava is still the driver leading into Turns 13 and 14. The gap to Lando has extended, but not to Oscar. The Australian staring at his teammates rear wing. No DRS yet, but in due time, he just might be able to get ahead of Lando."

Lap 3:

TURN 1 - LAW overtakes SAI on the inside lane, sweeping in to take P13

TURN 8 - LEC passes ANT on the outside to take P9

Lap 6:

AVA FLORENCE SETS FASTEST LAP : LEAD +1.350

LAP 9:

TURN 7 - PIA passes NOR on the inside to take P2

OSCAR PIASTRI SETS FASTED LAP : GAP TO P1 +3.545

LAP 10 - 12:

WHEEL-TO-WHEEL BATTLE:

"Max Verstappen closes the gap with DRS. He's right on Hamilton's gearbox. He makes the lunge into Turn 1 on the inside. But Hamilton just holds on to the position. Verstappen and Hamilton, wheel to once again. They've shown thrilling battles before, but they've also know some jaw-dropping incidents. Verstappen makes the move on the outside. Can he make it stick? They're so close into Turn 4. Verstappen has to back off. Hamilton, defending that P4 with all his might."

"Back into the opening straight and DRS with Verstappen. He makes the lunge once again. He is denied once again. Hamilton continues to defend the position. Up ahead, Florence extends her lead to four seconds. And behind, Leclerc passes Hulkenberg. But all eyes are on these two. Who's going to come out on top?"

HENRY Hamilton and Verstappen are occupied with one another. We're happy to pit now. Your choice.

FLORENCE I think I can extend this stint.

"For the third straight time, Verstappen tries it on the inside line. This time, he gets it to stick, just a sliver ahead of Hamilton. And that is all the space Verstappen needed to get ahead in P4. Behind, Sebastian Vettel has caught up with the two. From fighting one 4x time Red Bull champion to another."

LAP 14:

AVA PIT STOP : 3.1 SECONDS | P6

TURN 5 - LEC passes RUS to take P7

LAP 16:

AVA FLORENCE SETS FASTEST LAP : GAP TO P1 +12.345

TURN 9 - ALO makes a clean pass on ANT for P10

LAP 20:

TURN 3 - BOR overtakes HUL on the outside to claim P9

TURN 7 - SAI and LAW engage in a brief battle, with SAI maintaining P13

LAP 25:

AVA FLORENCE PIT STOP : 2.8 SECONDS | P4

"Ava Florence emerges from the pits in P4, right behind George Russell. And She's immediately looking for the attack, looking for a way past the British driver. She tries to make a move on the inside of Turn 1, but Russell aggressively defends that position. Not much she could do there.

"Turn 1, and Florence fancies her chances on the inside, but Russell's having none of it. He's defending like his life depends on it! Through the next corner, it's anybody's guess who'll come out on top. They're so close you couldn't slip a piece of paper between them!"

"And now, Turn 3, Florence bravely goes for the outside line. It's a bold move, but- OH MY GOODNESS! CONTACT BETWEEN RUSSELL AND FLORENCE! SHE'S OFF THE TRACK! What drama we're seeing here, ladies and gentlemen!"

RUSSELL Nothing I could do. I had no space.

FLORENCE Someone tell this f***** that he's not Hamilton at Mercedes.

HENRY Any damage?

FLORENCE No damage. Just trying to say sane. What's Russell saying?

HENRY Russell is reporting front wing damage.

FLORENCE Karma!

"She doesn't so happy, does she, Crofty? That was quite a rip on Russell. But the Stewards will be looking into that incident and surely, that's a penalty for Russell. He was on the inside lane, Florence gave him plenty of room. No need for him to push her off the track like that."

"He will see the result of that penalty indeed, but right now Florence has lost crucial time and position. She's rejoined right behind Gabriel Bortoleto."

"I will say. Gabriel Bortoleto, the driver from out of Brazil, has done phenomenally well in his first race. I think we knew had talent, but were wondering what to make off it since he was starting in Sauber. But then Audi announced they would the join the early. And look at how its played out."

"Indeed, it's gone great for the team. Of course, the team they were directly responding to is right behind him."

LAP 28:

TURN 1 - VET makes a daring move on HAM, briefly taking P4 before HAM reclaims it in Turn 2

LAP 30:

"AND HERE WE GO! It's an absolute THRILLER between Florence and Bortoleto battling for P5! OH MY GOODNESS, WHAT A FIGHT WE'RE SEEING!"

"Look at the precision, the commitment from both drivers. Both sides are respecting the space for the other drivers, but neither side is giving up any sort of room. It's strange how that works, but that's an F3 and F2 champion fighting right here. Florence is showing tremendous tactical awareness ."

"INTO TURN 3 - BORTOLETO DEFENDS! HE'S HOLDING THE RACING LINE! BUT WAIT - FLORENCE ISN'T BACKING DOWN! SWITCH TO THE INSIDE FOR TURN 4 - SHE'S DONE IT! FLORENCE MAKES THE MOVE STICK! LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY SHE GOES! WHAT A MAGNIFICENT PIECE OF RACING!"

"Brilliant overtake. That's the kind of move that separates good drivers from great drivers. Clean, calculated, and absolutely decisive. Many said that if Florence continued to race in F2, she'd give Bortoleto a run for the title. And this right here shows it."

LAP 35:

LANDO NORRIS PIT STOP : 2.7 SECONDS | P4

LEWIS HAMILTON PIT STOP : 3.6 SECONDS | P6

AVA FLORENCE MOVES UP TO P2

LAP 40:

TURN 9 - ANT and HUL battle for P10, with ANT holding on by mere tenths

LAP 48:

"Florence has been relentlessly chasing down Piastri. Look at that - she's right on his gearbox, the gap closing down faster than a pit stop. Florence goes for the inside, but Piastri - what a defensive move! He covers it off brilliantly."

"Piastri has made a big jump in his defensive ability. We saw him defend Hamilton on the start and he's doing a beautiful job here."

"She's not giving up yet. She feints to the outside... cuts back to the inside. They're side-by-side through Turn 1, neither driver willing to give an inch! This is wheel-to-wheel racing at its absolute finest!"

"Piastri has the inside line for Turn 2, but Florence is hanging in there."

LAP 49:

TURN 3 - LEC makes a bold move on NOR, taking P4

TURN 8 - BOR defends P8 from a charging ALO

LAP 50:

"Florence has been calculatingher next move for laps. When will she unleash? Oscar Piastri is waiting, ready to defend. Look at this - she gets a phenomenal exit out of the final corner, using that slipstream down the main straight DRS wide open, and she's pulling alongside Piastri - they're NECK AND NECK into Turn 1! Florence brakes later, takes the inside line, and MAKES THE PASS STICK! WHAT A MOVE!"

"Absolutely spectacular, Crofty. That's how you make a race-defining move! She knew she had slipstream, she knew exactly the kind of space Piastri was going to give her and she took advantage of it. Brilliant. Brilliant racing."

LAP 52:

TURN 3 - LEC overtakes HAM, taking P3

LAP 58:

"Ava Florence hasn't been in Formula 1 for long, but she's already made history. The first female driver on the grid since Giovanna Amati in 1992. She will become the 9th driver to stand on the podium in their first race. And the second driver since Giancarlo Baghetti in 1961 to win their first ever Formula 1 Race. AVA FLORENCE WINS THE AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX!"

HENRY Congratulations, Ava! You've freaking done it!

FLORENCE OH MY GOD!! SIGN THIS, TAT IT, STICK ON A NOTE AND PUT IT ON MY HELMET! I DON'T CARE! I JUST WON IT!!

RUDI Okay, that's P7, Seb. Good job. Welcome back to the grid.

VETTEL Yeah, a little rusty. But amazing feeling. Thank you guys

RUDI And Ava won the race, by the way.

VETTEL Hah, really? Amazing. Gute Arbeit!

AUSTRALIA GRAND PRIX RESULTS

1. AVA FLORENCE (+25)

2. OSCAR PIASTRI (+18)

3. CHARLES LECLERC (+15)

4. LEWIS HAMILTON (+12)

5. LANDO NORRIS (+10)

6. MAX VERSTAPPEN (+8)

7. SEBASTIAN VETTEL (+6)

8. GABRIEL BORTOLETO (+4)

9. FERNANDO ALONSO (+2)

10. GEORGE RUSSELL (+1)

11. ANDREA KIMI ANTONELLI

12. NICO HULKENBERG

13. LIAM LAWSON

14. CARLOS SAINZ

15. YUKI TSUNODA

16. OLLIE BEARMAN

17. ESTABAN OCON

18. PIERRE GASLY

19. ISACK HADJAR

20. JACK DOOHAN

21. ALEXANDER ALBON [DNF]

22. LANCE STROLL [DNF] f1

SIGN THIS, TAT IT, STICK ON A NOTE AND PUT IT ON HER HELMET! WE DON'T CARE! AVA FLORENCE WINS THE AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX!

tagged: avaflorence

see comments below

f1_memer: Audi watching this like 👀

> totosheadphones: Absolutely cooked Bortoleto in the race 🔥

madmax: That's how you make an entrance in F1! Welcome, Porsche!

racing_queen: George's front wing is probably still shaking from that incident

> chuckleclerc: inchident

boomerhumor: George "He turned into me" Russell strikes again😅 What a race!

florence4ever: Ava probably some of the best radio messages here: "someone tell him he's not Hamilton at Mercedes" 😭

> goatifi: She stole Fernando's "KARMA" 💀

AUSTRALIA POST-RACE INTERVIEW

Interviewer: Congratulation, Ava. Your first race in F1 and already a win in your bag.

Ava: Hello~ How are you? Thank you so much. You look fantastic.

Interview: I think you look better than me.

Ava: Oh shut up. Tell me where you got that dress from. I need to grab something before I leave the land down under.

Interview: I'll let you know after this. Tell us, what are your emotions on your win? Guide us through this race.

Ava: Yeah, I mean... To be honest, even though I was P2, I thought a win was far away. You know, we ran a bad setup on the car. I struggled in qualifying to even get into some of the sessions but you know, we got P2 in the end. And so then I had to convert that to something in the race. Norris I saw had a slow reaction on the start, so I took the opportunity to get past him into turn one and then from there 1st put stop, you know, pretty good. But then the 2nd pit stop... came out right behind Russell. I thought, you know, I could go for this overtake And, he thought to be an idiot and turned into me when I was on the outside. So I don't know what happened there. I'm not complaining with the end result, but definitely was complaining on that one. Then I had a little fight with Gabriel. I got past him. Norris went into the pits, gave me the second position that I needed. And on Piastri, I was just waiting for DRS to kick in. And I knew that was going to be my opportunity and I got it.

Interview: So, Oscar, you were very close to winning your home Grand Prix. What are you feeling here?

Oscar: Yeah, tough. I was leading for a while. Confident I could get the race win. And then Ava came behind me and it was tough to keep her away. P2 is a strong position. Helps me, helps the team. But I definitely wished I got first.

Interview: Charles, after that spin in Q3, you started 10th on the grid. You worked your way up to the podium. How was it?

Charles: It was good. The car had pace. Obviously, not as much as we wanted, but I made some good overtakes. We had a solid strategy. By the time, I passed Lewis, the McLarens were too far ahead. Overall, strong result for the team. We'll look into the data to see where we can improve because we're definitely faster than what was shown today.

HOWEVER, all that aside, the fans of F1 wanted to know one thing and one thing only. What did the drivers think of Ava Florence? She was the first point scoring woman in F1 history. The first race-winning woman in F1 history.

Oscar: She's very quick. She's a tough racer. It was very hard to defend against her. She's pretty relentless.

Lando: She's crazy good. I mean, first race, first win. You don't just do that randomly. So, she's proven herself.

Charles: I think the race showed it. She has the pace and the racecraft to compete with the best. Very strong qualifier. Strong pace. Not many flaws I would saw. For a rookie, that's incredible.

Lewis: It's amazing to see her race. Not only is she crazy fast, but she's representing women out there in motorsport. You know, when I was growing up, there wasn't any driver that I could look to and say, "He's like me." I got the opportunity to be that kind of driver for others. And I'm sure she's now going to be a huge inspiration for women all over the world. Major props to her.

Max: She's fast. I mean, that's the basis of what you need to compete. And she has it.

Sebastian: Ava is an incredible racer. Porsche has a lot of trust in her and for good reason. She's a strong driver, and a strong person too. She doesn't let the comments get to her. And her character is one of the best out there. Happy for her. Congrats on the race win. Hopefully, many more will come.

Gabriel: The same as before. Competing against her in F3 was definitely one of the most challenging moments of my life. And now we're both on the highest level of racing. Yeah, that's it. She's fast. She's tough. She's great.

Fernando: Fantastic performance. She definitely stands out and she has great race pace, great awareness, overall just fantastic for motorsport as a whole. I don't really care if she's a woman or not. She's got the speed to compete with everyone else.

George: I think, for a rookie, it's a impressive performance. But you're going to have the rookie mistakes that everyone makes. You know, a lot of them are overly ambitious.

Carlos: She's great. Very good race she had today. Happy to see representation on the grid. I hope the best for her.

avaflorence

Australia, whatever you were, I hate you and I love you. First race, first win. Thank you. And I seriously recommend some eyewear for some of these drivers.

see comments below

f1_fanatic92: Love-hate relationships are the best! Congrats on your first win, Ava! 🏆💖

> throughgoeshamilton: "Love-hate relationships are the best." Serious question, are you okay?

ausgp: Come back next year and maybe you're mind will change 😉

motorsport_daily: "I hate you and I love you" - the perfect description of F1!

> delulu: average ferrari fan

landonorris: Congrats... I guess

> avaflorence: No need to be salty honey. Australia is already surrounded by an ocean.

> florence4ever: 😭😭

vettel_forever: First race, first win, and already throwing shade?

> team44: Rusell was fuming in the post-race interview 💀

> hamland: Bro def saw her radio message. He's cooked.

alldatime: She stole Fernando's "yoke", "karma," and his celebration. El Padre 2.0?

> avaflorence: El Madre ❤️

porschef1

We kept the receipts. Double points finish in Australia.

tagged: avaflorence, sebastianvettel

see comments below

lululemoncalled: Someone check in on Audi. I don't think they're doing so well.

delulu: Ava was fighting with the McLarens and Hulkenberg was struggling with Antonelli 💀

vettel_forever: Schumacher 🤝 Vettel joining a German based team after retirement

> schumi: Bro was really copying his idol to the max.

audif1: See you in China.

