#can you tell this is for frankenstein yet? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months ago

Text

Daisies and Haircuts

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Usually, Logan can get a read on everybody. Except, when it comes to you, he can't. So he makes it his mission to find out the truth, but when he does...he doesn't exactly know how to take the news.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff with a bit of angst, some steam towards the end. Descriptions of blood, casualties and aftermath of a tornado. Not Proof Read.

If there was one thing Logan prided himself on, it was being able to tell when people were lying or telling the truth.

However, from the minute he met you…he didn’t have an explanation for it.

Most of the time, he could hear people’s heartbeats or their breathing. Both would quicken when they were lying. Even the best liars couldn’t hide from him.

But there was something about you he just couldn’t shake. Your voice didn’t change or shake, your heartbeat didn’t speed or falter - neither did your breathing.

And yet he didn’t believe a word you said when it came to you being human.

Professor Xavier had reached out to you to fill in one of the teaching positions when he met your cousin. And from his knowledge, your entire family was mutant. From grandmother, to grandfather, to cousins, to even siblings.

And somehow, you were the only human.

No mutant gene detected.

And even if his school did have a reputation for having mutant teachers, you were the first human to attend the school in any manner.

“Logan, if you’re gonna just stand there all day, you might as well offer to help.”

Your back was completely turned to him. You had been writing on the whiteboard for the last five minutes, not once looking anywhere near the door where he was leaning.

“How did you know it was me?”

You chuckled a little as he walked inside, picking up a pile of books on the way in. “Please, I could smell the cigar smoke.”

Logan shrugged, placing two books at the end of each desk as he made his way to you. “You know, I can scare Storm, Jean- even Scott. But never you. I wonder why that is?”

Logan stood beside you as you turned. He was looking at you like how he always did. A knowing smile (maybe it was a smirk), but a look of wonder and curiosity in his eyes.

You just smiled up at him. “Logan, I grew up with over twelve cousins. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t have to have eyes in the back of your head, and still at least one kid ended up hurting themselves.”

Walking around him and back to your desk, his eyes followed you.

“That’s not the only thing.”

“What ‘thing’ exactly?”

Sometimes it felt like this conversation between you and Logan happened every other day. You had been working at the school for a little over a year, and before that had shadowed for at least six months to understand how to truly help your kids.

He had been like this since day one.

Maybe a little more gruffer and scarier in the beginning…he had made you jump just a little when you closed the fridge door and found him standing there with that sceptical, over-protective look on his face.

“You know what ‘thing’.”

You shook your head. “I really don’t, Logan.”

He walked closer to your desk and leaned his hands against it, coming face to face with you. “You’re a mutant.”

As he was so close, your eyes scanned his face and around his body. “You need a haircut.”

“It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I can cut it for you. Just take a little bit off the sides.”

“Why do you keep avoiding the subject?” Logan asked with a laughing smile as he stood back up.

“Because you seriously need a haircut, Logan.” You moved your fingers through the top of his hair. “You look like a crazed mountain man who’s just escaped from Frankenstien’s lab.”

Logan stepped away from you during your analogy. “Are you calling me a green monster?”

“Frankenstein is the Doctor.”

“Huh.”

You shook your head. “Either way, you need a haircut.”

“Fine, but I will get it out of you sooner or later.”

“Goodbye, Logan.”

Those were Logan’s final words before he left your classroom, but not before taking a final look at you as your head was turned.

The next time he saw you was just before lunch when a couple of kids were playing a round of football outside. And for a while, Logan’s eyes remained on you as you read your book. It was like the world didn’t exist outside of your book.

And yet you were tuned in to everything that was happening.

Logan heard one of the kids shout before the ball went flying past the posts and it was heading straight for you. He could barely finish shouting your name before…

You caught it.

Without looking up, you had caught the ball in your hands, simply looked up and then threw it back. “Be careful!”

“Sorry!”

Logan was a little in shock as he stood at the top of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. He’d seen your reflexes a few times before. You had caught plenty of mugs that were about to fall off the side of the counter, just as you walked into the room. You’d also stopped piles of books crashing loudly to the ground, opened windows just as tennis balls came flying at them, as well as catching them and throwing them back.

And now you had caught a football without even looking up.

You hadn’t been at the school two years and yet Logan practically had a list tallied in his head of the things that had happened that simply couldn’t just be explained away.

Could they?

“Oh, come on. Just admit it. You’re a mutant.”

Your lungs were tired of sighing. “Logan. I’m not a mutant.”

“Your entire family has the mutant gene.”

“So,” you shrugged, twisting some pepper into the pot before replacing the cap and setting it on the side. “It skipped me.”

“Your reflexes are barely human.”

“Logan, like I have told you a million times, I grew up around a lot of kids. A lot of mutant kids who had no control over their powers. I had to get good reflexes just to save on the amount we spend on broken windows.”

Logan moved out of your way as you walked across the kitchen, taking a couple of things from the fridge.

“You never get scared.”

You looked back at him. “Are you calling me brave?”

“Nobody can scare you, Y/n. Last Halloween it was like you knew when someone was hiding around the corner.”

“It was Halloween. Everyone tries to scare each other on Halloween.”

Logan closed his eyes in frustration for a moment. “Not even Halloween. Nobody can scare you. Even today, you knew I was standing by your door.”

Stopping what you were doing, you looked at him. “Logan, when it comes to you, I can smell the cigar smoke a mile away. And, besides growing up in a household where it was normal to try and scare each other, nobody in this school is exactly going to be the next Prima Ballerina.”

Logan’s arm practically shot out. “That’s another thing! Your sense of smell.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is this about the cigar smoke? Are you becoming nose blind to it?”

“You smelt Scott’s burnt breakfast before the rest of us did. You knew when Rogue had changed her shampoo. You even knew Storm had planted some new flowers in the garden.”

You went to open your mouth but Logan cut you off.

“And don’t say you saw the flowers because you were with me that whole afternoon and didn’t see Storm until after dinner.”

You sighed. “It wasn’t because I saw the flowers. I was going to say I saw the dirt on her hands when she walked inside. Plus, I knew she was looking to plant more flowers in the garden beds.”

Logan leaned forward. “Did you have a conversation about it?”

“About the flowers?”

“Because I don’t remember her telling us when she was going to plant them because she wanted them to be a surprise.”

You shrugged. “The dirt still gave it away.”

Logan shook his head. “That’s another one right there. You know…how do you know what we’re all thinking? I know you’re not reading our minds because if you were, it would be like when the Professor or Jean does it. No…it’s something else.”

Logan was truly watching you. Studying you. Listening to your heartbeat. Listening to your breathing.

“I was a psych major. I studied my ass off and read up extra things in my time. It’s not so hard.” You explained to Logan. “Most of the time it’s just body language. And remembering the small things. They go a long way in getting to know who a person is.”

“I don’t think it’s just that. Maybe it’s part of it.” Logan sat up straight. “But that’s not your whole story.”

“Why are you so fixed on my story?”

Except, rather than explain, Logan gave you that smile again and walked towards the door. “You’re the psych major, you figure it out.”

“You still need a haircut!”

And like clockwork, Logan was watching you and then questioning you everyday. He’d done it since day one.

When would he finally realise you were telling him the truth?

A couple of weeks later, you found yourself inside the Professor’s office with Logan and a potential new student and their parents.

Only, it soon became clear that as much as their child was finally happy to be somewhere where they didn’t stick out like a sore thumb because of their powers, the parents couldn’t have been more uncomfortable.

“But what about…what about his mutant…problem?”

You felt your back become straighter as your feet carried you forward, only to feel a small tug from the bottom of your jumper where Logan’s hand was pulling you back to stand beside him.

“I can assure you, Harry’s mutation is not a problem.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the three teachers he had quit because of him. You know we can’t even walk down our street without parents judging us for letting their kids' favourite teachers walk out on them.”

Harry seemed to fall into himself. “I already said sorry. I didn’t mean for them to-”

“Harry, it’s quite alright. Sometimes people don’t fully understand what it means to teach a mutant like us. Luckily, we have some of the best teachers right here.”

The father looked at both you and Logan. “These are the best?”

“We have a full staff, however most are teaching right now. Harry, this is Professor Logan. He will be your new History teacher and this is Professor Y/n. She will be teaching you some English, but mostly Social Sciences. She is also our school councillor, so if you ever feel you wish to speak to someone, she is the most qualified for the job.”

Harry gave both you and Logan a small smile.

He moved into his dorm a week later and started classes almost immediately.

“Okay, fine. Let me ask you this then.”

Logan hadn’t left you alone all day, so you had finally put him to work. Carrying the pile of books you were pulling from the shelves as you rolled along on the ladder.

“Why give a human a job of school counsellor in a school filled with mutants?”

“Other than the fact I’m qualified for the job.”

Logan shrugged. “Isn’t it better to put someone into the job who understands what the kid is going through? Rather than just put a diagnosis to it?”

You turned round and he looked up to you. “It doesn’t matter if your human or mutant, everyone has gone through something at some point. Maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be able to walk through walls, or have metal grow out of my knuckles. But I do know what it’s like to feel like an outcast. To feel lost. To feel alone.”

Logan just listened as you slowly turned back and started pulling the desired books from the shelves, adding them to the pile in his arms.

“I might have gone to a normal school, but everyone knew my family was different. I was too mutant to fit in at school, but too human to fit in with my family. They love me, and I love them. But there were times when topics would come up and…I’d feel alone. Like because I wasn’t one of you, I wouldn’t get it. Eventually, everyone grew up and went on with their lives. Of course it wasn’t easy for them, but they still had each other. Even if every other ignorant asshole pushed them away, they still had each other. But some days it felt like…like I had no one.”

Logan just continued to listen.

“So, I get your point. What would a human know about being a mutant? But sometimes that’s not the question that needs to be asked.”

A moment of silence passed between you both before finally Logan spoke up. “The kids…they’re lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“And just so you know,” he added. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Looking down at him, you smiled. “I’m glad.”

Twenty minutes later, you were finished collecting books. Yet, just as Logan laid down the pile, half should have fallen onto the floor.

Except they didn’t.

Instead they glided off the top and landed in a semi-neat pile beside him with a soft thud. Logan turned around, shock clear on his face. But you weren’t looking at him, or at the pile. You were closing the doors to the outside balcony on the opposite end of the room.

“One day,” Logan told himself. “One day.”

“What?”

Logan looked up. “Nothing.”

You just shrugged and walked to stand beside him. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Without looking at him, you flip over the cover of a book in your hands. “You still need a haircut by the way.”

“Don’t mention that, either.”

Two weeks later, as you and Logan were eating lunch together whilst marking some papers, there was a knock at your classroom door.

Taking a bite of the chicken salad you had made him a bowl of, Logan flipped a paper round and handed it to you. “What does that say? I swear this kid just writes in scribbles.”

You took the page from him. “This is Rogue’s. Isn’t she your little sister or something? Shouldn’t you be fluent in this by now?”

“She’s not my sister. We just came here together. She was a runaway. Found me when I was a cage fighter and stowed away in the back of my trailer.”

Your eyes practically bugged out of your head before you tried your best to hide your smile. “You were a…cage fighter? You? Logan Howlett, as I live and breathe? You sat opposite me with your feet on my desk? You were a cage fighter?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a smile. “Okay, okay. Alright. I get it.”

You shook your head. “I mean, you’ve got the physique for it, I just…” you laughed. “I just never pictured you as a cage fighter. A cage fighter, really?”

“Are you done?”

You bit back another laugh. “I’m-” It came out. “Okay, yes.” You laughed again. “I’m done. Okay, okay,” you breathed through it. “I’m done.”

Logan just gave you a look and raised his eyebrow.

You nodded with a wide smile. “I’m done. Finished. Promise.”

You even made a cross above your heart. Logan smiled and turned back to marking the papers as you read Rogue’s.

“What did you picture me as?”

You hummed a questioned response.

“You didn’t picture me as a cage fighter.” You held in a laugh. “Stop it.” You tried. “What did you see me as?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. A lumberjack? Bodyguard? A cowboy? Your tags say ‘Army’ but your personality says ‘Macho Man with a Protective Streak’.”

Logan hid his blush well as he turned his head away, the smile on his face not going unnoticed by you. “Alright.”

You loved seeing Logan smile. It wasn’t often he did it, but when he did…you wanted to take a picture.

Unbeknownst to you, Logan loved it, too. Maybe he wanted to keep up his reputation for how you saw him, as well as for how others saw him. But one thing he was glad of…most of the time when he did smile…it was with you.

However, as you both shared a laugh, a knock came from your classroom door where you looked to find one of your cousin’s standing by the door.

“I…there may have been a tiny accident.”

Pulling your own feet from your desk, you sat up and met your cousin half way across your classroom just as Logan pulled his feet from your desk and turned in his chair.

“Show me.”

Your cousin held out their hand to you. A deep gash was in the middle.

“Oohhhh kay.” You looked around you. “Logan, open up my top drawer in my desk. There should be some bandages.”

Logan did as you instructed and threw them to you. You caught them and turned back to your cousin. “How did this happen?”

“We were walking through the clearing. I slipped and tried to grab onto a tree branch.”

“And that caused the cut?” You asked as you wrapped their hand.

“Not exactly. I kinda…missed. And grabbed onto a rock instead.”

Logan stood beside you. “You must have found the sharpest rock in the forest.”

He said what you were thinking.

“How long will it take to heal?”

“That’ll depend.”

“On what?”

“On if you’re thinking about trying to climb the tree again.”

Your cousin panicked. “B-but we weren’t.”

Logan detected a lie.

“I have known you, your whole life.” You leaned in a little closer. “You need to stop climbing trees after it’s been raining.”

“Okay, fine.”

You took in a small breath. “It should be healed in a couple of hours. Just…wait until it’s dry before you do any more climbing.”

“Thanks, Y/n,”

As your cousin left, Logan remained fixed on his spot as you walked back to your desk. Pointing towards the door your cousin had just walked out from, Logan turned around to you.

“That was a pretty deep gash. That’ll take more than a couple of hours to heal.”

You looked at Logan for a split second before looking back to the papers in front of you. “It’s part of their mutation. Small things he can heal from, just not as quickly as you. We don’t all have super-healing, Logan.”

Logan gave you a soft smile, but it was still questioning. He walked over to your desk. “But their mutation gives them the ability to control water. Nowhere on their file does it say ‘heal’.”

Your heartbeat jumped.

Logan leaned up a little from your desk as you looked at him.

He’d caught you in a lie.

“Well, it’s not his primary power. My aunt mustn’t have thought it was important.”

Your heartbeat was normal.

So was your breathing.

Logan decided to drop it, but it was constantly on his mind.

Your heartbeat had jumped when he got closer to your desk and mentioned the mutation.

Either that was the very first lie you had told him, or your mask was slipping.

For the next two days, Logan practically watched you like a hawk. It was rare his gaze was somewhere else other than you.

He did question going to the Professor again, but considering he was adamant you weren’t a mutant, Logan considered it wasn’t worth the time.

He wanted to know why you had lied to him. Or why it was now he’d only just detected it.

However, it was at least another month before he would come to find out the truth.

“So why are we being called up?”

Scott turned towards the Professor, his arm across his chest. “Because last I checked, aren’t the fire departments meant to help with this kinda thing?”

“Usually, yes. However, we’ve been called personally. There are too many risks for just the average human being.”

A tornado had ripped through a small town, demolishing almost everything. From the brick buildings to houses to even schools. Some people were still trapped under rubble and others were hurt, if not worse. Except, the hospitals could only take so many patients at a time and the nearest hospital was at least two towns away.

“You’ll be working alongside the departments already stationed there but the main priority is helping people out safely.”

Twenty minutes later, they were headed for the jet.

And you caught Logan walking down the hall. “Where are you going?”

“There’s been a tornado-”

“In Oklahoma? I saw it on the news.”

“We’re going to help.”

You turned watching Logan walk further down the hall. “Wait, I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why?”

You threw your books into the nearest classroom, letting them softly slide against the desks and into their places. “I can help.”

Logan stopped and looked around. “They’ve already got too many casualties. We’re going because we’re less likely to get hurt.”

You sighed with a look. “Logan, I’ve seen at least half of the casualties. They’re gonna need more than just the X-Men. I can help.”

“Let her go with you, Logan.” The Professor rolled around the corner. “She knows what she’s doing.”

Logan took the Professor’s word for it. “Come on, before they leave without us.”

Passing your room on the way, you grabbed your jacket and a bag from under your bed. Logan looked at you curiously as you shut your bedroom door.

“Medical supplies.”

Logan just nodded and placed his hand at the bottom of your back guiding you down the hallway before you both set off running towards the jet.

Upon landing, everyone got to work.

Scott and Logan started helping those who were trapped under fallen buildings whilst Storm helped lift most of the rubble away as well as brush away most of the debris from larger areas.

Jean began setting up medical areas for people to be treated and seen to, and you helped her.

Thirty minutes later, you heard shouting.

It was a kid.

“Help! Please!”

Turning around, you yelled for Logan and he came running.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s my leg. I-I’m stuck. Please.”

“Okay, just stay calm. Logan help me lift it.”

Before Logan could even touch the wooden boards holding the kid down, the last half of the house shook.

“Okay,” you looked from the house to Logan. “We have to move. Quickly.”

From the count of three, you and Logan lifted the boards from the kid, except, as Logan helped the kid out, the rest of the house began to fall.

“Watch out!” A could firemen shouted.

Logan barely had time to react, covering the kid with his body, waiting for the impact of the house. Except it never came.

Slowly opening his eyes, Logan was met with a semi bright light of blue and when he turned around, he was more than shocked at what he saw.

Coming from you was a safety barrier. The house had fallen but it had fallen onto whatever blue dome you had created.

Despite the fact you had stopped the house from falling on yourself, Logan and the kid, there was a sting inside of you. How Logan was looking at you…pure shock and hurt…that stung you to your core.

“Get the kid out of here.”

Logan slowly jolted back into action, pulling the kid out as you turned around and pushed the house back and up before lifting it to a safe distance away from the rest of the people.

And Logan just watched you.

“Thank you, sir.”

Logan looked around for the voice after a moment, realising the kid was still beside him. “No worries, kid. How’s the leg? Think you can stand on your own?”

The kid nodded before looking down and paleing. “It’s bleeding.”

“Whoa, hey, okay. Take it easy.”

Logan helped him sit down on a cinderblock just as you got to his side. “Let me see.”

The kid slowly lifted his leg. “I don’t like blood.”

You knelt down and examined his leg. “It’s okay, buddy. Just close your eyes so you don’t have to look.”

“What are you gonna do?”

You looked at Logan who was all manners of concern, confused and intrigued.

Looking from him without answering, you allowed your hands to slowly ghost over the kids legs. Before his eyes, a blue light emitted from your palm and slowly healed the cuts on the kid's leg.

“Okay, you’re all sorted buddy.”

The kid opened his eyes and looked at his leg. The blood stains were still there, but the cuts weren’t.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know if there are any other kids around here?”

The kid pointed you in the direction of where a couple other houses had been standing only the day before and you and Logan went back to work.

Over the next couple of hours, Logan’s gaze towards you had gone from shock to confusion to anger.

You had lied to him.

Not only that, you had lied to all of them.

“Did you know?” Jean asked, standing beside Logan as he watched you with a little girl who had been crying. From nothing, you conjured up some daisies and whisked it into a flower crown for her hair. Logan’s heart was warm at the sight. The girl had gone from red and puffy eyed to smiling and hugging you.

Then he remembered.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell us? Why lie?”

“I don’t know.”

The girl almost skipped away from you and towards some of her friends she had spotted. You were still crouched down and as you turned, you spotted Logan and Jean.

One moment of eye contact with you and Logan started walking away in the opposite direction.

Jean watched as he walked away and you lowered your head, standing and looking around to see if anyone else needed help.

A firewoman approached you and asked you for help moving some old pieces of the school building.

When you returned an hour later, the only person you could find was Storm.

“Those were some pretty cool things you did earlier. My only question is, why not tell people about it?”

You looked at Storm as you helped her hand out small baskets of food for people. “Easier to keep to myself.”

“You know, the first day the Professor told me about you, he said you were something else. I thought it was just because you were the only human in your family. But clearly he saw something else.”

“I’m sorry, for not telling you all.”

Storm shook her head. “You never had an obligation to. It’s your life, Y/n. You get to decide how much you share with the world.”

You sighed, spotting Logan helping a couple of people out by the broken swings in the park. “I wish others could see it like that.”

Storm nudged your shoulder. “He’ll come around. He’s like a walking lie detector. He’ll be more mad at himself for not figuring it out.”

You gave Storm a thanking smile before going back to handing out supplies.

By nightfall, most things had been cleared up and the hospitals were less packed with patients thanks to yourself and Jean.

On the ride back you could practically feel the anger radiating from Logan. He would barely look at you. Jean and Storm seemed to be the only ones not pissed at you for not telling them.

By the time you landed, Logan was the first off the jet, his feet heavy against the stairs as he made his way back into the school.

“Is there anything else we should know, or do you have more lies stuffed up your sleeves?”

“Scott.” Jean warned.

“What? You can’t tell me you’re not pissed that she’s lied to us.”

“Scott, she didn’t have to tell us if she didn’t want to.” Storm told him.

“Still would have been nice to know.”

As Scott walked away, Jean touched your arm. “I’ll deal with him. He’s just hurt, he wasn't the first to find out.”

“How come you two aren’t mad at me?”

Storm and Jean looked at you with a faint smile on their faces. “The power you displayed today…we know what it’s like to want to hide that.”

“And we also know what it’s like to want to keep a secret. You didn’t have to share that part of your story with us, but you did because you wanted to help someone. No one can be mad at you for that.”

“Thanks, guys.”

Jean and Storm smiled as they hugged you. “Anytime. But this does mean you are making us all flower crowns. I wonder if we can get Logan to wear one?”

The three of you walked side by side back into the school. “He needs a haircut, first.”

The next day, you found yourself in the Professor’s office, the rest of the team already there.

And Logan didn’t seem any calmer.

Just eerily quiet as he watched you from the window, walking inside and standing in the middle of the room.

“I understand there is something you may need to share with the class?”

You nodded. “I guess you saw it on the news?”

The Professor nodded, but he didn’t seem mad. “That, and Scott was the first to come and see me this morning.”

You looked at Scott but he just scoffed. “They have a right to know we’ve got Class 4 mutant-”

“Class 5,” you corrected.

They all turned and looked at you with shock. Logan just stood, his arms still across his chest.

But the Professor smiled.

“It seems we have quite a lot to discuss. Everyone, please excuse myself and Y/n.”

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, they all left one by one.

Your eyes followed Logan but he didn’t look at you.

With your eyes still on the door he’d just closed, the Professor rounded his desk. “He’ll come to his senses. They all will. Please, have a seat.”

Logan didn’t see or hear from you or the Professor in over three hours. And by the time dinner rolled around, the only person he did see was the Professor.

“Where is she?”

“Gone.”

Logan nearly shot out of his seat as he looked from the library window to the Professor. “Gone? Where-”

“Relax, Logan. She’ll be back soon enough. I told her it was best if she went and got a little fresh air. You could use some, too. Your brooding is practically stinking this place out.”

Logan fell back into his chair. “She still lied.”

“And she had good reason, too.”

Logan looked back to the Professor. “She comes from an entire family of mutants, Logan. Her childhood was spent being surrounded by those trying to manipulate powers to be something greater than they already were. If she had shown who she truly was, I fear she wouldn’t have become the person she is today. Her family, for as much as they care for her…half of them would have wanted her to stay and have her powers trained into something for their own gain. The other half would have shipped her off to hide out in a country, alone for the rest of her life. They would have been frightened of her, Logan.”

“But why lie to us?”

The Professor sighed. “Logan, if you had spent your entire life being one thing, how long do you think it would take before you feel comfortable and safe enough to share a whole other side of you to someone?”

Logan was silent for a minute. “She said she’s a Class 5.”

Charles picked up the hidden question behind Logan’s statement. “I’ve read her mind, Logan. She’s not like Jean. She’s in full control. Always has been.”

The Professor waited for a couple of minutes. “I know you care for her, Logan. Try and find a way to forgive her for not telling you sooner.”

He made it to the door before looking back at Logan. “Maybe take a walk. It might clear your head. I hear Ororo planted some Evening Primrose. They should be opening up soon.”

With that, the Professor left.

And somehow, ten minutes later, Logan found himself taking the Professor’s advice.

Zipping up his hoodie, Logan placed his hands into his pockets as he walked down the steps towards the gardens. It was still a little warm but there was still that hint of chill in the air that let him know Fall would be closing in soon.

As time passed, Logan felt his mind working around the idea of you and the things you had told him, or rather hadn’t told him.

And the Professor was right.

The primroses had begun to open.

Logan had never really understood why people would watch flowers or do anything with them other than plant them and pull out the weeds a few months later. But as he was contemplating about flowers and why these off all things the Professor told him to look at, he looked up and spotted you.

You were sitting on an old swinging bench, watching the water softly ripple under the moonlight.

Logan watched you for a moment. You were calm. You weren’t writing or scribbling in a classroom, you weren’t buzzing around the kitchen or the hallways.

You were sat, alone, letting your mind concentrate on nothing but the constant movement of the water and the stars in the sky.

After a few moments, Logan noticed the soft blue glow by the ground around the water. Within a second, he watched as daisy’s and some other wildflowers started to push up from the ground. All the while, a blue wisp, almost like glitter, circled around them and then died away.

Then stems of grass began to lift before they stretched into what Logan figured out to be lilypads as they glided down onto the water.

“Figured you’d kicked down a few trees by now.”

Logan turned and looked back at you. Of course you knew he was there.

“Trust me, I thought about it.”

Slowly, Logan started walking towards you.

More flowers grew by the water's edge.

“You should open your own flower shop.”

You smiled a little. “Would you believe me if I told you I was allergic?”

“I don’t know. Is it the truth?”

You looked up at him. “You tell me.”

Logan could hear your heartbeat.

And he could hear your breath.

Both steady.

“I’m not hiding anything else from you, Logan,” you assured him.

Logan just raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue as he moved to sit beside you. “Hard to tell these days.”

“I know you wanted to know but it was easier to keep it hidden.”

Logan nodded. “The Professor explained it to me. But everything you said in the library…”

“I was living a normal life, Logan. To my family I am human. To everyone else I was the only human in a mutant family. What I said to you that night…I meant it. I know what it’s like to be alone and to feel lost.”

“And now?”

You shrugged a little. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.” Logan looked at you. You turned in your seat and looked back at the water, your fingers picking at your own hands. “And Scott. And the others. The Professor wants me to stay on, but I don’t know if I can-”

“You should stay.”

You looked back at Logan.

“You should stay,” he repeated. “The kids…they love you. Besides, who else is gonna be able to read Rogue’s handwriting.”

“What about the others?”

Logan gave a slight nod. “They’ll come around. Scott will come around. Jean will see to that.”

“And what about you?”

Logan didn’t know what to say.

“I care about you, Logan. I don’t know if I could carry on working here knowing you hate me for lying to you. Even worse…not being able to trust me. I am sorry for not telling you the truth, but I hope one day you can see why I did.”

“I think the Professor explained most of it.” Logan told you. “And I get why you didn’t tell us. It still hurts, but I get it.”

Your gaze fell on Logan’s face as he watched the forest come alive under the stars.

“I care about you, too.”

Finally, Logan’s gaze held onto yours.

Part of you was held in suspense for when he would look away. Your heart braced itself for him to turn away. For him to say something your heart didn’t want to hear and for him to leave.

As Logan looked at you, your heartbeat was like an echo of his own. Faint in the background, drowned out by his own rushing through his ears.

“Promise me…” Logan tried to find his words as his own hand found yours on the bench. “Promise me you’ll keep talking to me. That you’ll tell me things. That you won’t have any more secrets with me? Good or bad…I want to know them.”

You nodded. “I promise. So long as you promise me something, too.”

Logan gave a slight smile. “Don’t think you’re in the right area to ask for promises jus-”

You sat up and turned your body towards him, your hands enveloping his hand. Logan remained silent the minute he saw your relaxed smile.

“Promise me you’ll talk to me, too. And that you won’t try and hide your smile from me.”

Your hand grazed Logan’s cheek and he practically smiled into it.

“I like seeing your smile.”

Logan smiled. “I like seeing yours, too.”

With his elbow propped up against the back of the bench, his fingers slowly brushed your loose hair from your face to behind your ears and down your neck. Logan turned his head for a moment, his other hand coming to hold yours against him before he pressed a kiss to your palm.

From there, he simply placed your hand over his heart.

And you smiled.

His heart calmed at your touch, and he could hear yours.

With a soft smile that was very quickly turning into a smirk, Logan leaned forward, holding you steady before he finally kissed you.

He wouldn’t notice until the next day but the wildflowers that bloomed by the waters edge, just as he kissed you, dug their roots permanently. Even when questioned why they could grow so close to the water without any other explanation than it being a fluke, Logan knew the truth.

And it anyone was to question their origins and their symbolism: Eternal Love

It might finally provide an explanation.

Pulling back to catch his breath, he heard you let out a small laugh.

“What?”

“You seriously need a haircut.”

Logan groaned. “Still?”

“Just a little.”

A few weeks later, Logan found himself being pushed into a chair in his room as you wrapped a towel over his shoulders and pulled out a pair of hairdresser scissors and a comb.

“You know, you could have just asked to cut my hair. You didn’t have to trick me into it.”

“Logan, I have been asking you for months. Be lucky I didn’t ask Hank to knock you out and drag you here.”

“Do you even know how to cut hair?”

You started the first couple of snips. “One of the first things I learned to do. Besides learning how to cook. People can only take so many bowl cuts and parsnip soup from Great-Aunt Vi.”

Logan smirked. “Sounds delicious.”

“Sure, if you love parsnip water with cabbage.”

You moved around to stand in front of Logan, his legs opening for you to step into them. It wasn’t long before his hands found your hips.

Your heart jumped a little.

“Stop it.”

Logan looked at you innocently enough. “I’m not doing anything.”

His hands glided a little higher before you whacked his knuckles with your comb. He tried his best to hold back his smirk.

“Tease.”

It was your turn to hold back your reaction. “I’m trying to cut your hair. Distractions don’t help.”

“Don’t look distracted to me.”

You smirked a little, continuing to comb through and cut his hair. “Believe me, I’m plenty distracted.”

Logan chuckled and his hands moved back down to your hips before making repetitive strokes up and down your thighs and back to your hips.

Time passed slowly, albeit calmly.

“Okay, all done.”

You held a mirror in front of him. “What’d you think?”

Logan nodded before pushing the mirror down and pulling you closer to him before you found yourself sitting in his lap. “It’s nice, but I think I prefer this view.”

You blushed before kissing him, his hand raking through your hair, his breath pulling you closer.

It wasn’t long before you were straddling his lap, his hands holding you steady by your ass and thighs.

“Shouldn’t we,” Logan kissed you. “Be getting ready,” He kissed you again. “For dinner?”

“Good thing it starts at seven.”

You giggled a little as Logan smiled before his lips made their way down your jaw line and down your neck. Your own arms wrapped around his neck as you rocked forward on him a little, a groan coming from the back of his throat.

“That’s in an hour.”

“Gives us plenty of time then.”

You smiled. “To do what?”

A small gasp came from you as Logan stood up with you, your legs wrapping around him. “To get ready.”

