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areyouwell · 5 months ago

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Nyctophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness

Ch.1

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go

How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.

But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.

Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.

You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.

“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.

“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?

“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.

“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.

“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.

“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.

“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.

“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.

“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.

You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.

“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.

“Hey.”

“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.

“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.

But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.

“Logan!”

Ah, you guess that made sense now.

Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.

Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very�� rugged lumberjack looking.

You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man.

“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.

“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.

“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.

“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.

“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly.

“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.

Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.

“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”

“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.

“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.

“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.

You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”

Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?”

“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.

“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles�� telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned.

“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.

“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”

“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?”

“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.

Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.”

You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.

“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.

“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.

“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.

“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.

“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!

“Uh…” Storm started.

“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.

“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.

“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.

“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”

“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.

“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.

“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.

“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.

Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.

“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.

“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.

For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.

“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering.

Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.

“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.

“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.

“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.

“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.

“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.

Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you.

Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him.

Literally.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.

He was in huge trouble.

The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.

He had to remind himself of that.

“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself.

You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.

If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.

“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.

“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”

Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.

“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.

“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.

“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you.

“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…

“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.

“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?

Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either.

Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything.

“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.

Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.

You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.

“Whaddya mean it made sense before?”

“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.

“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.

“Get it now?”

Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.

You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.

Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?”

You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met.

He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.

“Sure.” He said, before closing the door.

You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?”

Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”

Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it.

“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.

Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.

“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.

“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.

“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.

“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.

“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.

“But in practice?”

“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.

Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.

You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.

“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.

Fuck’s sake.

Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.

You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.

Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.

Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.

“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.

“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.

“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent.

“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.

He really didn’t like you lying to him.

“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.

“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.

Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”

Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.

“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.

For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.

“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.

“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”

Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.

“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.

It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!

He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking…

With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.

“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?

Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”

You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.

“You were a waitress?”

“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.

With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.

“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.

“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.

“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.

“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.

“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.

“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.

“Walked into that one…”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.

“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”

The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.

You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”

“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.

“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.

Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.

You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill.

But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.

“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.

Logan was right. That was a good thing.

“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.

Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.

“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”

Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.

“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.

“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”

“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.

“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care.

“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.

“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?

“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.

“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.

Yeah. For science.

Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”

“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.

“Ya done?”

“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.

“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.

“So what?”

“How’dya make the pasta?”

You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care.

As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.

“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.

It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.

“I should probably–”

“Look, you should–”

You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours.

Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.

“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.

“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.

But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.

Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.

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silverflqmes · 10 months ago

Note

Hai!! I was wondering if you’d be able/want to/feel comfortable with writing a nsfw cloud x reader? Maybe something sweet, like their first time together as a couple. If you don’t like the request is fine ! I hope you’re having a great day :]

໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

notes. hi anon, i have not written nsfw in some centuries so i hope this is decent cuz i definitely lost my touch😭 i wrote the reader as female since that’s what i’m used to writing, given i’m.. well, a girl😵‍💫 hope that’s okay with you</3

genre. nsfw + fluff

tw. virginity loss, hand job, fingering, riding, slight uh pillow princess cloud in the beginning..

disclaimer. uncomfortable with smut or younger than 17? please dni.

cloud strife x fem!reader

it was quarter to midnight and the blond still could not find it in himself to sleep. not that he ever could, anyway.. but since he’d gotten with you, sleep came just a little more easily and the nightmares became less frequent.

tonight, however, was a slightly different case.

“cloud..” you mumbled sleepily, lifting your head from his back when you felt him shift against your hold. “still can’t sleep?”

remembering your presence, he blinked in the darkness, feeling your hand on his stomach, which he gently took ahold of, kissing the back of it. “sorry, having a hard time..” he paused to think of a vague excuse, if only to mask his embarrassment. “getting um, comfortable, right now.. nothing to do with you, though.”

his cheeks were twinged with pink under the sliver of moonlight that spilled into your shared bedroom through the curtains, but thankfully hidden from your stare.

while he had said it was strange for him to be the ‘little spoon’, part of him was grateful that he was now..

a pout came to your lips as you urged him to turn over, but he wouldn’t budge — adamant on not being seen. something was.. off. really off.

“cloud, come on- you can tell me. you know i won’t judge you for whatever reason that’s preventing you from sleeping.” you assured, smoothing the hand he wasn’t holding over his arm, comfortingly.

he shuddered unknowingly at the touch, hyper aware of your proximity to him — the way your body had pressed against his back and your light breathing on his neck now.

the fabric confinements constricted in protest, and he willed himself not to make any noises that gave away his sensitivity. why did it have to hit him tonight so suddenly? was it that lack of battling, with his arch nemesis no longer threatening the planet?

“i-it’s nothing.” he shook his head, attempting to steady his tone, but his facade was faltering. “just.. go back to bed, i should fall asleep in a moment or — a-aah.. aaah.”

panic crossed your features at the noise he made as you let go him within seconds, finally catching a glimpse of his expression to see he was not wincing out of agony.. but of pleasure?

curiously, your eyes slid down to his lower half to find him squeezing his legs together for dear life. oh.

“c-cloud, are you — ”

“yes-! fuck, i am..” he breathed out, turning his head to hide his shame in the pillow, but you turned him back over without harming him, pursing your lips together.

“y’know,” you began, heaving a sigh. “you could’ve just said you were feeling things- it’s a normal thing.. instead you had me thinking you had a bad dream again or something.” you shook your head, relief washing over you despite your scolding.

the former mercenary kept his gaze elsewhere, grumbling quietly under his breath. “it’s not so easy to say ‘i’m horny, do something about it’. feels awkward, okay.”

you found yourself rolling your eyes before you pushed yourself up, lavender colored sheets sliding off your body as you moved to situate yourself between his legs. “i suppose it’s blunt, but i don’t mind it. we’ve been together for over a year now.. and have known each other for several more.” you reminded him tenderly, leaning down to peck his lips softly. “if you needed ever needed to.. indulge.. i’m more than willing to do so, at your consent.”

cloud found himself shuddering at the words that spilled over his rosy appendages, rouge splashing across his his nose and cheeks at your boldness. while you had been confident, in contrast to how he behaved and presented himself.. this was a side he had yet to see from you — and goodness.

“but- it’s late..” he muttered back, aware that you had to wake up early to help tifa out at seventh heaven by daybreak. it was tedious work and he knew you weren’t one for getting up at first light.. cutting into your sleep felt criminal.

however your expression seemed unchanging, having made up your mind already, from what he concluded.

“and?” you pressed, hovering over his face. “i won’t be that long, and besides — we live in a society where coffee exists.” you reminded him, clicking your tongue before placing a hand on his hip. “i’ll be fine.”

his back nearly arched at the light caress, but he forced himself to be completely still, eyeing you with furrowed brows for a moment longer before exhaling. “are you.. sure about this?”

a quiet laugh tumbled past your lips as a knowing smile crossed your lips. “would i be offering to help if i wasn’t?”

it was a fair point, and although cloud wanted to continue denying himself for the sake of you getting rest.. he found himself succumbing to his intrusive thoughts the more he stared up at you.

“i guess not.” the blond concurred after a brief silence on his end, averting his mako tinted hues. “you’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

the eager shake of your head was enough of an answer as he closed his eyes in defeat. “okay, fine.. just take it easy on me, it’s..” he paused, pursing his lips together.

“your first time?” you finished in a hum before letting out a giggle when he didn’t answer. “it’s okay, i thought so.” you assured him, hooking your thumbs onto the waistband of his boxer briefs. “if it gets too much, you can tell me.”

a nod of confirmation was all that was needed for you to fully tug down his undergarments, a hiss leaving your lover’s lips as the frigid air caressed his most intimate part.

gingerly, you wrapped your hands around his shaft, never missing the gasp he failed to suppress as you pumped him slowly.

cloud’s hand flew to cover his mouth, eyes squeezing tighter as wave of ecstasy washed over him — gradually erasing the previous discomfort he’d felt.

in all his years, other than that massage back at the wall market of sector six, he’d never been touched in a way like this. a manner that sent bolts and sparks of pleasure down his spine, electrifying him in every possible way.

but the spiky haired male was too shy to ask for help on the rare occasions that he’d found himself pent up. all that fighting quelled any need for sexual release.. but now, with little to no battles to partake in these days, those late nights he’d spend away on deliveries were often occupied by his hand.

“f-fuck, y/n..!” he breathed out, feeling his legs tremble from the pleasure you had created.

you continued at an even pace, sliding your attention back over to boyfriend’s features when he called your name out. “does it feel good?” the answer was abundantly clear, though you felt the need to ask, anyway. couldn’t hurt to be safe.

he nodded his head rapidly, flushed skin glimmering under the glow of the moon. “ngh- f-faster, a-aaah~ please..” he whispered back pleadingly, tears gathering at the corners of his lashes.

it was truly a sight to behold — a part of cloud no one else had witnessed but you. and you had been the reason for his expressions, the noises he made — his reactions.. all of it was by your work.

wanting him to reach his high, to see the stars you had hoped he would see on your first time together, you quickened your ministrations, rolling your thumb over his tip. it was a little adventurous, but his moans was all the encouragement you needed to continue.

in an attempt to address your own aching heat, you slipped two fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, dragging them over your aching bundle of nerves before sliding them into your entrance.

a prolonged sigh escaped your lips, feeling your walls loosen around your fingers with each thrust while your partner became undone at the mixture of his own euphoria and the mere sight of you.

it made him strangely jealous, as he wanted to be the one to please you.

with a shaky breath, he reached down into the drawer of his nightstand for a familiar packet, carefully tearing it open when your breathing transitioned into panting.

you hadn’t even noticed that the self proclaimed ex-SOLDIER removed your hand from his cock, nor had you caught sight of him sliding a condom over himself.

no, it wasn’t until he grabbed your hips and brought you forward that you’d removed your hands at the brush of his tip against your clit, grasping ahold of his shoulders as a whine left your lips. “h-haahh~ cloud..” you drawled out in a needy beg, arching your back just slightly.

and that was all he needed to take you at last, sheathing himself slowly into your warmth.

he brought you impossibly closer to him at the squeeze of you against him, a staggered pant spilling past his appendages as he buried his face into your neck. “s-shit — was that too much?”

“n-no!” you refuted a little louder than planned, shaking your head. “j-just, one second.. a-and you can move..”

despite his worry, he took your word for it, exhaling lowly as he felt you shift.

with another sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder, allowing yourself to nod. “o-okay, i’m good..”

cloud took it as a sign to continue as he pulled out slowly before plunging back into your core at an equal pace, steadily falling into an appropriate rhythm.

the stars you had thought of before in regards to cloud’s pleasure entered your vision at last when he nailed that special spot of yours.

“a-aahh~! cloud-!”

your whines and cries of his name was fueling enough to continue hitting that same spot, feeling you crash down on him harder.

“almost.. t-there..” he reassured you quietly, and perhaps even himself as well.

the knot coiling in your stomach was on the verge of snapping, one thrust away from unraveling completely.

in light of that, cloud captured your lips in a climatic kiss, swallowing your cries of elation when you met your end at last.

covered in a sheen of sweat, the blond gave you two more thrusts before removing himself from your dipping heat, allowing you to collapse against him.

his breath was far from even, yours no better than his own as he gazed up at the ceiling, eyes half lidded. “we should.. probably clean up..”

a tired laugh escaped you, having put together several other phrases he could have started with.. but then you reminded yourself that this was cloud strife — your very awkward, but adorable boyfriend.

“don’t w-worry,” you assured, sucking in another dose of air. “we will..”

notes. good grief i haven’t written smut in ages, i hope this was decent.. i feel like i’ve lost my touch😔 but wishing you a great day too, anon! along with anyone else reading this filth🫡

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suguru-getos · 5 months ago

Text

Fates - SatoSugu x F!Reader (Part I)

Summary: Y/N is Gojo Satoru's beloved wife, or maybe, not so beloved if we consider the rage festering in the form of abuse. Suguru however, has a connection to her too, and it's time he gets to his girl. Warnings: Satoru is a Yandere, he is psychotic, abusive, and bad. Mentions of slight depression, scared reader. Please let me know if I missed anything. A/N: Queen Goddess Ena cooked with this, I was so bored at work I just came up with this, this story will only have two parts I don't want to drag it much :33

Pupils glazed, it has almost become a signature look in the Satoru household. Her pupils look red, eyes puffy, and she's a mixture of mingled sniffles and broken cries. Satoru thinks, she cries a lot. What even is the need for it? It's not like he is harming her, he hasn't shown her half of what he is capable of. Yet, the way she cowers and flinches against him… makes his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"I brought your favourite." His voice echoed, a signal for her to stir awake instantly. Meek, hurried footsteps are heard a few seconds later as she drags herself to the dining area. Dressed eloquently, satin, lavender satin clothes and her beautiful cleavage on sight. It reminds Satoru that she is small, fragile, powerless. Sometimes when her actions become inexcusable, that reminder is needed. How else would someone like Gojo Satoru contain his strength otherwise?

