#i get the feeling that when i wake up in six hours i will hate this
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alicewrotethis · 16 hours ago
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𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮﹒
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ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! tsukishima helps out the new neighbor who moved into the apartment next to him, only he didnt know what would come of it  ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip k. tsukishima x chubby!fem!reader  ﹒ ◠ note!!  playlist i listened to while making this ! i do plan on making a part two soon !! ౨  wc!! 4.4k part two !! >>
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Waking up Tsukishima stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars placed above his bed, watching as they faded with the oncoming sun peeking through the blinds. He dreaded mornings, he hated the way his mouth felt dry, how hot he felt under the sheets, and most of all, waking up meant he'd have to deal with a new day of idiots doing things he hated.
Tsukishima hated a lot of things, he hated his old rowdy neighbor, he hated overly cheery people, the feeling of cold coffee in the morning, how polyester felt against his skin, and he especially hated when his neighbors tried to get to know him.
Putting his headphones on he stepped out into the hallway, only to be greeted by the sight of you trying to lift a box into your new apartment.
You decided to save money youd only ask the movers to move your furniture and not your boxes, you were deeply regretting that decision right now. You only had three more boxes to go but the soreness was already catching up to you from the other ten.
The sight was enough to annoy Tsukishima, why didn't you just ask for help instead of trying to do everything yourself, movers are a thing. Did you not have friends that could help you do this? He tried his best to ignore you while locking his door but a part of him felt bad for you, that you couldn't even complete a simple task.
With a sigh, he made his way over and took the box from your hands which startled you.
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"Where do I put it," He cut you off flatly before he could change his mind about helping you.
You were thrown off by his tone, its not like you asked him to help you so why was he so angry?
"In the living room is fine, thank you, sorry," You weren't sure whether you should be apologizing or thanking so you settled on doing both, which just earned another sigh from Tsukishima.
You were surprised by how easily he lifted the rest of the boxes, despite how skinny he looked he was really strong, or maybe you were just really weak, but to save your ego you decided he was just strong.
"Thank you again for helping," You looked up at him as he sat the last box down on the floor. You noticed this guy sighed a lot, it made you feel like you were somehow wasting his time.
Looking down at his watch he realized how much time had passed and he mumbled something under his breath before leaving your apartment.
He didn't even acknowledge your gratitude. The entire encounter had you stunned, was he really going to be your next-door neighbor?
With a content sigh, you plopped down on your couch and instantly relaxed, you had finally finished unpacking every box and arranging your furniture the way you liked it, and it only took you six hours. Despite how tired your body was you wanted to do something to show your grumpy neighbor how thankful you were, and you were gonna do it in the only way you knew how to show thanks.
Baking. But first, you would have to go grocery shopping.
Heading toward the elevator at the end of the hall the door opened to reveal your tall, grumpy neighbor, still wearing the same frown he left in. Only it seemed to deepen at the sight of you.
You smiled at him as he exited the elevator. Tsukishima prayed you wouldn't try to talk to him, but of course, like every other time, his prayer wasn't heard.
"Hey, neighbor! I never got your name," You beamed up at him, looking at him now he was freakishly tall, his hair was disheveled, and he looked sweaty, it was almost enough to intimidate you.
"If you know it, you'll say it," He flatly said, walking past you to his apartment door.
You didn't know what you did to possibly receive this kind of treatment, it wasn't even your first day living here and this guy acted like he hated you.
"What did I do to you?" You asked, slightly irritated by his ego.
He simply ignored your question and entered his apartment, promptly closing the door.
It's not like Tsukishima intended to be rude to you, well, he partially did. But there was truth to his words. If you knew his name then you'd assume he was your friend and you'd try and talk to him, and he just didn't want that. His apartment was a place where he didn't have to talk to anyone and he intended to keep it that way. He couldn't understand why you didn't get the hint.
You weren't gonna let his rude attitude stop you from baking him something, it only made you more motivated to bring a smile to his frowny face.
You weren't sure what you'd bake him so you decided to go with your own favorite dish, strawberry shortcake.
Walking down the aisles you stared at everything in your cart, you had gotten some regular food items you'd need for the next few week's meals, as well as some snacks and drinks you enjoyed. Now all that's left is to get the ingredients for the desert you'd be making your neighbor.
Looking up at the signs above the aisles you searched for where the flower would be. Once you found it you walked over, only to see the one and only standing there in front of the vanilla bottles staring intently at them. You wondered what he could be doing there.
"Hey, you," You greeted, resting your arms on the cart handle as you walked over.
Tsukishima didn't need to look to see who the voice belonged to, why were you everywhere he went?
You noticed he looked much cleaner now, and his blond hair was much more neat.
"What're you doing? Did the vanilla bottles look at you the wrong way?" You joked, stopping right in front of him. Your eyes shifted between him and the bottles, trying to figure out what he was doing.
He didn't answer you, in hopes you'd get the hint this time but that never worked out in the past. Your joke only further annoyed him.
You came to the only reasonable explanation hed be standing here staring for so long at the bottles, he didn't know the difference.
"What flavor were you looking for?" You asked, trying to sound as nonjudgemental as you could, not wanting to annoy him any further.
"What?" He asked confused.
"Well, Bourbon, or Madagascar, vanilla has a much stronger taste," You explained, pointing to the bottle you were speaking about. "While Mexican vanilla has more of a spice and smokey tone to its flavoring, and Tahitian vanilla is the opposite, its fruity and floral, almost cherry-like." You spoke softly as he nodded along.
"It's all based on your preference and what you're going to be cooking." You finished off, looking up at him.
He only nodded as he reached for the Bourbon vanilla bottle and placed it in his shopping basket.
"Thanks," He muttered out. He wondered how you knew so much about vanilla flavors, they all tasted the same to him.
"Youre welcome, can I get your name now?"
He paused for a moment before turning to you. "No,"
You let out a breath of defeat as you grabbed your own bottle, but you knew it's fine, you'd get his name one way or another, you're sure of it.