With a suggestive eyebrow raise and a small bite of his lip, you let out a small laugh before kissing him again, his chuckle vibrating against your lips as he walked you towards the en-suit bathroom.

A small wisp of blue turned on the shower, letting the water heat up, all the while Logan set you down on the sink counter, the blue wisp locking the door, and him slowly removing your clothes before his lips left a trail in their wake, your own hands working to remove his clothes.

By a stroke of luck, neither of you were late to dinner (this time) but there wasn’t much time left for drying your hair. Logan was still towel drying his before you both reached the dining room.

“I see someone finally got a haircut.”

Hank was dishing out mashed potatoes onto each plate.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh. honey.” Your hand pressed against Logan’s chest before you kissed his lips. “It was.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining afterwards.” Logan mumbled to you through a smirk.

You blushed brightly. Logan’s smirk prominent on his face, his hand trained down your back and over your ass before coming to pull you in by your hips.

Soon, everyone else piled into the dining room, you all finding your designated seats. With Logan’s beside yours, his hand remained on your upper thigh for most of the meal.

However, no one seemed to notice that with each squeeze Logan gave you, a small row of daisies planted themselves outside, just below the windowsill.

#logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan x fe!reader #logan howlett x fe!reader #wolverine x fe!reader #wolverine #hugh jackman wolverine #x men #x men x reader #fluff #angst #falling in love #work place romance #friends to lovers #dislike to friends to lovers #kiss in the moonlight #class five mutants #flower symbolism

1K notes · View notes

soaps-mohawk · 2 months ago

Text

The Angel and The Devil

Kyletober Day 17: Double Penetration

Summary: In the back of the bar in a booth just barely visible, they are seated. You’ve been eyeing them since you first caught a glimpse, almost drawn to them in a magnetic haze. You can’t help but look, even if you run the risk of being caught staring. You have yet to be so unlucky, as their attention seems to be on each other the most.

Pairing: Incubus!Kyle x reader x Incubus!Johnny

Word Count: 6,688 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, anal sex, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), munch!Kyle, costumes, demons, symbolism, slight coercion, alcohol, language

A/N: And here we are! We've arrived at the end of Kyletober for what I think is my favorite fic of the month. It's been a fun month and I've had a good time with these fics and seeing everyone's reactions. I hope you've enjoyed the last month as well and Happy Halloween everyone!

MASTERLIST

The bar is full of all sorts of characters and creatures tonight.

It’s Halloween which means the bar is fuller than usual, even on a weekend. It had been a last minute decision which led you to the bar. After a rough day at work you needed a pick-me-up and so you had gone to the nearest store, grabbed one of the few remaining costumes off the shelf in favor of not sticking out, and then headed to your favorite bar.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

You’re beginning to regret not looking closer at the costume you grabbed. The cheap angel wings are too tight, the elastic straps digging into your underarms. The halo bobs precariously on your head with every movement, and you’re half tempted to just take them off and shove them in a bin.

“Yes, actually.” You say, turning to the Frankenstein that has saddled up to you at the crowded bar. “It means I have to listen to cheesy pickup lines all night.”

You ignore the jeers of Frankenstein’s friends as you turn back to your drink, casting your gaze around the bar again. You’re just here to numb the sting of a particularly awful day at work, and nothing more.

At least, until your gaze lands on them again.

In the back of the bar in a booth just barely visible, they are seated. You’ve been eyeing them since you first caught a glimpse, almost drawn to them in a magnetic haze. You can’t help but look, even if you run the risk of being caught staring. You have yet to be so unlucky, as their attention seems to be on each other the most.

It’s not fair how beautiful some people are. How blessed others can be with good genetics and decent bone structure. The two at the back of the bar may as well be models.

They’re...beautiful.

The one with the mohawk is all playful grins and boisterous laughter. There’s a roughness to him, more handsy than the other one, even as his bright blue eyes scan the bar occasionally. The other is softer with near perfect skin, short cropped curls, and the most dazzling smile you think you’ve ever seen. That smile still holds a teasing tilt to it though, but he’s not as blatant with it as mohawk.

The devil horns on his head don’t fit him. He should be the one dressed as the angel.

They’re both wearing cheesy devil horns and you suppose the matching tails. There’s a cheap plastic pitchfork leaned against the booth next to mohawk. The look fits him perfectly with his devilish grin, though you suppose the devil is supposed to be beautiful, so perhaps it does fit his partner as well.

You knew they were together as soon as you laid eyes on them. It’s not hard to tell. How close they sit, the way lips brush ears when they lean in to whisper. Smirks cocking lips in upwards turns as hands move under the table. They’re a beautiful couple. Far out of your league.

Yet you can’t help but imagine it. Screw the angel and devil on your shoulders, you want two devils. One in front, one in back. You can almost imagine the heat their bodies give off, the push of solid muscle on each side, sandwiching you between them.

Your teeth sink into your lip at the idea.

You turn your gaze back to them, nearly jumping as you meet a pair of bright blue eyes. You’re shocked for a moment, not expecting him to be looking right at you. His eyes have passed over you a number of times as he’s looked around the bar, but this is the first time he’s ever looked at you. There’s no mistake. He’s not looking at anyone else. His eyes are locked on yours, almost as if he had read your mind, seen your inner thoughts about the two of them.

Something holds you there, the magnetic energy that had drawn you to them strengthening. Heat pulses between your thighs as mohawk’s tongue darts out wetting his bottom lip. Those lips lift in a smirk and suddenly the spell is broken.

You whip back around to face the bar, cheeks blazing. The halo on top of your head bobs at the sudden movement, nearly pulling the headband from your head. You steady it with a hand, taking a deep breath. Shaky fingers curl around your drink and you down the rest of it, ignoring the burning in your throat from the strong liquor.

Of course eventually you’d get caught staring. It’s not like you were being very inconspicuous, out here eyeballing them blatantly.

“Can I get you another?”

The voice makes you jump, the empty glass in your hand nearly clattering onto the bar. Your head whips around, eyes widening as you stare at the angel before you. Well...devil before you.

He’s even more beautiful up close. His skin is perfect aside from the scar on his cheek. His eyes are deep brown, and the longer you stare at them, the more you feel like you’re sinking into their depths. You get a firsthand look at that dazzling smile as he flashes one at you, showing off perfect white teeth.

There’s an edge to that smile, though, something in the back of your mind starting to itch.

“Can I buy you another round?” He asks again in that smooth, honeyed tone. It’s captivating, almost floating straight into your ears like a song.

He’s staring at you, waiting patiently for your response. You clear your throat, nodding before you can even think about it. “Y-Yeah. I could go for another.” Your hand reaches up, steadying the halo again as it bobs back and forth.

His eyes watch your hand for a moment before he grins, dropping his gaze back to yours. He flags the bartender, giving him your order. You’re too busy staring at him, enraptured by his beauty to wonder how he knew what you were drinking.

“Would it be too cliche to ask what a pretty angel like you is doing here alone?” He asks, leaning against the side of the bar, blocking you from the werewolf next to you that had been eyeing you as you stared across the bar.

Your face warms, a laugh leaving your lips. “A little maybe.” You should stop there. “Getting some stress relief from that 9 to 5 grind.” The words leave your lips before you can stop them. You’ve lost complete control of your body and your mind in his presence.

Something is wrong.

Alarm bells go off in the back of your mind as he turns to the bartender. He slips a note across the bar, telling the bartender to keep the change. You had glimpsed it before it disappeared in the bartender’s hand. It was far more than two drinks would cost.

The bad feeling disappears from your mind as he turns back to face you, both of your drinks in hand. “Why don’t you come join us?”

Say no!

You nod, almost feeling like you’re in a trance. “Yeah, okay.”

He grins, his eyes flashing with something too fast for you to tell what it is. “Come on.” He motions with his head.

You slide off the bar stool, the two words almost feeling like a final signature on a contract, sealing your fate for the evening.

You won’t be leaving alone.

Your feet move automatically as you follow him across the bar to the booth where the other is still sitting. A tingle runs down your spine as he continues to stare at you. You feel almost like prey being stared down by a hungry predator.

Perhaps you are the prey. The angel caught between the claws of a devil.

You slide into the booth without even having to be told to, your body still moving automatically as you wind up between the two. Your drink is set down in front of you, and you don’t bother to notice how the one in front of mohawk hasn’t been touched.

“Aren’t ye a bonnie little thing.” Mohawk says, draping his arm across the back of the booth. “Call me Johnny. That’s Kyle.�� He says, nodding to the one on the other side of you.

You tell him your name, still feeling like you’re in a daze, trapped under his sharp blue gaze. Your wings move slightly, his fingers playing with the feathers strapped to your back. It feels almost ironic being trapped between them.

You certainly won’t be feeling much like an angel by the time the night is over.

“Saw ye lookin’ from the bar.” He continues, a smirk playing on his lips. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you can’t tell why. There’s something dangerous in there, some sort of threat raising alarm bells in the back of your mind. “Pretty little angel hoping to catch the attention of a couple of devils, huh?” He adjusts the twisted elastic strap of your wings. It makes your stomach clench, having his hand so close to you, his knuckles brushing against the side of your breast.

Something feels off, some primal part of your brain screaming, but you can’t quite hear what it’s saying. You’re too caught up in his magnetic presence to care about much else.

“Like what ye see, angel?” He asks.

You nod, still caught under his gaze. Your brain feels foggy, like you’re slipping into a daze. For a moment you panic that someone might have drugged your drink, that Kyle might have slipped something in while you weren’t looking. It’s easily done. All it takes is a second and you let him carry the drink all the way from the bar to the table.

Hands turn you around, the hazy fog disappearing as you meet Kyle’s brown eyes. Sudden clarity washes over you as you’re turned away from Johnny, almost as if he had been holding you under a spell. There’s still a faint buzzing in the back of your mind as you stare at Kyle and his soft grin. It’s so soft and comforting compared to Johnny’s intensity.

“Such a pretty thing.” Kyle says, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is electric as his fingers brush against you, your skin tingling all the way down to your toes and he’s barely touched you. He adjusts your halo as it wobbles, still holding your gaze.

“Been watching ye since you walked in.” Johnny says, suddenly closer behind you, his breath warm on the back of your neck.

You know that’s not true.

You don’t care.

“Knew ye were watchin’ us.” Johnny continues, his lips brushing the back of your ear. “Knew ye were interested.” He chuckles. “A little angel interested in a couple devils.”

A shudder runs through you as he presses a kiss to the skin behind your ear. His lips are warm, almost hot against your skin.

You feel warm again, your mind starting to go hazy as Johnny’s lips press soft kisses against your skin. Kyle’s hand drops to your thigh, fingers trailing up your jeans. You almost wish he’d slip that hand between your thighs, but instead he skirts it around to the outside, trailing those fingers up to your hip.

A couple devils indeed.

“Well?” Kyle asks, snapping you back into awareness. Johnny is pressed fully against your back, now his lips almost lazily brushing your skin. “Are you interested?”

Say no.

Some deep part of your brain is screaming, sounding off all the alarms and raising all the flags, yet you can’t bring yourself to listen to it, much less care. You’re in too deep and the only way out is to go deeper.

You’re not sure you want to stop.

You nod, your lips parting as Johnny presses a searing kiss to your skin.

“Need ye to say it, hen.” Johnny says, his hand closing around your side.

“Yes.” You breathe. The words feel like the fall of a gavel, the stamp of approval on that contract you signed by agreeing to join them in the booth. You’ve sealed your fate for the night.

There’s no going back now.

“Good.” Kyle says, leaning forward to kiss you.

His lips are soft, incredibly soft as they press against yours. He tastes like liquor, whatever sweet cocktail he had been sipping on. A quiet sound leaves your lips as his tongue presses into your mouth, his hand reaching up to grip your chin. You’re lost in the kiss, mind going blank as your body begins to tingle. Your panties are quickly dampening, the fabric sticking to your skin. Another hand drags up your leg, and you begin to curse your decision to wear pants. Who wears pants to a bar?

Someone who didn’t expect to pick up anyone tonight.

Or, well...get picked up.

Johnny’s hand squeezes your thigh, his chuckle vibrating against your back. “Gettin’ her all worked up.” He presses his face against your neck, Kyle tilting your head so he has more room. “Can almost taste it.”

His lips brush the side of your neck, his hand trailing higher on your leg. For a moment you hope he’ll take pity on you and slip it between your thighs, but instead he slides it higher, slipping it under your shirt.

You pull away from Kyle’s lips as Johnny’s warm hand meets your skin. It’s electric, his touch like fire against your body. Your head tilts back against his shoulder, a moan slipping from your lips as your pussy begins to throb. Johnny chuckles again, Kyle’s mouth moving to your neck. One of your hands grips the edge of the table as Johnny’s fingers brush the skin of your stomach, holding on for dear life.

All he’s doing is touching your skin. What is it going to feel like when he finally sinks his fingers between your legs?

You let out another moan as his hand slips higher, skirting dangerously close to your breasts. Reality slams back into you for a moment. Sure, you might be tucked in a back corner of the bar, but there’s still people around you. You’re still in a public place. You cast a nervous glance around the bar as Johnny’s hand cups your breast under your shirt.

No one is looking at you.

It’s almost like they can’t see the three of you at all.

“I think she’s ready.” Johnny says, pulling his face from your neck as his hand squeezes your breast through your bra.

Kyle hums, pressing one last searing kiss to your throat before he pulls his head away. “I think you’re right.”

“C’mon kitten. Let’s go somewhere more private.” Johnny all but growls in your ear.

You don’t remember the taxi ride home. You don’t remember getting up the stairs to your apartment or opening the door. You don’t remember telling them where you live at all.

They’re on you as soon as you reach your bedroom, sandwiching you between them again. Johnny in the back, Kyle in front.

You don’t remember telling them where your bedroom is.

“Look at her.” Kyle coos, holding your jaw in his hand. His thigh is pressed between your legs, the seam of your jeans pushing deliciously against your throbbing slit as you grind against his leg.

“Needy little thing.” Johnny groans, his hips grinding against your ass.

“Could say the same about you.” Kyle smirks, his hand sliding down to your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds it there, solidifying the silent agreement.

They’re in charge.

You’re just along for the ride.

“Want to taste her.” Kyle groans against your lips, his thigh pushing harder against your clothed pussy.

“Always so impatient.” Johnny says, undoing the button and zipper on your pants. “Yer in for a treat, hen.”

Your feet leave the floor as Johnny picks you up far too easily. You drop on your bed, the mattress creaking as you bounce on it. His hands curl around the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down your legs in one pull. He spreads your legs apart, staring down at your panties. They’re nothing special, certainly nothing you’d wear if you had been expecting something like this.

You just went in for a quick drink.

Now look at you.

“Would ye fuckin’ look at that.” Johnny says, whistling quietly as he stares at the damp spot on your panties.

“I think you were right.” Kyle says, resting his chin on Johnny’s shoulder, staring down at you as well. “She is ready.”

“Fuck.” Johnny curses, reaching down to tug your panties off too. You suddenly feel exposed, spread open before them. It’s been a long time since you’ve brought a stranger home from the bar, much less two.

“She’s thinking too much.” Kyle says, pushing Johnny to the side so he can kneel down in front of you. He tugs your hips until they rest right on the edge of the bed, tossing your legs over his shoulders. The halo on your head shifts at the movement, nearly coming off. You’re still wearing your costume.

So are they.

“Then ye best fix that.” Johnny says, pulling his shirt over his head.

You want to stare at his exposed skin, but you’re distracted as Kyle’s tongue drags through your folds. He knows what he’s doing, applying just enough pressure to make your pussy clench. No time is wasted as he dives right in, his mouth closing over your clit as he slurps at your drenched pussy. He’s like a starving man, pushing his tongue into your hole before licking his way back up to your clit, tasting every inch of you that he can. It’s like only you can satiate him and his need, his hands curling around your thighs to keep you pressed up against his face with no fear of suffocation or drowning. That’s a good thing, because with the way you’re gushing on his face, that may be an actual fear.

The bed dips as Johnny kneels behind you, crawling up so his knees are beside your head. You tilt your head back, expecting a cock in your face but instead you’re surprised to find him still in his briefs. He’s hard and bulging through the fabric, but still covered nonetheless. His hands land on your chest, slowly dragging down to your breasts. He palms them over your shirt, his thumbs circling over your nipples through the fabric.

“Johnny loves a good pair of tits.” Kyle says, pulling away for just a moment before his lips wrap around your clit again.

Your hips jerk, another moan leaving your lips as Kyle gets back to work. Johnny finally relieves you of the angel wings, pulling the elastic down your arms before tossing the cheap cardboard and feathers to the side. His hands slide over your breasts again before trailing downward to the bottom of your shirt. His fingers curl around the fabric, yanking it up, somehow managing to pull your bra with it. Your halo comes off with your shirt and you half expect it to hit the floor with the wings, but instead Johnny pushes it back onto your head. Your shirt and bra get tossed to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

You’re the only one fully naked, and for some reason that leaves you feeling very exposed.

You don’t get much of a chance to dwell on that tickling still itching in the back of your mind as Johnny’s hands brush your skin again, his palms cupping your breasts. He leans over you, a set of dog tags hanging in your face. You stare up at them as they dangle over you, swinging back and forth as Johnny massages your breasts.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He groans, squeezing them gently.

You glance down, just catching the look Kyle gives him as he licks another line up your slit.

A yelp leaves your lips as Johnny’s fingers tug on your nipple, a yelp of surprise more than pain. It feels good, something you’ve never been able to feel there before. Then again, everything feels good right now.

They play your body like an instrument, Johnny teasing your breasts while Kyle licks and sucks on your pussy. They’re so intune with each other, Johnny’s fingers almost a mirror of Kyle’s mouth. It’s almost eerie how they intuitively seem to know what the other is doing, and how to make you feel the most pleasure.

They’ve done this before.

Your slick is soaking your comforter but you don’t care, too busy being caught up in the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You’re just getting started and already your toes are curling, heels digging into Kyle’s back as you get closer and closer to the edge. You’ve never felt this way with anyone else, an energy thrumming beneath your skin. You feel electric, you feel alive.

“Gonna cum!” You gasp, heels digging harder into Kyle’s back. He offers no complaint, sucking harder on your clit.

Johnny tugs on your nipples at the same time, intensifying the sensation as your back arches, cumming all over Kyle’s face. He licks up every last drop, pushing you almost to the point of overstimulation. It’s burning deep within you, your fingers curling around the comforter as you pant, sweat starting to bead on your skin. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

He finally gives you some relief, pulling away from your pussy before you can reach that point of the uncomfortable sensation becoming pleasurable again. It was right there, right on the edge but you’re denied that feeling as he sits back on his heels. His face is shiny with your slick as he lets your trembling legs drop so they’re hanging over the side of the bed. You can’t move, far too dizzy with pleasure still from your first orgasm.

It’s only the first and you’re already feeling almost drunk on the sensation.

“Good?” Kyle asks, pushing himself up to stand.

You nod, still breathless. “Yeah. Yeah it was.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips for a moment. “Taste good.” He licks his lips. “Sweet like sugar.”

“I want a taste.” Johnny says, approaching Kyle.

For a moment you think he’s going to dip down between your legs next, but instead his hand closes around the back of Kyle’s neck, pulling his face close. Johnny’s tongue licks at Kyle’s skin, lapping at your shiny juices still coating his face. Kyle offers no complaint, his lips parted as Johnny licks him. It ends in a kiss, all tongues and teeth as their bodies press tightly together. Your toes curl again, pussy throbbing at the sight of them together.

You could probably get off just watching them together.

Kyle’s hands slide down Johnny’s sides to his ass, pulling their bodies closer. They grind against each other, Johnny almost whining into Kyle’s mouth. You’re more than happy to watch them together, leaning up on your elbows so you can see them better.

“We’re neglecting our date.” Kyle says against Johnny’s lips.

“That’s not very kind of us.” Johnny responds, pressing another searing kiss to Kyle’s lips before they turn to look at you.

You gulp, suddenly feeling very small under their gaze as they stare at you like two hungry predators. Excitement thrums under your skin at the promises their eyes hold. The foreplay was exactly that, a warm up for what is to come.

You’ll certainly be doing a lot of that tonight.

They break apart, the bulges between their legs prominent as they stand before you.

“Tell us where ye want us, hen.” Johnny says, stepping up closer so he can drag his fingers over your thigh. Goosebumps form on your skin from the soft drag of his calloused fingers against the sensitive skin.

Your eyes dart between them a couple times, your pussy fluttering at the ideas flashing through your head.

One on each shoulder.

“One in front, one in back.” You stutter out, another rush of arousal coursing through you.

“Fuck yes!” Johnny cheers, pulling away from you to drop his briefs instantly.

“You just made his night, love.” Kyle grins, face still shiny from a mix of your cum and Johnny’s saliva.

Johnny’s briefs land somewhere as Kyle begins to undress, pulling his shirt over his head. You take the opportunity to truly look at them. They’re both fit and muscular, Johnny thicker and broader than Kyle’s lean figure. Kyle’s muscles flex as he reaches down, undoing his belt and jeans, giving you a good look at his abs. You lick your lips, watching his pants fall and then his briefs.

Both of them are still wearing their devil horns, but neither of them make a move to take them off.

“Lube?” Johnny asks.

“Drawer.” You say, pointing with your toes towards the dresser.

Johnny opens the top drawer, letting out a groan when he sees your panties.

“You’re going to lose a pair.” Kyle says, maneuvering you on the bed. He’s finally naked, cock hanging heavy between his legs. He’s almost perfectly built, thicker than he is long with a little curve.

Your pussy gushes at the sight of him.

He’s perfect.

He gives you a grin, something shivering down your spine as you stare at him. Warning bells are going off in your head, but they’re too drowned out by the need pulsing in your brain. Kyle lays himself out on the bed, fisting his cock in his hand. He relaxes back against the pillows, slowly pumping his cock as he stares at you with lidded eyes. You kneel between his legs, batting his hand away so you can wrap yours around his length. You lean down, dropping a glob of spit onto the tip of his cock before spreading it on his skin with your hand to lessen the friction.

You meet his gaze again, a shiver running down your spine as you find yourself captivated in those deep brown eyes. They look almost black in the light of the lamp on your desk behind you. They opted for that light instead of the overhead one. You don’t think too much about it. You always hate the bright fluorescent overhead light anyway.

The bed dips behind you as Johnny kneels on the mattress, his hands maneuvering you so you’re on your knees, your ass in the air. His hands smooth over your ass as you continue lazily pumping Kyle’s cock. The cool drip of lube on your ass makes you jump, your hand squeezing around Kyle for a moment. He lets out a groan, his head thumping back against the headboard. You keep that pressure as Johnny’s finger circles your hole, spreading the lube around the tight ring of muscle.

“Fuck,” you breathe, trying not to squeeze your hand any tighter around Kyle’s cock as Johnny pushes the tip of his finger past that ring of muscle. More lube hits your ass as his finger sinks deeper and deeper in.

You’re going to need more than one finger, from the glimpse you caught of his cock.

You close your lips around Kyle’s tip as Johnny continues to work you open on his fingers, pushing a second one in with more lube. He’s cautious and gentle, something you wouldn’t have expected from such an eager man.

Just the fact he’s even prepping you is shocking enough. Then again, they seem more than eager to be the ones giving you pleasure over themselves.

“Ye like that?” He groans, pushing his fingers into your hole. “Feel good?”

“Mhm.” You moan around Kyle’s cock, pushing back against his hand as he pushes in a third finger.

Your pussy continues to drip, your entire body clenching around his fingers as he sinks them in as deep as he can. You take Kyle as deep as you can into your mouth, his back arching up off your pillows as he moans. It’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, like angels singing.

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny groans. He pulls his free before slapping a hand down on your ass. “Go sit on Kyle’s cock for me.”

You release Kyle’s cock, licking your lips before doing what you’re told. You scramble up over Kyle’s hips eagerly, taking his cock in your hand again.

“Hi, love.” He grins up at you.

You can only let out a groan in response as you line his cock up, slowly lowering yourself onto him. He’s perfect, stretching you open deliciously. It burns a bit, but you don’t care as you continue to work him into your dripping pussy. Your legs are shaking already by the time you’re seated completely on him, your hands pressing against his lower stomach to keep yourself upright. He’s solid under your hands, but his skin is warm, almost hot under your touch.

He’s still staring up at you with those lidded eyes, his hands sliding to your thighs. “Good girl.” He grunts as you squeeze around him, his fingers digging into your thighs like he’s trying to hold himself back.

Maybe he is.

Johnny’s hand pushes between your shoulder blades, bending you down so you’re resting against Kyle’s chest. It moves his cock inside of you, a breathy moan leaving your lips at the change in position. Kyle releases his grip on your thighs, instead lifting his arms to wrap around your back. It feels intimate, the way he holds you. Far too intimate for just a one night stand.

Your fingers lift to brush the dog tags around Kyle’s neck. He’s wearing them too, the metal shockingly cold despite the furnace-like warmth of his body. You can’t read what’s on them in the dim light, but you don’t really care to know at the moment.

Johnny’s hand slides down your spine, smearing lube across your skin but you don’t care. It’s the cool drip of more lube on your ass that pulls you from your daze, the bottle snapping shut before hitting the bed somewhere beside you. Something thicker than fingers presses against your hole, your body clenching in anticipation. Kyle lets out a groan, his hips pushing up against yours as you squeeze around him again.

“Relax for me.” Johnny groans, pushing the tip of his cock against your hole.

You let out a long breath, willing your body to relax as much as you can. Johnny’s hand presses against the base of your spine, Kyle’s arms still holding you against his chest. His lips press against your forehead, something tingling against Johnny’s hand as you find yourself relaxing more and more.

A breathy moan leaves your lips as the head of his cock presses into your ass, stretching you despite the prep he’d given you. He’s so thick, almost spearing you open as he rocks his hips, pushing more and more of his cock into your tight ass. Kyle stays still, holding your body as Johnny continues to work his way in. He’s so thick you can feel every inch of Kyle’s cock inside of your pussy. You can’t do anything but lay there and moan in pleasure from the mix of sensations.

There’s a moment of silence, a deep breath as Johnny’s hips meet your ass. You’ve never been quite so full before, not like this, not so perfectly. They’re perfect, fitting into you like a glove, hitting every spot you could ever want them to.

It’s almost too perfect.

The thought is erased from your mind as Johnny begins to rock his hips, Kyle’s arms tightening around you as you begin to move against his chest.

“Fucking christ.” Johnny breathes as you squeeze around him, pussy clenching as Kyle begins to move under you.

“Bloody hell, love.” Kyle groans, pushing his hips up into yours, finding the rhythm of pushing in as Johnny pulls out.

Your nails bite into the skin of his chest as the pleasure continues to build. You were worked up before they stuck their cocks in you, and now having them both inside of you is almost too much.

Johnny bends over your back, changing the position of his thrusts. It pushes his cock against Kyle’s inside of you, pushing Kyle against that spot, his cock dragging against it with every movement of his hips. Johnny’s dog tags drag across your skin as he thrusts into you, the metal cool despite the moist heat of your bodies beginning to warm the room. Goosebumps erupt on your skin from the dual sensations, the warmth of their bodies, the cold of the metal against your back, the push and pull of their hips. It’s all so perfect.

They do the work for you, playing your body like an instrument again with that uncanny understanding of each other. Kyle’s cock pushes in as Johnny’s pulls out, keeping you on the precipice of pleasure as they fill you completely. You’re rendered helpless as you lay there, unable to do anything but moan as your second orgasm of the night continues to build. Your entire body is trembling and twitching, all of your weight resting entirely on Kyle, but he offers no complaint.

It doesn’t seem to bother him at all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You squeal as Johnny picks up the pace, thrusting into you so hard your headboard begins to knock against the wall. Kyle’s arms tighten around you, holding you still and using you for leverage as he thrusts up into you. “Please, please, please...” You repeat it like a mantra, your entire body on fire with pleasure.

Something tickles in the back of your mind, getting stronger and stronger the more you get closer to your orgasm. You can’t place it, you don’t care to, as your body writhes with pleasure.

“That’s it.” Johnny groans, “Fucking take it!”

“Gonna cum for us?” Kyle grunts, still thrusting up into you. “Gonna give it to us?”

“Yes! Yes!” You cry, your back arching as you push yourself up against Kyle’s chest.

The light behind you on your desk casts your shadows along the wall behind the bed. Your eyes watch the way they move and dance as you push yourself up so your back is against Johnny’s chest. Kyle’s arms drop from around you as you push yourself back, the new angle nearly blinding you with pleasure.

The halo still on your head rocks forward and backward almost violently as Johnny continues to drive his hips against your ass. His arms wrap around you, holding you up against his chest.

Perhaps it’s the pleasure numbing your mind, but you swear the room starts to get darker, the shadows lengthening as you stare at the dancing shadows on the wall. Johnny’s hand reaches up, tugging the halo from your head, letting it fall to the floor.

You’re frozen there, captivated as his shadow almost seems to get bigger, the fake horns still on his head starting to lengthen and twist. Something unfurls from his back, spreading across the wall as the shadows continue to press inward around you.

Wings. They look like wings.

White hot pleasure blinds you as Johnny pushes your face down into Kyle’s shoulder, his own body folding over your back. You’re sandwiched between them, unable to do anything but take the pleasure they’re bringing you. Your clit drags against Kyle’s stomach as he gives over control to Johnny, letting Johnny’s thrusts rock you on his cock. Your hand curls around Kyle’s dog tags, the metal still somehow cold against your fingers. They feel bigger now, thicker and wider than what they had looked like.

No, there’s not two of them anymore.

It’s one pendant on the chain, some kind of pattern imprinted on the smooth metal. Your fingers trail over the smooth surface, tracing the raised lines. You can’t tell what it is, far too lost in pleasure to rationalize what is happening. Kyle’s hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it from his dog tags. He uses it to pull you up, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. Warmth floods your body at the press of his lips, your mind starting to go fuzzy.

“That’s it.” Johnny groans, grinding against your ass. “Give it to us.”

Your ears begin to ring as more and more pleasure builds, drool slipping out from your lips as you pull away from Kyle, your entire body tingling. There’s something coming, something building within you so strong you almost can’t take it. It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s not coming fast enough.

“Come on.” Johnny says, pushing himself up just slightly to drive his hips downward against your ass.

You nearly let out a scream as the pleasure hits you all at once, fluid gushing out of you and soaking Kyle’s lower body. Your entire body writhes and shudders between them, the pleasure never seeming to end as Johnny continues thrusting almost violently against you. Kyle’s hands reach up, gripping your hips as he moans, his head falling back. You’re squeezing around them so tightly you’re shocked at how Johnny is still moving.

“That’s it.” Johnny groans. “That’s it.”

You feel like you’re floating, barely registering the way Johnny and Kyle kiss over your shoulder, groaning against each other’s lips. Your body twitches as you get further and further away, almost floating right out of your body. You’re exhausted, the energy and life draining right out of you as you milk their cocks of their own cum. It’s hot as it spurts inside of you, filling you up almost impossibly full.

Kyle’s hand presses against the back of your head, his voice low in your ear. “Sleep.”

You’re hungover.

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes as you lay there on your stomach. Your head is throbbing, body weak as you groan in annoyance. You forgot to close the curtain last night.