"Wow, you look beautiful." His glossy lips parted, the compliment oozing out with a mixture of conflicted emotions. His eyes well hidden under the mask. "Thank you" She answered without thinking, it's only possible through months of practise after all.

"You're welcome, my Princess." Satoru croons, holding her bruised wrist and helping her sit. The hold is nice, kind and passionate. Unlike the time when it bruised, unlike the time when she wouldn't listen and deny eating. Some lessons are learnt the hard way, you can't help but feel guilty about it later on. For Satoru, it's one of those days where he is feeling upset over his actions. When that emotion trembles his psyche, his affections know no bounds. Why else is the dining table saturated with everything her silly, little heart could possibly desire. Yet, there is one thing missing. Her appetite.

She settles down the dining table, eyes glancing at the larger man who sat next to her, "All your favourites, now be a good girl and finish it up." He grins, it's okay, he can smile for the both of them on days when she can't. He can be positive for the both of them when she can't. What else are relationships for?

"You know I can't finish it up alone." She sounds scared, voice containing slight tones of malice. That doesn’t faze Satoru, he knows that it will happen. His Dearest, Sweetest little girl can be angry at him. She is allowed to be angry at him, he belongs to her anyway, just as much as she belongs to him. However, the fact that her eyes are filled with tears and her soft, smooth voice is breaking when she says it is what punches him in the gut.

"Well, you know, no punishments when you can't finish the food. Bonus points for trying!" Satoru tries to sound excessively excited again, a desperate attempt to mute the bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Okay" She hums, taking a bite of one of the pastries placed in front of her, humming in her approval. They seem tasty, yummy.

"I- uh," Satoru's voice is quick to distract her though, "I'm sorry for being a bad husband." Satoru answers, "It wouldn't happen again." There he goes, she has lost count to how many times Satoru has said these words. That he wouldn't do it again, that it wouldn't happen again. She doesn't believe him anymore, a bored nod is all he gets as a response.

Satoru's lips are pursed in guilt, "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that." He echoes again, that's true, he shouldn't have.

He shouldn't have sprained her wrist, he shouldn't have yanked her to the floor and yelled at her, he shouldn't have watched when her shoulder collides against the lamp and he shouldn't have watched her hiss in pain when she falls on the broken shards of glass. He shouldn't have done that because she didn't agree to have a baby. He shouldn't have…

"If it’s any consolation, I will not be botherin' you to ask you for a child again. Just thought you'd love me more with it." Satoru's voice drops into an ashamed murmur, admitting that all he wants at the end of the day is her love, it's freeing in a way. It's like confessing your sins at a church and just letting the almighty handle it.

It's just… her expression. She seems so out of it, so numb, broken… that he doesn't understand what to do, or say.

"Look, I'm running out of options here Sweetheart." Satoru's larger hand placed atop hers. The weak flinch not gone unnoticed, "How can I make it up to you?" He asked again, gnawing at his lip. "I'll do whatever you ask me to, I promise."

No he won't. If he would have actually done whatever she asked of him, they would have been divorced long, long ago. Satoru is good with words, his words almost seem healing, but that's all they are. Mere Fucking Words.

Before she could say anything, Satoru's phone vibrates. The only thing she is thankful for, is Satoru's impossible schedule. Being the strongest sorcerer ever has it's perks for her. She gets to rot in the Gojo estate alone. Much better than the company of her cruel, narcissistic husband.

Satoru gets up, taking the call and walking away to the hall-way. She can hear him trying to deny this mission, but reluctantly accepting it. A sigh escapes him when he comes back to the dining room, kneeling in front of her.

"Hey, Princess…" His hand reached to her cheek, caressing the cut that's still healing. "I have to go for a mission, you could even go outside if you like!" He smiled, giving her the bait to ensure at least momentarily happiness. What can she even do when she goes outside? Nothing. Satoru has his clutches deep within her family, her parents love him. He is sponsoring her brother's education, he takes control of everything. He has taken an active participation in her father's business. Nothing can be done now, the last time she mentioned divorce Satoru went livid. She doesn't think she can handle that ever again.

Another rehearsed nod happens, as she watches The Strongest leave her be.

Once his presence is gone, her heart bursts open to wails of agony, breathless sniffling and scream crying. What did she ever do to anyone! Why is she facing this! Her hopeless sobs echoed the premises, all she could hear was her own voice, broken, sobbing like a child. Until even that stopped, until silence enveloped her and exhaustion blanketed her into slumber.

The next morning, she is awake, realizing she passed out on the dining table. Her back hurts at the weird position she slept in, an aching groan escaping her lips. Satoru's texts on her phone wishing a good morning. Life is back to being hell. She responds to his texts with a sigh, dragging her boulted feet for a shower. Contemplating, thinking if there is any escape at all which can be possible. None, nothing comes to her mind. Absolutely nothing.

Drying herself up, applying ointments and bandages to the wounds caused by her husband, she gets ready to go outside, the mall seems nice. Satoru is out of Japan for a few days, perfect opportunity to gather herself back again, after all, Satoru needs something to break, right?

The commute goes by in a haze, thoughts on thoughts piled up, overwhelming like auditorium chatter of an audience.

"Uhm, excuse me, I really liked this one." One of the girls next to her spoke, whiskey-kin hair, a few years younger. It was an only designer in the Chanel store which was left. "Uh- okay." She hums, leaning away. Well, that was too easy? The girl beamed with happiness. "Oh wow! Thank you so much miss!"

Y/N had learnt how to respond with smiles that avoid any questions, and that's exactly what she did. Smiled back at the girl.

"My name is Nanako, I am here for shopping because my birthday is coming up soon. You are here for shopping too, and from the bruise on your jaw and neck, it seems your husband says sorry with new things." She was taken aback at the boldness, blinking.

"N-no, it was just- an accident." "You don't have to pretend in front of me, I don't think your husband is around anyway." Nanako winked, smiling back. "You're really beautiful, pretty sure my dad would have treated you way better. Leave the bastard, dump him!" She continued, following a very confused Y/N out the store. What was the deal with this girl even? "Your dad would be almost my dad's age." "Adoptive! He is a few years older than you I think." Nanako hums again, "Coffee? I like you because you gave me my favourite dress!" "I don't think that-" "Please!" "Uhm, okay." Y/N speaks, giving up and following up.

They settle in one of the coffee shops in the mall, settling in. The waiter comes in and asks for their order, "Iced Mocha, please." Y/N hums, and Nanako orders a Frappucino for herself.

"Nanako, who have you bothered now." A silky voice echoed from behind, her eyes lingered to the man in front of them, black hair touching his back, eyes responsive and appealing, his cologne was strong, musky and spicy, a close-eyed smile plastered on his features. "Geto sama!" Nanako chirps happily, "Please come sit next to us." She urged the man, who scanned Y/N and Nanako.

"Hello, my name is Geto Suguru." The man coos, watching her look submissive and even scared. She continuously reminded herself that Satoru is not here, nothing will happen. "Y/N Gojo." She hums, the large diamond ring on her finger noticed immediately.

Suguru is meeting Satoru's wife for the first time, he had heard that Satoru had changed; he is not the epitome of kindness anymore. It's evident. The bruises on her jaw and cheek are evident. His eyes softened, his heart hurts. Suguru met Y/N first, when she wasn't Gojo's wife… and let her go, the curses within him erasing her memory. All because Satoru loved her and Suguru felt that he owed it to his best friend, to have someone like Y/N. To have someone who can show him how great it is to achieve true love. How a non-sorcerer like Y/N was able to take Suguru's heart away. Oh how he regrets it now, he let his precious Angel go, and now she is in hell. The reminder when her loving eyes turned to void after their last kiss. Suguru has had recurrent nightmares about it. Maybe that's the reason Satoru's behaviour has changed. The fear of losing Y/N back to Suguru.

Well, that fear is about to come true, Suguru has had enough.

"You look beautiful in that dress Y/N Gojo." Suguru's voice took the lead, smiling gently. "Pity those bruises don't really suit someone strong-looking like you." The next statement comes off as scathing. "Tell me, if the person you loved, and the person who loved you back, and you shared a kiss, and they forget you, what would you do to remind them?" Suguru's sudden question took her off-guard. What does he mean…

"Sorry?" "Oh don't be. I know the question is random." He hums, watching the waiter put down the coffee. "I would kiss him again, if a kiss doesn't remind him, don't think anything else will." Y/N answered. Her freshly manicured fingers grazing against the glass.

Suguru's smile only grows wider. "Oh right, wonderful." He hums, and in the next swift movement, his hands are grazing Y/N's jaw. Her eyes widening. What is with this man, what’s happening! Satoru would kill her, Satoru would kill this man. Why can't she move, why is she unable to resist - and why is her body not anxious? If Satoru was to come near to her like this, her heart beat would have raced and pounded recklessly, a panic attack brewing. Nothing is happening now- she is as calm as it can be.

"How I missed my Angel." Suguru hummed, leaning in and kissing her, forcing the most unforced kiss ever. His tongue contained something bitter, something that latched deep down her throat. Suguru wants his angel back, Suguru misses her, Satoru couldn't get someone he can't love properly. Suguru's entire being was shattered when he let her go, it's time he has her back.

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babyflorencee · 8 days ago

Text

Clingy

Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Y/n was lying in her bed, the soft blankets draped over her like a warm embrace. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air from the fabric softener, mixing with the cool, crisp hint of the evening breeze that slipped through the cracked window. Outside, the moonlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a silvery glow that bathed the room in a serene, dreamlike quality.

It had been a long day, and all she wanted was to relax and unwind. But the moment she closed her eyes, she felt the weight of someone climbing onto the bed next to her.

"Y/n," Harry whined as he slipped under the covers, his chilled fingers grazing her waist as he wrapped himself around her, resting his head on her chest. His body was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the blankets.

"Harry," she said gently, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "What’s going on?"

"I’m just so cold," he whined, burying his face deeper into her chest. "And I don’t want to be cold anymore."

"Baby, you’re always cold," she laughed softly, tightening her arms around him. The sound of the sheets rustling filled the room. "And you’re literally wrapped up in a blanket right now."

He sighed dramatically, tightening his grip around her. "But I’m still cold, Y/n. And you have to warm me up."

"Okay, okay, I’ll keep you warm," she said, her tone tinged with amusement as she pulled him closer. Harry nuzzled into her neck, his cheek soft against her skin, his lips making the cutest pout, as she caught a faint trace of his cologne.

"I don’t ever want to let go of you," Harry mumbled. "You’re so warm and comfy."

"Well, you don't have to," she whispered, pressing a kiss on the top of his head.

Harry hummed contentedly, but his grip didn’t relax. If anything, it only tightened as he pressed himself against her side even more, like he was trying to melt into her completely. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"Y/n…" he whispered, his voice filled with a soft desperation. "Please just hold me."

"I am holding you," she replied, squeezing him back, trying to comfort him.

"No," Harry whined, "I mean, really hold me."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Y/n assured him, pulling him closer, as her hands traced soothing patterns across his back. "Is this better?"

"Mhm."

"You're a big baby, you know that?"

"I’m not a baby," Harry argued, though his voice was muffled by the way his face was pressed into her hair. "I’m just very affectionate. That’s all."

"Uh-huh, sure," Y/n said with a teasing smile. "You’re just a little clingy, that’s all."

Harry tilted his head up to look at her, his eyes wide and innocent. "Clingy? Me?" he gasped dramatically. "How could you say such a thing?"

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you won’t let me breathe without you being attached to me?"

"Well," Harry said with a little grin, "I’m not going to let you breathe without me attached. I like being attached to you." He punctuated his sentence by wrapping his arms tighter around her, as if to prove a point that didn't really make sense.