Placing your shopping bags on your counter you sighed, thankful they had an elevator or else you would've passed out walking the heavy bags up five flights of stairs.
Putting away the groceries you left out the required ingredients needed to make the strawberry shortcake.
Placing the strawberries in a bowl you layered them with sugar and gave it a light mix, only wanting to coat the strawberries in the sugar. Once that was done you began on the small cake and placed it into the oven.
An hour passed and if was finally done, it was the most beautiful thing you'd laid eyes on, it almost brought a tear to your eye. And to think the frowny, grumpy, rude, annoyed neighbor would have the chance to eat it brought a smile to your face.
Placing the treat into a small box you picked up at the store you carefully made your way to your neighbor's door and gave it a knock.
You stood there for a few moments before you heard muffled voices and the unlock of a door.
Tsukishima peeked his head out and saw you before fully opening the door.
He didn't say anything and instead raised his eyebrow, waiting for you to say what you needed.
"Sorry if I disturbed you, but I baked you a shortcake! I wasn't sure what you liked so I made you something I liked, as a thanks," You explained as well as telling him your name and handing over the box which he took and peeked into. If you were looking close enough you could see a glimmer of happiness in his eyes.
"Hm," He let out.
"Do you not-"
"Tsukishima Kei," He cut you off, something he seemed to enjoy doing.
You were stunned, "Tsukishima?" You tested the way it rolled off your tongue.
"Dont wear it out, is that all?"
"So does this mean we are friends?" You asked cheerfully, earning a sigh from him.
"No, now goodbye," He said before closing the door.
It wasn't a smile, but you learned his name so you counted that as a win.
Tsukishima walked into his kitchen and grabbed a fork, immediately ready to try his favorite dessert.
"Who was that?" Tsukishimas girlfriend, Etsuko, asked from the living room.
"My neighbor brought me some strawberry shortcake," He said, hoping she wouldn't make an argument over this like she always did, it was something he disliked, and didn't see the point in meaningless arguments but it was a habit she had recently picked up on, the latest one being about his volleyball teams manager.
"Oh? The new girl?" Her voice was laced with jealousy, something he could easily pick up on with how often she spoke in a tone like that.
"Yeah, I helped her move her boxes," He explained while biting into the shortcake, his tastebuds almost exploding with how flavorful it was, and in the privacy of his own kitchen, he cracked a small smile at your dish.
"Why'd you do that?" She asked, now moving to the kitchen to get a better view of Tsukishima, his smile quickly fading.
"Why does it matter?" He asked, annoyance visible on his face and voice.
She shrugged, "Just doesn't seem like something you'd do,"
He let out a sigh while picking up another bite with his fork, "Yeah well I did it Etsuko,"
"Jeez, what's your problem?"
It was as if she knew just how to push Tsukishimas buttons like she was destined to be here and get on his nerves, and she wasn't always like this but lately, it was like her sole purpose was to interrogate and bother him.
Instead of giving in to her, Tsukishima decided to remain quiet and enjoy the shortcake, hoping she'd give up and go back to her original spot on the couch.
The entire night you couldn't wipe the smile off your face, despite what Tsukishima said, you considered him your friend.
Waking up the sunbeams shone across your face, welcoming you to another day filled with new possibilities, you loved mornings, it was like a second chance, any mistakes you made yesterday were, well, yesterday's news. You loved how the sun looked as it rose above the buildings, it was a beautiful sight to wake up to.
Looking at the clock it read six o'clock, you needed to be at work in an hour, it would be your first day back in a week do to moving and you were extremely excited to be back and baking, maybe you'd bring your new friend a sweet treat home.
Opening your door you were met with the sight of Tsukishima locking his door, he had a plain white shirt on and a pair of blue jeans while he carried a plain hoodie on his side, as well as his usual headphones around his neck.
"Tsukishima!" You cheerfully greeted him as you walked up to him, you couldn't hear it but you knew he sighed, he always did that to you, so much so you've gotten used to it.
"Why're you up so early," He asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question in his voice while you walked to the elevator together.
"Well, today I start work again at the bakery two blocks from here! I'm super excited about it, I've been missing work lately." You explained.
Tsukishima found your enthusiasm for things quite annoying, he couldn't understand how you could be so excited and cheerful this early in the morning.
"What do you have planned today, tsuki?" You beamed, pressing the floor button on the elevator.
Tsukishima would never admit it but he did like the way you said his nickname, it was different from how everyone else said it, and it was innocent in a way.
"College classes, and practice," He dully said, watching the doors close while he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Practice?"
"Volleyball practice,"
You made a sound of excitement and admiration, "Youre a volleyball player? Thats so cool!" You said, looking up at him.
"It's not that cool," He sneered.
"Well, it makes sense! Youre like crazy tall and strong,"
Your compliments were almost enough to bring a blush to his cheeks, and he was thankful the elevator doors opened before you could get any more innocent compliments in.
"You know it's gonna be cold today, right?" He asked, looking your outfit up and down.
"It is?" You asked worriedly, in your rush to get ready you completely forgot to check the weather, and you still had to walk to work in the cold.
"Couldn't even check the weather," He sighed, shoving his hoodie into your hands.
"Tsuki.." You nervously said.
"Dont thank me, just dont let it happen again," He sternly said.
"No, it's just," You paused, looking down embarrassed.
"What?" He asked, raising his brow at your form. It was unlike you to be shy and nervous.
You took a deep breath, "What if it doesn't fit," You meekly said.
That thought hadn't crossed Tsukishimas mind, mostly because he didn't care about that sort of thing.
"It will," He simply stated, motioning for you to put it on.
This was a side of Tsukishima you weren't used to, you had expected him to laugh at your embarrassment, or just ignore you, but it gave you enough will to pull the hoodie over your head and he was right, it did in fact fit. His scent invaded your being, and a small blush rose to your cheeks.
Tsukishima hoped you didn't see his own blush at the sight of you in his hoodie. He didn't know why he was being so nice to you right now, but hearing you say it wouldn't fit irked something inside of him.
"Thanks, Tsuki," You looked up at him with a soft smile.