The sun is streaming in, warming your room. It smells like sex, your skin still sticky with sweat. Memories from the previous night begin to fill your mind as you come more and more into awareness. It barely feels real, almost like last night was a dream. Did you really catch the attention of those two beautiful men at the bar? Did you really bring them home and fuck them both?

It feels like a dream, it might have been a dream.

You crack your eyes open, letting out a groan. You are alone, the only remnant of the night before the scent of them still lingering in the air. They smelled good, sweet and musky, so strong you could almost taste it. They smelled good, even sweaty from the heat and exertion.

You can still feel their touch like a phantom left behind in your memory. The brush of their lips and fingers, Kyle’s head between your legs, the fullness of your body as they fucked you into one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. It was addicting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to feel as satisfied as you did last night, even with the way your head is throbbing and your body feels drained of all energy.

It was all so perfect.

It must have been a dream. You had too much to drink and fell asleep dreaming about two perfect men fucking you to the point you couldn’t remember your own name. There’s no way two men were such perfect matches for you and for each other. Perfection doesn’t exist.

You roll over onto your back, your limbs heavy with exhaustion. How long had the three of you gone last night? You can’t remember much past your first orgasm. You’re not even sure you remember your first orgasm.

It must have been a dream.

Something catches your eye as you roll over, tugging the blanket up around your chin. You squint through the blurriness and the haze of exhaustion, staring at your nightstand. peripheral vision

No, it wasn't a dream.

It was very real.

There's a set of dog tags sitting on your nightstand.

To be notified about new fics, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

#kyletober #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #Kyle Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #gazsoap #Johnny x reader x Kyle #soap x reader x gaz #call of duty #call of duty fic

534 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

Text

Lost Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Jason comes home to you, his wife, after a mission and makes up for lost time.

Warnings: fluff and comfort! brief mention of the Lazarus Pit and human trafficking

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: I really want to write a lengthy oneshot for Jason but I don't know if I capture him well enough. I don't get many DC requests but I love them so much!!

Picture from Pinterest (WFA Jason >>>)

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

Jason Todd leaves, it’s what he does. Sometimes there are warnings, direct and indirect, but other nights he leaves while you sleep or simply doesn’t come home when he should. That’s who he is, what he does. There is more to Jason than meets the eye; he isn’t just Jason, Red Hood, or Bruce Wayne’s dead and nearly forgotten son. One piece of Jason makes him whole: being your husband brings him back, every single time. Jason leaves, but the time you spend alone is spent in confidence that he will come back to you, even if he’s broken and crawling.

While Jason is in Blüdhaven helping his brothers with a mission that Bruce doesn’t know about, you spend the time alone missing him. He hates leaving you, but you understand. That doesn’t mean, however, that you just wait for him to come home. Being married is supposed to be a 50/50 arrangement, yet you have given everything to Jason and there is not a single thing you wouldn’t do for him.

Tonight, nearly 96 hours after you last saw Jason, you make yourself comfortable with one of his books. The pages are yellowed from use, and highlights and notes fill the margins and the empty pages. Each word reminds you of Jason, and though you miss him, you refuse to look at his empty side of the bed. In the time since he left, promising to come back to you with a kiss and a tap to your wedding ring, you have read several of his books, cooked his favorite meal, and baked his favorite goodies. The distractions you created are all centered around Jason because despite what you tell yourself about needing to think about other things, Jason Todd takes up every single one of your thoughts. He’s captivating, and you never want to escape him.

Your phone beeps as you finish a page of Frankenstein. After taking a calming breath, you read the message from Barbara.

The bats are Gotham-bound.

The message makes you smile, and you rise from the bed to prepare for Jason’s return. He has come home without a scratch, drenched in blood, and everything in between. In sickness and health, you vowed, and you plan to keep it. With his favorite food already prepared and water heating in the kettle on the stove, you sit on the couch and wait for his entrance. The front door is behind you, and you watch as the Red Hood lands on your fire escape and expertly navigates into your home. His home.

The couch is empty by the time he turns from the now-closed window, and your arms loop around his waist as he moves. Jason chuckles at your immediate attention and pulls his helmet off.

“Miss me?” he asks.

You can hear his smile in his voice, and as Jason’s arms wrap around you, you sigh and release every fear and worry that had been pushed into the back of your mind.

“I need to shower,” Jason says, though he doesn’t move his hands from your back. “Blüdhaven is gross.”

“And Gotham is known for its cleanliness,” you argue.

“Get off,” Jason grumbles.

He raises his hands to your shoulders and easily pushes you back. You look at him as you raise your hands to hold his wrists. Jason’s gaze is soft and his touch is softer.

“Ten minutes,” he requests quietly.

“Someone needs pampering,” you tease. “Take your time. There’s food and tea if you want any.”

“Just wan’ you,” he murmurs.

Jason leans in and kisses your forehead quickly. He avoids your hands as you reach out for him. You laugh as he walks away, and the sound brings Jason home. He’s physically home, yes, but he is only home when you are completely and wholly with him.

The water echoes through the apartment as Jason enters the shower, and you prepare two mugs of tea before carrying them into the bedroom. You would wait forever for Jason, but as you lean back and close your eyes, content listening to him move through your shared home, you know that you’ll never have to wait long.

When Jason enters the bedroom clad in a pair of Wonder Woman sweatpants and smiles at you, everything seems better. The darkest Gotham day can’t cast a shadow on what you and Jason have. Before Jason left, he told you all you needed to know about the mission, and you won’t bring it up again. If he wants to talk about it, he will, and you’ll listen.

You raise the blanket as Jason approaches the side of the bed. He doesn’t hesitate to join you and pull you closer. After looping your arms over his shoulders, you push your fingers into Jason’s wet curls and twist them gently around your fingers. His white streak is closest to you, yet you concentrate your attention elsewhere to keep your eyes locked on his.

“You read it again, didn’t you?” Jason asks.

His eyes threaten to flutter closed, but he forces them open to talk to you.

“Read what?” you whisper.

“Tell me what I missed,” he requests.

You know he can see his books piled on your nightstand, but you enjoy the smile he gives you when you pretend not to know what he’s talking about. Jason pulls your hands away from his hair, opting to hold you against his side. You lay a hand over his heart and gently trace the bottom of a scar. You know his scars by heart, and each story behind them is ingrained in your memory.

“Not much,” you answer after a moment.

“Did you do anything? Because everything you do is important, and I want to hear about it,” Jason argues.

You lean closer and spread your fingers flat against his skin. His heart thrums steadily beneath your hand, and you think your heart beats in time with his.

“Maybe you just married me for the post-mission cuddles,” you say.

“Or maybe I just married you because I love you. I love you for accepting all of me and loving the parts that I don’t let anyone see.”

“Jason,” you hum.

“You didn’t tell me about what I missed,” he replies.

The first raindrop hits the window, and Jason is reminded that he’s back in Gotham. He’d move to Metropolis and listen to Clark as long as you were by his side, but being in your arms in his home town is a feeling unlike any other.

“I’ll take it you didn’t go to the manor,” you deflect.

“Why would I when I have a beautiful wife waiting at home for me and four days to make up for? Lost time with you will always be more important than Bruce.”

You sigh before you begin telling him about what you did. There isn’t much to tell. You read one of his books, cleaned, cooked, baked, and read another book.

“You baked?” Jason interrupts. “And didn’t bring it up until now?”

“I thought time with me was more important.”

Jason furrows his brows as he turns, pulling you to lay on top of him. When you first started dating, Jason was hesitant to initiate any sort of physical touch. Not long before, he had been Gotham’s most-feared crime lord and the rage caused by the pit was still present. Now, there is nothing to stop Jason from touching you: no fear of hurting you, no concern of scaring you away, and no doubt that you won’t love him once you see his darkest secrets. Jason’s scars, his past, and his nightly activities make him the man you love, and you love those parts of him, not the other way around.

As you cuddle with the man who recently scared human traffickers into turning themselves in to the authorities rather than running into him again, you simply enjoy being together. Your husband Jason and Red Hood Jason aren’t the same, yet you love them both equally.

“Do you really want to make up for lost time?” you ask over the rain.

Jason thinks your voice is more soothing and melodic than any rainstorm could dream of being. He pries his eyes open to answer, “Every second of it.”

You nod and lay your head against his chest. With your hearts pressed to one another and your fingers intertwined with Jason’s, you know that you are loved, and Jason knows you will always be here when he comes home.

You’re nearly asleep when you mumble, “’S a lotta time.”

Jason smiles but doesn’t move because he doesn’t want to disturb you. “Never enough time with you,” he whispers against your temple.

#hanna writes✯#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd #batfam #red hood #red hood x reader #requests #fem!reader #dc comics x reader

1K notes · View notes

samkerrworshipper · 4 months ago

Text

the lawn is dead

it’s suicide awareness month and i want to emphasise the importance of reaching out. you are loved. there are options. you will be missed. suicide is a permanent solution to temporary problems. you can get better. you are not a lost cause. talk to somebody.

warnings: reader discretion advised. heavy suicide, self harm, depression themes

There was an overall assumption that all children were born innocent.

Not you.

You swore that when you were born, a coin was flipped, and it landed on the complete wrong side.

Sometimes you felt like your brain and body were disconnected, that everything inside of you worked separately, like you were a sewed together body on the inside, a internal frankenstein.

It was tough feeling like you didn’t belong in your own boyd, but it was even harder when you knew that you were an imposter inside.

It was ironic, that you had imposter syndrome, and yet there was nothing wrong with your life.

There had been.

Had. No longer. Past tense.

You’re supposed to be happy, you suppose. You have the world at your feet, you have the life everybody wants, the world is your oyster.

It doesn’t matter how many times you rotate those thoughts through your split up brain, it never sinks in, because there is a deeply onset belief inside of you that can’t deny the dishonesty behind the words.

You should be happy, you should be utilising the gifts you’ve been given, you should be appreciating the life you have, and yet all of it just feels like a big ball of tangled up yarn, a clump of knots and mess that makes no sense.

You’re not allowed to feel numb, so you try and pinpoint what it is that you are feeling.

Are is too hard, so you start with aren’t.

You aren’t mad, you aren’t sad or it doesn’t feel like normal sadness, you’re definitely not happy, not scared, are not anxious, it feels like nothingness.

Yet nothingness doesn’t feel so all consuming, nothingness is lying in bed down in bed and doomscrolling until somehow 8 hours have passed and you’ve wasted a whole day and don’t find yourself caring. Nothingness is sitting down in the shower and covering your ears with your hands and finding solace in the intense rain noises. Nothingness is driving until you forget where you were supposed to be going and have autopiloted your way to the opposite side of town somehow. Nothingness is being so obsolete of your own body that everything is a fog, nothing makes sense, you’re devoid of all emotions and all the discombobulated sections of your body.

If anything, this is everythingness, this is all the feelings in the world beating down across your skin. You’re itching with agitation, itching with everything in your life and yet none of it penetrates the surface beyond the rotor of thoughts that continue to circulate like the blood in your veins.

It’s like your sitting inside a plastic bubble, and every variable is crashing down against the plastic. It’s all there, it’s crashing down, but it doesn’t touch you, it doesn’t penetrate, there is just a constant reminder that it’s all there. If you try to break out of the bubble you’re forced to face it, but you feel like you’re suffocating and the bubble is slowly depriving you of oxygen.

A part of you wouldn’t mind for it to suck the life out of you.

Sometimes it’s inevitable, letting the thoughts in your brain win, or syncing the truth out so much that it all distorts into a messy mixture of non-emotions that are more hurtful then helpful.

You’re in a weird funk, that’s hwat you keep telling yourself. With injuries and off-season and change of seasons. You tell yourself that it’s unescapable, that there aren’t any ways to escape the deadly habit that is you’re self-inflicted brain rotting and slowly decomposing.

There are outlets, there are options, but in it;s current state you’re brain denounces them all.

Occasionally, you’re brain falls into the same death trap that it was conditioned into as a child. Survival was solely your own responsisbility, there was no leaning, no relying, just yourself and your own strategies that occasionally kept you functioning.

Most of the time you were fine, most of the time you were able to isolate the darkest, disconnected fragments of your body but not all the time.

Sometimes you don’t though.

Every so often, you suffocate yourself, intentionally or unintentionally isn’t always clear, sometimes you’re so lacking on oxygen and everything that makes survival a possibility that you just stop. Those times, when you stop, when you fall, when you plummet. It’s when you drop into the death pit of unthinkable thoughts.

It’s when you get to the part of your brain that you wish had never been stitched up with all the others.

You try and avoid it, if you work hard on a normal day then you can normally disconnect it from the functioning parts that you rely on, but occasionally, when you’re left to fend for yourself that one part that’s normally off, lights up like a christmas tree.

It flashes bright red, like a alarm in the deepest parts of your brain, and it won’t stop flashing until you do something about it.

You’ve got coping mechanisms that you’ve developed over the years, running, football, eating, cooking, reading, sleeping, sex. None of it has even begun to strike the surface, normally your best bet was sleeping it off, depression, or depressive thoughts always seemed to fade with sunlight, it was the moments in the dark when everything suddenly felt… heavier.

You hadn’t been able to sleep since you’d gotten injured, everything was harder when you had so much weight on your back. Weight to recover, weight to get stronger, weight to be the same on the pitch.

It was a minor injury, some grief with your ankle ligaments that weren’t actually injured but also weren’t fixed, it was annoying, and everyday was a drag.

A drag of back and forth recovery and rest that had your mind buzzing from the inside.

It was no secret that you didn’t handle injuries well, you craved the physicality of being a professional athlete, your brain needed the stimulation that it involved. Without it, you struggled, it was clear to everybody around you that you couldn’t function sitting on the sidelines, it had inevitably made you crazy.

You were walking on eggshells, your friends had tried to point it out to you and you’d ignored it up until now.

It was impossible to ignore it at this stage though.

It was all you could think about, the constant pain, the overwhelming brain fuzz, the weight of it all.

Over and over and over and over and over again.

Your hands are shaking, your breaths are staggered, your skin is prickly, your throat is dry, your body is cold and there is a deep set pain in the centre of your stomach that no matter how many times you try and shift it away nothing works.

You’re too deep.

Your whole life, it had always been your biggest wish that the part of you that was broken and threaded together would fix itself, medication made it manageable, therapy made it calmer, but sometimes in life it was impossible to contain the uncontainable. Life was unpredictable, and yet your circumstances were on trend with how your life had been recently.

You should have seen this coming, but a part of you thinks that you did and you’d been content with letting all of these thoughts infiltrate deep in your mind.

Sometimes you look at yourself in the mirror, and you can’t even notice it, it’s like all of the pain and trauma will fall so far from the surface on occasion that you’re foolish enough to believe that maybe it’s all finally gone.

Not now, not at all.

But a part of you wants to make it all gone.

It’s all you can think about, you know how easy it would be, you have it all planned out.

The letters are written, the plan has been made for years, it’s your execution that is lacking.

You aren’t scared, you are more than happy for a big blac cloud of nothingness to come and take you from your life, it would make it all so much easier.

You just need to know that you’ll succeed.

Failure is not an option, in ever single part of your life it hasn’t ever been. But specifically with your life.

If you’re out, you’re out, end of sentence.

There isn’t any recovery, there isn’t any coming back, no psych holds, no hospitals, no treatment, just death. It’s an answer, it’s conclusive. Right now it would solve all of your problems, literally, you could count on every single finger and toe how it would solve the fucked-up puzzle of your life. Normally, there is always something holding you back though. Football had been the main excuse for most times, the headlines would be miserable and all of the fuss and fake-sentiment would be so much worse. Once it had been because you were in love, and that was the best reason. But, like most thing you were unable to keep it alive, and so it died out.

It was all a metaphor for your life, football had been good, until it all slowly self-detonated, love had been good but you were a ticking time bomb of sabotage.

It would be oh so easy.

You knew the tips and tricks, you’d been thinking about it for years. Four long vertical lines, deep enough to need stitches but not deep enough that it would all fade immediately. You wanted to feel the pain, you wanted it all to be a big black and red painful mess, your vision swimming and body giving up because of the pain, not because of the damage you’d done.

It sounded so perfect.

It would be oh so easy, nobody would even notice, it would probably be days before anybody even realised you were gone. You would fade from earth and life like nothing, and nobody would care, and you were happy for it to be that way. You were happy to just disappear, you wanted it all to end.

It’s all hitting that hard, you don’t want help, you don’t want to feel normal, you don’t want treatment, you don’t want meds, you just want to be gone. You normally experience life with so many emotions, too many, but right now, in the bubble of your depression, the only think you feel is a desire to vanish.

There isn’t any hesitation, nothing holding you back as you pick up your poison of choice. It’s always been the same since you were a teenager, you’ve known how you’d go out from the minute it had gone downhill from the very first time. That had been a long time ago now, but not much had changed. Sure, maybe your face had matured a bit, you’re body had changed with being a professional athlete, and you weren’t as self destructive but really when it all boiled down nothing had truly changed.

You were the same broken, lost and alone girl that you had always been.

The same girl hiding in the corner of her bathroom in a pair of sweats that made her body seem so much smaller then it was, a razor blade in one shaky hand and the other hand busy forcing the sleeve of her hoodie up, leaving a easily accessible patch of skin.

It was the same old routine, except this time with a different intention.

You had your scars, you had your invisible marks that nobody could see but you. You were as good at hiding them as you were at your depleting mental health. Over the years you’d learnt how to hurt yourself without leaving permanent marks, you’d learnt how to hide it all from the people closest to you.

Until Alexia.

Love made a person dumb, and being in love with Alexia made you happier then you’d ever experienced and from the moment fireworks had gone off between the two of you, your barriers had fallen down. It had been good, until it hadn’t. Once again, you were left all alone, due to your own self-destructive habits. You couldn’t let yourself be happy, you didn’t know what long term happiness looked like for you and it was terrifying.

It had all been downhill from there, if there was no happiness in the future for you then what was the point? Your life was blowing up, football was the only thing you’d ever lived for and you still had football but football wasn’t for ever, if there was nothing beyond that then what was the point. You didn’t have a education, and whilst you earnt a decent amount off of football, it wasn’t enough to live off of, and now you had nobody else to live for.

Your life, from your perspective, had become pointless.

Whilst you were certain that your behaviour and gone unnoticed, that was far from the truth.

Most of your teammates had picked up on your particularly low mood. You weren’t ever the happiest person in the locker room, one of the more lowkey people who always allowed yourself to fade into the shadows. But that didn’t mean that people didn’t notice you, especially the people who had come to care for you.

You were injured, and that had come to be the main justification for your particularly down moods, but there was also a sneaking suspicion across some of your teammates that something more was wrong, that there was some other kind of cause for the way you dragged yourself around the gym and rooms during your days spent doing rehab.

You looked lifeless, like everything human about you had been drained.

Alexia knew it was something more, in her time with you, she’d learnt about your struggles and just when she thought that you’d started to open up to her, you’d cut it all off. So whilst she didn’t know the extensive history, she knew you had your demons, and that whatever was haunting you this time around wasn’t going to dissapear anytime soon.

Alexia could say that she didn’t care about you anymore, but it would make her a liar.

She’d always hoped that the two of you would make your way back to eachother, that you’re insistence that the two of you weren’t meant to be was overshadowed by the doubt you’d always about the relationship would somehow flip and you’d realise no matter how many issues you had Alexia was prepared to love you through all of them.

But as the time passed from the breakup, you only distanced yourself more. The person that Alexia had tried to bring out shrunk right back into it’s shell. Everyone on the team had been elated to see you find your footing with Alexia, it was the first time in your years at Barca that everyone started to meet you as a person and not just as a footballer. Alexia thought it had meant things were looking up for you, but all good things came to an end.

You’d been appearing like you’d slowly been slipping further down a slope, the bags underneath your eyes getting bigger, your sluggish behaviour getting worse, your determination to do you rehab dwindling and your willingness to interact with any person at the club being completely non-existent.

You were anti-social at the best of times, but completely diverting from all interactions was new for you and Alexia hadn’t been the only one to notice, it was evident to anybody with a brain that something was wrong, Alexia had no idea though just how wrong it all was.

The coincidence of an away Madrid game during the time that it was clear you were tanking was something that Alexia was particularly annoyed by. There was no plausible excuse for her to stay back from the trip, she was the captain, and she was perfectly fit to play. Plus, she had no obligation to you, you’d washed your hands of Alexia months ago and whilst Alexia still felt lingering concern for you she couldn’t justify staying back for what could potentially be nothing.

That didn’t mean though that she was going to just leave you be, not when she was so certain that there was something truly wrong.

Alexia wasn’t exactly sure of the severity of your trauma. She knew that your relationship with your parents was frayed to say the least, that you didn’t talk to them at all anymore and every time Alexia had tried to ask about them she had been met with a cold shoulder. So after a few tries she’d stopped trying, she didn’t know what it was like to have a disconnected family, she couldn’t relate or empathise with your issues and it killed her.

She knew you took medications, she had no idea what, you kept your daily medication closely guarded, but she knew it had something to do with your mental health. She didn’t ask about it, Alexia had been through your shut downs with you, and she knew broaching the subject of your mental health could be so detrimental to your mindset. She let you show her as much as you wanted to, she ignored the scars on your body, ignored the way that she recognised the complete disregard you had for your body. It was clear in every single aspect of your life that you had a little bit less concern then everybody else did. You put your body on the line in football, in ways that made Alexia furious. You didn’t flinch away from pain, if anything you stepped into the line of fire.

You hid injuries, you hid sickness, you pushed through it all. It was terrifying for Alexia as a partner to watch you continuously put yourself on the line and act like it was completely nothing. By the end of your relationship it was getting hard to watch it happen.

Your ankle injury was a result of that, you hadn’t even been the one ton sideline yourself. It had fallen down to Irene catching a glimpse of your purple and black swelled up ankle after a training session and her marching you to the team physio to get it checked out. It wasn’t shocking to Alexia, but it did make her wonder how many time you’d chosen to hide your pain in favour of putting up a brave face and pushing through, in all aspects of your life.

Alexia was worried and yet she felt as though she had no right to be.

She’d let you push her away, knowing that in some way or another it could be hurting not just her but you, realisatically she couldn’t do anything about it. If you didn’t want to be in a relationship with her she couldn’t force you, but a part of her thought she might have let go a little to easy.

For her, you would be the one that got away.

She wasn’t ready to let you get away yet though.

Really, if she thought about it, it was Mapi who had highlighted that you weren’t okay, and that maybe it was time for somebody to reach out to you. Mapi had come to care a lot about you, she’d seen how broken both you and Alexia were after the split, Alexia was still functioning though, you seemed like you were losing energy for life as everyday passed.

Mapi had been the one to suggest that she’d check on you whilst everyone else was gone, Mapi being stuck behind with some minor twinges in her knee, it was more precautionary than anything that she took the weekend off. She was more then happy though to be a good friend and spend some extra time with you if it meant getting to the bottom of whatever had been going on.

Her intentions had been to bring around a fresh meal, her mama’s old tapa recipe that always managed to light up Ingrid’s face. If her tapas earned her a way into your apartment then she was hoping to sit down with you, maybe have a chat, watch whatever football watch was on. Something, she wanted some kind of proof that you were okay, that even though you were going through a rough time that you manage, that at some point you would come out of this funk and you would go back to the old version of yourself. Maybe better, maybe you would unearth some kind of happiness from you situation and you would be better off because of it.

Mapi knew the odds of all of that were drastically low, but she was also the optimist of everything, it was the reason that she was so good at making uncomfortable people feel more settled in the team. She knocked on your front door with a extra bit of pep in her, hope that somehow she was going to resolve all of the underlying issues that everyone had been expressing for weeks now but had been too afraid to unearth. Mapi was certain that her approach might actually help, that instead of being the authoritative figure that Alexia, Irene, Marta and Patri were as your captains. Mapi was here as a friend, nothing more and nothing less and she hoped that would maybe encourage you to open up to her.

Mapi waited at least a minute after her initial knock before knocking again.

Your car had been beside Mapi’s when she’d parked downstairs, so she knew you were home. It wasn’t late, but it also wasn’t early enough that Mapi could rule out the possibility of you being asleep. Alexia had shoved her old key to your apartment into Mapi’s hand before she’d left, there weren’t any instructions, but the pure desperation in Alexia’s eyes was making Mapi feel compelled to use it.

Her third knock on the door was met with more silence.

You were probably sleeping.

There were parts of Mapi crawling with the emerging feeling of anxiety, she just needed to see you. You’d skipped your gym session today, something that was extremely abnormal for you, it had been worrying enough for Mapi, but you not responding to her now was sending her into a full on spiral.

“It’s Mapi, if you could open up for me please chica, I have some food for you.”

Mapi doesn’t even hear furniture creak.

She repeats what she said again, and is met with complete silence.

“Chica, are you in there? Are you awake? Just answer me, you don’t have to open the door.”

Mapi, if she looks really hard, can make out the faintest glow underneath your door, maybe a lamp?

Mapi waits a few more seconds, and sprinkles in some aggressive knocks. She’s met with nothing in response.

She digs around desperately in her pocket for the key, her fingers eventually coming into contact with the weight of the key in the back pocket of her jeans.

She pulls it up to the door knob with regret coursing through her veins, she doesn’t feel good about invading your privacy, but she feels even worse about everything else, and it’s all enough to overshadow her concern for your feelings about being left alone. After all, you might just be asleep.

The key makes a click after Mapi turns it counterclockwise twice, Mapi reaches for the door knob, it’s the final barrier between her and you, and without much hesitation she pushes the knob down and it opens.

Mapi shivers with the frigid breeze that comes at her as she steps into your apartment.

As soon as her foot hits your wooden floor she can tell something is off, she doesn’t know what but she can just feel it.

Mapi walks into your apartment slowly, with a quick scan of your kitchen and living space she is certain the room is empty. She leaves her dish of tapas on the couter of your kitchen and surveys the room before hesitantly making her way into your hallway. The door to your guest room is open, so naturally Mapi looks in there first.

“Chica, I came in to drop off some food, are you home?”

Mapi, whilst she can’t physically see you anywhere, has a weird kind of sense that you are here, she’s just not sure where.

The guest room is completely empty, in fact, mapi is sure that there is dust lying on top of the spare sheets. She can’t remember the last time you mentioned having somebody stay, at the very start of your signing to Barca, occasionally girls from your National team would come and visit during breaks. Mapi remembers that time, she wouldn’t have said you were happy, but you seemed a bit more content. It was best Mapi had seen you before Alexia.

Mapi is fairly familiar with your apartment, between game nights, post game drinks and double dates she’d spent enough time in your apartment to know where everything was.

Your main bathroom was empty, leaving your bedroom and ensuite.

Mapi felt like she’d invaded enough of your privacy, your bedroom might be the over step.

But there was the clawing feeling, the same feeling that she’d gotten when she’d walked into the apartment that something was wrong, and she wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight without getting to the bottom of it.

So with much apprehension, Mapi walks the rest of the way down the hallway and to the door of your bedroom.

Mapi swears that she has sweat through her shirt, even though your apartment feels colder than the Norwegian winter she’d recently experienced.

Her hands are all sweaty, the same they get before any match, she doesn’t know where her nerves are coming from, she doesn’t have anything to worry about, yet.

Mapi knocks as quietly on your bedroom door as possible, she’s made her mind up that if you are sleeping she’ll leave a note with her tapas and take her leave, she doesn’t need to disturb you.

“Chica, I came here to drop some food off, just make a noise and I’ll leave you.”

Mapi waits for what feels like eternity, and after a long stretch of silence she takes the leap.

She opens the door as quietly as possible, and feels defeated when she spots your complete empty bed.

Everything looks normal, in a weird kind of way. Your sheets are made up, almost pedantically. All the corners tucked in and pillows positioned like they would be in a catalogue.

The only light in the room is the light that is filtering in from your ensuite, underneath the door. It’s bright enough that Mapi can see around the room.

She wants to leave. But she can’t, not without checking.

There is a off chance that you’ve gone on a walk, an activity that definitely was not approved by your physios but she supposed you’d never really obeyed them in the first place.

It’s one last room, your apartment seems so devoid of life that Mapi is confident that it’ll be empty.

She tiptoes across your bedroom, everything about this feels so wrong, like she’s invading somebody’s life that she doesn’t even know anything about.

Mapi knocks on your bathroom door.

“Chica, if you’re in there, just let me know and I’ll leave you be.”

Silence. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a squeak.

Mapi’s hand is so sweaty that it nearly slips off of the handle on the door, she doesn’t know why she’s nervous, she doesn’t have any reason to be nervous. Yet it also feels like there are a millon under lying reasons.

Mapi plucks up the courage, because she has to, and twists the knob.

Away games are always a weird mixture of relaxing but also having absolutely no time to yourself.

Alexia’s least favourite part about away games is team bonding. Following the first team dinner of every away trip it’s customary to do some kind of team bonding exercise. She understands that it’s important, but after a long train trip to Madrid the last thing she wants is to spend hours trying to get out of an escape room with no phone and all of the younger girls talking her ear off. What Alexia wants is to get back to the hotel and sleep. Yet she’s stuck in a confined space with girls that she loves but wants nothing more to get away from.

Caro and Keira seem to be in the same mindset as her, the three of them all keeping as far away from the ruckus as possible. After two hours of the madness, Vicky of all people manages to get to the bottom of the puzzle and somehow unlocks the door, Alexia isn’t sure of the logistics of it and she doesn’t really care.

The girls all celebrate as the file out, but there is an overall feeling that everybody is ready to head back to the hotel and go to sleep.

Phones are handed back and Alexia almost pockets hers, to tired to look at whatever messages or instagram notifications she has. But it’s the sea of missed calls that catch her attention.

Alexia’s heart drops.

She’s got dozens of missed calls from Mapi and she knows from the minute she sees her call log that something is wrong.

All Mapi can remember is the amount of blood.

It was so red against your white bathroom tiles.

So much blood. Mapi was certain that there wasn’t that much blood in the human body, and yet it just kept leaking out, even as she pressed your towels to your arm, it kept leaking through.

She vaguely remembers going through her very basic medical training. Checking your pulse, it took a while for her to find it but eventually she does. She doesn’t know if it weak or it’s just her shaking hands that can’t pin your pulse down.

She uses a leftover hair tie on her wrist as a tourniquet, she doesn’t think it’s working but she has nothing else.

Compression.

She vaguely remembers her call with the emergency services, struggling to find words but forcing them out of her mouth because she had to.

The lady on the other side of the phone talks her through it, tells Mapi that she’s doing the right things, she walks Mapi through what to do if you stop breathing. Mapi thinks you are, your chest lifts every so slightly every few seconds, but it’s so subtle Mapi swears she might be imagining it.

The lady tells Mapi that eventually your blood should clot, but Mapi finds it hard to believe. Her hands and shirt are covered in blood, your blood, it’s everywhere, red and thick and it’s overwhelming Mapi. Your bathroom looks like a crime scene, a murder scene, and Mapi supposes it almost is.

When the paramedics show up, Mapi doesn’t know what to do, they’re so methodical. One of them talks to Mapi whilst their partner attends to you, Mapi’s hands are shaking, her hands, covered in your blood. She should have taken that extra medical course that they’d offered all the players at the start of the season, maybe it would have prepared her better. Nothing prepares a person for what Mapi just did though, no amount of medical training or training courses could ever prepare a person for what Mapi just saw.