> porschef1: 🧾

WORLD DRIVERS CHAMPIONSHIP

WORLD CONSTRUCTOR CHAMPIONSHIP

#formula 1 #f1 smau #oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #ferrari #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #sebastian vettel #max verstappen #fernando alonso #f1 2025

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royal-chandler · 2 days ago

Text

temporary/maybe permanent title is winter interlude. written for the lovely @caressthosecheekbones ✨

Henry is certain that he's only just fallen asleep when he’s nudged awake, Alex’s soft scratched voice at his ear and his hand giving Henry’s wrist a slight squeeze. Henry’s answer to his name is a long groan.

“Hen, baby. Can you wake up for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

Henry groans once more and burrows further into the pocket of warmth that’s been conjured from sleep, their thick cloud-like duvet, and Alex’s arms. He keeps his eyes shut and silently, drowsily wishes for Alex to concede. And of course, no such luck.

“I’ve got an amazing idea.”

“That for some ungodly reason can’t wait until morning?”

“It’s uh,” Henry feels Alex slightly shift away, imagines that he’s checking the nocturne glow of their bedside clock, “one thirty-six right now so technically...”

“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence.”

“Come on,” Alex draws out. He shakes Henry some more, as if he can transfuse enthusiasm through vibration or using Henry like a ketchup bottle that’s been sitting too long. “Come on, we’re losing starlight. Let’s get a move on.”

“Christ, Alex, what for?”

“It’s stopped snowing. We should go sledding.”

Henry snorts, incredulous in the quiet. “Fuck off.”

Clearly Alex has gone bonkers because there is no way on earth that Henry is dragging himself out of bed to charge down a hill of snow on a plastic death trap in freezing temperatures in the middle of the night.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Henry says, trudging through snow that’s at least twenty five centimetres deep at the rear of the White House.

At Henry’s side and tugging him and his sledge the last bit to the crest of the hill, Alex says, “It'll be fun.”

“Ah, yes.” Henry nods. Editorialised with bone-dry sarcasm, he continues, “Whenever I think about fun, frostbite is the first thing that springs to mind.”

“It is nowhere near cold enough for that.” Alex brings up their joined hands. “Plus, you’ve got your little cute gloves on. You’re good.”

The Aztec patterned gloves are secondhand from Alex, dug out of a closet cubby as he had pointedly made sure to mention that they were a gift from his abuela when he was thirteen and no longer fit.

Alex had also emphasised that Henry didn’t need to give them back. That it was a transfer of ownership. And they are very nice, the fingerless sort that convert into mittens. The yarn stretches comfortably and the pouches slip over Henry’s fingers just right.

“Everything will be fine,” Alex promises. He reaches out and clicks on Henry’s headtorch. His already lit grin is brilliantly illuminated. “Trust me.”

“There’s no question of that,” Henry returns. “I only ask why this couldn’t wait for the daytime? You know, how it’s normally done.”

Alex simply shrugs, his grin gentling into something flagrantly affectionate. “Because right now it's like the world is just us.”

And fuck, what is Henry supposed to argue against that?

“How are you winning?!” Alex drags his sledge behind him with one hand and wildly gestures with the other. “You didn’t even want to do this. I did not plan on you winning.”

Above him and at the top of the hill already, Henry props an elbow on his now vertical vehicle that’s planted in the snow, watching Alex with amusement. His boyfriend is exceptionally precious when he pouts. “My being reluctant to sledging doesn’t mean I’m not skilled at it.”

“Best of seven,” Alex huffs upon arrival.

“You have a problem. The terms were already agreed upon.”

“You scared?”

Alex then proceeds to emit the noises of a fowl.

“Resorting to primary school tactics, are we?”

Alex only lifts his brow, his expression dancing with challenge.

“I'm going to need some proper motivation, darling,” Henry says, sliding on a smirk.

“I could be a victim of clichés and offer mind-melting sex if you win but you get that all the time anyway.”

Henry breaks into helpless laughter and agrees when he finds the cold air to do so.

“So, instead, how about the next time I’m at the palace I take you up on those horseback lessons finally,” Alex says.

“Truly? You’ve always seemed—uncomfortable around them.”

“Well they are huge, intelligent beasts that can buck me off and launch me god knows how many miles an hour into the air.”

“Dramatic." He pauses, shaking his head. "Really, Alex. You don’t have to.”

“You love it and it’s something we can do together. I’d like to try it out,” Alex says and he sounds sincere. “If I don’t enjoy the experience, I won't be shy about it.”

“And if you win? What do you want?”

“Here’s where I do get pervy."

"Of course."

"I win and you let me buy you a pair of cowboy boots and a Stetson and you wear them for me.”

“Nothing else, I’m assuming.”

“Anything else would get in the way, Henry.”

“You’re on.”

Minutes and minutes later, victory is Henry’s and he graciously accepts Alex’s request for a final run, plopping down on the front of Alex’s sledge when he makes a grabby motion for Henry, his legs open. Their combined weight rips them downslope, easily the record of the night. They’re a powdery pile at the bottom when they come to a stop short of the treeline with a sharp turn and tumble off the sledge.

“You alright?” Henry asks.

“I should be asking you. You’re the one who cushioned my fall. Am I smothering you?"

“It's all fine for now, love. You’ll be nursing my aching bruises later.”

“Obviously.” Alex animates the line of his brow. “Just call me the love doctor.”

“Won’t be doing that, thanks," Henry comments. Using his teeth—due to most of him being trapped under Alex—Henry yanks back the pouch of his right mitten. He assesses the snarled wreckage of Alex’s hair that’s been freed of the headtorch and clumsily combs through it with chilled fingers. There’s a small scratch by Alex’s temple. Henry thumbs away the paper-cut thin trace of red and finds Alex’s perfect eyes. “You didn’t let me win, did you?”

“Me? Never. I lost,” Alex insists, sweetly leaning his head into Henry’s touch. His adoration is spotless if not his honesty. “Life rolls on.”

Henry considers calling Alex out but a shiver distracts him, stalls his tongue.

Alex’s arms around him tighten and with their physical arrangement, it’s plenty awkward. It’s also loving. He ridiculously presses a kiss to Henry’s wintry-wet palm. “Cold?”

Spellbound, Henry murmurs, “A bit, yeah.”

“I’ve got a way to get you warm,” Alex shares quietly.

Henry moans and licks at his lips, chasing the flavor off his mouth. “This is sinful.”

“I know,” Alex says after a long sip from his UT mug. “Nothing beats Mexican hot chocolate.”

“And the amaretto? Ugh, chef’s kiss.”

“Discovered that little addition four Christmases ago.”

Henry smiles at him and eats another mini marshmallow. “The man’s a genius.”

“Yeah, my ideas aren’t all shit that will have us needing Icy Hot the next day,” Alex replies, his gaze dropping to where their sock feet share the spindle of a kitchen stool.

Henry lightly kicks him. Kicks him again to get his full attention. “Tonight wasn’t shit.”

“No?”

“No.”

Alex sighs, abandons his drink to rub at his stubbled jaw. “Snow felt like—like a fresh start. A renewal, I guess. Getting rid of yesterday. I know it’s not that easy, that it doesn’t work like that and it’s fucking stupid—”

His heart sore and swollen, Henry closes the distance that parts them, hushes Alex’s doubt with a slow and open kiss. He kisses past the cling of sugar and spice, until it’s clean.

“I love you,” Henry says. His words are only a fraction of what he means but he knows Alex can read the spaces between. Thank you. It helps. You help.

“Love you still. Love you always.” Alex curls into him, his hand over Henry’s knee.

He’s there. He’s there, Henry knows because he can read Alex’s spaces just as well.

please forgive any mistakes. i read over it but it was written very quickly. also, i’m fairly sure there are no hills behind the white house. the grounds are pretty flat but for some reason this fic insisted on being there.

#firstprince #rwrb #rwrb fic #alex x henry #red white and royal blue #my fic #my writing

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faghubby · 1 day ago

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Hot tub

"Sure join us" Kathy said with a smile. What? We where naked in the hotel hot tub. And she just invited some guy to join us. He stepped up and noticed we were naked.

"Well if that's the rule" he said casually removing his trunks. My eyes almost popped out of my head as he exposed his cock dangling between his legs. Kathy reaches down and squeezed my dick as she made small talk with Roger. She was flirting with him. She stood up to reach for something whennshe sat back down she was sitting next to him,

"Baby did you see how big Roger's cock is" she asked me.

"No" I stuttered as she was obviously stroking it below the water.

"Paul's is really small. But he has a marvelous tounge" she told Roger.

"Stand up and show him baby. He loves when I tease him about it" Kathy continued.

"Show him, I bet it's hard thinking about me stroking Roger's over here" she smiled I stood and sure enough my 4 inches was throbbing. Roger slid up to the edge of the hot tub. It was even bigger must be 8, or 9 inches. Kathy smiled and started to suck his cock. I wanted her I slid over hoping to fuck her from behind.

"No baby eat my ass. I know you love to eat my ass" she told me. I sunk down and ate her ass as she sucked thus man's massive cock. After a few minutes I tried to fuck her again.

"Stol playing come here help me" Kathy said. Was she crazy I wasn't going to suck this man's cock. She reached back and grabbed my dick and pulled me to her.

"Go ahead there is plenty fir both of us. You suck cum time you got it from the source. She shoved his cock in my mouth. As she stroked me. I started to suck his cock she told me what to do. I focused on pleasing him Kathy suckingnhin as well I hadn't even noticed that she had stopped touching me altogether. I felt Roger big hand on my head pushing me down ever so slightly I tried to take more.

"It's his first cock, but I have known for a while he wanted one" Kathy told Roger. Roger grunted and held my head as he came. I gagged and spit cum goingeverywhere. Even coming out my nose. I dunked under the water to rinse it all off.

"Paul I want you to go back to the room. Roger is going to fuck me right here in front of everyone except you" I wanted to cry but stood up. "And now that we know you are a little fag. Why don't you wear my bikini bottoms. She handed me the little pink bottoms and watched as I put them on. She didn't even let me take a towel as I snuck back to our room hoping no one would see. I sat in her bikini waiting for over an hour before she came back wearing my swim shorts. She smiled taking them off.

"Got you a treat" she told me. As she pushed me back and fed me Roger's load. We had only done this once with her old boyfriend from college. About a year ago. And now suddenly she was all moss kinky. I ate his cum without complaining. I did like it. I loved when she took charge. It often fantasized about that night with her ex.

"I bought a new toy I was hoping you use on me" Kathy moaned. Wi offended used toys on her. "But maybe you like it if I used it on you" Kathy said as I made her cum. She rolled over and laid next to me.

"Roger completely satisfied me" she told me. "You look so cute in my bikini" she said then got up and grabbed the top.

"Let's go try it on" shs told me, then rummaged thru her overnight bag pulling out a blue velvet bag. Inside was a big thick black dildo attached to a harness. "I know it's kinda big for your first time"

"Baby, I didn't think" I told her

"That's okay we can just go to sleep" she assured me. I was still throbbing inner bikini bottoms.

"What if we tried one of the smaller ones" I suggested she smiled and jumped out of bed, she came back with two and lube.

"Role over" Kathy said giggling. She pulled her bikini bottoms down exposing my ass only she applied lube and worked in her fingers.

"Like that?" She asked I just nodded. She worked the in and out.

"Roger laid me down and fucked me while he played with my tits. She said re,oving her fingers she worked the toy in. It was alot bigger then her fingers. I felt pressure then pain as my ass gave way and let the invader in.

"Shh relax wait. Roger had my feet on his shoulders and piunded me. Don't you wish you where big enough man enough to fuck me like that." Kathy was working the toy slowly in and out.

"After seeing you drown trying to swallow Roger's seed maybe this is how we should have sex from now on" Kathy was now using long strokes slowly fucking me. I didn't even realize I was moaning. She pushed the second toy in my mouth to quiet me. I sucked the toy as she fucked my ass. I don't know how long this went onnfor but my jaw hurt and my ass was sore. When she stopped.

" go change I am sure you will like a pair of my panties" Kathy laughed I pulled off her bikini and realized I had cum in it. I rinsed off and grabbed the sexiest pair Kathy had packed and slid them on. She spooned me as we fell asleep.

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flowersforthemachines · 3 days ago

Text

Wip Wednesday (featuring post-canon Rookanis divorcees)

Recently got into thinking about all the ways Rook and Lucanis could burn and crash post-canon. And also of Lucanis's banter about putting Wardens out of their misery at the end of their Calling at their requests. And so the idea of him agreeing to do the same for Rook despite them not seeing each other for a while was born.

(Bellara is there because I have a headcanon of blighted!Bellara joining the Wardens after the events of the game. if you get it you get it)

“How did you know I was there?” he asked. “In the Eluvian room.” “Oh, I didn't know it was you, precisely," Bellara replied. "But I felt the Eluvian’s magic so I knew there'd have to be someone. Like a guest.” “Or an assassin.” “We haven't had those in a few years,” she laughed. “Which is good. I don't miss almost getting stabbed. Or poisoned.” Lucanis, if I can have one last request: please make our break-up at least somewhat public among the Crows. I've had too many dealings with assassins who want to get at the First Talon through me. “And they kept spooking the griffons.” Bellara scoffed. “How are the griffons these days, by the way?” he asked. Why. Won't you. Ask about. Rook? “Good. Better. Bigger. You can't believe how big they can grow until you see it. I'm not sure if even I believe that, and I've been here the entire time.” He couldn't pay any mind to the halls they walked through — his concentration worked only to keep himself together. All he could do was walk forward. It felt like the tiniest slip could be his undoing. “And how are the Crows?” Bellara asked in a way that begged to fill the silence. “Betrayal, succession feuds, assassination. You know, the usual.” “I don't think it's usual,” she mused. “Not for most of the world anyway.” Ask. Her. About— “How’s Rook?” The words burst out of him like a dog breaking off a leash. Bellara stopped. “Bad.” Back turned towards him, she continued, “I almost said that you can imagine, but you can't, I guess. Not like I can. The Blight, it's… It's a lot. Too much by now. When it's over, it's… It will be a relief. For her.” She let out a shaky breath and turned around. “So thank you. For coming.” We. Will. Help. “Death is my calling, after all,” he said. “It’s what I do best.”

#“lucanis and rook should retire to a cottage together” WRONG. thirty-five divorces #never have I ever been so excited thinking about what it'd be like for two people to break up #must be something in the water #oc: ghilasara thorne #rookanis #rook x lucanis #lucanis x rook #lucanis dellamorte #rook thorne #warden rook #bellara lutare #veilguard spoilers #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #flowers writes #flowers.txt

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i-creatied-au · 17 hours ago

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Harmless joke

Summary: Rook is teaching Manfred how to show middle finger. And then she is facing consequences.

