#extra splash of half n half

[8lyme]

Heat Rises

Logan Howlett x f!Reader

SUMMARY: The mansion is boiling hot

WARNINGS: excessive use of italicisation, borderline dirty thoughts, makeout scene bc that's the best i can do, maybe ooc bc I fear I imagine Logan a little funnier than he actually is.

a/n: the ac in my room broke and inspiration struck after I doomscrolled through wolverine edits on tiktok ... chat i love men

It was hot. Boiling. Stifling.

You woke up at 2 a.m. drenched in sweat, sucking in a deep breath of hot, stale air. Grogginess fading, you stumble from your bed while pulling of your shirt and pajama pants. You open the door to the bathroom and turn the cold water on in the sink.

The heat was dripping down your back despite your lack of clothing. Overheating and still half-asleep, you stuck your head into the stream of cold water, splashing over your neck and across your shoulders.

You straighten to tie your hair up before turning the water off and running your still cold hands down your arms. The patter of thudding sounded outside your door, and you move to dress in a thin tank top and shorts.

You let your eyes adjust to the light as you began walking down the hallway of the mansion. A few children slipped out of their rooms in similar sweaty conditions to follow you down the staircase and onto the main floor.

Gathered by the professor's office were Scott, Storm, and Jean. The stray young mutants who trailed you settling around them.

"Goodmorning," You call out the the group.

"Do you know who turned this place into a boiler?" Jean asks. You both swipe sweat off your foreheads in sync while you shrug, shaking your head.

"Jesus, my glasses are gonna slide off my face," Scott complains, knocking his head against the wall in exasperation. He was shirtless, (rightfully so) wearing what you guessed were swim trunks.

"Charles is working on it," Jean put a hand on his shoulder, then quickly removing it to wipe his sweat off her hand and down the wall.

You turn to Storm, who was pulling the fabric of her tank top to fan herself off.

"Do we know where Bobby is?" You ask in search of the Iceman. You turned to scan the room, addressing the three students who followed you.

"Pretty sure him and Rogue took off before lights out," a young girl from the floor calls out. Her mutation rubberized her molecules, and her legs were in misshapen puddles - akin to flat stanley - due to the heat.

"Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here," a familiar voice groans loudly from behind you. "Nice shorts." Logan said to you before reaching your side.

"Alright fashion police," you respond in mock annoyance, offering a small smile at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He shot you a wink before turning away. When you caught full sight of him, your face froze and (if possible) more sweat rolled down your spine.

It was sickening how attractive he managed to look in what felt like the inside of an air fryer. Having clearly just woken up, his hair was perfectly tousled into a messier version of his normal tufts. His hair hardly looked damp despite the oiled-up glow he had on his face ...

And torso.

Fuck he was shirtless.

Although you've known Logan for the better part of a year, you unfortunately failed to experience him half-dressed. You'd been in close proximity frequently - sparring and other various training taking a large percent of that. You were friendly with each other, his acknowledgement of you with a nod whenever you walked in a room affirming he didn't hate you. You normally ate breakfast together, often offering the other the last portion of cereal or setting aside an extra cup of coffee for whoever entered the kitchen second. Within the last few months, however, after a particularly unfortunate mission gone wrong in almost every way, your friendship became more affectionate in those 'off the clock' moments.

Quick but firm hugs, slinging his arm over your shoulders, nudging each other with elbows or hips at inside jokes. He'd also been placing a hand on your back or shoulder every time he was in proximity to do so when moving behind you; in the kitchen, during briefings, even while you were grading papers in the library. He would touch your shoulder to let you know he was moving past you or going to sit next to you.

All that is to say you were aware - in theory - he was well built. He was taller and broader than you, so you made an educated guess. Theory proven, but well beyond expectations.

A month ago, you and Scott had stopped at a Texas Roadhouse an hour outside of the city after having spent two weeks clearing out a mutant experimentation lab in eastern Quebec. The plump and shine of the appetizer rolls (that you and Scott had both equally asked for seconds of) had absolutely nothing on Logan.

He damn near glistened. The dim light of the mansion sconces bronzed his skin, cutting him into an even more defined picture for you to look at. His chest expanded with each breath, shoulders and pecs slightly flexing in response. His hands lazed on his hips, if even possible causing the room's shadows to shade in the dips of his biceps and forearms. The veins of his arms just barely covered by the moisture-slicked hair covering his skin. If you had a fork and knife, you would throw them behind you to happily eat a piece of him with your hands.

You had to force yourself to swallow to shock your brain into looking anywhere else. You made an 'eaugh' sound and swiped your hands across your face. You meant it defensively, but you really were dripping into your eyes.

"I feel like I'm being waterboarded," you say disgustedly while wiping your palms on the back of your shorts. Feeling a texture that wasn't fabric, you turned your head. Glancing down, you understood Logan's earlier comment.

These shorts must have been from your freshman year of high school that somehow never got tossed or donated. They were a pair of (very) short, low-cut and dull pink velour Juicy Couture shorts with the word 'Juicy' spelled out in rhinestones on the ass. You actually felt like hurling as your body got even hotter.

You slowly turned your face away from the glittery stones on your booty to unfortunately glance in Scott's direction. His hands covering his mouth to block how obviously he was holding in a laugh.

"Scott, don't even look at me right now," you groan in exasperation, crossing your arms over yourself in attempted modesty. Scott's eyes glitter, and you snap "Keep your mouth shut" at him to no avail.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass?" He snickers. "In rhinestones?"

He's cracking up now with his hands in fists over his mouth. Jean bites a smile away and looks down, shaking to stifle a giggle. You look across the room to the kids who are choking down laughter themselves.

"Oh my fucking God-uh!" you again groan out, covering your eyes. "I really liked Jersey Shore when I was in High School, guys, leave me alone!"

Storm bursts into a laugh that inspires the others to join in. You're cracking up too, mortification disappearing. You glance at Logan through your fingers, who surprisingly seems to be choking back a laugh himself.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan clears his throat. "Save her from embarrassment?"

"Not how it works," She says. "I can't pull cold air or moisture out of this heat to create any snow." She looks at you and winks. "Sorry J-Wow, the shorts are staying on."

Scott about keels over with a snort before Jean thwaps him in the shoulder.

"If we bring you enough bags of ice, could you use that to cool the building down then?" Jean asks.

"In theory," Storm says. "I can stay here with the students to wait for the professor if you all don't mind searching for some. I'll need to conserve energy if I have to create a blizzard out of thin air."

"Copy. Divide and conquer," you say glancing at Logan again. The four of you turn to wander the mansion, but you stop to turn back to Storm.

"Also," you call back to her. "I'm so obviously Snooki."

Scott barks a laugh from the other corridor as you trot after Logan. He turns to meet you with a confused look on his face.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

Logan daydreamed about upper-cutting Scott with his claws unsheathed. He fantasized about throwing him down the stairs and curb-stomping him after. He imagined speeding over him on his own motorcycle and drilling him into the asphalt.

Right now, as your face flushed with embarrassment over your bedazzled booty shorts, he wished he had enacted any of those in reality so he had never, ever, heard Scott say a word about your ass.

Logan was used to waking up in a sweat, heart racing as he yelled out in anger (or fear, he couldn't tell which) from the nightmare that slipped from him the longer his eyes were open.

This time, he awoke uncomfortably hot and sprawled out diagonally above his sheets. He pushed himself up onto his knees and rubbed his eyes. He took a beat to wake himself up and stared at the clock on his nightstand blinking at 2:00 am.

He found it impossibly hotter in the hallway, swiping his palms on his pants every few steps. He regretted not scouring his room for shorts or even a pair of briefs. He moved down the stairs and rounded, following the sound of conversation. He dragged his sweaty palms across his pants again, groaning out; "Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here".

And then he almost tripped over his own feet.

You stood facing away from him, hands clasped on top of your head, in the tiniest clothing humanly possible. You wore a thin, strappy little yellow tank top that ghosted just under your ribs. In the dimmed lighting, your skin glistened, droplets of sweat gliding down your neck, your spine - fucking hell, was your sweat turning him on? - down your lower back, and -

Logan just about stopped in his tracks.

Impossibly tiny pink shorts clung to your ass, riding low on your hips. In glittering rhinestone, the word Juicy was bedazzled over the fabric. He felt like a dumb moth to a flame, trying to look like he wasn't seconds away from using his hands for some workplace misconduct.

"Nice shorts," he managed, trying to shake his head clear.

"Alright fashion police," you smirked up at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He winked at you, turning away to avoid staring at the beads sliding down your collar bone. Trying even harder to not imagine where the droplets would travel next.

Too focused on thinking about anything else in the world other than you, he blinked back into reality after Scott's voice grated his ears.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass? In rhinestones?"

Whatever you or anyone else responds with falls on his deaf ears. The only thing he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood. His face tightened and he clenched his jaw.

He coughed to clear his head and interject into whatever conversation he's too furious to tune in to.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan paused, coughing again to catch himself from saying anything related to freezing Scott solid so he can shatter him to pieces. He settled on "Save her from embarrassment?"

Once again, Logan half-listened and half-internally plotted extreme violence, perking back in at the sound of your voice. He turned to you as you catch up with him.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

You declined to continue to explain trash TV to Logan. You settled on "It's entertaining to watch people be out of touch with reality", to which he quipped back a "That's stupid", effectively shutting you up.

The both of you wandered to the kitchen, you fanning yourself as Logan tried not to burst a blood vessel while holding to his willpower to not watch you tilt your head back and exhale while uttering whines of complaint. He decided the amount that his was sweating coupled with the lack of sleep made him delusional. That's why his brain kept trailing back to the same thought: you.

You pulled open the bottom drawer of the fridge, exposing the freezer. The rush of cool air fanned at your skin, and you signed in relief.

"Logan," you call, eyes closed. You waved him over and he leaned next to you.

"Oh my god," he quietly uttered out, eyes closing in relief. "Oh my god, this is better than sex."

You snorted and slapped your hand to your mouth.

"Logan, shut the fuck up" you giggle. He snickers back with you, shoulders shaking.

"Aw man," you groan, staring into the freezer drawer. Inside, there was an empty popsicle box, an half-eaten pint of strawberry ice cream, and an unwrapped ice-cream sandwich with freezer burn. You and Logan met each other's eyes with matching disappointed expressions.

You shut the freezer drawer, straightening up.

"I think there's a freezer in the basement lab," Logan says, sweat instantly beginning to drip down his neck.

"Aw man," you respond, lifting your arms slightly as sweat slides down you as well.

"Come on, bub," He moves around behind you. You feel the familiar ghost of his fingers against your back, but you recoil away at the thought of more heat against your body.

Logan yanked his hand away like he had been burned, gaze raking from you to his hand. You keep walking, not realizing how far behind you he's trailing.

---

He tries to shake it off, he really does. He feels stupid for letting something so small seep into his head and twist his thoughts around.

It's just because it's hot, he thinks to himself. Rationally, yes, he knows that is the answer. And yet he stupidly can't help but overthink every interaction he's had with you.

He masks it with a stony expression. The walk to the elevator is sticky and humid. When you both step in, he strays as far away from you as he can.

You've felt the shift in energy from him. He's pressed against the curved wall, arms crossed over his chest. It's palpable, but you aren't the type to pry when Logan is brooding.

He slips out of the opening doors first, relinquishing in the slightly cooler air of the lab. You trail after.

The air is awkward now. You fumble in your brain for the right words to say to him. 'Are you okay?' doesn't seem to cut it.

You've come to understand Logan. He has a complicated relationship with feelings and is awful at communication. If you don't notice the energy shift and bring it up, it isn't getting spoken about.

You follow him to a white metal crate pressed near a cabinet of saline. It's clasped shut and luckily on wheels. The precipitation on the outside confirming this is what you were looking for.

You place your hands on the corners of the crate to slide it from the wall, but Logan damn near rips it out of your hands. He shoves it across the lab towards the elevator.

You stare at him in shock and confusion. Your thoughts whir as you replay every moment from the entire day, convinced that he's pissed at you. He seems pissed. He's acting pissed.

You reach the elevator just as the door slides open. You're trying to decide if you should say something. Trying to think of a way to approach this in a way that will actually get him to talk. The air in the elevator is thick, more so with his shift in attitude than with heat.

Logan is locking himself inside his head. He can’t organize his thoughts and all he feels is stupidity. He can't understand why he's over analyzing, much less what he's over analyzing.

He doesn't know it's basically radiating off of him. Unaware that you've been staring at him to try and decipher what's wrong.

You utter out "Are you okay?" just to cut through the thick silence (and hopefully the wall he's locked himself in). You're sure he hears you, but the sliding of the door gives him the perfect opportunity to continue to ignore you.

Again, you trail after him. The wheels scrape against the hardwood, a testament to how hard he is pressing into the metal.

You're confused, sweaty, and almost on the verge of nonconsensual tears when you reach Storm and the other kids. The girl from the floor has turned into mostly puddle. Everything besides the tip of her shoulders and up are deflated to the wood. The other kids have spread to the floor themselves.

Logan shoves the crate towards Storm.

"Alright," he says curtly, once again crossing his arms. "Cool this shit down."

You fiddle with your fingers as Storm unlatches the metal. Her eyes gloss over to a milky white while she lifts the lid. The temperature drops almost instantly, and you begin to shiver.

"Done," She says, blinking away the glaze. "Charles said that-"

"Great," Logan cuts her off with a slam of the metal lid. He slides it around before moving back towards the elevator. You glance back and forth between Storm and Logan for a second. When you meet her confused expression, she gestures back towards him.

Ignoring the comfort of your sheets and lack of emotional drainage, you jog after Logan.

---

He huffs at you when you reach his side.

"I can push a metal box by myself," he says dismissively.

"Okay," you say, just to get something in the air. "Am I not allowed to come with you?"

You regret even speaking anyways as he scoffs at you, kicking the crate into the opening of the sliding door. It hits the wall with a loud clang. You flinch, but you're more concerned about him to not slip into the door at the last second.

You hug yourself as you start to shiver. Logan rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and turns away from you to lean against the wall. For the third time tonight.

You are racking your brain. Screaming at yourself to say something, literally any words at all. It feels like you've been panic-searching your thoughts for anything to say for a while.

"Are we not moving?" You ask. You wait for an answer before repeating, calling him by name and moving to stand in front of him.

He huffs before standing straight. After a beat, he says "We're not."

"Shit, how should we -" You start, but are cut of by the metallic unsheathing of Logan's Claws. In a blur he rears back and slices through the door, scraping three parallel lines across the metal.

"Jesus Christ, Logan!" You snap out at him. The glare he gives you while his claws sink into his skin makes you back up into the wall.

"What the hell is your problem?" you say evenly.

He scoffs at you, muttering out "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You just sliced the wall open," You point out, gesturing to said wall. "And you're acting like you're pissed at me"

"You're imagining things," he says back, resuming his position against the wall with his arms folded.

"Oh, that's bullshit. You're literally sulking in the corner and you want to tell me that isn't happening."

Logan stays silent. You almost expect him to turn into the wall so he can pretend to not see you.

"Logan," you say, trying to catch his eyes. "Why can't you be upfront with me? It's very easy to say 'Hey, you pissed me off because of this' or 'Oh, something sparked a bad memory' or, I don't know, 'I don't want to talk about it' "

"I don't want to talk about it," he responds. You smack the back of your head into the wall behind you in exasperation.

"Oh my god, obviously that was just an example. Please just tell me what's wrong."

Logan raises his eyes to meet yours for just a second. You catch his gaze, and you can tell that he wants to tell you. When you quietly say his name he looks away.

"Logan, you’re being mean." Your eyes flick over him, trying to catch any more indication that he'll open up. He stays stoick, stubborn piece of shit. You decide to wait just a moment longer before giving up. If he's going to be this adamant about whatever happened, you aren't about to keep fighting him on it.

"Okay, you’re pissing me off and I give up" You spit, sinking to the floor. You draw your legs up and fold into yourself, the chill of the room sinking into your skin.

It takes a long, awkward amount of time sitting in silence before you her Logan speak.

"You're cold," he states.

"No, I'm not," you say into your arms. Shivering.

"You look cold," he once again states plainly.

"I'm not, stop talking to me."

"I thought you wanted me to talk," Logan retorts at you. You look up at him over your arms, seeing a smug look on his face.

"Yeah, if the words you say are 'Hey, I'm sorry I'm being a dickhead and shoving stuff around and slicing into walls and ignoring you. I'm just thinking about X,Y and Z, which is making me feel X,Y and Z,' and then I would say 'Oh my gosh Logan, I had no idea! I'm so sorry, I wish you told me so I didn't make a big deal out of it because I thought you hated me!" You snap at him, mocking his voice for emphasis.

He blinks at you, and you move your head back into your arms.

"I don't hate you," he says quietly.

"You're acting like it."

"I don't."

The softness in his voice makes you sigh. You decide to take it easy on him, and ask him to come to you.

"What?" he asks, hesitation evident in his tone.

"Can you come sit next to me, please?" You ask softly.

"Why?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"Because I'm cold and you run much warmer than I do."

He moves and sinks down beside you, thankfully. You scooch closer until your arm is against his. The warmth of his body radiates against yours.

"Can you please talk to me?" you break the silence. The smallness in your voice chips away at his resolve, but his pride is still in the way. He's embarrassed enough about being upset in the first place, he can hardly stand (much less find the words) to say anything to you.

"Look, I'll literally cover my eyes so I'm not even looking at you," you offer, covering your eyes with your palms. "Please, just tell me."

"It's stupid," Logan says, pride dwindling down.

"I don't care, I promise. Please, Logan," You plead.

He sighs loudly, searching for the right words. He stutters out a few syllables before managing a sentence.

"In the kitchen earlier, you flinched away from me. I don't know. Didn't feel great."

Your hands dropped from your face. He was staring down at the floor. He looked embarrassed, maybe downright ashamed. You gently placed a hand on his arm.

"Logan, I'm sorry. It was just so hot and I felt all gross and sweaty. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear."

"Okay," he says, but his eyes never left the floor.

"And that's not stupid. I freak out over the tiniest things in the world."

"Yeah?" he huffs out a small laugh, finally turning to you.

"Yes, duh, I'm a girl. One time you didn't sit in the stool right next to me and I had to suck my tears back in and I thought about it for two days straight," you told him.

"Because I didn't sit next to you?" he teases, and you push off of his arm in mock annoyance.

"Yes, I'm not kidding. I remember once when you came back from a mission you ignored me when I said 'hi' to you on the stairs and locked yourself in your room for almost two days. I was genuinely convinced you wanted me dead and I couldn't function until you'd brought me toast because you thought I was sick."

"You weren't sick?" He raises an eyebrow at you.

"No! I thought you wanted me to jump into oncoming traffic!" You laugh at yourself, feeling ridiculous after replaying those few days back in your head.

"Okay, okay, I get what you mean. I don't want you dead, by the way. Never will." His face has relaxed and the tension in the air completely dissipated. You tilted to rest your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat and enjoying the comfortable silence.

"Seems like I get you pretty worked up, huh?" Logan smiles to himself, knowing he'll get a rise out of you.

"I'm not answering that," you snort, giving him a side eye.

"Are you kidding me?" He says in a deadpan.

"No! I'm not answering that," you sputter, forcing an even tone out of yourself. "Why'd you get so upset about me moving away from you?" You shoot back.

"I'm not answering that," he says, and you now shove him away jokingly.

"Oh, come on!"

You both start to giggle at each other, needing to look at anywhere except at the other. Weight has been lifted off both of your chests, being stuck in the elevator long forgotten.

"So," Logan speaks, letting the word hang in the air for a second. He wonders if the feelings he's completely sure are mutual should remain unspoken. "Are either of us gonna do anything about," he gestures to the both of you. "Or..."

"Oh man, I was wondering which one of us was going to take the bait first," you giggle out to mask the nervousness settling in your chest. "You almost had me, I never figured you'd say anything."

"Did I?" He asks. You turn to him and meet his gaze, smirking at him. You hum happily after a few seconds, turning away from him to lean on his arm once more.

"So," Logan says again, so you mock him and echo the word back.

"So," he tries again, obviously wanting a certain response from you. You bite, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Oh my god, you can just kiss me. I'm cold, I'm not moving my arms," you say to him, earning a short laugh from him.

Logan moves and scoops you into him, sandwiching your arms between both your bodies. You slide one of your hands up him so that your fingertips reach his collarbone. His nose is just touching yours, and he tilts, barely touching your lips.

"So," he whispers against you. You snort and shove his face away with your free hand.

"Okay, nevermind! Get away from me!" You giggle, Logan following suit.

You feel Logan's hand move to the back of your neck, and you blink at him a few times with a small smile. Finally, he leans down to kiss you. You snake your free hand up to the side of his neck and grasp onto a few tufts of his soft hair. He leans into your touch slightly, so your curl your fingers in response.

One of his arms releases you to brace the floor for support, the other moving to hold you tighter. His fingers splayed across your shoulder blade as you slip your other arm out. You slide your hand up the side of his abdomen, almost moaning when the feeling of his back muscles reach your fingers.

You both pull away for a second to breathe before diving back into each other. Logan pulls you towards him, hand that was on the floor now sliding down your side to squeeze at the flesh of your hips.

He pulls back from you and presses and open mouthed kiss just under your ear. You crane your head back in response while feeling your way up the front of his body. Your fingers dip over the curves of his abs and over his chest, and then slide over his shoulder and down his arms. You think about the glisten of his body earlier in the night, the shadows of his muscular biceps and forearms.

"You and these damn shorts," he groans between the kisses he's now leaving on your collar. You let out a breathy laugh.

"I'll take them off later, they don't even fit," you say, pulling his face up so you can kiss him again.

"I hope you'll let me help," he says into your open mouth, causing you to squeeze your thighs together as you heat up.

The shrieking sound of metal against metal surrounds you both, and you shove Logan off you to scramble to your feet. He moves besides you, claws unsheathed on instinct.

The door of the elevator slowly slides open, coming to a halt while it's halfway open. Charles and Jean were waiting from the outside.

"There you both are," Jean huffs out. "You've been gone for about an hour."

"What time is it?" Logan asks, moving out into the mansion floor and sinking his claws back into his knuckles. You follow behind, the chill coming back to your skin.

"About 4:30 in the morning," Charles replies, gliding away from the opening of the metal door. "I suggest you all get some sleep while it's still early." He looks pointedly at you and Logan before rolling to face Jean.

"Agreed. Goodnight you two," Jean says, moving down the hallway to her room.

You and Logan make your way up the stairs, still buzzing. You stop at his door while he opens it. He turns to face you. Once again, you're back to staring at each other hoping you both can understand what the other is thinking.

"Well, good night Logan," You sigh. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

"You're not coming in?" He says while leaning against the door frame.

"Oh," you begin, a smile nervously making its way to your face. "Well ... I ..."

"I gotta help you with those shorts, remember?"

You can't help the soft laugh that leaves your mouth. You move towards him and step just into the doorway.

"I'll take all the help I can get," You say up at him. He takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arm and move you both through the door.

He turns you both, pressing your back against the wall next to the doorway, shutting the door as he molds his lips into yours. His hand slides under your flimsy yellow tank top as you hear the click of the door lock.

More than likely, neither of you were getting much sleep tonight.

[angelltheninth]

Alien Needs

Pairing: Miles Quaritch x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, mating cycle, size difference, rough sex, tail shenanigans, alien anatomy, size kink, being manhandled, dirty talk, creampie, blowjob, titfucking, fingering, breeding kink

Word count: 2.6k

Ao3

A/N: The Avatar movies really awakened everyone's inner alien fucker.

Quaritch wasn't someone to just vanish without a trace, not one to hide away when he comes across a problem, and certainly not the one to leave others to speak for him. It made no sense that you were speaking to your fellow scientists right now instead of him.

"And why exactly can't I see him? I'm his girlfriend, if there's something wrong I should be the first to know." You knew where he was, just down the hall, just a little more and you'd get to find out what's been happening.

If only this idiot moved, "I understand that ma'am. However the Colonel is going through some... unexpected side effects of having an Avatar. Nothing dangerous I assure you, it just might be best for him, and for you to leave him alone for now."

"I'm going to talk to him, thank you very much." You walked right past the man, leaving him a little flabbergasted before he tried to stop you.

"But ma'am, he's really-" His words died on his lips when you shot him a glare sharper then any knife, "The room is unmonitored as per the Colonel's request, so please signal us if you need anything." He straightened up and saluted you, his face a few shades paler then before.

You marched up Quaritch's door and pressed the button to slide them open. The sight wasn't that uncommon actually, other then the room being a complete mess, his bed more then anything else. But otherwise seeing him pace back and forth, looking deep in thought wasn't that odd.

His shoulders tensed when you stepped inside, followed by his entire body as he spun around, his face contorted in a snarl, muscles bulging as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Didn't they tell ya to stay out of 'ere?" He didn't sound quite like himself, more raspy, deeper, like he'd been screaming for hours. Based on the state of the room and the amount of sweat that he was covered in maybe he has.

"They did. I wanted to hear it from you. There's something wrong isn't there, with you Avatar?" You locked the door behind you, isolating the two of you from the world outside. You didn't particularly like spending a lot of time in here, it seemed so barren, too white, with the only dashes of color being from the window, the clothes and of course Quaritch himself, who was currently a very big splash of color seeing as he was only wearing loose witting combat pants.

You noticed that there was no belt and that the buttons were completely undone. Something must be really wrong if he couldn't even be bothered to get dressed right.

"It's natural apparently. For the Na'vi, so they said there's nothing ta worry about. Still I feel like if I was warned of a god damned mating cycle I might have reconsidered this whole thing." He snickered and ran his hand down his face and chin. "They never tell ya everything it seems like."

"M-Mating cycle?" You blinked slowly at him, letting his words sink in. "When did that start?"

"Bout three days go I think. Been feeling extra horny for a bout a week though. Now it's like-" He growled in frustration, "Fuckn' annoying as hell. No matter how much I yank it I just can't seem to calm down." There wasn't an ounce of shame in his words. Not to your surprise, he's been like that since you met him.

You bit you lip as you imagined him crouching down on his bed, pumping his cock in his hand without it going soft at all. Quaritch inhaled sharply, his pupils narrowing. You felt small under his gaze, you were small, half his size now, but this made you feel like you were his favorite food on display and he was gonna pounce on you any moment now.

"There anything I can do to help?"

"Help? Ya wanna help me with this? Look at me!" With no hesitation he pushed his pants down to reveal his cock. He was easily the size of your forearm, with the bulging deep blue head leaking with copious amounts of white cum. You can't even imagine what the inside of his pants looks like right now, "We're not compatible right now sweetheart."

Fuck. You could maybe, maybe take half of him. And that is a big maybe. Anything else would be dangerous. But by god did you want to see how far you could push that cock, how much of it would fit inside you, how it would fill you up.

"Why don't we give it a try? I've got more then one hole you know?" You beckoned him in a soft, sultry voice, your jacket and shirt abandoned on the floor, followed by you unzipping your skirt and clicking off your heels, coming to stand before him in your black underwear, his cock ending almost at the same height as your mouth. The perfect height.

"I am intimately aware of that fact. Ya could barely take two of my fingers last week, ya really think you can handle me now?" He towered over you, his eyes shining even in the brightly lit room. "I will break ya." He hissed with a hint of a smile. His thumb pushed into your mouth and you could taste the faint hint of his cum, it tasted different than a human's, stronger, but not overwhelming. "Ya really wanna do this? I can't guarantee I'll be able ta hold back, I can barely hold back now."

"You forget that I'm a scientist too, this could be an interesting experience, I could learn a lot." You placed both hands one behind the other on his thick cock, following the throbbing deep purple vein up and down.

"Volunteering yerself for it, yer a slut for science aren't ya?" Quaritch purred as you ran your hand up, down and around his cock, making sure to leave no spot unattended for long, "No, yer my slut now. Ya can have all the fancy diplomas ya want but the only thing yer good for is being a fuckhole for me."

Usually he only descended into dirty talk when he was beyond horny for your pussy, which must mean that he'd been like this for quite a while as he said. "I'm here to take care of you. That's my job. So I'm merely doing my duty."

"Not yet ya ain't." His hand could crush your skull if he applied enough force yet he only used enough to move your head to the big tip. You could barely get him past the head before your gag reflex hit. Lucky for you it was sensitive just like a human's so you could focus your mouth and tongue on it while making up for the rest with your hands.

Quaritch hummed in approval as you swiped his cum in your mouth with much gusto. This was an adjustment for him as well, had all these new instincts that he had no idea what to do with, how to properly manage them, especially ones like these. He was happy you were helping, even if he wasn't the greatest with words you could see it in his eyes. His nearly predatory looking eyes.

You pushed closer to him, pressing his cock between your boobs, the white spilling onto them, he was like an endless fountain of cum. He could probably paint you completely white with it. The thought was making a stain on your panties, urging you to bob your head faster, lick at the slit at the tip and make him tremble.

"Enough. Won't waste anymore seed." He growled, "Fuck. Why do I wanna... shit... gotta breed ya sweetheart. Breed ya good." He tilted and held you back by your hair, your mouth and chin stained with thick cum, "Gotta make ya ready."

He ushered you along to the bed and let you lay down after which he crawled toward you like a lion to it's prey, his toothy smirk matching.

"Show me my prize." His breath tickled your stomach as he kissed his way down stomach. He made short, almost no work of your underwear, tearing them to shreds in a blink of an eye. He smirked looking at the wetness pooling between your legs and seeping onto the sheets, mixing with the drops of his cum. "One or two?"

"One please." Two would be too much at once, you tried before when he bend you over in the med bay and it fucking hurt. Something light and fluffy tickled your pussy lips, followed by a smooth, firm press over your clit. You looked down to see Quaritch moving his tail over your cunt.

"Learned a few new tricks. Turns out this thing has plenty of uses." He leered at you smugly, circling his middle finger around your entrance. His tail lightly slapped on your clit right as he pushed his finger inside. "Way too tight. Need ta stretch ya out more first."

You nodded along, spreading your legs in response to give him an easier access to you. He hummed, wrapping his large blue hand on your hip to angle you up before he pushed his thighs under you, angling your pussy upwards.

This allowed you, and him, to have a perfect view of him fingerfucking you, the only things obscuring it for you being his tail rhythmically tapping on your clit, sensing ripples through your already quivering cunt. He pressed his finger close to your entrance, looking between it and you, asking a silent question which you answered with affirmation moments after.