The paramedic assures Mapi that she did everything right, that you wouldn’t be alive without her, and those words make it all worse. Dead. You could have been dead. The paramedic offers to take Mapi to the hospital with you, but she declines, she needs a minute, she needs to have a second to think about herself. The paramedic tells Mapi the name of the hospital they’ll be taking you and takes her name and number to give to the nurses as your contact.

They whisk you off right in front of Mapi’s eyes.

Your body is white, you look so lifeless.

Once you’re gone, Mapi closes the door to your bathroom, she can’t look in there, not at the raw amount of evidence that you’ve left behind. It’s already all over her body, she doesn’t need to see anymore of it.

She sits down on your tight sheets, and she realises that there is a piece of paper sitting at the edge of your bed, a letter.

Mapi cries when she sees it, she lets it all out.

It’s addressed to Alexia and Mapi doesn’t need to read it to know what it’s intention was, what your intentions were, if it wasn’t already confirmed then this only assures it.

Mapi leaves red finger prints on it, picking it up and collecting some of your clothes from your wardrobe before leaving your apartment.

Alexia clicks on Mapi’s contact with so much fear coursing through her body, she’s praying that it’s not here mami, not when Alexia is away.

“Ale-Alexia, thank god you picked up, gracias a dios.”

Mapi’s voice is quivering, Alexia’s not sure if she’s ever heard her voice like that before.

“Maria, what’s wrong? Why did you call so many times?”

There is a sob on the other end of the line, and Alexia starts to pray, to any god that whatever Mapi is about to tell her isn’t going to be bad, she can’t handle bad news right now.

“She was supposed to be sleeping, I was so sure she was sleeping. There was so much blood, I thought, I didn’t think there was enough blood in a person’s veins but there was so much of it, it just kept leaking out of her.”

Alexia’s heart and stomach are at her feet, she clutches for a wall, a solid form that she can rely on so that she doesn’t collapse.

“Who, Maria, who? What are you talking about, where are you?”

There is another sob, a deep sob, like Mapi’s being tortured.

“Y/n, I went to visist her like you’d asked, an-and she was, I thought she was dead.”

Alexia heart feels like it’s on a rollercoaster, like it’s returned to a normal level for a second, before plummeting even deeper.

“What do you mean Maria, what are you talking about.”

Somebody in the group must have realised Alexia’s discomposure, because she can feel a group of eyes on her, like everybody is trying to figure out what is happening on the other end of the phone.

“She left a letter, she-she I thought she was dead Ale, why would somebody do that to themselves? Why would she want to do that to herself.”

Alexia is aware that Mapi is clearly in some kind of post-traumatic state, that it’s going to be hard to get to the bottom of this but she’s managed to string the details together. From what Mapi’s said, you’re still alive, but it can’t be good, not by how Mapi has made it sound.

“Maria, I need you to listen to me. Where are you? Where is she? What is wrong with her.”

Alexia can hear Mapi trying to take some deep breaths on the other side of the line, somewhere in the crowd Ingrid is pushed forward, looking at Alexia with so much confusion. Mapi doesn’t often have anxiety or panic attacks, but if she were, Ingrid is certain that she would be the first person for Mapi to call, yet she’s received none.

“I-I’m at the hospital with her, she’s been moved to the ICU, I haven’t seen her yet but the nurses told me they had to perform CPR in the ambulance and that she was rushed to surgery when she got here. She’s been stable since but she’s in critical condition.”

Alexia doesn’t know what to do, she wants to be with you.

“Maria, I’m going to hand you off to Ingrid okay, talk to her, let her calm you down. I’m going to talk to the staff and try and figure out a way for me to come home, talk to Ingrid, okay?”

Ingrid looks confused but takes the phone from Alexia regardless, allowing Alexia to walk towards the staff, her face sullen and body hurting from the pressure of all of this.

Mapi thinks you look worse, somehow.

All of the wires and cords and the bags and needles make your body look wrong. Nobody should need so many weird connections, yet considering the state you were in Mapi is oddly comforted by it all, she wants you to be getting as much help as your body needs.

She still got your blood on her, one of the nice nurses had helped her to wash it off her hands and arms, and Mapi had stolen one of your sweatshirts she’d haphazardly grabbed as a replacement for her shirt, but she can still feel it on her body.

She’s been sitting in the same chair since the nurses let her in to your room, it’s next to the window, so when Mapi feels compelled to cry, or can’t handle looking at your body any longer because it gives her a flashback, she looks out the window at the bustling city of Barcelona below her and it oddly comforts her. Life goes on, everyone elses life goes on, but yours almost didn’t.

Her mind goes to dark places thinking about the what if she hadn’t of come to check on you? Mapi knows the answer to that question, even a few minutes later and your body would have been even more lifeless then when Mapi found it, except maybe instead of most of life being drained from you, all of it would have been.

They still don’t know for sure what it’s going to look like when you wake up, Mapi was hardly paying attention when the doctors came to talk to her, they were speaking so many words that Mapi couldn’t even pretend to know the meaning of. She remembers bits and pieces, the parts that she knew she’d have to remember in case Alexia called again and wanted an update.

You’d lost a lot of blood but they were working to try and replenish it, you’d needed nearly 100 stitches all together, the scars were all about 6 inches long and just almost ½ and inch deep. You didn’t hit any major arteries or veins, but you grazed one of them and that was most likely why you bled so much. Your blood might have not clotted because of the antidepressants in your system potentially mixed with the ibuprofen you were taking for your ankle. They don’t know when you are going to wake up but they emphasise you sleeping isn’t a bad thing because you’re body is getting the rest that it needs to repair itself.

Mapi doesn’t understand the measurements or the way medications work, she knows your body needs rest but she also desperately just wants you to wake up. Selfishly, even if it’s just for a second so that she knows that you are okay, so that she can stop blaming herself for killing you. She’s always going to somewhat blame herself for this, but you dying would be the straw that broke the camels back.

Alexia doesn’t think the whole way back to Barcelona, the staff managed to get her on the last flight out of the night, with Ingrid.

They both don’t say a word after Alexia briefs Ingrid on what she learnt from Mapi on the phone, it’s nowhere near enough information and it leaves Alexia’s brain stumbling, she’s so uncertain of everything.

There is a chauffeur waiting for them at the airport which takes them straight to the hospital, Alexia doesn’t even pretend to be flattered when the reception staff immediately know who she is and takes her straight to your room. She has one concern. Everything else is just background noise to her.

Seeing you makes Alexia feel sick, literally, it’s a few seconds before she feels the bile rising. It’s been building for hours now and she rushes into the bathroom adjacent to your room and ungracefully let’s her stomach go directly into the toilet bowl.

Once she’s done and she feels less like her heart is going to fall out of her throat she gets up and puts on a brave face, walking back into your room.

Mapi has tears streaming down her face, Ingrid is trying to talk to her but Alexia can tell that none of it is getting through to her.

“Mapi, what happened?”

Alexia wants to know, she needs to know, she needs to know how you got here.

Mapi is shaking, her whole body, it’s almost scary the way that her body vibrates against the chair she’s sitting in.

“I-I went to check in on her, dios mios, it was so cold, she was-she-.”

Ingrid stops Mapi.

“Alexia, we can do this later, she can’t handle this right now.”

Ingrid looks as terrified as Alexia feels, but her fear is for Mapi, it makes sense, Mapi is the love of her life. Alexia doesn’t think she’s entitled to the same fear, she let you go.

“No-no, she wants to know.”

It’s clear that every word is pulling Mapi further and further apart, but she pushes through.

“I-I just needed to see her, I went through all the rooms until I got to her bathroom.”

She lets out a sob before continuing.

“There was so much blood, it was all coming from her arm, I tried my best, I tried my best.”

Mapi sobs again, this time it’s so deep and guttural that Alexia is so horrified about what is to come.

“I tried to stop it. She was supposed to be sleeping, I thought she was just sleeping. She was unconscious, blood everywhere, and it just kept coming, it wouldn’t stop. I tried my best.”

Ingrid is murmuring words into Mapi’s ear, Alexia doesn’t know what to say, she actually can’t think of a single word to say.

“I called the ambulance, but she coded in the ambulance, they had to give her so many stitches, so much blood.”

Mapi keeps repeating the same words, over and over again, like it’s a mantra.

Alexia needs to stop it, for her bestfriends sake.

She walks to the otherside of the room, gently pushing Ingrid to the side so she can squat down in front of Mapi.

“Maria look at me. You did your best, you saved her life. You are no more to blame for this then anybody else is. You did so well, she’s alive because of you, she is breathing and sitting in front of us because of you. You did that.”

Mapi doesn’t look like she believes Alexia, but it’s a reprieve from whatever trance she was in.

“How about you and Ingrid go and get something to eat, I’ll stay here with her, if anything happens I’ll call you, okay?”

Mapi looks apprehensive to get up, but Alexia watches Ingrid give her a look and it’s the first time since Alexia’s walked into this room that she sees a little bit of normality return to Mapi’s face.

“Sh-she left you a letter. I think you should read it.”

Mapi pushes it into Alexia’s hands like it’s poisonous.

“Thank you Mapi, I will, go and take a break.”

Alexia presses a kiss to Mapi’s hand, before moving to allow Ingrid to help her up. Mapi is uneasy on her feet and for a second Alexia thinks she might collapse or vomit. She eventually finds her footing though and follows Ingrid out of the room.

Alexia looks down at the letter.

It’s got dried blood finger prints on it, she presumes from Mapi, it secures all of this in some weird way. This is all actually happening.

Alexia takes her time opening it, this is tangible evidence of all of this and a part of Alexia wants nothing more then for it to disappear, so she can pretend none of this has happened.

She wasn’t even there for it, she can’t imagine what Mapi went through, she already feels like every part of her has been stripped away with this.

She feels like she’s an imposter in this all, she doesn’t know what to do.

You’ve never expressed to her anything about family or parents, she doesn’t think it would be right to call them without your permission. She wants to call her own mami but that feels a bit silly, although she knows somehow her mami would give her all the right advice. She doesn’t want to talk about any of it though, it feels wrong. This is such a personal issue, she doesn’t even think she should know about it, she doesn’t have any right considering that Alexia could have very well contributed to this whole issue.

The letter is white, off white possibly, it’s hard to tell with the harsh fluorescent lighting.

The marks that would have been bright red at some stage have faded to a dull reddish brown, it’s imprinted deep into the paper.

Alexia flips it over, gently opening the seal with her fingernail and letting the flap open up.

The paper inside is the same colour, except even though she can only see the flip side it’s clear that there is black scrawl all over it.

Alexia could make it disappear, act like she read it, it would make it all so much easier, it would save her a lot of emotions that she really doesn’t feel prepared to feel. But she doesn’t get to make that decision, she needs to read this, for you and for her.

Dear Alexia,

If you’re reading this then chances are I’m already gone, if I’m not then something went wrong and for that I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that any of this was about you, or that you or anybody else was responsible. I made this decision, I’ve been thinking about this long before you came and I would have spent everyday thinking about it, no action or intervention would have changed that.

I don’t know how to explain it, but life is different for me. I don’t experience things the same way, I don’t get happy when I spend time with friends, I don’t get happy when it’s sunny outside. I’ve tried it all, I’ve tried to make it work, tried to live life in my body. I think a part of me was always separate though, and as much as I’ve tried to make it work there is no point in trying to fix something that is always going to be broken.

Being with you was the first time that my brain felt quiet, that I kind of felt the experience of happiness that everyone else feels. You made it all better, everything with you felt better, it felt normal. All I ever wanted was to be a normal person, and you made me feel like that. It’s not fair of me to be saying that, you deserved better then me, it wasn’t fair for me to burden you with all of this shit. Fucked up is never not fucked up, you can’t uncrumple a crumpled piece of paper, it will always be creased. I want you to know that I didn’t do this to you, i did this for you. It wasn’t fair weighing you down, I know it wasn’t easy for you when we broke up, you deserve to focus on football. You deserve to have a good life, you deserve to be free. I don’t want you to feel bad, I don’t want you to feel like you’re responsible. Live your life, be happy, for me, experience it all, because I couldn’t.

I’m not myself anymore, although I don’t think I ever was myself. It always kind of feels like i’ve been different people in my own body, and this time i couldn’t handle it. I don’t want to feel devoid anymore, I want to be free. My identity has always been identified as being a good footballer, a great footballer, and I don’t even think I can say that I am that anymore. I am nothing, want to be nothing.

I’m sorry I never loved you back in the same way, I’m sorry I never reciprocated the endless graciousness and love tha you gave me. The smiles, the effort, the constant love, it was wasted on me and my biggest regret in life will be letting you waste it on me. It wasn’t fair, it’ll never be fair, because I loved you back and that perhaps was the most selfish act I’ve ever committed.

I’m sorry, there aren’t enough words that I could use to tell you just how sorry I am. I’m sorry that I burdened you with me, I’m sorry that I let myself be cared for by you, I’m sorry that you have to read this.

I’m sorry.

There wouldn’t have ever been anything I could have done to repair it, I didn’t want to live knowing that I would forever be in debt to you for this. I hope that eventually you will find peace in this, that some good will finally come of me.

Goodbye.

There are tears all over the page by the time Alexia gets to the bottom of the letter, she actually can’t comprehend what she’s just read, she swears that her mind must be playing tricks on her. Why would you think all of those things? What made you think all of those things?

Alexia feels sick again.

Did she make you feel that way? Did she make you feel like you weren’t deserving of living?

There are so many questions circulating her brain, and she doesn’t have a answer for a single one of them, because she doesn’t know. Suicide was your only option, one that could have been very permanent, it makes Alexia’s head swim. You believed that your only option to make it all stop was death. You found a permanent solution to something that Alexia’s considers a potentially temporary situation, had you reached out, had you tried to find help. She can’t criticise you, she can’t even begin to comprehend how hard it would be living as you have, and then having to try and talk to somebody else about that. A part of her wishes you had though, because maybe it would have saved her beind here.

Your body is the exact same it was the last time Alexia looked at you, but for some reason you feel different.

Alexia reaches out for your hand, it’s the arm that’s not covered in bandages. Your hands are cold, but she tries to ignore it. She focuses on the feeling of movement underneath her own hand, it’s the only real tangible proof she has that you are here with her, that you are alive.

Sure there is a beeping heart monitor, and other signs, but she just wants to feel you.

She holds your hand, because she swears that she’ll slip away. Alexia doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know how to help you but she promises herself that she’s going to be here, that she isn’t ever going to let you experience life the same way that you did without her being there for you.

—————————————————————

thoughts appreciated …. part 2?

another reminder that if you ever need anybody to talk to i am here, your life is worth living, you are worth it all. <3

521 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year ago

Note

omggg im craving a halloween themed , rockstar!eddie x shy!reader at a halloween party , matching costumes and everything & he sees a ton of guys hitting on her & is like ???? my baby?

here you go lovie! hope you like it! — eddie takes his girl to a bar on halloween and gets jealous when guys hit on you like you're not already his (shy!reader, rockstar!eddie, established relationship, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The world didn’t know you before today.

You’ve been just Eddie Spaghetti’s girlfriend for so long — but now you’re Eddie Munson, up-and-coming rockstar and lead of Corroded Coffin’s girlfriend. The title carries a certain weight with it. You wear it with pride, but it weighs you down just the same.

What’s weird about tonight, though, is you’re not sharing Eddie with the rest of the world like you thought you would. He’s having to share you, because everyone and their goddamn brother’s been all over you all night.

Apparently, your coquettish rendition of The Bride of Frankenstein is making everyone else as crazy as it’s making him.

“God, go save your girlfriend, Munson,” Gareth jokes across the booth, laughing into his drink as he watches yet another guy stop you at the bar. “At least one of these assholes is gonna steal her from you.”

“She’s not property, dude. She can’t get stolen,” Jeff scolds from beside him, then flashes Eddie a sheepish glance. “But, yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor, Eds.”

Eddie pays no mind to his friends’ teasing — or the anger swirling like fire in the pit of his stomach.

“Nah. She’s alright…” he mumbles into the rim of his glass. The whiskey burns his throat going down. It doesn’t match the flame rising in his chest at the sight of his precious girl talking to some douchebag dressed like Elvis Presley.

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think you weren’t a hundred percent fine. These bozos aren’t trying anything with you — hell, they can barely make conversation with you. You’re just entertaining it because you’re the sweetest thing on the earth.

It’s laughable more than anything.

He’s humored by it all. Not jealous. Definitely not jealous.

“Yeah, who’s the famous one here, again?” Jeff’s girlfriend jokes. She’d left to go to the bathroom with you but came back alone when you got stuck with dollar-store Elvis. She points to the rest of them with a long, manicured finger. “It’s you guys, right? Because I can’t really tell.”

“Fuck off…” Eddie grouses, forcing a grin while the rest of them laugh.

You return then, with a drink in hand and a frown on your face at the sight of your suddenly grumpy boyfriend. “You okay?” you wonder quietly, smoothing down your skirt when you slide into the booth.

The boy moves over to make room for you. “‘M fine,” he answers with a mumble that makes you assume otherwise.

You reach a hand to his face, smoothing fluffy curls behind his ear. His cheek is warm against your palm. His faded seafoam Frankenstein paint job smears on your wrist.

“‘M sorry for taking so long. Some guy stopped me on the way over. I didn’t wanna be rude.”

Eddie shakes his head. Not a single part of him blamed you.

“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault.”

He’s full-on beaming now. Just because you called that asshole “some guy.” It feels good to hear you say that, to know that that’s all he is to you — just some fuckin’ guy. You won’t remember him later, if you still do even now.

Honestly, you’ll be lucky to remember your own name at the end of tonight.

“He get that drink for you?” Eddie asks, nodding to the frosted glass in your fist.

You shrug. “Yeah. He bought it, but I watched the bartender make it, so it’s fine.”

He nods, proud and sparkling with it. “Good.”

“What is it?” Gareth wonders, squinting across the table.

“An Old-Fashioned.”

“You hate whiskey,” Eddie laughs, licking the alcohol from the plush of his bottom lip.

“Well, yeah, but he asked what I liked, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him your favorite drink,” you ramble, all mousy, as you drag the falling sleeve of your corset back up your shoulder.

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, still a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

Eddie’s grinning something fierce beside you. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks he might burst.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest fuckin’ thing?” he singsongs with a rosy grin, wrapping the ripped sleeve of his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

Then he kisses you. Like, really kisses you.

It’s deep and intimate and sloppy. He opens your mouth with his and slithers his tongue inside. He tastes like bitter-sweet alcohol. You get drunk on him accordingly.

The rest of the table gags.

Your lips click audibly when Eddie pulls away. His smile glistens with a mixture of your saliva, lips a deeper shade of pink and slightly swollen. You wipe your chin with the back of your mouth — some of Eddie’s face paint comes with it.

“Where’s he now?” the boy asks with a mischievous squint in his deep chocolate eyes.

You shrug, totally uncaring and just wanting to be kissed. “I dunno.”

“Still at the bar,” Gareth answers for you, snickering to himself. “Giving your girl the sex eyes.”

Your face screws up in disgust. “Sex eyes?” you repeat, nose scrunched.

The group laughs.

“Think you can get him to buy you a round? You know, for the table?” Eddie asks you. His fingers trace shapes on your bare shoulder. You have to fight back a shiver.

“You want me to go talk to him?” you gape, like you must’ve heard him wrong.

“I want you to go get us drinks, sweet thing. Work your magic, you know?”

He’s not in the most right headspace right now. You know this. He’s still high on the post-show adrenaline and mellow on the alcohol. He’s jealous and in love with you and aflame with hatred for bootleg Elvis Presley. He gets rash when he’s raging, risky and unpredictable — a deadly concoction.

“Eds…” you hum quietly, brows scrunched like the idea pains you. “I don’t wanna make you mad…”

“You won’t make me mad, sweet thing,” Eddie assures, squeezing your shoulder. He presses a sanguine peck to your waiting mouth, then his voice gets all low. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll reward you after.”

He smacks one last kiss to your buzzing lips.

You blink at him until your senses return to you. You slide out from the booth and saunter back to Some Guy, who’s seemingly been waiting on your return this whole time.

There’s a sudden sway to your hips now, but it’s not for him.

It’s for Eddie.

The boy with the wild hair back at the booth, missing splotches of his face paint and wearing your lipstick knows this too.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

3K notes · View notes

idesofrevolution · 6 months ago

Text

A Night at the Kings Theatre

The Kings Theatre had been long abandoned by the city for over half a century, haunted by the memory of that fateful night in 1978. No one knows exactly what happened, but from tragedy arose legend. 143 people entered the auditorium that April night, prepared to see a terrifying new film just recently brought to America out of West Germany. "Der Kuss der Lust" was some sort of return to the German Expressionist Horror of the 1920's, a film scarcely heard of outside art houses in Berlin, and the hapless crowd came in droves. By the end of the showing, the police had arrived, the majority of patrons leaving the theatre in handcuffs or straightjackets. The city never released any information on the event, opting instead to board up the grand building and never speak of the subject again. That is, until 2024.

The group stared up at the Grandiose Marquee, excited for the long awaited return of their neighborhood movie palace. The four of them giddy with anticipation, they each had their tickets in hand: all found mysteriously in their post boxes that morning. Teddy stood with his mouth agape in awe at the sheer beauty of the facade, while Rod, Sabrina, and Pete gossiped amongst themselves.

"Yeah, it was literally in my mailbox this morning." Sabrina's characteristic monotone delivery making the two boys snicker.

"Girl I can tell you're sooo excited." Rod rolling his eyes at his roommate, well acquainted with her stoic persona. Pete stood looking down at his phone, trying to browse the theatre website to see what film they were about to be subjected to.

"All it says on here is 'Grand Opening Event.' It doesn't say what movie it is. OH! I bet it's that new one we've been seeing trailers all over the place about! The one with Ryan Gosling and Ross Lynch necking while Jennifer Coolidge just sits there!" Pete's boisterous and brash demeanor yet again shining through. A lack of volume control was a typical symptom of his theatre gay archetype, but nothing his friends were unprepared for.

"Shhhh. Look, they're letting people in!" Teddy hushed his little group, pointing to the tall gentleman at the door, now checking ticket stubs as the patrons slowly trickled inside. Teddy was merely along for the ride, roped into the outing by Rod, who was continuously concerned with his homebody lifestyle. "So we don't know what we're watching tonight, huh?" The three others shrugged.

"Does it really matter? It's something to do, Teddy..." Sabrina scoffing under her breath as they slowly inched toward the front doors. Teddy looked at the ticket man up ahead, his eyes sunken in and hunching over the audience members like Frankenstein's Monster.

"I bet he's in character for the movie! I've heard about this in class. They used to have all the staff act all spooky and improv with the crowd to get them in the mood for the movie! I bet it's a horror movie then!" Pete's enthusiasm was not exactly reciprocated as the boys shrugged and Sabrina rolled her eyes. Teddy felt a twinge of foreboding as they approached the towering man, each handing him their tickets. He stared at the group for a moment, the four tickets just hanging loosely from his grey fingers.

"Uh, are we good to go?" Rod stared at the man, whose head slowly turned down to meet his gaze before a demented grin crawled across his decrepit face. He bowed dramatically, waving his arm to usher them into the building, not a single utterance leaving his blue lips.

"Wow, impressive acting. Let's go, boys." Sabrina pushed the three through the open brass doors, Teddy's gaze having a hard time breaking with the strange man. His grin seemed to melt away almost instantly, returning to stonefaced indifference as he attended to the group behind.

"What the fuck was that?" Teddy turned to his group, Rod the only one taking the time to even acknowledge his query.

"Listen, they're just gettin' you in the mood! Like Pete was saying! Lighten up, man. I promise we'll take you home right after this, and you don't have to come out until next week. And we're doin' karaoke baby!" Rod nudged Teddy, whose response was a coy smile as he stared at his feet. He didn't want to be there, but for the sake of his friends he was making an effort.

The lobby was bright and opulent, the Beaux-Arts architecture perfectly coordinating with the beautiful exterior. Heavy red velvet drapes hung between the marble columns, a grand staircase likely bringing folks to the mezzanine, and a modest but well stocked concessions stand stood in the middle of the room. Historic film posters hung prominently against the walls: Casablanca, Dracula, Gone with the Wind, Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte, Rebel Without A Cause, Rebecca... all with bold 'COMING SOON' stickers plastered against the glass displays.

"I guess they're doing a whole retro movies vibe! Ooh! I wanna come back to see James Dean on the Silver Screen!" Pete jumped excitedly at the prospect, running over to the poster to take a picture as Sabrina walked to concessions to get popcorn. Rod and Teddy stood there, just admiring the grandeur of the space before the chandeliers began to flicker rather ominously.

"I think that means we need to find our seats." Teddy turned to look at Rod, who was squinting at the tickets to see what seat they'd all been assigned.

"We're in something called MEZ? What the fuck does that mean?" Teddy snatched the ticket, pointing to the top of the stairs in response.

"It means mezzanine, we're upstairs." Teddy motioned to Pete to rejoin them just as Sabrina returned with a gigantic barrel of buttery popcorn, munching away. The group ascended the stone stairs, avoiding brushing against the eager spectators as they rushed to their seats.

The auditorium was equally as grand. A massive brass chandelier hung prominently above the house, boxes lining the sides of the walls above row after row of velvet seats. The group made their way to their rows: Rod and Sabrina in row 3, Pete and Teddy in row 2 immediately in front. They took their seats as the vintage concessions ad played on the massive screen. Teddy heard Rod and Sabrina bickering about roomie problems he cared nothing about, as Pete blathered on about the history of the anthropomorphic dancing popcorn box. The mood in the room was one of excitement, of anticipation, yet for Teddy... it was off. The air felt stale and stagnant, the uncanniness of the movie palace long after it's prime seemed to hang differently in his mind. It felt like a time capsule, a liminal space where time had just frozen still, waiting to swallow it's naive visitors. Perhaps it was just the social anxiety, as Rod would likely dismiss it as. Yet, for whatever reason, Teddy sat on edge and alert. The lights began to dim, and a hush fell over the auditorium as previews began to roll for the films advertised in the lobby.

"Ooooooh! Bela Lugosi was so hot. Like seriously." Pete chimed with his typically chipper demeanor, stealthily stealing a handful of Sabrina's popcorn from behind him as they whispered deep in their argument. "Like can you even blame her for falling for him? I mean come on." Teddy just nodded along, peering around him at the crowd of exceedingly normal people watching the old trailer with glee.

The trailers ended with the screams of Bette Davis and Olivia de Havilland; Hush, Hush Sweet Charotte ending it's preview as the room was flooded in blackness. Teddy swore he could faintly hear whispers emanating from all around him in the dark cavern, before the room was once again illuminated as the black and white title card brightly shone on the canvas screen. The words were in a strange font, clearly not in English.

"Durr kusss durr loost... Ahh shit is this some kind of foreign film?" Sabrina sighed and reclined back into her chair, taking solace in the handfuls of popcorn she'd been shoveling into her mouth. Teddy recognized none of the actors names as they quickly flashed before his eyes, nor could he understand any of the words in the opening credits. He didn't speak German, but he couldn't wait to rub the hiccup in Rod's face: yet another social outing turning out completely unintended. Thankfully, as the camera opened onto some old Baroque village, as dialogue began, he was relieved to see English subtitles scurrying at the bottom of the screen.

He struggled to keep up with the narrative, as the translation may have been rather poor to begin with, instead opting to focus on the increasingly strange sets these actors were traversing. From what he could tell, there was a nobleman of some sort who found a village woman he'd fallen in love with. The book was promising powers of love beyond human comprehension, and in his hubris, the nobleman tries to cast a spell of lust on the beautiful young woman.

"I mean look at the set design, it's giving Nosferatu. NO! Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.... Oooh it's so cool!" Rod nudged Pete with his shoe, shushing him as neighboring patrons shoot dirty looks in their direction. Teddy became completely enveloped in the bizarre imagery rather quickly. The film was almost dreamlike in quality, walls seemed to jut out in different directions, the lighting was dim at best and only illuminating essential props or entrances and exits for characters. The sounds of the auditorium slowly faded away into the periphery, and all that could be perceived was the muffled voices of the actors.

Time was not a consistent factor in the film, it just meandered from scene to scene, with disconcerting Dutch angles increasing dread at every turn. What felt like one minute could easily have been twenty, but fortune momentarily smiled on the encapsulated young man. Teddy felt his stomach rumble, momentarily breaking him from his trancelike state to reach behind him into their popcorn bowl. He'd fully expected a wrist slap from Sabrina, but after three or four handfuls of popcorn, that moment never came. This moment of sheer confusion pulled him out of his tunnel vision, if only to reassure Sabrina that he'd pitch in for the popcorn. As he turned around, he was met with a sight he never could have ever imagined.

Sabrina's head was turned toward Rod, and for a moment, Teddy thought they were just whispering to eachother, continuing their asinine argument over who ate the pickle chips the night before. Though as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room around him, it became clearer just what it was they were doing. Her lips were planted firmly on Rod's, his left hand slowly sliding up her thigh. Teddy quickly swiveled his head back to the screen, eyes wide with shock. Rod was a flaming queer, just as he was and just as Pete was. Sure, Sabrina was straight, but he couldn't imagine her boyfriend being thrilled at the sight of Rod necking her in a movie theatre.

"Dude! Look at their facial expressions! You don't even need subtitles, you just need to see their faces!" Pete's voice hummed distantly, being completely ignored by all around him, doing little to aid Teddy's growing discomfort. The sounds of wet, sloppy kissing began to ring out from behind him, their breaths shallow and low. Teddy's eyes darted around him, the faded outlines of the other patrons not getting any clearer, nothing but the film there to distract him. Especially as the sounds of comingling tongues abruptly came to an end, only to quickly be replaced by another more terrifying sound.

*Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* *Slurp* "Ahhhh yeah, baby..." It was unmistakable. That was Rod... With each stifled moan, every snarling growl and wet slurp, he could hear his friend's voice growing lower and lower. His growls becoming louder... rougher... more animalistic. Teddy stared forward, beads of sweat starting to seep out of his forehead as he listened to the two most ill-matched people get it on directly behind him. He heard their pace quicken, Sabrina's slurps turning into gags as he heard more bizarre sounds arising from behind. Creaking... The sound of shifting leather, or maybe it was tearing fabric... Or the sound of an inflating balloon... Teddy felt his breath start to quiver, as he looked down between the armrests, seeing Rod's Chuck Taylors start to wriggle and writhe. His eyes widened, seeing the black canvas fabric start to flush white, growing larger and larger. He recognized the Nike symbol starting to protrude from the sides of the sneaker, and as Rod's voice growled into an enraptured release, the Converse were now a pair of large, beat up AirForce1's, covered vulgarities written in black Sharpie. Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, Sabrina giggling as he heard the sound of a waistband snapping back to place. It was silent for a moment, Teddy too nervous to look behind him, but desperately wanting to know what happened to his friends.

"Ahhhhhhh yeah, babe." There was a thud, Teddy peering down to his right and seeing the gigantic sneaker resting on his arm rest. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned his head. There, leaning forward with his hands on his head was Rod- or at least, someone that once was Rod. The tall, skinny little gay boy he'd befriended had been replaced with a gigantic, tattooed man. His hair cropped short, his muscles bulging, his shirt sitting on his thigh below his exposed torso now adorned with thick silver chains.

