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simpjaes · 7 months ago

Text

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― DUB CON. use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish, reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something.

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants.

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness.

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently.

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too.

Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week.

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs.

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce.

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?”

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone.

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more.

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off.

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you?

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?”

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum.

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end.

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty.

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut.

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.”

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father.

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches.

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

You really seem to be enjoying this.

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are.

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you.

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat.

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to.

No one would even know.

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs.

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect.

“I knew it.” You giggle, bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself.

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.”

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now. At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down.

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy.

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes.

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?”

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards.

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not.

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you.

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now.

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now.

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth.

Oh. Oh.

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of.

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying.

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.”

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it.

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now.

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him.

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor.

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh.

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes.

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration.

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it.

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.”

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it.

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat.

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well.

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged.

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath.

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties.

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly.

You’ve gotten wetter.

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.”

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous.

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better.

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman.

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it.

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything?

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat?

No.

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it.

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand.

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.”

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press.

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you.

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk.

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily.

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before.

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly.

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't.

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you.

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk.

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head.

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.”

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.”

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it.

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty.

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.”

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.”

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit.

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now.

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself.

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?”

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you.

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more.

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him.

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts.

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good.

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him.

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe.

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence.

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it.

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it.

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor.

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father.

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before.

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into.

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand.

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?”

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness.

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed.

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut

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areyouwell · 3 months ago

Text

Sciophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of shadows. An adult or child with Sciophobia may experience extreme stress and anxiety in everyday life due to the nature of light and shadow.

Ch.2

Ch.1 <---

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: the most DISGUSTING, tooth-achingly sweet fluff, like candyfloss-style shit. i vomited twice writing it and once again proofreading it. they make pasta together for TWO THOUSAND WORDS so if that ain't yer thing im sorry the good stuff will start soon. and by that i mean body horror. i threw up writing that for a completely different reason...

Word count: 11k (strap in and strap on folks)

A/N: as mentioned in the warnings, this is almost pure fluff. sure there's MC rage so strong my timbers were shivered but other than that it's mostly fluff. i want you guys to know, i am setting us all up for failure, because this WILL get sad. but it'll get hot first, then downright filthy, the a little disgusting before it gets sad, we got a while to go so booties ch.2 LFG

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit

“Maybe just try… concentrating harder?”

It took all of your willpower not to cross the few steps it would take to punch Scott’s lights out. Why the Professor assigned him to help with your training, you’d never know. Sure, it wasn’t like you were constantly at each other’s throats like he and Logan seemed to be, but you never exactly saw eye to eye either. Scott was too… neat, for you. He liked rules too much, always following what his head told him he should do, rather than following his heart or gut. It was infuriating on missions, and you’d had plenty of arguments about the correct course of action before he became the de facto leader whether you liked it or not.

That was shortly before you went away, so you didn’t really have much time to experience the dictatorship of Scott Summers, and now you were back, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to.

“Ya know what Scott? I’d never thought of doing that, thanks!” you bit sarcastically, sweat beading along your brow. You’d been at this for well over an hour now, hour two fast approaching with no progress. You’d successfully shadow-walked, though Cyclops noted your hesitation to do so. But could he blame you? The idea of shadow-walking and then suddenly not having the strength to pull yourself back together, or whatever it was you did, was quite frankly, terrifying.

Scott sighed, placing a hand on his hip and running the other through his hair. “Alright, take ten, I’ll talk to the Professor.” He said, already making his way towards the iron doors. You let loose a frustrated breath, bracing your hands across the back of your neck. This was hopeless. Utterly hopeless. What’s worse, is that there was no proof you could actually do those things. No proof that was the Professor was saying was fucking true.

You were glad the back wall was cast in shadow as you stormed across the floor, sending your fist careening into the metalwork, instantly regretting your outburst when the crack of your split knuckles rang out louder than the punch itself. Clamping your lips between your teeth to stop yourself from crying out, you let yourself breathe through the pain, savouring it just slightly. It was good. Pain was good. It reminded you how you weren’t just a pile of shadows wandering aimlessly through the air yet. You doubted you could feel a broken hand if you didn’t have a hand to feel with.

Turning your back to the wall, you slid down to the floor, head buried between your knees with your arms casing you in, throbbing hand gripping your opposite shoulder tightly. You wouldn’t cry. You would. Not. Cry. That wasn’t you. You don’t cry. Since when did you cry?

This was how Logan found you. He’d been stuck in a meeting with Xavier and Storm all morning, going over the blueprints of the latest rescue mission the team would embark on. Though in all honesty, he was barely listening, his thoughts disobediently drifting back to you. The memory of your smile, the teasing lilt in your voice, the way your arms felt wrapped around his neck, the scent of your hair invading his heightened nose. He wondered how you were getting on with Scott, and he pitied the fact you were having to do this with Scott. That was until the man of the hour walked through the doors, disrupting the meeting and finally releasing him back into the world.

It’s no wonder his feet led him straight to you, you’d been on his mind that much. So to see you like this, curled up against the opposite wall, your hand an angry red, it tugged at his heart.

You didn’t seem to notice him as he crossed the room, only looking up when he kicked the gym mat with his foot. There was that smile again. The one that didn’t reach your eyes and only serve to fool people who were fucking idiots into thinking you were okay.

The last person you expected to see walk through those doors was Logan. Last you’d heard, he was stuck in a meeting with Charles and Ororo. Scott was initially furious he’d been asked to help develop your mutation instead of intent ‘crucial strategy meetings’ so he called them, but he soon lightened up when you not-so-subtly reminded him it’s because Charles thought he was the best option to help you.

You sighed heavily, bracing your good hand on your knee as you rose to your feet. For Logan to see you in such a sorry state wasn’t high on your list of priorities. You were pretty sure it wasn’t on that list at all.

“Not goin’ well?” he asked softly, and you had to grit your teeth to stop yourself from tearing up. You watched his eyes flicker from your face to your hand, thick brows pinching in concern. You followed his line of sight, not that you needed to, you could fucking feel your knuckles pulsing fire up your arm.

“Uh, no, not really. I’d love to say I did this punching Scott, but he left before I could, so I took it out on the wall instead.” You half smiled, and Logan found himself blowing out a huff of laughter. Even in this state, in this mindset, you could still find humour.

Sinking your hand into the shadows across the wall behind you, you felt the familiar tingle of, what you now know was your body breaking apart, before the slight itch of pulling it back together as you dragged it back out, good as new.

Logan thought for a moment, hazel eyes flicking from you to the shadows behind you. “Have you tried–”

“If you’re about to say ‘concentrating harder’ I might have to hurt you.” You interrupted, much to his amusement.

“I’m assumin’ that’s what Scott said?”

“Word for fucking word,” you said with a slight lopsided smile. Now that one reached your eyes.

Logan took a few steps forward, now borderline pinning you against the wall. If it wasn’t for his hearing, he would have missed the way your breath hitched slightly, the slight shudder in your exhale. He chalked it down to your apprehension toward your situation. He had to. Giving himself hope like that just led to a shit load of hurt.

“What I was goin’ to say, was have ya tried from in there?” he raised a brow, his eyes looking past you and at the wall behind, and you had to take a minute to remember what you were talking about, his proximity all but throwing all and any thought out the window. It was achingly familiar to yesterday in the kitchen.

“You might be onto something…” you breathed when you remembered how to form words. Now you were thinking about it, he could be right. Why on earth were you trying to call the shadows to you, when you could drag them out with you? However, the idea of once again disappearing into shadow didn’t fill you with the same sense of freedom it once did.

And Logan could see it. The hesitation, apprehension. You’d told him you were scared last night, but this was the first time he’d seen it. “I’ll be right here, yeah?” Fuck the way you looked at him shattered his heart. You wanted to be brave, you wanted to have the same sense of wonder you always did when it came to your mutation. He looked at the clench of your jaw, the flare of your nostrils as you nodded.

“Alright… don’t go anywhere.” you half-joked, sliding your hands down the cool wall behind you, feeling your skin tingle at the mere idea of disappearing into the darkness.

“Where would I go? You’re right here.” Logan responded, placing his index finger on the centre of your forehead and pushing ever so slightly. It gave you enough courage to fall back into the darkness, feeling the release of those threads holding your corporeal body together.

Logan wasn’t really sure why he said that and he hoped to fuck you were too nervous about this whole thing to actually register what he’d said. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he watched you fold into the shadow, taking a few steps back and looking at his watch. Any longer than three minutes and he’ll start to think this was a really bad idea. Though, he probably should have told you that before you disappeared.

Fuck.

It was always a strange sensation. Your consciousness was still intact, but the rest of your body had disappeared, scattered into a million different pieces. Probably billions. You couldn’t see, but you didn’t need to. You could sense. Sense the layout of the room. Sense where the shadows begin and where they end. Everything became nothing, and it was freedom. Quieting your thoughts, you concentrated. Concentrated on pulling. It was the same itching sensation you felt when leaving the shadows, except you tried to ground yourself.

Ground yourself in a place that had literally no ground.

This was fucking impossible.

You felt yourself slipping, the shadows around you not knowing what it was you were asking. Did the shadows have consciousness too? You didn’t know. Who fucking knew? And you didn’t fucking care. You tried to concentrate again, pulling against those threads you used to bring yourself from one place to the other toward you.

And only succeeding in moving again. Walking. This was no fucking different to what you’ve always done. Just moving from one point to the next. You’d already fucking mastered that.

But at least one good thing had come from this. You weren’t afraid anymore.

You were fucking angry.

Your consciousness writhed like a ball of angry vipers, pulling at all and any threads you could sense around you, flicking from one place to another with no rhyme or reason, no direction.

If you could scream, you would have done. If you could lash out, you would have done. Rage rippled through your senses, those threads around you thrashing and flailing. Useless. Fucking useless. Maybe this was the fate you deserved. Disappearing into nothing, being nothing. Maybe you did deserve it.

But you wouldn’t fucking accept it. Not yet.

This is “–fucking POINTLESS!” you roared, stepping from the shadow, your body itching all over, buzzing with adrenaline, your back almost burning. Your eyes took time to adjust to the light again, but you were too furious to register anything. “What’s the fucking point? Nothing works! I can’t pull them toward me, I can’t pull them with me, this is fucking stupid!” you continued your tirade, almost feeling the physical weight of your failure heavy upon your shoulders. “I can’t fucking do it, so why bother trying? It’s been a day and I’m already sick of this shit!” you heaved, breath searing your newly formed lungs, sending shockwaves of fire through your shoulder blades. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been this angry. “If this stupid fucking mutation doesn’t kill me I’ll do it myself I swear to fucking god and what the FUCK are you smiling at Logan?!” You bellowed, your eyes finally registering what they were seeing.

Logan had probably the world’s most gorgeous smile, and you wished you weren’t too pissed off to appreciate it. But before he had time to answer, Scott and Charles entered the room, Scott dropped a mug of what looked like freshly brewed coffee straight onto the floor, the shattering of the ceramic lingering in the air as the room fell deadly silent.

“What?” you asked, now slightly fearful as the three men peered at you, each with a different expression. Scott seemed utterly horrified, his jaw slack and agape. Charles looked almost smug, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. And Logan?

Logan just grinned at you, arms folded across his chest. “You did it,” he whispered, nodding to what you thought was the wall behind you. Your eyes lingered on his as you turned your head, finally looking at what everyone else in the room seemed to be seeing.

Honestly, you were fucking shocked you didn’t notice. At least now the burning in your shoulder blades had an explanation.

Two broad, rippling wings of pure shadow spread wide from your back, the darkness almost pulsing along with your rapid heartbeat. It felt good, and you noted the lack of pressure about your body. Those threads that seemed constantly under strain had loosened, seemingly constantly fed by the shadows at your back.

You slowly pulled at the strings, watching the wings move and shift with your intentions. Your fury dissolved as you watched in complete awe, along with the three others in the room. They folded close to your back and you felt the buzzing of energy against your leg, before you extended them again to their full size, tips grazing either side of the room.

“Wh… H-how?” Scott managed to stutter, taking a cautious step forward. You looked from your shadows to Cyclops.

“It, uh, it was Logan’s idea. Pull them out with me rather than trying to pull them towards me…” you were still reeling, slowly extending your fingers before trying to move the rest of your body. You didn’t know how much concentration it was taking to keep them intact, and you were a little afraid of letting them slip. Your breath came heavy as if you’d run around the estate at least four times.

Logan looked back at Scott, unable to help his ‘fuck you’ brow raise. And to his satisfaction, Scott clicked his tongue in irritation. He turned back to you when he heard your slight laugh, clearly having noticed the silent exchange between them.

“How did you even know about this?” Scott asked accusingly.

“She told me.” Logan retorted as if it was the most obvious response on the planet. Scott just stood there in shock.

“She… she told you? She told you. As in, the one over there?” Cyclops pointed at you and you flipped him off in return.

“Yeah? Who else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?”

“It’s just, she doesn’t tend to… do that,”

“She is right fucking here!” you held your arms up, gesturing to yourself in a way that thankfully returned the boys’ attention back to the situation at hand.

“Yeah well, this is all well and good,” Scott continued, crouching now to pick up the larger pieces of the shattered mug, “but how do you release them?” he finished.

He had a point. You couldn’t wander around the school with two giant wings stuck to your back, as much as you wanted to. How would you get through the doorways? Xavier wheeled forward until he was next to Logan, his face now much more serious.

“Carefully. Release it too quickly and the threads could go with them,”

“Wouldn’t that just mean she would be back in the shadow?” Logan asked, slight concern lacing his baritone voice. There was a catch here, and every single one of you knew it.

“Ordinarily yes, however, she cannot disappear into her own shadow. If she releases those threads anywhere other than back to its original form, there’s a risk of her disappearing with it and getting stuck,” He explained, to nobody’s understanding. You knew you couldn’t disappear into your own shadow, you’d tried before and your body simply wouldn’t let you.

“So wait… I can pull the shadow with me but have to return it to where it was, essentially?” you asked, slowly so that your question could be understood, even by yourself. Charles nodded, and you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Logan couldn’t help but feel partly to blame for this. He’d encouraged you to take this step, to try alternate methods of developing your mutation, and now he had, you were stuck like this until you felt sure you could release it carefully. Shit.

‘She made it this far because of you. We have a chance at changing her fate because of you, Logan. You cannot regret that.’ It was always jarring when the Professor found his way into his head, and it wasn’t the least bit soothing. What did ease him a little, however, was your slight reassuring smile, renewed with confidence.

You could see he was battling with guilt, terrified that he may have endangered you. But you could do this. You’d already managed to achieve something you never thought you could today, what’s one more miracle?

“Hooookay, let’s try this… carefully, right?” it was a rhetorical question because honestly? You were a little scared, and stalling seemed to give you time to collect your thoughts and calm your slightly stuttering heart.

“Carefully,” Charles instructed, and you nodded once before taking another deep breath. Holding it for a few moments, you tightened the threads you hoped to fuck were holding you together, keeping them in place before blowing out the breath, releasing your connection to the wings behind your back. You felt them bleed down your shoulders, shivering slightly as the shadows snaked down your legs and back against the wall behind you, returning to their original state.

You’d closed your eyes at some point, honestly, you couldn’t remember when. You were scared to open them, scared to see if you’d fucked anything up, if parts of your body were just completely shadow, or whether you had accidentally grown multiple limbs or something. You knew your mind was running away from you, but you couldn’t help it, as ridiculous as it felt.

Logan smiled slightly to himself as he watched the shadows wash away and return to the wall, and that inward smile broadened when he noticed you weren’t moving, eyes clenched shut, your hands balled into fists, your shoulders tensed and hunched. He stepped forward and up to you, gently bracing his hands on either side of your neck, thumbs angling your jaw up a little. Your soft gasp didn’t escape his ears.

“Y’alright?” He asked, eyes searching your face before finding your own gaze, your lids having fluttered open. You visibly relaxed, one hand that was previously balled into a tight fist now gently sliding up his wrist, resting atop his forearm. Your touch was electric, fingertips sending shivers down his spine.

“Fine, I think,” you responded, gliding your nails through the hair on his arm. It was an absent response to his touch. You wanted to be closer to him, to bury your head in the crook of his neck and breathe in his pinewood scent. His breath was a mix of mint and tobacco, and you wondered if his lips had a permanent hint of whiskey if you were to taste them, having been told by a grumbling Jean that was who the hidden, half-empty bottle in the cupboard belonged to.

You instantly mourned the loss of his touch when he stepped back, though you were grateful he did. You’d been dangerously close to kissing him, and whilst you still wanted to, perhaps not without an audience of Charles and Scott.

“How are you feeling?” You blinked when the Professor addressed you directly, having forgotten what living in reality was like for a few moments. Nodding along with an answer you hadn’t voiced yet, you grinned along with a deep, contorting rumble of your stomach.

“Apparently, starving.” A chuckle escaped your lips and you braced a hand against your stomach in an attempt to soothe away the uncomfortable feeling of hunger.

“I think that’s enough for today. Logan, could you take this one to the kitchen? Make sure she’s fed.” There was a knowing look in Professor Xavier’s eye that Logan wasn’t sure he liked. Sure, he may have just lovingly held your face whilst bringing you back from the brink of terror, but that didn’t mean there was anything going on between the two of you. You met yesterday!

“Sure.” he shrugged, trying his damnest to sound nonchalant about it. You stretched your arms up above your head, popping your elbows slightly as you followed Logan from the room, feeling a thousand times lighter than you did when you entered two hours ago. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you’d succeeded.

The doors closed behind you with a soft swish, and you paused to appreciate the man walking ahead of you. You’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and yet you’d tear the fabric of the universe apart to ensure his safety. You knew almost nothing about him, and yet you felt the strangest pull towards him, a yearning to be around him, to be near him. It was infuriating, but so fucking exciting at the same time. Could this maybe be something? Did he feel this weird connection too? Or was it just your delusions working overtime? Honestly, hard to say.

“Take a picture, it’d last longer.”

You snapped from your daze to notice he’d turned back to you, realising you weren’t following him. Flashing him a broad smile, refusing to feel any kind of embarrassment that he’d caught you practically staring at him, you jogged a little to catch up, effortlessly falling into step beside him.

“Wanted to thank you,” you looked up at him through the corner of your eye, catching his own gaze.

“What for?”

“Everything. Logan, I’ve known you for less than a full day and you’ve already helped me more than people I’ve known practically my whole life. The Professor excluded. So yeah, thanks.” You shrugged, hitting the button on the lift to take you both back up to the ground floor. The doors closed and you leaned against the back wall, crossing one ankle over the other.

“You need better friends if you’re thankin’ me for anythin’. Wouldn’t anyone else do the same?” he asked, mirroring your stance against the adjacent wall, folding his arms across his chest. You snorted a laugh, and he found himself smiling at you.

“Yeah, friends would, but like I said, we haven’t even known each other a full twenty-four hours yet.”