"Whatever," He turned away from you and walked out of the entrance to the complex, placing his headphones on his ears and taking out his phone.
You smiled the entire way to the bakery, with a warm feeling in your stomach with every inhale of Tsukishimas scent.
You felt disappointment for the first time when you approached your work because entering meant you'd have to take off the hoodie since you didn't want to get it covered in batter and flour.
Walking to the back towards the employee lockers you greeted the familiar faces of your employees with a cheery smile, disappointment soon being washed over with glee as you carefully hanged the hoodie in your locker and tied your apron around your waist ready to begin the day.
You always loved this job since the moment you got it, it truly was a blessing to you, you get paid for doing things you love and you get to meet all different kinds of people.
You noticed a girl standing by the counter and rushed over.
"Hello!" You greeted her with a bright smile, excited to meet a new person, you hadn't seen her here before.
"So, youre Tsukishimas new neighbor?"
The question had caught you off guard and a confused look appeared on your face, "Yeah?" You replied though it sounded more like a question than an answer.
"Well, he's my boyfriend," She stated.
You raised your eyebrow at her, what kind of reaction was she trying to get out of you?
"Good for you?"
"You should hear the things he's been saying about you," She sneered.
You didn't like where this conversation was going, and it angered you that you could tell where it'd go.
You didn't like feeling angry, in fact, it was one of the few things you hated, because when you felt angry you also felt sad, and sadness usually led to slumps where you didn't feel like doing anything and where life feels meaningless.
"If you aren't gonna get anything then please leave," You tried to hang onto the last string of cheerfulness you had, the last string of patience with her. You didn't want to be angry at her since she was clearly someone special to Tsukishima and you'd hate to genuinely upset him.
"Just know he isn't who you may think he is," She said before turning and taking her leave.
You weren't sure what to make of the encounter, you didn't know if you should be mad or upset, and you knew Tsukishima could be rude but would he really talk bad about you behind your back? Is it even worth asking? Maybe you'd just take the hint and leave him alone like he always wanted you to, and looking back now you should've seen it sooner, all his one-worded replies and the way he addressed you with such coldness. You'd just give him what he wanted.
The day came and went and it was time for you to head back home, only this time Tsukishima's hoodie was clenched in your fist, and the emotions you'd been repressing all day bubbled back up like soda, you understood you hadn't known him for long but you considered him a friend and you thought he did the same in his own antisocial rude way.
You were so lost in thought you didn't even care how harsh the cold was nipping at your skin and you only realized when you entered the warm lobby of your apartment, that the warmth instantly engulfed you as you shuddered away the cold. You silently prayed that you wouldn't cross paths with Tsukishima, but your prayers were cut short when you heard a voice from behind you, and it didn't take much to guess who it was.
You were surprised that he was the one greeting you, but you wouldn't give in, this is what he wanted. As soon as you entered the elevator you started spamming the close door button but in two strides he was already in, damn him and those long legs.
Tsukishima instantly caught on to the attitude change towards himself. Usually, you'd be chatting his ear off, talking about everything and anything and he'd be there, listening to every word of it while acting like he wasn't. Like how two days ago while walking to the elevator you were talking about the nature documentaries you watched and how they always made you cry but you could never turn them off. But now you were quiet, and looking everywhere but him, he didn't like it one bit. In fact, he hated it.
"Did you burn a bread roll or something?" He sneered, trying to gauge any sort of reaction out of you, a smile, a laugh, a look, anything.
Well he did get a reaction, you shoved his hoodie into his chest and sped off to your door, slamming it shut before he could even get a word in.
He sighed and headed for his, disappointment spreading through his body when his eyes met his girlfriends.
Tsukishima softly closed the door and kicked off his shoes, his mind still on you and the way you completely ignored him earlier. He tried racking his brain on what he could've possibly done to upset you other than ignore you, be rude, give you the cold shoulder, be dry. But he thought you understood and didn't care about all that stuff, though he could admit maybe he took the whole act a bit too far at times. He started to feel like a jerk, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he should apologize to you. The only thing is he wasn't sure how to or where to start.
It had been a week since you last spoke to Tsukishima, and it had been five days since you last stood in the same elevator, he was partially okay with you not speaking to him but purposefully avoiding him? He decided today was the day he'd try and make things right with you. Even he couldn't believe his thoughts right now, never in a million years did he think he'd be going out of his way to try and get someone's forgiveness. But the days spent without you were quiet and dull, he no longer liked waking up, and he no longer liked the way the sun glared in his glasses, in fact, he found it once again absurd.
Tsukishima missed having you as a friend.
He missed your rambles, he missed being able to talk about his day in short sentences, and he missed you and the feelings you erupted in him.
And as soon as he awoke he found himself walking to your apartment, he wasn't sure what he was gonna say or how hed say it, or even how you replied but he knew he needed to do something if he was gonna keep you in his life.
He knocked twice, and after a few moments, you appeared, dressed in black pajama shorts that rode up a bit too high and a crop top. He could tell he had woken you up by the way you rubbed your eyes and how your hair was going in all directions. But even now, the sight of you made his heart rate increase.
You were stunned to see Tsukishima in your doorway, he looked like he hadnt had a good nights sleep.
"Yeah?" You asked, looking up at him.
"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked outright. You were surprised he even noticed you were intentionally avoiding him.
"Isn't that what you want?" Your voice cracked, you were trying your hardest to remain standing strong in front of him, not wanting to reveal that you genuinely miss talking to him.
"No, it's not," He spoke softly, looking you in your eyes to scan your reactions, to see if you showed any signs of wanting him to leave.
"Well, that's not what your actions say,"
"I know, and I apologize for giving you the wrong impression"
You stayed silent for a while, taking in the moment and trying to find the words to say to him.
"Then why did your girlfriend come to my job and tell me you've been saying all kinds of stuff?" You felt tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you internally cursed yourself for letting your facade slip.
Tsukishima felt anger bubble inside of him, of course, Etsuko had something to do with this, his days could've been filled with you, but they weren't, and of course, it was her fault.