"Okay, Manfred... Now, raise this finger... Yes, good!"

Rook smiled softly and patted skeleton on the sculp, when he repeated movement of the hand after her. She tried not to laugh out loud, but mischievous sparkles was playing in her eyes, when quinari thought how many chaos her little joke will creat in the Lighthouse. Oh, maybe even in Grand Necropolis?

Esha looked at Manfred, who was observing his raised middle finger, with a smirk.

"Alright, Manfred, and remember - we show this finger only to people we love or like, okay?"

Skeleton stood there for a few moments before looked at her and hissed in approval. Esha's smirk grew.

"Great! Go now, say hi to someone."

He hissed enthusiastically and hurried out of the dining hall, showing middle finger to Davrin and Lucanis on his way out. Rook watched him with a smirk, pretty pleased with herself, until she heard a sigh from the couch.

"So, what flowers do you want on your grave?" Lucanis asked, raising his eyebrow.

"You think there'll be something to bury?" Davrin, sitting near him, chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, Emmrich won't leave even a pinch of dust from Rook after he'll find out"

"You're both too pessimistic," Rook rolled her eyes and folded her arms, "It's a silly joke, Emmrich maybe will be shocked but won't kill me..."

"Is that was jokes from the Fade or Fred just showed me a middle finger while running past me?" Neve asked with puzzled look, walking into dining hall. Davrin laughed loudly and even Lucanis couldn't help but chuckled quietly, hiding it behind the cup.

"Yeah, I taught him that," Rook said with a smirk, and got a surprised look from Neve.

"Taught him? Oh, Maker, you're dead"

"We told her"

"Why is everyone thinking I'll die?" Esha huffed. "It's Emmrich we're talking about. Not some monster-"

"ESHA ORANA MERCAR!" a loud shouting outside could be heard clearly in the dining hall. Quinari twitched from surprise and from anger she heard in Emmrich's voice. She went pale, feeling how sudden panic started to raise in her.

"Orana?" Neve asked with raised eyebrow and growing smirk. "How does he knows your full name?"

"No time to answer!" Rook shouted, running up on the stairs to the small balcony and getting out from there. As soon as she run out, dining hall's doors opened and Emmrich walked in, looking angry and like he was one step from throwing someone into the Fade. He looked at other companions.

"Where?" he only asked with a tense voice. All three pointed at the open door to the balcony. They loved Rook, but not enough to stood between her and angry parent. Emmrich nodded in appreciation and walked out from the doors, what he entered, to catch quinari on her way. Trio listened in silence to the sounds outside the dining hall. There were fast steps, then sound of a spell, sounds of someone falling and cursing in qunlat. Then there was short "Emmrich, I can explain-", sounds of spell and scream "NO, NO, PUT ME DOWN!"

Trio exchanged looks with each other.

"Well... I liked spending time with Rook", Davrin sighed, leaning back on the couch.

"She was so young..." Neve sighed dramatically, sitting down.

"I think I'll buy some forget-me-not on their grave", Lucanis hummed, sipping his coffee.

----

"EEEMMRICH! PLEEEASE! EEEMM-"

Emmrich didn't react on screams under the roof, continuing his spell, what hold Rook above the ground and spin her in circle motion. Necromancer looked up with stern expression, full of determination to teach young quinari a lesson. Esha wasn't so calm, being spinned around like a children's toy. She screamed and begged to let her down, her voice trembled from fast movement.

"EMM, I'M SORRYYY! PLEEEASE! I THINK III THROW UP!"

Older man sighed heavily and lowered her down after last sentence. Firstly, because he wanted to teach her a lesson, not to torture her. Secondly, he didn't want some of her lunch ended up on his books.

Esha sat down on the floor, panting and trying to calm down her heartbeat. She raised a finger to say something, but put it down, after she couldn't find a breath to say a word.

"Just... Give me a second," she sighed out, and Emmrich huffed.

"Oh, please, take all time you need," he said with a sarcasm. "Maybe after your little break you will tell me why Manfred is very enthusiastically showing me middle fingers"

Rook chuckled quietly, but put smile away after meeting man's angry look.

"Actually, I told him, what we're showing it to the people we like. So it's actually a good to know he likes you, right?" she gave him an awkward smile, but Emmrich kept a stern look.

"You think you're so funny, aren't you?"

"I thought so... But now I can see my mistake and I promise it won't happen again" she looked at him with puppy eyes. "I'm sorry, Emmrich. It was a harmless joke, really!"

Emmrich let out a long tired sigh. He nodded, accepting the apology.

"Very well... I'll forgive you on two conditions," he helped her got up. Esha lighten up from his words and nodded actively.

"Yes, of course, what is it?"

"First - you'll explain Manfred what it's inappropriate gesture and what he should never use it "

"Okay, fair enough... And second?"

"You'll take my turns on washing dishes for the next two weeks"

"What?! Two weeks?"

"I can always make it three"

"... okay, okay," she grumbled quietly, but didn't argue further. "Though, this joke wasn't so bad. No harm done!"

"Oh hey, Manfred!" they heard Bellara's voice from the corridor and looked there. "I was... Wow! That's a little mean, don't you think?"

"Okay, I get it," Rook started walking under Emmrich's stern gaze. "I'll go talk to Manfred before he gets sad, thinking he did something wrong"

#dragon age 4 #dragon age rook #rook #oc: esha mercar #emmrich volkarin #manfred the skeleton #da manfred #not big roles but still there #lucanis dellamorte #neve gallus #da davrin #Esha is that parent/auntie what will teach kid curse words only for a joke

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mercury2venus · 1 day ago

Text

CHAPTER 2

THE INTERVIEW

" So Mr. Alexander — "

" Please, call me Kyle ." He smiled

" Okay. Kyle , tell me your story."

He looked at me with surprise. " No questions already in place ?" I let out a small chuckle. " I'd rather let you lead the interview. I speak for everyone when I say we want to know everything about you and what better way to do that is to just let you speak your piece ya know ? " I say to him.

Kyle gave me a light smile before answering.

" Of course. Well I'm from here, which I know is often debated. I was born and raised in Brooklyn till I was about 10. Then we moved to London. My mother wanted to be closer to our family,” he explained

" That explains the accent" I laughed .

" Exactly, and you're from Harlem correct? " he smiled

" Yea, I am...how'd you know that? I never told anyone." I leaned back.

" You're not the only person everyone is dying to know about Ms. Ali " he replied softly. He took a small breath. " I'm doing this interview with you because you see my work, my art for what it truly is, and I hope your readers can see your view just the same."

There goes that pretty boy villain look again. Intense and he knew it. But it takes more than some pretty blue sea green eyes and killer cheekbones to have me falter. I put on my game face. " Haute Couture was once just for the upper echelon. It came to Harlem like the second coming of Jesus. We always were fly! That's expected. But you ? You – I rambled.

" Had my ear to the streets ? That's what you said in your article." He tilted his head and smirked

I laughed. " You did though, your campaign with Dapper Dan changed the game. I myself own a few pieces.”

Kyle looked at me, those eyes of his held an emotion I rarely see. Admiration. " The brown crocodile and fox fur jacket. That was released this past fall for my ready to wear collection. "

I sat there dumfounded. I haven't worn that out yet right? No. It's currently in my closet.

Kyle continued " I know because I'm the one who sent it. It was designed with you in mind Ms. Ali. Why do you think it's a one of a kind."

Was he flirting ? I'm trippin' I have to be, I thought. "Well thank you for the jacket, that was kind of you. But honey I'm not model material you know those ladies are high class uppity . I'm a simple around the way girl. I'd expect you to design with Naomi in mind. " I rattled off. Suddenly I felt self conscious. I asked for another drink and turned back to Kyle

He smirked at me almost as if he was in awe. " Maybe that's what I like. I'm not fond of the high class and uppity as you call it. And given the chance you'd be in every design I can think of Miss Ali. " he replied softly

God he was doing wonders for my self esteem.

For the rest of the night we continued the interview. He was fascinating as he was witty. A Gemini. A Prince fan. An avid reader, lover of the arts and was diagnosed with synesthesia at an early age. Which he credits for his impeccable taste in fashion and color. I checked the clock above as I heard those around us countdown. Year 2000 was coming.

" So are you ready for the new year Ms. Ali ? he smiled lightly.

" I'm ready for everything all the time Mr. Alexander and please call me Mecca."

" Alright... Mecca, What are you doing after you leave here ?"

he asked me.

I looked into his eyes as 12 struck.

I watched his gaze find a home on my lips

" Guess I'm leaving with you, K." I smirked.

"K"... he chuckled. " I like that and I'd be more than glad to have your company for just a little longer."

the year 2000 was going to be an interesting one.

#black writers #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x black!oc #terry richmond

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oli-ribbun-ver · 17 hours ago

Text

EP 4 RAMBLE PART 3 FINAL!!

(ft the other episodes! but mainly ep 4!)

okay actually i think this is more of a gangle ramble now but thats fine

part 1

part 2

CONTINUATION OF THE GANGLE PEOPLE-PLEASER PART OF THE RAMBLE FROM PART 2!

lets see... where did i leave off... RIGHT!!

There are a lot of parts in ALL episodes where she doesn't want to cause problems for people. Which is typically normal for everyone, HOWEVER. Her idea of 'causing problems' is her opening up to people about how she truly feels, or even voicing her feelings in general if they're about someone.

I've already gone over the Pomni conversation and the bit where she has a mini breakdown, and I said I'd include even more of the other episodes in this, so! Let's begin at Ep 1!

Let's talk about what I've observed in episode one.

YES THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Notice how it's emphasized she says it quietly? (I know it's for comedic effect, but EVERYTHING seems to be important for every character, like how the darkness from the bucket on Kinger's head in Ep 2 helped him remember something about Ragatha before immediately forgetting it and then the reason he only remembers things in the darkness is explained! Seems like a minor detail that means nothing, turns out to be HUGE.

She doesn't want to cause a problem. In this case, the 'problem' would be her fully interrupting the conversation because she's worried about her friend. In the mind of a people pleaser, even if it helps someone out, you feel a sense of pressure on you when mentioning someone needs help to others, because "What if I cause a problem or make them mad? I don't wanna do that!", those thoughts are pretty normal, ESPECIALLY for people-pleasers.

"Wait, what about Zooble?" Is said so quietly, you can barely hear it. She either doesn't want her voice to be heard, or she DOES but is too scared to say it more loudly because of some version of the thoughts I described.

not as important but I'd like to note how she literally says NOTHING. like. nothing. i just think its kinda funny but also she just. doesnt give her opinion at all? she wasnt even asked if she wanted to go with them to check on kaufmo they just dgaf about her 😭

ANYWAY

This is the only time she gives her opinion and its not even an opinion HELP

Also I'm trying to save space so I don't have to make a part 4 so shortly into this, since I know I'll have to make one anyway, but I wanna mention how she hides behind her broken mask to protect herself after he screams which kinda hits different now that we know more about her mask.

But anyway, I'll make a seperate little portion of this ramble for that!

I'd like to mention too, anytime she is shoved, has something mean said to her, or has her comedy mask broken, she doesn't complain or say anything about it except for maybe an "ow". I find that interesting, because I think the reason for this is that she doesn't want anyone worrying about her. AKA, she doesn't want to cause a 'problem'.

She wants to please. One does not please by being a 'problem', right? That's probably how she thinks, anyway.

When Jax tells her to do something she doesn't want to do, whether he pressured her like that or not, it wouldn't have made a difference, because she can't bring herself to say 'no.'

In my opinion, from what it sounds like when she says "I don't think we—" she probably would've ended up saying yes regardless. Hell, if he'd just followed it up with "do it," I don't see a world in which she wouldn't, although she'd probably be more hesitant.

also why does his back bend like that he looks like hes gonna become an old man any second now HELP 😭

Also, when Jax threatens her by saying "Do it, or I'll tell Ragatha about the figurine thing," I think that really does something to her.

Every time she's either built up the confidence to say no, or someone has tried to help her say no, she's kicked down in one way or another INSTANTLY.

Episode 4 did not help with that. I believe in the next few episodes, she will not be better about saying no. She might even be worse off, knowing Ragatha thinks her being happy is annoying.

People-pleasers are in different worlds. Being the type of people-pleaser Gangle is, it's an entirely different world from others. It carries a lot of what I can only describe as delusion to it.

If Pomni had not stepped up when Gangle thought she was alone after work hours, Gangle would have abstracted. I am a firm believer in that. She was breaking. Losing her mind.

Gangle tells herself to stop trying to achieve her dream while breaking down over the fact her efforts to achieve her dream might not be enough.

So let's go there, and get a

Closer look at Gangle's mental state.

(and why she's most likely the least unwell character)

Gangle is mentally ill. Everyone knows that already, but to what extent?

I'm not sure if we'll ever know.

But what we do know is this.

More likely than not, Gangle almost abstracted in Ep 4. And out of everyone who has EVER vented so far, Gangle has shared relatively nothing. Even after the Spudsy's adventure, what we've seen so far is her never mentioning her feelings except that she feels like she messed everything up.

Gangle doesn't know how to help herself. Zooble can make her feel better, but not for long, because Gangle doesn't think she can get better.

When she was about to vent to Pomni, she stopped as soon as she felt like her feelings were REALLY about to come loose, put her new happy mask back on, said she had no time to talk about her feelings, and fled.

What I think is that Gangle thinks everyone is more important than her, so when she FINALLY got to be important she was happy. Really, truly happy.

The worst thing you can do is make someone think they're not wanted or loved.

Something that makes me sad is that Gangle does not feel wanted or loved.

Gangle was almost gone in Episode 4.

We almost lost Gangle. Had Gangle abstracted, she'd die without ever feeling like people cared about her.

For all we know, she could be the first person to abstract after Kaufmo.

I personally believe that.

The end of Episode 4 was a su¡cide attempt. (is that word allowed? im not sure..l ill censor it anyway)

I saw someone say this in the comment section of either the episode itself or a reaction video, and I completely agree.

They say before people commit su¡cide, they have a sudden boost of joy. Everything will be over soon. Why not enjoy that fact?

I think it was a subconscious su¡cide, at the very least.

She was happy. For the first time without a happy mask to hide how she feels deep down, she was happy.

She had a sudden boost of happiness, and then stepped backwards into oncoming traffic. When someone experiences a near-death situation by their own hand, there's a moment of regret before they are gone. I've experienced it myself, and it is horrid. That feeling is one I will never be able to forget. Even if I never so much as blacked out, I felt faint, and I will NEVER forget that fear, that horror, dread, regret.

The shock. Wondering if it was truly me who did it.