"Huhu, my bad, bro. When duty calls, am I right?" Rod grabbed onto his monstrous bulge, hiding behind the cum stained fabric of his white shorts. Teddy felt the blood rush from his head at the very sight of it. He watched as Sabrina, now equally scantily clad with tattoos, jet black hair, and devious grin mischievously slithered her hand beneath his waistband, grabbing ahold of his thick cock and slowly pumping. Rod winked at Teddy, turning again to Sabrina and kissing her once again.

Teddy whipped his head back to the screen, mortified and terrified in equal measure. He looked around him yet again, only seeing once again the dim outlines of the other patrons completely enveloped in the film before them. He turned behind him, doing his best to ignore the slimy sound of Rod's handjob to see the doors had staff members blocking each exit.

"Fuuuuuuck, bro. This shit is tight. Lemme tell you, man. I need this shit on Netflix." Teddy ignored Pete's typical unwarranted commentary, peering down over the house to see if the patrons below were also... different. Through the dark haze of the auditorium, he received his answer. The vast majority of the audience was completely enraptured with the film, not so much as flinching as they watched the nightmarish visions on screen. However, he'd started to notice the dim outlines of a couple people leaning in toward eachother. He couldn't pry his eyes away, so Teddy could only watch as he saw the patrons start to grope, kiss, and go down on eachother. A couple up front necking in the first row, two guys sliding their hands into eachother's pants in box 5, a group of what he'd assumed were bachelorettes just sliding their hands over eachother's breasts.

"Pete... Pete, we gotta get the fuck out of here." Teddy whispered to his friend, not taking his eyes off of the filth that was unraveling around them. Three seats over, one man was now bent over the railing of the balcony, three other men taking turns railing him right there in public to no outcry whatsoever. Teddy whipped his head toward Pete, still intently watching the film. "Pete! Pete, let's go!" He grabbed onto his wrist, feeling a strange rubbery texture tightly wrapped around it. He looked down, watching in terror as his friend's pristine watch slowly warped beneath his hands. Tightening until all that was left were three rubber bracelets in bright vivid colors.

Teddy's gaze slowly rose from his friend's hand as his fingernails slowly turned black. The rotund theatre gay was rapidly losing mass. His tight sweatervest growing looser and looser before his eyes. Fat seemed to shrink into nothingness as the sleeves of his shirt began to slowly rise up the length of his arms.

"Dude... I feel kinda funky, bro." The typical chipper demeanor was slowly vanishing, his eager eyes began to droop, as his short brown hair started to grow. The dark brown hairs quickly were flushed with a wash of bright blonde as it snaked out of his scalp down to the nape of his neck in sweaty, messy curls. His jawline was sharpening, his lips getting plump and thick.

"Pete... PETE!" Teddy screamed at the top of his lungs, not a single patron even flinching at the toil in his voice. "HELP! SOMETHING IS WRONG! SOMETHING IS VERY VERY WRONG!" Teddy shot up out of his seat, his ankle painfully hitting something hard. He peered down to see a heavily used skateboard resting under his friend's feet, absentmindedly rolling side to side as his loafers warped quickly into large, well worn white Vans. Teddy clamped his hand over his mouth as he followed the shifting clothes, up the khakis turning tight and ripped against lean thighs, up to the growing bulge and wet patch bulging out of his groin, up to the studded belt tightly wrapped around his lean waist.

"Heheh..." Pete's voice was growing duller, more coarse as the scent of sweat and cannabis began to waft off him. His sweatervest and shirt shrinking into a sweat stained white tee shirt, and as Teddy's gaze finally fell on Pete's face... he knew he was gone.

"Broooo this shit is sick... Oooh, man. I got a j in my pocket, man. I'll let you hit it if you let me..." Pete's fingers inched toward his belt buckle, slipping under the fabric of his jeans. "C'mon bro. Don't let Rod be the only one gettin' some dick attention tonight." He winked through the colored sunglasses hiding the red, stoned eyes behind.

"I..." Teddy nervously stood there as Pete unbuckled his pants, his twinky, sweaty hand sliding down into his underwear and wrapping around his slowly growing cock.

"Yeah, bro... Come let Petey take care of this." Teddy was lost in a moment of bliss as Pete slowly and tenderly stroked his cock in his pants, igniting the joint between his lips as he pumped.

"Whuh.... Wait... I uh... I need to go to the bathroom. Really bad. I'll be back, just give me a minute..." Pete smirked, letting his hand retract from Teddy's groin.

"Well, don't be too long, bro. My throat is waitin' for ya. Heheh." He stuck out his long tongue with a vulgar whip. Teddy wasted no time bolting toward the door, realizing only as he was chest to chest with the decrepit usher that the restrooms were merely to his right and left. The creepy man flashed the same unhinged smile, not budging an inch. Teddy burst into the men's room, leaning against the ceramic pedestal sink and peering into the mirror. He flipped the faucet, water flowing from the tap as he splashed it against his face. Then, he heard it. The creaking of leather. He looked down at his feet in horror as the New Balance sneakers he sported started to quiver and undulate.

"No... Noo... NOOO." He vigorously splashed his face with the cold water, rubbing his face like a maniac. It was only then that he started to feel the roughness around his upper lip and jaw. He couldn't bring himself to look into the mirror, as he felt hair sprout below his nose and stubble poking around his sharpening jawline. He could only peer down as he slowly began to accept his fate. The sneakers quickly stretched wide and big, a scuffed black leather replacing the grey suede as they shifted into a pair of heavy black harness boots.

His breath grew shallow and rapid, watching his sweatpants suction in tight around his inflating calves and thighs, turning slick and black. The comfortable grey Champion sweats were nearly skintight now, as if painted on atop his lengthening legs. The bottoms slipped into his boots and fastened beneath the damp fabric of his black socks, and the shiny black leather pants began to creak as his own bulge started to grow round and distended. Teddy gasped for air as he felt his shaft stretch out, a foreskin creeping over the head of his weeping cockhead, seeping into the sweat and cum inundated jockstrap now around his waist and thick ass.

"Ohhh... fuuuuuuuck." His fingernails turned black as tattoos began to sprawl from his knuckles up his swelling arms. The sweatshirt he wore felt tighter and tighter as his shoulders broadened and his torso stretched upward, taking on a lighter tone as little tears started to appear around the collar and along the seams. "Unnnnnnnnff" His voice started to dip lower and lower as the heavy sweatshirt's sleeves retracted in toward his shoulders. He felt himself sweating, wiping the sweat from his lowering brow and brushing the now frosted blonde tips of his mullet to the side. He looked at his hands, undeniably his own, yet completely unfamiliar; watching them as they slowly slipped lower toward his throbbing cock. He pulled up his weathered, well loved white tank top, the intricate ink across his rippled abs begging him to go lower and lower, his head throwing itself back as his fingers slipped into his creaking leather pants.

"Brooooooo you in here? What, didja fall in?" As he heard Petey's stoned ass voice echo off the tiled walls, he turned his head as he groped his slimy cock in his pouch. His three friends, vaguely familiar now, all sauntered in looking at him with knowing smirks. "Awww, Theo. I told ya not to get started without me."

Theo leaned on the sink, groping himself with a devilish smirk, beckoning his favorite throat goat to come gobble up his musky rod. Petey took a hit off the joint, handing it to Sabrina before getting on his knees before their bisexual bad boy. He opened his maw, Theo knowing right away what to do as he spit in Petey's eager mouth, and pulled out his throbbing dick. As the skater expertly wrapped his lips around his manhood, Theo turned to Rod and Sabrina, winking. Rod grinned.

"Yeah, boy. Gimme summa that, no homo though, bro." The 6'5 basketball stud sauntered over to his bro, planting a wet kiss onto Theo's supple, cigarette stained lips. As Sabrina took Rod's monstrous cock into her mouth, the four of them fucked in the bathroom surrounded by the stench of sex. Swapping partners at the drop of a hat, sucking face and dick with no hesitation, worshipping Theo & Rod's big smelly feet or railing Petey's tight little hole while Sabrina ate out Theo's sweaty rear. By the time the Usher came in to tell them the film was over, buckets of cum were splattered over the walls, floor, ceiling, and friends.

"Heh, c'mon guys. We can continue this back at my place." Theo wrangled his little posse of fuck buddies out of the bathroom, past the outrageous orgy slapping about in the auditorium. The four walked out of the Kings Theatre, stinking of cum and sweat in the night air, knowing fully well they'd be returning soon enough.

#male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #musk #gay transformation #bi transformation #gay to straight #gay to bi #bad boy #transformation curse #badboy #tattoos

323 notes · View notes

iovetecchou · 1 year ago

Text

Three Is A Crowd ⧸ Geto Suguru & Kenjaku.𖥔 ݁ ˖

༞ Contains...! smut. dubcon, manipulation, corruption kink, vaginal and anal sex, lube, prep, fingering, multiple orgasms, dumbification, choking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (don't practice this irl)

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 2,729 words.

༞ author's note: since its not exactly kenjaku's body but he's the one using suguru's "parts" the smut from his pov is written *slightly* in third person!

kinktober masterlist!

You mourned the loss of your long-term boyfriend, Suguru. So, when he showed up on your doorstep, looking like Frankenstein's monster; to say you were surprised was an understatement.

“Suguru—! I thought you were…”

“Shh… I know darling, I know. I’m here now.”

Was all he said, before enveloping you in his arms. It was really him; in the flesh. Suguru carried the same warmth he always radiated, one you grew to memorize and adore. But, his grip was… different. Brash, and thoughtless.

In your gut, you knew something was off, but you brushed those feelings aside. Just having Geto back in your arms like this was more than you could have ever asked for. But, what you didn’t realize was that your beloved boyfriend was long gone— and the man standing before you was nothing but a monster in the shape of your Suguru.

You were hesitant, and Kenjaku began to pick up on that. All of his advances toward you were rejected or reciprocated with apprehension. He’s been pretending to be your doting boyfriend for months now, and yet you still haven’t warmed up to him.

Kenjaku thought someone as foolish as you would have fallen for it by now. But, that small voice in his head, the one that still remained after Suguru's passing kept telling him, “She’ll never believe you’re me. You don’t touch her like I used to.”

It was evident that you were needy and craved your boyfriend more and more as time passed. You only went as far as kissing ever since Suguru showed back up in your life. You couldn’t bring yourself to do more. Something felt wrong about this whole ordeal, and the black stitchings along your beloved’s forehead were a constant reminder of that.

One evening, Kenjaku’s patience went right out the window. You kept denying him and he decided, Suguru was right. You wouldn’t ever believe him to be your beloved. So if he couldn’t pretend anymore, then there was no reason to keep up this little charade.

His hand ran up your thigh as you both sat in bed. You were wearing your comfiest nightgown as you read a book you've been fixating on as of late. You jumped slightly from the sudden contact but didn’t give it much thought as you continued to indulge in your book. However, when your lover’s hand trailed higher up your thigh, dipping underneath your nightgown and fumbling with the hem of your panties; you couldn’t ignore his touch any longer.

“Suguru, not tonight…” You squeaked out. Placing your book down beside you, letting your eyes trail up to his. His expression was neutral, making it nearly impossible for you to read.

“That’s not my name.” You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion at his words before blurting out, “What?”

The man before you let out a maniacal laugh, still fumbling with your panties as he retorted, “I said, that’s not my name. I may look like your precious Suguru, but he is long gone.”

Your blood ran cold in your veins as you backed yourself up against the headboard of the bed. Trying to put as much distance between you and the man who didn’t look like a stranger; but entirely was. “I don’t understand—“

“My true name is Kenjaku, and I’m using your little boyfriend here as a vessel. I thought you would eventually warm up to me, but it’s been months now— and you have not. I guess Suguru was right about that, you never would believe I was him.”

Kenjaku leaned in closer, nose nearly brushing yours as you cowered in fear. “What do you mean Suguru was right? How could you have spoken to him if you… you…”

“You mean, If I hopped inside his body even after he was dead? Hmm… can I let you in on a little secret, darling? He’s still somewhat present. Right… in… here!”

Kenjaku tapped his forehead in between his words, accentuating his point. “But, how is that even possible?”

You blurted out. Nervous eyes scanned over his face for any trace of your Suguru. “I don’t exactly know myself, but this is the first in all my years that a vessel has resisted me even after death. But, Suguru is here all right. So stop resisting him, stop resisting us. Stop resisting me.”

Kenjaku captured your lips to seal his words. Your eyes flew open at the suddenness of the kiss. Your hands pushed Suguru's chest, hard. Pulling away from the intimate embrace with a gasp. “Darling… stop fooling yourself. I know you’re needy, do you think I’m some kind of idiot?”

He sighed, moving Suguru's other hand underneath your nightgown. Kenjaku tugged your panties down your thighs, then your calves, before pulling them off your legs entirely. “I’ve caught you pleasing yourself countless times now, not being able to get yourself off properly with your puny fingers. They just don’t feel as good as these, do they, darling?”

You gasped as Suguru's middle and index finger slid through your folds. Kenjaku smirked at the feeling of your arousal coating Suguru’s digits. Your body gave you away. “See? You’re all pent up. Don’t you think Suguru would want me to take care of his precious girlfriend’s every need? Why don’t you let me do that for you, darling? Stop rebelling. Give in to temptation.”

A loud wine escaped your lips as Kenjaku bullied both fingers inside your dripping cunt. Your hips lifted off the bed from the pleasurable feeling of being stretched out by your beloved’s fingers. You didn’t think you would ever be able to feel this type of pleasure again, you gave up hope after Suguru’s passing. But, here he was—physically. Pleasuring you once more.

It felt the same, but not. That gentleness that Suguru carried for you was long gone. Kenjaku fucked Suguru’s fingers into you with a skilled, yet brutal force. It felt amazing nonetheless, but you were so confused about how you were supposed to feel. “Atta girl… that’s it, keep moaning for me just like that. You missed these fingers huh, sweetheart? I can tell by the way you’re clenching around them.”

You couldn’t deny yourself any longer. You needed this— you needed him. Even if your Suguru wasn’t fully here with you anymore, just knowing that there was a tiny trace of him still left was enough to justify this in your mind. You leaned into the man’s touch, pushing your hips impossibly closer to Suguru’s thick fingers. “Such an obedient little thing. Suguru thinks I’m being too rough with you right now, but I’d say you like the harsh treatment I’m giving you.”

Kenjaku chuckled wickedly as he picked up his pace. Curling both fingers upward, slamming into your sweet spot perfectly. You could feel your orgasm approaching and fast. You barely had a moment to hold back before you were grabbing the man by his silky black locks. Pulling him in for a deep kiss. You whined against his all too familiar lips as you came around Suguru’s deft digits. Your thighs shook as you rode out your high, eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy as Kenjaku shoved Suguru’s tongue past your parted lips. Deepening the kiss.

You whined against your beloved’s lips as you felt Kenjaku pull Suguru’s fingers out of your twitching hole. You were too lost in the kiss to realize the man before you was fumbling with his boxers, ridding himself of them. Kenjaku pushed them down Suguru’s thighs, just enough for his cock to spring free. Kenjaku couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss. Of course, this arousal he was feeling was partially his own, but for the most part, it was that trace of Suguru getting so worked up after Kenjaku made you cum so hard.

You pulled away from the kiss with a loud whine as you felt Kenjaku bully Suguru’s cock into your needy pussy. He let out a deep grunt as he buried Suguru’s length to the hilt inside you. Balls kissing the underside of your pussy as Suguru’s cock throbbed wildly inside you.

“Suguru!” You cried out, pushing your hands against his lower abs as Kenjaku began fucking into you roughly. You tried to push him back slightly from the sudden harsh thrusts, but it was futile. The man towering above you was relentless. “Ah, ah, ah… Suguru isn’t the one fucking you right now. It may be his fingers, his hips, his cock… but I am the one making you cry out in pleasure. Don’t moan his name again, or I’ll stop. Scream mine instead.”

Kenjaku demanded, never once letting up on his brutal thrusts. You could feel another orgasm sneaking up on you and the way this man kept prodding your g-spot with each rough snap was becoming increasingly too difficult to keep up with. You threw your head back as you clenched tightly around Suguru’s cock, pulling another grunt out of Kenjaku. He could tell you were close with the way your greedy pussy kept sucking Suguru’s cock in deeper.

Kenjaku brought Suguru’s fingers back to your cunt. Relentlessly circling the pad of his thumb around your puffy clit. That was all it took for you to topple over the edge once more tonight. “Ke-Kenjaku!” You cried out, toes curling and thighs twitching as you lost yourself in pleasure. You squirted all over Suguru’s lower abs as Kenjaku's thrusts began to slow down. A low whistle could be heard from the man above you as you made a mess all over Suguru’s cock and the bed beneath you.

Your mind was dizzy, you couldn’t remember the last time you came that hard. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as you let out a small hiss when you felt Kenjaku pull Suguru’s cock out of your spent pussy. You felt the bed spring up slightly, assuming Kenjaku had gotten off the bed. But when the bed dipped again a few minutes later, signaling you that the man had returned your head lulled forward. You slowly peeled your eyelids open, you noted that the man before you was now fully undressed and still as hard as ever.

You jolted forward when you felt a cold wet digit circle around your butthole. “You ever been fucked in this hole, sweetheart?” Kenjaku questioned, slowly pushing Suguru’s index finger into your tight ass. You gasped from the foreign sensation scoring your bottom lip with your teeth as you shook your head no. “S-Suguru and I promised we would save… that one… for our wedding night.” You confessed, your mind too hazy to filter your words after your last orgasm.

Kenjaku smirked wickedly from your pure and honest words. He squirted a bit more lube down between your parted thighs, letting it settle where he was plunging Suguru’s thick finger into your virgin hole, before adding a second one. Gliding into your ass with ease from the additional lubricant. You assumed he grabbed it from your night table when he got up to undress himself entirely only moments ago.

You let out little whines as Kenjaku picked up the pace. Stretching out your tight hole perfectly as Suguru’s cock continued to throb with need. This went on for a few minutes more before Kenjaku’s patience wore thin. “I think you’re ready for me, darling. Spread your legs some more for me, yeah?” With your mind still drunk off pleasure, you did exactly what the stranger asked of you. Spreading your thighs nice and wide for him.

Kenjaku grasped Suguru’s cock firmly, prodding the head of it against your puckered hole before pushing in, slowly to start. You both moaned in unison from the overwhelming new sensation. Kenjaku chuckled as he pushed into your ass inch by inch with a little bit of reluctance. You tilted your head in confusion when Suguru’s hips kept jolting back, not entirely allowing Kenjaku to fill you to the hilt. “What’s wr-wrong?” You babbled out, bringing your hands up to grasp Suguru’s waist in an attempt to pull him deeper into you.

“Seems as though your beloved Suguru is against the idea of me fucking you in this hole. He’s mad that he wasn’t able to do it first.” Kenjaku couldn’t hide his smirk as he uttered those words, finally filling your ass to the brim with Suguru’s cock. You let out a sharp gasp once the man above you began to fuck into your tight little hole. Kenjaku started off shockingly slow, pulling back until only the head of Suguru’s cock was being squeezed by the tight ring of muscle, before slowly stuffing you full of your beloved’s cock once more.

But once you got used to the pleasure of him fucking into your ass, his pace became brutal. Kenjaku’s thrusts were sharp and calculated, leaving you breathless. You tried to close your eyes and imagine that Suguru was actually the one in control of his own body right now, that he was the one fucking you so good. You imagined that this was your wedding night with him, finally taking things to the next level just as you promised ages ago. A small tear slipped past your lash line and down your cheek from the thought alone.

Kenjaku halted in his movements. The sound of him coughing and choking caused your eyes to shoot wide open. You gasped slightly as you saw Kenjaku seemingly strangling himself. He brought one of Suguru’s hands up to the one that was wrapped around his own throat. Kenjaku tried to pull it away, in an attempt to ease up that feeling of not being able to breathe. But what shocked you the most was the chuckle that followed after Kenjaku realized his attempt was futile.

“Oh, amazing! Suguru really does not like this at all. He went so far as to fight back against his own body— how wonderful!” Kenjaku exclaimed, you whined as you felt Suguru’s cock throb from where it still was nestled inside your clenching hole. There was no doubt this rush of arousal was all Kenjaku’s. Perhaps the man above you enjoyed this resistance from Suguru a lot more than he should have.

Guilt pitted in your stomach from the realization that your beloved Suguru was resisting Kenjaku’s actions this severely. But that guilt was quickly replaced with arousal when Kenjaku finally freed himself from Suguru’s tight grasp. Opting to bring his hands down to your pussy instead. Kenjaku inserted one of Suguru’s fingers inside your dripping cunt, plunging in and out of you wickedly. Kenjaku brought Suguru’s other hand to play with your swollen clit, rubbing the pad of his thumb in quick tight circles.

Before you knew it you were cumming for the third time tonight. Triggering Kenjaku’s own prolonged release. The man above you groaned lowly as he came inside your tight ass. The clenching coming from both your holes as you came all over Suguru’s fingers proved to be too much for Kenjaku. He slowed down his movements substantially as he reveled in the feeling of filling your tight ass to the brim. You could feel the cum dribbling out of your ass and onto the bedsheets below you amid your post-orgasm haze. Your breath was labored as your thighs twitched wildly from the intense feeling of Kenjaku cumming in your ass.

Your eyelids felt heavy, you closed them slowly. Letting sleep envelop you before you could even stop it. The conflicting mix of emotions and pleasure took a toll on your mental and physical. Kenjaku smirked as your breath grew heavy and small snores escaped you. He slowly pulled Suguru’s cock out of your spent hole. Admiring the way the last of his cum trickled out of you. Another whistle escaped him as he brought one of Suguru’s hands up to push some of the silky locks out of his face.

“I told you she would give in one way or another. She can’t resist her lover's body even if you aren’t the one in control anymore, Suguru. Next time, I’ll cum in her pussy. Breed her the way you never had a chance to do. Oh, and that part about saving her asshole until your wedding night was quite adorable. Too bad you never had a chance to get married before your puny life came to an end.”

HUGE shout out to @stinkyme for discussing this idea with me and helping me out of my writer's block i love you <3

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut #geto smut #getou smut #getou suguru smut #suguru getou smut #kenjaku smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #suguru smut

1K notes · View notes

emmafrostdefender · 5 months ago

Text

a fine line between god and animal | logan howlett x fem reader

chapter 1 - biting the apple | masterlist | read the prologue first

two new mutants arrive at the mansion.

i am churning this thing out and i have a very specific direction that i'm going to take it. the story does not really follow the canon plot because that would be boringgg. trust me, i know where this bus is heading. i hope you stay along for the ride! figuratively and literally! wink wink

warnings: cursing, religion, religious trauma, fighting, canon typical violence, 5.5k words

━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━

“Before you all leave, I want to give you food for thought. One of the heaviest themes of Frankenstein revolves around the idea of nature versus nurture. Is the creature inherently evil, or was his treatment by society what turned him into a monster?” You pose the question to your students as class comes to a close.

The similarities to your own existence is not lost on you. You hope the metaphor clicks in their minds as it did yours when you first read the classic novel. Charles made it assigned reading when he taught comparative literature at the school. When you were old enough, you took the job. And you were inspired by some of his lessons, of course.

“We will be discussing this theme next week, so those of you that haven’t done your reading…” You don’t finish your sentence, but make a face that communicates all they need to know.

Your students leave the classroom and you slump against your desk. Despite your outside calm, inside your thoughts are racing.

Scott and Ororo aren’t back yet and you feel as if you could break something. Or a million somethings.

The reasonable part of you knows that if something bad happened, Charles would know and tell you immediately. But the unreasonable part of you wants to drain your energy source to find them. To sneak your mind around the globe until you pick up on their footsteps crunching the ground or their signature heartbeats sending pulses into the air.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet are carrying you to the door that leads to the underground base of the X-Men. You’re going stir crazy.

Earlier in the day, before classes started, you assisted Jean in refining her powers. She wasn’t able to move a car with her mind, but she managed to start the engine without a key in the ignition. To you, that seemed more impressive. To the professor, it was exactly what he didn’t want. He wanted her to control her powers.

That word again. Control.

His reactions to Jean’s issues made you all the more wary to reveal your own struggles. With the recent revelation of Magneto’s scheme to abduct you, hesitancy bubbled up in your chest at adding anything more to Charles’ metaphorical plate. You would just be a burden.

Exiting the elevator, you enter the completely metal hallway, something of a labyrinth to newcomers. Your shoes echo against the metal and you look from left to right. No one else graces your path as you walk to the training room. There is another one upstairs that the students use when training with Scott, but you personally prefer this one. Far away from onlookers.

Your abilities don’t necessarily lend themselves to you having any physical prowess, but you managed to get trained up quite well in your years at the mansion. “The metaphysical is very much so connected to the physical. The health of your powers could very well depend on the health of your body,” Charles told you long ago.

With nothing to do but wait, you change into the clothes from your locker and wrap your knuckles with tape. The large room is empty and you approach a punching bag. You begin.

The rhythm you find is steady and fast. Hit after hit, blow after blow. The bag swings on its chain, bouncing back and forth between your hands. You punch and punch and punch, feeling anger build in your system. In your mind's eye, you see the bloody heart that was stolen from your chest. You see the chains holding you down. You see your mother’s face, staring at you in disgust. You see vines. Thousands of vines, each reaching to wrap themselves around your body, your arms, your legs, your neck. They rip the cross from your necklace, leaving a stinging brand there. You see your father’s lifeless form.

And you feel your skull starting to split open when a voice says your name.

You nearly scream at the intrusion and your head flies around. “Holy shit, Jean! I could’ve killed you!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she says with hesitancy. She’s looking at you like you’re a wounded animal about to lash out. Her eyes flit to the punching bag over your shoulder.

You look at it and gape at your handiwork. The bag ripped at the seams and sand spilled from the tears onto the ground.

“Imagining Scott’s head?” She jokes, but it sounds strained. You hardly hear it.

You still stare at the punching bag, not quite sure what to make of this. You losing control was as infrequent as pigs flying, so…never.

A soft hand touches your shoulder. “Are you okay?” Jean asks so caringly.

You rip your gaze from the bag and look at her. You change your expression from one of near tears to one of slight amusement. “Must’ve gotten a little too enthusiastic.”

She analyzes you quickly, so quick you might’ve missed it if you didn’t know her so well. “I wanted to let you know that the jet is on its way back. They were able to locate the mutants.” You feel something in your chest relax. “Not in record time, though.”

You smirk. “Of course not. They didn’t have me.”

“Can you come help me prep the bay for when they get here?”

You nod. “Just let me change and I’ll meet you there.”

She turns to walk away and you watch her leave. Your gaze drops to your hands, where the tape did nothing to prevent the bruises forming around your knuckles. Looking at the clock hanging above the entrance, you realize two hours have passed. It’s nearly ten o’clock.

As you enter the locker room, you swear you can still feel burning skin where your cross lays.

You enter the loading dock of the jet in your regular attire and are greeted by Jean and the professor. They seem to be in deep discussion when you arrive, but snap their heads up the second they sense you coming. You can tell they were talking about you.

You plaster a smile on your face and say sarcastically, “Looks like they managed to find them without me, after all.”

“They would’ve been here an hour after they left if you were with them, I’m sure,” Jean says with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Obviously.”

You shift your attention to Charles, who has begun using a computer to track the jet’s movements. Jean starts working the switchboard. You ask, “How many mutants did they pick up?”

His gaze does not move from the computer. “Two. A young girl and an older man. They were on separate paths until they met and started traveling together.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What made you think to bring them here?”

Charles has always been slightly particular when choosing the people to bring to his school. And even more hesitant to bring fully grown adults. At your question, his eyes shift to yours. “Why did I bring you to this school?”

You blink.

“To offer you protection. To offer you safety from a world that hurt you repeatedly. And to help you understand your abilities and use them for good. Not just to teach you Latin and calculus,” he adds with a smile.

You nod, but still have a lingering question. “But why--”

He cuts you off, “Why am I bringing an adult man to our mansion as well?” He pauses. “Because he is extremely powerful. That kind of power can either be used toward the greater good, or harnessed for evil.”

By Erik.

“I see,” you say, hand mindlessly playing with your necklace.

Charles returns to the computer and says to you and Jean, “Get ready, they are nearly here.”

You are usually a part of the retrieval missions, making you less used to assisting with arrivals. However, you bring out two stretchers from the medical room and place them neatly by the door after getting a call from the jet. “They were in a rough fight with one of the members of the Brotherhood and the man is out cold. We think he has regenerative abilities so he isn’t badly injured, but the girl was with him when they got into a car accident. She’ll need attention. She’s jarred, but not unresponsive,” Ororo says.

Another of your jobs on the team is designated medic. You have innate knowledge of the human body and medical herbs because of your powers. It was never something you questioned when you were younger. If you scratched your arm or busted your lip open, you would skip into the woods and find something natural to heal yourself. Still, you begged Charles not to assign you to teaching biology. You despised the subject.

The ceiling of the hangar opens to reveal a velvety night sky. You feel the jet before you see it, the push it has on the trees around the mansion tingle your fingertips. The trees' movements stir your power source in your stomach, a warm, buttery feeling. The sleek aircraft lowers gently into the bay, your hair being pushed over your shoulders by the air movement. You feel relief at the sight of your friends returning from the mission; they exit the jet and you smile. Your grin droops at the sight of their expressions.

“We need you to look over these two, stat,” Scott says with urgency.

You hurriedly bring the stretchers to the jet’s ramp and enter the main compartment with Scott and Ororo. Inside, they point you to a young girl, maybe sixteen years old, with brown hair and a soft face sitting in one of the seats. The two of them work to remove the man who sits slouched over in one of the front seats. The way they grunt, you’d think he weighs a ton.

The girl’s hands are wrapped tightly around the straps keeping her to the chair. When you approach, she jumps and stares at you with terrified eyes. “Hi, honey,” you say calmly. You introduce yourself. “I’m going to be taking care of you, okay? I just need you to undo these straps.”

She shakes her head tightly. “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” You ask.

She thinks between the two options and asks, “Am I safe?”

Your heart breaks. Upset coils in your stomach at the thought of all the people who have hurt this little girl. “Yes. You’re safe here.”

She seems to think this over and makes her decision. Her hands shakily unlatch themselves from the straps and move to unbuckle herself. You reach to help her, but she flinches. “Don’t touch me, please,” she says with desperation.

Your hands retract immediately.

“I just, it’s my…” she struggles with the words. “I hurt people when they touch me.”

You nod in understanding. That must have been a terrifying revelation for her. “That’s okay. We’ll get you all sorted out here. You are okay.”

She seems to relax a bit. You look over your shoulder and see your two friends lugging the man down the ramp and rolling him onto the stretcher. If this were any other scenario, you would laugh at Scott for struggling so much.

You turn back to the girl and say, “And what’s your name?”

“Marie-- I mean, Rogue.” The way she says it makes you think she is still trying out the name for size.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Rogue.” You look her over and ask, “Are you able to walk or do you need help?”

She has undone the straps and sits a bit more forward in her chair. “I think I can stand.”

Rogue puts weight on her leg as she moves to stand up, but winces at the feeling and immediately sits back down.

“Can I touch your clothes or is that also a problem?”

“You can. It’s just my skin.”

You sling her arm over your shoulder, careful not to touch any exposed skin, and help her out of the chair. “Just put your weight on me, hon’.”

She does as you say and leans against you completely. When you have exited the jet, you help her sit on the stretcher. The others have left, presumably to attend to the man. Charles is the only one left and he moves his wheelchair over to greet the young girl. “What is this place?” she asks after his introduction.