"Listen, Tsuki, I appreciate you apologizing but,"
"She is lying, i haven't said anything bad about you, and I couldn't even if I wanted to,"
You didn't understand what he meant by even if he wanted to, the whole situation was confusing to you, why would she lie about something like that? What could she possibly gain by saying that to you? All sorts of questions were floating around your head and Tsukishima seemed to notice that.
"I want us to be friends again," He said, letting a small smile onto his face as he watched your eyes brighten. He was glad, the sight of you on the brink of tears brought a sort of sadness to his core.
"Tsuki," You paused, "Did you just say what I think you just said?"
He let out his usual sigh, "I'm not gonna say it again,"
"Just one more time?" You beamed, "I'll never ask again," You stepped closer to him, looking up with a pleading look, how could he ever say no? Well, he could and he did.
"No,"
You let out a sound of defeat. You both stood there for a few silent moments, just staring at each other with small smiles. Tsukishima was glad to be back on good terms with you, he knew he'd enjoy the mornings again, and he'd enjoy seeing the sun peek through the blinds because that meant hed get to talk to you for another day, hed get to see and hear you talk about the most random things, you'd once again be the highlight of his day.
"Wanna do something?"
"Like what?" You asked, raising a brow.
"Show me that show you were talking about a week ago, Euphoria? If you aren't too busy,"
You let out a shriek of happiness and pulled him inside by his shirt and dragged him to your dimly lit living room.
You plopped down on the couch and motioned for him to do the same as you turned on the TV. You were happy he apologized despite it taking him a week to do so, but you were glad to have your friend back, you had missed your mostly one-sided conversations, but you knew he was listening to you despite his actions saying otherwise.
You had gotten ten minutes into the first episode and there was already an intimate scene, and even though you both were already silent, the silence seemed to thicken as you both refused to look anywhere but the screen, if you moved would it show that you were uncomfortable? You probably should've warned him about how many intimate scenes were in this show. The closeness of Tsukishima did nothing to calm the awkwardness.
You reached for the remote to try and skip ahead but your hand was stopped by his, and you quickly turned to look at him, a bright blush adorning your cheeks at the contact.
Tsukishima wasnt one to like things, in fact, he hated most things, but you were certainly not one of them.
"I can't stay away from you," He said softly.
Your heart was racing, you didn't know what he meant by that or what way he meant it.
"Then dont,"
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navi. tags. rules. © 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !
part two >>
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bluebelledmoon · 5 months ago
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personal space for @inukag-week :)
((op has not finished watching inuyasha so no spoilers please :)!))
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sadesluvr · 6 months ago
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Beautiful Liar
After you boyfriend Randy is tragically murdered, Billy is determined to be the shoulder you cry on.
A/N: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Please read the tags, and minors DNI!
Word count: 3.6K
Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Dacryphilia / Manipulation / Grief / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Loss of virginity / Corruption kink / Gaslighting / Misogyny / Reader has a vagina / Fingering
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Randy Meeks was dead, and there was no way to change that.  
He’d been murdered, brutally; his body in tatters, bloody mess left on the stockroom floor of the video store he’d worked at. Police had said it was a homicide, just another in a series of attacks by the infamous masked ‘Ghostface’ killer that had been running around Woodsboro. The whole town, your friend group included, had been speculating the person – or people’s - identity, wondering if they were male or female, old or young, insider or outsider...either way, the sole question was why. Why Woodsboro? Why now? Why your friends?  
The simple answer – in Randy’s case at least – was that you were living in a classic horror movie, in which none of you would get out of alive unless you followed the rules, (which was the sole reason why you hadn’t slept with him during your relationship) but that particular answer was far from satisfying to you. First Sidney’s mother had disappeared, next was Casey and her boyfriend, soon followed by Sidney’s father, Tatum, Randy and Sidney herself, leaving only you to remain. You were, as Randy would dub it, ‘the final girl’. 
And you hated it. Randy painted these women as strong, brave, heroic, even, but you were far from it; instead worn down and shattered by the massacre of those closest to you over the past six months. There was a reason that the term was only reserved for the movies; it was too difficult, maybe even downright impossible to be able to fight back in real life, especially when it had happened so constantly and so close to home. There were few words you had to speak anymore, and when you did you found that they were only able to materialise around Billy Loomis. 
Billy, and his friend Stu Macher were the only of those that remained. Randy would’ve chalked it down to it being intentional, but the only pattern you could see was that they were killing ‘boy-girl-boy-girl’, which meant either of the two could’ve been next. 
So, imagine your shock – and horror – when Stu had gone missing, leaving nothing but a bloodied shoe in his wake. It was the only death of your friends that you hadn’t been to; no morgue visits or ceremonies, with Billy choosing to spend the day with you after he claimed that the Macher’s had just wanted family at his funeral. You would’ve been hurt, but considering you’d spent the past few months feeling like a curse, you were rather happy to keep your distance. 
“Thanks for staying with me…” you sighed, rubbing your red eyes. You’d been crying over Randy again, and although Billy wasn’t someone who liked dealing with emotions, he’d been a shoulder to cry on – literally – his silence giving you space to vent. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess…” 
“I think you’re taking this too hard,” he said simply, watching you intently as you tried to compose yourself. “None of this is your fault. There are psychos everywhere.” 
“Yeah, but why us? How am I still here?” you gasped, the question blatantly rhetorical.  
“Luck. And skill. You’ve been in the right place at the right time,” he sniffed. “Maybe the killer doesn’t want you dead...” 
“Oh, that’s comforting.” You scoffed, dabbing at your nose with a tissue. He didn’t reply, but he tapped his finger impatiently along the edge of the sofa as his eyes roamed your body.  
You used to be such a sweet little thing; always dolled up in your signature clothes and makeup, but now you were timid, a recluse, even, walking around in Randy’s old shirts and running on two hours of sleep (if that). He couldn’t argue – solely because he’d been the one to cause this - but in time he’d get you back to the way you were. In fact, he might’ve even enjoyed this broken version of you even more; with swollen lips, a melancholy glow, and a psyche that was desperate for affection that only your former boyfriend could’ve given to you. 