Another finger entered you on the next thrust, certainly easier then before, your walls already slightly looser, making lewd squelching sounds as he pulled them in and out, your arousal smearing along your thighs and his hand. "Should I make ya come now?"

"Now. I wanna come now." You mewl twisting your fingers into the ruffled pillow.

"Do ya? After ya went against orders and decided to came in here when ya weren't supposed ta? I don't think ya earned an orgasm. Fucktoys don't get a say, they only get used." His tail trailed across your leg and wrapped around your left ankle, applying the tiniest bit of pressure. "Sadly for me, they don't exactly make fucktoys for the Na'vi. So I'll settle for your many holes instead."

"Wait... how long does your... mating season last?" You tried to think clearly, the scientist in you trying to take in as much information as possible through your current horny mindset.

"Hell if I know. I do know that, since yer already here, I want ya here with me. Let me take care of ya sweetheart. Take my fucking cock and I'll make ya feel so good." He bended his huge body over yours, looming you between the bed and himself, not in a trapping way but rather in a protective one. His hands pressed on both sides of you, his forearms bracketing your head.

You moaned at the intrusion of his broad cock at your pussy hole. As his cock came to a stop he was not even half way in, which made him growl in frustration. "I'm sorry." You cupped his face and gave him a soft kiss.

"Don't be. I can still fuck ya just fine." He gritted through clenched teeth. He was burning up, anxious and irritated but bent on fucking your brilliant brains out no matter the obstacle, very similar in him completing his missions as a soldier. "Feel that?" He pulled back and thrust back in, his cum already making it easier for you to take him. Makes you wonder just how much of it he has in him.

You clenched around him, inviting him deeper while fully knowing you couldn't take him. Yet somewhere at the back of your mind you wanted to, you wanted to be broken and taken by him.

"Take ya, break ya, breed ya. I can do it all sweetheart." Your eyes widened upon seeing him smirk, "What? Did yer words slip out? Already crazy from my cock I see. This is just the start." His sharp fangs grazed your throat, sending pleasant shivers down your spine while he propped himself up with his legs, his hands firmly grabbing your hips, "So easy for me ta put ya in any position I want. Do ya like look at my cock fucking your slutty little cunt?" You nodded without hesitation or humiliation as a thought entered your brain.

You knew that the Na'vi ponytails were sensitive, that they hooked them up during sex. It was probably why Quaritch was so deeply frustrated, he couldn't get that sweet release, that feeling. So you reached to it, wrapped it around your hand and made eye contact with him.

Quaritch looked between you and your hand, "What do ya think yer- Oh! Fuck!" He roared in surprise and ecstasy as you pulled on the ponytail, his cock twitched wildly, leaking more cum, "Holy shit yeah. Do that again." The command was strained, spoken breathlessly.

"Yes sir." You joked but it clearly had an effect on him, almost as much as you discovering his new weak spot did. You tugged and pulled him closer. "It feels good, I'll be sore tomorrow but, fuck me harder."

"Tomorrow? I ain't letting ya sleep. No, I'll spend every waking minute dumping my cum into yer womb. Just watch, I couldn't care less if it's impossible I'll get ya round with my seed. Leave ya drowning in my cum and begging for more loads." Those words, those promises made your pussy quiver around him, you whimpered and nodded along, wordlessly begging him to deliver on those.

He was nothing if not a man of his word.

With a room shaking roar he emptied his thick, creamy seed into your slobbering pussyhole, flooding your walls with it. Not enough yet, you tugged on his ponytail, hard, watching as his eyes rolled back into his skull and almost making him lose control as he hammered away into your cunt, his fingers squeezing and leaving bruises on your hips, "Take it, take it, fucking take it sweetheart."

The white cum pooled under you and gushed all over Quaritch's abs as your body snapped tight like a string, your stretched and abused hole clamping down around the tip as your orgasm rocked through you. "All of it Miles, I want all of it. Make me come more, breed me." Hearing you echo his desires back made him grin, once again making you feel small before him, under him, "That's right. I want you to make good on your promise. Even if my body can't take it."

"Oh ya can take it alright. I'll make sure of that. I'll fuck ya until dawn, ya can bet this sweet pussy on that." He pulled back, frowning as his cum leaked out, "What a fuckin' waste. Need to keep this hole plugged it seems." He flipped you over on your stomach and pulled your hips up, emboldened by your squeak of surprise as he pushed the tip back inside, "There we go. Ready for round two?"

"A-Already? But I'm still so- ah!" He pushed forward, scraping your sensitive walls, making you throw your head back in pleasure and ball your fists into the sheets in pain. "Sensitive."

"But you can take more. I know you can. I promised you all night sweetheart, and I intend on making good on that." It was bound to be a very long night ahead, one no doubt filled with mind-numbing pleasure for you both. Which was a bit of a problem as you did actually intend on making observations during this. Oh well, you'll just have to keep repeating the process until you get it right.

[sleepyjuice]

weed, sex, beach - jj maybank

summary: you and jj share a joint on the beach and have some good ol’ beach sex.

warnings: 18+!!! drug use (weed), semi public sex (there is no one around but it’s still in a public place), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, a lil praise kink.

wc: 2064

a/n: this is literally just filthy dirty smut. had me giggling and kicking my feet writing this. enjoy! <3

It was well past dusk, the only nearby light source being the moon which illuminated the dark waves that splashed onto the shore.

It was beautiful, this spot jj had taken you to. No one else around for miles, only you and jj occupying this little sliver of the beach that he claimed was a ‘hidden gem.’

It was, it was peaceful and you could get away from the congestion of your hectic lives for a bit.

“I like it here, jay.” You hummed, head on jj’s shoulder as you both sat on a beach towel, one and a half joints deep.

He flashed you a satisfied smile as he passed you the joint, his hand rubbing softly up and down your thigh.

You brought it to your lips and inhaled, holding it in a bit longer than usual as you decided this would be your last hit of the night, your eyes feeling heavy and your body loose.

“Atta girl. You done?” He asked, taking the now almost finished joint from you.

Nodding in response, you rested your head against his shoulder, watching the gentle waves move in front of you.

You loved moments like these. Just you and jj and the tranquility of the beach. All the drama this island brought was long forgotten when you got to experience this side of things.

jj finished off the last of the joint, putting it out in the sand below before slowly inching his fingertips up your thighs.

You instinctively opened your legs a bit, allowing him to go higher, a soft sigh leaving your lips. His light touch felt so much stronger and it felt like his fingertips held electricity.

“That feel good?” He whispered against your ear, and you hadn’t even realized you let out a quiet whimper, your mind a beat behind your body.

“Yeah, it does,” he answered for you, chuckling softly, his fingers now undoing the buttons on your shorts, “let me take care of you, pretty girl.” Your head fell back and off of his shoulder, your gaze finding jj’s face as he worked to undo your shorts and pull them off your legs, leaving you only in your shirt and bikini bottoms.

He cupped your pussy through the fabric, and this time you were well aware of the moan that fell from your lips, moving your head down to watch as he slipped a finger through, rubbing a slow line up and down your wet slit.

You didn’t miss the slick sound that his actions created, and neither did he, his dick now fully hard in his shorts as he began rubbing circles on your clit.

“You’re all wet for me, baby. Look at you.” He cooed gently, chuckling when you bucked your hips against his hand, desperate for more of him.

“Need you, jj.” You breathed, completely at his mercy.

Your words emitted a groan from him, his dick now painfully pressing against the seam of his shorts, begging to be released, to feel you.

“I know, sweet girl. Let me see you.” He moved his body so he was in front of you now, but not before he gently laid you down on the towel. Keeping his motions against your clit, he used his other hand to fully remove your bikini, sliding it down your legs.

You shivered as you were now fully exposed from the waist down, the soft ocean breeze hitting your wet pussy and bringing goosebumps to your skin.

He quickened his pace against your clit, your mouth falling open as you shamelessly grew closer to your high. It didn’t take much, the weed very much present in your system had your body feeling extra sensitive and after spending the whole night with jj, you were already fiending for him.

“I know, baby, I know, let go for me, yeah…” he urged you on, sensing how close you were without you having to say anything.

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a loud moan, your eyes rolling back as you came, his fingers working you perfectly as you rode out your orgasm, thighs clenching and threatening to close due to how sensitive you were.

“Fuck,” you panted, reaching to grab jj’s wrist to pull it away from your now throbbing clit, the sensitivity too much.

He chuckled at your actions, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick up your arousal that had coated them.

“God…” you breathed, his sensual actions making your pussy ache for more of him.

“Need you to fuck me.” You spoke, not a care in the world.

“Yes, ma’am.” At that, he wasted no time undoing his shorts and pulling them off, the tent in his boxers present along with the wet spot that pooled just where his tip rested, precum leaking eagerly.

He quickly rid himself of his boxers, his hard cock springing free from its restraint and you swore your mouth was watering at the sight of him like this. His tip was slightly swollen, the moonlight gently illuminated his slick precum that was leaking down onto the base of his cock. He was perfect.

He spread your thighs a bit more, positioning his body between your legs, his hand pumping his cock slowly as he slid it teasingly against your leaking entrance and up to press against your clit, gathering your arousal and dampening his cock even more.

You whined at the feeling of him, not usually caring about his teasing actions, but right now, you needed him inside of you. Your pussy ached at the feeling of emptiness, his cock right there and so close to being inside of you had you ready to throw all of your morals away. You were so down bad for him.

“Eager, huh? You need this sweet pussy fucked good, huh?” He teased, lightly smacking his cock against your sensitive clit, a hiss falling from your lips at the feeling.

“jj, please, please.” You begged, not a care in the world. He loved this, though. He loved how much you needed him this way, and he certainly needed you, too. He ached for the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you, but seeing you so desperate for him was one of the hottest things in the world.

“Shh, I got you, baby, I got you. Imma take care of ya.” He assured you, lining himself up with your entrance as he slowly pushed himself in, his mouth falling open at the feeling.

Your body accepted him immediately, taking little to no time to adjust to his cock, allowing him to bottom out almost immediately.

You moaned at the feeling, his tip pressed deep inside your pussy as he stayed still for a moment, relishing in the feeling.

His balls were pressed against your ass, both of you breathing heavily as you waited for him to move.

“Please-“

He pulled back swiftly, cutting you off as he began to finally thrust his cock into you, a loud gasp falling from your lips at his movement.

He found a good rhythm, his hand grabbing onto your thigh and lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as he pounded into you.

He grunted with each movement, your pussy swallowing his cock perfectly, gripping him tightly as he fucked into your wet walls.

“Let me…” he grumbled, stilling his movements for just a second as he grabbed onto both of your legs, bending your knees and positioning you so your legs were bent and your knees were pressed up against your chest.

“Oh, fuck, yeah…” he groaned loudly as he began his movements again, this new position allowing him to fuck you even deeper, hitting parts of you he had never reached before.

You gasped, which quickly turned into a loud moan, reaching your hands up to hold onto his shoulders as he fucked you relentlessly, your tits bouncing beneath your shirt with each movement.

“You like it like this, baby? Like feeling me so deep inside of you?” He grunted, quickening his pace, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly with each thrust.

“I- oh god, yeah, so good.” You panted, digging your fingers into the skin of his shoulders as if you were holding onto him for dear life.

His movements were hard and quick, and with each thrust you could feel his heavy balls smacking against your asshole, which only brought you closer to your end.

“Takin’ me so well, baby. You’re- you’re perfect, my perfect girl, this pussy is so perfect.” He praised you between moans, his breathing staggered as he attempted to speak through the euphoric pleasure that filled his entire body.

Your pussy clenched around him, hugging his cock tightly as he continued to fuck just the right spot inside of you.

“I’m close, oh fuck… jj- oh god, I’m close.” You whined, your heart rate picking up as you felt your lower stomach twist and tighten, your fingernails now pressing harshly into his skin.

“I know, baby, let go for me. Cum all over my dick for me.” He moaned hoarsely, his own cock twitching as he felt you tighten around him.

It didn’t take much more, his cock hit your g-spot once again, and that was it for you.

Your head fell back onto the sand, eyes rolled back as you came, your pussy clenching so hard onto his cock that it pushed him out, squirt gushing out of you and all over his cock and down his balls, some painting his shirt as well.

“Oh, fuuuckkk…” jj gaped, quickly grabbing his cock and shoving it back inside of you, continuing his previous movements as your pussy continued to flutter and clench around him.

You moaned so loudly, a straight up pornographic sound filling the air as you came, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you continued to ride out your high, the wet sounds of jj’s dick fucking into your soaking pussy was euphoric.

His now soaked balls were warm with your release, smacking against your ass once again, only heightening the sensation you were feeling.

“Fuck, baby, I’m ’bout to cum.” jj announced only a second before you felt his cock twitch inside of you and you felt him fill you up with thick hot spurts of his cum.

He groaned loudly through his release, keeping a steady hand on your upper thigh so he wouldn’t slip out again, the mixture of both of your releases creating a wet mess between you.

“God, you’re so good, so so good.” He muttered as his thrusts slowed, both of your releases now leaking out of your pussy and down onto his balls before he eventually stilled inside of you, taking a moment to catch his breath as his dick slowly softened.

You were a panting mess below him, feeling properly fucked and full of his cum, your pussy clenching around his softening cock as it adjusted to not feeling as full anymore.

He eventually pulled out of you, thick globs of his cum pooling out of your pussy and onto the towel below you.

He leaned down to kiss your damp forehead, peppering a few slow kisses before kissing your plump lips sloppily, having to pull away as he was still working to properly catch his breath.

“That was so good, baby.” He smiled lovingly down at you, pulling up the corner of the towel to somewhat clean you up the best he could.

You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down on top of you, relaxing at the feeling of his body weight on top of you as you held him close, breathing in his scent. Ocean water, sweat, weed, sex and a hint of cologne he had put on hours ago.

“I love you so much.” You hummed, the serotonin from the sex and the weed pooling around in your brain. You couldn’t ask for anything more in life.

“I love you, too, baby.” He spoke against your skin, his legs intertwining with yours.

“Ugh, we have to walk all the way back.” You spoke after a moment, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your legs were jelly, that thought just about ruined the moment.

jj laughed loudly at that, shushing you with another kiss.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that right now, baby. I got you.”

[lafleshlumpeater]

Hi babe!! I loved your Luke x Aphrodite reader and was wondering if you could do another?? If you alr have an idea go ahead with whatever you want but maybe something with protective Luke 🤭🤭

I’m on a new Luke obsession from the show

Thanks!!!

thanks for requesting<3 i hope you like this!!

warnings: fem!reader, unwanted flirting, protective/possessive behaviour (not in a toxic way though), mentions of drinks (unspecified whether it's alcohol or not), one word that i think can be classified as a swear word?? lmk if i missed any

requests are always open <3

luke castellan masterlist part one

“Hi.”

You jump slightly. “Hey. You scared me,” you breathe a nervous laugh through your nose. What was taking Luke so long?

You and your boyfriend had gone to the fourth of July bonfire- together, obviously- and he had disappeared, mentioning something vague about drinks and the Stoll twins (probably seeking their most recent stock of soda stash, smuggled, of course) when a slightly older camper approached you. You recognised him as an Apollo camper- you had seen him train with a bow and arrow; he was good.

He sits down next to you on the sand, slightly too close for you to be fully comfortable. Your eyes dart around frantically, looking for one of your siblings to save you- but Silena was cosied up with Beckendorf, foreheads pressed together and giggling whilst Lacy was chatting up a newer camper. You curse internally, the rest of your siblings either splashing around in the ocean or helping set up for the firework display. You offer the unfamiliar camper another strained smile in a futile attempt at breaking the awkward silence.

What was his name? Something starting with 'M', maybe?

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” the mystery boy asks- a bit too directly, in your opinion, for someone you hardly know.

You give a little giggle, hoping it sounds appreciative of the basic compliment. Even after being in this agonising situation on multiple occasions, you had gotten no better at handling them. You sigh wistfully. If only your mother had given you powers to deter unwanted attention as well as attracting it.

“Uh… I’m waiting. For my boyfriend.” You ensure to place extra emphasis on the title. He smirks, unfazed.

“Some shitty boyfriend, huh?” He says in satisfaction, completely misreading the situation to fancy his own whims, accompanied with the fakest sympathetic sigh. It makes you want to scream.

“No, actually-”

“Actually, the ‘shitty’ boyfriend’s right here.”

You can’t help but exhale in relief, muscles loosening at the mere sound of Luke’s voice. You stand up, turning around to face him. “Luke.”

“Hey, doll.” The glare etched in his sculpted features (directed at the obnoxious flirt) contrasts greatly with the gooey sweetness of his greeting. “Who’s your friend?”

You try not to snort. “Uh…”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, wrapping a fierce arm around your shoulders. You melt into him. “There a problem, buddy?”

An amused smirk creeps onto your face, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Luke never calls anyone ‘buddy’.

“N- no, course not, I was just…” the Apollo camper stutters.

Luke raises a blond eyebrow. “Just?”

“Keeping her company!” he blurts out, already beginning to edge away from the conversation. 

Luke looks at the ground, lips curving upwards in a cold smirk. “Well, for next time, don’t worry. I’ll take you with me next time, sweet thing, if you feel lonely, ‘kay?” he simpers, half- joking for your entertainment, half in seriousness in wanting to ward off the unsuspected boy. By this time, he’s already gone and Luke leans down to whisper, hand tightening around your waist slightly as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “My girl,” he mutters.

taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

can u write james getting caught masturbating in a pool float because he couldn't stop staring at fem!reader in her bikini end it ends up freaky 😭😭

A/n: love this idea so much hope you like my ✨rendition✨ of it <3

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Just realize his nose is red

Your older brother was friends with James’ older half-brother since they’d worked together. You and James were around the same age but weren’t all too close, nonetheless you were dragged over to his place more than once and it only got worse when his band started taking off.

He got a nice house with a pool in the back and wanted to show it off, once again you were dragged along. You stayed in the shade and enjoyed the warm weather while you read at the poolside, that was until yours and James’ brothers had to leave for work or something, you weren’t listening when they were leaving.

James came over, staying in the pool as he spoke. “You coming in or you plan on keeping your streak of being boring?” He teased.

You set your book down. “What?”

James scoffed. “Oh, come on, you’re always boring, you never do anything fun.” You chewed your cheek a moment the stood and walked away. “What, you’re just leaving?”

“I’m not changing in front of you?” You called as you went inside.

You returned a moment later with a towel wrapped around you. James was on a pool float and watching you curiously. You dropped your towel and set it with the rest of your stuff, not missing the loud splash behind you.

You spun around and saw James coughing up water, his hair completely drenched.

You smirked as you came over and sat on the edge of the pool and dipped your feet into the water. “Fall in?”

James coughed a few more times before he regained his composure. “I slipped.” He mumbled. He reached for an inflatable ball and tossed it at you, you swatted it out of the way and slid into the pool.

It was deep enough you couldn’t quite stand but James could, he came over and let you hold onto him so you didn’t have to work so hard to have a conversation.

Once you got talking to him he was nice. He’d float around on his back and let you use him as a float. He was invested in your life, asking questions and follow up questions, laughing and teasing.

You never guessed it, he was always so loud and obnoxious around you.

Even so, you did have a crush on him when you first met. He was tall, had strong arms and his hair looked so soft. His jawline, lips, his eyes all captivated you. Watching him play guitar had you going weak in the knees.

You were talking when your stomach growled. You paused and James laughed. “Hungry?” You scoffed and made your way to the edge of the pool.

You tried to pull yourself out of the pool but couldn’t quite do it yourself so James helped you, holding your hips in a tight grip, waiting an extra second before letting go once you were out of the pool. You thanked him and hurried inside.

James stared at you blankly, his jaw slack as he watched your ass shake when you moved. He could feel his swim trunks getting tight but he ignored it and just tried to keep floating around, eventually getting onto an actual pool float.

He laid there in the sun, letting his mind wander. He thought about you in your bathing suit, the way you moved, then he couldn’t stop himself.

He thought about you naked and between his legs, looking up at him with teary eyes as you took his cock down your throat. He thought about you on top of him and using him to get off. He thought about you beneath him, moaning and begging for more as he fucked you, how you’d call out his name, the face you’d make when he made you cum.

“James..?” You asked hesitantly as you sat on the edge of the pool, effectively drawing James from his thoughts.

His mind was foggy and his breathing was heavy. He followed your gaze and his eyes widened when he saw his hard cock in his hand. He panicked to cover himself, rocking the float and falling off again.

He managed to get himself back in his trunks by the time you'd gotten over to him. Your hands were on his shoulders to keep yourself afloat, James hands went to your waist, holding you close to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just-" You kissed him, he didn't hesitate to return it.

Your legs wrapped around him, your arms around his neck as his hands ventured over your body, teasing and groping whatever he could reach. He pushed you against the side of the pool as he started kissing down your neck, groaning softly as you rubbed against his hard on.

He kept kissing down your body, lifting you up so you were sitting on the edge. He tugged at your bottoms, you tried to help him get them off before he ripped the stringed sides off. You gasped softly, enamored by his strength once more.

Fuck, the look of pure and utter awe in his eyes as he stared at your cunt. He pulled you right to the edge, your knees over his shoulders as he licked between your glistening folds, sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub while his skilled fingers went to work on your needy hole.

He groaned as he pushed a finger into you, your gummy walls sucking him in deeper. You hands went to his hair, tugging on it and pulled him closer to you.

Between his tongue and his fingers fucking you and stretching your hole for him you were already close. Your moans got louder and James chuckled, sending vibrations through you.

James pulled away and you whined the sudden loss of friction. You stared down at James who looked off over the hedges behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, breathing heavy and mind running wild, you heard the sound of kids screaming and playing around.

You looked back to James, eyes wide. “Don’t worry.” He said and pulled himself out of the water. You took a moment to admire his taut body, muscular arms, broad shoulders, the prominent tent in his trunks. “They can’t hear us inside.” He grinned, reaching his hand out to pull you up.

You got up with him and excitedly followed him inside, forgetting for a moment how exposed you were.

You barely made it through the door before his lips were on yours again and he was lifting you onto the kitchen island.

He dropped his trunks and let out a groan as he pushed into you. “Fuck, if I’d known you’d feel this good I wouldn’t’ve waited so long.” He started kissing your neck, biting when he heard moans he was particularly fond of. “Sound so pretty when I do that.” He gleamed, sounding so proud of himself for making you feel this way.

“Jamie-Jamie, please move.” You mumbled, rolling your hips. James chuckled and pulled his hips back before snapping them into yours.

“Like that?” You nodded, moaning softly. James continued to kiss your neck, trailing down to your collarbone as he fucked you.

Your legs wrapped around him, keeping him close as you leaned back on the cool stone counter top. Your moans echoed off the pristine walls along with James’ low grunts and skin slapping.

James’ wet hair framed his face, a few strands sticking to him. His jaw was slacked, his eyes locked onto where your bodies connected, how your hole kept pulling him back in, the bulge in your stomach with every thrust.

“Hah-! Fuck, James, feels s’good.” You moaned, head falling back. That familiar warmth bundled in your gut, ready to burst at any second. James brought his hand to your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

You gasped, eyes shooting open as you came undone. James wrapped his arms around you, his movement speeding up as he chased his own high. He pulled you off the counter and you cling to him, still relishing in the feeling of him moving inside you, how he pushed against your insides, hitting every spot.

A string of curses left him as he came, his thrusts finally coming to a halt.

He pulled out of you but kept holding you, knowing your legs would be weak. He watched his cum deep out of you and drop on the tiled floor and down your legs.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “you’re really making a mess.” He said with a laugh. You swatted are his chest.

He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back. “You got anywhere to be tonight?” He asked, looking down at you with soft eyes.

[saddleups]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 .

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 3k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . drabble , complete. ARTHUR MORGAN X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . pillow humping. dry humping. mating press. cervix kissing. breeding kink. possessive/dominant arthur. explicit dirty talk. mid to low arthur ngl. p_rn w/o plot.

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . .  taking advantage of everything the hotel has to offer. arthur is too busy to notice until you leave him with no choice.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . erm,,,idk what to title this....it's a scrapped scene from honor among thieves. didn't think y/n in that story would allow arthur to be so dominant without any fight tbh. plus i lowkey need a short break from that fic , it was meant to be just pure smut across the board after they finally have sex but i got carried away with the relationship dynamic lmao. so, it'll be delayed and i'll fill the time with short drabbles like this that just didn't make the cut </3

The maid sets a basin of warm water on the vanity in the plush hotel room, the steam rising up and filling the air with a fresh scent. You thank her before eagerly plunging your hands into the water. Forming a puddle in your palms, relishing in its warmth as you splash it onto your face before washing away any traces of makeup and grime from the day. The pigments dissolve into the water, revealing your natural complexion underneath, and you can't help but sigh with relief at finally being able to unwind after a long day.

As you dry off, you replenish your skin with rose water, a sweet scent lingering on your skin, knowing all too well it'd drive him mad. Across the room, Arthur sits by the window with his gaze fixed outside, his gun carefully placed on the wooden table behind him. The quieter type, he leaves you to unwind alone. Stealing quick glances when he needed extra motivation.

In nothing but your chemise, you sink into the plush mattress beneath you with a contented sigh. It's a luxury that you rarely have in your line of work - a cozy hotel bed instead of a hard cot or rough bedroll. The distant sounds of city life drift in through the open window.

You can't contain a giggle as you roll around on the large bed, unintentionally unraveling the sheets in the process. Arthur quickly hushes you from his spot in the chair, lounging comfortably with his long legs stretched out under the table. He takes up more space than he realizes, his broad shoulders tapering down into a lean V shape. You can't help but admire him as he meticulously cleans each of his guns, his calloused hands gently caressing and polishing them until they gleam like new. In that moment, you wish those hands were on your own body instead.

Is he oblivious or just plain stubborn? You couldn't quite tell, but either way, he seems completely focused on his task at hand - oblivious to your half-naked state on the mattress only a few feet away. Your chemise clings to your curves, revealing hints of your allure underneath. Your fingers trace down your stomach and between the valleys of your chest, imagining his rough hands exploring those same areas. You hike your chemise higher, giving him a suggestive glimpse of your bloomers in hopes of sparking that primal desire in him. A gentle breeze brushes over your skin, causing you to moan softly as your hardened nipples strain against the thin fabric.

"You need somethin?" Arthur finally hums, breaking you out of your thoughts. Oblivious or just playing it cool, you can't quite tell. But despite being slightly annoyed at his lack of attention, you couldn't be too upset - after all, the hotel was meant for a mission that ended up lasting longer than expected. And now here he is, diligently keeping guard by the window. Though it's been long enough that you both should be able to relax for the night. But Arthur is always so meticulous and dedicated to his work, even if it means neglecting other desires...like yours. You sigh and continue to explore your body with your own hands, wishing they were his instead.

Without hesitation, you firmly respond with a breathless "no." You refuse to come across as desperate, but deep down, your desire for Arthur burns like a wildfire. You want him to take you and show him what he's been missing. And so, you shift your position once more, sitting up on the bed to face him. Grabbing a spare pillow and placing it between your legs, straddling it tightly while letting out a soft cry. Biting your knuckles, you grind your hips into the pillow, trying to contain your pleasure. But it becomes too much as the bed creaks under your movements and your whimpers grow in volume. Under the impression that you were settling into bed, Arthur pays it no mind until the creaking continues. A slow, continuous rhythm that he'd only heard one place else.

Arthur watches intently as you tease yourself, unable to resist any longer. He sets his guns aside and gives in to the hypnotizing sight of your body moving against the pillow. The fabric stretches over your bloomers as you move agonizingly slow, building up the pressure until you can no longer hold back. Lost in the throes of ecstasy, your eyes lock with Arthur's as he stands up and walks towards you with hunger in his gaze. Your lips part as you whimper and confess your need for him, "Oh Arthur," it sounds orgasmic and it's sending him into a frenzy. He stands above you with his legs slightly apart, feeling his own desire grow within him.

You lean forward and press your face against his clothed groin, leaving open mouth kisses on his covered length. He sucks in a sharp breath and reminds you of his previous question: "I asked if you needed somethin."

But you are too consumed by desire to remember. All you know is that you need him desperately. You continue kissing his clothed cock, wondering if it hurts him to keep it restrained like this. You know he wants you just as badly. The heat of his member radiated even through the fabric. Arthur grips your cheeks tightly and repeats his question with a firmness that sends shivers down your spine. "Answer me, girl."

You tremble as you reach for his thighs, using them as anchors as you grind your hips harder into the pillow. Your fingers dig into the fabric, grasping onto it for dear life. "I need you," you moan.

With a deep and husky voice, Arthur responds, "Dirty girl. Tell me what you need."

Your head is pressed against his lower abdomen, drooling at the thought of him filling you up wherever he pleases. With desperate need in your voice, you tell him exactly what you want: "I need you inside me."

The vulgar praise echoes in your ears, causing a surge of sweat to break out across your body as you ache for him. "I want your cock," you confess with a desperate whisper, your face pressed firmly against his groin. You can feel his heart pounding for you, the fabric of his pants the only thing keeping you from devouring his throbbing member whole.

"What was that?" he taunts, thrusting his hips forward as the length of his shaft slides up your face. A guttural moan escapes your lips, your skin flushed and hot with desire. "All them times you drove me crazy," he begins, gripping the crown of your head tightly against his cock. "Teasing yer'self while I'm trynna work."

"What makes you think I'll pleasure you so easily?" You challenge, looking up at him with pride but feeling an overwhelming need for him. Arthur leans in closer, pushing you down onto the mattress. The pillow between your legs acts as a barrier between him and his cock, you can still feel it pressing against your soaked bloomers, threatening to push inside you. He thrusts with such force that it's instinctual to wrap your legs tightly around his waist. You cry out his name over and over like a sacred chant.

"Yer gonna wake up the entire town if you keep goin' on like that."

"I don't care," you fight back, tears welling in your eyes. You crave him so intensely, it's almost maddening.

He chuckles darkly, "my filthy girl."

The intensity of his possession over you drives you wild with desire. Without warning, Arthur begins dry humping the pillow against your wet opening, soaking through your bloomers and leaving wet marks on the fabric caught between you two. Your jaw clenches so tightly that you fear your teeth might shatter. Desperate to remove the barrier between you, you try to pull the pillow out from between your legs, he stops you with a wicked smile. "Not until I say so, darlin'," he growls, driving you closer to the brink of madness with every rough thrust.