Logan cocked a brow, his smile morphing back to a small smirk. “Well pardon me, princess, I thought we were friends.”

You rolled your eyes, and Logan had a horrendous feeling he’d misread the entire situation between you. “I mean like, lifelong friends, asshole. People I’ve known ever since I can remember. Not people I met yesterday,” you finished, gently kicking his foot with your own. Logan straightened up as the lift slowed to reach the ground floor, softly flicking your forehead in response to your kick, causing you to bat his hand away.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? You made an impact,” he shrugged, and you grinned.

“Oh yeah?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, bub. I’m just sayin’ you show up after not existin’ and immediately cause trouble.” he watched your expression shift from mischievous to a sheepish pout, unable to beat the trouble-maker allegations. He sighed slightly. “But hey, maybe I like trouble.” The doors opened for the both of you to leave, Logan being the first to make his exit. Though, you stayed behind for a beat.

“Or maybe trouble just likes you,” you retorted with that same lopsided smile he’d come to admire so much, before pushing back against the wall to join him.

“Yeah well, ‘m’not mad about it either way,” he mumbled, and you thought better about teasing him for it. You imagined this was about as close as he was gonna get to voicing genuine care for you, so you let it drop, simply humming a thoughtful smile in response.

You don’t know why you were expecting the kitchen to have a few people in it, since classes were currently going on. Maybe it was due to the fact you hadn’t exactly settled back into the life of a teacher yet. Not that you were a teacher anymore, the man currently rifling through the snacks cupboard had seen to that. You found, with no small degree of surprise, that you missed it. You missed teaching combat and strategy, you missed taking the kids through training drills and exercise routines. You missed helping them hone their mutations, with Jean’s help, or Ororo’s help. Sure, the worry of them getting hurt always used to play on your mind, but now you were back, you realised that the worry was worth the fulfilment.

Taking a seat at the table, you propped your chin up on the heel of your palm, watching as Logan crouched to one of the cupboards below the counter. You didn’t pretend like you weren’t enjoying the view. He really did look fantastic for one hundred and thirty. In peak physical condition.

“I’d say take a picture again but I’d really rather you didn’t,” you were too focused shamelessly staring at his ass you hadn’t noticed he was peering at you over his shoulder with a not-so-subtle smirk. You flashed one right back.

You were coming to like that phrase. “I wouldn’t be opposed,” you retorted, wiggling your brows up and down. Logan snorted a laugh.

“You flirt with everyone like this?”

You shook your head, moving to rest your chin on top of your now interlaced fingers. “Nah, only with the ones over ninety. I have a thing for older men,” you winked and he rolled his eyes.

“Stop,” but judging from his expression, Logan was finding this just as amusing as you were. But as much as you wanted to continue, your curiosity got the better of you.

“What’re you looking for?” you asked, standing from your seat at the table and skirting around the wood to sit on the edge closer to him, peering down over his shoulder.

“There used to be a packet of insta-noodles in here somewhere but I think one of the kids got to it first,” he explained, and you gasped dramatically, to the point where he actually looked a little concerned over his shoulder. “What?”

“Insta-noodles? My brother in Christ, please tell me you were not about to give me instant fucking noodles?” you felt something in you die at the thought, and something else died at his affirming nod.

“Yeah, what's wrong with that?” he asked, genuinely perplexed by your reaction. It was just noodles for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t like he’d just offered to kick a baby. He blinked at your barked laugh of disbelief, watching as you hopped off the table and shooed him aside.

“Step back fossil–”

“Hey!”

“and let me do this. We’re going to actually have food. Like, real food. Take a seat or watch and learn.” You shot him a look over your shoulder, before gathering whatever ingredients you needed. Logan dragged one of the chairs back from the table, taking a seat to watch whatever it was you were about to make.

You started by dicing an onion, a pan with oil already heating up on the gas stove, and it took all of three minutes for Logan to be impressed by your knife skills. You almost wielded the thing like a dagger, flipping it this way and that, before scooping half the pile of onion and dropping it into a plastic bowl. The other half you scraped into the pan, and Logan couldn’t help but savour the sound of the sizzle and the smell of food. Suddenly, he too was starving.

You crossed to the fridge, rummaging around the bottom shelf before pulling out a tub of minced beef, and a packet of mushrooms. Closing the door with your hip, you lay the ingredients out on the counter, pulling open the cupboard above your head to retrieve a box of breadcrumbs and a carton of eggs. Though he saw you pause briefly, turning your head back to him.

“You’re not vegetarian or vegan, right? Probably should have asked yesterday,” your question made him laugh, and you tilted your head to the side. “What?”

“Do I look vegan to you?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. No, no he didn’t. But at the same time, you’d made a similar mistake in the past. And it still haunts you to this day.

“Just answer the question, Lo’” you grit, placing a hand on your hip. Logan blinked, trying his best to get past the nickname you’d just given him. Usually, nicknames were his thing, having about a million different ones for a million different circumstances. He barely managed to shake his head, earning himself a smile of gratitude from you, before you turned back to your task at hand and he could settle himself with his brow pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

You crouched again, rifling through the cupboard with cans. Pushing a stack of soup to the side, you froze solid, your eyes blowing wide as your hand shook at what you saw. Another mug, though someone had gone to great lengths to hide this one. Your fingertips grazed the faded image, a photograph of a younger-looking you and a girl with fair features, her braids tied back at the top of her head. Her smile was brilliant. Dazzling. It took you a moment to will your blurring vision away, before inhaling deeply and bringing out the chopped tomatoes you’d been looking for, setting it to the side. Taking a moment to push her from your mind whilst stirring the slowly browning onions, you then cross to fill the kettle, flicking the switch to start boiling. Logan blew out a breath, having recovered from his heart stuttering and finally went back to watching you cook.

It was calming, almost hypnotic, the way you moved about the kitchen. Folding the onions in with the beef mince, breadcrumbs and two eggs. Only, it just occurred to him he had no fucking clue what you were making. Standing from his seat, he moved over to lean his shoulder against the fridge door, now having a clear line of sight to watch what you were doing.

“What’re you making?” he asked, smiling slightly as you startled. He didn’t mean to scare you, he just honestly didn’t realise how deep into the process you were.

“Meatball Marinara,” you answered, your fingers incorporating the ingredients in the bowl until you were left with a sticky, meaty lump you could form balls out of.

“From scratch?” he asked, eyes slightly wide. You’d spoken at length about your cooking last night, and how you’d learned, and it wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he didn’t quite realise how impressive it was until he was here, watching you.

He swore, your smile could start and end wars.

“It’s pretty quick and easy, to be honest,” you explained, eyes never leaving your task despite feeling his own trained on you. You grabbed the salt from the spice rack, twisting the grinder a few times until you felt it was right. That was what a lot of cooking was for you. Just feeling. When you felt something was done, you’d take it from the oven. When you felt something needed a little more seasoning, you’d sprinkle some paprika in for an extra kick. Nothing was ever done by the book.

It’s mainly why you didn’t exactly get on with Scott.

“Huh…” Logan responded, watching how you’d started to take small portions of the beef and roll it into little balls, placing them onto a separate plate.

“Could you give the onions a quick stir? ‘ve got meat hands,” you wiggled your slightly shining fingers in his face, and he jerked back, much to your amusement. Logan fought the urge to flick your forehead again, settling on ignoring your evil little laugh and instead focussing on his critical mission of stirring onions.

“D’ya cook like this when you were away?” he asked, finding an insane amount of domestic comfort in cooking with you. He saw you shake your head out of his peripheral vision.

“Nah, didn’t have time, plus I was moving around a lot. Usually, it was quicker and easier things than this,”

“Like insta-noodles?”

You could fucking hear his smirk, and you managed to stop yourself from cracking an egg over his head. “No. Never insta-noodles. Ever.”

You’d finished making little meatballs and had started splitting apart a bulb of garlic, crushing the cloves beneath your knife before peeling off the skin and dicing them before dropping them into the pan he was still stirring. His eyes closed involuntarily as you leaned across him, once again your scent hitting him like a freight train, only this time your shampoo had blended with the sweet, slightly musky smell of your sweat. It was enough to drive him fucking feral.

“Keep stirring that, or it’ll stick to the bottom and burn,” you instructed absently, halfway through chopping up a few mushrooms before leaning across him again to drop them into the pan as well. Logan held the spoon like it was his lifeline, knuckles draining white as you moved around him to retrieve another pan.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded, and you snorted another laugh. He really had to pull himself together.

You poured the boiled water from the kettle into the new pan, lighting the burner and setting it on a high heat, bringing the water roiling before grinding salt for what Logan felt was far too long. He wondered vaguely if you had high sodium levels, or how your blood pressure was. You waited again for the water to come back to a boil, before placing a sizeable amount of spaghetti into the pan, putting slight pressure on the tips so the ends would soften and bend faster in the water.

Placing the lid over the pan, you went to check your watch. Your watch that you weren’t wearing. Fucking goddamnit. You looked around for a clock, before noticing Logan’s wrist.

Logan’s soul nearly left his body at the way you grabbed his hand, twisting his wrist to make a note of the time. You weren’t exactly rough, but it was assertive enough for him to think twice about the kinds of things he was into…

Wait, what the fuck was he talking about?

“You could’ve just asked the time,” he muttered, tugging his wrist back almost possesively.

“Hm?” you blinked. In truth, you’d been utterly lost in how good this felt. How right it felt to just do average, mundane tasks with him. “Oh, right, yeah, sorry. Could you tell me when ten minutes have passed?” you asked, almost instantly busying yourself again by carefully dropping the meatballs into the pan he was stirring. “Gotta brown off the meat first…” you instructed softly, almost absently. But he listened, slowing his movements. Your resulting smile was radiant. “Hey, you’re a natural!”

Logan raised a brow. “I’m stirring a pan, bub. Not exactly gourmet style.” You laughed, gently hitting his bicep with the back of your hand, only to stop in your tracks, shaking your knuckles out.

“Ow! I thought you said your bones were made of adamantium,” you exclaimed, rubbing over the back of your hand with your other palm. In truth, it didn’t really hurt, but you just wanted to make a point because nobody has the right to be this built. It was insane.

Logan bit his tongue to stop from smiling, his eyes sliding from that pan to you. “Just the result of a good workout regime,” he shrugged as if it were nothing special. In reality, he knew he looked good. He put a lot of work into his physique, and whilst his mutation did help with that, it was still nice to be complimented on it once in a while.

“Huh… you don’t say,” you responded, cracking open the can of tomatoes once the meatballs had browned to your satisfaction. The metal sizzled slightly as you poured in the sauce, setting the can to the side and retrieving a few basil leaves from the window box on the opposite side of the room. Logan hadn’t noticed it before, remarkably, and though having no experience with plants in recent history, something told him he wouldn’t have too much trouble identifying what they were.

It was a weird feeling. Remembering something he didn’t actually remember. Though it had been the story of his life for the last few years.

You dropped the leaves into the sauce, leaving him to stir the pot whilst you brought out two sets of plates and cutlery and set them on the counter, angling your head so you could catch sight of the time from the watch on his wrist. He would have just told you if he didn’t think you were deriving some kind of joy from attempting to read his watch sideways.

Removing the lid from the pan, you scooped up a single piece of spaghetti, blowing away the steam before dropping it into your hand when you thought it was cool enough. You shot him a quick look Logan could only describe as pure mischief, before throwing the spaghetti against the backsplash of the stove. He watched as the pasta hit the wall with a sick squelch, before sliding down the tiles.

He looked back at you, and you almost instantly burst into fits of laughter. “The fuck was that for?” he asked, his brows furrowed in perplexion.

You managed to recover from laughing, though hiccuped through a few giggles. “You can tell whether spaghetti’s done by throwing it at the wall. If it sticks, it’s raw, if it slides, it’s done,” you exclaimed, tilting your head to get another look at the time, noting that those ten minutes were up.

“Really?”

“Nah, that’s an old wive’s tale. Honestly, it’s just kinda fun to pelt spaghetti at a wall and call it ‘cooking’.” You sent him a wink, and Logan shook his head in fond disbelief. He felt like he’d seen so many sides to you in the last twenty-four hours alone. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to see more. He wanted to see how many sides to you there were, and whether he would like them all as much as he liked the ones he’s already seen. Your fury included.

“Your ten minutes it up, by the way,” he reminded you, and though he had a feeling you already knew, you nodded in thanks anyway, removing the boiling pan from the stove and flicking off the burner, the blue gas flames retreated to nothing. Skirting around him to the sink, you tipped out the water, using the lid of the pan to stop the rest of the spaghetti from falling with it. You shook the pan slightly, shaking out any pieces that had stuck together, before setting about separating the contents into two portions, one slightly bigger than the other.

“How’s it looking?” you asked, leaning back to take a look at the sauce. If Logan had to grit his teeth after smelling your scent one more time his jaw would fucking snap. You really weren’t making this easy on him, were you? Part of him wondered if you were doing it deliberately, but there was no way of you knowing about his heightened senses. Unless you’d asked around, which, with everything you’ve had going on since you got back, he sincerely doubted.

“Looks good to me, but I’m not the expert here,” he handed you the spoon, stepping to the side for you to take over. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, and he tried his fucking best to ignore the slight buzz you’d left.

Lifting the spoon to your lips, you sampled what you’d been slaving over for the last twenty minutes, smiling slightly as the sweet, tarty flavours burst on your tongue. It was a new sensation for Logan to wish he was a spoon, but here he was.

“Perfect!” you beamed, dipping the spoon back in the sauce and turning to him, your palm cupped beneath the wood to prevent anything from spilling onto the floor. “Wanna try it?”

Logan shrugged, stepping forward and allowing you to bring the spoon to his lips. Your eyes never left his, the tips of your fingers grazing the coarse stubble beneath his chin, but you didn’t move away. He struggled to focus on anything other than how close you were to him, the feeling of your fingers on his jaw, your breath fanning the lower half of his face. Your hopeful eyes waiting eagerly for his verdict, searching his expression for any kind of clue. And he was suddenly afraid of what you’d find there.

Stepping back, he pretended like he was savouring what you’d fed him, and whilst it was fucking delicious, it didn’t compare to how he imagined your lips tasting. Or anything else, for that matter.

“‘S’really good,” he managed, and you immediately looked as if you weren’t waiting with bated breath for his approval.

“Isn’t it? Fuck I’m good,” your laugh was more akin to an evil mastermind than someone who’d just made meatballs, but Logan would be hard-pressed to find another time in his life when he felt this at peace with the world. At least, not in the life he could remember. “Sit, I’ll bring it over,” you instructed, removing a larger, metal spoon from the drawer, which he took off you the moment he could.

“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way ‘round, bub. You cooked,” he glanced pointedly to the seat you’d just gestured to. But clearly, you were, amongst many other things, incredibly stubborn.

“Not sure how you worked that one out, you cooked too,” you folded your arms across your chest, setting your jaw.

“Yeah, barely. Sit your ass down,” he pointed to the chair with the spoon in his hand, but you still refused, now leaning against the counter as if you could get any further away from the table. Logan sighed heavily, placing the spoon down again. “Didn’t wanna have to do this…” he muttered, and you didn’t have the chance to ask what he meant by this before his arms were around your waist and you were lifted effortlessly off the ground.

All breath fled from your lungs. Your hands instantly fell to his shoulders, nails clinging on for dear life as he carried you to that godforsaken chair. His grip around your body tightened as you attempted to wriggle free from his arms, laughing breathlessly, exhilaration coursing through your body. Only, the moment he tried to set you down, you did a complete 180 and wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.

“Let go,” his words were muffled against your neck as he bent almost double, and you leaned back until you were practically hovering above the chair.

“Seemed like a good idea a minute ago, huh?” You arched a cocky brow and were met with an expression mirroring your own.

“So you gonna cling to me forever? That your genius plan?”

“If that's what it takes,”

“Let go,” the way he said your name almost had you falling to the floor, your muscles suddenly growing weak. But you stayed strong, out of nothing but principal at this point. He wasn’t even holding you anymore, you were clinging on through sheer willpower alone. For the sake of being stubborn.

“You made this bed, now lie in it,” you responded haughtily, refusing to look into his irritated façade.

“That doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” he growled, and you fucking melted. That wasn’t fucking fair, and judging by the steadily growing smirk, he knew it. His hands gripped both your calves, successfully peeling you from his waist whilst you were distracted. You had no choice but to let your legs fall to the floor, catching yourself on the chair behind you, much to his triumphant grin.

“You cheated!” you gaped, sitting cross-legged on the seat. Logan barely looked over his shoulder as he started spooning the sauce onto the two piles of pasta. All that over fucking spaghetti. And you didn’t even regret it a little.

“How’d I cheat?” he asked, though you were aware he knew full well how. And you were right. He did know. Of course he knew. He’d used that specific voice countless times before. Usually under very different circumstances. He just wanted to hear you say it. Hear you say how it affected you.

But, true to form, you were stubborn.

“You’re stronger than I am,” you sighed, glaring heated daggers into the back of his head. You wanted to be petty, to stand up and take the spoon from him again, but in all honesty, you don’t think you’d survive another round of ‘sit on the fucking chair’.

Logan looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes swirling with knowing, and you stuck your tongue in your cheek and looked away, not giving him any satisfaction of confirming what he was thinking. You’d been so caught up in avoiding eye contact, that you almost jumped when he set the plate down in front of you, setting his own at the opposite place. At least he’d had the sense to realise the large portion was for him. Credit where credit was due, you guessed.

A comfortable silence blanketed the kitchen as he took a seat, two glasses of water in his hands, and you smiled a thank you. If you had your brother to thank for anything, it was teaching you how to cook. Well, it was many more things than that, but at this moment, it was cooking lessons. He didn’t want you going into the world with the culinary skills of a carrot. His words, not yours.

You had a feeling Logan was a hard man to impress, so listening to his small grunt of appreciation was music to your ears. “Told ya I was a good chef,” you beamed after swallowing a mouthful and taking a large sip of water.

Logan nodded in agreement. It wasn’t like he could disagree, the proof was right there, in front of him, in his fucking mouth for fuck’s sake. And the peace pesto from last night. Though he was glad his metabolism was fast. Pasta two days in a row can’t be good for anyone. “Never said you weren’t,” your expression fell from pride to scowling in seconds, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re a fantastic chef.”

Your eyes narrowed as you searched for any hint of dishonesty, but you came up short. Though he said it as if to placate you, something told you he really meant it. You were just playing around, in all honesty, teasing in order to forget what just happened between you, and you’d gotten so much more than you bargained for.

Much like the other night, you both fell into comfortable, mundane conversation, finding refuge in how fucking normal everything felt right now. You laughed and smiled as if the threat of disappearing into nothing didn’t constantly hang above your head, and he teased and joked as if the weight of his forgotten life didn’t constantly burden his shoulders. You could get used to this. Dangerously used to this.

Logan was completely enamoured by you, once again finding himself encapsulated by the way you talk, from moments where you get really into whatever story you’re telling, to quieter moments when you let the conversation settle. If he was to die tomorrow, unlikely but worth entertaining from time to time, it was moments like these he was sure would flash through his mind.