Killing Randy had been exhilarating. It’d been all too easy, the boy practically boasted about his job (and therefore his schedule), and then it had been down to hiding in the stock room on his late shift, only to lunge at him from the shadows, pointed blade digging in and ravaging his pale flesh, all the while he screamed – even cried – your name. That was your knight in shining armour, a guy who’d failed to follow the rules he swore to live by. Pathetic. 
He’d shown him his face right before he died, remembering the way his eyes, though dull and rubber like a fish, had seemingly shone with recognition. He’d put the pieces together, simply far too late. 
“Don’t worry, Randy,” he’d said. “I’ll take good care of your little girlfriend.” 
Even in his moribund state, the nerd had known what he’d meant, his eyes flickering with worry just as the life had snapped out of him, the whole situation comically cinematic. All that was next was to kill Sidney, the girl that Randy adored before you’d even transferred to Woodsboro. It was simple; Sidney was collateral, and you were a spoil of war. And there was no one left to save you. 
“I think you should go outside,” Billy said bluntly. “Being inside all day isn’t good for your head.” 
You sighed and wiped your face, glancing around your living room. Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d opened the curtains; much less when was the last time you’d gotten off the couch. The television was always on, and you’d done nothing but aimlessly flick through the channels, both avoiding yet drawing yourself to the news, hoping there’d be an update on the killer. It struck you as odd that it had all gone silent. 
“Like...Where?” you said incredulously, and Billy resisted the urge to sigh. 
“We could go to the movies,” he suggested. “It’ll be on me. I’ll even let you watch those terrible romance ones with the sappy endings.” 
You seemed to perk up at this, glancing over at the time on the clock across the room. It was 6:15, and if you showered quick enough (and found some clean, unwrinkled clothes) you could make it to a random seven o’clock screening. It was kind enough that Billy was here with you, but offering to take you to a romance film took selfishness out of the question – he was a true friend, treating you in the same way he had Sidney.
You, like many others, had joked about how perfect he was, often wishing that Randy had been the same way. He’d been nice, without a doubt, but sometimes he was erratic and clingy (some would say annoying), whereas Billy was far more level-headed and relaxed, evident through his constant support. It was time for you to smile, even if it would be temporary. 
“Okay...” You whispered with a weak smile, standing to your feet. “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna freshen up.”   
Billy’s deep brown eyes followed your figure as you walked past him and disappeared up the stairs. Sitting for a moment, he stared at the blaring screen of the television before shutting it off. Considering your state, he’d been surprised that it had been that easy, but apparently all it took for a girl to come around was the promise of a free outing and cliche love stories. The silence was telling – your parents weren’t around – and he pondered your reaction to his arrival in your bedroom...for company, of course. 
Pushing himself up from the couch, he followed you, his shoes barely making a noise as he made his way up the steps before stopping at your bedroom door, being a gentleman and taking his shoes off before he entered. A crack of light from the doorway of the bathroom told him that it was occupied, and so he took it as a signal to enter your threshold, wasting no time in rummaging through your drawers.  
He ran his lithe fingers over the outlines of your bra, following the soft cotton and curved shape as he imagined holding your tits in his hands, groping and tugging on them as you rode his cock, screaming and moaning his name so loudly that you forgot all about your idiot boyfriend.
It was the same with your panties, except he wanted to cut them off you, to watch as your legs trembled from trying to avoid the blade; only to get nipped, ruby rivulets trickling down your thighs. He’d rub it, smear the substance across your skin as he tried to soothe you, your fluids coating his skin and fingernails, only to been mixed with the translucent l cream of your orgasm – over and over and over again.  
Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he waited for you to come in, raising his brows at your squeal upon seeing him. You were only in a dressing gown, with your bra peeking out of the sides of the fluffy material. If he wasn’t already hard, he certainly was now. 
“Billy!” You gasped. “I told you to wait downstairs!” 
“I got bored,” he shrugged. “I wanted to see more of you.” 
You gave him a pointed look as you scraped your earrings off the dresser, clipping them on as you paced around the room in search of an outfit.  
“You know me,” you chuckled. “We’ve been friends for a year.” 
“Yeah, but do you ever really know someone?” He said softly, his gaze locked on your own as he cocked his head, blinking slowly at your confused expression. There was something unsettling about his tone, and you couldn’t help but think back to one of Randy’s many pained rants: “Never trust anyone. Everyone’s a suspect, even the love interest!” Did he know something you didn’t, or was he just being his typical, elusive self?
“I mean, come on now, Y/N. Look around. There’s no one left…just us. I think it’s time we got to know each-other.” 
Pulling on some pants under your gown, you frowned. 
“What’re you saying?” 
“We should be closer than we are,” he said softly, reaching out a hand to fiddle with the strap of your gown leisurely, his eye contact fleeting, but coy. “How else are we going to get through this?” 
Your eyes widened, and you gave Billy a once over as you contemplated the implications of his words. He’d never really been that much of the touchy type up until now, and it couldn’t be coincidental that all of a sudden he’d become so close to you. Perhaps it was the stress; the trauma of losing his friends that made him feel like he needed to fill the void. Or maybe it was genuine, that he wanted to stick through this real-life tragedy with you. Why else would he stay the long nights and weekends, watching TV with you or offering you his snacks?  
“Y-You’re a good friend,” you stammered. “Really. But I just don’t know if I can let anyone close to me anymore. What if you get killed!?” You choked, and Billy pulled you to the side of him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck as you sobbed. Tracing small circles on your back, he let you fix yourself before he pulled away, staring into your eyes as he spoke. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “I promise. And you know why?” 
You shook your head. 
“I spoke to Randy a few days before he died. He was  paranoid – you know how he was – I guess you could say that he had a sense he was going to die…” Billy paused, eyes flickering with recognition before he swallowed and continued. “…He said that if anything were to happen to him, that I should be the one to take care of you. He knew how close you were with Sidney, and she’d have wanted the same.” 