Your fingers claw at his shoulders, desperate to pull him closer as he continues to tease you mercilessly. The friction of the pillow against your most sensitive areas is maddening, bringing you right to the edge but never quite enough. You whimper and writhe beneath him, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. With each movement his groans and grunts join yours, a hushed tone growing more guttural when you retaliated his thrusts. Even more so when you cried his name, begging him to devour you whole.

"Arthur, please," you beg, your voice a breathy moan. "I need more. I need you."

He chuckles low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Patience, darlin'. Good things come to those who wait."

With agonizing slowness, he begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing tantalizing glimpses of his broad chest. Your hands itch to touch him, to run your fingers through the coarse hair there, but he catches your wrists and pins them above your head with one large hand. His grip on your wrists is firm but not painful, a reminder of his strength and control. You squirm beneath him, desperate for more contact, but he holds you in place effortlessly.

"Now, now," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Be a good girl for me."

With his free hand, he slowly trails his fingertips down your throat, across your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts. Your nipples strain against the thin fabric of your chemise, aching for his touch. When he finally brushes his thumb over one hardened peak, you arch into him with a gasp.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice rough with desire. "Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He continues his torturous exploration of your body, his calloused fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. When he reaches the hem of your chemise, he pauses, his eyes meeting yours with a wicked glint. Slowly, achingly slowly, he begins to inch the fabric up your thighs, exposing more and more of your flushed skin to the cool air of the room.

You whimper, trying to buck your hips up to speed his progress, but he tuts disapprovingly. "Patience," he reminds you, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Finally, he tosses the pillow aside before he pushes your chemise up to bunch around your waist, revealing your soaked bloomers. Arthur inhales sharply at the sight, his eyes darkening with lust. "Look at you," he murmurs, running a finger along the damp fabric. "So wet for me already."

You moan at his touch, desperate for more. "Please, Arthur," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you so badly."

Arthur's eyes flicker with desire as he watches you writhe beneath him. "Tell me exactly what you want, darlin'," he growls, his fingers teasing along the edge of your bloomers.

"I want you inside me," you gasp, arching into his touch. "Please, Arthur, I need to feel you."

With a low chuckle, he finally relents, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your bloomers and slowly sliding them down your legs. The cool air hits your heated core, making you shiver with anticipation.

Arthur's gaze rakes over your exposed body hungrily. "Beautiful," he murmurs, before lowering his head to press a searing kiss to your inner thigh. You cry out at the sensation, your hands fisting in the sheets as he works his way higher.

When his lips finally reach your aching center, you let out a keening moan, your back arching off the bed. Arthur's tongue delves between your folds, tasting your arousal with a growl of approval. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin as he explores every inch of you.

You writhe beneath him, gasping and whimpering as he works you closer to the edge. His strong hands grip your thighs, holding you open for his ministrations. When he sucks your swollen bud between his lips, you cry out his name, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"That's it, darlin'," he murmurs against you. "Let me hear you."

He slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them just right as his tongue continues its relentless assault. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you feel yourself hurtling towards release. Your wetness gathering around his fingers, flooding down your thighs, pouring into his mouth like a fountain. "Oh my god, Arthur." You seize your thighs, an odd sensation forming at your center.

"That's it, sweetheart," Arthur growls against your sensitive flesh. "Come for me."

His words are your undoing. Hips buck on his face, that coil tightening finally snaps. You arch forward hand digging into the crown of his head. Your nectar squirts from your core and with a keening wail, you shatter, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. High off the taste of you, Arthur doesn't let up, working you through your climax until you're a quivering, oversensitive mess beneath him.

As you come down from your high, panting and flushed, Arthur rises up to hover over you. His eyes are dark with desire, his lips glistening with evidence of your pleasure. Without warning, he captures your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss is deep and passionate, filled with hunger and need. You moan into his mouth, your hands roaming over his broad shoulders and down his muscled back.

Arthur breaks the kiss, panting heavily. "Gonna take care of ya," he growls, his voice rough with desire. You nod eagerly, spreading your legs wider in invitation. "Please, Arthur. I need you too."

With a fierce determination, he rips off the last remnants of his clothing, revealing a massive and throbbing cock. Arthur's length is like a weapon, thick and girthy with veins pulsing in shades of green and purple. The tip is a deep red, glistening with pre-cum, beckoning you to taste it. You can feel your own desire building as you lick your lips at the sight.

You ache for him to fill you completely, and he knows it. With a devilish grin, Arthur positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

"Tell me you need it," he demands, his eyes locked on yours.

"I need it," you breathe, unable to resist any longer. "Please, Arthur. Fuck me."

With a guttural groan, he thrusts inside you in one powerful motion, his coarse hair blending with yours as your bodies meld together. But even this closeness isn't enough for Arthur; he lifts your thighs higher up towards your chest and presses you against him with an animalistic force. Your foreheads press together as he claims you as his own.

"Whose pussy is this?" he growls.

"It's yours!" you scream without shame.

He pounds into you with an unbridled ferocity.

"That's right," he grunts.

And with every thrust, every moan that escapes your lips, you know that you belong to him completely

Arthur's relentless thrusts drive you wild with pleasure, each powerful movement sending shockwaves through your body. You cling to him desperately, your nails raking down his back as you match his irratic rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your breathless moans and Arthur's guttural groans.

"You feel so good, darlin'," he growls in your ear, his hot breath fanning across your flushed skin. "So tight and wet for me."

His words send another jolt of arousal through you, and you clench around him involuntarily. Arthur hisses in response, his hips stuttering for a moment before resuming their punishing pace.

"That's it," he encourages, one hand snaking between your bodies to rub tight circles on your sensitive bud. "Let go for me, sweetheart."

"Please, fill me with your hot cum," you beg, voice trembling with desire.

His lips curl into a smirk as he teases, "You want my cum inside that pretty lil pussy?"

Without hesitation, you nod eagerly and thrust your hips into his with a desperate need. Arthur's composure crumbles as he becomes a moaning mess above you, his sweat dripping onto your face as both of you lose yourselves in the moment. Your mouths hang open, drooling as your bodies move in perfect harmony.

Seizing control, you hold your own thighs up and allow Arthur to press his hands onto the mattress, his weight surrendering on top of you. A gasp escapes your throat as the tip of his cock hits against your cervix, sending electric shocks through your body.

"Yes, give it to me all, Arthur! Fill me up!" You cry out, urging him on as you feel yourself being pushed over the edge. In a frenzy of passion, your tongues tangle together in sloppy kisses as he finally gives in and releases himself inside you. It feels like every inch of your body is on fire, consumed by the intense passion between you.

Arthur's hot, thick cum fills your swollen pussy, and you both watch in awe as he pulls out, leaving a trail of sticky strands that connect the two of you. He playfully slaps the tip of his still-hard cock against your slick folds, eliciting shivers of pleasure throughout your body. With gentle circles and flicks, he teases your throbbing clit, sending electric pulses of desire through every inch of you. Your voice is caught in your throat. Eyes sealed shut as he leans forward, kissing your face so intently.

"You did so good, my sweet girl." Arthur's praises are filled with admiration for you. You lean in and kiss him lazily, still feeling the intensity of it all. "Do you think our neighbors are angry with us?" you ask, your voice strained from the relentless moaning that just moments ago filled the room.

Arthur chuckles, his hand gently stroking your back. "Probably," he replies, "can't deny we gave them quite a show."

Playfully slapping his chest, you sink into his embrace as he wraps his arm around your waist. Resting your head on his chest, you feel comforted by the steady rhythm of his beating heart. Tracing half circles along his abdomen, you look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Should we give them an encore then?" you suggest with a sly smile.

[bellaxgiornata]

Half of Forever [Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: break up, pining, idiots in love, angst with a happy ending

a/n: This is the final part of this little mini series. Enjoy the angst and the happy ending you've all been waiting for! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Stepping off the bus, you were immediately hit with the onslaught of rain heavily beating down on you from above. Ducking your head, you dashed across the sidewalk towards the nearest overhang for temporary shelter. As you darted towards the bodega, your dress shoes splashed water up onto your slacks as you ran through puddle after puddle. 

Breath coming in hard once you'd reached the brief refuge, you took a moment to collect yourself. The rain continued to fall past the overhang, loudly pelting the sidewalk all around you. The handful of passersby toting umbrellas had you instantly wishing you'd grabbed yours before leaving your apartment for work today. But you’d foolishly forgotten to check the weather this morning.

Leaning up against one of the shop’s windows behind you, you heard the crack of thunder far off in the distance. A shiver ran through you, the chilled fabric of your drenched clothing clinging to your skin. Wiping a hand across your wet forehead, you let out a quiet groan as the weight of your predicament hit you.

What a horrible day this had turned out to be.

While you’d been on the city bus making your way home from the office, a storm had rolled in and a downpour had begun. Now standing here and looking out at the large puddles forming along the sidewalks and in the streets, you realized you had a long walk just past the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen and back to your apartment in this mess. All because you'd accidentally missed your actual bus stop, having been too distracted thinking about the reprimand you'd gotten from your boss just before you'd left work today. 

Glancing down at your purse, you began to unzip the main compartment before reaching a hand inside. You pulled out your cell phone, your finger desperately holding down the power button as your eyes stared at the black screen and willed it to turn on. Except you knew it wouldn't because the battery had long since died. You hadn't properly plugged it into the charger when you'd gone to sleep last night, so by the time you'd gotten to work this morning and realized the battery was quite low, it had been too late to do anything about it. Your phone had tragically died in your purse some time before lunch. 

Though realistically it didn’t matter that your phone was dead. It wasn’t like you could have afforded using one of your apps to set up a ride home even if your phone was working. Because unfortunately for you, you'd had the misfortune of falling ill two weeks ago and the unexpected doctor's bill along with the medication you’d needed had wiped out your measly extra bit of emergency cash.

“Goddammit,” you whispered.

Tears building in your eyes, you watched the rain continue to pour down around you as your chest steadily grew tighter and tighter from the stress of the day. The last thing you felt like doing this evening was spending a half an hour walking home in a storm, but you couldn't just stand here waiting beneath the shop’s overhang for it to end, either. You didn't exactly have a choice.

With a sharp exhale, you reluctantly accepted your fate. Pushing away from the window, you grudgingly stepped out from beneath the safety of your covering and straight into the downpour. You willed your legs to move at a speed faster than your usual pace as the rain once more drenched you. Though despite your increased pace, you certainly weren't tempted to run home because you knew it wouldn’t have mattered anyway–you were already soaked to the bone in a matter of seconds.

Ducking your head to avoid the rain drops from further attempting to blind you, you made your way down the sidewalk. Jaw set firmly, you couldn’t help but internally chastise yourself for having missed your stop before internally berating yourself for forgetting to at least grab the small umbrella you usually kept in your purse. You hadn't put it back after the last rainy day when you’d left it out to dry by your front door. 

You’d only managed to make it two blocks while silently fuming to yourself and steadily growing colder in your drenched work clothes before you’d finally become completely overwhelmed. Once more you felt the tears threatening to fall as they welled in your eyes, steadily blurring your vision. This time you didn't think you could hold them back. Gritting your teeth, you rushed towards the nearest overhang on a building up ahead before turning your back to the sidewalk, not wanting the rest of the city to see you publicly breakdown. Burying your face in your hands, you let yourself finally cry.

It felt like things had not been going well for you for a while now–for years if you were being honest–and it felt like today had been the culmination of it all. Your job was awful and barely paid your bills. You hardly had any free time to spend with your friends anymore, and your dating life had only increasingly grown more depressing and lackluster. The apartment you'd once loved you had eventually grown to hate because it held the ghost of Matt everywhere you looked–at your kitchen table, on your couch, in your bed, beneath the spray of your shower.

You should have never come to the city. You should have gone anywhere else instead of giving into your dreams of some brilliant, happy life out here. Some fantastic life full of excitement and love. Because that wasn't the reality of your life in Hell’s Kitchen. Not anymore.

The tears continued to stream down your cheeks, your face still buried against your palms. Biting your bottom lip, you at least attempted to keep your sobs to a volume softer than the rain heavily falling around you and the distant rumbling of thunder. You felt pathetic standing here on the sidewalk crying in a storm in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen.

The sound of your name being called suddenly registered in your ears between your quiet sobs. Your body tensed instantly; you hadn't anticipated anyone approaching you out here let alone someone who apparently knew your name. But when they said your name again, the voice coming from just behind you this time, you knew exactly who had spoken.

Hunching further in on yourself, you felt your heart drop to the ground by your soaked feet. As if your bad day needed to get any worse, now it had. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now, the one who haunted your dreams most nights. Roughly wiping the heels of your hands over your eyes, you tried to dry your tears. Because of course if you were going to run into your ex, it had to be when you were embarrassingly at your lowest. Trying to brace yourself for whatever this encounter would do to your already battered heart, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat before cautiously turning around. 

If you thought you'd been prepared to see Matt standing there soaked from the storm, you were certainly wrong. The sight of him in his fitted suit with his hair a damp, dark mess clinging to his forehead hit you like a tidal wave. Beads of rain were sliding down his cheeks, just past his red glasses. The corners of his lips were downturned among a darker scruff of beard than you ever recalled him having back when you’d both been together. Both of his hands were squeezing his cane tight between his fists, his dark dress pants wet and clinging to his thighs that had grown far thicker over the years. 

With trembling lips, your eyes slowly traveled back up to his face, once more meeting the harsh crimson of his lenses. Teeth clamping down harder on your bottom lip, you fought back the sob threatening to spill forth as more hot tears slid down your cheeks. A sharp pain twisted in your chest, right where your heart resided. He’d grown more handsome with age, though that shouldn’t have remotely come as a surprise to you. He'd always been beautiful.

“What–what are you doing here?” he whispered, his dark brows sinking beneath his glasses. “Is something wrong?”

Your own brows dipped together in confusion before you finally looked around you, taking in your surroundings. It didn’t take long for you to realize where you’d accidentally ended up. Turning your head over your shoulder, you spotted the address on the familiar-looking building. It was Matt’s apartment building. Eyelids slowly lowering, you exhaled a sharp, frustrated breath.

“Are you in trouble?” he asked again, concerned. “Did…you need help?”

How utterly embarrassing this whole situation had become. He thought you’d come here on purpose . For his help as Daredevil most likely. Wincing, you slowly returned your attention to his beautiful, worried face. That sharp pain seared straight through you at the sight of him.

“No,” you whispered, an embarrassed heat burning up your neck. “I didn’t realize exactly where I was.”

Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You didn’t come here intentionally? You weren’t looking for me?”

Wincing once more, your eyes dropped down to your wet dress flats as you shook your head. Why couldn’t you have paid more attention to where you were going? Hell’s Kitchen was such a small area and it wasn’t like Matt would have ever left it. You should have been navigating your way home better in the rain so that you wouldn’t end up crying in front of his apartment building.

“No,” you awkwardly admitted. “I was distracted on the bus. Got off on the wrong stop. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to where I was in the storm, I was just trying to get back home.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Matt’s shoulders visibly drop at the information. Not entirely sure what to make of that, you kept your gaze averted as a chill ran up your spine. Your wet clothes certainly were not helping this situation.

“Oh,” he breathed out. “I’m sorry. I thought I recognized it was you standing here and I thought that you…nevermind.”

“No, it’s my fault,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Sorry. I–I didn’t mean to bother you by showing up like this. It was entirely an accident.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between the pair of you, that nauseating feeling you remembered from the night when he’d ended things with you years ago rising to the surface and uncoiling in your stomach. After this unexpected encounter, you knew you’d be trying and failing to move on from him all over again. 

“I’m just–just going to go,” you stammered. “I should get back home anyway.”

Gripping your purse straps like a lifeline, you turned in the direction back towards your apartment. Though you’d taken two more steps before Matt called your name over the roar of thunder. You paused, eyes falling shut at the sound of his cane tapping along the sidewalk as you kept your back to him.

“You can’t possibly walk home in this,” he stated. “It’s not safe.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice. My phone’s dead and I don’t have money for a cab anyway,” you confessed awkwardly. “Faster to walk home than anything else at this point.”

You could feel his presence just behind you before you even heard his voice, the hair on the back of your neck prickling at his proximity. Your heart was beating in an agonizing rhythm in your chest with him so near after years of you both being apart. It had been so long since you’d last seen him, since you’d last heard his voice. Every second of this was sheer torture.

“I’ll call you a car,” he offered. “I can pay for it. I can’t have you walk home in this. How much do you need?”

“No, Matt,” you declined, sharply shaking your head. 

Turning back towards him, you were surprised to see he’d already pulled his wallet out of his dress pants, his fingers running over the differently folded bills. A surge of emotion welled up within you at the sight, the feeling becoming almost too much to bear as the tears pricked at your eyes again. He never had much but he was always eager and willing to try and help everyone he could. One of the many things you'd always loved about him. 

“I’m not taking your money,” you told him, fighting the tremor in your voice. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Well I can’t let you walk home in this,” he stated again. “I won’t let you.”

A small, sad smile tugged at your lips as you watched a frown form along his own. As a few tears once more snuck their way from the corners of your eyes and burned warm trails down your cheeks, you saw Matt’s hand grip his wallet tighter in his fist.

“What’re you going to do, Matty?” you whispered. “Hold me here against my will?”

His lips thinned out along his face, his dark brows once more pulling together. Ever so subtly you saw him shake his head. With the sad smile still on your face, you nodded slowly.

“Yeah, exactly,” you murmured. “I need to head back home now before this storm gets worse. Goodbye, Matthew.”

Feeling your heart break for a second time, you turned around and stepped out from beneath the overhang on his building and back into the downpour of rain. Ducking your head, you continued down the sidewalk, not even bothering to wipe the tears from your face as they mingled with the drops of rain racing down your cheeks. 

What a horrible day this had turned out to be.

Biting down sharply on your lip, you tried hard to muffle a sob now that Matt was here. But as your heart brokenly beat in your chest, you knew you couldn't hide a damn thing from him behind you. You never could. 

As you took another step forward, something caught your elbow and tugged you backwards. Stumbling in a half turn, your right foot splashed into yet another puddle as you came face to face with Matt. His eyebrows were still tightly knit together, partially lowered beneath his lenses. His mouth was twisted in uncertainty as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat. 

“Come up to my apartment,” he offered quietly, releasing your elbow. “You can get out of this storm and I can dry your clothes while you warm up in some blankets.”

Shaking your head slightly at his offer, you knew you'd never be able to accept it. This brief encounter was already painful enough, you didn't want to prolong it any further. 

“No, Matt, I can't just–”

“Please,” he pleaded, cutting you off. “Please just come up.”

You stood there with your lips parted in surprise at the earnestness in his voice. Droplets of rain continued to travel down his cheeks, and you saw one bead of water currently clinging to the tip of his nose, mere moments from falling.

“Matt, I can't,” you repeated. 

“Why?” he demanded, taking another step towards you. “Tell me. Tell me why you can't come up with me.”

You grimaced, your heart clenching tight in your chest as he continued to drag out this encounter. Tears continued to spill forth from your eyes as you stared back at the desperate expression now spread across his handsome face.

“Why are you doing this, Matt?” you whispered. “Can't you tell how much this is killing me right now? Just standing here talking to you? Now you need me to explain why I can’t just go up to your apartment, too? You really need me to–”

“Because it's killing me, too,” he confessed in a rush before you could finish. 

For a second you swore your heart stopped beating at what he'd just admitted. Blinking the rain from your eyes, your mouth fell open in shock. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of that truth, but a part of you began to hope for something right then that you knew you probably shouldn’t. 

“Wh–what?” you breathed out.

“I've thought about you,” Matt began, emotion thick in his words. “Over the years, I've thought about you. I can't–can't stop. I've tried, I really have. But I just…I sometimes feel like your presence is still there,” he continued, gesturing his head towards his apartment building behind him. “On occasion I can try to trick myself into thinking that you are–by ordering your favorite takeout or using that soap you always loved. The one with sage and citrus.”

A hesitant smile spread on Matt’s mouth, something melancholic in the way his lips had only marginally curved upwards. Swallowing the lump that had started to form in the back of your throat, another chill raced up your spine as you stood there in your soaked clothes. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you fought down the shiver that was beginning to lightly run through you.

You’d quite literally often dreamt of this moment with Matt. You'd often hoped that one day you’d run into him again somewhere and he would apologize, tell you that he still thought about you. That he still wanted you. But now that he was saying things you’d always wanted to hear, you didn’t quite know how to react. This moment still felt like one of your many dreams.

“It never works for long, though,” he continued softly, voice just louder than the rain. “Because the scent always fades too fast. And I can’t fake the sound of your heartbeat. I can’t–can’t recreate your scent on my bed sheets or the warmth of your body next to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night.”

You closed your eyes, pressing your trembling lips together as you tried to staunch the flow of tears. You couldn’t believe what he was telling you. A few years ago he ended the relationship–a relationship that had been going so wonderfully well. Sure, there had been issues, but overall you two had fit so perfectly together and everything had just felt right. You’d talked about a future together–moving in, getting married, and whatever might come next. Until one day, seemingly out of nowhere, he’d just walked away from it all. 

“Then why, Matt?” you whispered, opening your eyes and focusing back on him. With the tears filling your eyes, he’d grown a bit blurry standing there before you. “All those years ago, why did you end things? If you’ve been here all this time feeling exactly like I’ve been feeling for years then…what was the point?”

Matt ducked his head almost shamefully, one hand releasing his cane before rubbing it across his mouth. Nerves swirled in your stomach as another crack of thunder tore through the distance, the rumbling sound accentuating the pause that felt agonizingly long.

“Because I was scared,” he finally confessed, his attention seemingly fixed on the sidewalk–though you knew his senses were fixed on you. “I’d never quite felt how I did for you for anyone else before. One time I thought I did and she…left me. But it wasn’t just a fear of you leaving…” 

Matt trailed off for a moment, growing silent as the rain continued to pour down. Your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to finish his thought.

“It was a fear of who I felt I was becoming when I was with you,” he finished softly. “Of what I thought I was losing.”

Eyes narrowing in confusion at Matt, you squeezed your arms tighter around your shivering body. “What do you mean?”

He raised his head, his rain speckled lenses focusing back on you. “We spent a lot of time together, remember? Specifically in the evenings? Before things ended?”

Gaze averting to the ground, you tried to recall the end of the relationship. He had in fact stayed in more frequently. You remembered sharing meals together after work and taking walks at the park. Scheduling date nights on the weekend and staying up late beneath the sheets. It hadn’t been every night, but he had significantly begun to spend more time with you just before he’d ended the whole thing–which had only added to your confusion at the time.

“Yeah,” you answered, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes. “I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I feared I was changing into someone else,” Matt answered slowly, taking a hesitant step towards you. “I thought I was losing the other half of myself in our relationship because I had begun to spend less time as Daredevil. So I–I pushed you away to try to prevent myself from fully losing myself. And I used that as an excuse to run from my fear of you leaving me.”

"T hat's what you meant by not being able to be yourself with me?” you asked, everything finally beginning to make sense. “Oh Matthew,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “You were never losing Daredevil. Not at all. You never once stopped helping the people who needed it. The nights someone was in danger or something was happening, you still put on the mask.” 

Licking your lips as you paused, you could taste the salt of your tears among the droplets of rain. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky behind Matt, just above the tops of the buildings. Seconds later, another roar of thunder punctuated the silence.

“What I think you were doing was learning balance in your life,” you told him. “Learning to be both Matthew Murdock and the Devil.”

“I know,” Matt agreed gently, nodding his head. “But I realized that three years too late. And I'm–I'm so sorry for that.”

Swallowing hard, you felt your heart hammering beneath your arms still wrapped around your chest. “And I never wanted to leave you,” you added, voice cracking as you spoke. “You were my forever, Matty. I told you that.”

A muscle visibly jumped in his cheek, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he couldn't decide on a smile or a frown. Taking another hesitant step, Matt closed the gap between you both. Gazing back at his red lenses, you felt your breath begin to come in sharper now that he was right there . 

Without warning his hand reached up, timidly coming to cup your cheek in his palm. As if on instinct, you leant back into his warm touch, the feel of it sending a shudder through you for a reason other than the contrast from the cold. His thumb softly swept outwards, gently brushing away a few teardrops from your cheek. You felt like you couldn't breathe as the pad of his thumb afterwards began to affectionately stroke a line along your cheekbone. 

“Please come up,” he begged. “Let me help you.”

Eyes closing, you tried to focus on formulating a thought. But it was hard to think with him touching you, with him pleading for you to let him help you. Inhaling a breath, you'd been about to respond, but then you felt him lightly press his damp forehead to yours and your eyes flew open.

He was so close. His hot breath was falling against your lips as it left his own parted ones. The sensation was dizzying, making it hard to focus on almost anything else. Beneath the arms still tightly wrapped around your chest, you could feel your heart accelerating to a worrying speed.

“We can talk,” he told you. “About everything. I have more to apologize for, I know. I just–just want to fix the mess I made. If it's not too late.”

Exhaling a slow breath, you let his words wash over you like the rain itself, cleansing the years worth of pain that lingered in your heart. Gradually you nodded against his forehead, catching the way he sucked in a sharp breath at the little movement. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “I'll come up.”

With the way your eyes had been fixed on his lips, you caught the faint smile that slipped onto his mouth the second it did. Something shot through you like a bolt of electricity at the sight of it. Matt's nose affectionately and timidly bumped yours, a small gesture that brought a rush of feelings straight to the surface along with a confession that bubbled right out of your mouth.

“I missed you,” you whispered. “So much.”

“I missed you, too, angel,” he murmured, thumb brushing away another tear along your cheek. “I've never stopped missing you.”

Matt shifted his head, his lips accidentally grazing yours as he did. A soft whine you had no control over snuck out of you, the sound drawing another sharp inhale from Matt as his nostrils flared. Your hands curled into fists against your body as he leaned in, just barely touching his lips to yours. Eyelids slowly falling shut once more at the feel of his breath washing over you, you sighed in frustration when his mouth still remained at a distance.

“ Matt .” 

You breathed out his name like a plea, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hand. It was quickly becoming far too difficult not to touch him.

“Tell me you haven't thought about this, too,” Matt nearly demanded. “Tell me you don't want me. Just one ‘no’ and I won't–”

Losing control, your hands flew away from your sides and landed on Matt's soaked suit coat, balling the wet material in your fists. “Yes,” you answered him. “I'm telling you yes , Matthew.”

There was a moment, a brief one, where Matt’s face hovered in the space just before yours. Your breath was coming in sharp and hard as you watched him, aware he was probably reading your body for whatever he needed to hear. You knew the exact moment he'd found what he was looking for because his expression shifted just before he launched himself forward at you. 

Stumbling backwards into the wall of the building behind you at the force of Matt's enthusiasm, your eyes snapped shut the second his mouth was on yours. Hands snaking their way up his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in the damp strands of his hair. You pulled him flush to the front of yourself with a faint gasp, his soaked body deliciously heating the front of your freezing and drenched one.

Matt's hand on your cheek held you in place against the brick wall behind you, tilting your mouth to the exact angle for him to easily connect his lips to yours over and over in a heated passion. The pair of you struggled to catch your breath each time he pulled away, your gasping breaths loud in your own ears despite the storm still raging. His other hand landed on your hip, roughly grabbing it as he kissed you. You could feel the way it shook against you, as if he was struggling not to do more than just hold you there. 

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he whispered against your lips.

His mouth was immediately back on yours, relentless in his determination to make you feel just how apologetic he was. Your own mouth was hungrily matching his pace, the rain forgotten as you tried to express the longing you'd been tormented by every single day since he'd left you. 

Fingers gripping his hair, you took advantage of the seconds in between kisses. “Don’t you dare–” you broke off as his mouth slammed back onto yours again, “–break my heart again, Matthew,” you finished when he pulled back.

Matt paused at your words, breathing hard as he gazed back at you, the rain continuing to wash over the both of you. Nearly out of breath yourself, you couldn't help but admire how perfect he looked standing there completely soaked with his flushed cheeks and the small smile gracing his swollen lips.

“Never,” he promised. “I hate myself for ever hurting you like that. And it’ll never happen again, I promise you that. The pain of those last three years was torture. Punishment. And I promise we'll talk, angel, we will, but…”

His voice trailed off and your eyes darted back to his lips. The lips you missed, the lips that brought you comfort in a way nothing else ever had. In that moment you understood him completely.

“But not right now,” you agreed.

Yanking him back towards you with the hand still tangled in his hair, you swallowed the resulting soft growl of his down, kissing him with all the longing that you'd bottled inside for the past three years. Matt didn't hesitate to match your passion and enthusiasm as he pressed you further into the brick behind you, your back arching into him just as another rumble of thunder tore through the night. 

What an unexpected day this had turned out to be.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ardent-crow @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler  @islayhawkin @slyregg

[heartsforseo]

Skincare with the strawhats

A/n: I'm somewhere on episode 500 in One Piece. And looking back at my valorant post... I really did Franky, Jimbei, Chopper, and Brook wrong. But uh... I'll try to do better :D!! Btw this excludes Chopper cuz...how?

⭑Luffy, I'd say wouldn't understand much about it. I mean, he probably knows and have heard a bit from Nami and Robin but that's that.

⭑When you first explained it to him, he was half-listening, so he was a bit shocked when you sprayed some water on his face.

⭑Would think of it as a fun game and splash some water onto you too (your clothes sadly got wet :[)

⭑When you start adding some cream onto his face he found it funny and started making weird faces.

⭑Over some time, he'd actually start liking it and would start expecting one every week (and maybe even every day)

⭑And even if you guys were to do skincare every day, he'd either fall asleep or cause some ruckus. No in-between.

"Hey, Y/n!! Can we do the skinmare thing again??"

"It's skincare, Luffy, and yes."

⭑Overall, 6/10. He's not the worst, but there is definitely better.

⭑It's either Nami who will bring it up or you.

⭑She's the best to do skincare with since she got everything. Like everything

⭑Would prolly make you pay when you use one of her stuff (w/h or w/o permission)

⭑Would actually give you a piece of advice on what or what not to do though.

⭑While doing skincare, Nami will tell you gossip about the crew or from the last island.

⭑If you get on her good side, she might give you one of her equipment.

⭑Would secretly charge you money for all the wrongdoings you did though. And an extra 10,000 berries because you asked her to do skin care.

"Alright Y/n. This session would be 96,000 berries."