“It’s a place for people like you. And me. And her.” He points to you and you feel yourself smile. “It’s somewhere safe.”

Your gloved hand moves carefully over Rogue’s legs, feeling for any fractured bones or torn skin invisible to the eye.

She’s been relatively quiet for the duration of her examination, but she asks, “So, what can you do?”

You look up at her and grin. “I can do a lot of things.” You stand and walk to the shelves of potted plants on the wall to your right. You hold up one of the more pathetic looking plants and say, “See how this one is all wilted?”

Rogue nods.

You pull your glove off with your teeth. “Watch this.”

Once your hand rests delicately against the plant’s stem, its wilting flowers perk up. A lush green color returns to its body, becoming perfectly healthy again. You look over at her and her mouth is gaping at the sight. “But why do you keep all the plants here if they’ll die without you?”

You put the plant back in its place and slip your glove back on. As you make your way back to the examination table, you say, “That’s exactly why. The professor used it as a tool to help me understand my importance here. To help me distinguish between the big parts of my powers and the smaller, more delicate parts.” You shrug as you grab some medical tape meant to alleviate and correct sprains. “I also like having company when I’m down here.”

“Company?” she asks when you kneel before her again to start wrapping her ankle.

“They talk to me,” you say, slightly mischievously.

Her mouth gapes again. “So, that’s your mutation? Talking to plants?”

“It’s a lot deeper than that. The Earth and I are like two sides of the same coin. Through our connection, I can track people if they are grounded. I can grow and heal things, but also kill them. I can create beauty, but also take it away. And I’m recently starting to realize I’m much more connected to humans than I thought.”

She considers this as you finish wrapping her ankle.

You laugh a little. “Most of those are Professor X’s words, not mine.”

Charles arrives after a few minutes of comfortable silence, asking Rogue to come with him. You give her a small smile and tell her, “Make sure to drink those herbs with water once every day. It’ll help the pain.”

She gives you a tentative smile back.

Before she leaves, you squeeze her gloved hand. “You’re gonna do great.”

Once the two of them are gone, you decide it's time to check on Jean and the man. She took him to the laboratory where digital scans of mutants’ brains and bodies could be completed. You walk down the hall and enter the door to the left, seeing Jean in her white lab coat. She is analyzing what looks to be brain waves on the monitor in front of her. “Oh, good,” she says when she turns to see you. “I wanted you to take a look at him. See if there’s anything I’m missing.”

You approach the table where he lays and take your first real look at him.

He is shirtless to allow the nodes and wires access to his chest. You scan over his body, seeing no obvious outer injuries. His face is calm in his induced state of comatose, but etched with what seems like a permanent line between his eyebrows. You have the urge to smooth it with your thumb.

“His name is Logan Howlett. He has extremely impressive regenerative abilities.”

Your eyes continue to study the ridges of his face. “Is that his mutation?” The thought of Charles saying he is a very powerful mutant crosses your mind.

“That’s part of it. Once he wakes up, we'll give him a chance to tell us more. And then we’ll do a full body scan; Charles thinks there’s something else to him. He’s not wrong. Logan’s brain activity is far different from anyone I’ve ever seen,” she says in slight awe.

You continue to gaze at him. There is something else to him. Something you can’t quite place.

“Could you check his vitals for me? I didn’t notice anything strange, but I want to be sure,” Jean asks.

Hesitancy fills your body. For some reason, you don’t want to touch him. Some sort of dread pits in your stomach. Something will happen.

Despite your body’s strange resistance, you nod curtly. You approach the table and lean over him. His scent fills your nose. It’s woodsy and smokey, all mixed with something metal that twinges your nostrils. You close your eyes and inhale, pressing your hand to his chest. In a second, you’ve been pulled to him, a vice grip around your wrist. Jean yells and starts pulling at your shoulders. Your body goes alive and you twist your arm around and headbutt him, causing him to loosen his grip on you. However, the moment your skull collides with his, you nearly pass out from the impact. It feels like he’s made of metal.

“Oh, my God,” you groan, collapsing to the floor. Your head is throbbing.

Before you or Jean can react, he’s jumped off the table. It looks like he’s grabbed six knives and placed them between his fingers. “Where the hell am I?” he shouts.

Jean holds up her hands, but you’re still recovering on the floor, holding your forehead in your hands. Jesus, fuck. You hope He will excuse your language.

“You’re at Xavier’s School for Mutants in New York. We aren’t going to hurt you,” Jean says calmly. “Well, not anymore.” Her eyes flick down to you and you make a face.

“It wasn’t my fault he fucking attacked me,” you say with narrowed eyes. You glance at him, annoyance replacing the pain that had swept across your forehead. “What’s with the claws?” you ask, now realizing that what you thought were knives were actually thin metal spikes protruding from between his knuckles.

He stares at you, chest heaving. Then back at Jean. Fury clouds his eyesight, but you know there’s fear in there, too.

“Look, we’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe here,” Jean says again. “I just need you to calm down and we can talk.”

The throbbing has eased and you make your way to stand.

Something like a sarcastic grin falls on his lips. “Oh, sure, we can talk.”

You position yourself, readying for a fight. “Get Scott,” you say to Jean quietly.

“You sure?” she whispers back.

“Yeah, I’ve got this.”

She looks between the two of you for a moment, then runs out of the room. You hear her shoes echo in the hallway.

“You really want to do this, bub?” he asks in a voice so quiet, you nearly miss it.

You watch him carefully. You know that you’ll never beat him, but you can keep him occupied until reinforcements arrive. “Do you really want to do this?” you respond with a grin.

Something lights in his eyes, something thrilling that makes your heart pound. He pounces, jumping over the table, his claws aiming for your throat. You dodge the attack, rolling to the side. You are back on your feet in an instant, crouching low to the ground. “Got anything else in you, big boy?” you tease, grin spreading wider at his fuming expression.

He yells, running at you with a speed you wouldn’t think him capable of. He shoves you to the ground with retracted claws and you grunt at the impact, but kick his legs out from under him, causing him to fall to the floor as you crawl away. He yanks your leg, making you stumble once more. You kick with all your might, but he won’t let go. Thinking you might be the stupidest person alive, you let him drag you so you’re pinned beneath him. “Sexy,” you say with a wink.

You can feel his steady heartbeat this close. "You're annoying," he hisses. You see his eyes drop to the cross around your neck and take that as your opportunity to kick him in the groin. He grunts and his hold around you weakens. You shove him off of you and stand to make a move for the door. You don’t think he’ll kill you, but you don’t want to take that chance.

Before you reach the door, an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you harshly against a solid body. You hadn’t noticed before, but he’s tall. Very tall. “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispers in your ear.

It sends a thrill down your spine.

“Are you always this friendly?” you whisper back, hand coming up to touch his arm. Your fingers hardly wrap around his forearm.

In the blink of an eye, he has detached himself from you, falling to the floor. Your fingers tingle from the use of your power, slowing his heart rate enough that he would go unconscious, but not enough to kill him. With his regenerative abilities, though, you assume he’ll be back on his feet in about five minutes. You hardly ever use that ability, finding it invasive. With this man, however, you think your actions are justified.

You nudge his leg with your foot when Jean and Scott come running in. “Holy shit, you took him out yourself?” Scott asks incredulously.

“I just slowed his heart rate so that he wouldn’t break all the bones in my body. I appreciate your faith in me, though, Scott,” you say, wiping your brow.

He approaches the man on the floor, coming to stand beside you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. He nearly broke my skull, though.”

Scott raises a brow.

“How are we going to get him adjusted if he won’t speak to us without starting a fight?” Jean asks as she starts to fix the state of the room.

“I think our best bet is to leave him alone,” you say.

Scott looks at you. His visor blocks his eyes, but you can tell they are looking at you as if you are crazy. “Leave him alone? He’ll wreak havoc trying to find a way out.”

You shrug. “I think there’s someone who might be able to convince him to stay.”

“Better than getting a face full of claws,” Jean says, glancing at his limp body.

Exhaustion washes over you when you take the elevator back upstairs. It’s three in the morning and the events of the day are finally hitting you square in the chest.

You slump against the metal railing of the elevator, relishing in the silence. Jean and Scott stayed with Logan to put him in a state of deep sleep so that he wouldn’t go stalking around the mansion at night. You could imagine how some poor child would react to running into such a large and imposing man in the middle of the night. It would be terrifying.

You run your fingers through your hair and pinch the bridge of your nose. His smell lingers around you, crowding your space.

What a prick.

Fighting you like that when all you wanted to do was help him? What was he going to do? Kill you?

A part of you wants to believe that he wouldn’t do that, but another part of you understands that he would’ve done anything to get out of here.

Logan.

You test the name out on your tongue. You wonder if he has another name, too. Something all of his enemies know by heart.

Deciding that that was enough thinking for the night, you shut your brain off and exit the elevator. You make your way to your bedroom and collapse on your bed, sleep hitting you like a bus.

You wake, body aching and head throbbing. Although you managed to escape the fight with no outer wounds, your body protests as you remove yourself from your bed. Thank God it’s Saturday.

Thankfully, your mind allowed you a break from the night terrors that plagued you so frequently, instead replacing them with dreams of walking through a forest. As you walked farther into the dank, the trees began to die, but you woke before anything else could happen.

You get ready for the day and make your way downstairs. In the kitchen, you see Ororo sitting at the counter with a mug of coffee in her hands. Before you can voice your question, she says, “There’s some in the pot.”

You grin and pour the coffee into your bright pink mug along with the creamer that sits by the pot. Scott calls the shade an affront to the color pink. “So…” you start.

“He isn’t awake yet. Charles thinks he’ll be up in an hour or so.”

Relief slumps your shoulders and you take a seat across from her, moving the coffee around in your mug before you take a sip. “He is crazy strong, Ororo,” you scoff. “It felt like his skeleton was made of metal. And his claws…” You shake your head.

“Charles thinks he’ll be useful to us.”

“I know. I just hope he calms down a bit.”

Ororo gives you a sheepish smile. “You have to admit, he is handsome, though.”

You laugh. “That’s the impression he gave you?”

She shrugs. “I might have a different one if I had to fight him.”

You contemplate her statement. You suppose he was handsome, but it didn’t startle you when you first saw him. It was the kind of beauty that creeps up and you don’t realize it until you’ve been staring at them for too long. He was rugged, yes, but there was something enticing about his looks. A boyish quality. You remember the smirk that donned his face when he challenged you to a fight.

You shake your head. “Yeah, he definitely made an interesting impression.”

The two of you leave the kitchen once some of the older students begin filing in, many making their own breakfasts instead of eating the provided meal with the other students in the dining room. “Are we training today?” you ask as the two of you walk down the main hall.

“I think Charles wants us to wait until he’s spoken with Logan. Wants us to meet him properly.”

You roll your eyes. ‘Meet him properly.’ Tackling someone to the ground isn’t a proper greeting?

“Be nice,” you hear someone say behind you. Jean falls into stride with the two of you.

“Jean! Don’t read my thoughts,” you say, pushing her lightly.

“But you think so loudly,” she complains.

The three of you make your way outside, deciding to steer clear of the mansion until Logan has had his conversation with Charles. “I really don’t want to run into him again. It would not be conducive to a healthy future relationship,” you mutter.

“He is kind of volatile, isn’t he?” Jean asks rhetorically. “I mean, he attacked with no real provocation.”

“Waking up in a room you’ve never been in with two strangers isn’t provoking enough?” Ororo asks, taking a seat at one of the lawn tables. You join her, leaning back in your chair.

Being in nature calms your nerves, but also sets them alight. Your senses come to life again and you hear the running water of the fountain, the wind whistling through the trees, and the small animals stepping in the grass. As Jean and Ororo continue their conversation, you close your eyes and lean your head back and allow yourself to connect. It is only the second day after the full moon, which means your sensitivity to everything around you is still high. You pull at the energy from the ground, letting it throb through your body. You feel the aching in your body disappear, feel your muscles rejuvenated, feel the blood pumping through your veins.

You hear the humming of a man’s voice, scratchy and slightly off-key. It’s a voice you haven’t heard in years. He’s humming something that only graces your ears in dreams. It scratches your scalp and kisses your forehead. Dad.

You steady your breathing, trying to latch onto his voice. You’ve never experienced this in the daytime; it usually only happens when you’re asleep or in a deep meditative state. The words of your friends fade away.

In your mind’s eye, you stand from the table and follow the humming into the woods. You stumble over fallen branches, but your unusual miscoordination doesn’t prick the logical part of your brain. All you can think of is your father. His voice roaming through the trees, taking you deeper into the woods. And suddenly, you are somewhere else.

The church.

His voice is gone.

“No,” you whimper, turning into a young girl again.

You feel the shackles of the past lock around your wrists, forcing you to your knees. A screech escapes your throat at a forcible yank of your hair backwards. You look up to see your mother staring down at you. Her eyes are pitch black. “Your father rejects you. Even in death, he will not visit your wretched soul,” she says with a sneer, pulling your hair farther back. It feels as if she is trying to rip it from your skull.

“He never rejected me,” you spit.

“Are you so sure?”

You open your eyes with a deep inhale. It wasn’t real. You remind yourself.

Jean and Ororo stare at you, waiting for your response to something. You subtly shake your head of the images conjured by your mind and ask, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

You hope they assume your exhaustion from last night got the better of you and you simply dozed off for a moment. “Logan is ready to meet us,” Jean says, her eyes a reflection of worry. Not toward meeting Logan, to your dismay.

“Oh, great.”

Despite a desire to remain calm, your heart thunders in your chest. You worry your cross between your fingers. You have no idea what to expect from him; you fully believe he will pounce at you again.

Ororo holds your hand as the three of you enter Charles’ study. Scott sits on the armrest of one of the chairs in the room, arms folded over his chest. Charles is behind his desk and sitting ever so casually on the edge of the desk, is Logan.

He wears a gray X-Men sweatshirt and the jeans he had on when he arrived at the mansion. His eyes fall to yours immediately, recognition filling his gaze. You break eye contact dismissively, going to sit on the other armrest of the chair Scott sits on. You keep your eyes strictly on Charles, but you feel Logan’s on you. Your heart doesn’t steady.

“Everyone, this is Logan Howlett. The Wolverine,” Charles says, gesturing to the man sitting on his desk.

Scott huffs a laugh. “Wolverine? Like the animal?”

You nudge him in the side. “As if Cyclops is any better.”

Charles clears his throat. “Please.”

“We are the X-Men, some of which you have already met.” Charles gives you a pointed look. You throw your hands up in defense. “I promise you not all of your introductions will be so…violent.”

Scott snickers.

“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. Your eyes flick to Logan’s. He watches the interaction between you two carefully.

Charles goes around the room, introducing each of your friends to the stranger. When he gets to you, Logan’s stare bears into you heavier than it had before. It intimidates you, but doesn’t scare you. Charles tells him your name, following with, “Others know her as Proserpina, the Roman goddess of spring.”

You don’t expect him to say anything, but his voice fills your ears for the first time since last night. “The goddess of spring is who knocked me out cold last night?”

“It’s not just nature I can manipulate,” you say tersely. “Bub.”

His eyes narrow as his lips turn up in a smirk.

Charles finishes the introductions and tells the team that training will commence in thirty minutes. The second his spiel is over, you stand. Deciding to jump into the fire, you approach Logan. “Sorry about last night,” he says.

It takes you by surprise. You expected more of a fight from him.

“Uh, it’s okay,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “You gave me some much needed practice.”

You sense your friends watching your interaction from afar. Although they are conversing casually, you feel their eyes on you.

“Yeah, you seemed a little rusty, Pro.”

You narrow your eyes. “And you seemed a little overzealous, Wolverine.”

He grunts. “If that’s overzealous, then I worry for your boyfriend.” He points to Scott on the word boyfriend.

“Scott?” You laugh. “Now, that’s a good joke. You’re funny.”

A look of confusion crosses his face and you leave him like that, feeling content with how the conversation ended. Screw a healthy relationship.

━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━

i had to get this out of my brain or i was going to go crazy. i hope you enjoyed! im excited to keep writing them :)

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #xmen #scott summers #jean grey #ororo munroe #cyclops #storm #professor x #dark phoenix #i had to get this out of my brain

315 notes · View notes

stargirlygirl · 12 days ago

Text

"You're my girl, aren’t you? Forever mine.”

touya todoroki x fem!reader ⋆｡°✩— scream!au, virgin sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, knife play / marking, mild gore, swearing, threesome - MMF (Touya/Shigaraki/You), dubcon, blood kink, choking, dacryphilia, voyeurism, swearing, humiliation, hurt comfort, 17k words, touya’s scars are tattoos

inspired by 'All For You' by @bkgsdoll

You and the girls were over at Mina’s tonight for girls night!! You were laying on Mina’s plush pink bed, phone in hand, scrolling through Halloween costume ideas on Pinterest. Ochaco was sitting up next to you, her back against the baby pink studded headboard. Himiko lay in her lap. Mina was sprawled out in a pink bean bag next to her large bed. You were all focusing on the task at hand, deciding on your outfits for Mina’s annual Halloween party. Even though it was a couple of months away, such a decision was a priority. Every so often, you heard Ochaco and Himiko whispering to one another about some good costume ideas.

You loved moments like these, when you were all gathered over at Mina’s. You loved how feminine her room was. Even though it was cluttered, it had this girly, warm, bubbly vibe. Just like her. You were so grateful that you could all be friends. It was a bit difficult at first as you, Mina, and Ochaco were pretty tight knit. A fourth member of your posse didn’t seem to be on the table. That was until you had met Touya. It wasn’t easy, telling your friends that you had made friends with one of those kids at college.

Yes, sometimes we all get a little crazy. We do things that should be kept behind closed doors, that aren’t the best for us or that hurt others cough crime cough drugs cough drinking cough fucking around. But, there was so much more to Touya and his friends than that. Honestly, they weren’t even that different from your friends. It’s just that they were seen that way. I mean, can you blame your friends for thinking you were getting involved with a bunch of drug addicts from Touya’s bajillion tattoos and his friends’ rather eccentric personalities?

It took a while but your friends gradually began to accept that Touya and his gang were a part of your life now. You had introduced Himiko to your closest friends a few months ago and since then, you have all been getting on really well.

All is quiet for the moment until Mina perks up. She exclaims, “LADIES! I’VE GOT IT. The perfect hottest costume idea for this year!!” You all sit up a little, rousing from your doom scroll daze at her words. You push yourself up, hand disappearing between the fluffy blanket you had been lying on. You feel the shift in weight as Himiko does the same.

“What is it?” Ochaco asks, her short brows furrowing in curiosity.

By this time, Mina had already gotten up from her bean bag and climbed onto the bed. She stands up at the very end, hands on hips. She raises her phone, showing you all her magnificent idea.

“We’ll go as the Sailor Moon Guardians!!” On screen showed a picture of the skintiest Halloween costumes you think you’ve seen yet. Those skirts didn’t look like they would cover anything. Ochaco clapped her hands together, squealing in delight while Himiko giggled and smiled. You were the only one who didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the idea.

“Um, don’t you think that’s a little revealing?”

Mina groaned, “Ughhhh [y/n], you’re such a buzzkill.” She leaned down and pulled on your arm, to which you responded by giggling and pushing her off gently. She stood up straight again and jumped down from the bed so she stood next to you now.

“What girl doesn’t want to look super slutty on Halloween?” She asked you whilst crossing her arms under her full chest.

You chucked superficially, “Uh, this girl here, Mina.” She rolled her eyes at you, looking at the girls behind you.

An idea ignites, aflame in her eyes. She counters, “Okay, fine then. You can go as Cady’s Frankenstein look and we’ll go as the rest of the Plastics Halloween costumes.”

“NO!” Your eyes were wide, hands reaching out to her but failing to grasp anything. “Not that,” you continued, your voice filled with panic. You looked away from her, seeing the smirk stretching across her face.

Himiko tries next to convince you. She was behind you, her small hands on your shoulders, chest pressing into your upper back, her lips at your ear speaking softly and teasingly into it, “Come on [y/n]-chan. Don’t you wanna look good for Touya-kun?” You turned your head back to look at her, your faces inches apart now. Sensing you were fighting a losing battle, you looked down.

Ochaco shifted closer to you as well, chiming in, “It’s not that bad, [y/n].” Mina looked at you, smirk still plastered across her face.

“Don’t be such a prude, [y/n]. As Himiko said, ain’t nothing Touya hasn’t seen before.”

That hit a nerve for some reason. You stood up, Himiko falling forward from your sudden movement. You crossed your arms over your chest and turned to look at your friends.

“That’s not what she said! And it’s not about Touya! It’s about my image. Why can’t I dress a little more modestly? I don’t want people to see me in that. Can you imagine if some creep saw me in that? Like, like Denki?” The girls burst out laughing. They’ve known of your little admirer for some time now and how much he annoys you. How some days he won’t stop following you around on campus or insist on having lunch with you and your friends.

The girls composed themselves, Ochaco coming around first. She shrugs. Still giggling a little, she says, “Okay okay, we’ll put a pin in it for now.”

For the rest of the night, you talk about lots of things as Scream plays in the background. There are times when you all scream and then laugh and then aren’t even paying attention to the film anymore. Mina tells you all that she’s been worried about Kirishima lately as he’s been hanging out more with Bakugou, sometimes not replying to her messages until the next day. You all reassure her that that’s normal, especially when Kirishima was joined at her hip for the first several months of them dating.

It’s getting late now, around 1am when the movie finishes and Himiko goes home. She gives you all a kiss on the cheek before she leaves. You watch from the window as she gets in the car with Jin and he drives away.

Mina excuses herself with “Bitches I need the bathroom.” So now, it’s just you and Ochaco. She lets out a sigh of relief as Jin’s car disappears in the thick of the trees.

She says suddenly, “Oh my gosh, I was waiting for her to go home the whole time!” Your brows knit together in confusion. What did she mean by that? The brown-haired girl looks at you giggling.

“What? Oh come on, [y/n]. You don’t seriously think I like her, right? I mean, she’s such a little freak.” You’re frozen for a moment, unable to respond.

Composing yourself, you begin, “Um, Ochaco. That’s such a me—” You’re interrupted by Mina slamming the door open, announcing her presence.

You make a mental note to talk to Ochaco about that later, and even Mina to see if she feels the same. You had thought that everything was going well between you all. Had that not been the case? Had that been only in your eyes? Or, what you had perceived as it was what you wanted?

You gave yourself a little shake, coming back to reality and seeing Ochaco and Mina looking at you. Mina began,“Are you o—”

“Sorry, I think a demon possessed me for a minute there,” you laugh and the other two join in, not bothering to inquire any further into your space out.

You ended up staying until 3am, eventually working up the courage to excuse yourself to the bathroom because 1) you really needed to pee and 2) wanted to text Touya to pick you up. He obliged and now you were in his car together. He was driving you home as you debriefed about girls night, including what Ochaco had said to you and how that made you feel. How bad you felt for Himiko, knowing how much she liked Ochaco and how those feelings weren’t close to being reciprocated.

“Didn’t realise bubblegum bitch was such ahhhhhh…” “I know right?” You looked up at Touya, smiling to yourself seeing him in the pale moonlight. His tattooed hand was on your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth as you continued talking about the events of tonight. Touya listens to your yapping patiently, cutting in at some points to laugh at you or make fun of you, especially for your desire to preserve your ‘modesty’ for Halloween.

He drops you home, walking you up to your front door. He covers your head with his arm raised, jacket protecting you from the light drizzle of rain. He gives you a warm cuddle and forehead kiss before stepping back and telling you to get inside already. Touya watches you enter your house and turn the lights on before leaving.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

The next morning, you wake up to a phone call from your best friend, Mina. You groan, groggily picking up the phone and answering the phone call. The first thing you hear is Mina scream.

You pull the phone away from your ear as she yells into the microphone, “[Y/N]!! [Y/N]! IT’S OCHACO. SHE’S… she’s dead.” You rub your face with your palm, yawning.

“Alright, Mina. Give it up. I’m not fal—”

“NO! [Y/N].” You can hear the shake in her voice, the tears staining her cheeks and muddying her voice as she continues, “SHE’S DEAD!!” You sit upright in bed, telling her that you’ll be over right away.

You scamper out of bed, running to the bathroom to brush your teeth before hopping in the car and driving to Mina’s. When you get there, the cops are already on the scene. As is Kirishima. You spot him in front of the house, among the police. He’s got his back to you. Beneath his muscular arms you can see pink hair poking out. You rush over to them, calling out to Mina. She looks up upon hearing her name and comes over to you, falling into your arms. You hold her tight, catching the bloody sight of Ochaco at the side of the house.

You see, Mina lives in an isolated area near a lake. Her house is surrounded by dense trees. The only way to her house is along a dirt path.

You can see how the ground is still wet from the pitter patter of rain in the early hours of the morning. Blood soaks the dirt near Mina’s bedroom window, painting a trail to Ochaco’s limp, bloodied body dangling from a tree. It’s too far off for you to make out the specifics. But one thing is for sure, she’s not your friend anymore. She is now no more than an empty, mutilated shell left in this world.

A sob chokes in your throat as you avert your eyes, looking at your usually bubbly friend crying out her heart in your arms. Her boyfriend hovers close to her. The cops watch your interaction before interrupting you after a few minutes, asking you if you know the victim. You, of course, tell them that you do and they lead you away to ask you a few questions. And then a few more questions which spirals into a full-blown investigation. You leave out any mention of what Ochaco had said about Himiko last night and how you told Touya. You don’t know why — I mean, that’s pretty valuable information, right? But, there’s a feeling, a voice in you telling you not to say it.

After the cops are satisfied with your answers, and after you’ve provided them with Himiko’s contact details, they give you some space. You immediately call Touya, telling him what’s happened and how you need him here urgently. After ending the phone call, you walk back over to Kirishima and Mina, discussing what had happened. You all watch as Ochaco’s body is cut down from the tree and covered with white.

Mina told you that she hadn’t heard anything last night, that she had been sleeping peacefully until waking up this morning. Confused as to where Ochaco went, she looked out of her window and saw the brown-haired girl’s body. She had then called the cops, Kiri, and you.

You’re sniffling, unable to hold everything back any longer. As you begin to break down, you hear Touya calling your name. You whisper his in relief, running up to him and throwing yourself into his arms. He feels warm, hot, as he always does. His embrace makes you melt, your tears and sorrows pouring out into the white long sleeve he’s got on. The cops take notice of Touya’s arrival but don’t say anything; you are in literal shambles in your boyfriend’s arms so it’s probably not the best time to call him over for questioning.

You had been angry with how Ochaco had… had almost betrayed? Backstabbed? Lied to? Himiko. But now, all of that is gone. You mourned for the loss of an incredibly bright and kind girl, even though she had her downfalls. We all did, right?

Touya held you strong. He never faltered. He held you and ran his pale fingers through your [h/c] locks, rubbing circles on your back to help you calm down. And it worked. After ten or so minutes, you were back to sniffling.

You look up into his striking ocean eyes, pulling back from his embrace. Your voice is thick with grief as you say, “Touya. Touya, I—” You couldn’t continue anymore, the pain too great.

“I know.” He gave you a gentle smile before drawing you back into his arms.

Most of the officers left soon after, a few stragglers assessing the crime scene marked with yellow tape. You and Mina went your separate ways and Touya drove you back to his place so he could take care of you during this emotional time. You couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

It’s been a couple weeks since Ochaco’s murder. The police had informed you that she had been stabbed 13 times, no sign of struggle. It would have been in her last moments that she was hung from the tree. Whoever the killer was was intelligent, as basically all of the evidence had been washed away with the rain of that night. The investigators concluded that Ochaco must of known her killer and followed them out of Mina’s bedroom, through her window, before she was stabbed to death.

The investigators also informed you that they had spoken to Himiko and the information she provided was very similar to yours.

It was too much for you to bear. You cast the thought of it all to the back of your mind. I mean, why would anyone kill Ochaco? What kind of motive could they have had? It all seemed so hazy to you.

You stayed at Touya’s place for the first week after it happened. You couldn’t handle sleeping alone in the darkness, so Touya would wrap you up in his soothing, lean arms and sleep with you. He would leave the window curtains open, the moonlight just bright enough so you didn’t feel scared and dim enough so you could sleep properly. But, it couldn’t stop the nightmares. Ever since that day, you’ve been waking up in the middle of the night screaming and crying. When you were with Touya, he would wake up with you and make sure that you were okay.

“God, [y/n], you freaked me the fuck out,” he groaned.

You sniffled, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Touya.” You were crying into your hands. Touya pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back with his palms. He would just hold you until you calmed down, eventually pulling back and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands.

“You wanna take a shower? Tell me about it?” You nodded, following his lead as he guided you to the bathroom, leaving you alone to shower and preparing some hot tea for you when you were finished.

You came out of the bathroom, wearing one of Touya’s shirts that was clearly too big for you. You curled up on his bed next to him and he handed you a cup of steaming tea.

“You right?” You shook your head. Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape and blew away the steam. You told him how you dreamt of you being Ochaco on the last night of her life, in her last moments. How your killer was a black figure. Unknown yet familiar; you carelessly allowed it to lure you to your death.

After you finished your tea, Touya would set your cups on the night stand and pull you back under the covers, cuddling up with you and reassuring you that that would never happen with him here, right beside you. And then, he wasn’t beside you anymore.

In your time staying at Touya’s, you had been close to Himiko. You two mourned together when Touya had late night classes as they lived together with the rest of the gang. You could see how much Ochaco had meant to Himiko in the darkness under the blonde’s eyes. How she seemed almost numb, angry when she wasn’t crying. She had even convinced Jin to let her have one of his cigarettes. However, upon her first inhale, she had bent over in a coughing fit, whining about how foul it was and gave it back to him.

You were glad that when you weren’t with her, Jin was.

After returning home, you found that the nights alone were the hardest. You had contemplated calling Touya on more than one occasion, but you had already kept him up for a week. How could you keep him up for another one? Or longer?

Once it hit a month afterwards, you were doing a lot better. You were smiling more, laughing and making jokes again. Your friends started teasing you, saying “She’s back. [Y/n]’s back.” But, they couldn’t say the same for Mina. She had been quite closed off ever since the incident. She would only talk with you, Himiko, and Kirishima. When you did talk, she would tell you that she too had been having nightmares, and how tortured she felt over the whole ordeal. How if she had only woken up during the night, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Ochaco wouldn’t be dead.

Today, you were doing a group project as part of your final assessment for the unit. The task was to create a presentation on a research question of your choosing. Each member had a different role and all of you had to speak during the class presentation, which was set to happen at the end of next week.

In your group was Tenya, Asui, and unfortunately, Monoma. The blond wouldn’t shut up. For the past 20 minutes, he’s been talking about the research information he’s gathered (which was little to none) in the most grandiose of ways. You heard from your peers that this man was an absolute nightmare to work with, and they were right. Tenya interjects during one of Monoma’s short pauses.

“Monoma-kun, do you think we could move on—”

“Ah-ah.” Monoma waves his finger from side to side in Tenya’s face. “I’m not finished yet.” With a satisfied grin from the group’s submission, he continues on. The whole lesson turns into the most uninteresting yap session. It has you resting your cheek on your palm, stealing glances with Tenya and Asui.

As soon as the bell rings, you’re out of there. You’ve got two hours before your next lecture, so you decide to grab some lunch and go to the library. You’re walking over to your favourite café on campus when you spot a certain blond and black haired boy. You’re already turning around, fully prepared to hit up one of the other cafés when you hear him call out to you.