And I think. That is what Gangle experienced.

And then, that feeling was brushed off by Caine, whether she knew he doesn't understand the feeling of wanting to disappear or not, she was quick to blame herself for it all. Both about her performance to Caine, and alone, to nobody but herself.

"I guess I just... cracked under the pressure I suppose."

And maybe, just maybe.

That crack will never heal.

Thank you for listening and reading my ramble, everyone!! I appreciate it more than you know!

Bye bye for now, friends! Have a lovely day!

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quillsandtypos · 3 days ago

Text

The Light of Laughter

Words: 7.7 k

Pairings: none, this is a platonic/familial fic

Characters: Lee!Peter, Ler!Tony, Ler!Bucky, Lee!Wanda, Ler!Steve,

Warnings: a lot of tickling and some older brother/mentor tickling so if that’s not your thing please feel free to sit this one out

Author’s note: This is a squealing Santa fic for the lovely @inneedofsupervision I’m so sorry your gift is late but I hope I make up for the wait. I also wanted to give a massive thanks to @squealing-santa for running this event and for graciously helping me with the deadline.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bell rang, sending chairs scuffing across the floor as students pushed their way out of the classroom. Kids pushed past him, knocking shoulders with him in the chaos as Peter waded to the back of the room.

“You don’t have to wait for me, ya know?” Ned said, roughly shoving his stuff in his folders.

Peter’s brows furrowed. He took one look at the mess on Ned’s desk and started helping him pack his things up. “Yes, I do. I’m the reason we got separated in this class, and we always walk out together.”

Ned brushed off his help, but continued shoving things away. “Aww thanks Peter.” He picked up a notebook paper that had floated down to the floor somehow. “You'd make such a good girlfriend,” he said, then frozen with the paper still between his fingers.

Peter gently pried it from his hands, sliding it into his backpack, sensing that all of the tests were starting to get to him. “Was that what you meant to say?”

Ned finally dethawed, going back to the task at hand. “We’re not acknowledging it.”

Peter chortled, fighting back a comment about the blush on his face. “Yes we are.”

Ned pointed a finger at him. “Not if you still want your christmas present.”

Peter mimicked zipping his lips, not wanting to risk losing his gift. He didn’t have to use his spidey senses to guess what it was. Ned had been dropping quote unquote hints to him about his present all week, and Peter had figured out it was legos by Wednesday.

He filed the last of Ned’s papers away, which was less of putting papers in folders, and mostly a lot of shoving. Peter didn’t even know how he managed to collect this many papers in the first place.

“You aren’t going to be able to find any of your papers when we come back from break,” Peter remarked, picking up a broken folder that was nearly split in half with all the papers inside of it.

Ned shrugged. “I’ll just throw out anything I don’t need when January comes.”

“Then get a new folder for the semester so you can break it by summer?” Peter asked, fighting back a grin. He knew he was pushing his luck with his christmas gift on the line, but Peter had a gift for him as well, and he wasn’t afraid to bargain his way back into Ned’s good graces.

“Exactly,” Ned nodded. “See, I’m glad you get it.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“By Mr. Smith!” Peter called, waving to his teacher as they walked out the door.

“Bye boys, stay safe over break. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He said, closing the door on them on their way out.

The hallways were a mess of hustle and bustle, everyone eager to escape the building as fast as possible. With the thought of finals erased from their minds, and their warm beds waiting for them at home to catch up on some overdue sleep, no one was wasting another minute in that dreadful building.

Peter tapped the top of the frame as Ned and him pushed through the doors, letting the cold New York winter air blow into the hallways, sending Christmas lights fluttering in the breeze.

“My gift?” Peter asked, once they were outside and away from the entrance.

“I want mine first,” Ned said.

Peter cocked his head at him, a coy smile playing at his lips. “How’d you know I bought you one?”

Ned deadpanned. “Oh come on Peter, we do the same thing every year. We give each other gifts on the last day of school before break.”

Peter dropped the act. “Fine.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small box covered messily in red candy cane wrapping. As he handed it to Ned he realized he’d missed a spot, and he hoped he didn’t notice.

Luckily, Ned tore it open as fast as he always did, barely noticing the wrapping before he immediately threw it away.

“Do you know what it is?” Peter asked, as Ned continued staring at it without saying anything.

Ned’s brows furrowed. “I don’t think so.”

Peter tapped on the clear box. “It’s a Palladium core I encased in resin.”

Ned’s eyes went wide. “No, it’s not-” he trailed off, but Peter nodded.

“Look at the front of it.”

Ned flipped it around and gasped, holding a hand to his mouth. “You got it signed by him?”

Peter smiled. “Yup. This is one of the ones that was inside him,” Peter stopped, holding up a finger. “Wait, not like that.”

Ned grabbed him by the shoulders. “Who cares! Peter! This is the best gift ever!”

Peter grinned even wider as his friend shook him rather aggressively, the zippers on his backpack clanging with the movement. It really hadn’t been that difficult to come by, Tony had just had to replace his, and when Peter asked about it, Tony had happily complied.

He thought it was a little weird at first, but he had just said, “kids these days” then scoffed and walked off, leaving Peter with the core.

Ned stopped shaking him, a frown overtaking his face. “Aww, but all I got you was legos.”

Peter’s face lit up at the mention. “No, are you kidding me? I’m about to get a bunch of sciency stuff from the avengers, all I want are some legos.”

“Alright, fine,” Ned groaned, handing him a bright gift bag.

Peter took it and ripped all of the tissue paper out of the bag. “Yes!” he cheered. “All I needed was the hulk to complete my set.”

Ned raised a brow. “Do the avengers ever find it weird that you collect lego figurines of them?”

Peter felt his cheeks warm. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never told them.”

“Heard,” Ned nodded.

“Alright, see you in a few days?” Ned asked, bumping his fist against his.

Peter finished the handshake. “Yep, I’ll see you then.”

Usually the two would walk home on the last day, but this year was different. As the snow began to lightly fall over the city, Peter was headed towards the avengers tower for a few days.

Aunt May had won some sort of radio contest back in November to go on a Christmas cruise for five days. She was overjoyed, until she found out she had only been given a ticket for one person. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him alone for Christmas, stating that she would rather work double shifts at the community center for two weeks than ever even think about leaving him by himself in New York. Peter was grateful she didn’t know about his nightly patrols, fearful that she might very well have a heart attack, but he needed to come up with some way to convince her to go anyway. Peter knew she needed a break, but after almost a month of trying to reassure her he’d be fine, even he was starting to run out of ways to convince her.

Peter was ranting about it to Tony one day in the lab, and he’d offered him up a solution on a silver platter.

Apparently, as long as he was staying with the Earth’s mightiest heroes, May was willing to let him stay in New York without her. He’d still had to assure her a dozen times that he would be fine with her leaving him on christmas, but they’d managed to pull it off. Just before school that day, she’d left for the airport with her bags. She’d placed a kiss on his cheek, told him to have fun, and to text lots of pictures. She added on as she stood in the doorframe, that she wanted him to be good for Tony. Peter fought the urge to laugh, considering it would be more fitting if she told Tony to behave himself.

He’d heard rumors of Tony Stark’s infamous Christmas parties, and had been fighting the urge to ask him if he’d be invited for the last week.

The walk passed by faster than it usually did, his mind buzzing with thoughts of what he could get up to for the next five days. As he approached the tower, he looked up at the full height of it. The A was already accumulating a fair amount of snow on top of it as the gray skies above it seemed to swirl around the building.

Peter heaved in a breath before he rang the doorbell. There would be more heroes in the tower than he was used to for the next few days. Tony was inviting all kinds of people from all corners of the universe for the week. He’d already met so many of his heroes, and now he had the potential to interact with even more.He’d tried to tease it out of Tony, but he’d only held a finger to his lips and told him he’d find out eventually. However, here Peter was, and the day was finally here.

At last, he gathered up the courage to actually ring the bell, and he listened intently to the sound echoing through the first few levels of the tower.

It was always a mystery who would open the door for him at the Avengers tower. More often than not, it was Happy or Pepper, but occasionally he would get one of the other’s.

Today, he was surprised to be met with no one. The door unlocked on its own, and it just swung open, seemingly on a stray breeze. Peter walked in cautiously, his footsteps light, but nothing seemed glaringly wrong except for the mysterious door. He quietly hung his bag on the hanger Tony had drilled into the wall, and began tip toeing into the living room.

He turned the corner, peeking out from behind the door frame when he spotted Wanda, and another woman he didn’t recognize.

“Oh, hi Peter!” Wanda called. “The other’s are upstairs in various places.”

“Oh, thanks for letting me in,” he said, staying a distance away from them. They seemed to be in the middle of something before he walked in, the other person on the couch blushing furiously.

Wanda stood, placing her glass of wine on the table beside her. “Oh, I almost forgot, Spider-man this is Tele, Tele this Spider-man.” Wanda turned back to Tele. “Or I guess I should specify, this is our world's Spider-man. God, that’s going to get difficult when everyone gets here.”

At Wanda’s words, Peter’s memory came flooding back to him. “Ohhh, your Peter three’s friend.”

They nodded. “Well it’s nice to officially meet you, but Tony said I should meet him up in the lab when I get here, so I should probably go.”

“Go,” Wanda waved. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up in the next couple days.”

Peter hoped she was right, he’d been wondering if she’d be in the tower just yet. He had heard she’d been sent on a mission with Tele, Peter three, and Natasha, and he had a lot of questions for her. The occupants of the tower didn’t always notice it, but they had a tendency of telling him things he shouldn’t necessarily know. Not that Peter was complaining, but it was funny how all of their spy training and stoic personalities all softened when they were comfortable around each other.

Peter stepped into one of the elevators and pressed the twelfth floor. It smoothly rode up the line to his floor and when the doors opened, his eyes widened at the winter wonderland in front of him.

It was like he was stepping into santa’s workshop. The billionaire had strung up garland anywhere he could without making it a fire hazard, and there were so many fairy lights strung from the ceiling that the brightness replaced the glow of the regular lab lights.

Peter walked around, taking it all in.

Stockings hung from each large piece of equipment, their names listed on each of them in glitter glue that looked like Morgan had helped. The green and red iron man suit was on display in the middle of the lab, and each of the center poles in the room were wrapped to look like candy canes.

“You like it?” Tony called from the back, his voice echoing a little with all the metal in the room.

Peter spun around, trying to observe all of it in as big of a quantity as he could. “LIke it? I think Santa Claus threw up in here.”

“That better be a compliment Parker, you know I’m not afraid to flip you to the naughty list and take away your presents.” Peter laughed, hearing the teasing in his tone. It was always a challenge when he arrived in the lab to find Tony. Some days he thought the man was purposely making a game of it, but today he found him behind a few monitors with ease.

Peter looked at the screen, leaning over Tony’s desk to look at what he’d been working on. “Funny, you’re not the first person to tell me that today.”

“Well, maybe that means you deserve it,” Tony said, tweaking his ribs.

“Hey!” Peter squeaked, puberty immediately leaving his voice.

“Hey is for horses, what’s it doing in your mouth?” Tony remarked without taking his eyes off of the monitor. Peter backed up, making sure to keep his arms close to his sides.

“What’d you call me up for? What are we working on today?” he asked eagerly.

Tony spun around towards him, looking up at him. “You, my sticky friend, are not working on anything for the next five days.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned. He could work on so many upgrades with all the time he was going to have in the tower. With no school, and no Aunt May, he had nothing stopping him.

Tony held his hands up. “No, I don’t want to hear a whining. I signed on to house a sixteen year old for a few days, not a five year old.”

Peter wanted to say that he was not acting like a five year old, but he feared that would only prove Tony’s point. However, he had never had such an ideal time to work, and he couldn’t give up on the idea that easily. “But I have so many new ideas for my suit.”

“Nope,” Tony said, dramatically popping the ‘p’. “You, my friend, are going to take a few days off, and so am I. There are people being put in place to keep an eye here on earth, and none of those people are you and me.”

“What was the point in decorating the lab then?” Peter asked.

Tony looked at him like the answer to his question was quite obvious, and Peter was reminded of how truly dramatic his mentor was.

Tony patted his back, getting to his feet. “Consider it me paying you back for that time I let you go to space.”

Peter furrowed his brows. “But you didn’t let me? I went without asking.”

Tony slowly turned to him. He stared at Peter for a moment before he started rapidly jabbing his hands into Peter’s midsection wherever he could manage. “Is this really a point you’d like to be arguing five days before Christmas, Parker?”

Peter boyishly giggled as he jumped out of the way. He should’ve known better than to nitpick Tony when he was telling a story. “Noho!”

Tony only followed the teenager, wrapping an arm around him and fluttering his fingers on his neck. “Are you sure?” he teased.

“Yes,” Peter laughed. He lightly pushed him away, taking care to not use too much of his strength considering Tony didn’t even have a suit on.

“Alright, spiderling, I believe you for now. So, are we clear about the rules with lab time?”

Peter couldn’t hide his disappointment, but he shook his head in agreement. “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Okay, just a couple other ground rules, and then I’ll let you go.” He clapped his hands together. “We just discussed number one, so you already know no lab time for the next five days, I want you to have some time off. Rule number two, no patrols either, it goes under the time off clause.” Peter groaned, but Tony continued on.

“Rule number three, you have to help Morgan, Pepper, and I wrap gifts because I bought too many gifts for everyone. Rule number four, you need to send your Aunt May an update at least once a day-” Peter started to protest, but Tony held a hand up.

“Ah-ah those are the rules I agreed to for taking you on. If you don’t follow them your Aunt will have my head and yours.”

Peter held his hands up. “I was gonna say that it shouldn’t be a problem because I've already texted her twice today, but okay.”

“Sure you were,” Tony chortled.

“I was!” Peter scoffed.

Tony pushed his reading glasses up on his head. “Well aren’t you nyc’s little golden boy.”

Peter paused, uncertain what to do with the comment. Luckily, Tony moved on from most things pretty quickly.

“Okay, rule number 5, no more calling me Mr. Stark. You are quite literally spending Christmas with me, don’t make it weird. Number six, no shenanigans?”

Peter cocked a brow, and Tony shrugged. “What qualifies as a shenanigan?”

He pointed a finger at him. “Don’t play dumb with me kid.”

Peter gawked at him. “I’m not, what does that mean?”

“Well I don’t want to give you an example, that’ll just give you ideas.”

Peter threw his hands up, and Tony’s facade cracked a little, no longer able to bite down on his smile. “I’m messing with you web slinger, you know I support mischief.”

He pointed a finger at Peter. “Just don’t tell Loki I said that.”