⭑Overall, 9/10. Definitely one of the best. con= -1 because she charges after skincare. Pro= You guys will now have skincare every week.

"No."

⭑You have to convince Zoro numerous times (and maybe even guilt trip him) just so he'd say yes.

⭑He'd be embarrassed at first and try to stay quiet (he doesn't want the lovesick cook to see him with a headband on and foam on his face)

⭑He's blushing so hard from embarrassment so be nice to him. It's also a good opportunity to tease him.

⭑Although too much teasing would opt to make him leave. Unless you ask Sanji instead or tell the crew what was happening to Zoro, that would make him stay back and listen.

⭑While doing skincare, he'd let you take the lead (considering he doesn't even know anything about it) and would only let out some grumbles and whines.

⭑After skincare, he'd look himself in the mirror and touch his face, noticing how smooth it was.

⭑He'd then look after the skincare and would ask you about it for more. He won't say it again though, so you better have good ears because he'll be all muttering.

⭑Overall. 7/10, he's very quiet and wouldn't do much unless you say so.

⭑Sanji would beg for it every. single. day

⭑And you finally had enough and said yes.

⭑Now before entering the bathroom, you can already smell the rosy perfume outside.

⭑WOULD have everything and anything. Maybe even more than Nami's skincare collection.

⭑He'd know what type of face skin you have AND the type you use. So it was no surprise when your essentials were already out.

⭑He'd beg give you assistance 24/7 while doing skincare

⭑He'd also ask you if you're feeling uncomfortable, having fun, and would ramble on about some new recipes he's learned.

"I hope you had fun today Y/n. I'm looking forward to the next."

⭑Overall, 10/10. He knows what you need and what you like. He also think of your situation/feelings, and that itself makes it 10/10 already.

⭑Ussopp would fly over the moon when you asked him.

⭑He'd gladly accept it and tell you he had a lot of experience in skin care (which isn't technically a lie since he knew some of it from Kaya)

⭑But of course, he'd still be scared and shaking. What if you didn't like it? What if you don't wanna do skin care with him again?

⭑He'd be rather stiff at first. Scared to disappoint you.

⭑But minutes later he'd start to cool down and come back to his normal self.

⭑Now every time you both will have skincare time. He'd have a bunch of stories saved up only for you.

"Oh Y/n! I have another story for you later."

⭑Overall, 9/10. He's really fun to be with and is def one of the best to do skincare with.

⭑You'd have to ask Robin to join you

⭑She never really thought of doing skincare together unless you bring it up.

⭑And you really know when to pick out the dates since she was so stressed at first T~T)>

⭑Being around a chaotic and childish crew could really stack up stress.

⭑But a simple skincare could really help it get out.

⭑Robin really much appreciated what you did. Especially when you massage her face and shoulders.

⭑It isn't only one-sided. She'd help you out by giving some advice and ideas when she sees you frowning at your own face. Even giving out some compliments.

"This has really helped out my day, Y/n. Thank you very much."

⭑Overall, 9/10. Really nice to hang out with, and would crack a dark joke once in a while.

⭑Franky would definitely say yes and strike a pose.

⭑He'd know a lot of this from Mozu and Kiwi and would sometimes buy them the products that they wanted.

⭑And since he's basically the crew's shipwright, he had definitely tried to recreate the product the stores have.

⭑But wait. It felt itchy when you tried it? Don't worry, he made a new one already. One that you'll definitely find lovely.

⭑You don't like how he designed it? Don't worry, he made an even bigger one with a design you'll like.

⭑Brook is jumping in joy and is asking to see your panties.

⭑Until he realizes he's a skeleton.

"Yohohoho! I'm really exci--oh..."

⭑Overall, 7/10. He's good for emotional support...I guess?

⭑Lastly, our good man Jimbei.

⭑(I only saw Jimbei a few times due to Impel down and Marineford so uh...)

⭑I'd say that skincare never really crossed his mind. I mean he IS a fishman after all.

⭑But once you told him about it and how it can help you relax, he decided to take up the offer.

⭑He's probably embarrassed and just standing dumbfounded. What was he gonna do?

⭑But dw since you helped him </33

⭑AND OMG HE TIED UP HIS HAIR INTO A FULL BUN?!?!?!?!? AHHHHHH (I'm fangirling DD:...i'M SORRY JIMBEI WS SO COOL)

⭑But back to the story. I'd say he really enjoyed that. AND OF COURSE HUGS!!! HUGS ARE VERY MUCH NEEDED!!!

"Thank you for this, Y/n. I very much appreciated it."

⭑Overall, 7/10. He's pretty much quiet and doesn't know what to do. But the silence is really comforting.

A/n: AND OH MY I FINISHED IT!!! I STARTED ON THIS AT 2 PM AND NOW ITS 5 PM HUHU!! ENYWAYSSSS I HOPE YLL ENJOYED IT, LOVE YALL MWA

[areyouwell]

Algophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of pain. Children and adults may have Algophobia if they possess an extreme aversion to feeling pain, typically physical.

Ch.7

Ch.6, Ch.5,5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <-

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: nightmares, vomit, uhhhhhhh nothing intense really, for once... honestly can't remember and i literally JUST reread it :')

Word Count: 14.5K

A/N: told ya i'd keep writing. sorry this one took a little extra time, i'm literally on a train in France having finished editing and proofreading the chapter like, two minutes ago so slay boots. can't believe this fic is almost over like holy shit... congrats to anyone who's ready all of it so far because it's well within the world count of a novel and by the end will probably be over that threshold... so slay of us good job teamsquad also sorry if the layout is janky i hate posting from my phone

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor

Birds. The chittering of swallows, to be exact. Beyond the soft beams of sunlight through the quartered window, the chittering of swallows had caressed him awake, a gentle breeze rustling the orange leaves against the glass, whispering secrets into the light of the morning.

It wasn’t rare Logan woke up before you, in fact, considering how little of a morning person you were, it was rare you woke up before midday full-stop—and this morning seemed no different. Occasional snores bubbled from your chest, you lightly swiped at an invisible irritation around your nose as you turned in his arms, nestling tighter into his chest. Logan hummed a tender smile, smoothing your brow with the pad of his thumb. Your features furrowed as you attempted to escape his touch, unappreciative of the disturbance no matter how gentle.

Huffing a small laugh, he allowed you to burrow further into his embrace, tightening his arms around your body. Six months of this. Six months of the quiet peace of escape. Honestly, he couldn’t be more thankful for the raid on the mansion that day. Here he was, the love of his life tangled in his arms, slowly waking on a sunny, breezy autumnal morning.

His eyes raised to beyond the window, smelling the rain on the air even from inside. Maybe an hour away? An hour and a half at a push. He groaned, realising he’d need to get the bike into the barn before the showers hit. Was leaving the cosy confines of the bed really worth saving and having to scale off some rust later? Absolutely not, but Logan knew you’d be mad at him if he let a splash of rainwater ruin all his hard work.

Pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your brow, your features scrunched in disapproval as she shifted you out of his embrace having to move quickly before you searched for him again and attached yourself to his arm. You whined gravelly protests but settled back down when he pulled the covers back up over your shoulders. He’d make a coffee for you when he came back in. One of those strong ‘morning’ coffees you called them. With at least three heaps of espresso, no sugar, no cream, just caffeine.

Slipping on a fresh pair of jeans and a deep green flannel that you said brought out the colours in his eyes –utter bullshit in his correct opinion– Logan tip-toed down the stairs almost comically slow. He knew you wouldn’t wake. The sun could have exploded and you’d be more irritated if it had woken you up before 1 pm, but he still liked to take care not to disturb you, more out of principle than anything else.

The morning was as crisp as he initially thought, his skin prickly with the cool breeze. He hadn’t bothered with his jacket, since he would only be out for less than thirty seconds. Pulling the tarp from the bike and flicking up the kickstand, he wheeled it back up the small slope and into the barn. If things continued going the way they were going, Logan thought about perhaps clearing out some of the rusted old machinery, maybe making room for a chicken pen, or maybe a stall for a cow or something. You’d be good at raising animals, he thought. And he preferred the idea of getting fresh produce rather than having to head to the store every week or so.

It was an idea that refused to leave his head as he looked around the small space. Just against the far wall, he could imagine a little coop where the old, rusty plough now lay discarded. It would be a ballache to remove it, and Logan didn’t doubt the sharp edges where the metal had rusted away would get a good few swipes in, but it seemed worth it in his mind’s eye to see you crouched next to the nest, holding up a single egg proudly as if you’d laid it yourself.

But if he was to get started, he’d need his jacket. And maybe a thick pair of gloves. Sure, he could heal, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get pissed at him when he wouldn’t take these kinds of precautions, bringing up that one time he said he wanted to do things like a normal couple, to which you’d use to your advantage. “Normal people don’t simply heal their wounds three seconds later, Lo’.”

It was endearing, how much you cared. How hard you tried to keep him safe despite the fact he literally couldn’t be hurt. With a fond smile tugging his lips up at the thought of you, Logan draped the tarp back over the bike, securing the tags around the frame before patting the motorcycle, much like Todd did.

Todd.

Logan blinked. Why did he suddenly have the urge to tear into the man’s chest and rip out his fucking heart? Was his anger returning? But Todd hadn’t done anything, at least not that he could remember. Sure, he was flirtatious with you, but you never let it go too far and it made you laugh, so there wasn’t much harm there. So where the fuck did this sudden urge to split his skull come from?

Taking a deep, calming breath, he attempted to release his anger with his exhale, feeling the rage simmer down slightly, though still extremely accessible beneath the surface. Maybe he was too far away from you. Oh, he was down so bad if that was the reason. He refused to believe it until he left the barn, pulling the bolt shut, and turning to see you in the doorway, two mugs of steaming coffee grasped in your hands.

Was there a better view? He couldn’t think of anything sweeter than what he was seeing, the woman he loved, leaning against the doorframe to the cabin he shared with her away from the rest of the world, safe and free and at peace. Your soft smile could start a war, and your laugh could end it. There was no clean line to where you started and he ended, your very souls totally and completely intertwined.

And you lost her.

Logan whirled at the trees above, searching for where he swore he’d just heard a voice hiss. But he saw nothing other than clouded blue skies and fluttering leaves like an artist’s palette of a sunset. You called his name and he slowly turned his head back to you.

And froze completely.

A small crimson stain started to spread from the centre of your chest, sanguine blood flowing from a fresh wound down your front. Panic leached the colour from his face as he lurched forward, only for his feet to be stuck to the ground. He looked down frantically, tugging at his thighs in an attempt to pull himself free. You were supposed to be safe. He was supposed to keep you safe.

A strangled gurgle was ripped from your throat and he looked back to you just as you opened your mouth, a fountain of blood bubbling from your scarlet-stained lips. Trying to scream resulted in nothing but a rippling stream of sanguine with a guttural yelp. A hand gripped your shoulder from the dark beyond the doorway, a serrated knife dragging a thin line across the hollow of your neck as your palms flew to the arm holding you still in a weak attempt to stop him.

Logan desperately clawed at his legs, eyes unable to look away as Dr.Kreva stepped out from behind your bleeding body, the knife held in his closed grip. A roar tore up his voice, scraping up along his throat as the serrated edge of the blade inched further into the tendons of your neck, snapping through the muscles with a sickening squelch. Your eyes widened as your voice cut off, hands gripping Kreva’s arm falling limp by your sides, light fading from your irises.

Smoke rose from somewhere behind the cabin, and Logan could only blink before the wood erupted into flame, licks and tendrils of scorching reds devouring the exterior. He could do nothing, stuck in a quagmire of his guilt, hands of fire clawing up your legs, igniting your clothes, melting the flesh from your bones. Kreva’s glasses shone in the golden glow, stepping back into the inferno and disappearing as the support beam collapsed.

Staring in abject horror, Logan fell forward, finally released by whatever held his fast. His knees bit as he struck the earth, facing your skeleton lying face down, blackened bones of your hand outstretched towards him in a final, desperate plea for help.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He whispered to your vacant corpse. He’d failed you. Keeping you safe was his only fucking job and he’d failed. He promised you he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t abandon you, and he’d fucking failed.

The shadows rippled and contorted around your skeleton, rising from the ground to conjure seven figures. The same silhouettes he’d woken up to stare him down six months ago. Simultaneously, their hands stretched out over you, void-like fingers splayed, and your bones began to sink into the earth.

The ghost of your body rippled beneath the surface of the darkness before the black smoke curled up from the soil, an eighth shadow figure reforming from the void to complete what he had suspected ever since he’d read the file. There were eight of you. Eight Subjects.

Nine Lives Minus One.

They were the literal shadows of your past. And it terrified him that you had now become one. Logan’s heart thundered in his chest as he looked between the eight figures, shadowing faces simultaneously snapping to look at him, head cocking at unnatural angles.

The one he knew to be yours reached up to its neck, wrapping its long thin fingers around its own throat, before squeezing. A scream echoed in his ears, tearing at the walls of his mind before he was thrust forward, falling through to reality.

Nausea roiled in his gut as Logan jolted awake, bolt upright. The image of your charring body, flesh dripping from your bones burned in his mind’s eye, and that slight nausea shifted to the undeniable urge to vomit.

Staggering from his bed to the bathroom, bile burned his throat as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet, the sounds of his own gagging echoing about the empty stall.

Two months. It had been two months since he’d lost you. And every day felt like thirty. Rage and grief accompanied him like a constant companion. The memories of your laughter, your smile, your teasing comments haunted the halls of the school, corridors once alight with comfort and giggles now felt cold damp. Absent.

They were making progress. They reassured him every long, long day, they were making progress with locating you. Charles had almost locked himself away with Cerebro to locate you, but it was difficult to get a read on anything when any signatures he felt from the once-destroyed facility kept slipping from his mental grasp. Subject One, or Obscurity, was somehow hiding all and any neurotransmitters from the old environment centre. Either that or what whole place was coated entirely with steel, which was also a possibility.

But none of them knew because nobody could get close enough to fucking find out. It was damn near impossible without alerting upwards of sixty armed guards to their approaching location. And whilst Logan would tank the bullets and take them all on alone, Scott wouldn’t let him, and neither would he let him endanger any other member of the team by storming a full frontal assault.

So Logan was forced to wait. And wait. And wait. Every day, you slipped further from him. That first night without you, he’d borderline commandeered the Blackbird to get to Todd. He needed to know what happened. Why he did do it? And it wasn’t a polite conversation.

Rage coursed through his veins as he sliced open the lock to Todd’s garage, throwing up the doors with enough force to break the mechanism completely. Pausing only to sniff the air, Logan growled as he scented Todd’s presence, a frantic Ororo trailing behind after him, placing a weak attempt at a placating hand on his bicep. But he didn’t want to be calmed down. Logan wanted blood. Fuck that, he craved blood. Wanted to taste it as he ripped Todd’s throat out with his damn teeth.

Though the office light was off, Todd’s scent was stronger in that direction, and Logan was fairly certain he was hiding. Good. Smartest decision he’d made in the last six months. Although he would have been smarter to start running the second he betrayed Logan’s trust and had you ripped away from him.

With a balled fist, Logan thrust his hand through the glass on the door, barely wincing as shards of glass embedded themselves in his knuckles. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that kind of sensation. And true to his senses, Todd swore from behind the desk, his voice shaky. Good.

“It better have been fuckin’ worth it for ya.” Logan snarled, ripping the desk from its roots and tossing it aside as if it weighed nothing. Various effects scattered about the floor, a lamp shattering upon impact, files and paperwork strewn like flyers in the wind.

“Jus’ w-wait a minute. I didn’t ‘ave a choice. Bastard threatened my family, what would you ‘ave done?” Todd held his hands up in defence, bowing his head as Logan’s adamantium claws slid from his freshly healed knuckles. The man’s eyes widened in horror. “Yer a fuckin’ mutant?”

Ororo’s eyes blanched, lightning crashing through a telephone pole beyond the doors outside. The blood drained from Todd’s face, as the realisation dawned on him that, they were all mutants.

Logan hated how he understood the man’s fear. And he was right. If the roles had been reversed, if it had been you who was being threatened, he would have cracked in an instant. If your safety was compromised, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure right whatever had happened.

“Fuck. You’re a fuckin’ weasel, Todd. I fuckin’ trusted you!” It was taking every fibre of his self-control not to plunge his claws through his throat and rip through his tendons, but he took a deep, steadying breath.

“What happened, Todd?” Ororo asked, her eyes fading back to their natural colour.

Todd sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Round three months after y’all moved in, this glasses-wearing sleezebag waltzed into this shop like ‘e owned the fuckin’ place, askin’ after the pair of yous. I told ‘im to get lost, I weren’t in the business of information. Till ‘e asked about me wife. And me daughter, Lisa. Put the fear of God in me I tell ya.

“I didn’t ‘ave a choice, Logan, I swear it. I’d never ‘ave told ‘im anythin’ if I knew this were gonna ‘appen.” He pleaded, and Logan had to step away to stop himself from at least punching the shit out of him.

“That’s why you called me, isn’t it? Not cuz of the money, but cuz you knew what was gonna happen.” The question was rhetorical. Of course that was the reason. And if he could turn back time, he would have picked up the phone in an instant, no questions asked. Maybe he could have avoided this altogether and you’d be safe and sound, curled up by his side, back at the mansion.

But as it stood, Logan’s mutation wasn’t time travel.

“I didn’t know exactly, but yeah, I knew somethin’ was gonna ‘appen tonight…” Todd admitted, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “I liked ‘er Logan. I did. She was–”

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, running a stressed hand through his hair. It was only 4:36 am. You had roughly two hours on him, but if he left now and took the bike, maybe he could catch you. Or better yet, if he took the Blackbird…”

“Logan…?”

No. He’d have to land the Blackbird, which would take far too long and he also wasn’t used to piloting something like that.

“Logan?”

He’d take the bike then. Head back to the cabin with the truck and exchange vehicles. But that would take too long, even if he floored it. Fuck! The truck was nowhere near fast enough either. He had to make a choice here, sacrifice time with the small possibility of catching up to you, or possibly sacrifice you and tail Kreva so he leads him straight back to the facility.

“Logan!”

He blinked, turning back to Ororo, who had her arms folded across her chest, her brows pinched in sympathy. “You can’t go after her. It’s too late. We need to strategise this because clearly, they’re expecting you to follow her immediately,” she explained, and he grit his teeth. She was right, and he fucking hated it. Because every second wasted here was yet another second you were in their capture, and fuck knows what they would do to you this time. The thought terrified him. “Come on… we’ll head back to the school, figure something out.” Logan didn’t move, his eyes hard as he glared at Ororo, the thought of leaving your behind had his gut writhing like a ball of vicious, furious snakes. Storm sighed, realising he wasn’t going to be convinced so easily. “She was a member of our team, Logan. She was our friend. We’re not abandoning her…” There was a determination in her eye that genuinely gave Logan a kernel of hope. She was right. You were their friend. You’d made such an impact in their lives, and they weren’t about to give you up so easily.

With an extended sigh, he nodded. Fine. He’d play by their rules. But the moment things stagnated, he’d fucking find you himself.

“I’ll look after yer truck. She’s–”

“I don’t fucking care.” he snapped, not bothering to spare so much as a glance over his shoulder before returning out to the jet.

That was two fucking months ago. And he was certain things had stagnated and he just wasn’t being told. Scott had banned him from surveillance missions, claiming his fuse was too short for missions such as those, and that if he saw where you were being held, he’d snap and tear through anything and everything in his path to get to you.

Not something Logan could disagree with, but he only acquiesced because Jean convinced him it was their best bet at finding you. It physically fucking hurt not to be involved in your rescue missions, but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t particularly want anybody else hurt or captured or killed or whatever the fuck they’d do to them.

Making sure his stomach wasn’t about to surprise him with another surge of bile, Logan stood to the basin, running the cold water from the tap and cupping his hands, splashing his face vigorously in a lame attempt to wash away the nightmare. Because that’s all it was. Just a nightmare. And despite him having intimate knowledge of your mutation, the fact that the last he saw of you, you were bleeding out on a floor of tarmac, scared the shit out of him. He knew you could heal. There was documented proof of you healing from several bullet wounds, however he couldn’t shake the image from his brain.

You barely knew what had happened before you dropped to the floor, your delicately concerned smile for him morphing and shifting to an expression of complete and utter shock. The crack of your skull on the pavement, the harsh gurgle of your coagulated blood as you spat at Kreva….

You didn’t have a choice. He knew that. He knew your body would have given into the shadow in a desperate attempt to heal yourself of the bullet in your chest, but that didn’t make the memories hurt any less.

That was the last he saw of you, and it fucking haunted him. Exhaling a shaky breath, Logan stared into the droplets in the sink, before raising his head, limp strands of dark brown hair hanging damp around his eyes. His gaze shifted to the reflection of the shower. It had taken him almost a week after being back to garner the courage to use it. Not only because every time he closed his eyes he saw your bleeding chest and blanching face, but also because it was identical to the shower in your ensuite, and it fucking hurt to be near it, let alone in it.

The porcelain cracked beneath his grip, pulling him from his memories back into the present. There were times he wished he could simply let himself be lost to the past. At least he was with you there. But he promised he’d find you. He promised he’d never leave you. And he didn’t intend to break it.

Shrugging on the same flannel he’d been wearing for days and a pair of extremely worn jeans, Logan checked his watch. Two minutes past nine. His lips tugged in a bittersweet smile. You’d be furious. Running a hand down the side of his face, Logan opened the door.

Only to find Scott standing on the other side, balled fist held up as if to knock a few times on Logan’s face. If he had the energy, Logan would ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, but it seemed the team was taking it in turns to make sure he was alright now and then. Poor Scott. It seemed he’d drawn the short straw on a particularly shit morning.

“What?” He asked blankly, fighting the urge to silently barge past the man. Sure, they may have shared a sweet moment of understanding after he’d lost you, but that was two fucking months ago. And moments of sweet understanding weren’t enough to make up for the fact you were still missing.

Scott blew out a sigh of relief, clearly expecting Logan to simply walk past him. “Uh, Marie’s looking for you. Says it’s urgent? She wouldn’t talk to any of us…” Scott sounded almost suspicious, but the moment he mentioned it was urgent, Logan was gone, shouldering past him and down the hallway. “She’s out the back!” Cyclops called after him as if he needed any kind of help with directions. He could smell a plan brewing from a mile away.

True to his nose, and annoyingly, Scott’s directions, he found Marie out by the pond, alongside Kitty, Bobby, Peter, Jubilee, Julian and to his heartwarming surprise, Artie. All of them were dressed in their gear, other than Artie who’d simply donned a black pair of trousers, a black t-shirt and a matching beanie.

“We want to help,” Marie said by way of greeting, and Logan folded his arms across his chest, releasing a slightly exasperated breath. Honestly, he was shocked it took this long for them all to catch on. He was back, and you were nowhere to be seen. Classes had all but ceased completely and the Professor wouldn’t be seen for days, sometimes weeks on end. The rest of their little team nodded with boundless determination.

His chest ached with the knowledge there was no way he was about to let these students, your students, run head-first into danger, no matter how much they wanted to. “Look, kids, as it stands, we don’t even know–” he paused, having to steel his nerves. “We don’t even know if she’s still alive.” It was entirely true. He knew you were alive. You had to be. He’d feel it if you weren’t, right? That’s at least how it felt to him. You were part of each other now, neither whole without the other. If you were head, he’d know it.

Kitty clenched her jaw, her hands balling into firsts by her sides, and Logan felt a pang of guilt. She knew. She must have known he was lying. She was somewhere between a student and an X-man, hovering between still learning and a member of the team. Being so close to you, however, it also seemed she had been left out of all the fun. His sympathy morphed into empathy, feeling her frustration as his own.

“She’s still alive.” Your friend whispered through clenched teeth, and Logan blew out a sigh. “They won’t let them help, sure, they’re still students, but I’m not. I’m part of the goddamn team, Logan. And so are you!” She hissed, and Marie and Bobby shared a look of concern before Rogue’s hand touched her shoulder compassionately.

“We don’t care that we’re students. You said it yourself, we’re stronger than anyone realises. We can help.” Bobby urged, and if Logan was being honest with himself, their argument was fairly convincing. They were strong, much stronger than even you realised. But he also knew that if–

No. Not if. When they got you back, if you ever found out that he’d allowed the students to help on the mission, he was pretty sure you’d castrate him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let ya. Not only cuz you’re still students, but you all know, if she found out I was the one who let you help, I’d be killed.” Huffed a smile of understanding. Of course, they wanted to help you, you’d helped so many of them in the past. But he didn’t think that was it. This wasn’t out of some favour for a favour obligation towards you. You were loved. You were so so loved, by so many.

And by nobody more than him.

“Be our spy then.” Jubilee offered from behind Marie, to which Logan raised a brow.

“And how would I do that when? I’m not involved in the planning.” He tried so hard to keep the frustrated growl from his voice, but Artie's slight step back proved his failure. Fuck.

“You gotta convince them. Please? For us?” The hope in Marie’s voice took him right back to where he’d found her almost three years ago now, running from her past. Running from herself. It made sense how you and she got along so well. You were both running.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Logan could feel seven pairs of eyes all trained on him. He wasn’t one to bend to peer pressure, but at the same time, he needed an excuse for himself to get involved, and if doing it for the kids was enough, then that’s what he’d do.

“Alright. Alright. Damn, you sure none of you has a persuasion mutation?” He asked in a lame attempt to lighten the mood. At least Artie found it funny, the kid giggling away to himself in the back.

Marie beamed in gratitude, leaping into his arms and giving him one of the squeeziest hugs Logan thinks he’s ever received. “I knew you’d help! Thanks, Logan, as soon as you hear anything, please let us know, kay?” She stepped back and Logan once again felt that familiar stab of guilt impale his gut. He knew he was going to have to lie to them, because the moment they found out some kind of progress had been made, they’d be out the door like a shot before he could even start to yell ‘wait’.

“Yeah yeah, just don’t mention anythin’ ‘kay? They don’t let me know anythin’ as it is, so this’ll be hard enough without them thinkin’’m feeding back information to the damn students.” Logan grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Okay?” He repeated after a beat of silence, only this time to a chorus of nodded heads and various ‘yes sir’s. “Good, now back to classes, all of you.”

“But… Professor Grey didn’t turn up to teach us…” Julian chimed in, to Logan’s irate twitch of his brow.

“Then go and study.” His voice left no room for argument as each student bowed their head in defeat and dragged their feet back inside until his was just him and Kitty left behind. Logan studied her face for a bit, much more crestfallen than he’d ever seen her. “Y’alright?” He asked, though instantly kicking himself for the ridiculous question. She was probably just as alright as he was, which was absolutely not alright at all.

Kitty clenched her jaw again, unable to raise her eyes further than the blades of grass at her feet. “She left again…” Logan’s heart cracked for her. You hadn’t had time to explain anything eight months ago after the attack. He didn’t even think you saw her before you left, unable to say goodbye before you were on the road with him. And now, he’d returned and you were still gone.

“She didn’t want to, kiddo. She didn’t have a choice…” he didn’t know how much Kitty knew about your situation, but he assumed anything regarding who you were, what had happened in your past and who had taken you was kept on a need-to-know basis. He hated every tear that spilled from the poor girl’s eyes, her frustration conflicting her her confusion. Wordlessly, Logan stepped forward and enveloped her in his embrace, finding the way she instantly fell into his chest heartbreaking.

“I miss her so much…” she managed to sob, her fingers clutching onto the arms of his jacket. Tears pricked his own hazel eyes, having to tilt his head up to stop them from falling. He hadn’t heard his own agony spoken aloud like this, and pain wracked the centre of his chest.

“Me too.” was all he could utter back, fighting to keep his voice stable, clearing his throat in an attempt to loosen the lump constricting his breathing. Kitty stepped back from his arms, furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her palms.

“Right, yeah, ‘course you do. Sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“You’re good. It’s actually kinda… refreshing. Everyone tip-toes ‘round me like ’m gonna bite their head off. Can’t really blame 'em.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. He guessed he should be grateful for the way people were trying to be respectful, but it only resulted in pissing him off monumentally.

“You have been looking like you want to tear the school down recently…” Kitty giggled lightly, and Logan relaxed, thankful he was able to bring a smile back to the girl’s face. His chest constricted as he thought of your proud smile. Teaching the kids he could do. Making them feel better in any kind of capacity? That’s where he fell short, but you excelled. “S’just… Jade was like a sister to me. I hated her for what happened, but we leant on each other so much, she became the sister to me Jade used to be. And I never told her I didn’t hate her anymore. Because I did, or, at least part of me did, but I let that go…” Kitty took a deep breath, tilting her head to the sky as fresh tears stung her eyes. “What if– what if I don’t get to tell her that?”

Logan grit his teeth. “You will. Listen, I still gotta buncha shit I wanna say to her, and there’s nothin’ that can stop me from sayin’ it. We’ll get her back, aight? I promise.” He sounded a lot more confident than he felt, but Kitty blew out a long breath, her tears remaining behind her lashes. If he could bring her some kind of comfort, then perhaps he could start believing it himself. You weren’t dead. He was set on that. But you were in pain. He knew that too. Because whatever they did to you in the past wouldn’t hold a candle to how things had changed in the last seven years. New technology, new information, new drugs.

New weapons.

He shook his head. Thinking about what you were going through wouldn’t help to get you back. And as if sensing his train of thought, Kitty stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. “We will get her back.” She reiterated, only this time it was for his benefit. He offered her a weak, grim smile, before turning back to head into the mansion once again.

Only to be stopped in his tracks by Jean who came sprinting out the door, almost colliding straight into him. She skidded to a stop, pausing as if she couldn’t find the right words. Logan raised a brow.

“We have a lead.” Was all she said, though her words took a moment to register, Kitty came barrelling up behind him. “Or rather, we found a way in.”

Rap rap rap!

A groan rumbled from your lips as you held your pillow over your ears, your head pounding. Your shift last night had been long and brutal, and that was without the endless shots your coworkers poured for you.

Rap rap rap!

“Fuck off!” You called back, hearing a light giggle from beyond your messy bedroom door.

“C’mon, it’s almost midday! You can’t sleep forever!” You attempted to hide beneath the covers of your bed as Morgana opened the door, her face as bright as it usually was this early in the morning. And by this early, you really meant eleven-forty.

“I’m serious Morgo, fuck off. My shift was exhausting and I just want to sleep forever…” you complained, almost hiding as she drew back the curtains to your window. “Morgana?!”