“What about you? I’ve talked your ear off about my life but you never talk about yours. Though, I guess there’s a lot to talk about,” you mused thoughtfully, twisting your fork through your spaghetti, or whatever was left of it. Logan grunted, shifting in his seat to lean against the back of the chair.

“It’s not a happy story,” he admitted quietly, buying himself some time by taking a long glass of water. Your gentle eyes found his, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“I’m not looking for a fairytale. Just who you are,” you fought the urge to reach across the table and slip your hand into his. Though you didn’t want to push him to divulge anything, you just didn’t wanna feel like the whole conversation was one-sided. Sure, he would chime in with a few anecdotes but mainly it was just asking you questions.

If he was being honest with himself, Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you anything about his past. He knew you wouldn’t judge, clearly having seen a fair amount of bullshit yourself, and the fact that it simply wasn’t who you were. No, his problem lay with the fact that he didn’t want to dampen your spirit with his sob story of a past. How he only remembers through thrashing nightmares, waking up soaked in sweat, heart racing. You didn’t need to know any of that.

“Alright… I–” he began before quite literally being saved by the bell. Logan looked at his watch, brows raising at how easily time had once again run away with the two of you. You blinked, looking around as if you could find the bell and ask it personally why it was going off so early before the echoing of ongoing conversation shattered the domestic delusion you’d both managed to trick yourselves into feeling.

“Another time,” you stood from the table, leaning over to grab his plate, but he swatted your hand away and instead took your own.

“Never learn, do ya?” he asked with a slight smile, and you rolled your eyes. With a heavy, defeated sigh, you conceded, simply allowing him to take your plate to the sink. Stretching your arms high above your head, you popped your stiff shoulders, turning your head as two students you knew well entered the kitchen.

“You made meatballs?! No fair, I wanted some!” Jubilee whined, her books still clasped against her chest. Artie stuck out his forked tongue, much like a snake would taste the air around it before his curious face morphed into a frown. It seemed he too wouldn’t have minded meatballs.

Logan looked over his shoulder at the two newcomers, his eyes darting between you and them, your guilt written all over your face.

“I’ll make them for you again sometime soon. We could have one of those big dinners we used to do, remember those?” you asked, your eyes alight with hope. Logan had heard of those. Apparently, you used to cook for the whole mansion, and the students would drag tables and chairs from all different rooms and have a huge feast together. Of course, he didn’t believe a word anybody said about it, since he was convinced you were a figment of everyone’s collective imagination, but now he knew you very much did exist, he could envision you dancing around the kitchen for hours on end, preparing dish after dish.

Jubilee’s face lit up at the suggestion, her hand hitting Artie’s arm excitedly. “Seriously? You mean that? We’ve missed doing that so much. Nobody cooks the way you do!” She bounced on her toes, before whirling and darting from the room, most likely to tell the rest of her friends. Artie lingered for a few seconds, clearly not knowing whether he wanted to stay or to race after Jubilee, before he too turned on his heel and ran after her. You chuckled softly, running a hand through your hair.

“What’ve I gotten myself into…?” you muttered, startling slightly as a hand rested on your shoulder. You looked up at Logan, unable to accurately decipher his expression. All you knew was that it was soft. Softer than you’d seen in the last day or so.

“Were y’always this good with em? The kids?” he asked, and you huffed a laugh. You wished you could say yes, absolutely, you’d always been naturally gifted at looking after children. But that wasn’t the truth.

“Fuck no. Used to hate kids, to be honest with you. Thought they were annoying as fuck when I first started,” you admitted slightly sheepishly. “But, they grew on me. Still not a fan of like, other kids, but any who come to this school? Love ‘em.”

“Makes me wonder why they sent you ‘round America and not someone more suited.” his eyes glinted with mischief and you lightly elbowed his ribs.

“I can be incredibly persuasive.”

“That so?”

“Mmmhm,” you nodded emphatically, stepping out of his range and immediately missing the warmth of his palm on your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left it there until you moved away and hopped onto the table, your feet dangling slightly. He didn’t take his eyes off you, scanning your face as though he was considering you. You cocked a brow. “What?”

“Teach with me.”

You blinked. Well, you weren’t expecting that. “Come again?”

“Teach with me,” he repeated as confidently as he’d said it the first time. You scoffed a laugh.

“What? Why?”

Logan shrugged. “You’re better with the kids than I am, and it would give you a good opportunity to develop your mutation in a combat setting.” And I get to spend more time with you.

You hesitated. “I– I don’t know, Logan. It’s… I don’t think it’s a good idea,” While you wanted nothing more than yet another excuse to be around him, you didn’t know if getting back into teaching was the right thing for you at the moment. Yeah, you missed it. Fuck, you missed it more than you thought you would, but you really meant it when you said you weren’t cut out for it. If only you weren’t the only person who thought so.

“One class.” he bargained. “Help me with one class tomorrow and decide from there.”

You pursed your lips, and Logan could almost hear your internal debate. “You’re not gonna let it go til I do it, are you?”

“Probably not,” he smirked, knowing he’d just got you to agree. Your resulting sigh confirmed it.

“Fine. One class. No more than that.” In all honesty, you would have agreed just to see his resulting smile.

“We’ll see about that bub, class starts at one tomorrow.”

You nodded once, nerves suddenly bubbling in your gut. You were going to teach again, after being out the game for the last two years. Fucking hell you wanted to throw up. But you took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. Maybe this was a good thing. A blessing in disguise. Sure, it had been a while, but maybe Logan was right. Maybe your mutation would only develop under times of stress. You were incredibly stressed today, and look what happened.

“Alright, I’ll talk to Charles and Scott, see what they say,”

Logan huffed, clearly irate with the idea. “Don’t give a shit what Scott says. He couldn’t help you after almost two hours. I was there for two minutes and you made progress,” he huffed, and you couldn’t help but laugh slightly. Was he… was he jealous? No, that wasn’t possible. What would he have to be jealous about?

“Alright tough guy, rein it in. The way you helped out earlier, it wouldn’t surprise me if Charles is telling him you should be taking over my training,” you hadn’t even thought about it before you said it, but now it was out your mouth, you realised it was entirely plausible. Especially since anyone with eyes or ears could see how much better you got on with Logan than you did Scott. Logan suggested one approach and it worked like a charm.

“Ya think so?” Fuck was the hope in his voice as obvious to you as it was to him? The idea of helping you with your mutation, whilst slightly terrifying, excited him. He couldn’t help but think that would be a learning experience for both of you.

“Yeah, why not? Like you said, Scott couldn’t help after two hours,” you shrugged, hopping off the table. “Anyway, I’m in dire need of a shower and comfier clothing, so I’ll see you in a bit.” Logan almost cried at the thought of you no longer smelling like you do now, and he had half the mind to tell you to forget the shower, you smelt that fucking good. But he also didn’t want the reputation of the weird-smell guy, so instead of trapping you in his arms and begging you not to, he simply nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, see you later.” He grumbled, trying not to be obviously annoyed by the fact the time you’d spent together was coming to an end. You shot him a confused look, before disappearing out the door and up the stairs to your room. Logan stayed for a few more minutes, his eyes closed as he finally let himself get lost in your scent. He wanted you. Fuck he’d only known you for a day and he wanted you. How the hell was he supposed to just behave normally now you were back living here? It simply wasn’t possible.

He groaned, running a hand down the side of his face. On the one hand, he really wanted to spend more time with you. He was actively looking forward to spending time with you. But on the other, he didn’t know how much longer he could behave himself. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep up this ‘friendly’ banter with you without it crossing the line. Had it already crossed the line?

Jesus Christ, he didn’t even know. He couldn’t help thinking this was likely about to get extremely messy if he didn’t get his shit together. But, at the same time…

He always liked a little mess.

Freshly showered, moisturised and pampered, you lay face up on your bed, your room feeling more like a forest than anything else. The steam from your shower still rolling out from your bathroom, and the more tropical plants you kept seemed to be absolutely thriving. You were thrilled, you really were, but you couldn’t take your mind off the day you’d just had. Not that it was over, it was only five in the afternoon, but so much had happened in the last day it was hard to wrap your head around.

You’d been replaced as a professor, your bedroom stolen, and you’d been informed that the mutation you thought you knew so well wasn’t actually what you thought it was at all, and that it could very well end you in seconds. You’d thrown a fit, broken your hand, dragged shadows toward you and constructed them into a pair of fucking awesome wings, and cooked with a man you’d known all of two minutes.

And the strangest fucking part was that you couldn’t get him off your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was honestly getting a little irritating, seeing his face every time you close your eyes, hearing his laugh when your room got a little too silent. Feeling the ghostly touches of his arms around your waist, his hands on your neck. His breath against your ear.

You flapped your arms down on your bed in defiance. You would not lie in bed thinking about him all evening. You refused. And luckily, due to an unexpected visit, you didn’t have to.

“He likes you, ya know,”

You screamed, whipping your head back to your door where you saw Kitty strolling in, completely unphased by your reaction. Grabbing one of your pillows, you threw it at her approaching form, watching as it soared straight through her body. Your jaw flapped, completely speechless. “I– Wh– Kitty! You can’t just waltz in here unannounced! Scared me shitless!” you exclaimed, running a stressed hand through your hair.

“Why? I always used to. Been gone that long, huh?” she asked, plopping down on the end of your bed and crossing her legs.

“Yeah… guess I have,” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for your accommodation to be broken into. The moment rumour got out there was a mutant staying a few streets over the road, you had to move. Sometimes you hadn’t been quick enough and had spent the rest of the evening frantically scrubbing blood from beneath your fingernails, before making a quick exit.

Those were the times on your travels nobody needed to know about. Those were the times you’d keep to yourself.

You jumped again as your door burst open, a frantic Logan looking you up and down before his eyes darted around the room. “You alright? I heard screaming,” he panted, slightly breathless from clearly having sprinted up the stairs.

Your heart grew five sizes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Kitty scared the shit out of me, ‘s’all,” you shrugged, too focused on him to notice the woman of the hour beaming wildly, looking between the two of you.

His shoulders sagged, the man visibly relaxing, his eyes lingering on yours. “Okay…”

“Okay…” you repeated, unable to tame your disobedient smile as he almost awkwardly nodded his head.

“Right. I’ll uh, yeah. Leave ya to it,” he clicked his tongue, sending you one last glance to make sure you were really okay, before closing the door.

You sighed, shaking your head fondly, chuckling quietly to yourself.

“Oh. My. God. You like him too!”

Looking up with unnatural speed, you scoffed, waving your hand dismissively. “The fuck are you talking about?” you asked a little too defensively.

“I’m talking about you and Logan. He clearly likes you, and now I can see that you like him too! Oh, this is so fucking cute, just wait until I tell Marie, she’ll go fucking crazy!” Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you had to catch one of her wrists in order to stop her.

“What are you on about? Logan doesn’t like me, we’re just friends,” oh, was it supposed to hurt that much to say it? But, in all honesty, you don’t think you were ready to confront whatever it was you felt for this man. For now, you were pretty content to bask in not knowing, and being kind of excited about it.

“Mhm? Friends don’t eye fuck in the kitchen.”

You choked. Her tone was so matter-of-fact that if you weren’t actually looking at her, you wouldn’t have believed you were talking to Shadowcat herself, Kitty Pryde. “Kitty! Christ, what happened to you? And we weren’t eye fucking. I was hungry and refused to cook insta-noodles, so we actually made a meal.” You explained.

“For almost four hours? Meatballs take twenty minutes, twenty-five at a push,”

“We lost track of time!”

“I repeat, for four hours?” she asked again, folding her arms and raising one of her thin brows. You pursed your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else incriminating. “Though as much,”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t need to, it’s written over your lovestruck face.” She poked her finger toward your nose, and all you could think about was the way Logan flicked your forehead beforehand or the way Logan gave you that little push back in the training room. Or the way Logan–

Christ on a fucking boat when would it end?

“I’m not lovestruck,” you mumbled, dragging your knees up to your chest. You debated telling Kitty about your predicament with your mutation, for the sole reason of explaining why you and Logan were spending so much time together recently, but you didn’t think you could bear the look on her face. The only ones who knew, to your understanding, were Scott, as the leader of the team, Jean, as the leading scientist, Charles for obvious reasons, and Logan because you told him. You didn’t really want another person to know your problems, especially not Kitty.

You couldn’t bear to see her face when you told her you weren’t a phaser anymore. The mere thought broke your heart. You had matching mugs and everything. You couldn’t do that to her. Let alone sharing the idea that your mutation could simply not allow you to return back to the corporeal world one day, and you’d be stuck as nothing but wondering consciousness in the shadows for, effectively, all eternity. That was a little too morbid to talk about even with Logan.

“He’s just… helping me get back into the swing of things. I haven’t been a teacher for a long time, Kit, and since he took my position, he’s offered to help me–”

“Get back into teaching! Oh my god, he has, hasn’t he? That’s so exciting! I thought you didn’t want to get back into it?” She asked, untucking her legs and swinging them around so she was now lying comfortably on your bed, her head propped up on her elbow.

“Well, we’re not getting ahead of ourselves, but yeah, that’s the idea. Gonna help him with his class tomorrow…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to accelerate at the thought of teaching your first class in two years. “So yeah, that’s why we’ve been spending so much time together. It’s nothing serious, promise! Plus, since most of the new students are kids I found, he’s pretty much the only person I don’t know here.” You flopped back down onto your bed, angling your head so you could still see her.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, a moment to let the conversation settle and for your heart to slow a little, before Kitty spoke up again. “He was really excited to meet you,” she offered quietly, and your brows raised subconsciously. “Everytime someone started talking about you, he’d tune in. He was subtle, but Marie noticed it first, and she told me to look out for it. He was looking forward to meeting you for the best part of a year.”

You took a deep breath. That couldn’t possibly be true. “You’re good at seeing things that aren’t there, Kit. I love you for it, but sometimes things really aren’t that deep,” you explained softly, trying your hardest not to smile at the image of Logan only tuning into the conversation if it was about you. It was definitely a stretch of the imagination, but it was a pleasant one.

“Yeah yeah, you watch. I’ll be keeping an eye on your totally platonic relationship with Professor Howlett but mark my words, you’ll be together by the end of the month,” Kitty smacked your calf to emphasise her point, and you shook your leg threateningly, laughing at the notion.

“I cannot wait to see you eat your words. I’m sure they’ll taste of falsehoods and regret.” You flashed her a toothy grin, and she stuck her tongue out in retaliation. You’d missed moments like these. In all honesty, you hadn’t realised how lonely the last two years had been. Hadn’t realised how starved of friendship you’d been until you found yourself talking and laughing amongst friends again. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed this place until you came home again, to both the old friends, and the new.

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #x men logan #x men x reader #x men wolverine #james logan howlett #logan smut #wolverine smut

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simpingforheros · 10 days ago

Note

I need more of the Jason Todd wife’s story cause you ATEEEE

Jason Broke What??

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Dick played stupid games and won stupid prizes, but at least he got to see his sister in law’s ass.

Warning: 18+, NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Not Proofread . Female Pronouns and Anatomy, Dirty talk, Degeragtion/Praise, Violence Against Richard Grayson, Smut, Fluff, Comedy, P in V, Illusions to Anal (fem receiving), Voyeurism, Oral (p and a) (fem receiving), Fingering (fem receiving), Implied Heavy Petting, Nonconsensual Peeping Tom, Masturbation, and plot twist.

A/N: Part 3 to Jason’s Girl?? And Jason’s Wife?! . And again, I'm sorry to keep harassing you Pookie, @jjenthusee, but I feel its only right that you be tagged in the conclusion of this trilogy because you started all of this.

A/N: IM BACK, BABES! You miss me? I miss you all. Thanks for the thoughts and prayers during my break to take care of my family. Also if this fic seems rough, I was writing this in my car during break. Also, I know one of my big no-nos is accepting requests for full fanfics but I had an idea and if the masses want to see more of Dick's misery then I wanna feed yall.

*******************************************************

The holidays were everyone’s favorite time of the year. Especially Bruce and Alfred’s. Surprisingly, Bruce developed a love for them later in his adult life due to his years of constantly having to play Santa to his growing hoard of sidekicks. Now with a manor full of teens and children from multiple different backgrounds and cultures, Alfred proposes a family trip to their private ski resort.

Everything was going smoothly. Tim, Bernard, and Stephane were enjoying ice skating along the frozen lake while Duke, Cass, and Damian were skiing down large hills and mountains trying to out do the other. Bruce and Selina were of course mostly confined to their bedroom, only venturing out for a dinner date or to spend time with the family, while Alfred enjoyed taking a break from everyone doing whatever he delighted himself in doing.

Everyone was happy..

Except for Dick. This year was one of the worst for him. Kori started officially dating Roy Harper after some mission she was involved in with the Outlaws and Barbra didn’t want to see him anymore. And to make matters worse, Jason and his wife of a year were all over each other.

Dick couldn’t even do anything without his brother being there, unintentionally rubbing his healthy love life in his face.

Wanted to go skiing? Jason was already there. His large hands were sturdy on (Y/N)'s back as he was showing her as she was balancing on a snowboard. Her curves were highlighted in the snow by her red snowsuit that just so happened to match Jason's black and red suit. Her eyes light up through her snow goggles as she successfully maneuvers around the terrain with Jason's loud praises.

Wanted to go ice skating? The Todds were already there stumbling over each other as Jason's normally composed stance wavers in his ice skates as his blushing wife giggles and helps him slowly adjust to the new feeling of unease. For a viglieante, he certainly didn't skate like one. Dick wasn't exactly fond of witnessing his younger brother purposefully comp a feel of (Y/N)'s perky ass as he 'stumbles' into her.

Even relaxing in the main room of the huge million dollar cabin was impossible as the moment the moon shines bright in the sky or the sun barely kisses their existence, Jason and (Y/N) were so domestically in tune with the room. It was almost like witnessing a Hallmark movie.

The couple would be in the kitchen with Jason preparing a simple soup with her propped up on the counter, ready to taste the soup when he offered her the wooden spoon. A mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up into his own as she hums at the taste. Dick nearly cringes when he witnesses Jason's sideways smirk as he flexes his hand on her hip.

Sometimes the couple would be sitting on the sofa near the fire. A thick wool blanket wrapped around them as they relaxed into each other. Dick tries not to acknowledge them. Not to recognize the softness of Jason's features as he lazily enjoys his wife's nails lightly scratching his scalp. Not to recognize her plump lips curving deeper as the blanket shifts slightly and Jason's hand caresses her thigh higher than he should. It was especially bad when they would whisper into each other's ears before the pair would hurrily go to their room in a whisper of an excuse of faux exhaustion before giggling as they lock themselves away.

Thankfully, they did those sinful acts of love away from Dick at least. .. Or so he thought.... ++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a skiing accident that started the whole ordeal.