“You have my word, Mr. Stark.”

Tony glared at him and Peter took a preemptive step back. “Sorry, Tony. It’ll take a little getting used to.”

Tony began walking out of the lab, and Peter followed. When Tony came to a sudden stop, so did Peter. “Oh, also, you can come to the Christmas party, but you can’t drink.”

“Oh, come on,” Peter protested.

Tony sighed. “Alright, fine, you can have a singular drink.” Peter began uttering his thanks, and telling him about how responsible he will be, but Tony shushed him. “We’ll pretend we’re in Europe to ease my conscience. You have to promise me you won’t tell your aunt though.”

“I promise,” he agreed, eyes shining. He honestly hadn’t expected to be invited to the christmas party, let alone allowed to drink, and he wouldn’t do anything to make Tony regret it.

“Alright, good,” Tony patted him on the back. “Now be a proper teenager and go bother people or hide in your room, your pick.”

Peter laughed good naturedly, knowing Tony didn’t truly mean it. Or at least, he was fairly sure.

Tony snapped his fingers. “Oh, also if you could bother resident broody and the star spangled banner, that would be the best present you could give me. Truly priceless.”

Peter smiled, heading up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. “I think I can manage that.”

Tony gave him a thumbs up and they went their separate ways. Peter was surprised he hadn’t received a lecture on gift giving, specifically, on how he should have a lack of it. Last year he had gotten Tony a singular gift for the holidays, just a simple frame of the photo of the two of them, and Tony had given him a gift for ten weeks straight to prove a point. Apparently, billionaires didn’t appreciate teenagers with limited funds using their money on them.

Peter unlocked the door to his room, and jumped on top of his soft duvet. His body went limp, the mattress soaking up every bit of his exhaustion. He sighed contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut. He would just lay here for a little bit, and then he would wander around the tower and visit with everyone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter woke up bleary eyed and still in his clothes from the day before. He rolled, trying to find where his clock was, and realized there was no more bed underneath him. His stomach lurched as his hands scrambled for purchase. He grabbed his sheets, which slowed his fall. He sighed in relief, still half delirious. He stayed there for a second, still trying to figure out what had happened when the sheets lost their hold.

He landed with a thunk and groaned in pain. Apparently, his spidey senses weren’t awake either. He wiped at his eyes, trying to make sense of everything.

He looked up at the clock on his nightstand and had to rub his eyes and read it again to make sure he was seeing correctly. Peter had woken up at nine am the next day.

He wrestled himself out of his sheets and threw them back on the bed. He cursed his teenage body mixed with a spider bite for needing so much sleep. He had probably already missed so many new arrivals while he was sleeping.

As he pulled out some clothes from his dresser, he realized there were decorations all over his room too. He must not have noticed it when he’d walked in yesterday, but someone had done up his room as well. Garland hung from each of his furniture pieces like icicles from the edge of a house, his rug had been changed out to a fluffy red and green one, and he even had some festive attire that someone had thrown in with the rest of his regular clothes.

He opted to forgo the red and green in terms of clothing for the time being. He was already likely going to be the youngest in every room, and he didn’t need everyone looking at him like a child because he was wearing an elf onesie. Besides, that would only bring more attention to him while he was trying to learn about all of the new people.

He quickly showered and threw on his clothes, absentmindedly pushed his hair back and headed out the door.

He ran down the steps at full speed towards the kitchen as his stomach growled. He couldn’t believe he’d slept so late, he’d make sure to set an alarm tomorrow. It was so stupid of him to sleep for so long.

A door clicked open in front of him, and he stopped just a few inches from where his nose would’ve collided with it.

“Little spider,” Natasha laughed, seeing him as the door shut. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

She continued walking, so Peter followed. “I accidentally fell asleep yesterday afternoon when I got home from school, and I just woke up.”

“Oh trust me, you didn’t miss much.” Natasha waved a hand. “The only person in the tower who doesn’t live here went to bed early, Steve and Bucky went on our last grocery trip till after the holidays, and Wanda made a few pie crusts.”

“I know, but-” Peter started, then stopped himself. Natasha had said he didn’t miss much, but she had been a part of this family for longer than he had. He had never spent a Christmas with the Avengers before, and it all felt so new and exciting to him. This was all old business to Natasha, she’d probably find him quite silly.

“What?” she asked, slowing down.

Peter stopped at the next landing to face her. “No, it’s probably dumb. Nevermind.”

“I’m sure it’s not dumb, come on, tell me. Or if it is dumb, then I will forget I heard anything.”

Peter’s lips twitched. “It’s just.” He sighed, but then decided he’d go for it anyway. “I’ve never been here during the holidays, and I just don’t want to miss any of it. I want to soak it all up, ya know?”

He scratched at the top of his head, but then abruptly put his hand back down, thinking the movement looked weird.

Natasha leaned against the stair railing. “Peter,” she smiled. “I was once new to this team too. I know the feeling of wanting to soak up every moment with this family. But trust me, they aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you.”

Peter smacked himself in the forehead. It had only occurred to him till after Natasha said it but it seemed obvious now. He should’ve known that she would understand. It was so silly of him to think he was the only one who had ever felt like this. Still, he knew Natasha wouldn’t take well to him opening the holiday with apologizing to her, so he moved on. “I know that, it just doesn’t feel like it.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “And that’s okay too. It took me a long time to get used to it.” She laughed. “Sometimes I think I’m still getting used to it. But remember, this is a marathon, not a sprint. You’re here for five whole days, don’t run yourself ragged trying to do everything.”

Peter blew a breath out, feeling a little less high strung. “Thanks Natasha.”

She squeezed his arm. “Anytime little spider.”

“Does that mean I can call you big spider?” Peter asked, now following her down the stairs.

She shook her head, chuckling. “I guess so. Just don’t ever say it in front of Clint, or I may have to kill you.”

“Noted.” Peter nodded even though she wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t certain he would ever be brave enough to call her that to her face, but he saved it away just in case he needed it.

He entered the kitchen, counting four bodies occupying the space, and all sorts of delicious smells wafting around the area.

Natasha leaned in beside him, whispering. “Like I said, pace yourself.”

She walked off, continuing down the steps, and leaving Peter in the chaos. He stood completely still for a moment, unsure of what to do. It almost seemed like they were doing some sort of dance. Pots and pans flew above heads, spoons were passed back and forth, footsteps were carefully made around each other like they had choreographed it all in advance. Peter was worried that if he stepped in, he might throw them off rhythm.

His stomach growled angrily, reminding him that while his bite also made him able to sleep longer, it also meant he needed to eat much more.

“Guys, can I cut into the kitchen to get breakfast?” Peter yelled over simmering liquids and frying meats.

Wanda was the first to turn towards him. “Oh, morning Peter. Can I grab something for you?” She looked at the chaos surrounding her with wide eyes. “I think that would be easier at this point.”

“Yes please, if you could hand me the poptarts, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Oh, do try the new chocolate flavored ones we got spiderling,” Thor said, turning around, whisk in hand. “They are quite delicious.”

“Yeah, I’ll have those if we’ve got ‘em.” Peter nodded. “Please,” he added on quickly.

Wanda flicked her fingers, and the pop tart box flew out of the cabinet. Peter was about to ask how she managed to direct her power so casually without hitting anyone, but then he realized the box was already in his hand.

“Hey, wait, we don’t just hand out food for free,” Bucky scoffed. “I thought we agreed the kitchen was a no touch zone when there were chefs in it.”

“Bucky, you’re making brownies. Calm down, you aren’t cooking up world peace,” Sam called out from the other side of the kitchen.

Bucky pointed a dirty spatula at him with such aggression that Peter let out a laugh. “That’s what you think, but for all you know, the moment you taste these all your problems could be cured.”

“Not unless your attitude disappears,” Sam guffawed.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Wanda, are you going to let this happen?”

Wanda looked about near her breaking point. “If by this you mean letting the boy eat his breakfast, then yes I do.”

Bucky groaned, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder who the teenager in the room was. “Can we at least make him help us?”

Wanda leaned against the counter, her hands on her hips. “Peter, I am currently dealing with actual children, so would you mind helping Bucky with the brownies when you’re done eating your breakfast? Steve was supposed to help him, but now none of us know where he’s got to.”

Peter nodded, shoving a poptart in his mouth. “Of course, I don’t mind helping.”

Wanda smiled fondly at him. “Thank you.” She covered the side of her mouth like it would prevent the others from hearing her as she fake whispered. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

The others protested, but she paid them no mind as she went back to her food. Peter took a few more minutes eating his fill in pop tarts until he joined Bucky in the kitchen. The sounds of automatic whisks, squeezing bottles, and bowls clanking against one another filled his ears.

“Alright, have you ever made brownies before?” Bucky asked, quite seriously.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, who hasn’t? They come in a box.”

Bucky rolled his eyes for the second time in five minutes. “Homemade brownies Peter. Come on, who do you think I am?”

Peter held his hands up innocently. “Wasn’t trying to take away your brownie points.”

Bucky raised a brow. “Was that a pun?”

Peter tensed. “Maybe?”

He could tell Bucky was desperately trying to bite back a smile, and Peter snickered. “Alright, well, homemade brownies are a much more highly involved process.”

“Okay, so what do we need?” Peter asked, pushing his sleeves up to wash his hands.

Bucky listed off the ingredients and Peter rummaged around the kitchen to find them. However, even after five minutes of looking in the fridge, Peter couldn’t find the eggs.

He poked his head out of the fridge. “Guys, I think we’re out of eggs.”

He looked over to see Thor grimacing. “My apologies, between my breakfast this morning, and clarifying the mead, I think I used the last of them.”

Peter brushed him off, now opening the freezer. “That’s fine, we can just use applesauce.”

“No, we cannot!” Bucky protested. “It calls for eggs.”

Sam leaned around Wanda to look at them. “Barnes, have you never heard of a substitute?”

“No, you have to do the recipe exactly as it says, otherwise it won’t turn out.”

Wanda made cuckoo signs around his head, and Bucky whipped around. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Wanda chirped, going back to whisking. She shot a wink at Peter and it took nearly all of his laughter to not burst out laughing.

Bucky threw his hands up. “What? I’m serious, you should never substitute things. It won’t turn out the same.”

Peter cocked a brow. “Didn’t you grow up during the depression?”

“Are you calling me old?” Bucky asked, his voice lilting.

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No! I mean, wouldn’t it have been common for you to have to substitute things?”

“Yes, which is why it’s not good!” Bucky nearly yelled.

Wanda stirred her soup. “My family had to substitute things all the time, and we were fine.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “And you’re telling me all of them tasted the same?”

Wanda nodded patiently. “Yes, you just have to know what you’re doing.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Are you saying I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Wanda shrugged. “I mean, you didn’t even know that you should substitute applesauce for eggs. That’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you agree Peter?”

Peter nodded, knowing better than to be on the opposing team of Wanda, and Tony’s earlier words playing in his mind. Bucky flicked him in the arm. “Ow,” Peter winced.

Wanda continued adding things to her soup as she spoke to Bucky. “It seems to me that this is more of a skill issue.”

Bucky sighed. “Wanda,” he said, his tone warning. Peter kept his eyes on both of them, sensing the rising tension and wondering where it would go.

“What?” she asked innocently, her eyes widened. “I think you might just be bad at baking, it’s alright, not everyone can be good at it.”

“Maximoff, I swear,” he started.

“Barnes, don’t swear in front of the kid!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Yeah!” Peter agreed indignantly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “He’s sixteen, he curses all the time.”

Wanda propped a hand up on her hip. “Peter, cover your ears, don’t listen to the man with the potty mouth.”

Peter followed her lead, putting his hands up on his head. “Yeah, Bucky, how dare you accuse me of such things!”

Bucky looked done with both of them. “Peter, you say shit about seventy times every time you’re in the lab.”

“How dare you! Peter would never do that!” Wanda said, looking like she was about to burst with how much laughter she was holding back.

“You know what Maximoff?” he said, his lip twitching.

She took a step closer. “What?” she asked, raising her brows. Peter backed up, having the innate sensation that one of them was going to snap and it wasn’t going to go well.

They were both perfectly still for a moment, and then Bucky struck. He grabbed her by the stomach with his metal arm, too quick for her to use her magic against him, and began scratching at her sides.

“Bucky,” she squealed, her legs kicking out at him and continually missing.

Peter did his best to fade into the shadows, suddenly forgetting his alliance. He knew how quickly the tables could turn, and how ruthless Bucky could be. Wanda hit out at his metal arm, her magic getting lost in between her laughter. “Are you going to stop giving me a hard time?” he asked.

“Nohoho,” she giggled, twitching all over the place as his fingers darted across her skin.

“Peter!” Wanda yelped. “Help me!”

Peter hesitated for a moment, but decided it would be in his best interest to keep the scarlet witch on his side.

With a quiet, “thwip!”, he webbed Bucky’s metal arm, pulling it behind his back to give Wanda an escape.

She fell to the floor in a heap of laughter, and Bucky let her go, not bothering to continue torturing her.

Peter was surprised he didn’t put up more of a fight, until he realized Bucky was slowly turning towards him.

“Wait,” Peter said, holding his hands in front of him. He had just poked a sleeping bear.

“Did you just web me?” Bucky asked, watching Peter out of the corner of his eye.

Peter could feel Thor behind him, and Sam watching the whole thing in interest now. All of his senses were suddenly alert, like he was about to go into battle. What all of his systems were currently telling him was that he needed to run, and quickly.

Without answering Bucky’s question, he leapt over the kitchen counter, sprinting towards the steps.

“Oh no you don’t, you pest,” he heard Bucky call after him.

Peter ran full force through the living room, thinking that if he could just make it to the steps and get the door shut behind him, then maybe he could make his escape.

He was a few steps away, just only a few more seconds and he would be free. His hand reached for the door, and he pushed it open. He got a foot in the door when a familiar cold arm wrapped around his middle.

“No!” Peter yelled, grabbing a hold of the door frame. He attempted to pull himself forward, but Bucky merely spidered his fingers in Peter’s armpits and he immediately lost his grip, his arms shooting down to protect himself.

Bucky threw him over his shoulder with an ease that Peter wasn’t used to.

“That’s not fair,” he protested. He tried to wiggle out of Bucky’s arms, but there was no give.

“No, what’s not fair is that you all get to act like little shits, and annoy me without any repercussions,” Bucky said, walking towards the couch.

Peter began to panic, squirming around like a bug caught in a web. He knew the moment that Bucky had him pinned he was done for.

“Bucky! Wait! We promise we won’t bother you anymore!” Peter said as a last ditch effort.

“You promise?” Bucky asked, standing directly over the couch.