“Get. Up!” She leapt onto your bed, hardly mindful of wherever your limbs lay, before snuggling in next to you, crimson strands of curly hair falling into your face. You sighed heavily. You loved Morgo, you really did, but she could be a total pain in your ass sometimes.

“She still not up yet?” Rowan called from the door, and you swore lowly as he too stepped into your room, followed by Atlas.

“Yeah sure, party in my room. Free real estate up in here!” You called sarcastically from beneath the covers as Rowan attempted to pull them from your body. You gasped in horror, clutching the duvet like your life depended on it.

“Don’t you fucking dare Rowan, I will drown you in shadow I swear to fucking god!” You bit, earning yourself a fit of giggled from Morgana and an appalled gape from Atlas. Your brother placed his hands on his hips, raising a light gold brow as he looked down at you.

“If you could control your powers like I can, maybe I’d believe you, freakshow. C’mon, ouuuuuut of bed.” He strained against your strength as you briefly played tug of war, before you gave up when Atlas stepped in to help your brother, ripping the covers from your clutch with their combined strength and dragging Morgana with it, the girl falling off the foot of your bed with a heavy thump.

“Hey! What the hell?” She slapped Atlas’ thigh and the poor boy jumped back, offering her a shrug of an apology. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Ya know, I don’t know a single twenty-two-year-old who lays in bed all day. Oh, wait, yeah I do. It’s you.” Rowan poked your now exposed foot and you went to kick him half-heartedly. He took a single step back, out of your range.

“Yeah well, none of you fuckers work nights so–”

“I do!” Erin poked her head around the door, toothbrush sticking out from between her white frothy lips. It seems you weren’t the only one out late. “Well, shometimes, it–”

“Take ya brush out ya mouth, Erin…” Atlas sighed, a hand braced against his brow as if being around you all was exhausting. The girl rolled her eyes, tilting her head up so her minty saliva wouldn’t drip all over the wooden floors.

“It depends on the rota, I don’t work late every shift, unlike you.” She finished, placing the toothbrush back in her mouth and dipping out of sight. You heard the tap run as Erin spit out her toothpaste, returning around the door as she wiped her mouth, “We need to get you a new job, girlie. This one’s destroying you. Honestly, you could carry my weekly shop in the bags under your eyes.” Erin crossed the room with the sole purpose of prodding the centre of your nose, before plopping her ass down on the bed next to you.

You looked at the four of them individually, finding a bubble of happiness blooming in your chest. You loved these people. They were your family. They were everything to you. And despite your shitty job, your long hours, the tiny apartment that the seven of you were supposed to share, and how antisocial Naji was, you found yourself feeling extremely grateful for your circumstances.

“I’ll look into it…” you sighed, much to Erin and Altas’ shared glee. Clearly, he was getting tired of healing your various bar-wounds, coming home with various cuts on your palm from where you’d completely misjudged the fall of your knife when slicing up garnish.

“Knew ya would!” Erin chimed, twirling a strand of her badly dyed green hair between her fingers. Her justification was that she could control nature, so surely she should look green, no? But her original black roots had started to show through and she couldn’t be bothered to go through the faff of dyeing it all over again, so she’d just decided to grow it out.

With an irritated sigh, you stretched your arms high above your head, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to rid yourself of the crick in your neck. “Fine, I’ll get up. God, I hate Saturdays. None of you motherfuckers seem to work weekends either.” You grumbled, shooting an exasperated look to Atlas as he muttered ‘language’ under his breath.

“Did you have ya dream again?” Morgana asked, finally removing herself from your floor and dusting herself off. Rowan and Atlas went to head back down the stairs, where you could now smell bacon rising from the kitchen. Maybe it was worth getting up if Rowan was making breakfast. Or lunch, you guessed.

“Hm?” You asked, having not listened to her question at all. The girl rolled her eyes, slapping your arm as she followed you to the bathroom.

“Your dream? Did ya have it? I need to know more about Mr.Sexy and his hot claws.” She grinned and you snorted a laugh, before taking a moment to try to remember if you even dreamed at all last night. Though your awakening had been rude, you’d awoken feeling a slight panic in your chest which had nothing to do with Morgana storming your room. Although if you were being quite honest, you didn’t really want her to know more than she already did. You had a sneaking suspicion she was writing down your dreams in the hopes that she would dream of your nighttime visitor.

“Yeah, actually, I did…” you started hesitantly, giving her reflection in the mirror a flat look as she clapped her hands excitedly. Erin scooted over across your bed so she could be involved in the conversation, listening through the open door. “I don’t remember much of it,” you confessed, rolling your eyes as Morgana’s face fell. “But it was pretty mundane. We were just…” you took a moment, pretending to try and remember what it was about. “We were just chatting. On a bed, but like, a four-poster bed. Same one as last time, with the whole crossed gun thing above the headboard” It was one you’d genuinely had before, and Morgana’s shoulder sagged in disappointment. “Sorry Morgo.”

“Wait that’s so cute, why’re you apologising?” Erin called from the bed, and you snorted a laugh.

“Because I’ve had that one before. It seems to be recurring.” You shrugged, feeling a little nugget of guilt swell in your gut. Now you’d thought about it, your dream last night had been harrowing. You were caked in blood, lying on the road. He was reaching for you, stationary, the world around swirling and blurry with shadows before you blinked and he was gone. Two months you’d been having dreams similar to this one, or at least starring the same man. He was incredibly attractive, hence Morg’s nickname for him after you described him to her, but you knew nothing about him. Each dream he was silent. You were too. You were just near each other, either doing mundane things or going through what you assumed was the worst moment of your dream self’s life. It was really fucking weird.

“Awww… I wanted something new.” Morgana pouted and you narrowed your eyes at her reflection, spitting your toothpaste into the basin before splashing water across your face in a lame attempt to freshen up and wash away the memory of your nightmare.

Twirling to face her, you placed a hand on your hip. “Yeah well, seems my mind’s just conjuring shit on repeat now sooooo…” you made a face and Morgana stuck her tongue out at you, before padding out the bathroom with you in tow.

“Still, s’interesting you get dreams of the same guy. S’like you’re having a relationship in your head… wait no that just sounds sad.” Erin furrowed her brows in an attempt to think of another way of putting it, but gave up almost instantly. You flopped back down on your bed, leaning forward to your chest of drawers against the left side wall, and the fact you could easily reach the drawers from your bed was a testament to just how small your room was. Pulling out a loose pair of sweats and a grey hoodie, you didn’t hesitate to strip in front of the two girls. Having known them since childhood, it was an uncommon occurrence for the three of you to change in front of each other. And this was no different. Though Morgana’s brows furrowed as her eyes found a scar cutting straight across your chest, from just above your left breast, over the centre of your breastbone, to down below the right-hand side of your ribcage. It was gnarled and jagged, a slice made without much care, but you couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have it.

“That’s new, when’dya get that?” She asked, eyeing you suspiciously. You’re head cocked to one side, raising a brow in confusion.

“I’ve always had this, whaddya mean?” An ember of concern ignited in your gut as you regarded her for a moment. You watched the way her eyes lost focus, almost dissociating for a moment, before she shook her head to clear the haze behind her eyes.

“Right… yeah no you totally have. Sorry, must be goin’ nuts.” The girl grinned, and you inhaled a relieved breath. You didn’t need Morgana careening off the rails right now. She was the one who kept you stable, or at least less grumpy.

“S’alright. Tough few days?” You tugged on your sweats, already hating the fact that in two hours, you’d have to be getting ready for work. It took an hour to commute to the bar, that’s if the buses were on time and not disappearing randomly. God you fucking hated the public transport here.

Morgana nodded a little absently as if still fighting back whatever brain fog she’d just encountered. “Yeah, something like that…” She trailed off, and you didn’t push any further. It happens to all of you from time to time. You were talking to Altlas the other day about the way you’d all graffiti the walls of your first hideout when you were kids, talking in detail about the first sketch you’d done before transferring it onto the wall. Only, he didn’t remember it that way. You went back and forth for a while, until he had that same faraway look enter his eye, and all of a sudden he was agreeing with you, as if a switch was flipped in his brain.

“Oh! Before he left Joseph said you could have the rest of his milkshake, by the way. In payment for the pasta you made him yesterday.” Erin chimed in, examining her nails, her legs sprawled across your bed like it was her own. And honestly, you all acted like that. The rooms were all pretty communal at this point, you’d known each other for so long.

You perked up a little. Milkshake and bacon? Maybe getting up before midday was worth it after all. Not that it was much before midday now, and in fact, the small alarm on your watch just told you it had just gone twelve. Only two hours til you needed to leave.

Fucking great.

“Kind of him, I’d take it with me if Carlos wasn’t such a stickler for company drinks. I think he’d stab me if I brought in my own…” You half-joked, to both Erin and Morgana’s morbid shock.

“Girl we really need to get you a new job.”

“Like, ASAP…” Morg finished, and you scoffed slightly. You didn’t need one that badly. Just one within the next few years would be nice…

You blew out a breath, standing from your bed after pulling on a pair of warm socks. There was a winter chill in the air, and you were certain this year was going to be a cold one. You could feel it in your bones. Rubbing at your arms, you almost slipped down the stairs, Morgana’s hand instantly steadying your steps in a hand clutching your arm. How fucking tired were you? It felt like your legs straight up didn’t damn work.

“Enjoy your trip?” You heard Rowan call from the stove, and you clenched your jaw against your dumb smile. God, you hated that joke. Or, at least, you told yourself you did, when in actual fact it made you smile every damn time he said it.

“Ha-ha, yeah ‘see you next fall’ you’re so fucking funny Ro’.” Smoothing your brow with your hand, you went to sit at the breakfast far, the rest of your found family having forsaken a dining table upon moving in and instead opting for this slightly decrepit, unstable wooden bar with garish-coloured seats that were various heights. Even the lighting matched the anarchy of the decor, the scrappy bulb flickering every so often. None of the furniture matched in your apartment but to be honest, that was part of the reason you loved it so much. It was chaotic, but it was home.

Your heart spasmed in pain, to the point where your brow furrowed. What the fuck just happened? Rowan seemed to have noticed as well, sending your an inquisitive look, which you instantly brushed off. Nothing to worry about. At least, not yet.

Rowan shrugged, shimmying the pan of baken in his hand before removing three slices and placing them on a plate before you, alongside a freshly washed fork clearly leftover from last night’s takeout they all had that you weren’t invited to because you were at fucking work goddamnit.

“Thanks, Ro’, smells great.” You offered him a small smile, one he returned, before heading over to the far too-small fridge to dig out the rest of Joseph’s milkshake he’d said you could have. You didn’t mind making pasta for him yesterday. In fact, you kind of enjoyed it. Most of the time, when the rest of your family ate, you were at work so you never got the opportunity to cook for them. That was mostly down to Rowan unless he was working the late shift at his apprenticeship, in which case the two of you would leave together and the other’s had to fend for themselves.

It was often a bombsite when you’d return.

With the first mouthful of crispy, smokey bacon, you quickly decided getting out of bed was worth the aggravation, even more so when you dumped a whole load of maple syrup onto your plate. You don’t think you’d ever met a Canadian in your life, but if and when you did, you might just have to kiss them for even being associated with maple syrup.

Speaking of sweet treats…

“Anyone want one of my special hot chocs? I’m annoyed and up early so my treat for having to deal with me,” you grinned a little wickedly into your milkshake, the room whirling in complete surprise, to the point where you had to hold up your hands in defence. “What did I say?”

“Whaddya mean ‘special hot choc’?” Rowan asked accusingly. “I’ve never taught you how to make hot chocolate before!”

“Yeah, I’m with Ro on this one. Since when did you have a special hot chocolate recipe?” Erin almost pouted, as if you’d deliberately been keeping it from her.

You thought for a moment. They were right, you didn’t always have a hot chocolate recipe. You only learned that from…

Wait, who?

And when you went…

Wait, where?

Maybe you didn’t have a special recipe after all. Were you just remembering things wrong? YOu must be. Where and when would you have picked up a special recipe for Christ’s sake? You haven’t been anywhere with anyone to have done that.

Must have been the exhaustion talking. The lights flickered again.

“Must be going crazy…” you mumbled, accepting the fact that no, you didn’t have a special hot chocolate recipe.

You felt something wither away and die in your chest.

“You really gotta stop all those late nights.” Rowan placed a hand on your shoulder, concern etched in the pinch of his brow. It hadn’t been too long ago you and Rowan had fought, the argument you’d had still echoing in your brain. It was over your mutation, and his since it was so similar yet the complete opposite. He’d berated you for not having gained control of it yet after accidentally plunging a supermarket in a blanket of shadow upon finding out they were out of your favourite bread. It wasn’t your fault, really, but you’d made the whole situation worse when you lost complete control.

Three people were taken to hospital.

Two of them died.

You shook your head. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. You’d managed to repair the relationship between you and your brother, there was no point dwelling on the past.

The idle chatter of the kitchen continued as you fell silent, turning your attention instead to the strange series of dreams you’d been having. Most of you only remembered because Morgana would remind you multiple times a day by bringing it up all the time. But there was one thing you hadn’t told her that had occurred in almost every single dream you had.

One word.

Or an animal you guessed.

Or a bug.

Were bugs animals?

Did the animal kingdom include fish and birds as well as mammals?

Shit, you were getting off-topic. Your brows furrowed in concentration, trying to remember your train of thought. What the fuck were you just thinking about? Your jaw clenched with the effort of remembering. You swore you were deep within–

Firefly.

The chair clattered behind you as you shot from your seat, eyes round and wide in panic. What the fuck was going on? Where were you? You could barely register the faces of those around you, but you knew you hadn’t seen them all in a long long time. You weren’t supposed to be here. None of this was real. You were back, he’d found you again. Shit! Where was L–

“You okay…?”

The tension left your body as Morgana settled a hand on your shoulder, her auburn brows pinched in worry. Darkness swam at the edges of your vision, before you shook your head slightly, freeing yourself of your daze.

“Yeah… shit, yeah, sorry. Fuck, what is wrong with me today?” Your voice shook slightly as you gave your family a slightly nervous smile, bending to pick the chair back up. Fuck, you really needed to sleep more. Fucking job was going to kill you off. For sure.

A quick flick of your wrist and you saw you had around an hour and a half before you needed to leave. A heavy sigh blew from your lips as you downed the rest of Joseph’s milkshake he’d so kindly donated to you, before shooting an annoyed look to the bulb as it briefly turned the kitchen into a club dancefloor, before winking out completely.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me…” Rowan lamented, placing down whatever protein shake he’d opted for the morning and dragging over a barstool to stand on. “I told Naji we needed to get this shit fixed and he told me he’d text the landlord, but this is just–”

None of you were strangers to natural phenomena. You were fucking mutants, for Christ’s sake, your very existence was a natural phenomenon. However, watching a barstool blink out of existence entirely wasn’t exactly on your list of things you’d ever seen. Or even things you would like to see. Rowan was cut off midsentence as he crashed to the floor.

You all stood in utterly stunned silence.

“Y’all saw that too, right?” Erin asked, glancing warily around the room before taking a small step toward Atlas next to the window. Well, that was one suspicion you’d had confirmed then. Tension thickened the air, static apprehension making your saliva sweet and your breath hot. What the fuck was going on?

Rowan stood from the ground, dusting himself off, his gaze tracking warily around the perimeter of the room. Another mutant, perhaps? It wasn’t exactly common in the area, but it wasn’t unheard of. Some poor kid with shitty control over their new mutation discovers their first big act of power was accidentally erasing a barstool out of existence. “Chill out, it’s most likely a power cut or some new electromagnetic mutation. We’re fine.” Rowan attempted to soothe, though his voice was anything but convincing. Especially when a squeaked gasp emitted from next to the window, where Atlas had flipped up the blind to the outside world.

“Does the sun get power cuts too? Or did you just absorb a bunch of light this morning, Ro?” Morgana asked, though her eyes were trained on the pitch black outside the crummy window. You crossed the kitchen alongside Rowan, the five of your leaning out of the window to get a good look at whatever the fuck was going on.

Or rather… not going on.

“What the hell…?” Rowan muttered as you all watched the outside world flicker in and out of existence. One second it would be the neighbourhood you’d come to know so well, the next the sky turned grey and grainy, like an old TV trying to find signal. The flat next door would completely disappear, replaced by walls of steel. Your heart raced, stomach flipping.

“Joseph’s still at work…” You breathed, and Morgana turned to you as if she’d only just realised it too, fear flickering in her dark crimson eyes.

“I’ll text him, let me–” Atlas was cut off swiftly, the floor beneath your feet flickering, before that too completely disappeared, and you were all plummeting to the ground. Wind whipped at your hair as you desperately flung your arms out in search of a shadow.

“ERIN!” Morgana screamed as Erin’s hand extended before her, attempting to search for some kind of plant life. But your flat had become nothing, merely glitches of light around you. A strong arm circled your waist and turned to see Rowan’s golden eyes wide with fear.

“My shadow!” He called, flipping the two of you so you were beneath him. You didn’t think twice, trusting he had a plan before your molecules dissolved into the darkness across his front. You could still hear the rush of wind, Morgana’s cry of pain before the descent started to slow and you could sense various shadows around you growing. The moment your world seemed solid enough, you reformed, your eyes taking a moment to adjust before you registered Altas healing the nasty looking cut on Morgana’s hand, blue glowing particles rising from where his palm encased her hand.

She must have slowed your fall, the steel floor now a pool of blood where she’d borderline drained herself to save the rest of you. Wordlessly, you crossed to where she swayed slightly, placing her arm around your shoulder to act as a support.

“Thanks…” She murmured, closing her eyes to recover from that woozy feeling of using too much of her power. You went to brush off her gratitude, to tell her it was the least you could do after she’d just saved your lives, before part of the wall before you started to close in an inch. With a hiss and a screech, the steel split in two, casting a rectangle of blinding light and causing you all to throw up your hands.

“Guys?”

You all knew that voice, and there was a collective sigh of relief when Joseph stepped through the door. But the voice you knew to be full of jokes and laughter sounded exhausted, beaten. Defeated. Where the fuck had he been?

“Joes? What the fuck is going on?” Rowan called, dimming the light so you could all remove your hand-shaped shields from your eyes. “Where’ve you– Holy shit are you okay?” Rowan ran forward, catching Joes as his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.

A gasp flew from your lips. He was caked in blood. And not in the way Mogana would be if she somehow lost control. He’d been hurt. Badly. Almost surgically. Various parts of his skin had been removed to leave behind raw, pulsing muscle exposed to the outside. His face had been all but completely disfigured, where his eyes used to be dark and inviting, the whites were now bloodshot and his pupils dilated.

“Move,” Atlas instructed sternly, Rowan shifting slightly to the side before he lay his hands on Joes’ chest in the same way he did for Morgana, those same blue particles rising and winding around Joes like grapevines, dipping into his various wounds and closing them over.

“They’re here to help us,” Joes muttered, his head lolling to look back out the gap in the wall. What the fuck was he talking about? Help you do what? One moment you were all having brunch and you were sipping a milkshake, the next your fucking flat had disappeared and you’d all plummeted fifty feet straight down.

You cast Morgana a confused glance, now recovering quickly, and she sent you one right back. “Who’s here?” You asked, eyes lingering on the fear in Morgo’s before Joes pointed out beyond the darkness and into the light.

Three elongated shadows shrouded the light, but it was the one in the centre who drew your attention. Broad-shouldered, strong-armed, with two little flicks of hair licked up either side of his head. You knew that outline, like a memory forgotten, or a faded dream. With the light behind them, you couldn’t see their faces, but you could see they all wore the same suits. The girl on the right gasped, her hands covering her mouth as she almost fell to her knees.

Morgana tilted her head in confusion, and you shrugged, not taking your eyes from the three shrouded figures.

Though you felt a well of unspecific emotion rise in your chest as the man in the centre spoke, his tone soft, voice deep and gruff.

“Hey, firefly.”

Logan didn’t know what he would say to you when he saw you again. When Jean had told him they’d found a lead, he expected it to be at least another month before anything would actually happen about it. He wasn’t expecting the entire team to have assembled already, suits and all, prepared to head out that night. His chest constricted with impatience when the team were stalking the halls. He knew they all had the element of surprise, but if he was being honest, stealth was never really his strong suit. He just wanted to find you. He just wanted to hold you and apologise as many times as he needed to in order to ease the heavy weight of guilt off his shoulders.

What would he say to you? How much he’d fucking missed you? How sorry he was he couldn’t protect you. How he’d promised he’d keep you safe and then lost you? But the moment those doors opened and he saw you, with Sanguine leaning heavily on your shoulders, all and any words quickly left his mind. You looked tired. That wasn’t to say you didn’t always look tired, but you looked fucking exhausted. Dangerously skinny, as well. The muscles on your arms had all but faded, your cheeks had hollowed, and your neck looked like it could be snapped with a light breeze. Fuck you looked so fragile.

“We’re gonna get you out, okay?” Logan took a step forward, only for you and the rest of the mutants to take a step back. A spear thudded into the centre of his soul as he watched you try to figure out what was going on. But it was the look in your eyes that shattered every fibre of his being.

Unfamiliarity.

You had no idea who he was.

“They don’t remember,” Joes said, rising from the floor once Atlas had taken a step back away from Logan, Scott and Kitty. She’d insisted she came with the rest of the team and said she’d just hide in the walls anyway, so they may as well take her along willingly. Scott begrudgingly agreed.

“We don’t remember what?” Logan’s eyes slid to the man with the golden hair and eyes, who looked remarkably similar to you. Rowan. His eyes narrowed. “Joes what the fuck is going on? What don’t we remember? Who are you fuckers?”

“Rowan!” The man next to him hissed. Judging from his appearance and general attitude, Logan guessed that must have been Atlas, or Harmony. He’d already run into Joseph, and rescued him when Ororo controlled enough lightning to short out their electrical units, plunging the facility into total darkness. All that was left of that practice room was blood and entrails.

Logan had made sure of it.

“None of this is real, Ro’. They’ve been forcing Naji to fuck with our minds, man. Every time one of us goes to ‘work’, they take us out into the real world and fuck with us. You saw the state I was in, man. C’mon!” Joseph pleaded, and Logan could see the cogs turning in your brain as if trying to process what he was saying.

“The fuck are you talking about?” The girl with the bright green hair piped up, boldly stepping towards Joseph and dragging him back towards the rest of the group protectively. “Who’s ‘they’? Whaddya mean fuck with us?”

“Naji wouldn’t do that, Joes.” Your just managed to keep the tremor from your voice, dropping Morgana’s arm from around your shoulders and taking a cautious step towards your brother. What the fuck was going on? You looked between the three newcomers, the girl on the right stepped forward, and your eyes narrowed on her. “Another step and you’re dead.” You hissed, extending your hand behind you to the shadows as if you could do anything but disappear into them. Morgana drew out her knife from her boot and sliced open her palm, blood swirling and morphing until three sharp spears floated above her head.

“Let’s all just take a breath…” Logan murmured in an attempt to soothe the rising tensions in the room. Why he’d thought this would go smoothly, he had no idea and found his present self kicking his past self for making such stupid fucking assumptions. He held out his palms in peace, trying in vain to come across as non-threatening as possible, his eyes trained on you. “It’s okay…” His brows pinched as you looked at him with disdain.

Who the fuck was this guy? Sure he looked and sounded exactly the same as your dream visitor, but you refused to believe they were one of the same. Just some freaky coincidence, and you didn’t even know if his mutation was the same. He hadn’t shown anything yet, and for all you knew, it could be something completely different.

But a hole of doubt had burned through your gut.

“Wait… isn’t that–”

“Shut the fuck up, Morgo.” You hissed before Morgana could even finish her inquiry. You knew exactly what she was about to ask, you’d felt her eyes flicker between you and the man ever since he’d called you firefly.

Total coincidence…

“She has a point though. Naji wouldn’t do that to us. Sure he’s antisocial and spends most of his time in his room, but we’re still his friends. His family. He wouldn’t do that… would he?” Uncertainty laced Erin’s tone as she eyed the three outsiders suspiciously, reaching into her back pocket. You glanced her way, holding your breath. You knew what he had stored away in her cargo pants, not just in her back pocket, but in all of them. Various seeds for every variety of plant you could think of, her favourite being the Venus fly trap because of course that was Erin’s favourite plant.

Logan’s chest spasmed at Erin’s words. He knew he was going to have to take them all to Charles and return their memories to them. Not knowing what would happen to the bonds you’d all made with each other terrified him. What if that just made everything ten times worse? What if you and the others remembered everything and decided to go along with Kreva’s plan? He’d already seen Rowan, Morgana and Joseph working for Kreva…

What would stop them this time?

“This is taking too damn long…” Scott muttered, throwing a glance behind his shoulder to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them. Logan couldn’t help but agree. It was taking far too long. He didn’t want to take any of you by force. That was a last resort, and only if you couldn’t be convinced. If it went against your current wishes, he honestly didn’t give a fuck. You weren’t safe here. You were back where you started, and he’d be fucking damned if he was leaving without you today. Taking the others was a luxury, taking you was the priority.

“Let me talk to them. Please. They don’t know what’s going on. Naji restores our memories before the testing begins, but they’re always erased and replaced when we come back. They don’t know anything, just give them time.” Logan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Joseph. He was the only one out of the group, perhaps other than Naji, who knew what was going on and was stuck between saving his friends and getting the fuck out of there.

“You have thirty seconds.”

“Scott!” It was the first time Kitty had spoken up since seeing you, and to be honest, Logan had almost completely forgotten she was there. She’d been non-verbal, dealing with whatever she was dealing with after seeing you in the state you were in for the first time in two months. Now, however, she seemed to have recovered.

Unlike Logan, who still found it difficult to look at you, yet equally difficult to look away.

“Thank you, man,” Joseph nodded his head in gratitude, before turning back to the rest of the group. “Look, I don’t know how to convince you, but they got a mutant back at this crazy mutant school that can help get your memories back. He’s like, the only one other than Naji who can do it.”

“If this is true,” you began, folding your arms across your chest in a way that had Logan holding his breath, the familiarity nauseating. “Then why don’t we just ask Naji to restore them? He’s our fucking friend, Joes. Why would he do this?” You implored him to see reason. To see that there was no reality where Naji would work against the group, antisocial or not.

“Because they’ve–”

“Now now, Subject Three. Don’t go spoiling all of our secrets now, will you?”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled, though the voice meant nothing to you. You didn’t recognise it at all, but you noticed the way the three newcomers all bristled and the way Joes seemed to shrivel in fear. Following ‘Scott’’s gaze, you looked up to see Naji, bruised and beaten, his neck held in a vice grip by some formless, faceless figure with a large gun slung over his back. The mirrored window had been smashed open, blood leaking from Naji’s knuckles as his legs dangled over the side, held out over the shattered glass by the throat.

“Joes…” Rowan growled in instruction, the rest of you already being on the same page. Joes could teleport not only himself but various other people of different numbers depending on size and mass. But the man just stood there, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring in utter terror as Naji gurgled and fought against the hold around his neck.

“Kreva.” You heard the muscular man behind you snarl, and your mind did somersaults as three long, razor-sharp claws slid from his knuckles. There was no point in denying it anymore. It was most definitely the same mutant from your dreams.

“Ah, The Wolverine. How darling to see you again. Here for Subject Eight, I presume? There’s no point. It remembers nothing of your cosy little forest getaway.” Dr Kreva covered his mouth theatrically, gasping as if he’d made a terrible mistake. “Oh no, have I said too much? No matter. Once all you X-men are disposed of, this will be nothing but a bad dream to them. Isn’t that right, Eight?” It took a moment to realise the skinny, crooked-nosed man was addressing you, but how the fuck were you supposed to know that when he wasn’t even calling you by your name. And what the fuck did he mean by ‘cosy forest getaway’? You’d never even left the city.

“The fuck is going on…?” You asked aloud, taking a step back and towards Joes, who was still stuck in frozen, abject horror. “Joes… you gotta get him. He’s gonna fucking kill him!” You hit his arm with enough force to break the man from his terror-stricken paralysis, only for him to blink away from you, shaking his head wildly as if his mind was a wasp’s nest, his nails digging into either side of his temple.

“No no no nono nononononono–” Your mouth fell agape in fear as he fell to his knees, small rivulets of blood leaking down either side of his face as he clawed at the sides of his head.

“Joes?”

“Joes!”

“The hell?”

Adrenaline pumped through your blood as you slowly started to realise whatever the fuck was going on, it very much was not good. In fact, it was most likely that all of your lives were on the line. And you knew that right here, right now, you had to make a choice. You all did.

“You got a clear shot, Scott?” Kitty asked, stepping behind Logan slightly. Though he didn’t mind. As long as she was safe and out of the line of whatever fire could come their way, he was more comfortable. Now if only he could get you in a similar way.

“Lined up.”

“Don’t shoot!” Rowan waved his arms frantically as Scott’s fingers braced against his glasses, jumping between the mutant and his friend. “If you shoot Naji’s dead, for sure. Just– just hold on, okay? We can figure this out.” He pleaded, to the amusement of Dr. Kreva from above, his cackling laughter sure to haunt your nightmares for a good long while after.

“Oh, Five… always the peacekeeper. Always the pacifist. It’s a shame you’re such a killing machine, though nothing like your sibling. We should showcase that, Eight. Show them all what you’re capable of…” Kreva placed a thumb and forefinger beneath his chin mockingly, once again making a show of having you all at his mercy. “In fact… One, if you could. Not too much though, just enough to unleash the Phantom.” You felt your blood turn to ice in your veins. That was your mutant name… how the fuck did he–

Pain ripped through your mind as you fell to your knees, your hands biting painfully as you caught yourself before you broke your nose on the ground. Though where you should have felt cold steel, you instead heard the groaning of tight leather and a low grunt of impact.

It felt as if you were being unstitched, torn open with a rusty knife. Your head split apart and searched inside as Naji’s mutation invaded your conscience. You heard a scream coming from somewhere but were too focused on trying to stay sane as memory fragments of pure agony were thrust into the inner walls of your mind, scraping down your subconscious. White hot pain laced through your throat and you finally realised it was you screaming, your voice cracking and breaking as you fought Naji’s hold.