The Bat family had been skiing down the steepest hill they could find out of Stephanie and Damian's petty competition that everyone decided to get involved in. The only members that weren't there were Alfred, who demanded that none of the family ever mention putting him in skiis anywhere near his presence, and the Todds.

Much to Dick's relief, (Y/N) was feeling a bit nauseous and decided to stay behind along with the concerned Red Hood.

Unfortunately, the friendly competition took a turn when Dick accidentally sleds over a rock which caused him to fly off his skis and tumble down the hill. The fiery ache in his arm gave the acrobat a headache as he desperately hoped he didn't break his arm in a lame skiing accident.

"Son of a bitch!" He curses as Bruce skies down to check on him.

"Are you alright?" His adoptive father asks as he carefully helps him up. Dick's eye watering as he jerks his injured arm away from Bruce as he accidentally brushes against it.

Bruce notices the jerk and immediately takes the arm in a gentle grasp as he clinically flexes and prodes at the appendage. Dick nearly cursing as Selina and Damian come down to check on him.

"I don't think its anything too serious," Bruce says as he pulls away. "At worst, you probably have a hairline fracture in it. Alfred would have to check it out just to make sure."

Selina, acting as the pseudo- stepmother figure she was, gently places a hand on Dick's shoulder as she ask, "Do you need me to drop you off at the cabin?"

The eldest son shakes his head before grumbling, "I can make it back on my own. I could use some alone time anyway."

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Unfortunately, Dick doesn't find Alfred when he comes back to the cabin after walking back in the cold snow. Only a note reading,

'I've gone to an event at the main resort tonight. Please contact me through the main resort hotline and I promise to get back to you- Alfred'

"Fucking great..." Dick groans as he decides to just head to bed. His body aches from the trauma of the fall as he drags his feet up the large staircase and up to the main hallway towards the suites bedrooms. It wasn't until a faint but familiar sound that caused the fatigue in him to melt.

The familiar sound of breathlessness that he had only heard one angel sing before. (Y/N)...

As he discreetly walked down the hallway, the melody of whines and moans filled his ears along with the familiar sounds of slurping and squelching.

The cracked door to Pandora's Box calling to him as he hears the whimpers of, "Fuck, baby...."

"Ah not there! Its so embarrassing...."

"Jason, more..."

Dick peers into the door to see something that he wished he could snap a picture of and keep forever just like he did those videos.

Sprawled out on the bed was her in all of her glory. Her skin glowing in perspiration and pleasure as she lays with her cheek pressed against the mattress with her round globes of flesh in the air. Her eyes clouded with tears and desperation as she looks over her shoulder to her lover as her glossy lips whimper.

Jason was only in his tight black boxers as his hand squished the soft flesh of her cheek to the side. His eyes staring back into hers with the same pathetic lust and dominance that he always had as he eats her out from behind. His nose appearing and disappearing in the crack as his tongue plays a cruel game of tag.

His slow, lugritive strokes down to her puffy clit interchange with the rough darting over her pulsing hole before sofly licking up to her puckered hole. His fingers never leaving her neglected as he would hold her pussy open before lazily playing with her clit in between licks.

"Jason, quit being a tease..." She whines before yelping as he roughly pinches her clit. His mouth pulling away from her as she whines.

He begins to slowly tease her folds as he scolds her softly, "I didn't ask for you to be ungrateful."

Her hips jittering to regain some friction before he smacks her ass as he continues. Her whimpers of pain causing Dick's own cock to jump in his pants as he tries to ignore his brother as he kept his eyes on (Y/N). His hand slowly releasing his cock from his ski pants as he continues to watch the scene before him.

"Here I am trying to take care of you after you've been sick all day and all I get in return is some sass." Jason scolds cruelly before he inserts two fingers roughly into her cunt. Her cheeks burning hot under her tear stained skin as her body welcomes him with a sicking squelch as she mumbles.

"I-i'm sorry baby..."

Jason's gaze softens before a mocking look of sympathy appears on his face as he begins to thrust his fingers into her. The slight curve of his hand memorizing her body as he instantly found her G-Spot as she cries in pleasure.

"It's okay, Ma." He coos as he presses open kisses to her shoulders and back as he begins to brutally pound her cunt with his fingers. Her eyes jumping back into her skull as he continues to assault her senses as he says.

"You can't help it that you are sick as a dog in the mornings and then a raging whore at night...Afterall," Jay whispers as his mouth slowly decends back down her body. "Little bit isn't making this easy for you, is she?"

She desperately nods as she tries to roll her hips back to meet his hand as he chuckles at her. "It's alright. I'll take care of you, Baby, but I want you to take care of me too. We are family..."

His mouth instantly attacks her puckered asshole just as she seizes up and orgasms as her eyes roll back into her skull. Her desperate sobs turn into overstimulated whimpers as Jason doesn't let up on her abused holes.

It wasn't until she was still that he raised up and pulled his boxers down. His smirk grew to a shit-eating grin as despite her tired face, she wiggled her hips, ready for him to take her.

"Ass or Cunt?"Jason asks as he jerks his bright angry cock.

Her lips curl in a lazy grin as she says, "Both."

"That's my girl." He says as he lines his tip up with her pussy as he slowly pushes in.

Her whimper along with his groan of relief as his hips slowly meet hers. His upper body bends down to meet her lips in a deep kiss as his hips meet her ass. His hand slides around the plushness of her hip to rest on her lower stomach as he whispers to her mouth.

"Maybe it's not too late to give Little Bit a sibling."

She giggles before she presses another peck to his lips before he rises back up to place his foot adjacent to her knee. Not giving her any more time to adjust, his hips begin to slowly thrust into her quivering body as his hand keeps a tight grip on her asscheek, spreading her open. His cerulean eyes trained on the creamy ring that was slowly developing on the base of his thick cock as he disappears deep inside her.

"Jason..." (Y/N) whimpers as his pace begins to increase.

"God, how is she still so tight?" He groans as his hips begin to snap into hers, his eyes wide as he watches her ass ripple at the growing intensity of his thrusts.

Dick's own hand tries to match the pace as he tries to imagine he was the one fucking her instead of Jason. That he wasn't the one pathetically fucking his fist outside of his brother's room with his other arm possibly fractured.

Her face contorting in pure ecstasy as her manicured nails tear into the comforter. Her wedding rings shining in the low light of the room as Jason's own wedding band disappears in her hair. His grip looks unforgiving as he forces her head deeper into the mattress. His free hand stretching as his thumb circles her ass with light pressure as she cries into the plush bedding.

"Fuck you look so pretty." Jason moans as he slowly fucks his thumb centimeter by centimeter into her ass as gently as he could as his hips abuse her cunt. "I wonder how much prettier you would look with my cum dripping out of his cute little ass and pussy. You think everyone will notice you limping?"

He chuckles as he manages to fill her to the first knuckle as he stops his pace to grind into her, letting the feeling of him invading both of her hole and filling her sink in.

Her hips trembling as she tries to create more friction as her sobful begging wasn't even intelligible as he kept her head down. From the impossibly growing slick on his thighs, it was obvious that her orgasm was coming again and soon as Jason's free hand releases her hair and instead pulls her up flushed against his chest.

Her wanton cries filling the room as she was now exposed for the first time to the room. Her bare breast were littered in dark hickies as Jason's hand comes to paw at her tits. Her arms reaching back as one tangles at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his ass, encouraging him to continue.

"Please..." She begs as trembles in his hold. "Please fuck me...fuck all my holes please. I'm yours to do as you please..."

Jason smiles softly before kissing her cheek. "Good girl...that's my good, sweet little wife..."

His praises never end as his hips begin to snap into her at a brutal pace. Both of their voices became higher in pitch as they began to get lost in each other.

"That's it. Take it. Take it all. It's all for you and you only."

"You're doing so good. No one has such a soft, loving heart and cunt like yours..."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too" She manages to reply back before it hits her.

It was then that she screamed out Jason's name as her coil snapped inside her. Her eyes roll back again as her walls squeeze his cock as he follows her with a rough cry.

Dick quickly covers his mouth as his own orgasm hits him after he managed to not make a mess and not be discovered so far.

The base of Jason's cock is a mess as their releases flow down and drip before the pair calms down with a soft kiss on each other's lips. His cock pulls out of her as he massages her lower stomach gently as he pulls away. His eyes shone in pure admiration and concern.

"You okay?" Jason asks softly as he cups her face.

Her tired eyes staring at his lovingly as she whispers. "Yea...Can I have some water before we go again?"

They both smirk at eachother before Jason pecks her lips as he mumbles. "You're insatiable."

He stands up from the bed as she collapses into the pillow. He pulls on his boxers and heads to the door before Dick even recognizes out of his lust full daze. He didn't have time to react as Jason swings open the door to the pathetic sight before him.

Dick 'Motherfucking' Grayson was peeping into his brother's room. Watching his brother making love to his wife. And jerking off to it.

Before Dick could explain, Jason's face twists in anger as his cold glare indicating that this maybe Nightwing's last day on Earth.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

And like that Dick tries to run away back down the large stair case as Jason chases him to beat his ass. Karma is an ugly bitch because just as the front door was opening, Dick violently twists away from Jason's grasps so hard that he tumbles down the stairs with a large crack and several gasps indicating the end of the vacation.

And that was the story of how Jason broke Dick's arm and little Richard after he caught him being a weirdo.

+++++++++++++

A/N: I swear I'm not a Dick Grayson hater, but I think its kind of tradition now to always rip on him in this miniseries. I hope y'all enjoyed it and please comment what you liked and didn't like about this. I swear I'll actually start cleaning out my drafts soon.

+++++++++++

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE OR CONSENT TO MY POSTS OR WORKS BEING PUBLISHED, PLAGERIZED, STOLEN, REBLOGGED, OR COPIED ONTO ANY OTHER WEBSITE OR BLOG.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #arkham knight #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight jason todd #jason todd x y/n #simpingforheros #arkham knight x you #batman arkham series #redhood fanfic writer #red hood x reader #redhood smut #dc red hood #redhood x reader

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 5 months ago

Text

REPEATING OVER AND OVER, AND OVER, UNTIL YOU MAKE IT TILL THE END!

YOU'LL NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN!

synopsis// both of you stuck in a time loop until you can accept each other. you can not make it out alone no matter how hard you try.

pairing// katsuki bakugo x gn!reader

word count// 9.6k

contents// no quirks, angst, fluff ?, they r idiots, slow burn-ish? at least at first, profanity. like a lot. i stg they cuss every other sentence, it’s like i was a middle school boy who just discovered cuss words writing this, ooc bakugo probably, ages aren’t specified but they r adults, pure cringe but its mha and coming from me so did u expect anything different..?

notes// my last mha draft... im finally free.... anyway i wrote this ages ago but i rlly love this and it may or may not have been inspired by a fnaf song..... (it totally was)

You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quickly to find everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up.

“A-fucking-gain?!”

You throw your legs over the side of your bed and reach for your phone, hoping for something different but getting nothing. There are no notifications, no services, and no matter how long you stare at the time, it never changes. You would know considering you’ve done this routine a hundred times. You throw your phone back onto the nightstand and slip your shoes on, the repetitiveness of it all making your head spin. You’ve got to be going insane; what other logical explanation could there be for reliving the same day over and over again?

"I don't know what I did to piss the universe off, but now it's pissing me off," you mumble as you walk out of your empty house—you'd know because you've checked every nook and cranny for the past hundred times. The minute you step outside, you shout at the air, the sky, the universe, the gods, whatever put you here, “Is this what you wanted? pay back? You fucking got it!”

You stand there half hoping that something would happen, whether someone appeared or a voice would say something to you, but nothing; it’s just complete silence apart from the wind whooshing by. though that’s not to say people weren’t here. If you went far enough into the city, there were crowds of people walking around with no destinations; they seemed like NPCs. The only difference is that you can interact with NPCs, whereas the shells of humans you see in town don't talk, at least not to you. They don't even acknowledge you. It’s almost as if you’re a ghost, which is ironic considering how, when you were alive—no, that's not the right word, sentient maybe? Whatever the point is, when you were a productive member of society, you longed for something exactly like this. To slip by people like the wind, like a ghost, yet now that you have it, you wish for anything but this.

"God, if this is what the afterlife is like, I don't plan on dying anytime soon,” you mutter to yourself as you walk deeper into the city. “Maybe this is the afterlife? or maybe this is hell.”

You stare at your feet as you walk until you hit the point where there are empty husks of humans walking past, and at this point you lift your head, starting to wave at them and standing directly in front of them in a futile attempt to get their attention. Of course it serves to be useless when they walk right past you... just like they have the last hundred times you’ve tried. After a few more futile attempts, you begin walking past them toward a forest. This has been your routine for the entire time you've been trapped here, wherever here may be.

You check your home, walk outside, curse a higher being and ask what you've done to deserve this, contemplate life—or lack thereof?, walk into the city, try to catch someone's attention, and when that doesn't work, you walk off into the forest, spending the whole day there— or you would if time worked properly here—and eventually finding yourself at some random, poorly placed door deep into the forest. You stand right in front of the door; it mocks you, and you imagine yourself tearing it to shreds if it weren't for the fact that the minute you touch it, you're back at square one. You opt to sit in front of the door, just merely studying it; it’s not like there's really much else for you to do.

You don’t know how long you just sit there going back and forth between staring at the door and tearing out the grass from under your hands; had time worked properly here, you’re sure that the moon would have been out by now. You finally admit defeat—for the hundredth time. You stand up and wipe your hands clean of the dirt now laid upon them before you look around the door once more, hoping for something new to appear behind it or beside it, but nothing—the only thing behind the door is more empty forest. So with a sigh, you begrudgingly touch the door handle, and you immediately find yourself waking up with a gasp, sitting up quickly, with everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up again.

This time, though, you don't get up immediately; you lay back down in your bed with a sigh, pulling your blanket up to your chin. You’ve always been alone. This wasn't new to you, but at least before it was your choice. It wasn’t like people didn’t want to be your friend; you just didn’t want to be theirs. In some fucked-up way, you saw your hyper-independence as superior to how other people seemed to need and want friends. but now? Now you want nothing more than to be annoyed by your coworker; you want nothing more than to walk outside and run into someone who will acknowledge you; even if it isn't a positive interaction, it's still an interaction. and after being stuck here for ages, you would kill for an interaction. You throw your blanket off of you as you begin your routine, finally having enough of your pity party.

Check phone? Check.

Put your shoes on? Check.

Search every inch of your house? Check.

Step outside and curse the universe? Check.

Find yourself surronded by people where you cant tell if you’re the ghost here or if they are? Check! Wait—Is that a new person?

You've been here long enough to have memorized or at least vaguely remembered every single person in the crowd, but this new face in the distance isn't one you've seen before; it's unique, you'd remember it, so who is this? Is this a sign your time here is coming to an end? In a frenzy, you push your way through the crowd, ignoring all your thoughts. You stop a few feet in front of him; he’s still a bit away as you study him. His brow furrowed in a scowl, and he's muttering something under his breath that you can't quite make out, but you can tell he's frustrated by his facial expression and the way his hands are curled into tight fists at his side, knuckles paper white at this point.

He finally reaches you but ignores you as he walks past you, and you sigh, wondering why you thought he'd be the one to acknowledge you.

you frown, mumbling aloud to yourself in disappointment, “Do I really need any more NPCs here?”

suddenly though, he stops dead in his tracks like he heard you and he turns around to face you. Holy shit, he heard you?

“What the fuck did you say to me?”

You stare at him blankly before looking to the sides of you and even behind you. “Uh, are you talking to me?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid as he takes a few steps toward you, and subconsciously, you take a few back. “Of course I'm talking to you; who the fuck else would I be talking to?”

You put your hands out in front of you in a stop motion briefly, your face scrunching up in disdain. "Chill the fuck out, asshole, it was just a question."

“Chill the fuck out?” He repeats in disbelief and takes another step forward, while you stand still, tensing up to appear tougher. “I'm stuck in some weird ass place where, up to this point, no one except for your dumbass has even acknowledged me and you’re telling me to chill the fuck out?”

You roll your eyes at his outburst and ask curiously, “You just got here, didn’t you?”

“What the hell do you think? Where even are we?”

"A time loop of some sort,” you say nonchalantly as you shrug, though everything you’re feeling right now is anything but nonchalance.

He scoffs. “Time loop? You expect me to believe that stupid shit?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Believe what you want, either way, you’re still stuck here, idiot.”

“Oh, Im the idiot for getting stuck here? What about you?”

“Me?” you scoff.

“You seem like you’ve been here longer than I have, and you’re still not out. So who’s the real idiot?”

You cross your arms and look away, grumbling, “Maybe I like it here.”

He looks you up and down before rolling his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

Your gaze returns to him with a glare. “Fuck you, I was going to help you.”

“I don't need your fucking help,” he sneers. "You obviously have no idea what the fuck you're doing in the first place."

You walk away, flipping him off, and he does the same, both of you going your separate ways. Though once you hit the edge of the forest, you turn to look back and see if he’s anywhere near, but it’s like he never existed at all. back to the routine.

Enter the forest and walk for an unreasonable amount of time? Check.

Reach the out of place, uncanny door deep in the forest? Check.

Stare at it and imagine ripping it to shreds until it's nothing but dust? Check.

Finally sit down and accept your fate for a bit? Check.

You sigh as you poke at the dirt, the patches of grass you pulled out last time returning to normal as if you had never ripped them out in the first place. Remember what you said earlier about wishing for human interaction? You changed your mind after meeting that random guy, who quickly reminded you why you disliked it in the first place. Although you’ve made up your mind about hating him, you can't help but wonder what he’s doing here in the first place. Obviously, you have no idea why you’re here either, but why did he just pop up after doing this a hundred times or more already? Why is he the only one who can suddenly acknowledge your existence? Maybe there was a glitch in your eternal hell; maybe this was an accident, and he’d be gone by the time you did this all over again. Back to the routine.

Stand up and clean your hands of dirt? Check.

Touch the door handle and wake back up in your bed with a gasp? Check!

You groan and grip your head slightly; the action of being in one place only to suddenly be in another never fails to give you a slight headache. Today, you go through your routine quickly in order to get into the city faster. You want to know if he's still here so badly that you almost seem desperate. much to your dismay, and his—he’s still here and groans at the sight of you.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demands angrily.

You narrow your eyes at him. You regret coming here. “excuse me?”

“One minute I'm walking, and the next I'm back here."

“It’s called a time loop for a reason, idiot.”

“I don't fucking care what it’s called, just stop doing it," he snaps.

“Oh yeah, like I fucking control that! Let me just stop this whole time loop while we’re at it, huh?”

He says nothing; he merely flips you off and walks away, and you do the same.

Just like every other time you find yourself back at the door in the forest, this time you don’t wait to touch it; you immediately go for the handle and restart the time loop in spite of him snapping at you. He comes into your time loop and has the audacity to complain? No one told him to invade your eternal hell. The first handful of days (if you could even call them that) go the exact same way. Wake up, check phone, slip on shoes, check house, curse the universe some more, go into the crowd, argue with the blond-haired boy who seemed to piss you off beyond words, go your separate ways, go into the forest, find the door, think about tearing down said door, sit on the floor for a bit, and then finally go to touch the door only to do it all over again.