"You’re impossible," Y/n chuckled, letting him pull her in tighter. She could feel his warmth against her, and despite the teasing, it felt nice to be this close to him.

"Stop it. I just want to be near you," he mumbled, his voice soft and a little drowsy now. "What if you go somewhere? What if you leave me?"

"Harry," she said gently, "I’m not going anywhere."

"But what if you do?" he whined again, his hand clutching her shirt like he was never going to let her go. "I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here. Forever."

Y/n’s heart melted at how vulnerable he was being. She brushed a strand of his messy hair away from his face before placing a kiss on his forehead. "I’m right here, Harry. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

He gave a satisfied sigh and rested his head against her chest, still clinging to her like she was his lifeline. "Okay," he said softly, "but if you ever try to leave, I’m going with you."

She laughed lightly, running her fingers through his hair. "I’m not going anywhere, so you can relax."

"But what if you go to the kitchen for a snack?" he asked with a pout. "What if you don’t come back?"

"Harry, I’m not going anywhere," she repeated, amused by his ridiculous worries. "You’re stuck with me, alright?"

He responded with a dramatic groan, still holding onto her as if his life depended on it. "Good. Because I want you all to myself, right here, forever."

Y/n smiled warmly, hugging him back. " I like having you all to myself, too."

A soft, contented hum escaped Harry as he snuggled even closer, pressing his cheek against her chest. "Good," he muttered, already half-asleep. "Because I’m never letting go."

Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she felt his grip around her tighten again, and she realized that despite his clinginess, she didn’t mind one bit. In fact, she kind of loved it.

"You’re ridiculous," she whispered, running a hand gently over his back. "But I’m glad you’re here."

"I’m glad I’m here too," Harry mumbled, his voice fading as he drifted off to sleep, still holding onto her like she was his favorite thing in the world.

And as Y/n lay there, listening to his soft breathing and feeling the warmth of his body against hers, she realized just how perfect these quiet moments were. Even if he was clingy, Harry was exactly where he needed to be—right beside her.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #one direction

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mrs-weasley-reid · 5 months ago

Text

JUST SAY WHEN

Spencer Reid x writer!reader

Synopsis: You always choose Spencer Reid, but is it the right choice? Word Count: 3500+ WARNING: ANGST. not proofread!!! A/N: oh, here we go again... the angst plot in my head. this one feels disorganized. like my writing is all over. i've had this one in my drafts for over a month. but today i have the courage to hit post. honestly have mixed feelings about this. it's a new type of reader I'm dabbling in so i really am anxious about this. tell me what you think!

“You should’ve seen him when he first saw me.”

THE PURCHASE.

Vast lavender field soaked in chamomile tea. Dusty sunset through the window pane. Overwhelming aroma of old books. One figure tiptoes to the eighth shelf. Arm stretched to reach an old copy of The Scarlet Letter.

Whenever Spencer is asked what he felt at that moment, he thinks, “Like I saw an angel freshly descended from heaven.”

“Shit—” Gasps by the said angel.

A book and body drop on the carpeted floor.

Spencer runs to your aid. A failed attempt to prevent the seething pain you momentarily felt. First of many.

“Are you okay?” He asks, kneeling next to you. Spencer reflexively offers his hand.

You chuckle, taking his hand, and you feel him tense. “Don’t worry, I’ve had it worse.” You retract your limb to focus the pads of your hands on dusting yourself, squatting down to pick up the book.

Spencer nods unknowingly despite the confusion and the knots in his eyebrows. He glances at the book, “That’s a great book.”

Following his gaze, you hoist it up with a grin. “Very,” You emphasize. “I’ve read this, like, ten— thirteen times?” You brag excitedly, sparkling eyes as you meet his big brown sight.

“Eighty-four.”

You hum, raising your brows.

“I’ve read it eighty-four times.” Spencer shyly smiles, tight lips in a curved line. His hands grip the strap of his leather satchel. Socializing has always been his worst skill, let alone talking to someone as beautiful as you. He can’t help but feel his tongue twist itself into knots he can’t untie.

You blink—slowly and adorably innocent. “What?” You chirp. It’s not every day you meet someone who’s read a book more times than you. Plus, the boy in front of you is quite the charmer, and you’re distracted by the glow of hazels in his eyes.

Spencer nibbles on his lips, and a faint reddish glow creeps all over the land of his skin. “I— uh, I have to go. Bye.” He shuffles as if his body can’t figure out where to direct itself and ends up malfunctioning in the process. In the end, he walks past you, rushing to another aisle.

It takes you roughly twenty seconds to process that he’s no longer in front of you, twisting your body to his trail. “Eighty-four?!” You exclaim, baffled.

Your feet chase after him. “Wait!” You try to match his pace, almost jogging to catch up. “How is that even possible?” You get past him, completely blocking his way. “You just love this book so much that you read it on a loop, or what?”

“It really isn’t that big of a deal…” He mumbles, eyes glitching from one title to another, to towers of spines except you. A book with such a beautiful cover, his hands itch to reach and flip every page into memory.

You place your hands on your hips, furrowing your brows. “Tell me how you read it eighty-four times. I won’t leave you alone until you do. And I swear I’m the most annoying person you’ll ever meet, so it might be in your best interest to get rid of me quickly before you go insane.” You shrug like it’s a normal thing to say to a stranger.

Curiosity brims from your eyes, like a big doe's eyes begging a prey to bite her limb for the sake of adventure. And like a pirate tempted by a siren, Spencer takes the bait.

“My mom loves the book, so I read it to her all the time.” He admits, a hand behind his neck. It’s the start of a long explanation. You don’t dare stop him. Your eyes are fully fixed on his moving lips. He can feel it. And he fights not to meet yours because he just might explode.

Right then and there, you know the small contact from his hand completely stole your heart. And his words hold you into a willing prisoner because you saw him first from afar. Because you specifically chose the book in your hand despite having two copies of it to avoid first contact. Because you didn’t want him to know how long you’ve been staring.

Spencer gets abruptly cut off by a patron bumping into him. You fight every willpower in your chest to keep yourself from making a scene in a mall’s bookstore, shifting your attention to him.

“Want to talk more about it over coffee?”

“I was mesmerized. The beauty of his mind was so intricate I couldn’t stop myself from falling even if I tried. I wanted him to own me. And it happened just as I wanted. I just didn’t know it’d be torture… Reaching his hand out was his fatal mistake. Taking his hand was my demise.”

THE FIRST CHIP.

Disheveled. Broken. Sharp.

Big brown eyes dull in the dead of the night. Spencer stands before you with indifference.

He’s changed.

But the grip on the neck of his satchel tells you your Spencer is still there behind the walls he put up. The first of many false hopes you convince yourself to believe.

Five months. You’ve been dating Spencer Reid for only five months. And you’re in love with every fiber of his being. Only five months, and you know you’d love him for the longest run.

When people ask why you love him, you say, “Because I know he’ll never hurt me.”

Then it happens.

Tobias Hankel.

You loathe the name the moment you hear it. Accidentally burn yourself in the middle of making dinner when you receive a call from Penelope Garcia that Spencer’s been kidnapped by a serial killer.

In the moment, you panic. Almost causing a huge fire in your apartment building as you babble over the phone, asking Penelope where the hell your boyfriend is being held as if the word kidnapped meant a mark on a map.

Then, you worry. You beg Penelope to let you in on the progress of his search. You pace in your living room. You read every true crime book on your shelf. You pray on each page that an answer will dawn on you and that you’ll have something of use to locate Spencer, as if you knew everything when, in reality, all you knew was that he’s held captive by some sick villain in your story.

You felt like every sidekick in a hero’s movie. Useless.

When Penelope tells you that he’s on his way home, you’re never too tired or sleep-deprived to drive to his place. You waited hours outside his doorstep. You ignore the shivery breeze all over your skin, as you’d forgotten to change into something more weather-appropriate. You don’t worry about the unattended kitchen, the food you are excited to make.

You only think about one thing: be the first person Spencer sees when he comes home.

He arrives in the sixth hour, close to dawn. There's a gauze on his temple. His eyes are glued to the wooden floor.

It’s a strength not to cry out from the sight. Worry courses throughout your body. But the relief that he’s made it home safe cancels the anxiety out of your head. All you want is to cradle him, wrap him in your arms to remind him of home, of safety, of being loved.

You take Spencer into a tight hug. “I was so worried.” You whisper in his chest, breathing in his wake. He’s safe. Everything should be okay. “I’m glad you’re safe. I care about you so much.”

Only for him to say, “You should go home. It’s late.”

“I’m not gonna leave you by yourself.” You shake your head, pulling away to stare at his empty face. Your palm cups his cheek, and it’s cold. He doesn’t lean against it. He simply winces like your touch is dangerous.

“I’m too tired to entertain a guest.”

You.

A guest.

There’s a small sting inside your chest that you ignore don’t notice. Your heart feels similar to a teacup with a chip on its rims. Delicately painful to the touch.

You swallow the thick air in the middle of your throat, nodding as you bite the tears from the back of your eyes. “Alright, my love…” You softly enunciate, not wanting to sob at the sight of Spencer avoiding your image.

The spark in him that you love so much is nowhere to be found. Only hatred and something you can’t figure out swim behind his irises. He doesn’t even reach for your hand. Doesn’t hum in delight like he always does when your skin caresses him.

A prominent chip marks your being. As if you had been dropped from two floors down.

You shove the thought away.

You tell yourself that Spencer needs his space. Tell yourself that he needs time to process, to heal. You tell yourself it’s okay because Spencer’s had a long week. You tell yourself it’s not about you.

You leave a kiss on his cheek, “Rest well. Call me if you need anything.” You walk down the stairs with a weight you don’t discern.

Spencer doesn’t say he will.

And he didn’t.

“It takes a while before I realize the chip he caused. And even then, I said, what is love if I never get hurt? What is love if there’s no struggle? Besides, there are moments when the chip didn’t hurt. Minimum effort filled the aching void. Simplest gestures blinded me. Sweetest words impaired my hearing. I wasn’t hypnotized or caught in a spell. It’s plain and simple. He had a hold on me. I chose not to break free.”

THE VOICES IN HIS HEAD.

“Oh, here we go again.”

You feel yourself physically shrink.

Spencer rolls his eyes, pushing one hand into the depths of his right eye socket. Heavy sighs drool off his lips. The pounding in his head makes his vision blurry. And you’re convinced some type of voice tells him you’re no one important in his life.

You had asked him if he’d like to take a break from his files. After he’d said no, you carefully made a point that he hadn’t eaten anything the whole day. Then, you’re back to the now, where Spencer snaps at the mere mention of taking his fingers off the thin edges of the case.

A year into loving him. A year into being his solace—his words that now seem to be a lie—and you feel your entire body tense with every twitch and narrow of his eyes.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?”

Your chest tightens. A tug hitches your breath. A strong pressure sits over your lungs, deflating every air out without any chance of inflating back.

Since that night, Spencer changed. And you don't blame him. Completely understanding the stake of his trauma. Motivated to make his days better, to make him feel better.

The first month since that evening, Spencer didn’t text or call. He didn’t answer yours either. He isolated himself, and you’d heard from JJ that they even had a hard time talking to him.

So, you thought you weren't alone. That you weren't the problem. Because if everybody else can't reach him, then Spencer must want his solitude.

You climb on your shelf. You patiently wait for him to want you again. You let it happen. Let him consume you despite the ache that gnaws in the back of your mind.

And when he comes knocking on your door. You swing it so fast, eager to have him back in your arms. You lock the tingly feeling inside a vault. Because Spencer said he loves you that day.

“I’m trying to do my job. It’s a difficult job, unlike yours, where you just scribble on paper or tap on your annoying keyboard and be done for the day.”

It cracks. Every fiber of your being cracks. The colorful memories are stricken with connected lines, slowly turning into a depressing gray.

You crack internally. A glass hit with force enough to break but not enough to shatter apart. Your skin holds up every broken part like a puzzle piece.

He’s just mad. He doesn’t mean it. You chant inside your head. You don’t know who you’re lying to.

Spencer said he loves your writing. Love every word lined by your weaving hand. Love the stories formed from mundane moments and late nights. Love the emotions that brim within spaces and punctuation marks.