Rowan screamed your name as Logan lunged forward to catch your fall, dragging you into his lap and holding your arms by your sides. “We gotta go!” He roared to Scott, who nodded in agreement, barking out orders just as Kurt bamfed into existence. Morgana reached for you as Kurt placed his three-fingered hand on her shoulder, her desperate scream cut short as she was teleported from the room. Logan turned his attention back to you, back to the searing torment etched on your face as you writhed in his arms. “I know baby, I know, it hurts, just hold on.” He called your name soothingly, though his voice shook. Seeing you like this, in such pain, ripped at his self-control. And he loathed how you would have to do this all again when he got you back home.

What Logan didn’t know, was that you’d heard his voice, and held onto it. You wouldn’t let yourself be manipulated so easily. Fighting Naji hurt. It hurt like hell. He was fucking strong, winding a white-hot thread of memories throughout your head, but you thrashed and flailed from his twisting web, using your dream visitor’s voice as an anchor point.

“What’s happening to her?” Logan’s eyes left your face for two seconds to meet with a pair of golden ones he’d only ever seen fighting against him. Rage flared in his gut as he thought of the man who’d assisted in your capture, but this wasn’t the same guy. Sure, he had his body and his face and his powers, but this was a sibling. A brother. He was your brother, and Logan could see that in the way terror pinched his brows and widened his eyes.

“I don’t know, but we need to get her out. Now.” Logan responded, removing a hand from your arm to smooth back your hair as your neck all but snapped backwards, head almost rolling off his lap completely as your entire body contorted violently. It was getting worse.

Rowan nodded, a flicker of determination glittering in his golden eyes, before extending his hand out towards the light. “I can buy you time. Get her safe,” he instructed, and Logan found his rage toward him settling slightly. “I’m R–”

“Rowan. Yeah, I know. She spoke about you a shit ton.” He gave Rowan a half smile as his head tilted in confusion. Logan held out his hand. “Logan.”

Though the bafflement didn’t fade, Rowan shook his hand nonetheless, before getting to his feet, his hand still extended towards the light. “When I say run, run.”

“Thought you were a pacifist?” Logan asked, holding you tight against his chest as he lifted you from the ground, the shadows in the room now quivering in anticipation. Naji was winning. With a glance to both Scott and Kitty, he could see they’d been listening in and were ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“Not when they threaten my fucking sister,” He spat, the skin along his forearms and neck beginning to glow a bright, blinding white. “Go.” Was all he said, before the room erupted in sunlight, and Logan took off at a sprint, keeping you close to his heart. He had you back physically, your strained breaths and grunted whimpers told him that much.

Now he just needed to get you back mentally. And for that, he needed Charles.

“S’okay, you’re okay, just a little longer baby, I know…” he soothed as he raced round the corner, struggling to hold you still as you fought his hold, the darkness of the corridor lashing out in great, spiked tendrils, slashing at his arms and legs and leaving searing lines of crimson through the leather of his suit. His stomach flipped as he looked down at you, your spine arching back, head snapping, eyes rolling up behind your skull leaving behind nothing but black, hollow darkness. He was losing you. Fuck, he was losing you.

“C’mon on sweetheart, c’mon.” He ground, feet pounding against the floor as one of his shoulders was ripped back, knives of pure shadow tearing through flesh. He grit his teeth against the pain, racing through a set of open doors and launching the two of you towards the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. Your mouth opened as you released a strangled scream, your limbs jerking and flailing in his grasp, Logan almost losing his grip on your writhing body. Tucking your head between his collar and jaw, he pressed on until he could finally see the service door they’d snuck in through. “S’okay, not much farther now. Keep fightin’ him, firefly. You gotta keep fightin’.”

Serrated knives tore through your memories, flashes of pure, unadulterated agony rushing your nerves, setting your veins alight with liquid fear. Thrashing your head back, you attempted to clear your mind’s eye of Naji’s hold, razorwire slicing at the base of your brain. You had very little knowledge of brain anatomy, only knowing the basics, but you knew for certain he was attempted to break through your hippocampus both physically and hypothetically. But you held onto him. Onto the man who, in turn, held you. A kernel of safety shining within the ocean of fiery anguish. You held onto his voice, their meaning.

Shadows swirled around your wrists, encasing your hands in two sets of obsidian claws, raking down both sides of Logan’s arms. You were losing the battle, he knew you were, if Joseph was right and you didn’t remember anything, there was no way you’d have this kind of control over your mutation. Using his already-healed shoulder, he burst through the locked service door and barrelled down the stone tunnel, out into the night-air. He didn’t know what Obscurity’s range was for his mutation, but he had to assume it was limitless. Anything less and he was likely to let his guard down.

Breath burned in his lungs as he sprinted for the jet, hearing the door behind him open and close another two times for both Scott and Kitty. He didn’t know how many of your friends Kurt had managed to rescue, but it didn’t matter to him. You were there, in his arms. And as long as that was his reality, he didn’t give a shit about anything else.

His feet thundered against the metal of the ramp, and ducking into the deck of the Blackbird, he was greeted by an extremely concerned-looking Jean the moment her eyes lay on you.

“Help me…” Logan begged, collapsing to his knees, and the redhead wasted no time in extending her hand towards your rapidly twitching head, veins of pitch black etching their way up your neck towards your temples. Instantly, Jean grimaced, her mouth gaping in some unseen pain as she entered your mind. All Logan could do was sit and watch helplessly as she engaged in some kind of mental battle with Naji. Her brows pinched with effort, the tendons along the backs of her hands flexing and tensing with strain. Logan desperately swiped your sweat-matted hair from your brow as if to clear a better path for Jean’s mutation.

“Jean!” Scott barked, fear echoing around the deck of the jet as he lunged forward towards his girlfriend, only to be held back by Ororo, who looked utterly exhausted. She’d been high above the facility, concentrating on keeping the power down with various surges of lightning. And now she looked completely spent.

Slowly, gradually, your twitching started to cease, each muscle in your body relaxing separately as Jean managed to exorcise your mind of Naji’s manipulation, until you sagged in Logan’s arms, your breathing steady, your eyes closed as if you were just sleeping. Scott broke free of Ororo’s hold, rushing for Jean before she collapsed onto the hard ground. “You okay?” He asked, bracing her face in between his palms. Jean offered him a tired nod, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Got her back.” She murmured, and Logan clenched his jaw to stop tears welling in his eyes. He gently manoeuvred your body to lie comfortably in his lap, the back of your head nestled in the crook of his elbow, his arm encasing your waist. You were back.

You were back.

Kitty knelt beside you, a hand grasping your limp, skeletal one, tears silently sliding down her cheeks. Logan knew what she was thinking. What she was contemplating. What had they done to you? What fresh horrors would you be battling once they returned your memories? Logan’s thumb slowly caressed your protruding ribs. He’d be there with you. Whatever you had to endure next, whatever fresh hell awaited you when you woke, he’d be right there next to you.

“We gotta go…” Scott muttered urgently to Ororo, who looked out beyond the ramp to the Blackbird, awaiting Kurt’s next arrival.

“We can’t… they’re still in there!” Morgana raised her head from where she’d been sat on one of the seats. “Atlas, Joseph, Naji and Rowan are still–” she was cut off by another puff of blue smoke, Kurt falling to the ground and releasing Rowan’s arm from around his shoulder. Blood leaked from the blonde’s nose, his hands braced against the steel as he caught his breath.

“Is she okay?” Were his first words, barely looking around before his golden eyes rested on your unconscious form and Logan’s protective hold. He could almost smell your brother’s disdain, his nostrils flaring as he slowly pieced together the narrative in front of him. “Logan, right?”

Logan nodded once, returning Rowan’s cold look with one of his own, baring his teeth ever so slightly as he tried to gauge the threat of you being taken from him again. Rowan visually backed off, his expression to exhaustion. “I guess a lot can happen when you don’t see someone for eight years. As long as you take care of her, that’s cool with me.” Rowan shrugged, having recognised just exactly what he was looking at.

As the Blackbird rose from the ground, Morgana clicked the belt across her middle and shakily made her way over to sit next to Rowan, eyes flickering between you and him.

“So… those dreams she had… they were actually memories?” She asked him slowly, and it took a moment for Logan to process all the subtext of the question before he nodded again. Even with your memories replaced, you could never truly forget him. The realisation made his chest swell and his heart ache. He was acutely aware of Rowan listening into the conversation. “Holy shit…” She breathed, tapping your arm lightly. “I hope you’re listening, you lucky bitch. He’s fucking gorgeous.”

So this was the Morgana from the reports. This was the girl he’d read about, not the one who aided in your capture two months ago. What the fuck had Kreva done to you all? How could he get Naji to manipulate you all in such a way? To the point where you’d all help him. Although it was a nice breath of fresh air for even a thread of humour to be woven into the cockpit. “Right, Erin? You’re with me on this, yeah?”

Morgana turned to the green-haired girl who’d curled up against the wall, her hands hugging her knees against her chest. “Erin…?” Morgana asked tentatively, and only then did Erin look up.

“We fucking left them.” She spat, her eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. “Atlas… Joes, Naji…. We just fucking left them. You got your precious Phantom back and just abandoned the rest of them.” Her hands flexed around her knees, chest tight.

“I’m sorry…” Kurt piped up from where he’d been nursing a small graze on his arm. “I couldn’t… It was carnage in there. I rescued who I could but–”

“Yeah well, it wasn’t fucking good enough. Who said we even needed rescuing anyway? This could all be total bullshit.” She hissed through gritted teeth, and Rowan placed a hand protectively on your shoulder. Logan knew he shouldn’t have bristled the way he did, the man had proven himself loyal, but he couldn’t help the memories of that night flashing to the forefront of his mind.

“Erin, we’re not abandoning them. We’re gonna go get them back, right?” Rowan looked to the rest of Logan’s team, who in turn looked at each other in uncertainty. They had you back. That’s what they came for. But something niggled at Logan’s mind. You wouldn’t stop there. If the tables had been turned and you were saving him, you wouldn’t stop until everyone was safe. He himself included, but that was given.

“No. We’re not abandoning them,” He spoke for his team, five heads snapping towards him, each with their own look of shock. “Ya know she’s just gonna go after them herself, right? And she wouldn’t stop til they’re all safe. And I dunno ‘bout you, but I ain’t letting her do that alone.” He finished, and Kitty smiled at him with tearful determination.

“Agreed.” She said, turning to the rest of the team. Ororo nodded and Scott sighed heavily, only swayed when Jean placed a hand on his arm.

“Alright then… guess that’s our next mission.” Scott sighed, irate.

“Thank you. They’re our friends so we really– Joes?” Morgana’s head tilted to the side as suddenly, seemingly out of thin air, Joseph blinked to existence, Rowan’s wrist held firmly in his grasp. Logan’s heart stopped. This wasn’t the same mutant they’d saved from testing during the mission. His eyes were glazed over, subdued hatred burning in his pupils as Rowan turned to his friend.

“Just Five.” He rasped, white foam leaking from his cracked lips.

“Joes? What’s–”

“ROWAN!” Logan roared, lunging across your form to take hold of your brother, only his fingers grazed nothing but thin air. Whatever Naji had done to Joes, it was the same thing he’d done to Morgana that night. And Rowan all too often.

But he was gone. Your brother was gone. And now there was no debate about what you’d do when you woke.

He just hoped, that whatever Charles restored, would be enough to get your brother back too. For your sake.

[dreaming-medium]

Bad Day - Bang Chan Drabble

Summary: Reader has a terrible day; one of those days where everything goes wrong. Luckily, her boyfriend is there to wipe the stress away with some well deserved hugs.

Word Count: 2.2k

——————————————————

Punch after punch after punch after punch lands on your soul today. Every single time you turned around, another horrible situation would present itself.

You’ve been sick for two and half weeks now. The sore throat would come and go, but you weren’t able to sleep without propping two pillows under your head. This morning when you woke up, your voice was completely gone.

The empty space next to you in bed certainly doesn’t help either. Chan has been gone for a work trip for two weeks now. He wasn’t due home for another two more.

Work has been its own animal to take care of. It was your first job after graduating, so you were at the bottom of the totem pole. Each higher up suddenly felt the need to burden you with any difficult projects they didn’t feel like taking care of themselves.

“I don’t think this is something I was trained on,” you tried to say to one of the more older workers. The huge stack of papers was so heavy in your hands. “These calculations would take me—“

“Just do it, Y/N,” he said before closing the door to the conference room you were standing alone in.

You had just watched that coworker’s boss tell him to do it. But nope, he dumped it on you.

On top of that, you were also tasked with training the new guy even though you’ve only been here for nine months.

And this guy made it his personal mission to make your job even harder. The way he would go from not knowing anything to being a complete know-it-all within two sentences made your blood boil.

But it’s fine. It’s totally fine, you can handle this.

Then, someone ate your lunch out of the fridge even though your name was clearly written on it. Your lunch break was so short that there was no way you could run out to get something else.

It was raining so hard as you jogged to your car through the parking lot. Every spot in the parking garage was taken this morning so you had to use the satellite lot ten minutes away.

Your clothes were drenched by the time you got into your car and slammed the door shut.

Fumbling with the keys, you shoved them into the ignition and started your car. The heat immediately kicked on and you sat there for an extra couple of minutes, warming your frozen fingers in front of the vents.

A book from one of your favorite authors came out today. You were going to pass the store on your way home, why not stop and buy a copy? It certainly would help with the day you were having.

The drive to the store was silent. You didn’t even turn the radio on. If you’re being honest, you didn’t think you could handle sound.

People were everywhere in the bookstore.

You walked in and looked around for the new book. There were signs and posters everywhere that announced the book. Where was it?

“If you’re looking for the new Kingdom book we sold out this morning.” A worker says to you softly.

A small part of you dies.

You politely nod to the worker and leave.

It’s ridiculous how you feel the tears building behind your eyes.

It’s fine. It’s fine. You’re overreacting. It’s totally fine. You’ll just buy a copy on your Kindle. You didn’t even need a physical copy, right?

Your fingers fumble with your keys and you drop onto the ground. They splash right into a puddle.

It’s fine, it’s fine.

Swallowing painfully, you wince at your sore throat and gather your things to get back in the car.

You’ll go home and watch TV.

“It’s Friday,” you whisper to yourself in the car to try and calm down. “It’s treat day, why not stop for a coffee?”

Every Friday you would buy yourself a coffee. ‘Treat Day’ is what you dubbed it as. It slowly became a tradition with you and your friends.

Chan used to always reload your coffee rewards app with his own money without telling you.

A sad smile tugs at your face while you drive to the coffee shop. God, what you wouldn’t give to see him right now.

The tension in your shoulders is so bad you think your shoulders are level with your ears.

After getting your coffee, you drive all the way home to your apartment complex.

Right before you turn into the lot, a car decides to come out of nowhere and cuts you off. You cut the wheel and slam on the brakes to avoid them.

Your coffee launches out of the cup holder and spills all over your lap.

“Fuck!” You curse and try to focus on the road. “Fuck fuck!”

At least it was iced coffee and you’re not burned. Right? Silver lining?

You’re at your limit. Your sanity is teetering.

Parking in your designated spot, you trudge into the large building.

The weight of the day still sits so heavy on your shoulders. Now your lap was soaked with coffee.

A package sits underneath the complex’s mailboxes. It’s ruined and crushed. The ‘FRAGILE’ sticker is gnarled up.

“No,” you sigh and look closer at it.

Yep, it’s yours. The new dishwear set you ordered came in.

When you lift the package you hear all the pieces shift around. It’s just a box of broken ceramic at this point.

Tighter and tighter your throat gets.

Slowly, you trudge up to your floor. Because, of course, the elevator is broken. Of course it is. Why would the elevator work today?

Just as you get your keys out to open your door, your shitty neighbor comes outside.

“Oh god, Y/N, you look horrible.” He says loudly.

You turn and look at him with tears already brimming in your eyes.

No sign of compassion crosses his face, instead, he laughs. He laughs right in your fucking face.

“No wonder I haven’t seen Chan around. He finally came to his senses, eh?”

Your jaw drops open.

“God, pull yourself together.”

Your neighbor picks up his newspaper from the doormat and goes back into his unit without another word.

For a long moment, you just stand there. Your clothes and hair still soaking wet and clinging to your skin, work bag and purse slung over your shoulder, box of broken plates and bowls in your arms.

Inside your body, you felt yourself finally snap. You felt your anger and frustration hit it’s limit.

Your look of surprise quickly morphs into one of seething rage. Lips pulling in a sneer, you rip open your door and stomp inside, slamming it shut behind you.

Dropping everything you own at the door, including the box of glass, you let out a muffled scream.

The box bursts open and glass shards go everywhere. They skitter across the floor and cover the wood in a dangerous mine field.

A moment of silence passes.

You lose it.

You drop to your knees and cradle your face while angry, hot tears stream down your cheeks.

Wails leave your lips as the weight of the day finally takes it’s toll.

On any normal day, you would be able to handle these things individually, but all at once? You just couldn’t deal with it anymore.

“Y/N?!” A voice calls out from the other end of the hallway.

Your head snaps up and you see your boyfriend standing there with a look of horror on his face.

“Chan,” you croak out.

His eyes frantically look around at the scene in front of him. Your disgruntled state surrounded by broken glass.

He’s here? He’s back?

“Y/N, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?”

He tries to walk closer but then he realizes he’s also surrounded by broken glass.

“Chan.” Is all your able to say again before the sobs come out even harder. Your entire body wracks with them, chest sputtering as you try to breathe between cries.

His face twists up in anguish.

“S-Stay there! Don’t move, I’m gunna get a dust pan, okay? I’ll be right back, babygirl. Don’t move.”

He continues to say things over and over to you while running to get what he needs.

“I’m here, baby. You’re okay, right? You’re home and safe, Y/N.”

You bury your face in your hands again and continue to cry. His words reach you, but they do nothing to quell the emotions.

Before you could fall further into this headspace, two warm, strong arms wrap around you and pull you into an even warmer body.

“I’m right here, honey, I’m here. You’re okay.” Chan whispers into your hair. He pulls you onto his lap and holds you close.

His comforting scent envelops you everywhere.

Chan rocks back and forth while holding you.

“You’re okay,” he says over and over into your hair. “You’re home now, I’m here, Channie’s here.”

Your face buried into his shoulder, hands gripping his shirt tightly

“What happened, baby?” He asks gently.

You cry harder.

“I’m so sick,” you cry into his shirt. “People keep taking advantage of me at work, I had to park ten minutes away in the rain. Someone ate my lunch. I dropped my keys in a puddle, the new book sold out, I spilled my coffee everywhere. Then fucking 304 across the hall tells me how horrible I look.”

You motion outwards at the glass all over the floor still. “And how do you like our new dishes?”

Even in the middle of a mental breakdown, you still crack a joke.

Saying it all makes you cry even harder. At this point, Chan’s shirt is soaked with your tears.

He continues to hold you as tight as he could. Not once does he tell you to stop crying, instead he carefully scoots and leans against the wall, cradling your body on his lap.

Chan rocks back and forth, pressing kisses into the crown of your hair as you cry your heart out.

His one hand rubs slow circles on your back while the other pets the back of your hair.

Low hums come from his throat. Chan lays his cheek on top of your head and keeps you close to his chest.

“It’s okay, babygirl,” he coos. “You’re home now. You’re with me now.”

“Thank god you’re home,” you hiccup and clutch his shirt closer to you.

“My spidey-senses were tingling,” he jokes in a hushed tone.

You manage to chuckle through your tears.

“My babygirl needed me.”

You’ve always been so happy go lucky, the glass was always half full with you. You always looked on the bright side of everything. If anything bad happened, it always just rolled off your back.

It was one of the main reasons he fell for you.

Chan has never seen you as bad as you were on your knees in the entryway, it shook him to his core.

Another long kiss is pressed to your head.

Slowly, your sobs calm down. Your throat still hoarse and sore from before has only gotten marginally worse.

Sniffling, you sit up away from Chan.

“‘M sorry I got your shirt all gross.”

Chan laughs in spite of everything. Both of his strong hands cup your cheeks for you to look him in the eye.

His chin dips down to your level so he can stare right at you. Those gorgeous brown eyes sparkle at you.

“I’m not upset about my shirt, Y/N,” he says gently. “I’m only worried about my sunshine. It’s not every day you cry, baby.”

“Everything just happened at once.” Chan’s thumbs wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “I tried to keep it together but our neighbor verbally berating me was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Chan tuts and brushes your hair behind your ear.

“Let’s throw eggs at his door,” he jokes.

He pulls a laugh from you.

“There’s my favorite smile.” He coos. It makes your smile even brighter. You sniffle again, and look down sheepishly.

Chan lifts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. “Hey baby,” he grabs your attention. “How about this: you go shower off the day, I’m going to clean all this up and order our favorite takeout for dinner. I even stopped on my way home and got two pints of ice cream before.”

“Mint chocolate chip?” You ask softly.

“Of course I got your nasty toothpaste ice cream.” He pinches your cheek teasingly.

You giggle and lean away from his hand.

“Come on, babygirl.”

Before he does anything else, Chan leans forward and presses a long, warm kiss to your forehead.

Both of your eyes close at the comforting feeling it brings. After he kisses your forehead, Chan leans down and kisses both of your cheeks.

His warm lips then press to your nose and then finally to your lips.

It’s a long, sensual, loving kiss. Both of your mouths slipping over one another in a dance.

You sigh happily into the kiss. Chan’s mouth smiles against your own. It’s contagious, you can’t help but mirror the grin with our own.

In the end, you both look like smiling fools wrapped up in one another’s presence.

Chan scoops you up carefully and stands up from the floor, making sure to avoid any stray shards of glass.

“I’m going to take good care of you, my honey.” He coos and presses another kiss to your forehead. “Your bad day ends here.”

[wongyuseokie]

Practice Makes Perfect | c.s.c, j.w.w & k.m.g

Summary: Mingyu needed some help sexually. So his Hyungs decided to ask a simple favour of you, and who are you to say no to them? Besides, who could deny them pleasure? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕smut | ♥︎ completed Word Count:  2669 words 

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Female Reader | Female Reader x Jeon Wonwoo | Female Reader x Kim Mingyu 

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Smut, Fluff, PWP. Content Warnings: None. It’s a PWP, and with my bias line. Mingyu is made to be a lot shyer and a little less experienced here. It’s the only way I can humble a man that fine. Mingyu needs some help, I guess? (but does he really?). Mentions of alcohol.  

Smut Warnings: Dom! Cheol, Subish!Gyu, Dom Wonwoo! Unprotected sex (pls don’t do this irl). Overstimulation, double penetration, breast & nipple play. Oral (m & f receiving), face riding, squirting. Mentions of public sex. Pet names (good boy, baby boy, pretty girl), praise kink. Pussy slapping. Cum play. Biting, it’s mild. Authors Note 1: Thank you so so much to @here4btsfics & @junkissed-replies for beta'ing this for me! Thank you also to @seungkwansphd for reading and then telling me I should be in horny jail. ILY bby. Authors Note 2: Also happy birthday to Wonwoo, the bestest boy. To celebrate him, let's thirst over a fine-ass man and his handsome friends.

Authors Note 3: tagging my lovely @the-boy-meets-evil because it's her birthday month, and I gotta make her suffer too. Also tagging my lovely Zeta @multi-kpop-fanfics because we suffer the Wonwoo rot today (every day). Tagging my lovely @seokgyuu too. Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Seriously? Hyung, I mean it; how do I make her cum with my mouth?” Seungcheol kept laughing at Mingyu. 

“Come on, Hyung; he’s trying to learn,” Wonwoo said with a smile. 

Seungcheol stopped laughing and looked at them.

“Okay, fine, Mingyu. Do you think I have a doll or something you would practice on?” Mingyu looked down. 

“Besides, it wouldn’t help. Each woman is different. No woman’s clit is at the same location as the others.” Mingyu sighed.

“I know. I just, since my ex, I haven’t been able to, like, I want to make a girl come undone because of my tongue and then fuck her,” Mingyu blurted out. 

“Mingyu, I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Wonwoo comforted. 

“Anyways, shall we head to Y/N’s house? I’m sure we’re already late?” Seungcheol asked, and the other boys nodded. 

You were on your second glass of wine, waiting for the boys to show up. It was movie night, and they had kept you waiting for the past hour and a half, and you were getting antsy. 

You decided to pour a glass of wine, which turned into two, and you were sipping when you heard your doorbell ring. You opened it to find your three best friends all looking extra apologetic. 

You all had met because Wonwoo had somehow managed to splash water on you at a bar. Seungcheol, the charmer, helped you get some tissues, and Mingyu was there, while he was shy at first, but he soon became your fellow cuddle buddy. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Mingyu over here wouldn’t shut up, so we got delayed.” Mingyu glared at Seungcheol.

“Hyung,” he warned, and Seungcheol smiled.

“I won’t tell her. Chill,” you narrowed your eyes at Seungcheol’s words. 

“What were these three up to?” You thought. 

You smiled at Seungcheol, never being able to get annoyed at any one of them entirely. 

“It’s okay, come on, help me in the kitchen. Wonwoo, Mingyu, get settled, make yourselves at home and pick a movie,” you said, inviting them in, and they followed you into the apartment while Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. 

Moments like these, you were thankful for having a door that led to your kitchen because the minute you had shut the door behind you, Seungcheol had you pushed against a counter and his lips finding yours. 

“I’m sorry we’re late, Y/N,” Seungcheol apologised, mumbling the words against your lips. 

You and Seungcheol met at a bar, mainly because Mingyu accidentally spilt a drink on you, and Seungcheol took you to the bathroom to help you clean up, and one thing led to another, and somehow you ended up fucking Seungcheol in a random bathroom bar. 

It was a good arrangement. You both had amazing sex and no strings. 

“What was Mingyu asking about anyway?” You asked, now grabbing glasses and bottles of wine from the counter. 

Seungcheol bit his lip, “how to eat a girl out.” 

“Didn’t he have a girlfriend?” “He did, but I think he wants it for a one-night stand or hookups so he can, and I quote, ‘make her cum on my tongue before I fuck her,” Seungcheol elaborated, and you smiled at his words. You couldn’t help but picture it; Mingyu was eager, and willing to learn. 

“Y/N, I know that fucking smile.” 

You smirked, “what if I give him a lesson?” 

Seungcheol  grinned, “can I watch?” 

You and Seungcheol emerged from the kitchen to find Wonwoo and Mingyu sitting on your sofa. Mingyu had removed his leather jacket, leaving him with a sleeveless top showing off his muscles. 

Wonwoo, on the other hand, was on his phone, and his tight black shirt was doing nothing to hide how much he had been working out in the last few months. 

“What movie did you pick?” you asked. “We couldn’t pick one, so we just have music chilling in the background. Let’s make it a wine night,” Wonwoo replied.

You sat on the couch, and Seungcheol pulled you to his side.  

“Mingyu, how’s single life?” You asked innocently, and you heard Seungcheol suppress a laugh as he caught onto your motive. 

“Uh, good, you know. Nothing terrible.”

“Easier to get casual sex, right?” You asked innocently, and Mingyu stilled. 

“Hyung, what the hell did you say to her?” Mingyu asked, glaring at Seungcheol. 

You blinked as you set your glass down, walked over to Mingyu and stood before him. You sat down on his lap, throwing your legs around his waist. 

“Mingyu, look at me,” you said, and he did just that. 

“Good boy.” Mingyu felt your praise shoot straight to his cock. 

“You wanted to learn how to eat a girl out?” You asked, and Mingyu started turning red. 

“Do you want me to teach you?” You continued to ask. 

“Or?” Seungcheol interrupted. 

“Do you want your Hyung to show you?” Mingyu bit his lip at Seungcheol’s words while Wonwoo, who was enjoying this all too much, smirked.

“Show him, Hyung. He’s a visual learner anyway,” Wonwoo chimed in, and you nodded. Mingyu was still frozen. At the same time, Seungcheol sat on the floor in front of you. You crawled off Mingyu’s lap and found a space between him and Wonwoo. 

“Kiss me, pretty girl,” Seungcheol instructed, and you did as he asked, placing your lips on Seungcheol’s as he moved his lips with yours. He pulled your lower lip between his as he kept kissing you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. 

Your moans filled the room, along with the music. Seungcheol’s hands went to your shirt, pulling it off, revealing a sheer bra that left little to the imagination, while his hands found your shorts. He pulled your shorts and underwear off together. 

Wonwoo, who was already hard, found the clasp of your bra and undid it, helping you out of the material. He lifted one leg onto his thighs. 

“Mingyu, take her other leg,” Wonwoo said as Mingyu shakily moved his hand to your thighs, lifting over his muscular legs. You felt so exposed, and Seungcheol’s hot breath on your cunt did not help.

Wonwoo’s hand found a way to your breast. He started massaging and squeezing the soft tissue, making you moan as he traced circles around your hardened nipples. Mingyu was practically catatonic until Seungcheol told him to move. 

“Mingyu. You’ll turn into a statue at this rate. Kiss Y/N.” Seungcheol said as he started stripping himself down to his underwear; you turned your head to face Mingyu, who was turning into a lovely shade of fuchsia.

“Baby boy, kiss me,” you said, and you felt Mingyu practically launch himself at you. His lips found yours, and he kissed you. While Seungcheol was a more passionate kisser, Mingyu was more playful. 

His tongue kept running along your bottom lip; he would slip his tongue in now and then and deepen the kiss. Mingyu would gently tug at your bottom lip with his teeth, making you moan and writhe. 

Mingyu pulled away to trail kisses down your neck. He bit and sucked his way to your collarbone, ensuring that he ran his tongue over each of his love bites, soothing the area. 

You moaned as he continued and tugged his hair, making him look at you. 

“Baby boy, you’re so fucking good at that,” you praised, making Mingyu smirk. His lips were swollen, and his eyes glazed over with lust. 

A slap to your clit brought your attention back to the room and Seungcheol ’s carnal gaze. 

“Mingyu, watch what I do. Watch how I make her cum with just my mouth.” You squirmed at Seungcheol’s words, desperate to feel his lips on your cunt. 

You would never let Seungcheol know how good he was at eating you out. He already had a massive ego when it came to his skills in bed, and you didn’t want to inflate it further. 

“Mingyu, eyes on her cunt,” Seungcheol instructed, and Mingyu nodded, his hand massaging your breast, mirroring Wonwoo’s actions. Seungcheol leaned forward and ran his tongue from your entrance to your clit. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, you almost hated how easily Seungcheol made you a mess, but at the same time, you weren’t exactly complaining. You moved your hands down to Wonwoo’s trousers while the other moved to Mingyu’s. Both men groaned as you palmed their erections. 