The next handful of days were similar, except you and the invader of your eternal hell eventually stopped arguing; you two still acknowledged each other, but only with a scowl and a flip of your middle fingers, walking straight past each other to do your own thing. You can't say you were upset with the arrangement because at least you didn't have to listen to his whining any longer. You just hated how something was added to the time loop yet it seems like nothing has changed at all. you're still stuck, and the door still won't budge. What exactly are you even supposed to be doing? How do you escape? Can you even escape?

You wake up with a gasp for what now seems like the thousandth time, and you're starting to feel the effects of being here for so damn long. You’re exhausted, your bones ache, and you feel like you could drop dead at any moment. Then again, who’s to say you aren’t already dead? You lazily go through your routine; everything is as it should be until you get into the city. The crowds are still there, but someone is missing. The only person who has acknowledged you is missing. Part of you is happy that he’s gone; it’s not like you two have had a productive conversation in the time he's been there; if anything, he was hindering your escape. but the other part?

The other part is a tad bit disappointed, for two reasons. that one, he managed to get out before you, and two, you’re all alone again. As you begin walking toward the forest, you groan. Who cares? It’s not like you needed him or wanted him here anyway; you could get out on your own. Sometime lost in thought, you finally made it to the entrance of the forest, stopping and resting against a tree. You wonder if the longer you stay, the worse you start to deteriorate, like whatever this place is doesn’t want you here in the first place. You frown, it’s not like you want to be here anymore than this place wants you here; you didn’t ask to get stuck in some stupid ass time loop.

“I’ve had enough of your games! let me out!” You scream into the woods, half expecting someone to respond, and someone does.

“Do you have to be so loud?” A deep voice comes from beside you, tone full of annoyance.

You jump slightly as you turn your head to the side to see the owner of the voice, and you’re almost disappointed to see it’s the blond boy with a permanent scowl and jaw clenched tight.

“What the fuck, you’re still here?” You ask breathlessly, still trying to calm your racing heart from his slight jumpscare.

He rolls his eyes and leans against a nearby tree to mimic you. “Where the fuck else would I have gone?”

"I thought you got out or something..."

"Clearly not," he says, tsking. “What is this?”

“A forest. What does it look like, idiot?”

“No shit, I mean, why are we here?”

You stare at him as blankly as your voice comes out, "We? How the hell did you even get here?”

“Followed you,” he says as he crosses his arms.

“You... followed me?” you repeat curiously.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

"Why?" you ask softly, catching him off guard. You almost miss how his eyes widen at the sudden shift toward him.

He sighs and looks away, preferring to take in his surroundings, which mainly consist of the seemingly endless forest. "I've looked everywhere else and there's nothing, so I'm assuming you've found something if you keep coming here."

You hum, so he’s not just an angry idiot after all; he’s an observant idiot too.

“So?” he asks with a small bob of his head.

"So what?"

He scowls, which takes you by surprise because you thought he was already scowling... must just be his face then. “So, did you find something?”

“Oh,” you say. "Yeah, I did, kinda.”

He seems to perk up, impatiently asking, “What is it?”

You go silent briefly, unsure of how to explain a random, uncanny door deep into the forest. "uh- it's difficult to explain," you admit sheepishly.

“Just spit it out already, idiot.”

“No, because you probably won’t even believe me!” you snap in frustration.

He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the tree. “Then show me.”

You stare at him with wide eyes as he walks into the forest. “What?”

“Show me dumbass!” He barks back at you, not pausing to slow down.

You push yourself off the tree in a hurry, yelling as you run after him, “Can you fucking wait! You don’t even know where you’re going!”

He stops, but not without groaning dramatically, which makes you roll your eyes. You caught up to him quickly because he wasn't far away, but that didn't stop you from bending over and placing your hands on your knees as you breathed heavily in and out.

He looks down at you in slight disgust. “You didn’t even run that far, why are you acting like you're dying?”

“Because,” you breathe out heavily. "It takes a toll on you when you've been stuck here as long as I have!"

“Whatever, just hurry up.”

After a moment, you stand back up fully and jerk your head toward the forest, silently telling the boy, “Let's go.”

The walk is quiet; awkwardness hangs heavy in the air as you sluggishly lead the way. It makes you wish he had escaped, because then you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this.

“How long have you been here?” He asks, breaking the silence, which takes you by surprise, but you’re sure anything he does that isn’t just him scowling or yelling could take you by surprise at this point.

You clear your throat. “I dunno…. long.”

“You don’t know?”

"I stopped counting after the hundredth time the loop reset," you shrug.

“Jesus christ, you’ve been here that long?”

“Unfortunately,” you sigh.

Another moment of silence lingers between the two of you as you walk through the forest, but at least the awkwardness has subsided. Though how slowly you're walking is starting to irritate him.

“Can you walk any faster?” he asks harshly.

“I’m tired.”

“Not my problem.”

“You know what?” you say, stopping dead in your tracks. “I think I’m actually gonna take a break.”

“What?” he asks as he watches you sit down on the floor, leaning back against a tree.

you smile up at him mockingly. “Yep! I’m super tired; I need a break.”

He scoffs. “Fuck you, get up.”

You shake your head. “Nah, I don’t think I will. If you wanna get there so bad, find it yourself.”

He glares at you, his lip twitching with the threat of turning into a sneer. “Fine, I will,” he says through clenched teeth.

You’re still smiling at him as you wave goodbye and watch him walk deeper into the forest. He won’t find it. You know that because the door is still a ways away—you've done this walk over a hundred times—he has no chance of finding it without you, so you'll just sit here and relax until he comes running back to you. Lord knows you need it.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Sometime during your relaxing, you ended up falling asleep. Which you didn’t even know was possible here, but nonetheless, it was well appreciated. You would have continued sleeping if it hadn't been for something softly kicking your legs. You frown and try to swat whatever is kicking you away without opening your eyes, wanting to sleep more, but the kicking doesn't stop. You finally, and begrudgingly, open your eyes to find the boy (who you knew would come back) is the one kicking you.

"Oh, you're back already," you yawn, rubbing your eyes.

He stared at you curiously. “Already?”

You nod as you stand up. “I knew you’d come back.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know shit.”

"Then why are you back?"

He tsks and looks away. “Whatever.”

“That’s what I thought,” you say triumphantly.

He says nothing; instead, he waits for you to start walking ahead so he can follow you. Your walking is much faster now, and although you're still exhausted, it’s much more tolerable now. It's as if the fog around your head has lifted, and you can function normally now. If time worked properly here, it would have been about an hour or two after you guys resumed walking when he finally decided to break the long silence.

“Jesus christ, do you even know where you’re going?” he asks in frustration.

You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. I'm not an idiot.”

“Debatable,” he mumbles under his breath.

You decide to ignore that and sigh. “We’re almost there chill out.” There's another lull of silence before you ask, "What's your name?"

He turns to look at you briefly with narrowed eyes before settling his gaze back in front of him. “What? Why the fuck would I tell you that?"

"We're stuck in a time loop together, so I thought it would be nice to know your name, but if you just want me to keep referring to you as an idiot, I'd be more than happy-"

"It's Bakugo," he cuts you off, clearly annoyed.

“I'm y/n,” you say with a grin—wait, you’re actually smiling at getting to know someone? That's odd; you would never... But you guess you could allow it just this once, considering the circumstances.

“Didn’t ask.”

You ignore him. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

“Fucking finally, what even is it?”

You’re close enough that you can see it in the distance. you point at it as you speak, “a-“

“A door?” he erupts, cutting you off and beginning to run off toward it.

You quickly run after him. “Bakugo wait, don't t-“

You suddenly awake with a gasp.

“Don't touch it,” you say to yourself with a groan. "Fucking idiot," you mutter as you roll out of bed, ignoring your routine and simply slipping on your shoes and running off into the city to find him again.

Once you arrive, like yesterday, you can’t find him, and you frown as you start walking toward the forest, because if it’s anything like yesterday, he’d end up there. At least you're hoping he’s there, because if he actually managed to get out before you by doing the same thing you’ve done for a hundred plus times, you would be furious. You arrive at the forest to find him already there, leaning against a tree, and you sigh out in relief as he stands up straight once he sees you.

"What the fuck happened?" he asks when you reach him.

You exhale heavily, slightly frustrated, a dull pain in your head adding to your frustration. "Well, if you had let me explain, I would have told you that touching the door resets the time loop."

"Oh,” he says blankly. “Sorry.”

“You’re apologizing?..” You ask in slight disbelief, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would, but then again, you don’t even know him. Who are you to judge him? Wow, you’ve been here so long that you’ve actually gotten to the point of not judging people; maybe you are going insane.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t seem like someone who would.”

He shrugs. “I wasn't, but, uh, I’ve been trying to work on it or something.”

“I’m not either,” you confess. “But, uh, for the record, I guess i’m sorry too… for you know, yelling at you?”

A range of emotions seem to slather themselves onto Bakugo’s face. first anger, then confusion, and then disgust before his usual scowl returns. “Whatever. What now?”

“Now we go back to the door.”

“And do what?”

“Stare at it? I don't know,” you sigh.

“I’m sorry?” he says in confusion as his eyes immediately narrow in on you. “Is that all you’ve been doing? Staring at the fucking door?”

You throw your arms up in the air dramatically as you defend yourself, asking, “What the fuck else am I supposed to do? If I touch it, the time loop restarts!”

His eye twitches. “So we’re just gonna stare at it. Until what? We fucking die here?”

“Who’s to say we aren’t even already dead?” you mumble under your breath in annoyance. “Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

Bakugo stays silent.

“Right, that’s what I thought.”

He tsks and starts walking into the forest. “Whatever, let's just go.”

You find yourself biting back a smile at what you consider a win, even if this wasn’t a challenge; you just have a terrible habit of seeing everything as a challenge... but nonetheless you find yourself walking with him side by side quietly. The walk was, of course, long, but not as long as last time considering you didn’t stop to sleep this time, so the two of you quickly found yourselves at the door. Both of you just stand there staring at it.

“Maybe it’ll actually do something this time,” Bakugo says, tilting his head at the door as if trying to look at it from a different angle.

You drop yourself to the ground, sitting down with a soft groan. “Try whatever you want in a little bit; doesn’t the time loop being reset hurt your head?”

Bakugo looks down at you and shrugs. “Haven’t noticed.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a huff of air. “You will eventually.”

Bakugo stares at you curiously, what you said having piqued his interest, as he plops himself down on the ground next to you. “How long have you been here?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve already asked me that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m asking again.”

“I don’t know. My answer's still the same.”

He nods slowly. “What was it like?” he asks. "You know, in the beginning, all alone?"

“You actually care?” you ask, wide-eyed and in slight disbelief.

He tsks and returns his attention to the door in front of him. “I don't,” he says harshly. “I’m just trying to make conversation; what the fuck else are we supposed to do?”

"Fair enough," you say, nodding slightly. "At first, I kinda liked it here."

“How?”

“I liked being alone.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” he spits out.

You frown. “You don’t look like the type to enjoy other people’s company either.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what the fuck?”

"I don't like people, but I also don't like being alone," he says softly.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Whatever,” he says. “So what? Do you not like being alone anymore?”

you shrug. “If being alone meant I didn’t have to deal with your dumbass anymore, then yes, I still like being alone.”

“Fuck you; you just complained about being alone,” he grumbled.

“I did not complain,” you explain. “I’m just saying I like being alone when it’s on my own terms.”

He hums.

“And you?” you ask.

"And me what?" he asks, his eyes narrowing at the door.

"What was it like when you first got here?"

“Oh,” he says before he thinks for a moment. “I don’t know; annoying more than anything. I have shit to do in the real world; this doesn’t help.”

You pull your knees in toward your chest. “Where do you even think we are?”

"Fuck if I know," he says, shrugging. "I just want to get the fuck out; if I was stuck here as long as you, I'd probably go insane."

You stare at him blankly. “You’re already insane, and I'm already insane.”

Bakugo side eyes you.

“What other logical explanation is there for us being here? We’re obviously crazy.”

He huffs and you almost find yourself mistaking it for a laugh. "Yeah, I guess so.”

You feel your heart race a little, and although you two still bicker a bit, you can’t deny how much you're starting to appreciate his company. It's an odd feeling, really, appreciating company for a change instead of immediately trying to get rid of it. As you push yourself up onto your feet, you sigh. “Round two?”

He nods as he copies your actions by standing up. “Guess so.”

You take a deep breath before touching the door, only to gasp as you awaken, but this time there's another gasp. You look beside you and discover Bakugo in your bed, which causes you to fall out of it from shock.

"Jesus, why are you in my bed?!"

“Why are you asking like I fucking know?!”

You immediately rose to your feet, rubbing your head because, if the headache from the reset wasn’t enough, you also hit it when you fell out of bed. “What the fuck is going on…”

Bakugo quickly gets out of your bed and tsks. “Why’d it change?”

“Maybe the time loop likes us working together?” You ask rhetorically because it's not like Bakugo has an answer either.

“Yeah, or it hates us working together.”

“Whatever it is, at least something changed finally. Maybe other things changed too?” you wonder as you go to slip on your shoes.

“Do we plan on just going back to the stupid ass door every time?”

"It's not like we have any other options, Bakugo. Are you ready?”

“I fucking guess.”

The two of you venture off into the city, with nothing seeming out of place or changed, and it becomes obvious that the only thing that changed was Bakugo being in your bed when you end up reaching the door.

"So much for something changing," mutters Bakugo, frustrated.

You drop yourself to the ground again. “This is annoying.”

He mimics your actions. “No shit.”

A moment of silence falls between you two before you speak up. “Are you even real?”

Bakugo’s face scrunches up in annoyance and confusion. “What the fuck do you mean am i real?”

“I don't know! Maybe I have gone insane and just made you up!”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I'm real. I have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” he turns his attention to you, “Are you real?”

“Yes, I also have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” you snap back.

He hums, almost like he doesn't believe you, but he doesn't outright say it, and you quickly respond with a hum of your own before laying yourself down on the grass, looking up toward the never-changing sky. It's so blue and there are so many clouds that it almost looks fake, which makes sense given that this entire place appears to be fake, an empty husk of the real place that exists somewhere else outside of here.

"How was your life?" you inquire, seemingly out of nowhere.

Bakugo looks down at you. “Boring,” he says with a sigh. "It wasn't as boring as this place, but it was still fucking boring; at least I had friends and could do shit there."

You can't help but giggle. “You had friends?”

He scowls at you and flips you off before turning away and nodding. “Unlike you, I'm sure.”

You shrug, though it looks more like a jolt. “I prefer being alone.”

“You say that, but you’re not all that convincing.”

“Oh, fuck off and tell me about your imaginary friends,” you snicker and ignore his very wrong—very right— comment.

He bit back a smirk in response to your jab at him. Normally, Bakugo would despise anyone who dared to fight back, but right now? It was actually nice? which, the feeling within itself, made Bakugo want to hate you even more.

“Bakugo?” you ask after a few moments of silence.

“Shut up, I'm thinking,” he snaps. "There are only three people I consider to be my friends."

You laugh. “What?”

“The rest are just.. acquaintances.”

You hum in content, your hands behind your head. “Tell me bout em.”

“There's this nerd; I've known him since we were kids,” he begins to explain. “I was a douche to him.”

"I can believe that."

Bakugo gives you a look that either says he wants to murder you or for you to shut up, and you merely grin up at him.

"He somehow forgave me, and yeah, we've been friends since."

“And the other two?”

“Some dumbass with shitty hair and another dumbass with pink cheeks,” he explains vaguely.

"Wow, I'm sure they really enjoy being called a dumbass," you state flatly.

He shrugs. "They should if they want to be my friend."

“Those are your only requirements? Tolerate being called a dumbass and anyone can be your friend?” you tease.

“Shut up, at least I have friends.”

“I already told you, I like being alone!” you defend with a pout.

He hums as he lays himself down. “And I already told you I don't believe you.”

"Believe what you want," you say as you turn to face him, only to find him already looking at you. “Besides, what do you care?”

He shifts his gaze to the sky. “I don’t.”

You follow along with him, looking back up at the sky, mumbling, "Sure you don't."

Bakugo doesn't bother replying, and you don't bother trying to keep the conversation going. The two of you just lay there, staring up at the sky and listening to the trees sway in the wind.

You suddenly find yourself being woken up with small kicks to your legs, and you groan. You try to open your eyes only to be blinded by the sun.

“Jesus Christ!” you wince.

Bakugo groans as he places his hand over your face to shield your eyes from the sun. You finally get them to open, and you mutter a small thanks to him.

“Did I fall asleep?” you ask as you stand up.

Bakugo shoves his hands into his pockets with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Sorry...”

"It's fine," he says, shrugging. “Round three?”

You nod as you stretch, which is a pointless action when you're about to be thrown into your bed, but you do it anyway. Bakugo touches the door, and you find yourselves immediately waking up with a gasp in your bed.

You jump straight up and rub your temples. “God, I will never get used to that.”

"Yeah, because the day you get used to that is the day you lose your mind."

You slip your shoes on and roll your eyes. “Ready?”

He stares at you blankly.

"Stupid question, my bad, damn," you quickly add, realizing he's not going to say anything.

When the two of you walk out of your house, Bakugo's steps are loud, and you can tell he's annoyed just by them. Bakugo tries to walk into the city only to be stopped by something.

"What are you doing?" you ask, watching him stagger backwards.

"It's not me," he snaps as he extends his hand in front of him, only to be stopped by something that isn't there, he kind of looks like a mime.

You hold back a laugh as you join him by his side, reaching out only to be stopped by an invisible wall of some sort; this makes your face drop. “What the fuck?”

“Exactly.”

“So what? We aren't allowed in the city anymore?”

"I guess not." Bakugo groans, annoyed. “Is there another way to the forest?”

You don't even get the chance to reply when the two of you hear rumbling. Both your heads snapping toward the noise only to see a newly carved out path to the forest in the distance.

You swallow hard, blinking at the scene in front of you. “You, uh, you saw that right?”

Bakugo nods slowly. “I did.”

You laugh nervously and extend your hands as if to show off the new path. “After you.”

“Fuck no, after you.”

“What are you scared? Coward.”

Bakugo glares at you. “Fuck you,” he says before starting to walk toward the path, and you smile in triumph.

The two of you are silent the whole walk, taking in your new surroundings for anything suspicious. This walk seems longer than the one from the city, but it's not like you expected anything different, and it doesn't matter when you finally get to the door.

"Why are things changing so suddenly?" you wonder as you stare at the door.

"Hell if I know," mumbles Bakugo, joining you in staring at the door.

“Do you think we’re doing something right?” you ask as you turn your head to look at him.

“Or something wrong.”