And you wonder if you should've kept not believing it. If you should've stayed appreciative but never convinced.

“There are people’s lives at stake. I’m saving people’s lives, not filling their free time by reading your made-up stories.”

A target made to be maimed. Spencer aims at the center with precision. And you’re stricken with every shot.

Your feet step back on their own. A subconscious pull for safety. Heart beats in fear, in ache.

“I’m sorry.”

It dies in your throat. Your body shakes in so much pain you don't mind the way your heart and lungs shrink. Afraid that tears may fall, willing them to stay in place—in the back of your eyes where Spencer won't find them.

His migraines worsen. You tell yourself.

He’s still in pain. You remind yourself.

His job is more important. You convince yourself.

Excuses after excuses. You make it a habit. Make excuses for him to distract the piercing agony.

“W-why don’t I give you some space? Refill your cup?” You offer a smile like it’s a job you must carry successfully.

Spencer gulps, hands in his pockets. “That would be great. Thanks.” He replies, getting back on his seat as if he hadn’t just cut through you like a sharp ax splitting a small trunk in half.

You flinch when he shuts the door as soon as you step out of the room. Each piece vibrates in place, waiting for the last hit.

“Litany of reasons come after that. I woke up each day with yet another excuse. A shameful attempt to sell what was rotten. Until I took a bite of it myself, and I tasted the sickening truth.”

THE DESTROYED SAND CASTLE.

It's deafening.

The sound of you shattering into a thousand pieces. Sharp edges cut through every fabric of what you thought was true, what you thought was real.

“I love her.”

But you're not her.

You’re not the great Dr. Maeve Donovan. The woman who kept his migraines at bay, if not anything, cured them. The smart, beautiful, successful woman who rang every local pay phone in his vicinity. The woman that occupied his waking days. Days he went through next to you.

Dr. Maeve Donovan. Spencer’s great love.

And he’s never seen her in person until her last breath. But her voice is enough to steal him away from you. Enough for the color in Spencer’s skin to light back up after years of your failed attempts. Enough for Spencer to fall in love with her. Enough to stay in love with her despite her being gone in the wind. Despite you sleeping next to him every single night.

She was enough. The idea of her is enough.

“I love her.”

Love. Present tense. Spencer loves her.

You don’t remember the last time he’d ever said those words to you. Don’t remember the genuine emotions that radiate along those words. Don’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt loved by him.

“Hey…”

You walk past Penelope. You don't realize it until she catches your arm, distracted by the fatal explosion inside your chest. You can see the way your world crumbles like a sand castle kicked by the meanest bully.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong? Did you not find Reid? Is he not in Hotch’s office?” Her eyes soften at the sight of your tears flowing like a steady river. “He’s safe, I promise. Just a little graze, you’ll see.” She tries to console you, rubbing the side of your arm.

Just a little graze.

Spencer has been carving little grazes on you for years, and the final blow causes your entire life to shatter in fine dust—close to nonexistence.

“Do you mind telling Spencer that there was an emergency, so I had to go?” Your voice breaks with each syllable, fighting the sobs from spilling out. It’s numbingly painful. Every part of you is sore and aching.

Penelope furrows her brows, “Sure, but is everything okay? What emergency?” She pries, no bad intentions, simply a sign of her kindness.

You take a rough gulp. “I…” You look into her eyes, begging for her not to ask further.

She nods, giving you a soft squeeze on your arm and a warm smile. That's when you knew that she knew exactly the source of your nonstop tears. Maybe no longer than you did because you can see the anger in her eyes. At least she's on your side. And it's enough for you. “Call me if you need anything, love,” Penelope says, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m always here for you. I’m always ready to be on your side.” She adds against your neck.

And you're heading towards the elevator without a second thought.

You hear your name as the doors close, lifting your head to find Spencer coming out of the bullpen. Penelope is true to her words, blocking him from reaching where you stand. His voice makes your insides churn. The sound of your name rolling off his tongue is sickening.

Your body collapses on the floor. The sobs finally echo within the tight space. The tears endlessly flow in raging torrents between floors. You wrap your arms around your torso, holding yourself together.

But it's way too late.

Every piece of you has already shattered into messy pieces. Spread out in broken parts, unfit even if you tried to glue yourself back together.

Spencer has destroyed the castle you've built. The castle you made just for him.

You wonder if it's all for show. If Spencer chose to keep you just to avoid his boredom when Maeve’s unreachable. If he only tolerated you to fill her physical absence.

But you should’ve known that it was a matter of time. His kisses were merely ghosts. His touch was stinging cold. His words were hallow.

The signs were clear in plain sight.

Spencer stopped loving you a long time ago.

"It's my fault." You say out loud, as if thinking it isn't painful enough.

You made a choice. Each day, you choose to make up new reasons why Spencer is distant. You convince yourself that you aren't hurt by his cold glances. You tell yourself that it’s not torture if you love him.

The elevator dings to the last floor.

“Remnants of myself dried up inside that box.”

Tongue runs over the softness of your lips as the final lines of your book approach with the same heart-wrenching ache. For the audience, at least.

You flip the page, lifting your gaze. You scan the mass of teary eyes and silent sobs.

There, you find two familiar faces. Penelope sniffs next to Rossi, who’s smiling proudly. The sweet blonde became your secret ray of sunshine. And the Italian mentored your way to a New York Times bestseller.

"In that tight space. In the center of those four moving walls. I wished so much that he'd only said when. When everything felt too much. When I was unwanted. When he stopped loving me. I would've understood. Because I always did."

What you don’t expect is the third familiar figure. It stands in the farthest back. A shadow if you don’t know any better. You take a deep breath.

The next words are etched in your brain. The first words you’ve ever written in the making of the book under your palm. The words that still ring in your ears.

“I must say, it’s not that I never learned. I learned so much that within the cracks of my broken self, I filled them with empty promises. Promises I never kept. Promises I broke because I believed I’d be fixed in a couple of days. I believed that the space between pieces of me would mend if I made the choice to stay.”

His hair is unkempt. His eyes are as brown as the healthiest earth. His build is leaner. His face is worn out by horrors you don't dare imagine.

Flashes of his pleas, his tears, his knocks on your door. You remember them like they were just yesterday. The pain that left a prominent indentation on your heart.

Tattoos of pain adorn his face. Has he been there the entire time? Do you really care if he was?

You lock eyes with Spencer, pausing for a moment. You let the past seep in. You unlock the vault of your broken pieces. Let them sing in agony. Let him hear the melody of your suffering.

And then it stops. They vanish through the air of peace. The relief of moving on.

You smile at him. The one that started everything.

“It’s important to know that I always had a choice. And with that is the acceptance that each time I chose wrong.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

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readsaboutreid · 6 months ago

Note

Could I please request a sunshine! Reader who's a friend of Penelopes, and she goes to drop off some baking for Pen when she asks Spencer for directions to her office, he's a stuttering mess and the reader offers him a cookie as thanks for his directions. And she tells Pen about the cute guy and so she ropes Morgan into setting them up?

YES YOU CAN this sounds adorable and i love it pure fluff and baked goods coming right up! i hope you like it this is my first request and i'm kinda nervous

pairing: Spencer x sunshine!reader

contains: pure fluff, adorable flustered Spencer, another blink and you'll miss it Buffy reference

Lavender Roses | S.R.

Spencer sat at his desk, the stack of folders on it feeling as though each time he completed one another one is added. He takes a deep breath and leans back, taking his glasses off his face to massage the bridge of his nose. Most of the time he was glad to have a slow casework day but for some reason today was crawling by.

He placed his glasses back on his face and turned to resume to his work before he heard a soft voice. "Excuse me?" He swiveled in his chair and found that in front of him stood possibly prettiest person he's ever seen before carrying a couple of small plastic tubs. She was smiling slightly at him, her eyes sparkling even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bullpen. She wore a long-sleeved black dress with a white collar and a flared skirt and a pair of black Mary Janes. "Hello?" She asked again.

His eyes widened slightly and he remembered that she had been about to ask him something so he cleared his throat. "Oh, hi! Uh, m-may I have you? Uh, help. M-may I help you?" Spencer shook his head and nearly slapped his palm to his forehead but managed to refrain from doing so. His cheeks burned as he met her gaze again and was met with a smile so sweet that it would have made his knees buckle had he been standing.

"Yes, actually!" She responded, her smile growing wider. "I'm looking for Penelope Garcia's office? I need to drop these off for her." She held up the boxes, which upon further inspection held an assortment of cupcakes, brownies, and cookies in the very top one.

"Oh, oh yeah ! It's just, uh—it's r-right over—just turn around and—," he stammered, his cheeks burning more and more with each failed attempt to organize his racing thoughts so that they'd come out of his mouth fluently instead of in the word jumbles he was currently producing.

"Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but you said you're looking for Penelope Garcia?" Derek Morgan swooped in, rescuing Spencer from further embarrassment. "Her office is right this way, I can take you to her." He flashed her one of his smooth smiles and placed a hand on her arm as he began to turn her in the right direction.

"Oh, thank you!" She said gratefully. Before Derek could lead her away she turned back to Spencer and opened the top container, lowering it in front of him. "Here, have a cookie as a thanks for helping me!"

"B-but I didn't even—," he began before being shushed by her in a joking manner, her index finger landing a mere centimeter in front of his lips.

"Uh-uh! I will hear none of that nonsense," she laughed, making his heart skip a beat or two. "You were kind to me so take a cookie."

"O-okay, if, uh, if you insist," he gave a nervous laugh of his own as he reached his hand in and grabbed the first cookie his fingers met. He quickly withdrew his hand and met her eyes once more. "Th-thank you!"

"You're welcome, handsome!" She chirped before letting Derek lead her to Garcia's office, leaving Spencer silently kicking himself for fumbling that interaction so thoroughly. He took a bite of the cookie and was met with the most amazing tasting treat he'd ever had as he went back to working on the pile of folders on his desk.

"Thank you for showing me to Penelope!" (Y/N) thanked the kind man, who had introduced himself as Derek Morgan. She had heard endless stories about him from Penelope so it was nice to put a face to the name. "What, no cookie for me?" He joked, right as Penelope opened the door.

"She better not give you one! These are for my party tonight!" She said immediately.

"Oh, it's fine, Pen, I made like 30 of these things, not to mention the brownies and cupcakes. Plus, I already gave one to your other coworker so it's only fair, I suppose," she opened the top container, allowing the man to pick a cookie.

"Thanks gorgeous," he winked and walked off, taking a bite of the cookie. "Mmm these are delicious!"

They walked into Penelope's office and she closed the door behind them as (Y/N) set the containers down on one of the few surfaces not littered with papers and/or computer equipment. Once her hands were free she hugged her friend and they began catching up. Eventually, (Y/N) couldn't help but ask about the young brunet agent with whom she had shared her first encounter.

"So Pen, who was that tall, handsome agent I met earlier?" She asked, feeling her cheeks burn as she blushed lightly.

"Oh, sweet cheeks, stay away from him! He's mine," Penelope joked back, nudging her friend lightly with her elbow.

"Oh no, not him. He was nice but before he led me to your office, I had asked another agent where to find you. He was younger, wearing glasses, closer to my age, and he had what looked like the softest brown hair and he got all cute and flustered," she gushed to her friend, not taking a single breath until she had finished and took in a large gulp of air.

"Wait wait wait, are you talking about Reid?" Penelope laughed, her hands flying up to her mouth. "Skinny guy, about 6'1", dresses like he shops with my grandpa?"

"Hey, I like the way he was dressed!" (Y/N) responded with a playfully indignant tone. "He looked very cute if you ask me. Truth be told that's why I offered him a cookie!"

As her friend was leaving, a plan started forming in Penelope Garcia's mind. Once (Y/N) was through the glass doors and in the elevator, she rushed over to Derek Morgan, sitting at his desk and working on a case file.

"Derek! Derek, I need to talk to you," she panted, slightly out of breath from her hurrying. "Come to my office with me." The two went to her office where she shut the door and hurriedly asked, "tell me about what you saw between (Y/N) and Reid!"

"Is that your friend from earlier, baby girl?" He asked, tilting his head to the side with an amused smile creeping on his lips.

"Yes and she spent about 20 minutes gushing over him, Derek," Penelope laughed. "She is smitten and their interaction couldn't have been all that long. So, tell me, you beautiful man, what. Did. You. See?"