Shakily, your lips parted as you took a breath. Sidney, like many others, had always gushed about how sweet Billy was – particularly how patient he’d been when it’d come to having sex. It would only be logical for them to say that, given the fact that Stu was the only other candidate. No one else would’ve stuck beside you, putting up with your weeks of moping and incessant crying. It was only right that you started giving him some thanks. After all, he was all you had left. 
“O-okay,” you smiled softly before wrinkling your nose. You were so close to Billy that strands of his hair was grazing against your face, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne – icy, yet comforting. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I guess I got so wrapped up in thinking about Randy that I haven’t really been grateful to you. Come on, let’s go out —“ 
“This isn’t about the movies.” Billy interjected, his brows slightly  wrinkled. “This is about you. You’re a girl, and you have needs.”  
You froze, always worried it would come to this.  
“I can’t let you do that,” you said affirmatively. “You were with Sidney, she was my friend —“ 
“She’s gone now,” he said, zero inklings of emotion detected within his voice. “Just like Randy’s gone. I have needs too, you know. You’re not really being a good friend by ignoring them.” 
“Billy…” 
“You mean a lot to me,” he continued, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it in a slow but enticing manner. “I think about you a lot. I want to do more to help you…but you’re not letting me.” 
You knew it was wrong to go there, but part of you knew that he had a point. There was no use in festering in misery; Randy, Sidney and the rest of your friends were gone for good, and there was ultimately nothing that would change that. All you could do was focus on what you had now, and that was Billy; patient, willing, and ready to carry out the wishes of your deceased friends. You just had to let him in. 
Silently, you nodded, and he took that as confirmation to kiss you. His lips were warm and wanting, but certainly felt unfamiliar, and you found that it took you a while to find a suitable rhythm. Billy wasted no time in pushing you back onto the bed, kissing down your neck as he straddled you, the faint outline of his hardening cock brushing against your covered leg. His hands lingered on the tie of your robe, glancing down at it with a smirk before pulling it undone, exposing your semi-nude torso to the cool air of the bedroom. 
Your heart leapt out of your chest; not because what you were doing was taboo, but because you’d never done it before. You were about to lose your virginity to your dead friend’s boyfriend – something that your cloudy mind couldn’t comprehend.  
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaving love bits on your chest as his fingers slipped under your bra and pinching and rubbing at the surrounding skin and sensitive nipples. “Randy didn’t know what he had…” 
Letting out a moan, you allowed yourself to be consumed by him, pushing off his open button-up so that he was left in his white shirt. He didn’t look much, but his arms were surprisingly muscular, and you found yourself tracing along the outlines of his skin, inadvertently pulling him closer.  
Billy pulled away, a smirk visible on his face as he unzipped his pants, sliding his trousers to his ankles before readjusting himself on the bed. Taking your hand, he guided you off the bed and brought you to your feet. 
“Strip for me,” he lulled, watching you intently for a reaction. “I want to see how pretty you are…” 
Nervously, you peeled the robe off your body, dropping it to the floor at the edge of your bed before undoing your pants, all under the watchful, jaded eyes of Billy Loomis. As cliched as it sounded, you felt like a bride on her wedding night, nerves released by Billy’s soothing coos and gentle touch. He patted the bed – yours, which you seemed to forget – and you laid down, taking laboured breaths as his brown locks disappeared between your thighs, skin breaking into goosebumps as he slid your panties down your legs. 
“You’re wet...” he hummed, placing his index and middle together before rubbing your hood in small, deliberate circles. “I think you wanted me more than you let on.” 
“B-Billy...” you gasped, shutting your eyes at the pleasurable sensation. “I-I’ve never...” 
“Shh, I know, I know...” he whispered, his touch becoming rougher as he prodded and spread your lips apart, admiring your insides like some sort of fucked-up doctor. “ ‘M gonna make you feel good, but you need a little practise first...” 
Billy began to finger you, withdrawing his digits every so often to admire the way the slickness of your arousal coated his skin, glossy and translucent, the feeling second only to the blood of his victims on his skin. As he curled his fingers within you, he found that you began to shake and clench; your orgasm abruptly evident.
As much as he wanted to indulge in it, he wanted to savour you – and so pulled his fingers out, earning a breathy whine from you. Hastily, he lowered his boxers, his erect cock jutting out like a weapon as he stalked you, pushing your body deep into the pillows as he straddled you. 
“D-Do you have protection...?” you whispered meekly, and Billy could’ve came right there and then at the sight of you, lips parted and begging to be kissed as you gazed at him through your lashes.  
“No...” he replied, watching the fear wash over your face. “But it’s ok. I was safe with Sidney, and you’ve never had sex, right? That means you’re good.” 
Biting your lip, you debated protesting, but found it wasn't worth it. You wanted him – needed this – and you were already sinning by fucking your dead friends’ boyfriend. What did unprotected sex have on that? 
“You’re right,” you said with a small smile, puffing your cheeks as you prepared for him to enter you. “Be gentle...” 
“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” he said firmly, eyes unblinking as he adjusted himself at your entrance, the edge of his cock grazing against your folds. “We’re in this together, remember?” 
You knew he meant it when he kissed you upon his penetration, his lips swallowing your whine as he entered you. He wasn’t by any means a stallion – simply averaged sized – but he filled you almost instantly, a dull ache forming around your walls as he began to thrust his hips up into you. If this was what sex was like; rhythmic, passionate, if not a little sharp-edged, then you were partially sad that you hadn’t got to experience it with Randy...the remaining deeply selfish part of you glad that it was with Billy. 
He seemed to know every part of you, where to kiss, where to rub, where to hold – when to slow down and when to quicken, all adorned with his sweet nothings that he spoke into your neck, ever so occasionally peering up at you through his lashes, his exact thoughts elusive to you. He cared, right? Why else would he hold you so close to him, kiss your collarbone, rub and soothe your thighs as he rolled his hips deeper, your pelvises slapping against each other in the heat of the moment? 