“God, this is so weird,” you sigh in frustration as you take a few steps back and sit down.

He turns to look down at you, perplexed. “Oh, now it's weird? It wasn't weird the first hundred fucking times we stared at this door?”

"You know what I mean."

He rolls his eyes as he sits down a few feet in front of you. “Whatever.”

You both sit there in silence, your minds racing with confusion. Why are things changing now, and are they changing for the better or for the worse? You sit there picking at your nails while he sits there staring at the door like he’s trying to make it explode with his mind. After a while, Bakugo sighs, and this catching of your attention makes you look up at him. When he speaks up, you're about to ask if he's okay.

“What was your life like?” He asks out of nowhere, and you certainly were not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

“Oh,” you say in slight confusion. “Um, fine? I don't know; I mean, I didn't have friends-“

“Knew it,” he chimes in with a smirk.

“Fuck off.”

"So, what did you have if you didn't have friends?" He asks flatly, not as if he really cares but as if he's just trying to avoid silence, which could be him caring in some ways.

“I had a job at a little coffee shop,” you recall with a small smile.

“I thought you would've worked from home or something.”

“Why?”

“Because you hate people and like being alone?” He says it almost condescendingly, like you should have already known the reason why.

“Huh,” you say flatly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Maybe you were subconsciously yearning for social interaction?

“I'm always right.”

You hum and lay yourself down. “What’s your full name?”

He lays down with you. “Why the fuck do you wanna know? You gonna stalk me?”

“You wish.”

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

“That’s a nice name.”

He closes his eyes. “I know dumbass.”

“You could’ve just said thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says harshly, like he's mocking you, but you ignore it and smile. “What’s yours?” he asks quietly.

“Y/n L/n.”

“My name is better, but yours is alright, I guess,” he says under his breath, like this is his best attempt at a compliment.

You laugh softly, and the noise causes Bakugo's cheeks to warm, which he tries to ignore and blames on the sun. You don't bother responding and close your eyes. Both of you are just laying there with your eyes closed, enjoying each other's company, or at least you're enjoying his. Which is odd; it makes you slightly nauseous to think that for once, you’re actually enjoying someone's company.

Had someone told real life you that you'd be enjoying someone's company, you would have laughed in their face and probably insulted them for not being as “independent” as you are. But despite all of that, you can't actually say you hate it—not at all, actually. but for the time being, you're blaming that on the circumstances. After a while, you find yourself opening your eyes, slightly wincing at the bright sun, but turning your head to look at Bakugo, who is staring up at the sky without a scowl on his face. Huh. You thought that scowl was permanent, though he actually looks surprisingly nice without one?

“Are you dead?” you ask out of nowhere.

Bakugo flinches slightly, taken aback by your voice. “Being dead would probably be better than this.”

“Rude,” you huff.

“I mean the situation, not you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you tease. “Round four?”

He sighs defeatedly. “Yeah, I guess.”

You nod as the two of you stand up and quickly dust yourselves off. You step toward the door and find yourself hesitating.

“What are you waiting for?” Bakugo asks impatiently.

You shake your head and touch the door. You both wake up with a gasp, but you're not in your room; instead, you're back on the forest floor where you were just moments ago.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim aloud.

"Did you touch it?" asks Bakugo, looking down at the ground beneath him.

“Of course I did!” you explain. “I don't understand?”

Bakugo quickly stands up and offers a hand out to help you out. You hesitate to take his hand, making him shake his head as if to silently ask, “What's the problem?” You sigh as you accept his help.

Once your up, Bakugo pulls his hand away and asks, “Should we try to go back to your house?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, that's a good idea.”

Bakugo nods back, and you find yourself walking out of the forest, a strange feeling given that you're always walking in, never out; it's eerie in a way. You’ve only been walking for, what you assume, a few minutes when he speaks up.

"Is that actually your house?" he wonders. "Like in the real world, I guess."

You shake your head. “Nah, I just call it that considering how long I've been here, you know? I actually live in an apartment.”

He hums. “Me too.”

"You too?"

“Yes? Why the fuck do you sound so shocked?” he asks with a confused shake of his head.

"I don't know... I guess you seem like the type of person who would say they're too good for an apartment," you explain with a shrug.

“It’s cheaper, and because I have a roommate that makes it even more cheap.”

“Oh!! Let me guess!” you speak up excitedly. “Is it the nerd? Or the shitty hair? Oh or the pink cheeks?”

He finds himself chuckling at your use of his nicknames for them, and the sound goes straight to your stomach. Butterflies immediately begin to grow there. “It's the nerd,” he says once he’s finally composed himself.

You nod with a smile. “My roommate is a cat.”

He hums, and before he can respond, he walks straight into something, just like the last time, except this time it's not the invisible city wall he walked into but the middle of the forest. You immediately find yourself frantically grabbing at the invisible force.

“Are you serious?” you fume. “Now we’re trapped in the fucking forest?”

Bakugo finds himself walking toward the sides, only to find that those are blocked off by nothing as well. “So what? we can’t leave?”

“It doesn’t want us to leave,” you correct him.

“Who the fuck is it?” Bakugo asked with a confused glare.

“Whatever the fuck is doing this.”

Bakugo sighs out in defeat as he places his hands on his hips, letting his head drop as he just stares at the floor. “Now what?” he mumbles.

You rub your face in frustration. “We go back to the door, I guess.”

He lifts his head and tsks. “Great.”

The walk back into the forest is tense, but since you two had only made it halfway before being stopped, it wasn't that long. Still, the air between you two had become suffocating from your respective frustrations with being trapped here, his more so than yours. Finally, you two arrive at the door, and Bakugo collapses to the ground with a loud groan.

“This sucks,” he seethes.

You shrug as you take a seat in front of him. “It could be worse.”

“What?” he asks harshly. “Please, please, please enlighten me on how this could be any worse.”

You keep your gaze on the ground, nervously pulling out the grass as you speak. “Well, I mean, yeah, of course it sucks! like, really bad! and like, yeah, sure, the universe seems very against me right now, but at least I have you?”

"Huh," he says blankly before remaining silent for a moment, and you grimace; you should not have said that. Why the fuck would you say that? “Yeah.”

Your head shoots up to see him already staring at you softly. “Yeah?” you repeat.

"Yeah, you're right," he says slowly, almost painfully so.

You can't help but break out into a wide grin. “Bakugo? Are you actually starting to care about me?”

He bites back a smile as he rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck off.”

You laugh and lay yourself on the grass. “Lay with me.”

He hums curiously at you yet listens, laying himself right next to you, leaving only a small space between you two. You ignore the strange urge to take his hand in yours.

“Do you think we would’ve been friends in, like, real life, I guess?”

“I never agreed to being your friend,” he points out flatly, ignoring your question.

“Shut up, Bakugo.”

He snickers. “Probably not though.”

You feign offense, or you feign feigning offense, because that does actually hurt your feelings slightly. “Rude…”

“Shut up. I don't mean it like that,” he reassures. “I mean, you even said it yourself—you don't like people, and I only consider like three people my friends.”

You frown. “I guess you’re right.”

"It's futile to think about that shit now; I doubt we'll ever go back," he mumbles, disappointed.

You ignore how much you’re not disappointed that you might not ever go back anytime soon. “Round five?”

Bakugo nods as he stands up. “Yeah.”

You try to get up, but he stops you. You stare at him curiously.

“If we’re just going to end up lying back down when it restarts, maybe if you’re already lying down, your head won't hurt as much?” he questions thoughtfully.

You ignore how warm your cheeks feel at his concern and lay back down. “Yeah, maybe.”

Bakugo nods at you before touching the door, and still, both of you end up waking up with a gasp in your positions from a moment ago, but your head doesn't hurt this time.

Bakugo ignores the disappointment swimming in his stomach and turns his gaze to you, who appears shocked. “Did it work?”

You nod slowly before looking at him with a smile. “Yeah, it did! Thanks Bakugo..”

He presses his lips into a tight line as if to stop a smile or ignore how hot his face feels. “Yeah, whatever. Uh, should we go see how far we can make it out?”

You stand up and extend your hand to him, and he quickly accepts it. “Yep!”

The two of you don't even make it ten feet away before being blocked by an invisible wall. The two of you stumble back and stare at each other wide-eyed before both of you immediately start walking out toward the sides, only to be stopped again.

"Oh my fucking god, it boxed us in," Bakugo barks.

You laugh out nervously. “Um, so, like, is it just gonna keep getting smaller?”

Bakugo's head snaps toward you in concern as your voice shakes, and he notices you beginning to tremble.

"N-not that it's a big deal; I'm not claustrophobic or anything, I'm just curious." You panic, your chest heaving up and down.

Bakugo immediately runs up to you (not that he has to run far) and places his hands on your shoulders, roughly gripping them in some poor attempt to ground you, which works slightly because now you're staring at just him, getting lost in his eyes.

“It’s fine, It's gonna be fucking fine,” he says harshly. “I’ll get us out of here, okay?”

You just stare at him, blinking at him blankly.

He shakes you gently. “Y/n?”

you swallow harshly.

“Y/n!”

You flinch. “Y-yes?”

"You're going to be fine," he assures, softly smiling at you.

And although you know he can't guarantee that, he can't guarantee that you'll be okay or that he’ll get you guys out of here, you still believe him.

you nod. “Okay. I trust you.”

He nods and returns his hands to his sides before walking back to the door (not that he has to walk far) and sitting down, patting the ground in front of him to invite you to join him. You two sit in comfortable silence, but you can't stand it; you need to talk about something or you'll start spiraling at the thought of the invisible walls closing in on you.

“Do you think we’re supposed to be learning something?” you inquire, pulling your knees into your chest.

He leans back on his palms as he stares at you through furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“Like a lesson?” you elaborate. "Isn't that why most people get trapped in time loops?"

He gives a half-shrug and thinks for a moment. “I guess? Do you think you’re learning a ‘lesson’?”

“Maybe?” you say as you place your head on your knees.

Bakugo stares at you, and when you don't say anything, he bobs his head as if to tell you to go on.

“I don't think I like being alone as much as I say I do.”

"Oh?" he says, tilting his head at you with a cocky grin.

You roll your eyes at him through a smile. “Shut up… I'm just saying you’re not so bad; your company is actually enjoyable?”

“Of course it is; It’s me,” he boasts.

“I regret saying anything.”

“I get it, though.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I mean, I get it through my lesson?”

You bobbed your head at him in the same way he did at you.

"Maybe I don't hate having or making new friends as much as I say I do," he admits quietly.

“Of course you don't; it’s me,” you mock with a shit-eating grin.

He stares at you just smiling fondly, not even a laugh, or a fuck off. No, he's just staring at you as if you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, as if you created the universe—no, scratch that, as if you are the universe. But before you or he can say anything, you hear something rattling, specifically the door handle rattling.

Both of your heads turn toward the door, watching it rattle before looking back at each other and slowly rising in unison.

“Get behind me,” he whispers harshly.

“I can take care of—“

“Y/n,” he snaps through clenched teeth in an attempt to hush his voice.

You sigh and begrudgingly agree, placing yourself behind him as you two walk toward the door.

He takes a deep breath before whispering, "Round six?"

You nod slowly. “Round six.”

You gasp and sit up quickly, instinctively looking to your side for Bakugo, but you're met by your cat.

He paws at you, and you just stare blankly at him, your chest heaving up and down rapidly. Your cat climbs onto your lap, and you begin to pet him as tears sting your eyes and you take in your surroundings. Though your moment of realizing you're back home is ruined by a phone call. You immediately pick up.

“Bakugo?” you say breathlessly.

Your coworker clears her throat awkwardly. “uh what? It’s mina, y/n. Where are you? I mean, I know you don't like me, but at least come to work!"

You exhale heavily and rub the tears from your eyes harshly. "I'm so sorry, Mina- I'll be there as soon as I can."

“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Take your time. See you soon!” She says it softly, obviously taken off guard by your apology and lack of hostility.

You hang up quickly and sniffle. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. How long has it even been? Has any time even passed here? When you look at the date, it is the same as it was before you were thrown into the time loop. It could have been months there, but here? It had been merely seconds, if that. You feel your heart break at the lack of Bakugo here; you had been stuck with him for probably weeks, and now you’re... not. And you’re supposed to just go back to being a productive member of society like nothing happened? Like he didn't just single-handedly change your view on being alone? You sigh and shake your head as you pick your cat off of you, now is not the time to have an existential crisis, you have a job to get to. You set your cat down and practically dash to get dressed, not caring enough about even looking presentable as you grab your things and run out the door, getting to your job in record time.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Mina is surprised to see you almost break through the door. “I told you to take your time,” she says with a frown.

You shake your head and bend over as you catch your breath. “No, it's okay,” you say through ragged breaths.

She just stares at you silently until you calm down and approach her behind the counter. “I'm sorry,” you say once you've reached her.

She laughs. "It's fine; being late isn't such a big deal."

You frown; god, she's really gonna make you say it, isn’t she? “No, I mean, I'm sorry about, uh, always being an asshole towards you and stuff,” you start mumbling toward the end, of course you mean it but you still find it quite embarrasing.

“Oh! Thank you? Um… Did something happen?”

You let out a breathy laugh that almost sounds sad, if that's even possible, and if it isn't, you're making it so. “Uh, yeah, you could say that.”

Mina notices how your demeanor has wilted and places a comforting hand on your shoulder while giving you a small smile.

You return her smile before sighing. "I'm gonna go put my things in the back."

While in the back, you hear the shop bell ring, indicating that a customer is approaching, so you hurry and put your belongings away to assist Mina. Once you're back out there, you don't notice how the customer is waiting by the counter, where you would hand them their coffee. Your main focus is just on making the drink as Mina hands you the cup with what they want written on it. You make quick work of it as Mina starts taking other orders from people beginning to walk in, and in record time you finish the drink, walking to the side of the counter where people pick up coffees. You turn the cup around to look for a name and feel your heart drop when you see it.

Your brow furrows as you mumble, "Bakugo?"

When he hears your voice, Bakugo's head snaps up from his phone, and he doesn't even try to hide the smile that has now appeared on his face. “Y/n?”

"Holy shit!" you exclaim excitedly as you lose your grip on his drink and it splatters everywhere, Bakugo laughing at how half of it is now on your clothes and you can't help but laugh along with him.

“You plan on remaking my drink?”

You nod quickly and hurriedly speak, “Yes! but, um, can you stay after?”

He smirks. “What, was our time together not enough for you?”

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “If I agree, will you stay?”

"Maybe."

You sigh. "Yes Bakugo, our time together wasn't enough for me."

Bakugo chuckles softly.

“Yeah Y/n, I’ll stay.”

380 notes · View notes

cosyvelvetorchid · 3 months ago

Note

After watching a romcom with Tommy (who mentions offhand that nobody has ever romanced him like that), Buck activates his inner romantic (ie Season1Boyfriend!Buck) with one mission in mind: to completely and utterly sweep Tommy off his feet.

Tommy is this cool, confident and unflappable guy 24/7, and Buck has this need to see him blush.

Flowers, a candlelit meal, slowdancing in the moonlight. The whole shebang, and Tommy melts.

Im so sorry that this took an absolute age to get to! Lots of stuff going on and illness blah blah blah ANYWAY! Here it is, I hope you like it.

As Always if you have a bucktommy or saltommy prompt send to my ask box. Smut, fluff, whump.. whatever you want

🩶

********

RATING: T

TW: 1 use of the f-slur

WORDS: 2,432

********

Buck knew that Tommy loved a romcom. He liked lots of genres of movies, and all for different reasons. But romcoms he loved because of the fantasy of them. He’d told Buck once that growing up with a father like his, and then spending the majority of his adult years firmly tucked away in the closet, that he’d wholeheartedly believed that a true love or romance was not in his own future. That living vicariously through two people on screen, even if they were straight, was the closest thing he’d get to a happy ending.

He’d very much changed his mind since he’d met his Evan, but still Buck had been determined to give him all the romantic moments he’d missed out on over his life.

It started with surprising Tommy with a candle lit dinner ready when he came home from work.. Which ended with Buck being bent over the table as dessert. Not quite the emotional response he was going for, but hey who was he to say no to that!

Tommy mentioned once a book he loved as kid and Buck spent three weeks hunting down a first edition. He was certainly blown away by Bucks thoughtfulness and showed him immediately by getting on his knees. Again Buck was happy to oblige - he always was - but it still wasn’t the response he was truly hoping for.

He wanted to sweep Tommy entirely off his feet. Woo him to the point of breathlessness. Make him feel so unbelievably cherished and loved that he forgets out to speak.

And then the idea hit him.

Oddly, while watching Carrie.

“Man, the worst thing that happened at our senior prom was Mikey Jacobs spiking the punch. I still can’t drink Jack Daniels” Buck reminisced.

“Better than pigs blood, babe. Or, you know, the revenge by telekinesis.”

“True. What about you? What was yours like?”

Tommy sighed. “I, uh, didn’t go to mine.”

“Really?” Buck looked at him in surprise. “I mean granted you were secretly gay, but I know the girls would have been killing each other to get the Tommy Kinard to take them to prom.” The idea seemed to bring such joy to his Evans face that Tommy almost didn’t want to admit the reality.

“I appreciate the support, babe, but I wasn’t exactly drowning in dates with girls.” He laughed “I was 6’2” by the time I was 15 but I didn’t know how to build muscle or even eat right for my body’s needs. I went from 5’8” and over weight to 6’2” and skinny, which my dad just loved to point out constantly. I was super insecure and had zero confidence to ask a a girl out.” A look of sadness flickered across his face.

“Did people not go stag at your school?”

Tommy huffed a cold laugh. “Only fags and virgins go stag to a prom, Thomas.” He mimicked his father’s voice. Buck gently rubbed Tommys arm.

“I’m sorry you had to hear shit like that from your dad. You deserved so much better than that.”

“I know that now and mostly because of you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Bucks lips and smiled.

“Good.” He smiled back, already formulating his next plan to woo the shit out of his boyfriend.

This one took a few weeks of planning but Buck was certain it would knock Tommys socks off.

Tommy was surprised that Lucy had suddenly turned up at Harbour on what was supposed to be her day off. Even more surprised when she offered, nay - insisted - that she take Tommys remaining 24 hours of his 48 hours shift.

In the end their Captain had to practically shove him out of the harbour doors to get him out. He eventually relented and left for home.

Approaching their front door he noticed a note in handwriting so bad it had to be Bucks. God did he love him but the man’s penmanship looked like a doctor’s. A drunk doctor’s. Wearing a plaster cast. Thankfully after almost a year together he’d learned how to decipher Evans scribbles.

“Go straight upstairs.

Shower and get dressed..”

“Huh?”

“Don’t “huh” me, Kinard. Just do it. Then meet me in the dining room.

P.s: love you, Your Evan.”

Tommy chuckled to himself but did as he was asked and walked straight up the stairs to their bedroom. He was surprised, and confused, to see his tux freshly pressed and laid out on their bed.

After showering and dressing he made his way back down found himself knocking on his own dining room door for permission to enter.