"Okay, okay!" He put his hands in the air and gave a good natured chuckle. "She walked up to him and got his attention, he fumbled asking her if he could help her with something, she asked how to find you, and he tried to tell her but it sounded like he was about to have a stroke so I stepped in and offered to show her to you. She offered him a cookie as a thanks for his effort and then we went to your office."

"Nothing else?" She pressed, trying to get every last bit of information that she could.

"Uh, she called him handsome, I think?" He added, trying to sneak a second cookie but being met with a slap on the wrist from Penelope.

"Okay so I have a plan," she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned in closer to Derek. "But I'm going to need your help."

Spencer sat in the café Derek had told him to go to, a single lavender rose in front of him. He had been told to look for a girl wearing a light purple beret, but no such girl had arrived in the 15 minutes he'd been waiting. He checked his watch while his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Why had he agreed to a blind date in the first place? Logically he knew Derek wasn't like the kids he went to school with growing up, he would never intentionally hurt his friends like that, but a part of Spencer's mind was telling him that this was all some elaborate prank that all his coworkers would be laughing about on Monday.

In the midst of his thought spiral he failed to notice that someone had approached his table until he heard a soft throat clearing from in front of him. He started and looked up, his cheeks turning a soft shade of red as he met the twinkling eyes that have been plaguing his thoughts for the passed week.

"Dr. Reid?" She asked with a hopeful look on her face. "I don't think we were every properly introduced the other day. I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N). May I join you?"

"Oh! Uh, um, s-sure! Please do," he stuttered, realizing that she was wearing a lavender colored beret that from the looks of it was handmade with a lot of care. "I, uh, I'm Spencer." He smiled at her as she sat across from him in the empty chair.

"It's nice to officially meet you, Spencer," she responded with a soft giggle that made Spencer feel like he was about to melt.

"I, uh, I brought you this," he told her as he reached for the rose in front of him, reaching his hand out over the table to hand it to her. Her cheeks tinged an adorable shade of pink as she reached for it.

"I don't know if I've ever seen a rose this shade before," she whispered, twirling it around in her fingers as her eyes widened in awe.

"Different colored roses carry different meanings," He began explaining his thought process behind the particular color he had picked for her. "Lavender colored roses usually represent enchantment, admiration, and carry an air of mystery or mysticism, so I figured it would be a perfect color for the first time meeting you." He felt his cheeks burn as he finished his explanation.

"That's incredibly sweet of you, Spencer," she smiled at him softly, reaching forward to put her hand on top of his. At this point he swore his heart was going to explode. "And even though we've technically met before it also has the added benefit of matching my hat quite well."

"Yes, yes it does," he smiled back as a warm feeling bloomed and spread throughout his chest.

"So what do the other colors of roses signify?" She asked, tilting her head and listening eagerly with the very same smile that had made him tumble head over heels for her during their first encounter as he began explaining each and every color of rose and their multitude of meanings. Not once did she roll her eyes or sigh from boredom. As the night drew on and the conversation flowed Spencer knew that a lavender rose was indeed a perfect choice since what they really symbolized was love at first sight.

#criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x sunshine!reader #sunshine!reader

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actiniumwrites · 6 months ago

Text

love amidst loss

synopsis: in the height of the moment, you nearly die and they can’t deal with the thought of losing you

characters: baizhu, scaramouche, kazuha, and cyno x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, near death accidents, not proofread (sorry)

notes: uh so i wrote this a while ago and didn’t finish it up until recently, so sorry of this contains some errors or if any of the game lore has changed or been updated and doesn’t match what i wrote :) lyney was also supposed to be in this but i gave up on his part…sorry 😭

Baizhu:

“Qiqi. Bandages, now!” Baizhu yells desperately. Your heart rate was lowering by the second, while his was rising exponentially.

Qiqi slowly passes the small bin of various bandages to the doctor, “Yes, Dr. Baizhu.”

He can feel his hands shaking, tremoring as they work as fast as they can to close up all your wounds. Even throughout all his strange adventures and experiments attempting to achieve immortality, he’s never felt more afraid and anxious than in this moment. He could care less about hurting himself, but you? You meant the world to him.

“Baizhu…?” your eyes flutter open weakly while your elbows move behind you to sit up. A speedy hand pushes you back down in an instant.

“No, don’t,” Baizhu says, his heart beating out of his chest at the sight of your consciousness, “you shouldn’t be awake right now. I haven’t finished operating.”

Your hands feel fragile and your breathing is weak, but somehow you’re able to reach into your pocket and pull out a small bottle. It’s halfway full and a gentle lavender in color. It’s the concoction he had given you a while ago, in case of emergencies — an elixir of sorts.

“What about this?” you drop it into his hands. He shivers against your touch. What if this is the last time he’ll get to feel it?

Baizhu adjusts his glasses, analyzing the bottle in this hand, “Is this…? You still have this?”

You nod gently, careful not to move too much, “I saved what was left of it. I know you said you couldn’t make anymore, so I used it sparingly. Is it enough?”

Baizhu quickly prepares a bowl and some other ingredients to mix it with, “Yes, of course. I’ll make it worth a thousand lives over, I promise.”

A tender smile pulls at your lips while life beats back into your heart. Baizhu sighs of relief, resting his elbow against the edge of your bed with his pinky outstretched, “Please don’t scare me like that again.”

Your pinky wraps weakly around his, “Promise.”

Scaramouche:

“What’s going to happen to them?” Scaramouche presses, leaning by the side of the bed Nahida had prepared for you.

Eagerly, he places his hand in yours with a tight so grip you’d think he was scared. And he is. Scaramouche is terrified out of his mind. “You idiot,” he mumbles against your hand, “why would you jump into danger for me?”

Your eyes are shut tightly and your skin is so cold. He hates the way it feels like he’s going to lose you at any second, despite Nahida reassuring him countless times he wouldn’t. He still has so much love to give you. And god, what if he never gets to admit that to you? To finally say that he loves you out loud?

His eyebrows furrow and his lips fall into a sad frown. Amidst it all, a weak tone that he can’t be bothered to disguise falls from his mouth, “Please just tell me they’ll be okay?”

Nahida fights the urge to smile as she stands by the doorway of the room, ready to leave and give you both space. She nods firmly, “I promise you they’ll be okay. You have nothing to worry about.”

He nods back silently, loosening his grip a bit on your hand but not quite letting you go. And as soon as the archon slips away from the room, a small and vulnerable, “I love you,” falls from his lips.

And he swears he feels your hand grip his back a little tighter when he does.

Kazuha:

“Man, I drank wayyyy too much,” Kazuha slurs his words as he eyes begin to droop shut. You push his shoulder lightly to keep him conscious, a small laugh echoes amidst the waves of the ocean.

You feel it too — the buzz of the alcohol. The entire crew of the Alcor had been celebrating all night with big lights, tons of food, and an endless supply of drinks. Kazuha and you had already had more than enough, and it wasn’t until Beidou forced you guys to sit out for awhile that you realized just how much you had drank.

As you both sit on the edge of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge, Kazuha nudges you back. Only, it’s a little too forceful and you aren’t sober enough to stop yourself from sliding off. Desperately you reach for the wooden rails, but it isn’t enough to save you as you fall into the icy water below with a terrifying scream.

The water thrashes around you as you so eagerly attempt to stay afloat despite your lack of swimming skills. “Kazuha!” you scream before the water enters your mouth and begins to send you under.

In an instant he dives in, both of you now sobered up and well aware of the fact that a moment of fun had just turned darkly serious. All he can think about his how stupid he was for forgetting you can’t swim that well and that he shouldn’t have pushed you, even if it was a joke.

Kazuha finds you quickly and pulls you up fast. By the time he does, the rest of the crew joins around and helps you both back up and onto the boat.

His heart pounds a million miles per second as he watches you painfully cough out a bunch of water. Your skin is freezing to the touch and there are even a few small tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” Kazuha moves to hold your hand tightly, not only to comfort you, but also himself, “you’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

You only nod and lean back against the wood of the boat. He joins you quickly and you take it as a sign to rest your head against him. Gentle, but deep breathes leave his chest periodically and he can’t help but feel shaky all over. Kazuha had lost so many people in his life, and he’d have no idea what to do with himself if he lost you too.

“You won’t,” you whisper against his chest.

“Huh? Did I say that out loud?” Kazuha’s bright red eyes widen as they turn towards your resting figure.

You smile gently, “No, but I know what you’re thinking. You won’t lose me. I won’t let you.”

Kazuha hums contently to himself. He wouldn’t let himself lose you either.

Cyno:

“Is it just me or does something seem off?” you pause quickly, halting your footsteps at the slightest rumble of the complex structure you and Cyno had wandered into. You draw your sword quickly while Cyno swings his polearm from around his back.

His garnet eyes dart around the various hallways and statues, scowling as he comes to a realization, “It must’ve been those eremites we ran into earlier. I should have known they weren’t just ‘camping out.’”

Neither of you move as the structure continues to shake. Panicked, your arm grabs onto his as your eyes widen, “What do we do? If we don’t get out of here in time, this whole thing is gonna collapse!”

“Calm down!” Cyno shouts over the crashing sounds of rocks and statues slamming against the floor, “I’ll get us out of here!”

Within seconds later, a giant head of a statue falls from above and crashes just feet away. It happens so fast you lose your balance, feet stumbling as your arm slams against the wall. Suddenly, the panel you’re standing on slides away and sends you flying downward.

“No!” Cyno yells desperately, grabbing your arm just in time before you can fall hundreds of feet to your death.

Your hand barely holds on as you gasp, “I can’t hold on, Cyno! I’m sorry. Oh god, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to touch anything.”

His eyes widen in fear as you continue to speak. It’s the most scared you’ve ever seen him, but he can’t let you die. Not yet. “Don’t let go, please!” His arms hurt as he struggles to hold on, just barely keeping his balance against the sand covered floor, “I’m not going to let you fall.”

“I’m sorry,” you continue to apologize, eyes welling with panicked tears. Despite it sounding like a confession before death, you continue to hold on as best you can.

As if the dendro archon could hear both your pleas, the shaking stops suddenly. Cyno’s head shoots up and his arm grips your hand even tighter. With all the strength he can possibly muster, he pulls you up to safety.

Unable to comprehend what just happened, you quietly sob and fall against his chest. Cyno doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you as tightly as possible. Afraid that if he didn’t, you’d fall again and he’d lose you for good.

“Are you…are you alright?” He mumbles against the crook of your neck.

You nod silently in response, “I’m okay.”

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lordprettyflackotara · 3 months ago

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noise || homicidal liu & jane the killer || maid!reader || (𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta au)

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: threesome, dom!jane, dom!liu, knife play + blood play combo, overstimulation, ownership kink lowkey, breeding

Being at the Trenderman mansion was odd.

Not because of its residents, but because of what they allowed you to do.

After your encounter with Helen you never saw him or any sign of him, minus the news channel blowing up after he went on a manic killing spree. With nothing left to clean due to how pristine the mansion was, you were left to your own devices. For the remainder of your weekend you wondered around the mansion aimlessly, admiring all of the freshly polished wood and satisfying forest smell at every turn. The only place you found real comfort in was the library, which was giant in comparison to anything you had ever seen. When you were particularly bored you’d wonder there, curling up in a nook by the window to read to pass time. Truthfully you were enjoying the tiny break, but your body was yearning for some sort of satisfaction. You weren’t sure if it was supernatural or not, but your sex drive was high enough to please all of the mansions residents.

It was Sunday night, Ben and Toby scheduled to pick you up the following day. You were in the last clothing item you had clean, a skimpy silk lavender night gown. The mansion was cooler at night, goosebumps trailing across your bare skin as you headed towards the library. It was the dead of night, most of the mansions residents out and about. You pushed open the doors of the library, the overwhelming smell of cigarettes invading your nostrils. You were surprised to see two shadows sitting in your reading nook. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jane the Killer and Homidical Liu, talking amongst themselves as they shared a cigarette.