“Promise.” Peter said, earnestly.

Bucky paused, beginning to set Peter down. Peter blew out a sigh of relief, then, Bucky reversed his direction and threw Peter forward onto the couch. “Too bad, I want my fun now.”

He jumped on top of him, pinning his arms above his head, and sitting on his thighs.

“Bucky, Bucky, wait!”” Peter called, nervous giggles already leaking out of him.

“Wait for what?” Bucky asked, his metal arm hovering over Peter’s stomach.

“Wanda, hELP!” Peter squealed, but was cut off as Bucky’s hand began fluttering everywhere he could reach.

“Just because you can’t bake, doesn’t mean you need to take it out on the rest of us!” Peter giggled.

“You know, I was going to take it easy on you since you just finished finals, but nevermind,” Bucky huffed. He began squeezing Peter’s ribs, softly brushing his thumb into each one.

“I take it back!” Peter wheezed, descending into frenzied cackles. It was a cruel move, targeting his ribs like that. It always sent Peter reeling, his body not knowing what to do with all of the sensations his skin was taking in, and Bucky was especially good at making him shriek.

“Oh, do you now?” Bucky teased, a terrifying smirk on his face.

“Yes!” Peter tugged at his arms in vain. It was no use, with Bucky at his full strength, and Peter weakened by his laughter, he couldn’t overpower him very easily. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Wanda save me!” he yelled, deciding it was in his best interest to rely on someone else’s power.

Peter faintly heard the sound of a door clicking open and prayed it was Tony. He also had a tendency of tickling him, but at least maybe he would accidentally distract Bucky long enough that he could escape.

To his horror though, the worst possible person had shown up. “What’d he do this time, Buck?” Steve asked, sounding unsurprised.

“Be a little shit like usual,” Bucky shrugged.

Steve came out of his peripheral vision, and walked in front of him, briefly wiggling his fingers over his socked feet. “STEVE!” Peter yelled, kicking out as much as he could with Bucky’s weight on his legs.

“Wow, I always forget how ticklish you are,” Steve tutted, removing his hand.

“Not helping!”

Bucky tasered his sides with his fingers. “He’s not trying to, he’s on my side unlike you other assholes.”

“Wanda!” Peter tried again, sensing the team up that was about to happen.

Bucky looked up at Steve, not stopping his attack on Peter while he did. “Oh yeah, Steve, would you mind going to deal with the red head over there?”

“What did she do?” Steve asked as if there wasn’t a teenager dying of laughter right beside them.

Bucky gestured down towards him, and Peter’s face lit up red. Something about being destroyed by laughter while they held a casual conversation made the sensations so much worse. “Same as Peter.”

Steve nodded. “Ah, I see.” He began walking towards her, and though Peter knew it would only further nail his coffin shut, he yelled over at her.

“Wanda save yourself!”

Bucky cocked his head, momentarily pausing. “You really don’t give up do you?”

Peter shook his head. “Friendly neighborhood spiderman.” He smiled sheepishly.

Bucky positioned his hands atop Peter’s ribs. “Well spiderman, you are far too ticklish to be this risky.”

Peter shrugged, his eyes alight with mirth. “At least I can bake.”

Bucky deadpanned, his fingers wrapping around the backs of Peter’s ribcage. “Okay, now you’re just asking for it.”

Bucky attacked, and Peter immediately fell back into his laughter. Loud cackles burst from his mouth as Bucky squeezed higher up on his ribs.

“Peter, oh my god, stay still, I’m trying to count all of your ribs.”

“Nohoh!” Peter squealed, having played this game with Tony too many times.

“Well now we’re going to have to start all over again,” Bucky huffed, squeezing each rib from the bottom to the top. Peter was going berserk, having one of his worst spots targeted for so long. He briefly opened his eyes and saw Wanda being thrown on the couch next to him. Steve didn’t give her a chance to escape and went straight for her neck.

He screeched as Bucky reached the tops of his ribs again, praying he wouldn’t start the process all over again. However, it was only when he felt Bucky’s fingers climbing higher still that he began to panic.

“Bucky, don’t you dare!”

Bucky paused for a moment, and Peter heaved in deep breaths while he was still able to. “Oh.” Bucky leaned in, smirking in a way that Peter knew that no amount of pleading would convince him to move anywhere else.

“I dare,” he hissed, then jammed his fingers into Peter’s armpits. Peter didn’t make any noise for a moment. He dug his heels into the couch, trying to find the leverage to throw Bucky off of him, he twisted around from side to side, trying to dislodge Bucky’s fingers. He would almost get adjusted to one side, then Bucky would start tickling his other armpit. However, his body was only able to contain the noise so long, and he burst into a scream.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Peter panickedly squeaked.

Bucky turned towards the other couch. “See, Wanda? I told you he curses.”

Peter could just barely hear her screams of laughter above his own, but he could’ve sworn she told him to shut up.

“Now,” Bucky said, turning his attention back to him. “If we can just manage to convince you I can bake.”

Peter was writhing on the couch, his laughter beginning to make his abdomen hurt. Though, he was admittedly not fighting as hard as he could. “You can’t though!” he yelled out.

“Okay, seriously, does anything tire you out?” Bucky said, momentarily pausing his hands.

Peter shook his head, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “You’re maybe the only person I know who’s as stubborn as that guy back there,” Bucky teased, pointing to Steve, who was currently making light work of Wanda’s giggles.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Peter smiled, heaving in air.

“It is one,” he smiled. He ruffled Peter’s hair gently, which Peter doubted he’d attempt if he wasn’t currently pinned underneath him. “However,” Bucky started, sitting upright. “Just like him, it’ll get you tickled a lot.”

Bucky released his arms, and Peter’s brows furrowed. He started to sit up, but Bucky had yet to get off of him. Without taking his weight off of him, he adjusted himself so he was still sitting on Peter’s legs, except he was facing the other way.

Suddenly, Peter’s face went white. “Wait, Bucky please no.”

“Can I bake, Parker?” he asked, without looking at him.

Peter sighed, laying back down so he could save some of his energy. “No,” he answered plainly.

“That’s what I thought,” Bucky sighed.

Bucky didn’t make Peter wait any longer for his payback and all ten of his fingers began dusting across his socked soles. Peter was sent into immediate hysterics. He gave up trying to plead with him, but he couldn’t stop his body from rolling around the couch as continual giggles poured from his mouth. Every so often he would snort if Bucky got him with a particularly good method, or if he would stray upwards to his toes, but Bucky continued until Peter got all of the laughter out of him.

However, once the tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes, he let up. “Have you learned anything today?” he asked, getting up and sitting next to him. Peter stayed laying down, catching his breath. He noticed that someone must have lit the fire because he could hear something crackling.

“Not much,” he breathed out.

“I figured.” Bucky patted his knee. “But I’m always happy to teach you again.”

Peter jumped up from the couch, nearly taking his shin out on the coffee table, and Bucky laughed. “Not now, I’m not cruel.”

Peter raised his brows. “Okay, I’m not that cruel,” Bucky deadpanned. Peter glared at him, though he knew he didn’t really mean it.

He sat back down next to him. “You deserve payback for that.”

Bucky bumped his shoulder against him. “I don’t think so, I didn’t start it.”

A red light flashed through the living room. “I would beg to disagree.”

Peter and Bucky turned to see Steve on the ground. “Peter, care to join me?” Wanda asked, grinning.

Bucky attempted to run, but all it took was one flick from Wanda’s wrist and he was on the ground.

“Sam help!” Bucky yelled. Sam started running towards him, but abruptly came to a stop.

Wanda held an orb of dark red power in her hand, eyeing him carefully.

He held his hands up, walking backwards towards the kitchen. “No, thank you.” He grabbed a hold of a bowl. “Someone’s gotta keep stirring your soup.”

Wanda smiled, her nose scrunching up.

“Care to humble some super soldiers for the holidays?” Wanda asked. She twisted her magic and Steve burst into bright giggles.

Peter always knew it was best to keep the scarlet witch on his side. “Absolutely,” he agreed.

The tower was filled with laughter for quite some time, and lots of threats were said with no real violence behind them. When all was said and done, Peter was absolutely certain he was in for a very interesting winter break with his family.

Second author’s note: Hello my lovelies!! I know it’s been awhile since I uploaded on here, three years to be exact, but I had to come back for squealing Santa. Hopefully the fact that I’ve been working on my book has kept my fanfic skills in shape. While I can’t say I’m fully back to posting, I hope you enjoyed this, and I do have some other fics in the works. (Also if you read closely I put in an Easter egg for a future fic)

Taglist: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @teti-menchon0604 @tell-me-when-ur-ready

#quillsandtyposwrites #q&t marvel #marvel tickle fic #marvel tickle #marvel #lee!peter #Ler!bucky #ler!steve #Lee!wanda #ler!tony #marvel tickle fluff #bucky fluff #peter parker fluff #marvel tickle fanfiction #marvel tickle fanfics #tickle fanfic #ss2k24 #squealing santa 2k24

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silverbeamcreations · 7 hours ago

Text

When Duty Summons

A DP x DC fanfic by Silverbeam creations aka lunarmushroom on AO3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

AUTHOR NOTE:

I'm new to tumblr and new to fanfic writing styles, so comments, hearts, theories, ideas etc, are helpful in my motivation to write more, and I super appreciate it. Any tips for how tumblr works and any fandom and writing tips are welcome as well. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

‐----------------------

Part 4

"peek a booooo?" murmered Danny quietly as he popped his head through another wall. DAnnys fingers tapped along the wall as he gave the room a look around. empty rusted barrels lay along one wall amidst the dust, trash, and other refuse of the abandoned building. At the obvious lack of life signs danny continued grumbling. 15 minutes into chasing down the summoning spell, all signs had vanished. Once gone he had spent the next couple hours searching the estimated area he guessed was likely a good start and then had expaneded his earch.

score 3 crack heads, 1 elderly homeless man that must have been near deaths door as he seems to sense him even though invisible along with a half dozen rats and vermin and he had come up with squat. Hed taken a break to refocus his approach and refuel. While he made a quick pb and j...a quintiple layer monstrosity for max ghost energy, he couldn't shake the flash of ghost energy he felt before the signal had dissapeared. Such an intense rage, lined with pain and perhaps deep within it a coal of fear, sparking the flames of rage. It nagged at him picking at his core.

He reached over, rolling on his bed to fumble for his phone, sandwich half eaten as he opened a familiar group chat.

Dan da dan man: sooooo little fun fact for today. You know those summoning pings Ive been getting all week? Before they were like nudges but this morning seems like they managed to get the right combo buttons as it almost pulled me in, but I have that important english paper and aint nobody got time for that. So I just said like...No? and it kinda worked except .....

Sam a Lamb sauce: Danny. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?

Tuck Nugget: Do I need to make popcorn or prep the guns?

Sama a Lamb sauce: You don't have any guns after the last ditch and run Tucker.

Tuck Nugget: Hey baby no one can dis-ARM me of these sexies...

(Attached photo of a blurry bicep)

Dan da dan man: lol Nice one Tuck

Sam a Lamb sauce: Tucker I swear at the ancients if you start another pun war I will mail you some of my new snap dragon flowers to eat all your socks.

Tuck Nugget: Jokes on you, I gave up socks for scandalating ankles in crocs!

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Ignoring that...Danny please continue telling us what trouble you have gotten into now?

Da dan dan man: yeah that... well when I managed to slap the summons away it kinda latched onto another ghost instead?

Tuck nugget: Daaaaannnnnyyyyyy noooo....

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Can we just ignore it please?

Dan da dan man: Its just that, when I chased after it, there was this like cry? It keeps nagging at my core... It was full of intense anger but I think at the base it was covering fear and well...

Sam a lamb sauce: Your obsessions not gonna let that one go...alright what can we do to help?

Tuck Nugget: Once a hero always a hero.

Dan da dan man: well the thing is the signal disapeared and I searched like sooo many blocks full of buildings and while im gonna go back out and search more, I thought a little reearch of the area might speed things up.

Sama a lamb sauce: Deep dive into gotham cults and wacko groups. What fun.

Tuck Nugget: Im sure the Local night bats have quite the library of loony death summoning groups to purview...

Sam a Lamb Sauce: oh no you cannot go hacking the batman computer again. I do not want them on our radar.

Dan da dan man: But... they prbably have the most up to date info then what the general web would have. Im sure it will be fine,Tuckers got 1337 skillz.

Tuck nugger: (thumbs up <3 <3 <3 emoji)

Sam a Lamb Sauce: famous last words.

Dan da dan man: Im gonna head out again see if I can comb a few more blocks.

Tuck nugget: RIP your english grade

Sam a Lamb Sauce: Let's hope it's just his english this time.

#silverbeamcreations #fanfiction #dc x dp #dpxdc #a call to summons #fanfic #redhood #danny phantom #summons #drabble

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yazzwrites6962 · 1 day ago

Note

Please more niragi

Warmth ♡ Suguru Niragi

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! It is so unbelievably hard to find good photos of this man. I don't own any characters or images!

Genre: Smut

Summary: After surviving a brutal game, you and Niragi take shelter in an abandoned building on a cold night. Light banter and teasing leads to more intimate moments between you two.

Word Count: 2170

Warnings: OOC Niragi, language, mentions of death, sexual content, penetration, biting, name calling, masochism, degradation, fingering, praise, begging, and some hair pulling.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It wasn't meant to turn out this way. You and Niragi had barely made it out of the game alive. Now, instead of driving back to the Beach in victory, you were journeying through the empty city on foot because, of course the keys had been left on a dead player and were too risky to retrieve.

"Remind me again, why I let you talk me into switching to your group?" You grumbled, glancing at Niragi as you trekked through the dimly lit streets.

"Because you're hopeless without me." He shot back, smirking despite the exhaustion in his steps. You rolled your eyes, adjusting your grip on the backpack slung over your shoulder.

"Right, because you're the poster child for good decisions." You two had been walking for what felt like hours. The cold night air danced against your skin and your muscled ached from the demanding game earlier.

You weren't sure how much longer you could keep going. Niragi didn't seem too thrilled at the thought of continuing all the way back to the Beach either, although he would never admit it outright.

Eventually, you spotted an old, abandoned building up ahead. Unlike many other buildings, it seemed mostly intact. It looked like it must've been a shop or cafe, but now it was just another hollow shell in the Borderlands.

"Hey, that looks good enough." You say, motioning towards the building. "We can stop and rest there for tonight." You began making your way to your safe haven of the night without waiting for a response.

"Fine." Niragi sighed, catching up to you. For once, he didn't argue. He was definitely tired too. "Don't go falling asleep. There's not a chance I'm taking first watch."