“Come in.” Evans voice called from inside.

Tommy opened the door his mouth and eyes opened wide at what he saw.

The table had been pushed to the side wall, with a black cloth draped over the top, atop of which was a punch bowl filled with an orangey pink liquid. Surrounding it was lots of bowls filled with candy and chips and other kids favourite snacks.

A shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling with paper decorations swinging from the Center of the room and up to the corners. Twinkling lights hung all around giving the room a gorgeous warm glow.

And standing in the centre of the dining room, under the disco ball, in a tux that fit him so fucking perfectly was the most beautiful man Tommy had ever seen.

“What’s.. what’s going on?” Tommy asked not being able to hide his smile.

Evan took a few steps toward him and held out his hand. “Thomas Kinard. Will you go to prom with me?” Every time Tommy thinks he can’t fall in love with Evan any more, he’s proven wrong.

For the next two hours they do nothing but dance like idiots, drink spiked punch (tequila instead of Jack Daniel’s this time - buck would actually like to remember this prom), and snack on junk food.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose like this. Or even smiled this hard. Evan was by far the greatest joy to ever come into his life. He reminded Tommy of what fun was, what joy was and what it felt like to be truly unashamedly himself - something that nobody had ever made him felt safe enough to truly be.

Buck knew he’d achieved his task of sweeping Tommy off his feet tonight already, but there was one more thing he decided, last minute, that he was going to do.

Buck picked up his phone and searched for the perfect song, settling on Songbird by Eva Cassidy because it was on the soundtrack to Tommy’s favourite movie Love, Actually. He didn’t even need to do anything because as soon as the opening bars played through the speaker Tommy instantly knew what it was and pulled Buck into a slow dance.

They swayed slowly and silently for a few moments just breathing in the perfect moment with each other with Tommys arms wrapped around Bucks waist and Bucks arms around his neck.

“So, not that I’m complaining, babe, what with all the romancing lately?” Tommy asked.

“You deserve it.” Was Bucks simply reply. Tommy looked at him with a mixture of adoration with a hint of confusion. “You go out of your way to show me how much you love me and to do all these sweet and romantic things for me, but you deserve them too. You deserve to be shown how much you mean to me also.” Tommy was looking at him with those eyes again - the big bright ones Buck first saw right before Tommy had kissed him for the first time - and he had to use every bit of strength to hold back from jumping him, because he needed to say this before his courage disappeared.

“I see how you look at these little moments in the romcoms you love and I hate that you never got to experience them, so I wanted you to have some of them of your own. Our own.

“Plus, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you just how much I love you. To tell you how unbelievably happy that you walked, well, flew into my life. To tell you that I have never in all of my life thought that I deserved to have someone so beautiful and kind and wonderful and just fucking incredible as you. And.. and to ask you to marry me.”

Tommy blinked. Did he hear that correctly?

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s.. we’ve not even been together a full year yet, and full disclosure I didn’t even know I was going to ask until like 10 minutes ago so I don’t have a ring, and-“ Tommy grabbed Buck either side of his neck and pressed his lips firmly against his. When Tommy pulled back his cheeks were wet with tears cascading over his beautiful lower lashes. Finally, Buck thought.

“Hold that thought.” He said simply before quickly leaving the room. He took 2 steps at a time as he hurtled upstairs, before running back down seconds later back to Buck still stood in the center of the dining room.

He lifted up his palm on top of which was a dark blue velvet box, opened, with 2 tarnished silver bands of differing sizes, each with a shiny silver strip running around the centre of each of them.

“You bought.. how long have you..” Buck could barely get the words out. His eyes kept flicking between Tommys beautiful face and the rings in his hand.

“About a month. Well, I ordered them custom made about 2 months ago but I’ve had them for a month.”

“Custom?” Was all Buck could get out.

Tommy pointed to the shiny part of the rings. “A couple of years ago I had this rescue and the husband of the woman we were life flighting was telling us about how they met. Anyway, he said that his family had this tradition of putting something sentimental in the band to give to your partner as.. sort of as a piece of you.

You know that piece of metal that sits on my desk in the study?”

“Y-yeah. It’s part of the blade from the first chopper you flew when you transferred to harbour.”

“Right. Well, it now has a little chunk missing.” He laughed. “Transferring to the 217 was the first piece of me finally becoming who I always wanted to be. You’re the last piece, Evan.”

Buck had this whole night planned - minus is own spontaneous proposal - and had wanted Tommy to be the feeling pleasantly surprised and loved.. yet here he was himself being loved so fucking beautifully it was taking everything within him to not break apart right there.

“What’s-what’s in your ring?” He asked.

“Well, that was.. a little trickier. And full disclosure on my part - Maddie knows because I had to enlist her help.”

“Okay..”

“It’s kinda difficult to pick something when your boyfriend loves so many things,” he teased “and then Maddie.. she gave me a little silver bracelet that she was given as a kid and-“

Buck inhaled a breath when he realised what bracelet Tommy was referring to. Immediately his whole chin began to quiver and tears fell from his eyes.

“The one that Daniel gave to her.”

“Yeah.” Tommy said softly. “She told me how he’d seen it one day when he was with your grandparents when he was 6 or something and insisted he give to her for her birthday.” Buck nodded, not being able to find words. “She said that this would be something that would be special to you because you never got to know him. Is-is that okay?”

Buck looked from the ring back to up Tommy; eyes completely blurred from tears pouring out of him.

“I.. this..” He could always find peace in Tommy eyes but this was all so.. it was overwhelming and.. he took a deep breath to try and calm himself.

“Tommy, this whole night was-was supposed to be about you.. a-and showing you just how much to mean to me and then..” he blew out another breath trying to center himself “and then here you are with the most beautiful fucking gesture, I.. I can’t..” The tears flowed once again and this time he threw his arms around Tommys neck and held on tight. Tommy, as he always did, reciprocated and held him tightly back.

“I love you so fucking much.” He cried into Tommys neck. Tommys own tears were flowing too, now.

“God I love you, too, Evan. More than I could ever even show you.”

“I don’t know-“ Buck pulled back with a laugh “I think you hit it out of the ball park with this one.” He gently thumbed Tommys tears from his cheeks. He looked closer at the rings.

“Are there inscriptions?”

“Only on yours.” Tommy replied, sniffing.

“For my Evan. Always.” Buck read out loud. Tommy wiped away Bucks next tears that came. They were the only type of tears he ever wanted to illicit from his Evan.

“I thought you would what to decide what to inscribe on my ring. Can I put it on you now?” Tommy asked.

“Uh, technically I should be putting on you because I asked first. Actually, you haven’t actually said yes by the way..”

Tommy reached up an gently placed back an errant curl that had fallen onto Bucks forehead and looked at him with those big earnest eyes again.

“Yes.”

Buck took the ring out of the box and slid it onto Tommy finger, then Tommy did the same with Bucks ring.

Buck gripped the lapels of Tommys tux and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed into it. It wasn’t a kiss that they’d shared before; this one was full of promise, of hope, a future - the rest of their lives as husbands.

Tommy pulled back for a second “By the way, I did promise Maddie that the second we became engaged that we would face time her. Where’s your phone?”

“She can wait a little bit.” Buck replied aiming his lips at Tommys neck.

“You sure? She might be mad.” Buck lifted up and looked Tommy in the eyes.

“Tommy, there’s only one thing I want to do right now and it absolutely does not involve my sister.”

“She can wait a little bit.” Tommy repeated wrapping his arms around his Evans neck and pulling him in for another deep kiss.

#tommy kinard #911 abc #bucktommy #911 #911onabc #buck x tommy #911 buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #bucktommyfic #tevan fic #bucktommy fic #bucktommy prompts #911 prompts #cvo prompts

188 notes · View notes

serendipitous-girl · 2 months ago

Text

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: getting a curse that makes you horny is not how you expected your day to turn out....espeically when if means your friends have to help you deal with your situation

⊱✿⊰ warnings: straight up smut, pơrn w plot, aphrodisiacs, this could sort of be considered dub-con but i still believe it is consensual, also this is written by a minor so if u don't want that u can leave, don't report jst block chat, nobara teaching the boys abt girls bodies, simp boys, unprotected sex (be careful irl pls 🙏)

⊱✿⊰ notes: i went from writing slightly suggestive to a freaking foursome but im slay for it okay. i apologize if this sucks i do not know how to write sexual stuff but i had this dream and it was FIRE. Also i have seen like five episodes of this show so try not to give spoilers and i apologize if this is not how curses work 😭 if adults interact imma be weirded out bc these characters r my age 🤨

if you know me (other than skye) don't talk to me abt this unless ur happy im shy enough as it is 💀

you hadn't realized you had even been affected by the curse that hit you earlier until you were on the way to the academy. it was a strange sort of descent to suddenly have your skin feverishly warm and a white hot need coiling deep in your gut. you were practically shaking by the time you reached jujustu high.

you stumbled towards your dorm, ignoring the way any sort of friction against your core made you want to whimper like a cat in heat. your underwear was well on the way of being utterly soaked and your foggy brain couldn't even bother to care.

"you okay, [name]?" yuji asked, his sturdy hand wrapping around your waist when your knees started to buckle. you bit your tongue hard enough to draw small drops of blood to prevent the needy sigh from escaping your lips. he was so strong and he was so sweet, his gentle smile making you wish it was between your thighs.

"i'm fine...just exhausted." you managed to grit out, unable to disguise the thick strain on your voice. maybe you were going insane, because why else would you be feeling this...horny?

"i'd wager you're more than exhausted." megumi piped in, his intense stare sending electricity straight to your core. he walked forward, with nobara not far behind, his mouth in a set line. he continued, "you are being affected by an aphrodisiac inflicted by an incubus."

nobara gave you a sneaky smile coming closer and sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you against your body. you couldn't help the whimper that you released when you felt her warm breath against your cheek.

"you horny, baby?" she purred, making your jaw drop slightly. oh, so she knows. you looked at her shyly, give her a little nod.

"that's what an aphro whatever does?" yuji asked, his chest still firmly pressed into your back. megumi nodded, his eyes darting between how you're sandwiched between nobara and yuji.

"h-how do i make it go away?" you piped up, internally cursing at the tone of your voice. it was thick with need, heavy with lust. maybe you should google how to bury oneself alive? that would be better than this embarrassing situation.

"you need to orgasm, at the very least once. but it will probably require quite a few tries." megumi explained, calmly as if he wasn't talking about his classmate cumming. before you knew it, you were sitting on megumi's bed. nobara and yuji must have led you to his room while he was talking.

"your arms are almost like jelly, honey." nobara noted, picking up your limp arm before letting it drop to your side, "why don't you let us take care of this for you?"

this time megumi, yuji, and you all paused. even through the gnawing desire to be railed you were still surprised at the suggestion. yuji's jaw dropped and megumi blushed, both of their reactions endearing if you were in a better state of mind.

"i have heard far too much about how both of these losers want to fuck you but are too wimpy to do anything. and i wouldn't mind making my girl feel good." nobara sat on the bed beside you and let her hands drift down your thighs. you shivered, parting them almost instinctively.

megumi shot nobara a glare like he was pissed his secret had been revealed and yuji gave you a sheepish smile. both boths came closer until everybody was sitting on the bed.

"you should still be in good conscious to consent." megumi said, his eyes burning into the spot where your legs were spread ever so slightly. your skirt was rising slightly, more of your skin revealed. "do you feel comfortable with this, [name]?"

suddenly you felt all pairs of eyes on you, making arousal seep into your underwear and rendering them positively destroyed. even with your body weak and full of animalistic need, you still had a mostly coherent thought process.

"please, yes please." you stuttered out, looking down at your lap with a shy expression.

nobara grinned deviously at your consent before pulling you onto her lap, pressing your back into her chest. she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck and her hands drifting down your body.

"just relax, we're gonna make you feel real good." she said spreading your legs and lifting up your skirt to show off your underwear. normally you would be embarrassed that megumi and yuji were kneeling in front of you and staring directly at your cloth covered pussy. but you were far too gone to comprehend a single thing.

your underwear was fully soaked, a massive wet spot on them and the smell of your arousal wafting through the air. nobara kept kissing your neck, nibbling at the supple skin as her nimble fingers hooked around the waistband and slipped your underwear off.

your cunt was weeping for attention, puffy folds and twitching clit. your arousal was dripping down your legs, onto megumi's sheets. although he seemed too enthralled with your aching hole to care about the mess you were making.

a sharp gasp escaped your lips when nobara's fingers met your clit, rubbing it gently and in circular motions. as though their eyes had an invisible touch, the intense focus of both megumi and yuji added extra stimulation to your body.

"see this? this is like the key to the treasure chest." nobara said, still steadily rubbing that little bundle of nerves. you wiggled in her lap, trying to stop the embarrassing whimpers from escaping.

"does that feel good, [name]?" yuji asked, his hand suddenly reaching out to grab your thigh and keep you from wriggling out of nobara's hold. his touch was gentle but fuck was he strong.

you nodded and let out a little moan as nobara fingers slipped to your slit, collecting the wetness before teasing your hole. it eagerly tried to suck her digits in, aching to be filled.

"needy, are we?" megumi noted, the goregous rumble of his voice sending vibrations straight to your cunt. it clenched around nothing, showing off your horniness to your entire friend group. dear lord you were about to be fucked by all your friends.

finally nobara sunk her slender fingers in your cunt, the pads of her digits massaging the gummy walls. your toes curled and your back arched, a sigh of pleasure and relief filling the air like a lustful breeze. she grinned against your neck, going back to kissing you as she dipped her fingers in and out.

your pussy shamlessly gushed as she did this, loud enough you were sure the entire world could hear how well you were being fingered. not to mention the pretty little gasps and sighs that slipped between your parted lips.

"fuck," yuji grunted and your eyes fell from staring at the ceiling to him. his hand was cupping his massive bulge through his pants, his brown eyes blown out wide with lust. megumi wasn't fairing much better with a bright red face and parted lips he kept wetting.

"c'mon pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?" nobara purred, her free hand drifting from your waist to slipping under your shirt. she found your tits beneath your shirt and bra, rolling your hardened nipple between two of her digits.

your body suddenly tensed, walls clenching around her slender fingers as they curled right at the spongey point of pleasure. your cunt practically sucked her fingers in as it gushed around them. your jaw slightly dropped as your long wanton moan filled the room like a symphony of your pleasure.

"good girl." nobara praised while megumi and yuji stared at you with wide eyes. with a sudden shyness, you realized you might have been the first girl to have cum in front of them.

even with the orgasm you still felt that burn in your core and slick dripping down your thighs, like the needy whore you were. your mind was fuzzy with lust, pussy aching to be filled yet again.

"megumi, how about you fuck our princess?" nobara suggested, still rolling your senstive nub between her fingers as though to appease you while you waited, "and yuji, fill her mouth so she can't be too loud, yeah?"

the two boys agreed and suddenly you were being placed flat on the bed. your uniform was being stripped off by all three hands, leaving you naked and vulnerable soon.

megumi lifted your legs and spread them a bit more, you whining as the cool air brushed against your leaking cunt. he groaned softly, his raging hard on rubbed against your thigh.

he unzipped his pants enough for his cock to spring out, a pretty pink color with precum leaking out of the reddish tip. then he fixed your position, stroking his dick and rubbing the tip aganist your weeping slit. you whimpered, wriggling your hips like it would make it magically slip inside..

"shit," megumi hissed as he finally sunk his length into your pussy. you whined loudly as he finally filled you up, your back arching in attempts to get him deeper.

suddenly your eyes snapped upwards when you felt yuji's cockhead pressing into your lips. eagerly you parted them, tongue sticking out to lick the precum oozing out. yuji let out a soft sigh as you finally let him in, tongue exploring the large mass inside your mouth.

nobara wasn't feeling excluded at all it seemed, with the way her hands wandered to play with your tits. she smirked, watching the erotic scene unfold in front of her.

you felt almost like a ragdoll, getting fucked on both sides. megumi's thrusts were long and teasing, sliding almost all the way out before slamming all the way in again. whereas yuji was erratic and passionate, carelessly fucking your throat.

it was possibly the hottest and strangest situation you have ever found yourself in.

your moans were muffled by yuji's cock, mixed in with the soft gags of being filled up so entirely. everything felt so lewd, squelching of your cunt being hammered into by megumi and the slurps of you intently sucking yuji off.

nobara wasn't too upset about not getting "her turn" yet especially since she would prefer to have you get her off when it's just the two of you. she was patient...for now.

suddenly yuji stilled, then he kept thrusting into your mouth with jerky movements. "fuck! I'm gonna-"

a white hot liquid squirted into your mouth. It was salty and a little bitter but not terrible tasting. you swallowed up the pink haired boy's cum, some of it dribbling down your chin. once he was done he slowly pulled out, his cock softening slowly. yuji looked at you with wide eyes, almost like you showed him jennifer laurence not sucked him off

you squeaked suddenly, returning your attention to megumi who pinched your clit. he pouted at you, as though a little annoyed yuji had held your attention for so long.

you gave him a breathless smile in-between the sighs of pleasure at his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. you didn't even know something could be that deep inside of you and yet here he was, turning your tummy inside out with his dick.

"i want you to cum at the same time as me. can you do that for me, princess?" megumi said, speeding up his sensual pace. his hips snapped up to meet yours quicker now, his nimble fingers rolling and rubbing your sensitive nub in all the ways that made you certain you would explode.

with a final flick to your clit, you moaned his name and your walls squeezed around his cock. as thought triggered by your orgasm you felt his warm seed spurting inside your core, filling you up. he fucked you both through your highs, keeping his creamy cum inside your pussy.

a small whine fell from your sore throat at the empty feeling where megumi's dick used to be. however you felt that almost agonizing burn started to fade, satisfied by what you had been giving.

"aw baby." nobara cooed, gently petting the top of your unruly hair, "let us clean you up. you must be so tired from all that, yeah?"

you nodded slowly, allowing the boys to distangle from your body and allow nobara instruct them on how to clean you properly. you only started to drift off when you felt the trio cuddle around you, with nobara laying on your tummy, megumi spooning you from behind and yuji in the front. the warmth of your friends (with benefits?) coaxed your exhausted body to sleep.

hopefully you wouldn't have to ever think about the consequences of this....or at least until morning.

#❀ lori writes #❀ lori smut #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jjk nobara #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu kaisen nobara

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ch-4-eri · 2 months ago

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Hi, I hope you had a good day

Can you write DI Jill x reader smut (age gap plz) that would contain SCISSORING (I'm tired of strapons I love pussies)

(Death island Jill is my favorite if she wont be in my bed on 14th February im gonna quit it)

Love your work!

I LOVE THIS REQUEST THANK YOU SOO MUCH!!

Jill X fem! Reader.

Warnings: mentions of trauma, slight angst, sad Jill, post death island Jill, scissoring, cursing. Smut, porn with plot, vanilla sex lowkey, Jill is much much older and reader is of legal age.