Jeff was not kind when it came to the descriptions of Jane or Liu. To Jeff, Jane was the psycho bitch who deserved her fate, while Liu was the moronic brother who he deemed to need therapy. You found this ironic coming from Jeff, but never vocalized any form of protest. Yet the stories he told made them out to be the worst of the worst, killers that would slice and dice you mercilessly at the first sight of you. You swallowed, realizing your gawking had alerted them of your presence. “There you are! There’s our little bookworm!” Jane cheered, rising to her feet. You couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed when she walked, a smile spreading across her lips. She approached you with ease, your body tense and eyes wide as she threw her arms around you. As you inhaled you could smell her perfume, the sweet scent of chocolate and cherries swirling around your nostrils. Jane noted your tenseness but pretended she didn’t notice, looping her arm through yours.

“I’m Jane and this is Liu. But since you live with Jeff i’m sure you know who we are,” She said, gesturing to each of them as she spoke. Her voice was smooth like butter as she walked you over to Liu. The brunette seemed intrigued by your appearance. “So it’s true, you really are human,” He commented. Jane joined him by his side, not failing to elbow him. “Be nice,” Jane hissed. Liu rolled his green eyes, placing the cigarette to his lips and inhaling. “So uh, are you two together or..?” You began to ask, your voice trailing off. Jane chuckled at your joke, Liu exhaling his cigarette smoke. “Oh no baby I don’t swing that way. I like pretty girls like you,” She laughed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks, her enchanting obsidian eyes staring at you. “You ever smoke a cigarette before?” Liu asked, his voice gruff. You awkwardly scratched the back of your neck. “Well uh maybe, one or two times I think..” You said honestly. Jane reached out and grabbed your arm, plopping you in between the two of them.

“Why don’t you give it a shot?” Jane cooed. Unsurely you took the cigarette from Liu, placing in between your lips. As you inhaled you noticed Jane’s soft hand placing itself on your thigh, while Liu scooted closer toward you. The tobacco swirled around your lungs, your eyes watering as you coughed. Liu chuckled at your reaction, watching as Jane took the cigarette away from there. “You’ll learn kid. Don’t worry, there’s a lot of things Jane and I can teach you,” Liu said. Jane smoked the cigarette with ease, your body melting under the touch of Liu pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “L-Like what?” You sputtered, your heart pounding. Jane placed the cigarette in a nearby ash tray, giving you a seductive smile. “You have such a pretty mouth baby, I think putting it to good use will teach you a few things,” Jane mused. Her words sent a chill down your spine. You were practically trembling under their touch. “What’s wrong kid?” Liu asked, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him. His emerald eyes were full of dominance, peering down at you curiously. “Well J-Jeff said-” You started, Jane quick to cut you off.

“Oh honey is that it? Did Jeff say bad things about us?” Jane asked in a sweet tone. You nodded quickly, Jane and Liu exchanging glances. “We’re not scary, are we Liu? Why don’t you show her how loving we can be?” Jane suggested. Liu hopped off of the bench, immediately falling to his knees. Jane made her way behind you, guiding you to lay against her chest. Liu’s skin was comfortingly warm, while Jane’s was cool and soft. The two made your heart pound and cunt throb, the idea of Jeff’s worst enemies getting you off liberating and terrifying at the same time. Your thighs were shaking with fear, Liu’s warm chapped lips pressing soft kisses onto your inner thighs. Jane pulled the straps of your night slip down, gently rubbing your exposed skin. “You caught us on a good night, Sully would’ve eaten you alive by now,” Jane whispered. She pulled your night gown down until your bare breast were exposed, your nipples becoming hard under the cool night air. “S-Sully?” You sputtered. Liu’s hands slithered under your gown, yanking down your thong. “Liu’s counterpart. Don’t worry baby we’re gonna take real good care of you," Jane cooed.

Her soft hands traveled to your breast, toying with your nipples as Liu's hot breath fanned over your cunt. You whined at the sensation, goosebumps traveling across your skin as Liu licked a stripe up your cunt. "Oh there she is, theres the good little whore everyones been talking about," Jane chuckled, twisting your nipples harshly. You whined as Liu attached his lips to your clit, violently sucking at the bud. One of your hands tangled itself in his hair, the other gripping onto Jane's thigh for support. "You know we've been waiting for your arrival, precious thing," Jane whispered. You whimpered as Liu lapped at your folds as if he were a starved man. "You see we're not above pissing Jeff off for fun," Jane snickered. You watched wide eyed as Jane took out her knife, handing it to Liu. "Now having his sex slave marked with our initials? That sounds like great fun to me. I'd focus on my voice honey, this may sting," Jane told you. You screwed your eyes shut as Liu brought the tip of the blade to your inner thigh, the sharp slicing of your skin making you cry out in pain. "Shh baby you're doing so good. Your reward will make this all the worthwhile," Jane cooed, watching in satisfaction as Liu finished carving an L.

Jane took the liberty of sliding her hand down to your aching cunt, circling your abandoned clit. You groaned as Liu began to carve the letter J, licking the blood from the other cuts. "Well would you look at that Liu, I think she likes it," Jane chuckled darkly. With your blood still fresh on his tongue Liu pulled away from nursing your wound, finishing Jane's initial. "What a dirty little whore, I knew there was a reason everyone loves her so much," Liu replied, his cock beginning to ache in his jeans. Slowly you blinked your eyes open as you whimpered, thin beads of blood forming from the fresh cuts. They still stung as Liu continued to lap at them, causing you to curse. Your body was confused, Jane playing with your cunt while Liu cut you making your head spin. "I hope you didn't go too deep Liu, poor slut already looks dazed," Jane commented. Liu wiped his chin, the clinking of his belt sending a chill down your spine. "We better get on with it then. Wanna see what the hype is all about," He said, pulling down his jeans. Jane rearranged you, making you lay down as the two of them undressed. She took off her panties, hovering over your face. You couldn't quite understand why your body craved what it did, but you wanted nothing more than for the pale killer to ride your face until sunrise.

Eagerly you stuck out your tongue, gasping as Liu abruptly shoved his cock inside of you. He bottomed out quickly, your mouth in the shape of an O as Jane sat on your face. You tried to focus on lapping at her folds, her juices addicting and thighs squeezing your head. "Surprised she still has such a tight cunt after being the community's gloryhole," Liu panted, harshly gripping your waist. You tried your hardest to please Jane, having never eaten pussy before. You tried to do what you thought would feel good, listening to her sinful noises to ensure she was feeling the best possible. "Yes well her tongue can certainly make up for whatever aspects she may lack," Jane agreed, grinding her hips down and onto your face. With shaky hands you grabbed her thighs, trying to balance yourself as Liu began to fuck you. His thrust were anything but slow, the brunette immediately seizing the opportunity to spite Jeff by fucking you. "Think I can get her pregnant? Take Jeff's play thing off the market?" Liu asked Jane, your walls fluttering around his cock at the thought. Your moans vibrated against Jane's folds, causing her to lean forward in an attempt to support herself.

"Sounds like a wonderful plan Liu. You sick twisted bastard," Jane moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she rode your face. You struggled to be able to focus, both of them overwhelming you. You could hardly keep up with Liu abusing your cunt, purposefully giving you the roughest fuck he could provide. He wanted to send you home with puffy folds and the inability to walk, with his and Jane's markings showing everyone it was their doing. Jane wanted to use you to the fullest extent, grabbing your breast and toying with your nipples as your tongue teased her entrance. This was your first time pleasing a girl and you couldn't get enough. Jane was coming close to her orgasm first, her moans becoming more jagged and uncontrolled. "Fuck, she's fucking good at this. You think we can keep her?" Jane asked, the cord in her stomach tightening. Liu grinned as he put your legs over his shoulders, somehow fucking deeper into your core.

“I’d like to, i’d get a chance to breed this cunt every day,” Liu replied. He brought his thumb to your clit, drawing circles around the bud as he plowed into you. Jane bit her bottom lip, her thighs squeezing your head as she came closer to her orgasm. “Gonna c-cum,” She warned, her head tilting back as she came on your face. Feeling her cunt flutter around your tongue was addicting, your hands keeping her locked into place. You didn’t stop assaulting her cunt through out her orgasm, the pale killer at a loss for words. “Overstimulating Jane kid? My my you are crazy slut,” Liu chuckled. Jane licked her lips, her sinful noises uncontrollable. She shoved Liu’s hand away from your clit, replacing it with her tongue. Your moans became even louder, Liu’s cock continuing to abuse your cunt as it pleased. The cord in your stomach was tightening, your thighs beginning to tremble as your head began to spin.

“Look at that Jane, got her nice and tremblin’ for us,” Liu snickered. The pale killer grinned at the sight, deciding to graze your clit with her teeth. The sensation sent you over the edge, your body shaking as you came on Liu’s cock. His hips began to stutter, your name falling from his lips as he came deep inside of your cunt. On auto pilot you continued to lap at Jane’s folds, determined to make her cum one last time. She braced herself on your thighs, her sinful noises echoing throughout the library as she came again. She slowly lifted off of your face, her thighs shaky and heart racing. You were dazed to say the very least, watching Liu slowly pull out of you. You could feel his warm cum drip down your cunt, both him and Jane admiring the sight. She licked her lips, settling in between your thighs. “Oh no baby, it looks like you wasted all of Liu’s cum,” She said mockingly. With two fingers she gathered what she could, shoving it back inside of you, causing you to whine.

She hovered over your abused folds, your core throbbing as her sinister eyes met yours.

“Whadda say I get you cleaned up so Liu can give you more? Maybe this time you’ll keep it where it’s supposed to be.”

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #creepypasta lemon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #marble hornets #masky marble hornets #𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta au #freakypasta au #homicidal liu #homicidal liu smut #homicidal liu x reader #homidical liu x you #jane the killer #jane the killer smut #jane the killer x reader #jane the killer x you

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year ago

Text

Every Baby Needs a Daddy

Part 1/?

Modern au rock star!Eddie & sugar baby!Steve; alpha!Eddie/omega!Steve

Fall was in full swing and a chill was officially in the air at all times. Most especially as the sun started to go down. Eddie was warm in his leather jacket but for a brief moment his heart went out to the guy standing outside the bar, arms bare to the wind. He was dressed in a striped polo shirt and jeans, not quite what one might see in a dive bar like this.

But he was probably waiting for someone, so Eddie went inside without another thought, catching just the smallest whiff of his scent as he walked by. An omega. He was definitely waiting for someone then. No one kept their omega idling for long. Once inside, Eddie took his shades off, the lights low enough to keep most from recognizing him.

It helped that he was flying solo tonight. No band members or bodyguards in sight. It was nice to be anonymous sometimes. Not that fame and fortune ever got tiring, it was just a good change of pace. He posted up to the bar, ordered a beer, and got comfortable. He was right in the middle of a conversation with another patron about the current season's fishing prospects when that scent washed over him again something like lavender and petrichor.

Although, when Eddie looked over, that second part might've just been the scent of actual rain. The omega from outside was sitting next to him. The tops of his shoulders and head were damp.

"Was wonderin' when you'd come in and grace us with your presence", the bartender said.

The omega simply rolled his eyes and didn't order anything. Eddie saw him shiver and without thinking, took off his jacket and placed it over his shoulders. He realized what he'd done when the other man froze.

"Sorry you just looked cold and maybe you were but I shouldn't've just done something like that I can-I can take it back", he reached out.

"No", the omega held onto the jacket. "No, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

"I uh, saw you outside. Boyfriend making you wait?" Eddie inwardly cringed. He meant to be more subtle than that. Meant to say something anything else.

"Don't have one." The omega got a strange look as he finally looked Eddie square in the face. "Have I...seen you somewhere before? Sorry", he shook his head and let out a breath of laughter. "What I line. I swear I'm not-I'm not trying to come on to you or anything, I just know I've seen you on like tv or something."

Eddie couldn't judge on pick up lines after what he said about a boyfriend. "You...you might've." He looked around and contemplated for just a second before he continued. "Ever heard of Corroded Coffin?"

"They're a band, right? That's where I know you from?"

Eddie grinned. "Yeah, that's where." He could tell this guy just barely recognized him and that it wasn't an act.

"God, Dustin would kill me. I can hear him now. Sorry, I'm probably not the kind of fan you like running in to."

"I'll take polite conversation over groveling any day. So do you know any of the member's names?"

"I know there's the guy Dustin likes the most because he can play drums and the bass. He admires talented people like that. And he goes on and on about this Eddie guy, but I can never remember which one-you?"

"Me, handsome", Eddie grinned. "And your name?"

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'."

Steve. Eddie had to taste it on his tongue. "Steve. And were you waiting for Dustin before the rain brought you in?"