“[Y/n]! Hey!” You turn back around, seeing the boy jog over to you. You’re tempted to make a run for it, but you know that’s not the nice thing to do.

You know that Denki doesn’t mean any harm. He likes you, you can tell, everyone can tell. He’s just a young guy who is still figuring things out. You empathise with him and he can be such a cutie sometimes. BUT, what you object to is the fact that you have a boyfriend and have had the same one for almost a year now, which Denki knows, and yet, he still follows you around like a lost puppy and sometimes talks like he has a chance with you. You’ve tried to put him down nicely in the past, which earned quite the disapproving girl talk with Mina and… and Ochaco.

You push back the thought of her, and, therefore, the thought(s) of her death. You force a smile onto your face, focusing on the boy coming up to you. He’s close now and he smiles at you widely.

“Hey, [y/n]. Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in agessss.”

You laugh superficially, replying in monotone, “Denki, you saw me yesterday.” Denki shifts to rub the back of his neck with his hand, a sheepish look on his face now.

“Did I?”

“Yes, Denki. You did.” You silently hope that you’re not coming off as rude but also, you silently hope that you are so he can take the hint and leave you alone. You’re not in the mood to deal with him after dealing with another particularly trying blond for the past hour.

Unfortunately, Denki doesn’t take notice of your annoyance. “Oh. Well, what’re you doing around here, [y/n]? Hey, while you’re here, why don’t we grab some lunch together? Do you see that café over there? They have really good—”

“Denki,” you cut him off. You’re really not in the mood to deal with him right now.

You’re about to tell Denki to get lost nicely when a familiar arm drapes around your shoulders. You look up, and who do you see?

A) Touya

B) Your pookie bear

C) A tattooed hottie

D) A man with family issues

E) All of the above

Ding ding ding, it’s E. You stare up at him with a grateful look in your eyes. He’s looking down at Denki. His sharp blue eyes pierced through the nerd.

“Hey, you’re Denki, right? My girlfriend has told me so much about you.” Touya extends his hand towards Denki, but the blond just stands there, eyes shifting from you to Touya and back.

“U-um, yea, haha, yea ugh, it’s nice to meet you too.” Denki’s hand trembles like his voice. He takes Touya’s hand and they shake curtly.

Touya continues, “I hope you don’t mind but, my girlfriend and I are gonna get some lunch and,” he looking down at you, smirk on his face, “go to the library. Please excuse us.”

Touya leads you away, Denki too dumbfounded to respond. You swear he short-circuits as you walk away, probably shaking his hand from Touya’s next level grip strength.

You’re silent too. Or have you been silenced? You have definitely been silenced. You can feel Touya’s muscles flex around you. He looks down at you again. “What?” You notice that he’s guiding you to the café you were originally going to go to.

“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I just… I just didn’t think you could be so cool.”

Touya chuckles, “What do you mean? I am cool. I’m the fucking coolest.” You giggle, leaning your head on his chest.

Touya buys you two lunch and you sit down by the window at the back of the shop to enjoy it. He notices that lingering furrow between your [b/c] brows and asks you about what’s bothering you. You love (and hate) how observant he is. You cough it up, not bothering to keep to yourself how annoying Monoma has been. This is only the second lesson you’ve been working in a group with him and he’s actually driving you insane.

Touya listens to you quietly before reminding you to eat and telling you how strong you are. After you’re both finished, he drops you off at the library. He’s already half an hour late to his lecture but he shrugs it off, saying that he’s happy to spend a bit more time with his girl, especially when she’s so stressed. He gives you a quick kiss before he leaves.

In a way, you’re grateful that he has class. Your ‘study’ sessions usually turn into something else… if you know what I mean wink.

You head inside the library, shivering at how cold it is inside. You spot Mina and Kirishima in the corner of the library, their table big enough for four. You approach slowly, not too sure if it would be appropriate to join them. But, your hesitancy fades away as Mina notices you coming over and waves at you in an enthusiastic gesture, reminiscent of her former bubbly glow. The gesture makes you smile and you come over to their table a little faster. Kirishima makes some space for you and you sit down next to him, saying ‘Hi’ to them both.

You begin getting out your laptop and other supplies. As you do so, you say, “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.” Mina frowns.

“No, you weren’t at all. Actually, you’re late.” You blink, forehead creasing in confusion.

You set your My Melody pencil case down on the table and ask in a high-pitched tone, “I am?”

Mina watches you under a scrutinising eye. You haven’t seen her this interested in anything ever since the incident. “Didn’t your class finish at 1pm? It’s two now.” You just stare at her for a few seconds before laughing awkwardly.

“Um, yea. I was with Touya.”

“Oh,” is all she says as she leans back. She had unconsciously been leaning forward towards you, anxious for your answer.

Was Mina… back? In that, she hasn’t been this nosy in weeks? And that “Oh”? “What do you mean by that?” You ask, looking at her. She’s hiding her face now behind her laptop, straightening it at a right angle. Your eyes narrow at her.

“Mina.” She shrugs, pulling her laptop closed.

“What?”

“What’s gotten into you? Is everything okay?” You ask, your voice laced with concern. Mina looks away from you to Kirishima. You can tell something was exchanged in their look. Something that puts you on edge. You look between them.

“What’s going on?”

Kirishima says, “It’s nothing, [y/n]. Mina and I were just talking about you two before you came in, that’s all.” ‘You two’? As in, you and Touya?

“Kiri, what do you mean? Touya and I?” Kirishima opens his mouth to answer but Mina beats him to it.

“Isn’t he a bit too old for you, [y/n]? Not to mention all of the tattoos and the kinda people he hangs out with.” You further furrow your brows, hands subconsciously clenching into fists as you stare at her. How dare she?

Touya has been nothing if not the best partner. How could she say that? Especially since Ochaco’s death. He’s been there for you when even Mina wasn’t. “He’s in second year, so what?”

Kirishima asks, genuine concern in his eyes, “Isn’t he like 24 though?” You look at the red-head next to you, giving him a rather angry look.

“23 actually.” He shrugs.

“Not like it makes much of a difference.”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, the blood rushing. Your face is heating up too.

“What’s your point?” You say between gritted teeth to the couple.

“Look [y/n],” Kirishima raises his hands in surrender, “We’re just worried about you, that’s all. It’s not smart to date older guys at your age.”

The tension is thick in the air. You’re all quiet. You open your laptop, looking at the screen as it lights up, anxiously awaiting your password.

You sigh, “Look guys, I really appreciate your concern. But, if you could just get to know Touya, you would see that you’re wrong about him.”

“I don’t think s—” The sounds of screaming cut Mina off. You and everyone else in the library look out the windows, seeing people form groups. Some lone wolves join a large group all huddled near the entrance to the library. One student is distraught, tears running down their face. You recognise that orange hair in a high ponytail. Kendo.

You stand up, Mina standing up with you and linking her arm in yours. You two give each other a look. The look that you’re in this together, no matter what happens. You leave Kirishima sitting at the table in confusion as you head out of the library. You walk over to where Kendo is, crying into a familiar silver-haired man. Kirishima’s teammate (and ultimate rival) in baseball.

“Tetsutetsu, Kendo, what happened?” Mina asks the pair. Kendo looks up. Seeing you two through blurry teal eyes, she begins to cry harder. You want to reach out to comfort her but, you know that now isn’t the time.

Tetsutetsu starts to answer for her, “Monoma��s been—”

“Killed!” Kendo cries out. With tears streaming down her cheeks and neck, she chokes out the words, “He’s been killed!”

You and Mina exchange a glance before looking back to the two of them.

You ask Tetsutetsu, “Is that true?” He nods.

“But how?” Mina questions. At this, Kendo breaks out into even harder sobs. A tanned hand comes to Mina’s shoulder, Kirishima standing behind her.

“I think we’re making it worse,” you say quietly to Mina and her boyfriend. Tetsutetsu hears you though (of course) and nods.

“Kendo was one of the students that found him. If you could,” he jerks his head to the side, signalling for you all to leave. You all apologise and give your condolences to Kendo.

You float from group to group, trying to get as much information as you can out of them. Everyone has something different to say. Some say that it was a suicide. Others say that it was definitely a murder. Apparently, he died from a head wound in the boys’ locker room. No one knows the specifics. And no one gets time to find out as the authorities arrive. Kirishima offers to take you both home to which you agree to.

As he reaches your place, your phone dings: two new messages from ‘mafia boss’. You click on the message from your boyfriend. It reads:

mafia boss: you heard about that fuck head?

mafia boss: do you need a ride home?

you: no thanks. kiri’s taking mina and i home. you okay?

You look up, realising that you’ve been texting while Kirishima has been waiting for you to get out. You apologise and grab your things, opening the car door and wishing the two of them the best. There’s a weight on your chest but you let it fester until you’re inside your bedroom. You throw your heavy backpack on your plush chair and put your phone on ‘Do not Disturb’. You then sit down on your bed, elbows on your knees, face in your hands, and you cry.

Why were you crying over someone who had irritated you? Wasted your time?

Monoma may have been annoying, narcissistic, and overly grandiose. BUT, he didn’t deserve to die for any of those things. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow, this was all of your fault. Maybe you were getting too much in your own head, getting a little too full of yourself. But, why were these people who had annoyed you dying hours later? Were you cursing them? Was your anger some kind of curse? Were you the one that had condemned them to such a fate? You didn’t believe in magic, but you couldn’t explain such happenings any other way.

For the rest of the night, you sat in your bed, watching your favourite film and cuddling with your favourite plushie, trying to regain some sense of normality in these chaotic times.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

A few weeks have passed since Monoma’s death. Your college released a letter a few days later stating that the police had ruled the blond’s death as a homicide. His baseball bat covered in only his fingerprints and blood was found next to his body in the men’s locker rooms. Death by trauma to the head. The weapon of choice clearly the baseball bat. The men’s locker rooms have only just reopened but no students are keen to use it. A memorial has also been erected on campus to honour his death.

Feeling guilty for what happened to him, you had bought him the most expensive bouquet at the supermarket and laid it by the others. You had whispered a short prayer, eyes closed, basking in the warmth of the autumn sun and the thick air of death.

Since then, you have been trying your best not to get annoyed or angry with anyone, fearing that there might be repercussions for doing so. The last thing you wanted to happen was for someone to die whom you had been irritated with. Such would confirm that indeed, you were really cursed. Or, a curse.

Like Ochaco, you had nightmares of what happened to Monoma most nights. But this time, you were not the victim, you were the perpetrator. Night after night you woke up in fits, eyes hazy and mind frenzied by the exhilaration of hitting that narcissistic boy over the head with his own baseball bat. In your dreams, you relished the feeling of seeing him fall to the ground, cursing your name, bleeding it. The adrenaline high was unlike any other, dropping the bat down next to him and making a break for it out the back.

You knew that Mina had been affected too. All of this death was draining the life from her. Her vitality sucked dry like salt on leeches. You never spoke to her of these dreams, nor did you to anyone else. You didn’t want to worry them. Instead, choosing to cry on your own most nights and make yourself your own cup of hot tea to relax.

By now, it was getting better. Things were evening out. The temperature was cooling to that perfect not-too-hot degree. The leaves were orange and brown now. Crispy. Falling to the ground. Perfect to crunch beneath your boots. You loved the refreshing breeze, especially after a night of rainfall. And with Mina’s annual Halloween party drawing near, you were feeling the best you had within the past couple months.

You had decided on a couple costume with Touya as Mina had with her boyfriend. You were still in the process of convincing Touya that going as an angel and devil was a good idea. You would be the angel and he the devil, duh. You already had the white corset, miniskirt, and knee-high boots. All you needed was a halo and wings. You ended up throwing caution to the wind and opting for a more scandalous outfit because why not? You wanted to have a good time, feel good in your body. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

You were at Target right now, texting Touya pictures of the different wings they had. You couldn’t decide whether to opt for long or short wings.

you: [image attachments]

you: which one do you like better? long or short?

mafia boss: does it matter? just pick one.

you: of course it matters! it changes the look you know

mafia boss: whatever. just get the cheapest one. i’ll end up taking it off you anyways

you: 🧍

mafia boss: don’t text me just emojis. you know i hate it when you do that

you: 👉👈

mafia boss: [y/n]

mafia boss: stop that shit

you: 🙅

mafia boss: fucking hell. you’re so annoying you know that? can’t stand you sometimes

you: sorry boss😔

mafia boss: fuck off

two minutes later

mafia boss: get the short ones

You already had them in your cart after deciding that the long wings would be too much of a hassle to move around in. You headed to the self-checkout and paid for your goodies. Walking back to your car, you text the girls group chat about your purchases and they let you know that they’re almost done as well. The party is tomorrow night after all!

You make it back home safely and unpack your boot. Afterwards, you grab a glass of iced water and some frozen grapes, getting ready to settle into an afternoon study session.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

The party was in an hour.

You were sitting on your bedroom floor, applying concealer to your dark under-eyes. You had already put on your costume (except for the wings and halo of course). You put on your makeup with a steady hand, thankfully applying your eyeliner perfectly the first time. It was one of those rare occasions where your wings were twins, not sisters. You finished off with some setting powder and setting spray, ecstatic with how the look turned out. You then put your products away in your organiser, throwing mascara-stained tissues in the small pink bin near the door.

Standing up, you grabbed your phone form your bed and saw Touya’s message that he was outside. You smiled to yourself and giggled a little, excited to show him your costume and to see him in his. You slipped on your halo and boots, leaving your wings for just before the party. You took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. The corset highlighted your perked breasts, tiny waist and divine curves to perfection while the miniskirt showed off your round ass. Satisfied, you grabbed your clutch and headed to your front door. Before leaving, you called out to your parents, letting them know that you were going now.

As soon as you stepped out, you caught sight of Touya leaning against the side of his car, inked arms crossed over his chest. His white, spiky hair was the perfect contrast to the dark colour palette of his costume. Silky black button up rolled up to his elbows, barely buttoned to show off his toned contours; tight fitting black trousers to draw attention to those meaty thighs paired with black dress shoes. You were obsessed with the silver chains dangling from his neck, one with a large cross on it. He had changed his ear piercings to match. It was giving tortured mafia boss if not for the blood-red devil-horns headband clutched tight in his veiny hands.

You really should have had more input in his costume as it was CRIMINAL to look this good.

A lazy smile stretches across his face as he takes in you and your incessant ogling. Your knees have gone slightly weak from the sight of your boyfriend like this. But, you power through as you walk over to him, trying your best to look as effortless and confident as he does.

Once you’re within reach, he wraps his arm around your shoulders. He draws you into him, avoiding the bobbling halo with his chin. He smells like pine and cigarettes. Must have been with Jin.

“Don’t you clean up well?” You tease, pulling back from him.

“This?” He raises an eyebrow, sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly as he looks down at you. “This is nothing.” You chuckle, slapping your palm playfully against his exposed chest.

“This is everything,” you say to Touya as he moves and opens the passenger door for you.

The drive to Mina’s place isn’t too long. You love the little lanterns she’s put along the driveway; larger jack-o lanterns closer to the house. It had been cleared and returned back to Mina’s family at the start of this week from the authorities, just in time for her party. You noticed that the place already looked full, the party in full swing. Were you late?

Touya parks off to the side and you slip on your wings before he grabs your hand and guides you inside. There are already many drunk young people dancing or making out when you walk into the living room. You spot Mina and Himiko sitting together on the couch. Himiko notices you first and gives you a big wave, standing up as you come over. She came as a vampire, fake blood smeared across her lips and neck. Her already sharp canines make for the perfect fangs. She takes you into her arms, giving you a big hug before complimenting your costume. You return the compliment and move over to give Mina a hug.

She’s dressed as a playboy bunny; bow tie and white cuffs, black corset showing off her curves. Behind the couch, Kirishima stands in a tux.

“I love this,” you say, pulling away from her warm embrace. Your finger points to her costume. She giggles and eyes your costume in return.

“Spin!” She squeals. You laugh at her enthusiasm, doing a little spin. Your eyes meet Touya’s for a moment and all he can do is smirk at you.

“This is so hot!!” She exclaims as she claps her hands together. You laugh and thank her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Touya looking around the room, his eyes scanning intensely as if searching for someone. You sit down on the couch; he’s in front of you. “Touya,” you start as you lean forward and grab his hand, “You okay?” He looks down at you with slightly wide eyes and raised brows. Yet in a second, all notion of surprise has been erased from his face. He now stares at you with an almost hungry glare, tongue darting out across his lower lip as his familiar grin stretches across his face.

“Fine. Why don’t I get you a drink?” You shake your head, Touya knows you don’t like drinking at parties.

Seeing your reluctance, he gets down on one knee in front of you. His other large, warm hand envelops yours.

“Come on, babe. You know I’ll take care of you.” You bite your lower lip, thinking his proposition over. Finally, you nod. One drink can’t hurt, right? He smiles wider, rising from the floor and leaving you with your friends on the couch.

You and the girls chat for a little before Himiko sees Midoriya arrive. In an instant, she’s up and walking over to him. You and Mina giggle, giving each other that knowing look.

You come a little closer and whisper in her ear, “Do you think Midoriya knows how she feels?”

Mina slaps your shoulder playfully as she rolls her eyes. “No way! He’s dumb as when it comes to romance.” You two laugh until Mina stands up suddenly, telling you that she and Kiri are gonna go check on the other guests. You nod, albeit saddened that you would be left alone. What was taking Touya so long? You wonder.

You don’t have to wonder for long though as a certain blond and black-haired boy comes almost running over to you.

“[Y/n]!! There you are! I was worried you weren’t gonna make it tonight.” Denki. You watch, mentally pleading for him not to come over as he comes over. You stand up to meet him, forcing yourself not to sigh or roll your eyes. Just play nice, you tell yourself. Touya will be here soon.

“Hey, Denki.” You give him a forced smile. He doesn’t seem to notice though (when does he ever?). His doe eyes rake over your figure, clearly enjoying how sumptuous you look in such a tight bodice and short skirt. You internally curse yourself. This is the kind of situation you wanted to avoid. Sex-crazed teenage boys checking you out. Should have come as a ghost or inflatable dinosaur, you think.

“Damn girl, someone better tell God he’s missing an angel.” Denki’s licking his lips, his golden eyes meeting yours. The lewd look in them sends shivers down your spine. And not in a good way.

You laugh nervously, “Haha yea, um. And what’re you, Denki?”

“I’m a cowboy obviously.” You get a better look at his costume. Cowboy boots, akubra, fringed jacket. How didn’t you see that? You furrow your brows, assuming that you were probably too uncomfortable to notice when a cold hand grabs your shoulder. You squeak, jumping slightly. You turn around, stepping back so you’re closer to Denki than you’re usually comfortable with. You’re met with deep red eyes beneath long, light blue waves.

“Shigaraki,” you breathe out. You chuckle, embarrassed by how much he surprised you.

“Come,” he says. You stop laughing. You look back at those soulless, bored eyes. They stare at you but you don’t feel like they’re really staring at you.

“What?”

“Come. We’re gonna have some fun,” he states in monotone.

He starts walking away from you, stopping near the doorway. He looks back at you expectantly. You turn to look at Denki. His golden gaze flickers back and forth between the blue-haired boy and you. You clear your throat briefly before you bid him a goodbye.

“Sorry, Denki. I’ll see you around.” You raise your hand to wave but he pipes up, “No!” You tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“I-I’ll come with you.” He leans closer to you and it takes everything in you not to lean back. He whispers to you, the scent of alcohol on his breath, “I don’t trust him.” You shake your head.

“That’s not necessary, Denki. I’m flattered, really, but—” Denki’s already started walking towards Shigaraki. He looks back at you, feigning confidence.

“Are you coming or what?”

You sigh. Your feet move on instinct towards the doorway where Shigaraki is. Denki waits for you to catch up and then stays behind you. Real tough guy.

Shigaraki leads you out of Mina’s house and into the surrounding woods. You all walk together without a light. The moon is bright overhead; full. It casts a certain glow over the scenery. You are closely behind Shigaraki and you notice his ‘costume’ (if you could call it that). He’s in a pair of baggy jeans and his usual long sleeve black tee.

“What did you come as, Shiggy?” You ask him.

He doesn’t turn around as he mumbles, “A high school drop-out.”

You continue walking in the twilight woods, dodging trees and their sagging branches. Twigs and dry leaves snap beneath your feet and you can hear the chattering of animals. By now, the sounds of the party have faded into the background. Only the reverb trickles to where you are. You begin to think that Shiggy lured you out here to fuck with you. Was this really his idea of fun?

You catch a glimpse of the lake. It sparkles beneath the full moon. The surface shimmers like a million jewels. The water is dark, more black than blue, nothing like Touya’s eyes. He has such bright, burning eyes. You feel a pang in your chest; you miss him already.

“Shiggy, where are we going?” You whine. You can hear how that nickname had his lips pressing into a hard line. He’s despised it ever since you started calling him that. But, he tolerates it. He knows that you like calling him that and Touya will have a go at him if he upsets you.

“Look.” His voice is as dull and cold as ever.

You look past his broad shoulders, seeing the outline of a cabin come into view. You couldn’t hear anything from inside and there didn’t appear to be any lights turned on.

“Is it just us or?” You ask.

“Y-yea.” Denki’s voice shakes. He clears his throat and you look behind you, seeing him a little further back than you thought he was. His hat has been lost to the wilderness. Shigaraki doesn’t respond as he emerges from the trees.

The space around the cabin has been cleared; a little path made tracking down to the lake. It looks abandoned. The vegetation is overgrown, vines climbing up the undulating wood. Shigaraki almost looks ghostly, godly, ethereal in the unfiltered moonlight. The light bounces off of his pale, dry skin. His hair looks like the soft ripples on the lake’s surface. His eyes sparkle like garnets. Your breath is taken away by the sight of him like this. The way his skin stretches taut over his jaw, collarbones, his scarred hands… What’s wrong with you?

You can’t see it but, you look like an actual angel from the heavens above in the moon’s glow. It catches on your loose curls which trail down to your waist, on the curve of your breasts pressed tight against your corset. It gives the exposed skin of your thighs and calves a certain radiance.

In a cacophony of twigs snapping and insects groaning, Denki stumbles out from the tree-line. You both turn your heads to look at him. Your usual response would be to giggle, but there was something unsettling in the air. Maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween. That you were all alone in the middle of the woods with two men, one you trust and one that looks like he might throw up from fear. That the sun’s burnish had since faded, leaving only the blackness of night. You couldn’t shake this feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Shigaraki moves towards the front door, opening it with some force due to the moss that had grown on the edges. He opens it wide, nodding for you all to enter. You look back at Denki and see how pale he’s become. Deciding that it’s for the best, you walk up to the cabin first and enter sideways to avoid hitting your wings. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the cabin. The only light is that of the moon’s streaming in through the spider-webbed windows. You can just make out the lines of a couch off to the side when the door behind you slams shuts.

You try to turn around but you don’t get far. Your eyes widen as Shigaraki’s arm wraps around yours, pulling them behind your back. His hard body presses into you from behind.

“Shiggy!” You shout. His other hand comes to your chest, arm pressing slightly into your neck and keeping you facing forward. You whimper, struggling and trying to fight him off.

What you don’t notice is the man standing in front of you. Your jerking movements are silenced by his words.

“What’s wrong, baby? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

You look up, rapidly taking in a wide-eyed and equally panicking Denki. Pressed against his side, a figure black as night intercut by pale, tattooed skin and deliciously defined muscles. You meet those ocean blue eyes, crinkled in amusement. A wide, manic grin is spread across his pink-inked lips.

“Touya.” Your voice is barely audible. You struggle even harder in Shigaraki’s hold. “Touya! Touya, what’s going on? I thought—” You let out a yelp as your blue-haired captor tightens his grip on you.

“Touya,” you yelp. You’re looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. Your breathing is stuttered and heartbeat erratically thumping in your chest.

Touya’s fierce eyes flicker to his accomplice for a moment before meeting yours again.

“What did you think? That we were gonna ‘have some fun’? We are, baby.” Touya shifts forward, bringing a struggling Denki with him. “We are.” And then you see it. The silver sleek glimmer of a knife.

It’s like time has slowed down twofold as you watch Touya’s pale fingers flex around the steel handle and raise the blade, plunging it deep into the blond boy’s chest. You scream. Your shriek echoes in your own mind, bouncing off the walls. Reverberating. You can’t close your eyes but you can’t bear to watch as Touya continues to drive the knife into Denki’s increasingly limp body. You can’t stop seeing the blood bleeding out, staining, conquering the plaid shirt he wears, spilling onto the fringed jacket, spewing onto his jeans. You can’t stop hearing his shrieks and pleas for mercy. His pain. Your eyes, your ears, are glued to the sight.

Touya throws him to the side. Limp body landing with a thud like a doll. His golden eyes are dull, lifeless, wide-open. His final resting face is one of terror. Even in death, he’s looking at you.

Hot, dripping, blood-stained fingers grab harshly at your jaw, bringing your gaze to your… Your what? Your boyfriend? Lover? The man that just stabbed an innocent boy to death in front of you? His brows furrow, seeing your unfocused gaze. All you can utter is his name.

“Touya…” He bursts out laughing. In a fit. You watch as he just stands there, fingers gripping you harshly, and cackling harshly. At what? You don’t understand. What could possibly be funny about this situation?

“Touya, why?” You ask quietly. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from collapsing on the floor. He snaps his head back to you.

“Why? Isn’t it obvious? I’m doing this all for you.”

Did you hear that right?

He chuckles, “You can’t really be that dumb, can you?” You stopped functioning about three minutes ago. You’re left speechless by him, no response forming in your mind. Only the scenes of what you just saw fill it. Your consciousness. Your unconsciousness. You can taste the metallic scent of blood on your tongue. You inhale it, unable to escape its tang. It fills the cabin, stifling.

“You really haven’t worked it out? Bubblegum bitch, that narcissist, and short circuit over here. I killed them all for you.”

What?

He. You. I… He what?

You blink slowly, trying to un-hear the words you just heard.

“Touya—”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” He steps back, putting distance between you and taking his bloodied fingers with him. He stretches his arms to the side, knife still in his hand, and looks upward.

“I love you so much, [y/n]. So much. I would kill for you. Why couldn’t you just ask me to?” His arms fall to his sides, head lowering to look back to you. He has this crazed melancholy look in his eyes. You feel Shigaraki’s fingers shift on arm, causing you to whimper. He had been holding you so tight. Somehow, you hadn’t even noticed until now.

You’re choking back sobs, tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you speak, “T-Touya.” Your voice wavers. You look down, letting the tears fall. Your breaths are shaky, racking through your body. You stand there, kept upright by Shigaraki’s harsh grip, sobbing. You would fall to the floor if you could. Touya’s sharp eyes watch your every movement. He sees how much your small shoulders tremble with your tears. But, he doesn’t have time to deal with your emotional outburst when he’s got other plans on his mind.

You feel Touya’s familiar hand gripping your shoulder, pushing you back slightly. You throw your head back, teary eyes meeting his. You blink, his perfect face becoming clearer. “You’re my girl, aren’t you? Forever mine.” He’s smiling down at you, all traces of sadness gone. Replaced with something else. You bite your lower lip roughly, trying to keep the tremors in.

You know that the victims of the love of your life had annoyed you, had hurt you, but did they deserve to die for that? You couldn’t say for certain.

You can feel his grip on your shoulder tighten. You yelp and cry out, “I-I… I don’t know, Touya. I don’t know!” This was too much to process. Too much for you to handle.

He looks past you to Shigaraki. He commands the blue-haired boy to hold your neck. You shudder in fright and struggle, crying out ‘No!’ Unfortunately, to no avail. Shigaraki’s got your head pinned to the side with his hand that was on your chest. The length of your neck is exposed to your boyfriend. You look to the side, your pretty eyes wide and afraid. Like a deer in headlights. You watch as Touya raises the blood-slicked knife to your pale, delicate skin. And then, you feel it.

You scream out in pain, white-hot searing pain as you feel the blade dig into your skin, dragging across. A moment of relief, and then the burn is back. You’re crying, sobbing like your life depends on it. You’re praying to the Lords above, begging for sweet mercy on your soul.

After an eon of pain, the blade leaves your skin. But, it feels like it never left. You hear it thud on the floorboards.

You can’t seem to stop crying. You feel Shigaraki’s hand leave your cheek only for it to be replaced by Touya’s long, red fingers gripping your chin once more. You watch through cloudy eyes as he leans down, thick tongue on your wound, lapping your blood like a newborn pup it’s mother’s milk. You choke out another sob. He pulls back, stretching out his arms to you like he would when you fall into his arms and give him a big hug.

“Come ‘ere.”

Shigaraki lets go of you. You stumble forward, collapsing into Touya. You’re breathing hard. You can’t decide whether you’re repulsed by the wet drip-press of blood staining Touya’s clothes and skin against your clammy, trembling body. Touya taunts, teases you, “Why don’t we have some fun now?” You want to smack him across the head. And then tell him to never let you go. You barely manage a nod to which Touya smirks at your compliance. Not that it would have mattered. He knew he could always convince you.

Even though he’s hurt you, just now actually in a very tangible, painful way, you still loved him. God… You loved him like everyone loves cat videos, like flowers love the sun, or mosquitoes love LED zappers. You love him in a way that you are drawn to him, you want to be with him, and you need him, even if there are consequences. Since when have you been so clingy? It doesn’t matter now. There’s no cure for such inevitable feelings. He could kill you, he could’ve killed you, and you wouldn’t have cared. There is no way humanly possible that he could get rid of you now. That’s how you loved him.

He loops his arm under your legs, picking you up and carrying you. Your arms wrap around his neck, tears still running down your cheeks as pain courses throughout your body. And not just the physical kind. You don’t care to watch as Touya takes you up the stairs and to the master bedroom at the back of the cabin, Shigaraki silently following behind.

With one hand around you, he opens the bedroom door with the other. He walks through the threshold, coming over to the bed and dropping you onto it. You yelp in pain at the sudden drop. Your eyes squint at the glow of the lamp Touya just flicked on. He waits patiently for you to adjust, his body hovering above yours. Your eyes focus, seeing him really for the first time since he left your side at the party. He really is covered in blood, soaked to the bone. And soon, you will be too.

He leans down, bringing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss, enjoying the familiar heat he ignites beneath your skin. Your hands reach up and grip his shoulders. They slide up slicked with blood to his neck and then into his white, now red, locks. You can feel him smile into you. His own hands on you. One grasping the back of your neck, careful to avoid your still bleeding cut. The other was tight on your waist. You moan into his lips, relishing in the sweet, wet sensation of his tongue licking your lips and slipping into your mouth. You moan louder once your tongues swirl together. Your fingers tug at the hair on the base of his neck, earning a groan from him.

Soon enough, he pulls away and sits back on his haunches. You’re breathless, watching intently as he rips a strip of fabric from your white skirt. He leans down, using it to wipe the blood of the mark he’s left on you. He repeats the process, tearing off another strip. But this time, he presses the fabric into your weeping wound. You cry out, “Fuck, Touya! You’re hurting me.” He clicks his tongue at you. “Grit your teeth, love. I want your scar to be pretty.” You whimper in response, doing as he tells you.