Seungcheol ran his tongue up and down your folds until he finally fixed his mouth on your clit. 

“Fuck, Cheol,” you whimpered, feeling him smirk against your pussy. 

Mingyu’s gaze never once left your cunt. He observed as his Hyung lapped at your cunt. He noticed what parts of your cunt, when touched, made you moan and whimper. 

Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your cunt and started to suck, making you buck your face against his mouth. Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your cunt to speak. 

“Wonwoo, take her in your lap and hold her tight,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo did as he was told. 

You were sat in Wonwoo’s lap between his thighs, your lower back pressing against his hard length. 

Wonwoo’s muscular arms wrapped tight around your waist, immobilising you as Seungcheol  dove back in. 

Seungcheol resumed his actions as his mouth found your clit again, he kept sucking, and you kept squirming, making Wonwoo moan each time you moved against his cock. 

Seungcheol licked and flicked your clit until you whimpered and came on his tongue, and Seungcheol lapped at your entrance, licking your release. 

Seungcheol smirked as he stood up. He pulled off his briefs and sat down in between the two men.

“Wonwoo put her on me,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo smirked and lifted you and lowered you down onto Seungcheol’s cock.

“Y/N, hands around my neck, pretty girl,” Seungcheol commanded, and you nodded and wrapped your hands around Seungcheol’s neck as he started thrusting his hips upwards, making you moan and fall forward. 

“So fucking tight,” Seungcheol said as he groaned.

“Mingyu, rub her clit.” Mingyu nodded as his hand moved to your cunt. He gently moved his fingers along your cunt and stopped when he heard you gasp. 

“There?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded. 

Mingyu wasted no time rubbing your clit. His fingers moved vigorously, and you were cumming in practically no time.

Seungcheol's groans got louder as you came around his cock. He hissed and pounded into you as you moaned and keened in oversensitivity. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” Seungcheol groaned, thrusting a few more times and stilled when he came inside you. Seungcheol slowly pulled out of you.

 “Keep my cum inside you,” Seungcheol instructed. 

Seungcheol carried you gently and laid you down on the other end of the sofa.

“Gyu, you wanted to eat a girl out? Go on, make Y/N cum,” Seungcheol instructed lazily. 

Mingyu bit his lip to suppress a moan. You moaned when you heard his instruction and stayed still, waiting for Mingyu’s mouth. He got so hard at the thought of being able to lick your pussy clean of Seungcheol’s cum. 

“Mingyu, take your clothes off,” you mumbled as he approached you. You almost laughed at the speed with which he undressed but then had to bite back a moan when you saw his body. 

Mingyu crawled and laid down between your legs. You could feel his breath on your cunt as he moaned and dove straight in. He mirrored Seungcheol’s actions; however, Mingyu was playful. He would alternate between his tongue and lips. 

Mingyu moved his mouth away from your cunt, and pulled you up on the sofa. Your hands tugged at his hair.

“More, Mingyu,” you whispered, and he laid down and pointed to his face. 

“Ride my face, Y/N,” Mingyu asked breathlessly, and you nodded as you straddled his face, his hands wrapped around your thighs, inching you upwards so he could push his tongue inside your cunt. 

You nearly fell forward at the welcome intrusion. Mingyu moaned when he tasted Seungcheol’s cum inside you as he moved his tongue and licked you. 

“Do you want more, pretty baby?” You nodded. You heard Seungcheol’s voice from behind you. 

You found Wonwoo standing at Mingyu’s head, his cock hard and in his hand. You adjusted yourself and wrapped your lips around his.

“Fuck, can I fuck your throat?” Wonwoo asked, moaning, and you simply hummed in approval against Wonwoo’s cock, the vibrations making him buck his length in your mouth. 

Wonwoo started by wrapping your hair in a ponytail and moving his hips in and out of your mouth. You let Wonwoo fuck your throat, and Mingyu kept licking you. You whimpered as you started to feel your orgasm wash over you. 

You came around Mingyu’s tongue, whimpering, but Mingyu’s grip on your thighs made it impossible for you to move. He continued licking you while you moaned while deep throating Wonwoo. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m going to cum,” Wonwoo growled, and you hummed, letting him know he could. Wonwoo thrust a few more times until he stilled and spilled his hot cum down your throat. 

You moaned as you swallowed him. Wonwoo smirked devilishly. He was far from being done with you, but you didn’t have to know that just yet. 

Mingyu kept lapping at your cunt, until you shook your vision, fading as you rode your orgasm out on his face. You whimpered as you felt a strong pair of arms pull you off him and hold you tightly. 

“Mingyu, you said you didn’t know how to eat a girl out, and you made this one squirt with your tongue,” Seungcheol said, cocking his brow at him. Mingyu grinned as he licked his lips. 

“I watched you, and she liked it,” Mingyu mumbled shyly, and you noticed how hard Mingyu was, and you motioned for him to come forward.

“Nope!” You heard Seungcheol say. 

“Cheol, fuck, I need to fuck him,” you protested, and Seungcheol grinned. 

“Oh, you will. Just you won’t fuck him alone. Mingyu, lie down again,” Seungcheol instructed, and  Mingyu nodded and retook his position. 

“Y/N, take him inside you,” Seungcheol instructed, and you practically crawled over and sank yourself on his length, hissing at how good he felt inside you. You felt a hand slap your ass, and you turned around to notice Wonwoo, who pushed you down so that you were lying on top of Mingyu. 

You felt Wonwoo push his cock inside your cunt, and your mind went blank as he sheathed himself further and further inside you. Both men were hissing at the tight fit while you just let out whimpers. 

Once Wonwoo was entirely inside you, he started moving his hips and tapped Mingyu’s thighs to do the same. You kept scratching Mingyu’s chest, trying to hold on as both men were fucking you. Neither one of them would last long in such a tight fight. 

Hisses and moans filled the room as the three of you were ecstatic. Seungcheol was hard and stroking himself at the sight. 

You felt Wonwoo cum inside you first, biting down on your shoulder as he did and pulled himself out, making you and Mingyu hiss. Mingyu pounded into your cunt as he came inside you shortly after. 

You were panting, trying to catch your breath as Mingyu pulled out of you. You didn’t realise when, but he had you flipped and on the sofa, and his lips on your cunt. 

You screamed at the touch, you were so swollen and sensitive, but Mingyu pushed his tongue inside you, moaning as he tasted your cum, mixed with his and Wonwoo’s. 

He licked you until you came again. He moved away from your cunt to your lips, pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Fuck.” He moaned as he took a seat next to you. 

“Okay, it’s my turn to ravage her. You two, make sure you hydrate,” Seungcheol teased, smirking as he pulled you off the couch and threw you over his broad shoulders, slapping your ass as he carried you to your bedroom.

[kometqh]

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝔂..

Pt2. Captain Rex x F!Reader x Fives What happens when two of the men you admire suddenly begin to show just how interested they are in you, days after your secret diary goes missing? Word Count: 3514 Warnings: Edited but most likely has some grammar mistakes, reader is scared of water. A/N: Ugh this took my poor little brain too long to write but it's here now and I'm very proud <33

The rhythmic buzzing of cicadas paired with the summer heat and sunbathing on the beach was the perfect situation to find yourself in. The negotiations had gone smoothly, and your squad was permitted a spontaneous shore leave.  

Navy blue waves licked lazily at the sand; the water contrastingly cold to the desert-like temperatures of the beach. A cool breeze accompanied the waves, providing a semblance of comfort as it danced with tall, sparse strands of wild grass.

You were seated on a sunbed, just beneath the dark shadow of an umbrella, enjoying the distant echoes of laughter from your squad. It was extremely uncommon for them to enjoy anything but the popular bar, 79s, on their days off. 

You had to bargain with the Jedi council for a solid half an hour before Master Windu had finally given you the nod of approval.

Now, Rex reaped the benefits of shore leave in the form of a nap in the sun. You had made sure to apply a kriff ton of sun cream onto his back and shoulders and neck before he had fallen asleep, a mumbled 'thank you' rolling off the tip of his tongue as his eyes became droopy.

He was severely sleep deprived; always being assigned to Skywalker's side rather than yours. It wasn't that he didn't like Master Skywalker, it's just his missions and plans were always reckless and exhausting, and they ended with a few too many casualties.

Of course, that was always inevitable, and Rex did his best not to linger on the fallen, but it didn't always come to him easily.

But with you, he could rest assured.

With you, he could relax under the warm sun, feel the burning sand, and enjoy the comfort of seaside waves.

His caring nature also ensured that everyone would be provided for whilst he was asleep. Bringing extra sun-cream, a cooler filled to the brim with water bottles and ice lollies, and extra towels as well as beach balls.

Where did he get the credits from?

Well, that was a code that nobody could decipher.

Nevertheless, there you were, relaxing with your beloved Captain. Fives had dragged most of the squad into the waves, insisting that they play volleyball. He had tried to take you too, but your reluctance and uncertainty deterred him. 

He had waved you off with a 'Watch me, General' and a wink before he engaged in a series of games of clumsy water volleyball.

Since they'd undergone ARC Trooper training, it became more uncommon for Echo and Fives to join the 501st on longer campaigns. 

Each time they were reunited, Fives would glance to Echo with a small smile. And now, he was busy wrestling with Hardcase in the shallow parts of the water, laughter escaping the two as Echo hit the ball into the air.

A series of hoorays and pats on the back erupted as the ball hit the water with a splash. 

One score for Echo's team.

You were content with watching from the side lines, if you remained far from the water.

If you still had your diary on you, you'd probably busy yourself writing down the details of this day, so the memory could continue to live on long after the war was over.

But just a few days prior it went missing. You thought you misplaced it and ransacked your entire quarters for it. By the time Rex had knocked on your door, nothing was in its' correct spot. Crumpled bedsheets, swinging closet doors and a chair in the middle of the room as you had searched under your desk.

He wanted to question your panicked state, but as soon as the words 'Mission' and 'Jedi Council' were said, you had put a halt to your search mission.

Rex hadn't tried to ask since.

But now, forced to sit by idly, you were mesmerised by the beauty of none other than Fives himself. He was an ARC Trooper for a reason. His shoulders were broad, his waist slim and his thighs - thick and strong and defined from hours of battle and constant training. His tan skin was wet with salty sweat and even saltier water, and if one were to squint hard enough, they could see droplets running down the side of his neck. 

You often found yourself feeling grateful to Jango Fett for having such fine genes.

As if reading your mind, Fives decided to stretch, and in the process flexed his biceps. How big were they?

Was it just you or did it get twenty degrees hotter?

His head slowly turned, and for a moment, you made eye contact. It was quick, but it was still enough to have your heart racing. A smirk stretched across his lips as he caught sight of your blooming blush.

The moment was cut short as Jesse splashed salty water right in his face. You didn't even get a chance to process the expression on his face, the water having wiped it away, as a surprised yelp escaped Fives.

His hand flew to his face, a guttural groan leaving his lips as he swore. His form was hunched over, his hand wiping at his eye.

Before you knew it, you were up and running towards the water, your sunbed abandoned and dusty in your wake.

"Fives?!"

His attention snapped to you at the sound of your voice.

A gasp left your lips.

His eye. The usually tawny skin surrounding his eye had now gained in darker colour, the area a faint red under the sunlight. Tiny, crimson vessels coated his sclera, reaching with thin, curly tendons towards his iris.

Just what was in that water? Surely it shouldn't be this bad.

Jesse was quick to utter apologies, his mouth cast into a downturned smile.

"Jesse it's fine," Fives insisted, "It's nothing." He continued, rubbing at his eye, the corners of his lips fighting an oncoming scowl. His attention quickly diverted from Jesse, focusing on you just as your feet reached the water.

Your body stuttered, your movements faltering as you glanced down at the waves.

Fives eyed you wearily, noticing the hesitation plastered all over your features.

But then in a flash, the water was already hitting your knees, lazily crashing against your waist as you progressed further. Goosebumps rose all over your body, visible under the blaring sun.

Your stomach twisted into a ball of thread, bile rising in your throat. You squeezed the water bottle and towel in your hands, then proceeded to raise your arms into the air like a cheering fan.

The water was now waist-deep, splashing against your torso and swaying your body back and forth.

Pieces of broken pebbles dug into the balls of your feet, and you had to supress the urge to scream when a floating piece of seaweed tickled at your ankles.

A small wheeze left your lips though, and as you reached Fives and looked up, you noticed the concerned expression on Jesse’s face. Was it for Fives or for you? You couldn’t quite tell.

"Let me see." You requested, placing your busy hands on top of Fives’ shoulders.

"General, I'm fine. It's just a bit of water." Fives winced as he attempted an eyeroll, his hands having wrapped around your wrists.

He failed to notice the brief flash of panic in your eyes or the tension in your jaw as the water splashed onto your chest.

"Just a bit of... Water?" You repeated, swallowing harshly. Tugging your hands from his hold, you looked back up at him. "You look like you’re on some hard spice, Trooper. We’ll get your eye rinsed; we don’t know just how safe the water is."

The men behind him had gone awfully quiet, Fives noted as he silently pleaded with you. His eyes searched yours, his head tilting just the slightest. He wasn't a fan of silence, at least not when it came from his squad mates. And he knew all to well that they were watching like hawks, supressing their laughter.

However, as you stood there looking up at him, he couldn’t help but allow his resolve to crumble just a tiny bit. Who could say no to those sweet puppy eyes? Maybe Echo. Most definitely not Fives.

"Alright, lead the way." He finally let up, heaving a sigh. His eye was stinging a bit too much and it’s not like he minded the extra attention from you.

A snicker left one of the men behind you, and Fives was quick to whip his head around, motioning for them to ‘zip it’.

"General?"

"Fives?" You pursed your lips as you looked up at him, though you didn't last long as your gaze faltered, focusing on your primary target, the sunbed. You wouldn’t be rinsing his eye on the sand; it was too hot, and it felt like walking on lava rocks.

“Is it that bad? Or did you just want me all for yourself?” He asked, nudging your side with his elbow.

Wordlessly, you pushed him onto your sunbed.

“Aggressive, I can work with that.”

“Shut it.” You laughed out, shaking your head.

By that point, Rex had slowly begun waking up, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

A confused hum left his lips as he noticed the state of your clothes. They were wet. Soaking wet, in fact.

"General?" His voice was deeper than normal, more guttural as he was recovering from his nap. "Why are you...Wet?"

“No reason, Captain.” You shrugged your shoulders with a wink.

Rex looked to Fives, giving him a confused look. He sat up in his sunbed, crossing his legs and rubbing his face. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

“First time? First time for what?”

“Oh? Didn’t you know? Our General- “

“Rex.” The way his name rolled off the tip of your tongue had shivers running down his spine. It carried authority and a warning, but the captain was feeling quite daring. His chest puffed up, his whole demeanour changing. This wasn’t your sweet Captain Rex, this was cheeky Cadet Rex, ready to tell the most embarrassing of stories to his brother.

He looked over to Fives, leaning back on his hands.

“Our General over here is terrified of water.” He mused, recalling a specific memory, “On one of our first missions together, we were sent to a swampy planet. The General had us all fooled at first,” He paused, snickering at the displeased expression on your face, “The second a frog swam by, she was screaming and jumping into my arms. Jesse almost blasted the poor thing to bits!”

“Rex!” You exclaimed, throwing the damp rug at him, “You promised not to tell anyone!”

Rex sputtered as the cloth hit him square in the face, launching it into the air in retaliation. “Fives isn’t just anyone! Am I right or am I right?”

Fives looked between the two of you, his brows raised in shock and his eye looking much better.

“General? I’m not just anyone, I’m your favourite ARC Trooper!” He shook his head, pressing a hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you!”

Before you could deny his words or assure him, Rex was already stood by you.

“See General? You hurt his feelings.”

“N- No I didn’t! Fives you are my favourite, just don’t tell anyone, alright?” You pleaded, attempting your best puppy eyes yet. Your attempts faltered as he shook his head, feigning a hurt look.

“I’m not sure, General. You’ll have to make it up to me somehow,” He paused, exchanging mysterious looks with Rex.

“How can I make it up to you?”

“Oh I don’t know.. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” He retorted, pouting at you. Sometimes you forgot just how childish the man could be. You clutched the empty water bottle in your hand, readying it as your next weapon for Rex.

Turning towards him, a fake scowl twisted your expression.

“Don’t look at me like that, General, it’s a waste of a pretty face.” He quickly said, shielding his face as you raised the water bottle. Before it could leave your hands voluntarily though, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“H- Huh?” A gasp left your lips as your body was swiftly rotated and slung over Fives’ shoulder like a sack of rations. That man really harboured more strength in those biceps than you knew. “Fives? What are you doing?”

“I’m having you repay me! Starting now!” He exclaimed and began moving. Rex moved to his side, keeping in step with Fives. Your eyes widened as the sunbed slowly moved further and further, becoming a distant promise of safety and comfort as salty waves made contact with Fives’ feet.

“Fives! L- Let me go! Please!” Your voice was reaching new peaks, rising higher and higher as you began kicking your legs. “I- I can’t swim!” You continued, lightly hitting his back.

His steps began to slow. You held your breath, leaning your head as far from the water as possible.

“You can’t swim? Are you serious or are you bullshitting me, General?” He asked, looking towards Rex, who only gave him a shrug of his shoulders.

“I promise! Please, please, please don’t go any further.” You pleaded once more, looking over to Rex too. Your hands were clasped together, as if you were praying to the two men. He exchanged glances with Fives, wordlessly communicating.

Rex looked over to you, pursing his lips.

“What’s holding y’guys up?” Hardcase shouted, coming closer and closer. “And since when did the General go into water that isn’t a part of her refresher?” He asked, coming to a stop with the three of you.

“Hardcase! You know I can’t swim! Help me, please!” You began kicking your feet again, leaning your head to the side. Your hands pushed against Fives’ back, attempting to heave yourself off.

His grip on you only tightened, and a squeak was forced from your chest as his palm squeezed your thigh.

“The General is a worse swimmer than me! At her level she isn’t even a swimmer, she’s a sinker!” He exclaimed, pointing to himself, Fives’ shoulders shook as a small laugh escaped him. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, setting your skin aflame.

“Fine, I’ll let you go, but only ‘cause I trust Hardcase.” His voice was gruff as he lifted your body, slowly placing you in the water. Goosebumps attacked your skin once more, but this time from the chilling cold that encased you. Looking up, Fives wore a grin that challenged that of the cheshire cat. “You should see yourself, General. You look like an angry loth cat.” He said, pinching your cheek with one hand as the other rested on your waist, his hold firm but gentle, his thumb caressing your waist in small, centred circles.

Swatting his hand away, you looked back down to the water. It rested just below your hips but would venture higher up as the waves moved back and forth.

“D’you wanna go further?” Fives asked, his voice much closer now. Looking around, you noticed that Rex and the others had moved further into the water, where it now reached their chests.

Shaking your head, you turned back to Fives. “I can’t swim, plus I don’t have the same height advantage as you,” You paused, pointing to the others, “I’d be under water where they are now.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, crows’ feet tugging at the outer corners of his eyes. Your hands rose to his chest, steadying yourself as a rogue wave lifted your feet off the ground.

“C’mon, you can sit on my shoulders? I’m sure the others would be more than happy to have you around.” He asked, giving your waist a faint squeeze.

You took a moment to think over his proposition. Sure, being on his shoulders would mean you get to, mostly, stay out of the water. But what if you fell off? You cringed at the thought of water invading your nose, burning your windpipe and choking you from the inside out.

“I- I don’t know…” You paused.

Slowly, you looked up, your breath hitching in your throat. He was already watching you, admiring the tiny expressions you made as you watched his brothers. There was this smitten look resting across his face, as if you were the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen.

His face was so close, his body slightly brushing against your own. His scent invaded your senses, so much so you could almost taste it on the tip of your tongue.

The sunlight reflected in his eyes, outlining the different shapes and shades as if you were looking into a kaleidoscope. His irises had this gorgeous colour of warm honey, and they sparkled like a pair of amber crystals under the soft sunrays.

His skin glowed under the warmth, the rich olive colour becoming tanner the longer he sat outside of his armour, making Fives look healthier and happier. All of the men, in fact. Though their armour kept them safe and sound, you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of them. They were in their zone.

Fives’ hand moved up to your face, his eyes concentrated on a stray piece of hair. The soft smile kept playing at his lips, never fully going but never fully staying.

There was a tension in his jaw, however, as his fingers toyed with your hair. It was like he was holding something back.

He moved the strand away, gently tucking it behind your ear, as best as it would go anyway.

“You’re gorgeous, cyar’ika.” His words came out as a whispered prayer, his gaze so tender and loving as he caressed your cheek with his knuckles.

It was as if your brain short-circuited again; his words dropped on you like a heavy boulder, so sudden, and yet your heartbeat was now racing a thousand miles per hour. Your breath was caught in your throat, and your mouth suddenly felt dry. Was this normal? Were you panicking or were you blushing? Were you going crazy? What was happening?

“F- Fives…” You whispered, your grip on his chest tightening. You never expected those words to come from him, or anyone at all. They weren’t meant for you. But if so, why did they make you so happy? So ecstatic and why did he make you swoon so hard?

He leaned his face a tad closer, just enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your lips.

You could feel his warmth, it was comparable to the sun itself. It rode in your veins, it had your blood bubbling up in excitement the longer he looked at you. You were just a small planet orbiting his sun, being pulled in closer and closer until all you could feel was the heat and the burn of him.

His tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, ridding it of dryness and discomfort.

But that small action had you going wild, feral even.

In that split moment, your gaze flickered to his lips. For a man who spent the majority of his life on a battlefield, his lips sure looked plump and made just for kissing.

It was like you were gravitating towards him, like a comet curve-balling around his planet, entangling around his soul and burning brightly at each twist and pull. His hold on you had your legs melting, as if you were nothing but a shard of ice, being thawed away at by his warm touch and sweetly whispered nothings.

His hand tilted your jaw, just enough for your lips to rest an inch from his. Any closer, and you’d be kissing, melting into one another.

Before either of you could do more, say more, the distant voice of Hardcase called out to you.

“Are you two comin’ or what?!” He shouted, cupping his mouth with both hands.

You jolted in your spot, effectively snapping out of whatever spell the man before you had cast on you. Clearly, he had been put under a spell too as his hands retracted and his posture stiffened.

“We’re on our way!” He shouted back, waving Hardcase off. His attention quickly returned to you, but the spell was now gone.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed it down with struggle.

Uncertainty and fear tugged at your heartstrings, and Fives knew exactly what that meant.

“G- General-“

“I need to go.” Your voice was meek and shallow as you retracted from his touch, as if he left your skin with painful burns and sears wherever his fingertips touched. “Alone.” You continued, placing a hesitant palm on his chest as Fives attempted to follow you.

This couldn’t be happening.

With your back turned to him and your figure disappearing into the distance, Fives couldn’t help but curse under his breath. His lips slightly agape, he stood in the same spot you left him in just moments ago.

How could he have ruined everything in such a short amount of time?

[thus-spoke-lo]

All You Had to Do Was Ask // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader

CW: modern AU; afab!reader [no pronouns used]; strip games; suggestive content WC: 2.7k A/N: I'm pleased to be able share the piece i created for @lovinglawzine! if you haven't had the chance to download it yet, please be sure to check out the 100% free SFW/OC/X-Reader and NSFW downloads - over 200 pages of incredible writing and gorgeous illustrations, all featuring Trafalgar Law getting the love he deserves!

Law observes you from the doorway of his tiny kitchen while he listens to the last drips of coffee splash into the pot. You fidget in place, sitting cross-legged on his living room floor amongst a sea of papers and books, your massive pharmacology textbook laid open to a heavily-highlighted page, multiple neon colors taking up almost every paragraph. He suppresses a grin, feels a blush rising in his cheeks as you chew on the end of your pen and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt—little quirks that have captivated him after watching you in class year after year, habits he’d grown particularly fond of after spending hours with you poring over quizzes and assignments in the library and chugging the last sips of burnt chain-store coffee while you work yourself into a tizzy over a mediocre grade.

There is something irresistibly charming to him about your passion and dedication to your schoolwork and your fits of worry over what would inevitably turn out to be nothing at all—after all, you’re in the top of your classes for good reason, Law right alongside you, jockeying for the highest marks. He fills two mugs with coffee and chuckles to himself at your needless anxiety; if you worry half as much about your future patients as you do about a missing half-point of extra credit or a misinterpreted question that led to a wrong answer, then you’ll end up a fine doctor indeed.

And now here you sit in his small apartment, deep in another tumult of concern over next week’s midterm, looking as adorably anxious as ever; he never means to minimize your very real worries over your own abilities, but it’s hard for Law to deny that your nervousness is at least a little bit endearing. You’d shown up a little while ago out of the blue, standing at his door with your backpack held tightly to your chest, grimacing as you implored him to help you study.  How could he possibly say no to you? Certainly not with the way you stood in his doorway, looking disheveled and harried, gazing up at him with pleading eyes through the fall of your lashes, biting your lower lip in anticipation of his answer. Who was he to deny you his time when you vibrated with a nervous energy that he knew he could sooth with honeyed words of reassurance and a warm beverage? No, Law has never been able to say no to you, not since the first class you’d shared where you rushed to the first empty seat you spotted and quietly asked if you could sit beside him; he’d barely acknowledged you with a grunt, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead, but felt a warmth spread through him every time he’d glance at you out of the corner of his eye and catch your gaze.

Law passes your mug to you, his body stiffening as your fingers brush his, and plunks his lanky body down across from you on the floor, avoiding the carefully-placed stacks of papers that separate you. Something stirs in him as you nod sweetly in appreciation before pulling your legs up to your chest and taking a few slow, careful sips of your coffee. He wonders if you ever feel that stirring too—that tingling at the base of his spine that makes it hard not to lean in and kiss you just to sweetly cease your worried ramblings, that warmth in his core that makes him stop just short of settling his hand in your thigh in class and letting his fingers explore the expanse of bare skin that spreads out from under your skirts. You must feel it too—he’s seen the way your glances longer just a little too long when you think he isn’t looking, how you eye his copious tattoos when he leaves his shirt unbuttoned just a little lower than usual or rolls his shirtsleeves up on a hot day. You must feel it too, he reasons—why else would you smile at him in that way that feels like it’s meant only for him?

One day he’ll tell you, Law assures himself day after day—he’ll tell you just how much you mean to him, how these years in this program have been made more bearable by having you around. He’ll tell you how he wishes you’d come by for more than just study sessions and free coffee, how he knows just how good his hands would feel around your waist, his lips pressed to yours in the cold, dark quiet of his bedroom. But Law is, above all else, a methodical man, and his careful planning and good intentions were getting him nowhere with you—unending thoughts of precisely how to confess to you only work if he actually intends to act on them. All his years of painstaking preparations seem to be unraveling day by day, replaced by a restlessness in his bones, an eagerness to know you as more than just a friend—and an uncharacteristic impulsiveness that he is no longer certain he can repress.

“Thanks for this,” you finally mutter, setting your cup on the low table beside you. “Not just the coffee—for all of this, I mean. I know I sort of showed up out of nowhere, but I was in the neighborhood. I guess I could have texted first, but I just—”

“It’s okay, really. I don’t mind that you’re here.” Law reaches out and places his hand on top of yours, gently stroking the inside of your wrist with his thumb to slow your frantic chatter. His boldness startles him a little, the ease with which he touches you on a whim feeling at once unnatural and comfortable, like he’s meant to feel your softness beneath his fingertips.

Your lips part as if to speak, but instead you simply stare down at his hand for a moment, a soft squeak tumbling out of you, before retracting your arm and placing it in your lap. “I—well, that’s good, then.”

He can still feel you on him, feel the bones of your wrist and the smoothness of your skin, feel the way your pulse raced under the gentle grip of his fingers. It’s like he imagined it would be, warm and perfect, and he quickly clears his throat before he loses himself in thoughts of how the rest of you would feel under his tattooed fingers.

“You know, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he says reassuringly as he starts to grab a stack of paper. “You always worry, and then you do just fine.”

“Only because you help me.” You flip through your textbook absentmindedly, seeming to be actively avoiding his stare. “You make the best study materials.”

Law feels a warmth spreading through his chest that extends out to his limbs, heat pooling in his core—the same one that always ignites when you sit just a little too close, let your hand stay just a little too long on his shoulder when you shuffle behind his seat in class to reach yours. He stills himself and inhales deeply—an idea begins to simmer in his mind, and the longer he sits, and the longer he lets uncertainty linger between you, the more and more it builds until it boils over and he finds himself blurting out a question he’s only half-prepared to know the answer to.

“Hey—what if we played a little game?”

You glance up from your textbook and raise a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Law runs through scenarios in his mind, all his careful planning suddenly useless as he quickly settles on an idea. “I was just thinking—sometimes it helps to have some distractions when you’re studying, you know? Something to take your mind off the anxiety.”

“Okay, and what exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well, I’ll quiz you from these study guides you made. And for every five questions you get right”—he pauses, touching his tongue to the corner of his mouth—“l’ll take something off.”

“Law!” Your eyes grow wide and your jaw slack, an astonished huff leaving your lungs.

“What?” A subtle smile quirks up the corners of his mouth as his eyes roam over your features; you look surprised, perhaps a little embarrassed—but not offended. “You don’t think an incentive could help?”

“And what if I get it wrong?”

“Well,” he purrs, cocking his head, riding a sudden high of confidence, “for every one you get wrong, then you take something off for me.”

He eyes you as you swallow hard and chew on your lower lip—you’re going to say no. You’re going to say no, despite how smooth he made his offer, despite how desperate you are for his help, and he won’t blame you if you do. You’ll never trust him again, he’s ruined everything, he never should have—

“Okay. Let’s do it.” You stare at him with jaw set, eyes wide, chest heaving a little under your shirt. A tight-lipped smile stretches across your lips, and your posture stiffens. “I’m game.”

Law nearly chokes on a relieved sigh, and his pulse races as he grips the study guide. He runs his thumbs over the smooth paper and wonders just how far you’ll let him go, just how far his little game will take you—and there’s only one way to find out. His eyes scan the first set of questions, and his stomach drops: there’s no way you won’t know the answers. You’re too quick to answer in class, and you’ve clearly pored over every page in your textbook with its copious color-coded highlighting. He takes a deep breath and wonders how quickly he’ll end up losing his shirt—or more.