Steve smiled now, adjusting Eddie's jacket across his shoulders. "No, I wasn't really waiting for anyone. And before you ask, Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." Steve ran a hand through his hair, not so damp anymore after they had been talking.

"You gonna order something or keep taking up space at my bar?", the bartender asked.

"What's your poison, Steve?"

"Oh, I can't pay you back", Steve said.

"Then don't. Order something."

"I mean I really can't pay you back, Eddie. I was hanging around outside because I...because I'm between paychecks right now. And I'm not that kind of omega." Steve's shoulders hunched up in shame and he looked like he was about to remove Eddie's jacket.

"I didn't say you were. You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

"Really?", Steve asked, voice flat in disbelief.

"Really."

Steve turned to the bartender. "Whiskey sour please."

Eddie smiled. "So, what's your opinion on farmed fish versus wild caught?"

---------------------------

Steve had been going through the worst day of his life. Work had been awful and he had wanted to scream. He ran out so quick that he forgot his jacket and was already halfway home when he remembered. He kept going. He wasn't going back there today. He got to his apartment, ready to fill his empty stomach with something only to find he was devoid of food.

Of course. He'd cleaned himself out with his last heat and hadn't gone grocery shopping since. He'd been eating out for the past week. And if he checked his bank account....

$10.43

And pay day wasn't for another three days. Steve was desperate. It was plenty of money if he went to the convenience store right outside his apartment. But the cashier there always gave him odd looks and he just didn't have the energy for it. He contemplated sending someone in to buy his stuff, but he wasn't feeling very trusting right now.

Which was how he ended up at the bar. The dollar store would've been an option last week, but it was a couple of miles away and his car was in the shop. He didn't even know what his plan was. Buy the cheapest drink and fill up on pretzels and nuts? It was why he was standing outside as the sun got lower, just feeling sorry for himself.

He just wished someone would take pity on him. Would see how hard he had been working and told him it was okay, he could take a break now and they'd take care of him.

Hell would probably freeze over first though.

Then the rain started and he couldn't waste time out here any longer. At least inside the bar, it was warm. Steve already wasn't looking forward to the walk home. What if it was still raining? He couldn't afford to get sick right now. He sat at the only empty seat at the bar and thought of the least pathetic way to ask for a cheap drink when something warm came over him.

It smelled of ginger and cinnamon and for a moment, Steve was drowning in it when he heard the owner of the jacket try to apologize for it and then take it back. Instinctively, Steve held onto it tighter.

"No, no, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

The alpha next to him said something about a boyfriend that Steve barely registered but figured out by context what he was asking.

"Don't have one." He shook his head and then actually looked the alpha up and down. Curly hair spilled over his shoulders and he looked smaller without the leather jacket that was currently over his own shoulders. There was something oddly familiar about him. Like he'd seen that face on his social media feed or something.

When Steve asked, he realized he was talking to a guy in Dustin's favorite band. He felt like an idiot. This guy was probably used to starstruck fans bowing at his feet and here Steve was, just treating him like a nobody. But try as he might, Steve couldn't pretend like he was some big deal, even imagining Dustin's lecture on proper celebrity sighting etiquette later didn't change things.

Then the alpha, Eddie his name was Eddie, introduced himself and then asked for his name, tacking on a compliment at the end of the question.

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'." He couldn't help being a little hungry for some positive attention right now.

Then Eddie asked a very unsubtle question about Dustin, insinuating that he was some kind of boyfriend and Steve wanted to laugh. The little kid he had babysat that had been like the pain in the ass brother he never asked for definitely wasn't that. And he let Eddie know that.

"Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." He didn't know why he said it like that. He might as well have spread his legs and held up a sign that said 'open for business'. This guy was a literal rock star, he must have lustful groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. Wording it like that absolutely wasn't Steve intention. Even if his scent was so comforting and intoxicating.

Then the bartender urged them to order something and Steve felt his empty stomach drop. Eddie insisted on buying him a drink and Steve really wished he had the money for it because there was no way he was paying in any other way. And if Eddie was expecting that, he'd just as soon go back out into the rain, leaving the warm jacket behind.

"You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

Steve searched his face for a bluff, any sign of dishonesty. But he saw none.

"Really?"

"Really."

So Steve ordered just as Eddie asked him something about fishing and clearly this night was not going to go the way he planned.

--------------------------

Eddie was halfway through his second drink and knee deep in a conversation about the pros and cons of fishing compared to hunting. Apparently Steve's dad took him out hunting before he presented and afterward, his grandfather took him out on a couple of fishing trips.

"One just seems more fair, is all I'm saying", Steve said, still nursing his first drink. "One has you sneaking up on an unsuspecting animal. The other one you're just luring them. Fish know what they're getting into. Deer don't until they're already in your sights."

"You think very highly of fish intelligence", Eddie noted.

"I once had a year long beef with a friend's pet fish. Long story. But fish are smarter than they look." Then Steve's stomach growled. Very loudly. Embarrassingly loud.

"I don't know about you, but all this fish talk is making me hungry", Eddie said. "Can I buy you dinner?"

"I suppose I've got about twenty bucks worth of more conversation in me", Steve smiled, appreciating what Eddie was offering.

Eddie paid the tab and Steve put his arms into the jacket, then remembered Eddie might want it since it was cold outside. "Did you want-"

"Keep it on. I run hot anyway and we just need to make it to my car." That was a lie, Eddie had the circulation of a failing newspaper but he liked the look of Steve in his jacket too much to give it up. And the rain had stopped so now it was just damp and cold outside.

Steve thought he should feel wary of getting into a car with a stranger, especially a famous one. But he had his phone on him and Eddie was taking him to a place with a lot of people, so it was fine. Eddie put his sunglasses on as they went inside and asked for a table in the back, which the person up front gladly accommodated.

"Not to toot my own horn", Eddie said as they were seated. "But I can never tell when and where I'll get recognized. And I don't want any tabloids tomorrow morning." Because right now, Steve didn't just look like some random guy that Eddie was wining and dining. Right now, he looked like he belonged to Eddie.

"Got any funny stories?", Steve asked.

Eddie grinned and rolled his shoulders as he got comfortable in his seat. "Well, there was the one time I was literally in a tv studio about to be interviewed with the band and someone thought I was the boom guy."

"If I was dressing up on Halloween as a boom guy, I think I'd put on this general look", Steve said, gesturing to Eddie's whole body.

"And there was the time I got recognized while at a fabric store. I'm standing in line, basket full of sewing supplies and a bunch of floral fabrics, and this woman in her sixties asks for my autograph."

"Aren't you in a metal band?"

"Yeah and some of our most hardcore fans are women over 40", Eddie said. "Don't underestimate 'em."

A waiter came by and took their orders and they kept talking. Steve couldn't believe how badly his day had started because now it felt like he was flying above the clouds. Eddie actually seemed interested in what he had to say. And Steve was constantly thrown by the different directions Eddie took the conversation. From fishing, to getting recognized stories, to horrible customers, to the perils of sailing a boat.

"Never?"

"I remember going once as a kid and was scared shitless the whole time", Steve said. "Whoever decided it was okay for me to watch Titanic in kindergarten really messed me up."

"So besides that one time you've never been on a boat?", Eddie asked.

"My parents tried getting me on a yacht once and I started hyperventilating on the dock. I stayed on the boardwalk", Steve said. Just one of the many ways he'd been a disappointment.

After the meal, Eddie offered to drive Steve home. He wanted to. But after drinks and food and talking to Eddie for so long about nothing at all, Steve felt cautious. Had his guard lowered? If he let Eddie see him to his door, would Eddie be expecting something? What made him even more hesitant was that he might let Eddie get away with it.

He was handsome and charming and had alleviated Steve's worries for a few hours. He was even going home with some leftovers in a box. For a second, Steve wondered if food was all it took.

"Hey, look, I understand if you don't want some strange alpha taking you home. What about if I just order you a ride?", Eddie suggested.

"You can take me home", Steve said quickly. "Just don't expect any dessert."

Before leaving, Eddie excused himself to use the restroom and Steve used that opportunity to do something that was probably really stupid. It was certainly pointless. But he could take a risk every now and then. He tore off a piece of the menu and used a pen at the podium up front and that was how Eddie found him.

"Ready to go?"

"Ready", Steve smiled.

The car ride was a little more quiet, both of them digesting both the food and what had happened tonight. Meeting a stranger that you clicked with, it didn't happen every day. Steve gave him his address and Eddie pulled up to the building.

"You should walk me up", Steve said. "Make sure I get there safe."

"Y-yeah, I can do that", Eddie stuttered, struggling with his seatbelt while Steve was already out of the car.

Eddie followed him to his apartment, glad now for the chill outside because otherwise he'd be sweating watching Steve's ass for so long as he walked in front of him.

"Well, this is me", Steve said.

"I had a great time tonight", Eddie said.

Steve laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we come up with anymore first date lines?"

"Hmm, how's about I'd love to do this again soon?", Eddie smiled, leaning in a bit.

"I'd like that." Steve took Eddie's jacket off his shoulders.

"What if I want you to wear it for our next date?", Eddie asked.

"If you want me to wear this, you better scent it properly", Steve goaded.

Eddie pinned him against the door and smashed their mouths together. His jacket was trapped between their bodies. Steve let out a soft sound and brought a hand to Eddie's cheek.

"We can't go on a second date until the first one is over", Steve said when he pulled back. He curled a lock of Eddie's hair around his finger just because he couldn't help it.

"Your number?", Eddie asked, licking at Steve's lips.

"Check your jacket", Steve breathed.

Eddie didn't take his eyes off Steve as he went through his jacket pocket and found what Steve had been scribbling on earlier. It was a ripped piece of the menu. And it had Steve's number on it.

Part 2

If I had a nickel for every time I steddified a Marilyn Monroe song I'd have two nickels.

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #okay maybe dont expect all the parts to be this long tho LOL

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 1 year ago

Text

your lipstick stain is a work of art

Masterlist

Giving Epel, Leona and Ace a DIY Maison Margiela Kiss Shirt

Warnings: Reader is female

I may have gotten a bit carried away in Leona’s part 😅

EPEL FELMIER

After listening to another one of Epel’s rants on Vil’s strict training regimen, you came up with a bright idea. Even though you couldn’t see his face due to the way he was spooning you, you could tell from how his rough country accent would get more and more prominent that he was more than annoyed - and thankfully, you knew the best way to cheer him up.

“Hey, Epel,” you piped up, turning your head to look right at him, effectively cutting through his tirade, “that new makeup set that your Dorm Leader gave you? You haven’t opened it yet, right?”

“Uh no,” he scrunched his nose up in confusion, “A hate the stuff.”

“Then can I have the lipstick, please?”

“Um, sure? I mean, I’m not gonna use it. But why?”

“You’ll see…”

….

The next day, you set your plan into motion. Armed with the sleek black lipstick box that your boyfriend was more than happy to hand over to you and a crisp white shirt you had purchased from Sam’s, you began working on what you supposed was your magnum opus. Once you had finished, ten minutes later, you sent a quick text to Epel, telling him to meet you in your dorm for a ‘surprise’.

When he arrived, he was confused to find you standing at your doorway, dark red tinting your innocent smile, with your hands behind your back.

“For you,” you chirped, still smiling as you handed him a neatly wrapped box.

He took it from you slowly and cautiously, suspicious eyes not leaving your face as he searched for any hint of deception. You’ve never given him any reason to be wary of you, or to think that this might all be a prank, but considering you’re best friends with a certain red haired troublemaker, it didn’t hurt to be heedful.

It was light, very light. He shook it but apart from faint rustling, he couldn’t hear anything that could clue him into what it was. He raised an eyebrow, “what’s in here, doll?”

“You’ll just have to open it and see.”

He ripped open the wrapping paper, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor as he found himself holding a box. Uncovering the lid, he looked down to find a white shirt, carefully folded inside, its collar and entire front covered in lipstick marks - lipstick marks that happen to look suspiciously similar to the shade that you currently wore on your lips right then…

Noticing how his surprise had frozen him, his eyes wise as he appeared entranced at the sight before him, you say, “do you like it? I figured that -”

You didn’t even get to start your explanation, let alone finish it, as you were engulfed by the comforting fragrance of fresh apples and his lips were pressing on yours like his life depended on it and your back was flush against the wall of your entrance passage. One of his hands clutching the box protectively to his chest and the other flat against the wall right next to your head. You close your eyes and melt against him, letting your arms. When the need for air became more and more apparent, he reluctantly separated himself from you, eyes blazing.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

“So does that mean you like it?”