After a couple of minutes, he removes the blood-soaked fabric from your neck. He turns it over and wipes it gently. A satisfied smirk spreads across his face; he throws it to the floor. He wipes his hands on your previously white corset, shifting back and rolling you over onto your stomach. You can feel him take off your angel wings that were attached to it before his fingers expertly work at the laces you asked your mother to tie only hours earlier. How innocent you were then. How untouched by the stench, the feel of blood caressing your soft skin. How holy your memories, the things you had seen were. Something you would never get back, not with time, not with healing.

You tried to push yourself up a little to breathe, seeing as your face was stuffed into a fluffy white pillow. But Touya wasn’t having that. As soon as you moved, the flat of his palm pressed down on your upper back, making your attempt futile. You settled for turning your head to the side. And what you see shocks you. More like, who you see. You hadn’t realised that Shigaraki followed you two up here. And now, your eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape at seeing him sitting on a plush chair in the corner, playing some game on his phone. Unbothered much? Goals fr.

You feel the release of your corset as Touya finishes ripping out the cord. He turns you over onto your back, thighs straddling your hips, and he tears the bodice from your body. Your hands reflexively come to your chest, covering your exposed breasts. That earns you creased brows and a tensed jaw from Touya. When he looks at you expectantly, urging you to drop your hands, you shake your head and then tilt it in Shigaraki’s direction. Touya reassures you, “Don’t worry about him.” His fingers wrap around your wrists pulling and pushing them down to your sides. “Pay attention to me.” You bite your lip and nod.

Touya runs his fingers over your chest, leaving burning-hot, red streaks across the porcelain skin. You shiver beneath his touch, his skin impossibly hot. The heat radiates and seeps into your body, your bones, with every single one of his touches. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, enjoying the effect he’s having on you. He leans down, lips leaving kisses and nips on your décolletage, making his way down to your full breasts. He bites at the flesh, sucking hickeys on the softness. You mewl the sensation, breath getting caught in your throat. Your fingers are back in his hair, gripping it tighter once he takes your nipple into his blazingly hot mouth. You cry out in pleasure.

Amidst the sensations turning you into a gooey mush beneath your lover’s fingertips, you can feel the cool, late night breeze on your skin. You turn your head to the side, seeing the window cracked open halfway. The view is stunning. The lake in clear view, only slightly hindered by the dense trees. It glistens the way it did when you were last outside. When Denki was still— You bite back at the thought, telling yourself that you would deal with the consequences of this all later. Right now, you just need to feel this. To feel him.

You moan, back arching slightly as Touya tongue drifts across your skin. The searing saliva like cold water painting your body because of the breeze. A break from his heat.

Touya’s hands come to your ribs, gently gripping them, feeling the ridges beneath and between his fingers, and pushing you back down onto the blankets. You bite your lip, sigh-moaning. He groans at the sight of his handprints on you once he trails his fingers down your stomach.

You’re bucking your hips, mewing his name as his fingers curl beneath the waistband of your white skirt. He chuckles, proud that he can get his little girl this riled up with such little foreplay. He begins to pull it down, but the skirt won’t budge without hurting you; it’s caught on your wide hips.

“Touyaaaa,” you moan. His brows furrow.

“How the fuck do I get this off you?” You giggle in response.

He speaks through tense teeth, “Where’s the zip?” He’s gripping your hips tightly through the skirt, trying to stop you from moving around so much. He loves how needy you are but he wants you to be patient. Something you’re not very good at.

“At the back,” you coo.

Armed with that knowledge, he grips the waistband, reefing it to the side so that he can see the zip. He pulls the zip down, dragging the skirt over your legs. Next, he removes your knee-high boots. He takes a few nips and bites at your calves and shins once pulling them off. You gasp in shock. You were so exposed now. The breeze like water washing over your body, basking it in coolness. All that was left was your halo headband and panties.

Leaning down, he stripped you of those too before returning to his spot between your legs, his lips and tongue on your stomach. He kisses down the length of it, giving the sides of your waist and hips extra attention. You love the sensation of his teeth drawing in the flesh over your hip bones. It has you squealing and moaning. It has your arousal pooling in between your legs. You feel grateful that your heat isn’t pressed against him. At least, not yet. That would be too much for you to handle right now.

And he doesn’t stop there. Soon, he’s raising your legs and draping them over his shoulders, leaving love bites all over your inner thighs. You can feel his hot breath fanning your pussy. It has you drawing in a shaky breath, waiting for his head to dip down and give you what you’ve been needing for the past couple months.

You moan loudly once his tongue is slipping through your folds, hitting all the right spots and leaving you shuddering in pleasure. He goes hard, sucking and slurping your cunt like it’s his lifeline. A slew of moans alongside the wet sloppy sounds of your pussy fill the room.

“Touya! Touyaaa.” You keep repeating his name as his tongue circles your clit, taking it into his mouth. The heat makes you melt even more into a blubbering mess of slick, sweat, and blood. You squeal as he slips his finger into you, no warning. You’re up on your elbows, looking down at him as he continues sucking your clit, smirking all the while, and drawing his finger in and out of your sopping hole. Your back arcs at a particularly deep push in of his finger, your elbows giving out. You moan at the sensation.

Seeing how much you enjoyed that, he adds another finger. Only two and you already feel so full of him. Touya might not have thick fingers, but their length plunges so deep into you. They have you mewling like his cock will once he slips it into you.

He continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, leans back slightly to take in the sight of his girl at his complete mercy. His thumb flicks over your clit, pressing hard while his fingers curl, hitting your g-spot. You can’t control the moans and whines that slip past your mouth once you feel that, and how they continue to spew from you as he continues to repeat the movement over and over again.

And then, he stops. Touya draws his fingers out of you. You watch, mind hazy with pleasure, what happens next. Touya sits back fully, your legs falling from his shoulders. He looks off to the side, the sight of him something else with the blood now mostly dried, chains stained as well as his exposed chest.

He calls out, “Shigaraki.” The blue-haired boy looks up, scrunching up his brows.

“What?” He asks, annoyance evident in his tone. Touya smirks.

“Come over here.” Shigaraki rolls his eyes.

Touya repeats himself, “Come here.” Shigaraki groans, dropping his phone onto the chair as he rises from it and comes to stand off to the side of the bed.

Your eyes are glued to Touya raising the fingers that were just inside of you to Shigaraki.

Touya stares at the boy beside him as he says, “Taste her. She’s as good as she looks.” Shigaraki’s red like the blood staining your body’s eyes flick between you and Touya’s soaked fingers before leans down and takes them in his mouth.

Your eyes widen. You never would have thought in a million years that you would see Shigaraki sucking Touya’s fingers, let alone sucking your juices off of Touya’s fingers. The blue-haired boy pulls back and shrugs.

“A bit sweet,” is all he has to say about you.

Touya chuckles, “You know, Shigs, if you’d ever tasted a woman before then you would know the difference between what tastes good and what doesn’t.”

Shigaraki narrows his eyes at his friend. It’s not a secret among his friend group that he’s not… particularly experienced. And he seems to like it that way. Doesn’t mean though that they don’t give him shit for it whenever possible.

“I don’t need to.” This only makes Touya laugh more.

“Sure sure, Shigs. Why don’t you get back to your game or whatever?” Touya throws his head back now in laughter. But, the blue-haired boy just stands there, staring at Touya. It’s clear that he’s teetering on the edge of retreating into nonchalance and… and something else. You sit up, biting your lip.

“Touya,” you say. Your arms are covering your chest, trying to preserve what little of your dignity you have left in Shigaraku’s presence.

Touya rolls his head to the side, looking at you before rolling his head to the other side and looking up at Shigaraki.

“What? You wanna have a go? Think I’d share my girl with you?” Touya’s smiling, eyes almost closed from how wide his grin is.

Shigaraki grumbles, “Of course not.” He steps back and starts to walk back to his spot when Touya half gets up, one of his legs on the floor, the other still beneath his body. His fingers grasp Shigaraki’s forearm.

“I’m just fucking with you jeez, Shigs. Come here.”

Now you’ve got goggle eyes like a dead fish. Did you hear that quite right? Did that-does he mean?

Shigaraki shakes Touya’s hand off, turning back around to look at the both of you. Touya looks back at you. He settles back down on the bed, leaning over to you and pushing you down. Your hands are on his chest.

“Touya.” Your voice has jumped an octave or two.

“Touya,” you say with more urgency.

He sighs, “Shh, babe.” Your back is pressed into the soft blankets again.

“You don’t mind if he joins us, do you?” You let out a little whine, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. The pink-red flesh slips, its fullness rounding out perfectly. Touya traces it with his thumb slowly. Sexily.

“Touyaaa,” you whine again.

He shakes his head before reassuring you, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be right here.”

You could feel your heart fluttering, stuttering. Your cheeks set aflame. You just didn’t think that this would ever actually happen. Even the thought of… of Shigaraki seeing you in this way and Touya allowing it never-never crossed your mind. You felt so unprepared. You press your fingers harder into Touya’s solid black and red-stained skin. You nod.

“Okay just, just please… Take care of me.” Your eyes look so round, your lips so plump, so delicate, in Touya’s piercing eyes. He gives you a gentle peck before leaning back and hopping off the bed. He claps a hand on Shigaraki’s back, giving him a final word of advice.

“She’s all yours now. Just be careful, yea? ‘Lax on the teeth.” You gulp as Touya laughs. Shigaraki rolls his eyes.

“Whatever.”

He kneels down on the bed, shifting to take Touya’s place. You place your legs on either side of him, nibbling on your lips nervously. Your gaze flickers up to Touya, giving him pleading eyes, as he stands back. His arms are crossed over his chest, a sadistic smile on his lips. You look back to Shigaraki. He seems… confused. He slowly wraps his cold hands around the underside of your thighs, pushing them closer to you so he can get a better look at you. You feel nervous, sweat beginning to bead down your back. You feel so bare under Shigaraki’s careful eye because you are. And you hope that he has an idea of what to do in the position he’s in.

He meets your eyes for a long moment, staring into them with such intensity you have yet to see. It was almost as if he was getting ready to prove you wrong. To prove Touya wrong about what he could do to a woman and how he could make her feel. He breaks the stare, licking his chapped lips hungrily as he moves one of his hands closer to your heat. You can feel his fingertips lightly ghosting over your clit and folds. Enough to send shivers (good ones thankfully) throughout your entire body. You suck in a breath. Fierce eyes flicker, watching your reaction. He does the movement again, dragging his fingers through your folds firmer this time. This earns a small moan from you.

You know for a fact that you are soaked down there, so it comes as a surprise when he spits on your pussy. He uses his fingers to spread the saliva, massaging it into your tender, soft skin. Your breathing is hitching. At last, he brings his face down. You feel his nose graze your clit as his warm tongue licks from your hole up to it. Your breathing catches. He keeps going, slow and steady. He listens to how you react when he applies pressure in certain spots, soon picking up on how much you enjoy it when he stimulates your clit. His thumb grazes over your hood and he takes the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth.

You moan as he sucks on it, his tongue swirling over and around it. He continues and you feel his teeth graze your clit. The sensation has you pressing yourself up on your elbows, your hand coming to his cheek and pulling his head back. He looks up at you, a line of spit connecting your soaking pussy and his lips. You shake your head.

“No teeth, at all, okay?” He hums in response before sitting up. He gives you this look. It’s almost like a warning. To be cautious. You tilt your head to the side, confused.

Cool fingers grab your searing hips and pull you forward so that your ass is pressed against his clothed chest, thighs on his shoulders. You moan, arching your back as you feel his tongue slip into your hole. He explores you, the way you taste. You’re like putty in his mouth the way you seem to soften and slip.

You let him hold you, and then he flicks his tongue and you’re pressing your hips up again as your back arcs. For the next few, you go from looking up at white ceiling to squeezing your eyes closed, looking at Shiggy and then looking at Touya. You can barely focus on the glint in your partner’s eyes. The way he likes seeing you so merciful and shameless. He’s glad Shigaraki actually has some idea of what he’s doing (as if) and if he doesn’t, then you’ll take charge.

From the sounds of your filthy mewls, Touya knows you’re getting close and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your climax.

“Shigs,” he says, voice low. The blue-haired boy stops his ministrations. His unruly hair falls back as he looks up, licking his now soaked lips.

“Save me some, will you?” Shigaraki smirks.

“You can have her back now.” He looks down at his work — you breathless and dazed, saliva and slick running down your tummy and ass — satisfied. He gently sets you back down on the bed, tongue on your body from your pussy, up and over your stomach and through your breasts, up your neck to the soft skin beneath your ear where he nips. Your arms wrap around the back of his neck and for the first time, your faces come close. You’re looking up at him with lustful, lazy eyes while he’s looking at you with a cocky smirk on his lips. He leans down, closing the gap between you and gives you a tender, slow kiss. His first kiss.

You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself all over his tongue that glides against yours. His arms are wrapped around your upper back, pulling you deeper into him. It’s only when Touya clears his throat that Shigaraki pulls away from you.

He says, “Actually, Shigs. I think we should share for the night. I bet [y/n] would like that, wouldn’t you doll?” You let out a strangled noise, more like a moan than a hum. Touya chuckles. Shigaraki’s forehead creases as he looks from Touya to you and back.

He sighs, “And waste my time?” An irritated noise comes from your throat on instinct.

“Shiggyyy,” you mewl. You have his attention at once.

“Am I really a waste of your time?” You sound much more hurt than you actually are at his words. Shiggy looks taken aback by your sudden emotional sensitivity.

“Yes.”

Touya’s hand grips his shoulder, pulling him back from you. He leans down as whispers but not really as you can still hear him in the blue-haired boy’s ear, “If a woman asks you if she’s a waste of your time, the answer is always ‘No’.” Touya’s voice quietens so you strain to hear it, “To her face, anyways.” Shigaraki looks unamused by his friend’s ‘helpful’ tip.

Touya pulls back now, speaking at his usual volume in his usual offhand manner, “Suit yourself though. I trust that if you don’t wanna be up ‘ere with us then you’ll be taking care of what’s downstairs.”

To think, a boy lie dead downstairs. And you were just bucking your hips like a bitch in heat and crying out for more. Disgusting. Unfortunately true.

At this, Shigaraki seems to liven up. He retorts, “I’d rather suck your dick than do your bidding.”

Touya laughs, “That can be arranged. What do you think, my pretty girl?” You shake your head, sitting up too.

“Only I get to do that,” you tease.

Touya says through his smirk, “You heard her. Now, get downstairs if you’re not gonna be of any use up ‘ere.”

Your boyfriend lets go of Shigaraki’s shoulder and comes closer to you. You grin as he pulls you into a rough kiss. His teeth bite into your lower lip, his tongue exercises dominance over yours. He leaves your lips, peppering kisses and bites on your chin and neck, just missing your wound. Once he pulls back, he grabs your hands and puts them on his chest, giving you the hint to take off his clothes. You comply, unbuttoning the only two buttoned-buttons on his shirt and pushing it back, helping him to pull it off. You remove his devil-horns headband, casting it to the side. Next, you go for his belt. You unbuckle it and look up, your [e/c] eyes meeting his blue ones. You raise your eyebrow, silently asking him how he wants you to do this. He catches your meaning as he’s caught it many a time before and slides off of the bed. He leans over to you and grips your forearms, helping to pull you off it.

You’re unsteady on your feet, falling into him from your awfully weak knees. He grins, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently pushing you down to your knees. All while, Shigaraki watches. He hasn’t moved an inch since Touya’s demand-request.

You untie Touya’s shoes and pull them off before unzipping his trousers and pulling them off too. You run your hands up and down his inked-pale legs, gripping his thighs before moving your hands to cup his erect cock. You can see and feel how hard it is through his bloodied trunks. You smirk as he groans into your touch. You apply pressure at the base before running your hand along his dick. “Don’t make me wait, love.” You giggle in response, hands in the waistband and his underwear down his legs and off.

You love the sight of him. So swollen and hard, precum leaking out of the tip. Touya’s eyes are on you, waiting for you to suck him off. You grasp his tip, thumb in his slit before spreading his precum down his shaft. You sloppily suck the tip, saliva dripping down the length of his cock. You can taste the salt of his precum and the metallic-ness of… of Denki’s blood. You pull your mouth off of him, licking your other palm and using two hands to jerk him off. You do so for a little, enjoying watching him get all worked up. He presses his hips forward, the look in his eyes begging you to just take him back in your warm mouth.

The outside breeze ruffles your loose curls and cools the saliva on his cock, causing him to suck in a breath. You give him what he wants. Your big eyes look up at him as you take his tip back into your mouth. You bob your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks. One hand grips his base tightly while the other cups and fondles his balls. He’s groaning and panting hard at how good your mouth feels. And soon enough, he needs more.

You feel Touya’s fingers wrap around your locks, close to your roots. He steadies your head and rocks his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth. Your hands hold his thighs as he fucks your dirty mouth. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and he can’t take his off of you. You moan into his cock and Touya stops thrusting, instead gripping the back of your head with his other hand and shoving his entire cock down your throat. His white hair tickles your nose as you gag around him, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He likes it when you choke on his dick and cry for him.

He keeps you like that, thrusting his hips slightly back and forth so you deep-throat him. You’re gagging and crying, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. After a minute or two, he gives you the reprieve you deserve, pulling your head back so his cock falls from your mouth. He tilts your head back so his angel is looking up at him and wipes your tears away. You sniffle and grab his wrists with your small hands. You smile up at him. There’s no other man whose cock you would so willingly choke on but Touya’s.

“Good girl,” Touya mutters under his breath. He leans down, locking his hands under your shoulders and helping you up to your feet. Your bodies press into one another and you share another passionate kiss. Your height difference means that Touya’s cock springs against your lower tummy. You moan as his fingers pull at your hair. Your back arcs into him in response. He pulls away, spit dripping down your chin. He wipes it off with his palm, really noticing now how much enjoys seeing your mascara ruined and blood speckled and smeared on your face.

He turns to the side, bringing you with him. He looks over you, arms around you tight, at Shigaraki.

Touya teases, “Thought you didn’t wanna waste your time?” He raises an eyebrow and you giggle. You turn around, Touya’s arms wrapped below and over your breasts. You both look at the boy sitting on the edge of the bed. He huffs, looking away from you both.

“I hate you.” You giggle and lean back, looking up at Touya. He’s staring at Shigaraki. You bite your lip playfully and look back to the blue-haired boy. You tug at Touya’s arms and he releases you.

You walk over to Shigaraki. Seeing how he’s rather intent on ignoring you, you place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to face you. He stares up at you, lips pressed into a hard line once again.

You say quietly, “Shigaraki” He sighs. He reaches out to touch your shoulder but stops just short, hesitant. You gnaw on the side of your lower lip, curious and nervous about him. About what he wants.

You continue, “If you join Touya and I, you can touch me all you like. Is that something you want?” He shakes his head, smiling sadly.

“I hate touching.”

You nod, “I know. But…” You’re hesitant to outright ask him to join. You don’t want to pressure him into something he doesn’t want to do. And you’re already getting the hint that he’s feeling conflicted about the whole situation, regardless of what you or Touya want.

You step back, your hand falling from his cheek. But, he catches it. His red eyes meet yours as he raises your hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of it.

“Don’t bore me,” he says. He stands up, scarred fingers hooking beneath the hem of his loose black shirt and pulling it off. You smirk, looking at Touya. You wish you could wiggle your brows like Mina can. If you could, this would have been the moment for it.

The warm glow of the lamp illuminates his pale skin; shadows cast on his surprisingly taut muscles. Your hands go to his jeans, unbuttoning them. Before you can pull them off, he pulls you into another kiss. This one is much deeper and hungry than the last. This one causes slick to pour from your pussy. You can feel it trailing down your thighs from how hard you’re pressing them together. Sucking Touya’s cock definitely didn’t help in that department, and now Shigaraki’s lips on yours, his fingers gripping your flesh is sending you overboard.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

You scream out as Touya thrusts into you roughly from behind. Your delicate hands grip Shigaraki’s pecs as you rock forward to their rhythm. You’re straddling him, cock pumping into your pussy as Touya’s does into your ass. You’re a moaning mess. Your back arcs with every movement. You’ve never felt so full before. The sensations familiar yet foreign, bringing you pleasure and pain in the stretch. You can feel Shigaraki’s red eyes on you, his stare intense. He’s watching how you fall further apart with every thrust in and draw out. How you can barely keep breath in your lungs. How you bite down on your lip over and over again. He reaches up and grabs both sides of your face, drawing you down and pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

You’re sent forward, squealing into Shigaraki’s mouth as Touya slaps the fat of your ass cheek. You break away from the kiss, head down as you shift further forward. Touya encourages you, his hand pushing your lower back down so that you lay against Shigaraki. Your head slips into his pale shoulder, light blue waves tickling your forehead resting on his collarbone. All of your moans and whines right below the boy’s ear.

Touya picks up the pace, fucking you harder and harder. Your arms wrap tight around Shigaraki’s neck as your mind goes blank, trying to comprehend the feelings, the buried desires, your boyfriend is setting alight in your body. You feel Shigaraki’s hand come to the back of your head, fingers threading into your now matted curls. His other arm wraps around your upper back, steadying you as he follows Touya’s lead, thrusting faster and deeper into you.

No longer can you feel the cool breeze filtering through the open window for all you can feel is the hot, slick, stick of your bodies pressed together. Your body begins to tremble, shoulders shaking as you feel wave after wave of pleasure crash throughout your body. Your moans have turned into whimpers and whines, mewls, shrieks. You feel yourself getting worked up with emotion. A familiar swell rises in your throat. And before you realise it, tears are streaming down your cheeks.

Shigaraki looks down at you, alarmed at hearing you begin to sob. The wetness of your tears and breath dampens his skin. He looks up at Touya who either hasn’t realised or remains unfazed.

He grunts out, “She’s crying.” Touya chuckles short, licking his lips.

“Good.” He wraps his inked hand around the front of your neck, pulling you back and leaning down so that his lips are by your ear.

“You like this, don’t you baby?” You whine out your agreement. Shifting your head slightly to catch his lips in a rough kiss. His teeth tear at your already bitten lower lip, the soft flesh swollen at this point. His tongue dominates yours in a dance, spit dripping, teeth gnashing. You can only moan into it. He pulls back, smirking at seeing how he’s fucked you into such a state.

You practically collapse onto Shigaraki’s chest, going back to holding him tight, trying to steady yourself in this moment.

You don’t have to try for long though as Touya abruptly stops, pulling out of you. Shigaraki is far more confused than you are, looking at his friend with furrowed brows. You’re just grateful for a minute of rest. A very short minute, might I add. Touya leans over you, picking you up and re-positioning you so that your legs rest on his shoulders, your back pressed to Shigaraki’s chest. You’re mewling as Touya eases Shiggy’s length into your ass, giving you a few seconds to adjust before he rams himself into your cunt. Your back arcs reflexively, your hands gripping your breasts. Touya wastes no more time, pounding into you as he was before.

You swear you’re seeing stars from the way this feels. You’re squealing with every squelching plunge of their cocks into you. You can’t stop crying, the pleasure far too overwhelming. You call out their names through tears, your voice shaking as much as you are. It was as though you were in heaven. But that couldn’t be right because the way your body was begging for more was so sinful. In this moment, you couldn’t care less whether this was right or wrong, holy or unholy. All you wanted was the sweet release coiling in the pit of your stomach.

“T-Touya! Touya.” He leans down, folding you, his hands pressing into the sheets beside Shigaraki’s head.

“What is it?” He says. His voice is gruff, rasping. You cross your ankles behind his head, your eyes staring into his. You try to tell him what you mean with your eyes. He’s usually very good at picking up on your non-verbal meaning. But sometimes, he likes making you say the things you would rather leave unsaid. Like right now.

“Come on, doll. Tell me,” he demands. He grits his teeth as you scream out at his particularly merciless thrust. Your eyes roll upwards, your head tipping back naturally. You’re rendered speechless, mentally begging Shigaraki to catch your meaning and speak for you. He doesn’t.

“Uh,” the boy groans. “Think she’s uh. Nearing her end?” Red eyes meet blue in an exchange of understanding. Touya grins wide at this revelation (that he totally didn’t pick up on before you even opened your mouth).

He teases you, hand wrapping around your neck, finger beneath your jaw. He pulls your head back forward, moaning as you look at him. He loves seeing you so fucked out.

“Is that what you were tryna say? You gonna cum for Shigs and I? Is that what you meant?” His fingers press into the sides of your neck, earning a yelp from you. You do your best to nod, lips slightly parted and pouty. But that’s not all you wanted to say.

Your voice comes out breathy and broken, “I want-want you t—” You throw your head back once again at the sensation of how deep the boys are in you. You swear your guts are gonna be re-arranged with how harshly they’re fucking you right now.

Touya raises his voice but you know he’s still playing with you. “What?! Spit it out already.” His hand shifts up your neck, fingers coming to grip your jaw. You swear he’s already bruised you there, fingertips pressing into all of the sore spots. You whimper.

“Touya. Calm down,” Shigaraki groans out. Touya’s gaze flickers up to him for a second before coming back to you. He’s smushing your cheeks together, waiting for your confession. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, body bouncing with each thrust.

You mewl, “You to cum-in me-please.”

He continues teasing you, saying, “Just me?”

“N-no,” you whine, choking out another sob. Touya licks his lips, looking past you to Shigaraki.

He teases, “You ‘ear that? She’s such a filthy slut, isn’t she?” He lets go of your chin, stroking your face from your forehead to your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Such a dirty girl with such a sweet face. You gonna be a good girl for us and take it?” You nod, a crying, pathetic mess.

Touya leans back, pushing the back of your thighs into your chest and holding your legs by your ankles in one hand, the other smacking your ass. He fucks you at a brutal pace. Shigaraki gladly matches it. You cry harder, head rolling to the side and eyes finding Shigaraki’s. His fingers thread back into your hair, gently pulling your head back and drawing you into another kiss.

He’s never really thought about how this would feel. How tight a woman could feel wrapped around his girth, drawing him in and squeezing around him. How she would look up at him, big doll eyes, and plead him to keep going. To keep pleasuring her. How she would taste. How she would sound. The foreign feelings that would rise in his body. Feelings he doesn’t know how to handle. What he does know is that he’s drunk on your lips, on every moan and whine you make, the taste of you, the scent of you. He can’t get enough of you just like this.

Once more, you pull away, head lolling to the back and side. You can feel your climax coming in hard and fast, knot tightening and tightening until it’s about to snap. So good it hurts. Shigaraki’s fingers are on your clit, making your fit of sobs and mewls even louder and erratic. You squeeze your eyes shut tight like you clench your walls around their cocks. You’re getting closer and closer. Any second now you’re going to burst.

And then, you do. When the pleasure hits, you scream. Sobbing and seeing the universe. You’ve never felt anything like this before. The sensations convulsing throughout your body are unlike any other. They take you to heights you’ve never been. They have you calling out the filthiest shit between tight teeth. You hear Touya and Shigaraki’s groans, their hot seed shooting ropes into you. Your back is arched so much that the top of your head touches the blue-haired boy’s chest. You feel so so so full of cock and and cum.

You’re shaking in fits as your orgasm begins leaving your body. Tears and sobs rack through you. Touya pulls out of you, seeing how you’re trembling. He leans over your body, hand cupping the back of your head and bringing your face to the crook of his neck. His other arm is wrapped around you, hand rubbing circles on your back.

He comforts you, “Shh shh, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay.” He holds you, soothing you and helping you to calm down. As he does so, Shigaraki pulls out of you, a whimper slipping from your lips. He shifts to the side, allowing Touya to manoeuvre you onto your side and lay down with you. Warm light catches on blue hair as Shigaraki grabs the bloodied blankets kicked off the bed. He drapes them over your bodies, arms wrapping around your lower tummy and head resting on the back of your shoulder.

Your cries have quietened down by now, the final shudders and sobs passing through your body. You feel so heavy, so exhausted. No thoughts in your mind, your breathing slows. You pay no attention to the cum dripping from your pussy and ass, smearing your thighs and dripping down onto the ruined bed sheets.

“Just go to sleep,” Shigaraki mutters into your skin. You mean to reply but don’t, letting the darkness and release swallow you whole, sending you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

You groan, the morning light filling your vision as you flutter your eyes open. Your surroundings come into focus. Black curtains open, bright sunlight illuminating a messy desk and black coat messily heaped into a corner on the wooden floorboards. You turn over, hoping to see Touya’s sleeping frame but unfortunately, he’s already gone. You must have slept in. Wasn’t his class at 9am? You squint, making out 09:36 on the digital alarm clock on his bedside table.

You sit up and get out of Touya’s bed. Quickly making it, throwing on one of his shirts, and then walking out into the hallway. You look heavenward, silently praying that you’re able to avoid everyone. And your prayers go unanswered. You yawn as you open the bathroom door, Shigaraki cursing you with his toothbrush in his mouth. You giggle and come over to the basin, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing your toothbrush and squeezing white paste onto it. He rolls his eyes at your gesture. You wet the brush with warm water and raise it to your mouth. As you brush your teeth, your eyes naturally gravitate to the freshly healed mark on your neck.

You remember how afraid you had been that night. How painful it was. How pleasurable. But now, it brought a smile to your face seeing Touya’s initials carved into your delicate skin for eternity. Shigaraki spits, rinsing his mouth and leaving you alone in the bathroom. You’re done pretty soon, rinsing your mouth and cleaning yourself up.

As you do so, you can’t stop smiling to yourself. It’s not like this is your first time sleeping over at your beloved’s place. But, there was something so spell-binding, so soul-gripping about slow, sensual sex and hot tea afterwards, especially since you were finally ready after the last time… and since his initials were engraved on your neck now. You have to stop yourself from moaning at the thought of last night.

You leave the bathroom, heading back to Touya’s room to get changed into something more suitable before going downstairs to the kitchen.

Himiko sits at the marble island bench, watching Jin fry scrambled eggs. You greet them both, grabbing a glass of water and plopping down on the stool next to Himiko. She leans over and gives you a warm hug before drawing back.

Jin tuts, “You two shouldn’t be so loud, you know.” You bite your lower lip and laugh nervously, looking down. “You heard?”

Himiko chimes in, “Hard not to. These walls are so thin!” You can feel the blush rising in your cheeks.

You defend yourself, “We were trying to keep it down, I swear. We didn’t keep you up, right?” Jin laughs, cracking two more eggs for you. Their goo drips and crackles as soon as they hit the pan.

“We’re just teasing you, [y/n]. Actually, it wasn’t too bad this time.” To say you were embarrassed was the understatement of the year. All you can manage is a stuttered, “O-oh.”

Himiko and Jin laugh at you. You look down at the marble. They don’t give it up, teasing you until Jin places three plates of scrambled eggs and avocado toast on the bench. You thank him and dig into your meal. It tastes so good! You moan in satisfaction, earning stares from the two blonds before they laugh at you even harder. Their joy is infectious.

After you finish your breakfast, you run back up the stairs and head into Touya’s room. You grab your phone, about to text him of your embarrassment, but you already see a message from him.

mafia boss: this little runt is pissing me off

mafia boss: [image attachment]

mafia boss: get rid of him for me?

You giggle to yourself, clicking on the image. You don’t need to look for long though, the drawn circle around half red-half white hair telling you all you need to know.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #x female reader #established relationship #fem!reader #mha dabi #dabi #touya todoroki #mha touya #touya x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #touya todoroki x reader #serial killer dabi #★’s works

116 notes · View notes