As he had suspected, the first question is no sooner past his lips before you’re blurting out the correct answer; he nods, muttering “you got it,” and continuing. He lobs questions at you, one after another, and you answer each with ease—all correct, five in a row. Law tries to keep moving, continuing with his rapid-fire pacing, but you stop him, the beginnings of a wry smile on your lips.

“Now, now,” you tease, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Right.” He quickly unzips his hoodie and tosses it behind him, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, suddenly feeling more exposed than anticipated. Law feels a heat rising in his cheeks as he catches your gaze landing on his tattooed forearms, your eyes darting over his skin.

He launches another barrage of questions at you, even more difficult than the last, but you make quick work of them—another five in a row.

Shit.

He removes his socks next, despite your insistence that this is cheating, and continues. You get another five right, and as he prepares to be stripped of his pants and possibly his dignity next, when he quickly responds, “Nope. The answer was B.”

“What? That’s bullshit!” You lean forward, brows furrowed and mouth agape, trying to snatch the paper from his hands. “I know that can’t be right, we just went over it in class last week!”

He sits back just enough so only your fingertips graze the paper, suppressing a depraved grin. “That’s what it says here. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You sit back and run your tongue along your teeth, your eyes narrowed at him, and for a moment, Law thinks that you may have seen through his ruse—or, at the very least, that you’re going to end his little game. But instead, you strip your sweatshirt over your head and toss it to the side, leaving your torso covered in a thin tank top, and Law’s pulse quickens at the sight of your bare skin.

“Alright, go ahead,” you shrug, a look somewhere between annoyance and self-assurance settling on your face, “quiz me again.”

Law lets you enjoy a few more right answers—you truly do know this subject well—before he fabricates another wrong response. This time you don’t protest, only huff a sigh through your nose and stand, shimmying out of your jeans; he catches a glimpse of your panties before you quickly sit back down and cover your lap with your sweatshirt. It feels a little wrong to be doing this to you, to take advantage of your trust and your reliance on him as your friend and study partner, but the guilt is slowly being erased by an insatiable hunger. He wants more, wants to see you bare before him, a display meant only for him. What he’ll do with you once you’re exposed, that he doesn’t know; all he knows for sure is that he close, so very, very close, to having you in front of him the way he’s dreamed of for so long.

A few more right answers pass, and he lets you reach five again—despite the fever that grips him, he knows you’re too damned smart not to get suspicious, assuming you aren’t already. And so he lets you have a win and he slowly, teasingly, takes off his shirt—letting you see a full glimpse of the tattoos that cover his torso.

“See something you like?” he grins, stretching his sinewy arms above his head to allow you an unobstructed view.

“What? No! I mean—t-they’re just cool is all,” you stammer.

Law’s cheeks burn at the feeling of being objectified by you, immersed in the sensation of being desired as much as he desires. It’s cute how you protest, how even now as he lets you see what you clearly have wanted to see, that you try to keep your eyes focused on anything but him—and fail over and over again. He finds it harder to want to keep quizzing you, wanting more than anything to toss the booklet aside and push you down against the floor, to make a mess of your books and papers and give in to the years of yearning and

Finally, he continues—he lets only one right answer pass this time before he corrects you, the need to see more of you becoming overwhelming. You slowly strip your tank top off, tossing it at his head when you’re done, giggling softly as he pulls it away from his face. Law watches as you sit back on the heels of your palms and shift so your sweatshirt falls out of your lap; he suppresses a moan as you bend your knees and let your legs loll to the side, exposing the thin strip of cotton fabric that separates his eyes from your center.

“Law, what are you doing?” you ask, head tilted to one side, a coy smile on your lips.

He manages to tear his leering gaze away from the apex of your thighs, and his pulse races at the look on your face—you look nearly as ravenous as he feels. “W-what are you talking about?”

“You know damn well I didn’t get those answers wrong.”

“Is that so?”

“What are you playing at, anyway?” You feign a pout. “Thought you wanted to help me, Law.”

“I did—and I do—I just—”

“Just what?”

You crawl across the floor to him, yanking the study guide out of his hand and tossing it to the side. Breathing feels impossible and his heart thrums away in his ribcage as you straddle his lap and press against his pelvis; a soft gasp leaves his lungs, his excitement becoming difficult to mask as he strains against the fabric of his jeans at the feeling of your heat against him. You grasp his arms and place his trembling hands on your hips, then drape your arms over his shoulders, wriggling as you settle yourself on top of him; it’s everything he wanted, everything he needed, and it’s happening so quickly that no amount of meticulousness, no amount of preparation could prepare him for the way you so nonchalantly take control. Law’s breath hitches in his throat—you’re close, so close, your lips nearly grazing his as you lean in and press your heated cheek against the side of his face. He can almost taste you, almost feel you melting into him, almost feel your heart racing against him matching the speed of his own.

“If you wanted to see me naked,” you whisper in his ear, warm breath spreading across his skin, “all you had to do was ask.”

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part thirty] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of menstruation, pain, smut (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: face sitting, protected sex, multiple orgasms

That night, Jisung took you to a pharmacy that was right by the resort. It was within walking distance but since you had a bad foot, you took a cab. He tipped the driver extra to leave the meter running and stay parked outside while you ran in together to grab what you needed, and then tipped him again when you made it back to the hotel since the whole journey was more of an inconvenience than an actual ride. 

After taking a shower, you soaked your foot like Amir had instructed you to and then fell asleep almost immediately. Surfing had completely sapped you of all of your energy, even without the whole sea urchin incident. 

Everything hurt when you woke up. It felt similar to the morning after having sex with Minho for the first time but ten times worse. You groaned as you rolled over, the sound splintering off into a whimper when you tried sitting up. 

“Quiet, they’re going to think we’re messing around in here,” Jisung said, shushing you. You’d woken him up with your noises. 

“Can’t help it,” you grumbled back. 

“Sore?” he asked. 

“Incredibly.”

“It’s brutal after your first time.”

“I’ve gathered that.”

“I’ll grab you some ibuprofen and a glass of water.”

“Thank you.”

-

The morning was spent lazily. Jisung made breakfast for everyone and you all ate together in the kitchen, listening to Dom explain the concept of the new book he was writing. You couldn’t really follow the plot but you still nodded along like you did and let the boys do all of the question asking. 

After breakfast, everyone got ready for the day and met in the lobby where you were picked up by a cab and taken to a marina. Jisung had told you that you would be snorkeling most of the day, but you hadn’t expected it to be deep sea snorkeling. The idea was a bit daunting but it turned out that it wasn’t actually as deep as the name suggested. The water was clear enough to see everything and the ocean floor was only about thirty feet below you. 

The captain of the boat you’d taken out to this spot had assured you that the area was shallow and full of marine life.

“We just like to take visitors out here because it’s less busy than right by the shore,” he said. 

Obviously, the man knew what he was talking about. The snorkeling was one of the highlights of the entire trip thus far for you. You had never seen so many fish in one place before, or coral for that matter. Everything was so vibrant that it felt right out of a page of NatGeo. It was nice just to be able to relax and let the water carry your body weight as you floated on the surface, especially since you were still so sore. You barely had to move at all. It was so peaceful that you almost fell asleep in the water. 

The only thing that startled you out of your half-asleep daze was Minho purposefully splashing you as he swam past you. 

You broke the news of your newfound dedication to celibacy to him once you got back to the resort that night. You’d stayed up to finish a movie with him after everyone else had gone to sleep and he’d invited you back to his room as soon as the credits rolled. 

“I just can’t keep going behind Jisung’s back,” you explained. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” he replied. You could tell he was disappointed but was trying not to let it show. You were disappointed too. You’d only slept with him twice but it was some of the best sex of your fucking life and you didn’t want to just throw that away. “Any reason to want to stop is reason enough, and it’s not my business,” he added. 

“It kind of is, though,” you reasoned with a sigh. He just shrugged. “I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Thanks for being honest.” He stood from the couch unceremoniously and turned back to you. “Uh, goodnight, I guess.”

You didn’t respond right away, taking a moment to admire the way the light from the television illuminated his features. 

“Goodnight, Minho.” 

You cringed inwardly at how weak you sounded, forcing a polite smile. The second his back was turned you started rethinking everything. Were you really going to let him just walk away?

“Wait-” you called out after him. “One more time couldn’t hurt, right?”

-

Your back hit the mattress as soon as the door shut behind you, Minho having pushed you onto his bed at the same time. You bounced a little, giggling as he jumped on top of you. He moved his way up your body until he was able to kiss you, sliding a hand under your head to lift you up to him. You kissed him back eagerly, slipping your tongue into his mouth as soon as the chance presented itself. Minho moaned quietly and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer. 

“We have to be quiet,” he reminded you after breaking away from the kiss. “Felix is right next door.”

You nodded. “I can be quiet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Mhm, you’ll just have to find something to keep my mouth busy.”

“Fuck.”

He began undressing you slowly, taking his time with you like you knew he liked to do. You were already in your pajamas so everything came off easily. Your t-shirt, your stolen boxer shorts that Minho had probably once thought to be his brother’s, your panties. You were lying naked underneath him in no time.

“I’m off my period, by the way,” you added. 

“You know I don’t care about that.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d want to know… just in case.”

He narrowed his eyes, not following. “Just in case… of what?”

You sighed and flung your arms to the side dramatically. “Oh my god, are you really going to make me spell it out for you?”

“Spell out what?” he hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I already told you I don’t care about whether you’re on your period or not.”

“Okay, but there are certain things you can’t do on your period.”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. He really was hopeless. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was actually oblivious or being obtuse on purpose. You had been under the impression that Minho liked eating pussy but maybe he had just been pretending to enjoy it for your benefit. 

“Do you want to go down on me or not?”

His eyes widened in realization and he nodded eagerly. “Oh, you should’ve just said that.”

“I was trying to!”

“You kept skirting around it!” he argued. 

“I didn’t want to say it outright…” you trailed off. 

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” He was teasing you and you knew it.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m not used to asking for what I want.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you on the mouth as he answered. “Well, you’d better get used to it.”

You were tempted to tell him it was pointless since this was the last time you were going to sleep together but you didn’t want to bring the mood down so you just nodded into the kiss and tried your best to forget about the depressing reality. 

He broke away again, this time to take off his own clothes. You watched him pull his shirt over his head, bottom lip between your teeth as your gaze trailed the defined lines of his body. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and touch him. Your fingers followed the same path as your eyes had and Minho shivered beneath your touch. You expected him to quip back with something smart, something to defuse the sincerity in your voice, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed his hips forward so that he could grind against you. 

A moan caught in your throat and you arched your back, meeting him halfway. The fabric felt good on your clit and the motion of his hips created the friction you had been searching for but you were worried about staining the material. You were already turned on, and your arousal was only building as Minho kissed his way down your neck. You would be mortified if there was a noticeable wet spot on the front of his pants when he pulled away. 

For Minho, though, that seemed to be the last thing on his mind. His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize each and every curve, like he was an artist, committing your figure to memory so that he could sketch it in graphite once you left his bed. 

“Did you want me to?” he asked suddenly. 

“Want you to what?”

“Eat you out?”

You shifted a bit on the bed, shy all of the sudden. “Um, only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to, but I wanted to make sure you wanted me to.”

“I don’t know any girl who would turn that down,” you said, half chuckling, then rushed to add, “well there are some people who don’t like it, or prefer other things over it, you know? Or can’t enjoy it because they’re insecure and I mean, I’m not one of those people but-” 

“Baby,” Minho cut you off. “A simple yes or no is all I need.”

“Yes. Please.”

Minho grinned and leaned back in to kiss you. “You’re cute.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue so you just pouted as you accepted the kiss. Minho groaned into your mouth, hands coming down to cup your breasts. His thumbs ran over your nipples making you gasp. You got lost in each other for a moment, original goal forgotten until Minho began kissing his way down your neck. He replaced one of the hands on your boobs with his mouth, tongue laving over your nipple just like it would your clit. 

You didn’t want to rush him but you were also beginning to feel desperate so you brought a hand to his hair, running your fingers through it before pushing down lightly, trying to signal what you needed. The salt water had left his hair more tousled than usual, leaving it just long enough to fall into his eyes. Even after a shower, it was more wavy than anything. You thought it suited him. Then again, you thought everything suited him. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Minho finally spoke. 

“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbled against your skin. “Please?”

You sat up a bit, unsure you’d heard him correctly. “Are you serious?”

“Are you going to make me beg?” he asked, not answering the question. 

“No, I just… no one’s ever asked me to do that before.”

Minho seemed surprised, likely due to his knowledge of your sexual experience. “Really?”

You nodded. “The guys I usually go for aren’t very-”

“Good in bed?” he supplied.

“Well, yeah. And I’m usually the one asking the girls, so…”

A smirk passed over his face briefly as he processed the information before his expression fell into one of concern again. “Don’t feel like you have to do it just because I want to.”

“No, I know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“We can stop whenever you want. Just let me know.”

You shook your head and exhaled. “Okay. How should I…”

Minho rolled off of you and onto his back so that you could position yourself on top of him. He helped you straddle his face, big hands rubbing soothing circles on each of your thighs. 

“Just so you know, my entire body still feels like jelly from surfing so you’re going to have to do all of the work.”

“I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

Minho scoffed as if he was offended you’d even ask. “Positive. Do you think I’m weak?”

“N-no! I just-”

“I’ve got you, okay?”

You gulped. “Okay.”

“And that means don’t hover. When I say sit on my face I mean sit. You won’t crush me, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

It was like he could read your mind. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you whispered in response. 

He coaxed you into lowering yourself little by little until you were close enough for him to taste. You balanced your weight on your knees, still not confident enough to fully rest on him despite his words. 

But Minho ended up getting his way in the end because as soon as his tongue touched your pussy, you were suddenly unable to hold yourself upright. You were barely two seconds in and your legs gave out on you, just like you predicted. You weren’t sure why you even tried to ‘hover’ in the first place. 

You tried to soften the fall by throwing yourself forward so that at least the top half of your body weight wouldn’t come crashing down on his face but he caught you before your hands hit the mattress and pulled you back on top of him. 

“I said not to hover.” It was muffled but you could still make it out. 

After that, it was a blur. You couldn’t even worry about whether or not you were suffocating Minho. All you could think about was how fucking good his mouth felt on your cunt. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you whimpered, still trying to keep your voice down. 

Minho could only hum in affirmation but you were sure he would’ve had a thousand cocky lines on the tip of his tongue had the tip of his tongue not been inside of you.  

You came hard with a quiet yelp of his name, thighs clenching around his head. He helped you through your orgasm as always, trying to make it as long as possible by encouraging you to ride his face. 

You collapsed on the bed as soon as the aftershocks ebbed away, clutching your chest as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Minho complimented.  

“It… was… hot for me… too.”

He chuckled lightheartedly and reached for his crumpled t-shirt that he’d set against one of the pillows, using it to wipe his mouth and chin before dropping it on the floor. You made a face and he just shrugged, same stupid grin on his face.

“I’m going to wash it.”

You sighed. “I know, just…”

“Figured you wouldn’t want me dripping when I kissed you.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I? I think the stain on my pants would say otherwise.”

You didn’t even have time to be mortified because Minho was pressing his lips to yours, effectively erasing whatever you had been about to say from your mind. It was exactly what you’d been afraid of happening but he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to be even more aroused by it. You could feel how hard he was through his sweats as he rocked his hips against yours, all because of you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed about it,” he murmured. 

“How did you-”

“Because I know you. And I know you overthink everything. But I think it’s hot, I promise.”

You whined in response, not used to hearing sweet words in bed. His eyes softened as he gazed at you. They were still dark with lust but you could see flecks of fondness peeking through the desire. It made you remember what he said the first time you hooked up. 

Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?

“I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it,” he added with a peck to your nose. “Are you good to keep going?”

You nodded. “Yes, please. Need you.”

“I can tell.”

He was back to teasing you like nothing had happened which was oddly more comfortable. The sincerity of his words had scared you a little, reignited feelings you’d rather not address. It was already hard enough to repress them in intimate moments like these. The thought of Minho actually caring about you was more than you could handle. 

“Let me grab a condom,” he mumbled, leaning towards the dresser. 

He rifled through the top drawer for one and then shimmied out of his pants and underwear. You laid there motionless as you waited for him to roll one on, still a little out of it from cumming so hard the first time. 

“You’re really going to have to do all of the work this time,” you told him. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Not a problem,” he replied with a wink. “Do you want my fingers first?”

You considered it for a second. You did love his fingers but it was getting late and you both needed to get up relatively early in the morning. And you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t getting impatient for his dick. 

“No, just go slow.”

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to.”

You winced as he pushed himself inside of you, hissing through your teeth at the stretch. It wasn’t bad, just a bit overwhelming, but Minho took your reaction as one of pain. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” he grunted. “Should I stop?”

You shook your head. “Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please keep going.”

He brought one of his hands down to where you were connected and began to rub your clit with his thumb to distract you from the slight discomfort. Soon, all of the feelings bled into pleasure, indistinguishable from each other, and you started pushing your hips up, weakly fucking yourself on Minho’s cock. 

“Needy all of the sudden, aren’t we?” he mused. 

“Always needy for you,” you moaned back.

You swore you could feel him twitching inside of you as he cursed. “Want me to move?”

“Please…”

He matched your pace in no time, fully taking over for you just like you’d wanted him to. He kept one hand on the headboard, half to keep his balance, half to keep it from banging against the wall. The other hand had moved from your clit to your face, where he was stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

It was different than the other times you’d slept together. He was fucking you slow and deep, each thrust making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Fuck, how are you always so tight?” he asked. 

You were too fucked out to answer. He didn’t seem to mind. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed before he stopped suddenly, telling you to hold on for just as a second as he grabbed a pillow from behind you. 

“Does that actually work?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows so that he could position it under your lower back. 

“I’ve read great reviews.” He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. “Lay back down. How’s that?” He gave an experimental thrust, smiling cockily when your jaw went slack and your mouth fell open. 

The change in angle allowed the head of his cock to rest against your g-spot, meaning whenever he moved he was hitting it dead-on. every. time. 

“Minho, fuck!” you cried. 

“Baby,” he warned. 

You moaned again and he immediately shushed you. “What did I say about being quiet?” he growled. 

“I t-told you that you’d have to figure out a way to make me,” you choked out. 

Minho must have taken that as a challenge because as soon as you got the words out he was shoving two fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them. You moaned around them. 

“That’s it, darling. Better?”

You nodded to the best of your ability. You wanted to tell Minho how hot he looked, how good he made you feel, how close you were to cumming but you couldn’t do any of that. To be fair, you doubted you’d be able to string a sentence together even if his fingers weren’t in your mouth. 

“‘M close,” he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. You weren’t sure why. He’d lasted a lot longer than a lot of your other partners. If anything it was impressive.

You tried mumbling out a me too but it was difficult with your mouth full. He seemed to get the idea, though and motioned for you to rub your clit to help you get there. 

Minho came first, muffling a shout by biting your shoulder. You wished you could see his face, he was always so pretty when he came, but the sting from the bite was enough to throw you into your own orgasm. 

Afterward, when you had both stopped trembling and regained enough muscle strength to move, Minho helped you get redressed. He instructed you to raise your arms above your head so that he could pull your shirt back on, laughing with you when your head got stuck. 

You found yourself wishing that you could spend the night with him. It would be so nice to be able to fall asleep in his arms, to wake up next to him. You knew you couldn’t. It was just wishful thinking. You weren’t even sure if he wanted the same thing. You had always assumed that this was just sex to him, but his behavior towards you had made you start to think otherwise. 

“You should shower,” Minho said softly, breaking the silence. He was suddenly unable to meet your gaze and you didn’t want to think about what that meant. “Got you all sweaty.”

“What about you?” you asked.  

“I’ll go after you. We probably shouldn’t…” he trailed off. “Not that I don’t want to-”

“No, I get it,” you said. “Goodnight, Minho.”

i'm on my laptop tn so no taglist but pls lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

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[thestoryofella]

rainy day

summary: you are terribly unprepared for the weather, luckily your neighbor is dressed for a flood.

warnings: fluff, swearing

steve harrington x reader ✿ 976 words

There was nothing more soothing to you than the gentle patter of rain, splashing onto your bedroom window, a stream of light filling your room with the sunrise. So, when you woke up to a mist of rain spraying through your opened bedroom window, you knew it was a good day.

You got ready in a hurry, quickly throwing on clothes suitable for the weather, brushing through your hair, and practically running to the front door to slip on your shoes and grab an umbrella. It wasn’t until you tried to open your only umbrella on the front porch that you realized maybe today wasn’t going to be a good day.

“Well, fuck,” you muttered, the umbrella springs weakly flopping back down after you attempted to shove it open. You love observing the rain, being around it, not being drenched with it. From the looks of the outdoors, you were going to get drenched without an umbrella.

Looking from under the roof of your porch revealed an absolute downpour of rain. The rain came down torrentially, sliding off your roof visually similar to a waterfall rather than singular droplets. Given that your raincoat from last season didn’t fit anymore, and your umbrella decided to shrivel back up on itself, you were screwed.

Bracing yourself, you stepped out from the protection of the roof, immediately being hit by heavy water droplets. Living only half a mile from Hawkins High School was usually great until it meant you lived too close to be a part of the bus system. Today, you despised your proximity to the school.

Walking as quickly as you could manage, you marched through puddles of water that were practically ponds due to the uneven road, quickly feeling the weight of water as it soaked through your normally warm sweater.

You only managed to make it one block before hearing the voice of your only other classmate who had to walk to Hawkins too: Steve Harrington. He jogged up to you in an outfit that sent deep waves of jealousy through your soul. He looked uncharacteristically nerdy as he was readily equipped with rain boots, a rain jacket, and an umbrella. I wonder if he’s even found waterproof hairspray for the weather, you accidentally let out a small snort at that last thought.

Steve was nice, nicer than you expected him to be given his popularity and seemingly exclusive friend group. Despite the fact that you two never talked outside of school, you’d developed a relationship as friendly acquaintances due to your close living proximity and shared understanding of just how shitty walking to school every morning was.

When he meets you, Steve gapes. His eyebrows raise so incredulously that they almost meet his scalp. “Y/N! Did you forget your umbrella?” His breath fills the air with small, quick puffs of clouds, coming out in quick pants after running to catch up with you.

Continuing your pace, not wishing to be out in the rain for any longer than necessary, you and Steve fall step in step making your way toward school. Recalling the events of your morning, you gain a new twinge of frustration in your heart but nod nonetheless. A small frown sets in on your face, “something similar to that. It just wouldn’t open this morning no matter how hard I pushed upwards.”

“Gosh, I hate it when that happens,” he huffs out. “You know the last time we had rain like this, the same thing happened to me,” he gestures to his outfit, with his hand on his hip, “hence why I’m wearing this.”

You let out a small laugh, tossing your head back a little, after observing the ridiculousness of his outfit for the second time this morning. His rain boots look extra silly as you walk on the evenly paved main road, barely even submerging into any water as it readily went down the storm drains. “You know, I was wondering why you had so much rain gear on,” you laugh.

He looks up at you, and a look of embarrassment spreads across his face, a slight pink dusting his cheeks. He has to fight the urge to facepalm himself when he notices your rain-soaked hair. Here he was in every item of rain gear he could ever need while the rain pelted your clothes, gradually lengthening your sweater as the weight of the rain pushed it down your torso.

Without a word, he moved his umbrella to cover both of your bodies and the immediate coverage from the rain was relieving. However, you couldn’t tell if the warmth came from the end of the torrential rain pelting your clothes, Steve’s warm shoulder brushing up against yours, or the heat that crept up your face because of his thoughtful actions.

“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, slightly embarrassed accepting a thoughtful gesture. You’d always struggled with that.

“I figured I should put you out of your misery,” Steve laughed, his brown eyes and cheeks crinkling as a smile overtook his face. You two walked shoulder to shoulder as Steve made an effort to stay close enough to cover the two of you, although his raincoat would probably have him covered.

Walking shoulder to shoulder, you two gradually made it to Hawkins High School, mostly in comfortable silence as you enjoyed the sound of the rain, the tweets of morning birds, and the rustling leaves on overhanging green trees.

When you reached the school, you were filled with a comfortable warmth that you weren’t sure was from the relief of the umbrella or your thoughtful savior who was comically overdressed for a rain storm.

“See you around neighbor,” Steve waved in his oversized raincoat, a few droplets shaking off from the action, with a newfound twinkle in his eye you hadn’t noticed early this morning.

“Have a good one, Steve.”

[thescarletnargacuga]

I REALLY want to a showtime fic where Pomni and Caine are overly sweet and corny with eachother and it sickens Jax so much that he devises a plan to try to break them up

Ps I turn 17 today! :3

A/N: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY! This has Lion King 1 1/2 vibes lol

OPERATION BREAKUP

A SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: cartoon slapstick

~~~

Caine and Pomni flew through the carnival grounds arm in arm. She held a large plush from a game and he fed her some of his cotton candy. They were spending the whole day together having fun with games and rides and digital junk food. They talked and laughed and we're having the best time completely lost in each other. So much so that they didn't see the two members of the circus spaying on them

"Ugh, what a disgusting display." Jax steered from behind a hotdog stand.

"You mean because they finally found each other like two soulmates across the digital threshold by the bonds of true love?" Kinger answered as he clasped his hands together in a swoon. He was genuinely happy for Caine and Pomni, their relationship was so endearing. "Kind of reminds me of me and-"

Jax almost threw up in his mouth. "Yeah, yeah, yeah nobody cares. Let's break up this party."

"Really? Why?"

"Because it would be funny. Plus, their constant goo-goo eyes at one another is making me lose what little appetite I have in this world. It's annoying." Jax rubbed his chin in contemplation of what to use for this little operation.

"Or....we could mind our own business?" Kinger suggested softly.

"Where's the fun in that?" Jax's grin took up the entire lower half of his face.

Kinger paused, then shrugged. "Got me there. What do we do?"

"Follow my lead."

~

Jax's first attempt is dumping an entire barrel of blue raspberry slush on the couple as they pass under the awning of a game tent. He and Kinger balance it precariously at the top, only to lose it a moment too early and slush splashes down right in front of the targets.

Pomni is too stunned over the sudden appearance of the down pour to think about looking up. Caine picks Pomni up and floats her over the slushy mess.

"My hero." She giggles as he puts her back down, beaming with pride. Caine had to have been the one to do that to give him an excuse to carry her, she rationalized.

Jax grunted and climbed down for his next idea

~

Caine and Pomni took a break on a bench, enjoying the ambiance of the carnival. Caine had his arm over the back of the bench, Pomni leaning into him.

Jax had two bouncy ball yo-yos. If he could get them to bounce right, he'd hit them both in the head. The yo-yos wrap around whatever they touch. Knowing Kinger wouldn't be able to pull this off, Jax swung and released both yo-yos himself at the same time.

However, this was a mistake. The yo-yo balls collided and bounced wildly. One came right back at Jax and knocked him in the teeth. It wrapped around his head and ears as he fell backwards to the ground.

The other bouncing yo-yo zipped over Caine's head and tangled it's string between a digital tree and a tent pole. The extra long string kept going in a spiderweb-like pattern until it made a heart in the center. The couple didn't even notice it this time, dreamily gazing into each other's eyes.

"Aw, that's so romantic." Kinger swooned.

Jax growled from behind the string wrapped around his face.

~

Jax tried something more direct. He got a handful of darts from a balloon popping game and threw one at Pomni as she and Caine were getting on the ferris wheel.

It stuck Pomni in the hand. "Ow!"

Caine plucked the dart from the back of her hand and kissed it. "Sorry about that. These collision physics make assets do the weirdest things." He flings the dart back where it came from and continues to hold her hand as he helps her step into the ferris wheel gondola.

Jax was hit in the ear. He started to scream but Kinger covered his mouth to keep him from being heard.

~

Jax wasn't messing around anymore. He got an animal crate full of gloinks and pointed at the farris wheel. "Tear that thing apart!"

Kinger figured with his hands. "Uh...Jax, I don't think messing with those things is a good idea." He slid back behind a concession counter.

"These things love to destroy stuff. This'll work." He unlocked the crate.

"They don't destroy things, they-"

The gloinks rolled out of the crate and looked around until they saw Jax. Then started after him. "Woah, what are they- hey! No! Not me, you dumb shapes!!" Jax ran as half a dozen gloinks pursued.

"They collect things, like people..." Kinger finished quietly as he hid from the gloinks.

~

Jax eventually got away from the gloinks, angrier than ever. "Screw all of this. I'll tear down that ferris wheel myself." He stormed into the tent with a sign out in front that said: FIREWORKS.

Kinger stayed out of it this time. He was comfortable in his hiding spot and watched the couple going around on the ferris wheel.

Jax shuffled around the big boxes of colorfully labeled explosives, looking for the biggest ones. He found what he was after. One firework in particular was as tall as him and twice as thick. It looked like an actual rocket. Jax chuckled to himself, "Perfect."

He tried leaning it over to aim it at the ferris wheel, but it was much heavier than he anticipated. It fell and pinned him to a stacks of boxes. "Crap! Errgh!" His struggle knocked over a smaller box labeled MATCHES. The box spilled open and several matches struck. One of them caught the fuse of the giant firework.

Jax's ears went straight up as he heard the fizz of the fuse. He struggled harder to get free, knocking over even more boxes and spilling fireworks everywhere.

Kinger heard the fireworks before he saw them. Small bottle rockets and Roman candles sparked and flew out of the tent. In a rush of fire and smoke, the entire tent took off from the ground. Kinger could just faintly hear Jax screaming over the whistling of the fireworks as the tent spiraled into the air.

At its peak, the tent exploded in a massive grand finale show of fireworks. Caine held Pomni close as they oo'd and awed at the unexpected show.

In the colorful chaos, no one saw the charred black figure falling out of the sky in a trail of smoke. Jax crashed through the top of the concession tent Kinger was hiding in and fell right next to him with a heavy thud.

~

Jax sat up, the tip of one of his ears still on fire. "Well, that worked like a dream."

"It did?"

Jax gave Kinger a look. "Sarcasm is a foreign language to you, isn't it? Look at them! She's giving him those eyes." Jax groaned.

Pomni and Caine were leaning into one another as they were stopped at the top of the ferris wheel.

"He's smiling that smile." Kinger said happily.

"They're laughing and hugging and- eugh..." Jax's tone became increasingly disgusted. "Fine. I give up. I'm going to go throw myself in the digital lake."

"ooh! Can I join you?" Kinger asked eagerly.