His answering kiss said more than enough.

….

You should’ve known that your little surprise would come back to bite you. As cherubic as your boyfriend appeared to be, he was nothing but a demon underneath those soft lavender locks and wide doe eyes.

You were reminded of this the next morning when he strolled into your shared homeroom class, right in the middle of registration.

“Mornin’ sir, sorry I’m late.”

Beside you, you could hear Ace and Deuce choke on their breaths. The air of the room seemed to be submerged in freezing cold water as you could feel your fellow classmates freeze in their seats, a few of them whisper-shouting expletives of shock. Bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere, you look up from your book, only to feel the rest of the world still around you and all the blood leave your face.

Standing at the entryway of the classroom was Epel Felmier, his posture upright and proud. He had abandoned his blazer, waistcoat and bowtie, and instead of his usual Schoenheit-approved expensive lacy high-collared shirt, he donned your gift, wearing his lipstick kiss stains like badges of honour. He waltzed into class bearing the grin of a cat that got the cream. His smug aura was blinding and his confidence was so corporeal that he appeared to be triple his actual size.

“Mr Felmier,” Professor Crewel sternly asked him, years of teaching seeming to prevent him showing any sign of fluster, his eyes ignited with frustration, “what is the meaning of this?”

“My girl happens to be an artist, Professor,” Epel replied easily, “As a student of the dorm that prides itself in appreciating beauty, it would be rude and becoming to not show off her masterpiece.”

All at once, the entire class turned to look at you, their gazes searing, as you stared straight down at your desk, mentally calculating how hard you’d need to bang your head against it for you to end up in a coma.

Once the Dorm Leader and Vice Dormleader of Pomefiore find out about Epel’s little stunt, you knew that you would be a goner.

“Henchman, what is he talking about?” Grim demanded.

“Wow, Y/N,” Ace looked at you like you had suddenly grown three heads, “didn’t take you to be that type.”

“And what type would that be?” Deuce instantly came to your defence.

“ENOUGH!” Professor Crewel’s pointer smacked down against his desk, effectively silencing everyone yet again, “Mr Felmier, get to your seat at once. I expect to see you in detention this lunch break for violating the dress code. Rest assured, I will be taking this up with your Dorm Leader. And Miss L/N-” he turned to you with his sharp gaze, whilst Epel didn’t even look the slightest bit perturbed at facing his Dorm Leader’s impending wrath, “please stay behind after the bell rings. I have something to discuss with you.”

“Oh~” Ace muttered under his breath, “looks like papa’s angry.”

Needless to say, Epel managed to spend the rest of the day wearing that shirt. Throughout the entire time, you could feel the other students give you looks ranging from puzzled to amused to knowing.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“Hmmm,” Leona sighs, amusement colouring the guttural resonance, as you press another drawn-out kiss under the sharp curve of his jaw, “not that I’m complaining, herbivore, but what’s with the sudden boldness?”

“Well,” you hum languidly, looking at the lipstick stain you left behind - another one to add to the growing collection you had scattered on his cheeks and lower face - moving your mouth lower to his pulse point and letting your lips linger on his skin before flicking your eyes up to look right into darkened green irises, “considering how you always make a big deal over me wearing your scent, I figured that I’d return the favour - let me mark my territory for a change.”

The smugness radiating off of him was palpable and you ignored the deep, satisfied rumble of his chest as you busy yourself with printing your crimson pattern onto the length of his neck, going lower and lower with every press.

To be honest, finding yourself straddling his lap from his seat at the edge of his bed, your arms draped over his shoulders and his hands resting firmly onto your lower back, was not exactly what you expected when you entered the Dorm Leader’s bedroom to wake him up for his Spelldrive Club, but it definitely wasn’t an unwelcome change. And you certainly weren’t lying when you made that jab at his shamelessly obvious leonine instincts - the innate predatory need to broadcast to the entire school that you were not to be messed with - with the way he would nose and nuzzle at your neck until he was satisfied, or drape his too large blazer over your shoulders before sending you off to class. Though, if you were being candid, you had the suspicion that his behaviour was less to do with his species and more to do with Leona himself. After suffering through decades of denial, him finally being given what he covets so freely and willingly results in him wanting nothing to latch on and never let go, to hold the object of his affections in his arms to keep and protect and cherish. Of course, you could never complain as for all that he seemed to take from you, he also gave to you tenfold. It takes a great deal of trust for a lion to bare his neck (‘both literally and figuratively,’ you think as your mouth presses against the skin under his ear) and a lion as proud and closed-off as the second prince of Sunset Savanna? A feat like that was almost inconceivable. Even now, his tail is coiled around your leg like a vine of ivy as he let you do as you pleased with absolutely no questions asked.

When you once again come back up from yet another kiss, Leona uses this opportunity to cup your face with his hand, using just the right amount of pressure to to grip onto your jaw and rub his thumb over your cheek. His eyes, though still gleaming with want, melts into something more soft. As a master of strategic brilliance, his proficiency in self control is beyond admirable yet whenever you’re near, he finds himself unraveling. And he loves every second of it. His drinks up the sight of you: the flush of your cheeks, the black of your eyes, the smudged rouge of your lips that he smears even further with the edge of his thumb.

Oh Great Seven, you're perfect.

“Would you look at that,” he murmurs, “my little herbivore’s got a set of claws on her. We’ll go on then.”

You smile back at him before resuming back to your original position.

You run your right hand down from his shoulders, not stopping your mouth's work as your fingers slide down his chest, swiftly and seamlessly hooking and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. Grabbing onto the lapels of the honey golden material, you deftly push it downwards off of him, exposing the white expanse of his clothed torso as it falls limply onto his elbows. You then kissed the area near his clavicles, where the first button of his shirt had been left undone so that your lipstick stretched over both his tanned chest and the placket. Seeing the glaringly obvious red mark left behind on the pristine white fabric gave you an idea and before you knew it, you pressed dragging kiss after dragging kiss over the collar and upper side of the front of his shirt.

You managed to only get to above his breast pocket before your boyfriend was dragging you back up and collided your lips together at a speed so fast it left you reeling. Before you could fully compute the change in direction, pounding knocks on the door snapped you out of your vertigo.

“OI, BOSS,” came the annoyed yells of Ruggie, “You were supposed to be at the club meeting five minutes ago. Quit foolin’ around with the prefect and get over here!”

Leona let out an irked growl but he made no move to shift his position, even when the incessant knocking failed to cease, “Okay! Okay! I’m coming. Jeez!”

“Wait,” you say as you get off his lap and watch him stand up, lipstick stains and all, pick up his duffle sports bag and head to the door, “are you leaving? Like that?”

“Why not?” was his unbothered reply.

Now that the spell over the room had been successfully broken and clarity and common sense once again seized control from the haze, the full impact of your actions dropped into your stomach like a lead anvil. With it being mid afternoon, the Savanaclaw common area, let alone the corridors of the school, would be in high traffic. The thought of the other students (and seven forbid the teachers) seeing him covered in marks and knowing exactly who put them there fills you with pure mortification, sending blood rushing upwards and making your cheeks burn.

“What’s this?” he turns around and makes his way over to you, towering over you and smirking down at your abashed and frozen figure, eyebrow raised, “where did my brave little herbivore go? Don’t tell me she’s all talk after the show she just put on.”

It’s settled. You can never show your face around NRC again. Your only options now are to beg Malleus to smite you with lightning or to pull an Idia and live the rest of your life as a hermit.

He slowly leans down and places a tender kiss on your forehead, whispering over your skin, “Don’t think that this is over. When I come back, I’ll show you how territory is truly marked. You better be prepared.”

He then saunters off, his bag slung over his shoulder, as he opens the door without a care in the world. You can faintly hear Ruggie’s deep inhale before a “WHAT THE HELL?!” fills your ears.

You should’ve known that you could never one up a predator.

(yes, I know that realistically it would be impossible for one application of lipstick to last that long but let me have this)

ACE TRAPPOLA

It was when you heard the bathroom door slam shut, followed by the sound of your shower head spraying water, that the idea came to you. Knowing Ace, he would spend at least ten minutes in your shower since he liked to make use of the privacy and alone time that Ramshackle provides and his dorm denies. Or at least, that's his go-to excuse when asked why he spends more time sleeping over at your dorm instead of the one he was sorted into.

Sending a playful smile to the door that separated the two of you, you slowly and quietly got out of bed so as to not disturb Grim (who still insisted on sleeping next to you, even after Ace became a staple in your life. You agreed with him, despite Ace’s annoyed refutes, simply stating that Grim and you would sleep together before your relationship and you weren’t planning on stopping that) and made your way to your closet where you kept one of Ace’s school shirts to prepare you for the occasion where he forgets to bring one. You then rustled through your drawers and pulled out a cylindrical stick of lipstick and got to work. Thankfully you had finished applying and kissing his shirt by the time he was done showering and was dressed and ready so when he entered your bedroom and was greeted by the sight of you wearing a mischievous grin, alarm bells started ringing.

“Hey, babe?” he asks with trepidation, “what do you have behind your back?”

“Nothing,” you answer lightly.

“Oh really?” and he swipes behind you but you dodge in the nick of time. Luckily for him, his fine-tuned basketball reflexes put him at an advantage and in no time at all, he’s got you pinned on your bed, with him sitting on top of you, legs straddled on either side of your hips, and you lying beneath him. In his hands he triumphantly holds your surprise. He unfurls the white fabric and holds it out in front of him with - and then almost drops it onto your face as red blooms across his nose and cheeks when he realises what he’s looking at

He looks at the shirt then at you then the shirt and you in quick succession, taking note as to how your lips appear to be the same shade as the marks on his shirt.

Scrambling together and haphazardly picking up what’s left of his bearings, he attempts to throw on his usual cocksure smirk but his still cherry red countenance betrays his flustered visage, “so what’s this, then.”

“A shirt,” you respond.

“Looks like you made a lot of effort with this, sweetheart,” he muses, his eyes bright and jaunty, “are you so obsessed with me that you need to mark me up?”

“I thought it would be a fun prank. But seeing that you don’t seem to like it-” you make a move to grab at it but Ace holds both of your wrists down with one hand.

“Hey, who’s saying I don’t like it?!” he argues defiantly, “this has got to be the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

“Really?” you ask, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Really,” he nods and then looks down at you mischievously, “why don’t I show you how much I like it?”

He then leans down and captures your lips with his and for the nth time of his life, Grim wishes that you were still single.

BONUS FOR ACE BECAUSE I LOVE HIM:

Ace then spends the next ten minutes trying to convince you to do the same to his basketball jersey

You know this boy decided to wear that shirt to the next Unbirthday party, relishing in his dormmates’ stares, the sound of crashing silverware, and the sights of your mortified expression, Cater’s phone recording everything and Riddle’s reddening face.

Poor Deuce goes bright pink and refuses to look at you for the next hour.

Honestly the lecture was so worth it. The collar and heaping and heaping of chores, not so much but he would totally do it again.

Yeah, it turns out that wearing a lipstick stained shirt isn’t technically against the rules and our resident rule-breaker definitely exploits that loophole. You know that rule where you have to wear pink when feeding the flamingos? Nowhere does it say that he’s not allowed to buy a light pink shirt that’s covered in hot pink kiss marks (you went along with this half because you wanted to stop his whining and half because you wanted to mess with his dorm leader for collaring Grim the day before)

Since you forbade him from wearing that shirt in public (for NRC’s collective sanity, Riddle’s vocal cords and Heartslabyul’s auditory abilities) Ace makes it a point to hang up that shirt on the door of his wardrobe in his dormitory so that he can brag about it to ‘the miserable and jealous singles’ he shares his living space with (RIP Deuce and the other Heartslabyul NPCs)

He also bought a few more shirts and begged asked you to do the same to them

That shirt is his new favourite thing of all time. He’s even changed his phone’s wallpaper and his Magicam icon (both of which used to be a selfie of you kissing his cheek as he smiles at the camera) to a mirror selfie of him wearing the shirt and you posing next to him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader #epel felmier x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #fem reader

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