Inside the building wasn't much different from the outside. It was dusty, cold, and lit only by the moonlight filtering through broken windows. Still, it was better than wandering aimlessly through the city at night. You found a pile of old blankets folded neatly on the counter. They were probably left by someone who had been camping there before.

"Toss me one." Niragi hollered to you, sitting against the wall with a grunt. Instead of gently handing it over, like a normal person, you balled up a blanket and threw it at his head.

"What the hell?!" He let out a muffled yell as the blanket hit him square in the face. He yanked it off, glaring at you with an irritated expression.

"Oops." You said, innocently, trying to hide the grin playing at your lips. "Sorry. My aim is shit when I'm feeling so tired." You picked up a blanket for yourself, wrapping it around your shoulders as you approached him.

"Your ass is lucky I'm too tired to get up and strangle you right now." He muttered, with no real threat in his voice. You sat down against the wall beside him. The air was freezing, and even with the added layer, you could feel the chill seeping in.

Glancing at Niragi, you notice him shivering slightly, despite his attempts to look unbothered. Without a word, you shuffled closer, throwing half your blanket over him.

"What are you doing?" He stiffened immediately, giving you a suspicious look.

"Relax. I'm not gonna bite. Not unless you want me to." You teased. "You just look like you're about to turn into an icicle or something." He stared at you incredulously.

"You... You're annoying. You know that?" He said, ultimately deciding not to push you away. His body relaxed as he shifted slightly closer to you. You raise an eyebrow, grinning at him. "Relax. I just don't feel like freezing tonight, okay?"

You hum in acknowledgement before a comfortable silence fills the air between you. The shared warmth made the cold of the night slightly more bearable. Every so often, you would catch Niragi glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" He asked suddenly, his voice quieter than usual. You turned your head to look at him, slightly surprised by the question.

"I dunno." You answer honestly. It's true, you aren't scared of him, despite everything. "I mean, I know you're just as bad as everyone says, but not to me. Do I personally got a reason to be afraid of you? Should I sleep with an eye open tonight?"

He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it with a thoughtful expression. You wonder what he was going to say before he stopped himself.

"You're really annoying." He muttered after a moment. You chuckle, leaning your head against the wall. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn you saw a soft smile on his lips.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say." You scoff. "We both know you'd be painfully bored without me." You scoot closer to him, your body searching for warmth.

"You keep acting like you know me so well." He murmured. "You're not scared of what I could do?" There's practically no space between you, and it's almost like he's whispering in your ear.

"I just don't think you'd do anything to hurt me." You reply, your eyes meeting his.

"So, you've either got crazy guts, or you're just unbelievably stupid." You could feel his warm breath hitting your face, and you couldn't help but crave more of his heat.

"Maybe both." You leaned closer, your heart racing as you felt the tip of his nose brush against yours. "I guess that makes us a pretty good match, huh?"

Wordlessly, his hand reached up, brushing against your cheek in a way that was surprisingly gentle for someone like him. You shivered at his touch.

You weren't quite sure who moved first, but before you could overthink it, you found yourselves closing the distance. Your lips met in a rough, but strangely tender kiss.

His hand shift to your scalp, pulling you deeper into the kiss as his tongue slips into your mouth. You can feel the warmth building in your chest as his other hands reaches for the hem of your shirt.

He bites down lightly on your lower lip, earning a yelp to escape from your throat. He chuckled, pulling back for a moment to look at your face. There is a flash of possessiveness in his eyes as he crawls on top of you, carefully laying you beneath him.

Fortunately, the blankets are large enough to still cover both of your bodies. Yet, it somehow didn't matter. You already felt warm enough with his right hand acting as a cushion between your head and the ground, and his left hand snaking up your shirt.

"Cozy?" He asked with a grin. You'd heard the rumors of how rough Niragi could be. However, it felt as though you were seeing a slightly different side of him. Beneath it all, he cared about you. He cared about your comfort and your warmth.

You nod, a similar smile on your face. Niragi lowered his face to yours, peppering kisses along your jawline before reaching your neck. He wanted to mark you. He wanted everyone on the Beach to see you covered in hickies and bruises belonging to him. So, he did exactly that.

He kissed and licked at your neck and collarbone. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging it slightly as if begging to feel more of his body.

"Are you really so cold, princess?" He teased as he pinched at one of your nipples. You let out a gasp, and he began to pull your shirt higher and higher until your chest was exposed to him.

In his left hand, ne began kneading at your breast while his mouth worked on the other. You felt your arousal growing, and you wrapped your legs around his hips. He growled, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

"Fuck..." He whispered, pulling his mouth off you. You shivered; your cold wet skin exposed to the chilly air. "You're intoxicating." He grumbled, reaching for the hem of your pants. You quickly assisted him in removing your clothes, your heart racing with anticipation.

Niragi shifted his weight to one side, lifting two fingers to your lips expectantly. You opened your mouth, allowing him to push his fingers against your tongue.

"Suck, like a good girl." He commanded; his voice low with desire. You did exactly as you were told, sucking and likcing his fingers until they were properly lubricated. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, lowering them to the wet warmth between your legs.

"Please..." You whimpered, the word slipping from your lips. He paused, shutting his eyes and biting his lip as if trying to control himself.

"Fuck. Do you even know how hard you've made me?" He groans, shoving his fingers inside you. You yelp as they immediately curl against your sweet spot. "All the fucking time, with all your teasing. Fuck. You make me want you so bad."

His fingers pump in and out of you, stretching you out as his lips reattach to yours. Your whimpers and moans are silenced in his mouth. You grow lightheaded, and you can tell Niragi's composure is slowly eroding away.

Your hands reach down to his belt and you unbuckle it, pulling it from his pants. His breath hitches and he pulls away from your passionate kiss. A string of saliva still connects the two of you.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He growls, his fingers still curling inside you. You bite your lip, suppressing your sounds of pleasure for a moment.

"Oh, I'll m-make sure you finish." You tease, stuttering your way through your words. He huffs, pulling his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty.

He works his way through his own clothing as you strip your remaining garments and toss them aside. In a matter of seconds, you are both completely bare and vulnerable in front of each other.

He grips at your thigh, leaving nail marks in it as he hoists your leg over his shoulder. He positions himself at your entrance, his cock already leaking precum.

With the quick motion of his hips, he begins pushing into you, making you feel fuller than ever before. He bottoms out, suppressing a moan behind his thinly shut lips.

"Please, Niragi." You whine, rolling your hips. He inhales sharply, squeezing his nails so roughly against your skin that you believe it may bleed. "...Move."

"Yeah?" He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours as he pulls back, then thrusts forward. You squeak with pleasure as he repeats the action. "You want me to move? Alright, slut. I'll give you exactly what you're asking for."

The way he pounds into you is animalistic. Possessive. It's impossible to contain the moans flowing from your lips as you take him. Your nails dig into his back, leaving scratch marks which will remain in his skin for several days.

"You squeeze around m-me so good. F-Fuck." His voice quakes in your ear. "Like y-you're sucking me in. Such a fucking whore. So desperate f-for my cock."

His sweat drips onto you, but you couldn't care less. Your mind is swirling from the pleasure, and you're locked in on the sounds of your wet skin slapping against his. The warmth and passion are overwhelming.

"Niragi!" You whimper, breathlessly. "P-Please- I'm so close!" You beg as he drops your leg off his shoulder, allowing him to press his chest against yours. You lock your legs around his hips, as if pleading for him to keep going.

"Shit." He gasps, wrapping his arms around you. "Me too, princess." His thrusts grow sloppy and his breaths shorter. "Beg for it, my good girl."

"P-Please!" You can feel the pressure building as you beg for your release. "Fuck- Please Niragi! Please let me cum- Please! I n-need to c-cum, please!"

"A-Ah-" His thrusts stutter as he twitches inside you. "Fuck- Cum for me, baby." He huffs before pressing his lips against yours.

He continues messily thrusting into you as you both ride out your highs, his seed spilling inside you. He moans in your mouth, pulling away from the kiss as he pulls out of you, combined liquids spilling out of your body.

His trembling body slumped beside you. Never before had you seen Niragi so drained of energy. Slowly, your heart calmed, and your breathing slowed back to normal.

You rested against his side, enveloped up in the warmth of shared blankets and lingering closeness. Niragi didn't have much to say, but he wrapped his arm firmly around you, holding you in an oddly comforting way.

"You're still annoying." He exhaled, but there was no malice in his tone. Only exhaustion and playful teasing. You chuckle, nestling closer to him.

"You're still pretending like you don't like me." You shoot back, but the comment falls on deaf ears. Niragi has already drifted into a rare, but peaceful sleep.

Maybe the Borderlands was cold and cruel, but at least you had found some warmth in each other.

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staryscorner · 2 days ago

Text

Monster

Paring: In-ho x reader

You and In-ho have had a steady relationship. You both met at a bar and since that day he has shown you almost every side there is to him. He trusts you with every little secret of his, even how he is the “Frontman” of some sort of game. Although you don't know what type of game it is you just thought it was nothing to worry about. He's your finance. So one day he said that he was going on a work trip which he would take every once in a while. You never went to any of them since you knew it was work, but for some reason you felt like you needed to go this time.

“Hey honey, would you mind if I tag along to your work trip?”

“Um well i'm not sure dear you might get bored and want to go home” He said chuckling nervously.

Now you definitely had to go! He never acted this weird about his work.

“Come on sweetheart it’s just a week right you always come back looking so happy I want to see what brings you so much joy.” you said pushing him to take

“And since it’s work I can be there to cheer you on if you ever feel down you know? So that’s why you should bring me” feeling like this would make him bring you.

He did hesitate for a bit but he said you could come

After packing and heading on a boat you were surprised that it was just you and him.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“There already at the destination so no need to worry” He said grinning at you

“But I do need to tell you something … Once we get on this island you might see me in a whole other way and I hope that you feel no different than you do now about me” In-ho said in a worried tone

You were confused but what could make you change the way you feel about him

After finally reaching the island he went to the back of the ship and took out an all black leather outfit and a black mask

“What's with the outfit?”

He didn't say a word, he just continued to put it all on and he handed you a similar mask and outfit.

“Just follow me and don't speak to anyone once we get off”

He was almost like another person this couldn't be your In-ho he was never this cold to you, but you didn't ask since your head was spinning with questions

You entered from a pit in the mountains and had to do a lot of climbing but once you saw made it to the top it was dark lit room which looked luxurious but one he walked you to the main room your heart sank… there were people put in track suits with panicked expressions

“In-ho WHAT IS GOING ON!” you yelled at him

“Calm down you haven't even seen what my job is”

He got up and told the guards dressed in pink to escort the players to the first game. You just keep on thinking is this what he meant when he said game

Once everyone was escorted to what seemed to be a dry land with a robot girl, that's when the true horrors began. You saw the robot turn around and say “green light” maybe this might be nothing to worry about, it's just a kids game. Maybe his job was to entertain people. Then the robot said red light and once she turned around the people who were moving were shot and blood flew everywhere.

Now this was something that you could not unsee. You looked up to now see the man you had trusted he was smiling he looked like he could laugh any second

“I'm leaving, I'm sorry but I can't be with you anymore after this. I know I said I wasn't going to see you differently but this was something I was expecting.

“NO WAIT YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME” He grabbed your arm aggressively and would let you go

“You know too much and I can't have you reporting this to the police just stay here and nothing will happen to you I swear”

You were trembling “Im sorry but I just can't I swear I wont tell the police but please just let me leave”

He let go of your arm and you just ran leaving the same way you entered Once you made it out you felt a sharp and hot feeling coming from your chest as you looked down you saw blood which made you fall you turned around and saw him the man you once loved the one you thought you knew everything about … your future husband

He had tears in his eyes he tried not to look pathetic but he really was he loved you with all his heart and he had to now kill you just for a selfish reason of him not getting found out and he knew that you wouldn't say anything but he still had to do it

“I will always love you” Those were your final words before you collapsed and had stopped breathing. He just came near you holding your cold body in his arms

Now he was truly a monster

A/n: OHH YEAAA ANOTHER ONE DONE ISTG LEE BYUNG HUN is just so FINEEEE LIKEEE!!!

I hope y'all enjoy this!!

#x reader #one shot #angst #fanfic #squid game #in ho #front man #inho x reader #no happy ending

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ceo-of-sloppy-women · 14 hours ago

Text

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

There’s a knock at the door while you’re making breakfast for yourself and Sevika (scrambled eggs and smoked sausage you had found in the icebox). Sevika yells that the doors open, and you pop out of the kitchen to see Vander step inside. Wiping your hands on your apron, you let the eggs cool on the stove, having finished cooking.

“Vander! What can we do for you? We might have some extra breakfast, if you want,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe.

“No thank you, Silco and I had a big breakfast already,” Vander chuckles, patting his stomach. “I only dropped by to give you two this and to assign you a job for the next three weeks.”

“Oh?” you tilt your head, taking the manila folder he holds out to you. Inside are two envelopes, one for each of you.

“It’s your first patrol pay and Sevika’s sick pay. Jinx told us what happened – that Sevika was injured saving a kid from the weather station –“ he turns his attention to Sevika – “Silco and I are giving you three weeks off. You will take them and you will rest.”

“Don’t worry, Vander, I’ll make sure she becomes well-acquainted with her own couch,” you giggle as Sevika merely glowers at him.

“Good,” Vander nods his head, turning back to you. “For now, I am assigning you to assist Singed. His lab is at the far end of town, just head down the stairs and into the old bunker to find him – I’ll show you, when you’re ready to head out. He runs the clinic when he has time and is working on a cure for shimmer. I’m not sure how much help he needs, but Silco thought it would be good for you to at least work with him a little in case you had questions about Sevika’s healing process.”

“Thank you, I’ve been meaning to meet him, actually. I’d like to swap notes with him on the infected in case I know anything that can help but forgot to write down. Plus, a little first aid never hurt,” you chirp, rocking a bit on your heels. Your fingers itch to hug him in thanks, but you barely know this man and have no idea what his personal boundaries are. Instead you ask: “Are you sure you don’t want any breakfast? We have yet to eat, and I can’t work on an empty stomach.”

“Okay, you’ve twisted my rubber arm – but just a small plate, please. I don’t want to take from your breakfast,” he concedes easily, taking a seat on the couch.

“Eh, I made enough leftovers in case Sevika got hungry. I was planning on coming to find you for a different job. But you beat me to it!” you explain, spinning around and heading back into the kitchen.