“You’re so tight,” he moaned as your lips gripped his bare shaft. “So good to me...Taking me so well...” 
You whined, the sound getting lost under the slight creaking of the bed and the rustle of your bedsheets, tightening your arms around his neck as you drew him closer into you and running a hand through his hair. Billy was thankful, thankful that you couldn’t see his shit-eating smirk from this position onto of you, but much more for Randy; as if he hadn’t had been such a paranoid nerd, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to imprint himself on you forever. 
His strokes were deep and fulfilling, the head of his cock beginning to buck up into your g-spot, pleasure made more overwhelming as he reached down again to rub at your clit. It was dark, somewhat twisted, but it was perfect; and you could actually feel your anxieties disappear entirely. Who was Randy? Had you ever really loved him? 
Even amongst your white haze as you got closer to the heat of your orgasm, you were able to make out the sound of a lock opening. Your eyes shot open, trying to piece together footsteps and visible signs of entry – Billy had been the only one to come in, perhaps he’d forgotten to lock the door? Or maybe it was your parents, home early from their outing? Worse, maybe it was the killer, dead on arrival like the Grim Reaper as soon as you’d gone against the rules and had sex. 
“Billy —“ you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as his cock hit your sensitive spot. “The door…I-I think someone’s here…” 
“Shh, you’re okay…” he murmured into your ear. “I didn’t hear anything…” 
A plunging, shaking feeling consumed you as you came, half-lidded eyes making out the shape of a gloved hand and knife creeping from behind the door. Instinctively, you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came from it. All you could do was lie there, throat parched and the air knocked out of your lungs as you watched the figure enter the room; not hooded, masked or even bloody – but taking the shape and form of a tall, lanky boy with blonde hair. 
Stu was alive, and Billy had lied to you. 
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cupidsdolll · 19 days ago
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The Feeling Came Late (I’m Still Glad I Met You)
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pairings: grumpy!college student! Harry x fem! sunshine!reader
summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?
overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.
chapter 2/? (wc: 3.4k)
masterlist
001 | 01 | 02
- - - -
Chapter 2: Surprise, Surprise
Harry wakes up to the sound of his phone dinging and he grumbles as he sits up and stretches. He looks around and stops his tired gaze at the small window next to his bed. It's dark with just a hint of sunlight beginning to cut through the glass windows, this is definitely not the scenery he's used to when he awakes from his slumber. Groggily he grabs his phone with one hand and rubs his left eye with the other, turns on the phone and hisses as he squints. 
He quickly turns the brightness of the screen down to a manageable setting and mumbles under his breath when he sees it's a little past six in the morning. 
"Who the fuck is awake right now and why are they trying to talk to me. Someone better be fucking dying." The message is from an unknown number, the numbers staring at him tauntingly. 
///
Unknown: hey. it's y/n. i got your number from principal Oscar. lmk whenever works best for you and i'll do my best to arrange my schedule otherwise! :)
— — — 
He grumbles once more about the timing of the text and stares at the screen trying to think of an appropriate response. He could and absolutely wants to just leave her on read and never talk to her again. That seems like the most appropriate since she interrupted his sleep, why is she even up this early? But maybe he should show a sliver of compassion and reply to the text briefly before going back to sleep. 
He decides on not texting back, simply because all this thinking of replying, responses and times is making his head hurt, so he sets his phone back onto the small wooden table beside his bed and clambers back into the warm cocoon of his blankets. Wrapping himself  in the thick blanket, he sighs blissfully as his head relaxes into the soft cushiony bed. He begins to close his eyes and go back to sleep, the pleasant warm feeling of sleep very quickly approaching him. 
Just as soon as he gets comfortable and almost falls asleep, his phone dings once more. He grumbles as he throws the blanket off of him and grabs his phone once again. The same numbers teasing him as another text comes through. 
///
Unknown: this is harry right? i'm so sorry if this isn't! 
////
He rolls his eyes as he mumbles, his fingers typing away on the keyboard as he sends his response. 
Harry: Yes, it's me. In case you haven't noticed, it's five in the morning. I was asleep.
///
He gets a response almost immediately, as if she was staying in the chat waiting for a response.
Unknown: yes i know! why are you still sleep? i like to get my day started early!
Harry: Because no one in their right mind is up this early.
Unknown: sorry for waking you! just wanted to see what times and days work best for you. :)
Harry: Give me a couple hours.
Unknown: okay! have a good nap! :)
— — — 
He mumbles again as he sets his phone grumpily back on the table, wrapping himself back into his blanket just to find it's not as warm anymore. He mutters under his breath, silently complaining about her up so early and choosing to annoy him so early as well, and to top it off she made him lose the warmth of his blankets. He wraps himself up in the blanket and lays back down, resting his head on the soft pillow as he closes his eyes. 
Opening his eyes once more a couple hours later, he gets up and stretches once again. The muscles in his back pops smoothly and he groans softly. He gets out of his bed and quickly makes his bed,  wrinkles sit in the middle of the blanket as he sets his pillow on top, but he can’t bring himself to care. He feels much better after getting another couple hours of sleep. 
He heads into the bathroom and relieves his bladder, sighing in relief as it empties. Shutting the lid down, he flushes the toilet and heads to the sink so he can wash his hands. After he's finished, he brushes his hair and puts it in a man bun.
Walking over to the small dresser where he keeps his clothes, he opens his needed drawers and pulls out an outfit. Settling on a white Rolling Stones t-shirt and some black skinny jeans, he gets dressed and makes sure he puts on his signature rings. Once he's done with that, he sprays his Tom Ford cologne and grabs his phone, responding to the very few notifications he does have and stares at Y/N's name in his message list. 
Her simple text stares at him, somehow politely demanding a response from a couple hours ago. He huffs and mutters 'fucks sake' under his breath as he clicks on it and begins to type out his response.
///
Harry: I'm available anytime
/// 
Not too long after, just long enough for him to set his phone in his pocket and slip on his brown Chelsea boots, his phone dings. 
///
Y/N: okay! um how about tomorrow around 6 at the library?