Word count: 1.7k

Guys I can fix her, I swear.

Your mom’s best friend had an almost near death experience at her job, which is almost every mission.

Jill Valentine has been your mom’s best friend for at least a good decade now, they both met at a support group and the friendship took off, surely a trauma bond lasts a lifetime.

As you both picked up the woman from the airport as she decided to unwind and forget about the horrible island she was talking about, in so little detail— knowing Jill for that long, she’s a woman of mystery, doesn’t say much but does say enough for you to grasp the full picture that lacks detail.

You were in the backseat as your mom drove— Jill staring outside the window with her beat up clothes, you’ve no idea if she liked ripped clothes or she’s just too busy to buy new clothes— either way, she was perfect, she smells nice and takes good care of herself, her almost greying hair perfectly trimmed and tucked behind her ear, she cuts her hair like a mother— not that she has kids, or even wants any.. which is fair.

Your eyes were taking in every detail about her, the way she was sitting, her hands calloused and placed atop her thighs as your mother was making conversation, dragging words out of her… barely so.

She turned to look at your mother which caused you to catch a glimpse at her nose, her blue eyes shining as the aging lines around her eyes were more prominent than last time you’ve seen, and before her visit to that island.

Jill felt eyes on her as she caught you staring, turning those to the backseat, giving you a half assed smile adults give to children and looking away, surely you’re no kid— but to Jill? It kind of doesn’t matter.

Deep down you’d take any kind of attention from her.

You always kicked yourself for thinking of that woman that way, Jill seems like the untouchable kind of woman— anyone’s lucky to even talk to her. you’ve no idea why she gives off that sort of energy… maybe because your mother is her only persistent friend outside of her job ones, and even so she barely talks, you’re curious, you wanna know more, and it grows to an attraction or even an obsession on your behalf.

Each time your mother brings her up, you’re tense, the hair on the back of your neck stands and your heart races, not even in fear, Jill was never threatening around you or your mother despite the training and whatever she’s capable of, and you know exactly what she can get away with.

But she’s a good person, and a good friend, and your mother loves her… so do you, except it’s a different kind of love, or maybe lust, a mere curiosity about the woman with decent intentions and morals, seeing it in her eyes as your mother insults a bad driver on the road and Jill just shushes her, she’s perfect, looks innocent even.

And you know she’s not, not even close.

You tossed and turned next to your mother in bed that night as you gave your room to Jill so she can rest on a bed instead of sleeping on the floor or the couch like she usually argues to do so.

And the thought of her sleeping on your bed is driving you crazy, your bed will smell like her, have her fucking perfect face on your pillows.

The overwhelming feeling made you sit up, not even in the mood to sleep at this point as your mind circled around the same thing, you wanted her.

To talk? Let her open up to you? Oh god she’s asleep on your bed.

And it’s like your legs had a mind of their own, you slowly got out of your mom’s bedroom, and closed the door— letting out a breath so heavy you felt your lungs shake.

Your room was right there, the door closed as Jill was right behind it, on your damned bed.

Your shaky hand was placed on the doorknob as you twisted the handle, allowing yourself to be creepy just this once as the desperation was eating you alive, making you feel smaller.

What if she gets mad? You never saw Jill angry, she’s incapable of being disrespectful like that, she’s too perfect, no matter how much she argues she isn’t.

You saw her awake and staring up at the ceiling, her gaze falling on you, and again; Jill would never be angry with you.

“Hi, sorry.. I just wanted something.” You lied, closing the door behind you.

“No worries.” Jill spoke up, the sound of her voice sending chills down your spine, you needed a fucking grip. “You alright?” You ask, not caring about the act of needing something from your bedroom at this point, what you wanted was her, to talk— to fuck— god anything.

“Just thinking.” Jill responds after a moment of silence, knowing she’s trying not to open up like usual, maintaining her secrets but still keeping a firm honesty— no matter how much it lacked, but you were so done with that, you wanted her to talk, say more, cry it out, anything.

You sat on the edge of the bed and faced her and she looked even more beautiful like this, wearing a gray tank top that barely covers anything, your eyes trying their hardest not to slip up, keeping them on hers instead.

“You can talk to me, you know?” You start, maybe just maybe this would get her to talk, it’s late and Jill looked vulnerable, worn out even. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Goddamn it, it was too close.

“Why not?” You found yourself arguing, were you that desperate? Perhaps, you absolutely were. Jill raised an eyebrow at your persistence, straightening back as she tilted her head. “Because, I don’t want to.” Jill replied, her tone firm like she needs you to stop arguing back if that’s what you were trying to do.

You gulped, you wanted to argue, wanted to tell her off, wanted to let her know she’s got you, that you were right here; anything.

“You should go to bed.” Jill ordered, her tone as firm as a moment ago, making you narrow your eyes in challenge.

“I don’t wanna go to bed, I know you wanna talk and I’m not leaving until you do.” You said, not sure what the hell’s gotten into you, and now Jill was starting to look pissed, a sight you haven’t seen before, maybe part of you was relieved you provoked her, maybe she’d say something, do anything.

She doesn’t say anything for now, you know she’s thinking something over in that head of hers, wishing you had a clue what the fuck it was. “Come here.” Jill gestured at you to come closer. Her fingers pointing at the bed, opening the blanket, her long legs exposed to your hungry eyes as you gulped.

“I said come here.” Jill repeats, her voice louder now, like she’s holding back yelling at you in the middle of the night. You obliged, unsure how you did so— all you could think about were her legs.

You came closer to her, crawling on the bed in front of her, watching the way her eyes studied you, her lips parted with anticipation as she grabbed your waist and brought you closer forcefully, feeling how strong her grip was, making you bite on your lip.

“Why are you suddenly so curious about it?” Jill asked, her fingers splaying themselves on your hip, keeping you close in such a strong grip and that’s just one hand.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Jill whispered, her other hand coming up to part your knees for her, gripping your thigh as she picked you up and brought you into her lap, like you weigh nothing. “That I’m so fucking tired; I’m so fucking sick of everything?” She whispered into your ear, her tone strained like she’s holding back the tears and the despair she’s felt for so so long.

“What do you want to hear?” Jill asked, her voice choked with tears. She wanted to cry but she refused to, her leg moving around your hip. Bringing you closer, her mouth placed near your neck. “I want you talk to me about it, maybe I could help—“

“You can’t help me, doll.” Jill whispered, her breathing fanning your neck, her hands placed on your waist. “Nobody could.” She adds, positioning your middle on top of hers. Her hips slowly moving against yours, desperate for any kind of friction. “Jill—“ you gasped, catching a hold of her shoulders as you were both bumping against each other.

“Please doll just let me do this.” Jill begged, her hands gripping your hips hard as her clothed pussy was sliding up into yours, the fabric so wet as it bumped against her clit and made her bite into her lip, trying not to scream at the pent up feelings and frustrations, your eyes were glued to her pussy, you wanted a taste, to feel her throb in your mouth, your pussy cumming at the friction as Jill moaned, her hands moving your hips with her full strength with both your panties soaked, Jill’s fingers moved in between you two and rubbed at both your clits, her breathing strained as she lifts her fingers up and shoves them into your mouth.

Seeking pleasure from the way you suck on her fingers, her other hand bringing your lower back closer as she chased her high, you had no idea your legs could do that, it was not a common position but it felt fucking amazing with your mouth full of Jill’s fingers and her pretty pussy fucking into your own, “come on— cum inside of me baby.” She urged, bringing your hip closer, pushing your pussy into hers. “Need you to cum inside of me.” Jill pants, too focused on her pretty eyes, mesmerised by her entire being, your noises were soft whimpers and whines as she got wetter at the sound of them.

“Jill—“ you called her name, your muscles spasming as you let out a choked gasp, your cum mixing with Jill’s as you both orgasmed at the same time, your foreheads pressed together and you both panted at the feeling, holding Jill’s shoulders while hers held your hips.

“I better not hear you ask anything else about me,” Jill requests, lifting your hips to get you off of her.

“You know enough doll, now trust me and get some sleep.” She says, slipping out of bed to get you cleaned up before you’d sleep. Leaving you dumbfounded and flustered.

#jill valentine #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x female reader #Jill valentine angst

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salpho · 5 months ago

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TO CONTINUE

Something I noticed is a lot of people who hated BATIM love BATDR and a lot of people fond of BATIM dislike BATDR. To me, this seems like a mechanics vs story issue. The actual game mechanics and aesthetic of BATDR disguise the lackluster characters and plot holes. However, BATIM still suffers those same issues.

This is a vague question, but what are your thoughts on BATIM vs BATDR story wise? Is either of them truly better? Or are they just flawed in different ways?

Sorry, this is long, but so are BATIM and BATDR :')

I think you hit the nail on the head in the sense that yes- BATDR has better gameplay and mechanics than BATIM, but BATIM by far has a much more compelling story that was able to capture and keep attention over the course of five chapter releases. And yes, BATIM is not without its flaws, for example it's mainly a walking simulator in terms of actual gameplay- the only thing saving it being the unique ability to suck the player in through the rich, stylistic environments.

In terms of story, here's my take for both of them-

BATIM is more solid overall, there are more connected plot points and there's a thread there to be followed from start to finish. It does suffer from some WTF plothole moments, the biggest one being Alice's 180 degree turn with suddenly using Boris as a killing machine rather than...what I can only assume was a plan to use his ink/body as some kind of reparative agent for the hole in her face (like thicc ink premium idk), or...some kind of spell...? It's honestly not very clear HOW she was going to use him, but bottom line she decided to entirely change her plan off-screen, which could have been remedied with something like a cutscene's worth of explanation, and more of a buildup to Brute Boris. The "reveal" in the haunted house didn't hold that much weight (at least to me,) just because we didn't even get a cookie crumb of a hint that Alice was going to mutilate him and use him as a drone instead of just axe him.

There are other nonsense details like Allison's ominous "I'm no Angel" line, which didn't make sense when Tom was the one to want to leave Henry. It was never explained WHY the Ink Demon walks around with a limp when he can shapeshift into a bigger and faster Beast version of himself (and apparently he was ALSO the hand in the ink river??? I guess???) And can we talk about how the cult Joey started was just never brought up again? Wally talks about how workers were encouraged (or mandated, idk) to put offerings in the break room to "appease the gods." What gods? Was Joey worshiping Bendy like a god? NONE OF THIS IS EXPLAINED EVER and honestly I think Micheal D. and Meatstick just Forgot that Joey was a cult leader in favor of Sammy's cult storyline.

But despite all of the plot holes, we still get a tale of a deteriorating studio, humans being used as literal skeletons for lifelike versions of cartoon characters, themes of life, death, cults, art, and more. Honestly, going deep into the plot of Bendy would take its own post to really do it justice.

I guess the main plot is this: Ex-co-founder of Joey Drew Studios, Henry, is trying to get the fuck home to his wife, learning along the way that through the power of a mysterious ink machine, his ex-business partner decided to coerce and persuade people to Literally Die so he could have the necessary materials to create living versions of his cartoons, thus making "his" characters (and more importantly, Bendy,) a reality. Once Henry does escape, he learns that Joey has sent him through this same hell before, still filled with hatred and spite, just in time for Joey to assumedly "reset" him and send him on a different version of the same journey, as we can guess from the storyboards on display in Joey's apartment. THAT on its own is an intriguing and layered tale, and that's not even including the other details, voices, and faces we run into in BATIM, AND the new info we learn in BATDR.

Now, BATDR...is something I've come to view as a mixed bag.

Story-wise, it weirdly wants to have its cake and eat it to. Henry's story is elaborated on, and part of Audrey's origins are also brought to light. This is helpful information concerning the plot of BATIM...but then we get assblasted with a ton of new characters and lore for a completely new Cycle under the reign of a completely new Random Old Man. I know he's Nathan's son, and he was mentioned in both Illusion and Fade to Black...but those were de-canonized, so it almost doesn't help context-wise...???? So...????

In a lot of ways, BATDR almost acts like it wants to be an AU branching from BATIM rather than a direct sequel, which it was marketed/confirmed as.

I think my biggest problem with BATDR is that some of the main characters are bafflingly like. Mishandled.

I'm gonna have the mildest take on earth and say I didn't like the new Ink Demon. Old design was better and more uncanny by far, the new design looks like Generic Satan or something straight out of Baldur's Gate. He was given a deep, guttural growling voice because....tumblr sexyman I guess. Even if they needed him to talk, it could've been something more breathy and raspy, true to the heavy breathing of the original Ink Demon. Also, his alternate form was made very childlike, and I'm just weirded out by the fact that you have this oddly "sexified" version of the Ink Demon on the flipside of Bendy the Child. I don't think any ill intent was meant by this, but it's more confusing than anything thematically. I'm also not sure why Bendy's abuse was brought up and then never touched on....? Like wasn't this guy locked up and called a monster his whole life? Are we going to...say something especially considering the moral of this story......?

Memory Joey is completely fine, but I just can't shake the feeling that the narrative is trying to paint IRL Joey as "UWU fixed now" when that's not the case. The most sympathy I can extend to IRL Joey is that he was a gay man who desired to have a family at a time when that was not only frowned upon but dangerous, not just socially speaking but in terms of his physical safety. But beyond that, this was a dude who locked people in a building to keep them working, coerced and possibly forced the deaths of many people to get what he wanted (the ink machine was a scientific advancement that could've had AMAZING implications for society but he Did Not Give a Shit about that), and was abusive towards Henry. If we trust the Bendy books, he also gaslit and killed his teenage staff. This motherfucker isn't a patron saint of anything, and even if Memory Joey can learn from IRL Joey's mistakes, IRL Joey was still a shitbag who just happened to raise a daughter.

Which leads me to Audrey. Some of Audrey's tale is explained- she was raised by Joey, forgot Joey was her father, and came to work at Archgate as an animator. Got to know Wilson, who works as a janitor at Archgate, and then he drags her into ink hell because....idk, she's his version of "A Perfect Boris" I guess. Fair enough. However, it's NEVER EXPLAINED how Audrey doesn't remember her father, or WHERE she went to live after his passing, or WHO she lived with. Remember, Joey was as old as a cave painting, so he clearly passed when she was very young. While you could argue she doesn't remember his name because she was little, SURELY she remembers his face or voice, or the fact that she HAD A FATHER??? Like, was there some huge trauma there? (Other than the fact that Joey was her dad?) It makes little sense to me that she would forget so easily. If I had to make a guess (and granted I'm no Mark Twain), I'd wager that Allison probably found Joey dead. Remember that Nathan hadn't talked to Joey in years, and Allison was the one who went out of her way in the first place to visit. At this point, Allison's gonna find a little girl running around by herself, and assumedly her and Thomas would've taken her in. If that's not the case, someone else found Joey dead, at which point Audrey would've possibly lived with Nathan and Tessa, considering how much Nathan cared about Joey. Either party has ties to Archgate. But all of that is just speculation, not confirmed, and even if any of that were true, Audrey makes no mention of it. And I'm sorry, Audrey's backstory makes me want to cry, because it's just NOT THERE and she has the personality of a depressed bucket.

Alice was alright...but she was kind of stupid? Which is like....the antithesis of everything cool about her? Instead of using traps and luring the main character from a distance, she knocks out Audrey (via unspecified drink), plays Diet Jigsaw with Audrey, and then gets pushed off a balcony. She was also a lot more...idk, suave and sultry in speech mannerisms in BATDR, which isn't bad, but her unhinged and clever nature seemed a bit watered down.

I don't really have notes on the rest of the main cast. Sammy was brought back to die immediately, which honestly was fine considering his death track record. We get some mentions of BATIM characters. Wilson and Betty were fine, and even some of the lore explaining how the timelines work made sense.

HOWEVER,

I've already said it a hundred times, but the old cast was shoved to the side for a bunch of new characters we had no time to connect with. A new butcher gang member was added when we still have Miss Twisted as a potential female-role filler (keep in mind the Projectionist is based on Camera Man and Brute Boris was based on The Brute.) The whole "Amok" thing was a REALLY roundabout way to get the Lost Ones to stop attacking Audrey.

Wilson's motivations are mostly consistent and I'd argue somewhat compelling, but I don't understand why he didn't do more to protect Audrey if he was going to need her for the endgame for Shipahoy Dudley? Like what's all this about letting her run around and get killed? Was he just aware that she'd revive?

The main message of BATDR was fine, but it didn't work super well for Audrey's character. She'd already forgotten Joey was her father, and was living in blissful ignorance of that fact until Memory Joey decided to infodump on her right away. Sure, the "just because you were born of darkness doesn't mean you have to be darkness" thing applies to her AFTER she learns Joey was her father, but...Audrey was never threatening to Become Evil, so it almost didn't need to be said and was kind of a flat message...? I would argue Memory Joey would benefit more from that message- as he's a literal copy of a Very Bad Dude. My guy was projecting this whole time.

I do think BATDR was worse story-wise, but I'm not going to sit here and pretend it didn't have certain disadvantages from the start. The Kindlybeast debacle happened, BADTR was trying to continue a story from an existing property, and there was a severe lack of Adrienne Kress. Okay, maybe the last one was a bit much, but still. That doesn't mean I hate BATDR overall, I can appreciate a lot of things about it, but strictly in the story department, it needs soooooo much work and makes me want to jump off a Minecraft cliff.

#AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE TOON.#the toon form feels so... strange ? like he feels forced because of fanon toon being real and made of ink often too yknow #and the fact he's practically taken over who bendy is ? is really off for me. like this is a branding thing but god #its like they replaced the actual toon with the cycle version almost. kinda like what they did with the ink demon design #but i digress #batdr's toon form being presented as childish is so off for me too because while yes bendy in the toons was childish #it... it doesnt mean he Is a kid yknow #it isnt stated per se if he is one or not. but like #even if the comics count as noncanon novels. hes very clearly an adult. he holds a martini glass owns a home drives a car #yknow #and. and yeah his traumas are Not explored enough. i guess we get the projection onto audrey of raahhh youre bad like i am but otherwise #joey's memory also. i really do believe and enjoy his story. but i wish they made more of a seperation between the two. like #memory shouldve shown remorse for his original self's past. maybe shown and said to want to be better #maybe fix joey's mistakes too a bit !! have him talk about what hes done to help undo some of his damage or whatever. wouldve been great #characterisation. he is still a seperate person after all even if he is an extension of joey in some strange way #and finally. the character issues. oh lord. i wish so badly they used old characters. it was awfully strange seeing porter be advertised and #he has like... what. 5 or so minutes of screentime ? i feel like EVERY character was underutilised #they shouldve stuck to one or two for each department or company. developed ones preferably. have actual arcs in the audio logs like in bati #m. couldve saved a Lot of the story #i love these games dont get me wrong. i just wish they did them justice !! im yet to rewrite the stories out of love and i really am excited #to see what the future holds. i want to see this franchise and company learn from past errors and become the best version of themselves #thanks for reading if anyone did pffh. i love this game series so much and i love critiques that show it. my own or other's #Nope !! !

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