Vander attempts to start up small talk with Sevika, who’s barely awake, making you giggle to yourself as you plate the food. You have more than enough for the three of you, giving Vander a bit more than he asked for (if he didn’t finish it all, that is perfectly fine with you. You firmly believed in eating what you needed to feel full). Vander ends up eating his whole plate, just like Sevika (thankfully, you had been worried she was going to pick at it). Vander continues his attempt at small talk throughout breakfast, continuing while you’re grabbing your gear from your room. Sevika is barely having it, sleep weighing her mind down heavily as you check she’s got everything she needs for the day. She waves a hand loosely in your direction, grumbling something about getting some shut eye, and falling asleep mere moments later. You and Vander have a good chuckle before slipping out the door and into the street.

The walk is peaceful, with Vander catching you up about the lives of various people you pass on the street. You learn more about the architectural history of the houses you pass (apparently, Jinx has had more than a hand in blowing up a fair few of them that were too infected to renovate, while Ekko rebuilt them from the ground up from guidebooks and catalogues he had scavenged in the ruins of old cities). Vander also fills you in on local gossip, from the latest calf to be birthed to Grayson’s retirement from being the town sheriff last year, passing the title down to Caitlyn. Slowly, you get the sense that not much happens in Zaun, even amidst an apocalypse.

Eventually, you find yourself standing in front of an old bunker; its concrete walls are covered in vines and Jinx’s graffiti. The bunker itself is surrounded by a row of surprisingly well-manicured flowerbeds of various colours. Each flowerbed is filled with only the exact same flour, though there are some discrepancies in colour (such as a few pink flowers amongst white ones). You get the sense that Sevika’s bees may be meddling here. Vander informs you that they’re for Singed’s herbs and medicinal remedies, though you’re fairly certain at least six of the ones you can see are poisonous or cause intense hallucinations. Just who are you signing up to work for?

“Ah, Vander, what can I do for you this fine morning?” an unfamiliar voice asks, curling his tongue around the words. You turn to see a bald older man dressed in sickly green lab scrubs and a dried-blood-coloured apron with matching gloves that went past his elbows. He has large bags around his eyes and a sombre expression on his face reminiscent of someone attending a funeral.

“Singed, this is your new assistant – for a limited time. She will be under your employ for three weeks until Sevika is back on her feet,” Vander says confidently, patting your shoulder reassuringly.

“Ah, the one with the journals – yes, I remember you… well, I supposed an assistant couldn’t hurt. So long as you don’t sick the dog of Zaun on me, that is,” Singed hums, drumming the tips of his fingers together.

“The dog of… do you mean Sevika?”

“Oh, did I fail to mention that part? Singed and Sevika… don’t get along,” Vander admits, scratching the back of his neck.

“She remembers too much of who I once was,” Singed sighs. “A pity, really; it is quite fascinating that she managed to survive an infected bite.”

You shudder, every hair standing on edge. You’re almost certain he doesn’t mean Sevika’s recent bite, yet the tone in which he says it irks you. No wonder Sevika didn’t want to see this guy…

“Welp, I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure you’ll get along swimmingly. Any questions or concerns, come see me!” Vander promptly says, spinning around and speedwalking away. Clearly just as uncomfortable as you are. Great.

“Should we get to work?” Singed asks, picking up his basket full of herbs and flowers.

“Lead the way,” you reply, biting down your trepidation. The last thing you need is to get on his bad side on the first day.

Singed’s lab is filled full of a daunting amount of chemicals, explosives, poisons and mystery liquids. There’s an old doctor’s chair in the centre of the room, a cluttered desk off to the side, and a giant fish tank that has been drained and refitted as a mice enclosure. It’s stuffed full of tubes, bedding, and enrichment food bowls. It is the main source of entertainment for Singed’s cat, Maud, who sits on a nearby chair staring at it intently. Singed hands you some safety gear (a lab coat, gloves, goggles, the works), gestures to the infected corpse on the table, and the two of you get to work. He doesn’t seem to care that you have very little training in this subject, only that you are willing to learn. You spend entirely too much time fretting over what to do right that you continuously make mistakes due to your overthinking. Your first being mixing a potion too long because you didn’t trust your own counting speed, and having it blow up in your face. Luckily, you were unharmed, only soot-covered.

Singed seems far more knowledgeable than anyone you have met on the infected, having the stages of shimmer committed to memory. When you explain the newest one you found, he is momentarily phased before frantically writing it down in his notebook. Then, he proceeds to interrogate you for the rest of the hour for all the information you can recall. He seems especially interested in their increased health and the “mother’s” continued care, despite her corrupted form, for the young girl you found. You aren’t entirely sure that his curiosity is harmless, and make a mental note to warn Jinx away from Singed for the next little while. You make a secondary mental note to keep an eye on the little girl, to make sure Singed doesn’t catch her alone to pester her with questions.

Contradictory to your original assumptions, getting on Singed’s bad side is an incredibly hard task, because you spend the rest of the day making a complete fool of yourself. You mix things together that you shouldn’t, spill various bottles that definitely shouldn’t be spilt, and nearly kill Singed’s pet cat by starting an accidental fire on the chair she was sleeping on. All while Singed laughs and dismisses any mistake. He spends the majority of the day asking you questions about the infected, dissecting various parts brought to him, and making you fix your own mistakes. By lunch, you have learnt not only how to clean up your own messes, but how to avoid making them in the first place. He takes you out to the local sandwich shop in town to congratulate you. The two of you sit on a park bench in his flower garden to eat.

“You are doing better than my last assistant,” Singed comments through a mouthful.

“Oh, thank you. I was kinda worried you thought I was a complete fuck-up by this point,” you chuckle nervously, stuffing your face with another bite of sandwich.

“Do not get me wrong; you are quite spectacularly awful at this job. However, you improve with each mistake. In a way, you are learning science the way of the scientist – through trial and error. My last assistant was bit by an infected on his first day.”

“So, I’m just better than a guy who got himself killed?”

“Correct.”

“Okay… that makes me feel less comforted.”

“Do not beat yourself up – I said you were learning. That is the most important. Perhaps try trusting me next; my instructions will help you to ‘fuck-up’ less.” Singed makes air quotes around the swear, his half-eaten sandwich still in hand.

“I will endeavour to do so,” you say, wanting to sound smarter than you’ve shown yourself to be over the last few hours.

“Very good,” Singed nods, and the conversation falls silent once more.

The second half of the day is spent tending to various injuries, maladies and illnesses in the clinic. It seemed like practically everyone in town was accident-prone! Patient after patient came and went from the clinic, practically turning the door into a revolving door, as you become increasingly concerned that no one here had any sense of self-preservation. Several Fireflies came in with various broken bones – one with a nail through their hand – all wearing patched-together construction crew gear. Mel, a woman you had previously yet to meet, arrived in a frazzled state, dragging a stumbling Viktor behind her. Who apparently had only fallen asleep at his desk from exhaustion, but due to his chronic illness, Mel had feared he was dead. Singed merely sighed and set the pair home with strict orders for Viktor to rest. The most ironic case was Salo, who had a bad bought of food poisoning and arrived with Grayson’s help (she looked thoroughly unimpressed at the whole affair). After some interrogative bedside conversation while treating Salo, you made a mental note to avoid drinking the cider for a little while.

You learned more about treating the sick that afternoon than you had your whole life… or, at least, you learnt more about how Singed treats the sick.

At the end of the day, Singed clapped his hands together, sent the last patient home, and ushered you out with them (after returning your lab equipment). In the doorway, he thrust a wad of cash into your hands.

“Here is your pay for today. I expect you back tomorrow at seven o’clock sharp – not a moment later! Now, shoo!” Singed orders you, waving his hands to usher you out the door.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” you laugh, stepping into the sunlight and heading down the garden path. You get a few steps away, before turning around and calling out: “Thank you for teaching me today!”

Singed, who had been standing in the doorway, watching you leave, merely nods his head and says: “You were a very agreeable student.” Then, he turns around and walks back inside.

You head down the trail and toward the grocer, intent on picking up something to serve to Sevika. Knowing her, she probably hadn’t moved off the couch all day and was starving by now. Not exactly ideal for the healing process.

The grocery store has fresh hamburger patties and buns today, so you purchase four of each, feeling extra hungry. You grab a jar of pickles, a fresh tomato, some lettuce and horseradish sauce, content with following your stomach around the store. There are quite a few more people in here today, but thanks to your recent acquaintanceship with nearby half the town during clinic hours, you feel more comfortable being here. You are meant to be here.

You find Sevika exactly where you left her, yet find yourself stunned in the doorway. Having expected her to be napping, you are entirely caught off-guard to find her with a crochet hook and yarn in her hands! Immediately, your brain clicks as to where all of the crocheted blankets came from. You had never expected Sevika to be the source, given that she is missing one hand, and crocheting is traditionally a two-handed activity. Sitting next to her is a small contraption, doing the job of holding the yarn steady that her missing hand would have done. From the stack of granny squares on her lap, she has been at this for quite a while today.

You cough to catch her attention and she jumps, face flushed red as she scrambles to hide her hobby. She avoids your gaze, electing to stare at the floor instead. “You… hungry? I bought some burgers on the way home.”

“Shit, is it that late already –“ you nod – “Yeah, yeah, I could eat. Finished the scrambled eggs a while ago, actually. They were good.”

“Good to hear, you need to eat to heal,” you hum, picking up one of her granny squares and humming in approval. Purely for her benefit – you wanted to assure her that this wasn’t something you were about to judge her on. “These are impressively good, by the way.”

“Thanks,” she says awkwardly, ducking her head away from the praise.

“I like the colours,” you continue. The squares are made up of orange, yellow, brown and red yarn, which blend together in a flower-like design that resembles a cunt if you stare at it for too long. You stifle a snicker, not wanting to offend Sevika accidentally when you’re only laughing at the (possibly intentional) dirty design. “The autumn tones really complement each other. Reminds me of leaf piles just before winter, when they were crispest.”

“Thanks,” Sevika says again, more mumbling it into the granny square she’s working on than anything. Luckily for her, your stomach growls. She chuckles and pokes your gut: “You should get cookin’, before we die of starvation.”

“Alright, alright – I really do think they’re pretty,” you say one final time before disappearing into the kitchen.

Burgers are easy enough to make – Sevika has a small grill on the deck, which you utilize to cook them to perfection and toast the buns. Then you cut up the tomato, grab a few condiments from the ice box, and lay out everything outside. It’s far more difficult to disentangle Sevika from her yarn and get her outside. Eventually, the two of you manage it, and you get some fresh air into Sevika’s lungs.

In the middle of dinner, Sevika slides the envelope from Vander across to you. “Here, use this the next time you’re buying groceries.”

“Sevika, I can’t; this is –“

“My money to give away. You’re damn good at cooking, and I ain’t doing much of anything right now. At least let me help in the ways that I can, or I’m gonna go stir crazy sittin’ in this house for three weeks. Maybe buy me some yarn when you’re out, too.”

You chew your lip, debating if it is worth it to continue to fight her on this. With a heavy sigh, you relent, realizing that arguing will get you nowhere right now. “Okay, alright. But I’m only buying groceries and yarn. Everything else, I can use my own money for.”

“Deal,” Sevika grunts, stuffing another bite of her hamburger in her mouth and practically moaning. “So fucking worth it.”

~~~///~~~

Routine overtakes you before you even see it coming; it takes three weeks for Sevika’s leg to heal, during which you find yourself growing closer with Zaun’s community. In the mornings, you get up, make breakfast for you and Sevika (usually yogurt, eggs and toast), fluff her pillows on the couch, and tell her not to die while you’re gone. Then, you head over to Singed’s on the edge of town, descending into the basement as you button up your lab coat. He’s always happy to see you – in that unhinged, manic sort of way that leads you into a day’s work of experiments, questions and procedures. He has you do the medical checks for the clinic, assisting when needed but trusting you won’t kill anyone. After the day’s over, he pays you – a nice change from having to wait two weeks to a month back in the old world. Having your pay early was a welcome change, as after work you’d run errands – mostly groceries as Sevika didn’t have a working fridge to keep meat inside of. You became great friends with Salo, as he was usually at the grocery store inspecting the aisles at the same time you were shopping. He gave you the downlow on all the meats – which came in today, which had been frozen, and which would pair best with what alcohol. He was very rarely wrong.

For the first week, you squirrelled your pay away until you could afford a dining table from Grayson. She tried to give you a discount for all your hard work, but you had been so triumphant from finally earning enough for a table that you’d outright refused her. She threw in four chairs, free of charge, and argued you down to inviting her over for dinner one night. You decided that was acceptable (and you’re glad you did, as Jinx and Isha – the young girl you saved – started coming over for dinner practically every night thereafter).

Once you run all your errands, you head home to cook dinner. Sevika was always on the couch, snoring away with her hand folded over her stomach. You would sneak past her – some days she woke up and some days she kept snoring – into the kitchen to cook dinner. By the time it was almost done, Sevika would be up, leaning against the doorframe or sitting on the counter, stomach growling as she watched you work. You would give her any scraps that couldn’t fit in the pan to tide her over. Usually, half a carrot or a few pieces of spinach. By this time, Jinx and Isha would barge into the house, bringing honey from Sevika’s bees, as they had been looking after them for her. Sevika pretended to be annoyed, but you caught her smiling every time Isha gave her a new drawing or Jinx said that Isha picked the flavour of honey for today. Honey was typically saved for after-dinner tea, paired with whatever baked goods you had tried to make that weekend, as you had all your weekends off. Each night, the three of them claimed you outdid yourself with dinner – you weren’t so sure, but you enjoyed the praise nonetheless. You made everything from ribs to chicken to soup, and some days, you were super lazy and just made breakfast or beans, rice and leftovers.

Once dinner was finished, Isha and Sevika would retire to the living room to “play” (Isha usually drew on the floor while Sevika tried to guess what she was drawing), while you and Jinx did the dishes. You had tried to insist that Jinx didn’t have to as she was a guest, but she had argued that since she was eating your food every night, this was the least she could do in return.

Weekends were spent relaxing, with Sevika trying your baked goods and the two of you lounging high and happy on her couches. However, the best part of Sevika’s three-week-long sabbatical is that she has all but insisted you come to bed with her every night. Your bed sits untouched in your room as you curl up at Sevika’s side once the moon looms over your head. The loft is far warmer than the rest of the house, though that could just be Sevika’s body heat leeching into your bones. Your heart hammers each time you lay down with her, curled up protectively in her arms. She is usually awake before you each morning, playing with your hair until you rouse with her.

Until one morning, you’re changing Sevika’s bandages and find only small, white scars.

#fanfic: no grave...#sevika x reader #sevika x oc #sevika x you #sevika #arcane fanfic

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