— — — 
Harry laughs dryly at her enthusiasm as he sends a plain thumbs up, the yellow emoji a stark contrast in the very one sided text conversation, and afterwards he heads out the small bedroom in his dorm and heads to the front door. He passes the various pictures of his roommate and his girlfriend and a couple of pictures showcasing his orange kitten, Delilah, in various moments. She was wrapped up in a soft towel from the day Harry brought her home, and other moments where he thought she looked pretty and decided to capture the moment. 
All the pictures are neatly hung in a long cardboard frame, colorful tacks adding a pop of color to the otherwise boring wall of pictures. The small hallway leads to a basic living room, a simple gray futon sits alongside the cream colored wall with a modern artistic sketch hanging above it, a dark brown bookshelf holding all their movies and the very few books and textbooks they happen to own is placed next to the futon, and a small dresser underneath a decently sized tv. 
In the corner of the living room area sits a small gray cat bed and Delilah lays there peacefully sleeping in a little ball, her tail twitching occasionally. The ends of Harry's lips begin to curl upwards at the sight as he slowly walks over to the small dresser designated just for her. He silently opens the top drawer and opens the small can containing her food. The smell quickly floods his nose and he grimaces as he walks over to her food bowl and pouring it in there, silently gagging as it squelches into the bowl. 
He throws away the now empty can in the small trash can and grabs her water bowl walking over to the dresser once again and fills it with a small water bottle sitting in the top drawer. He sets it down beside the food one carefully because he doesn't feel like cleaning up water right now and walks back to the dresser. He opens the second one and grabs a few of her favorite toys and sets them under the coffee table in the living room, allowing her something to do while he's gone and turns on the tv. Quickly pulling up her favorite tv show - Animal Planet - he walks over to her and very gently rubs the top of her head. He coos at her softly to coax the sleepy kitten awake. 
Delilah stretches and yawns as she opens her eyes, focusing on Harry crouching above her, she lets out a tired but happy meow as she nuzzles her face into Harry's hand. 
"Good morning, sweet girl. I gotta get to school but you got everything set up for you, just how you like. I love you and I'll be back soon." He says with a small laugh as he gives the small kitten a couple extra pets and gets back up, stretching slightly as he heads to the door, making sure to grab his signature leather jacket from the futon as he opens the door and heads out. 
— — — 
It doesn't take him long to head to the campus thanks to his dorm being a short drive from the campus. He parks his car in an empty space nearest the school and he sits in the car after he turns it off. He watches her as she walks to the bike rack, her long hair flowing gently behind her as she walks due to the wind blowing. She's dressed in an olive green sweater and dark blue Levi pants that flare at the end, she'd pair it with some white Nike Air Forces, a medium sized white tote bag and a matching olive green thin belt, he can see the small shimmer of her jewelry shine when the sun hits it as she ties her bike to the small rack. 
He turns the key to shut off his car and opens the door, slowly stepping outside the car as he puts on his jacket. He closes the door with a soft slam and locks it, the beep alerting the girl as she turns around, her hair briefly swishing in front of her face as she turns. He watches as she frowns in anticipation of a snarky remark but returns to normal when it doesn't happen. He slowly makes his way to the entrance, purposely avoiding eye contact with her as he grows closer. He hopes she gets the hint to leave him the hell alone, and wants to keep their interactions to an absolute minimum. 
"Hey!" He hears her voice ring out from behind her but his pace doesn't falter, he actually starts walking just a tad bit faster in an attempt to get inside before she reaches him. He makes it to the top of the steps before he feels a soft hand grip his shoulder and a tug, signaling him to turn around. He slowly turns around, face deadpanned and he takes a deep breath. 
"What?" 
"Any place specific you want to meet in the library?" She asks softly and he shakes his head as he turns around swiftly and starts his journey into the school once again. He can feel her presence behind him and his frown begins to form. 
He chooses to ignore her as they walk, the chatter of the other students in the hall filling their ears as they continue. One of Harry's friends, Alex, walks up to Harry with a big smile as he pays his shoulder and glares at Y/N. 
"How you doin' Haz?" He asks and Harry's frown only deepens at the unwanted conversation. 
"Not now Alex." He shakes his head as he heads to his locker. He can hear Alex scoff as he walks away but he can still feel her presence behind him. 
He scoffs lightly as he gets to his locker, one ringed hand reaching up to twist the little knob to the correct numbers and opens the door. He quickly grabs a textbook and slams it shut and he walks away, leaving a hurt and confused Y/N standing at the locker. 
— — — 
She can't help but frown at Harry's more than usual grumpy behavior as she heads to her own locker, true enough she was the main reason why he's so grumpy but honestly how was she to know he’d still be sleeping? It’s not her fault that she just loves helping people! She should know better than to assume they'd be friends simply because she's tutoring him, but she assumed they'd at least be better than this. She hoped he would be somewhat tolerable, a very silly thought of hers because when is he ever tolerable? She doesn’t know how it came to be this way. She can remember a time where the two of them were cordial and even dared to say the best of friends, but then something changed and she wishes she knew what it was.
She wishes she could just go back in time and watch the two of them under a microscope to see what went wrong, to figure out why he hates her. She misses him terribly, but that’s kept locked away in a box of her feelings and emotions never to be seen again alongside her favorite childhood memories. 
She huffs in frustration when she can't get the lock to open, her combination not seeming to work as she twists and twists. She swears it's the right one, so she tries once more and she's met with once again the lock not opening. 
"Come on!" She huffs as she stares at the lock intently. Beginning to think that maybe she changed the lock combination, she tries a different sequence of the same numbers and after a couple of tries she finally hears the satisfying click as the lock opens. 
She quickly grabs the textbooks for her first two classes and shuts it gently as she walks to her first class, her tote bag gently bouncing off her hip as she walks. She just barely makes it to her first class before the teacher closes the door, her hand pushing on the tall wooden door as she cries out 'wait please!' The door opens and she sees the teacher smile softly as he lets her in. 
"Just in time Y/N, have a seat." He says and she nods silently, with her head down she quietly makes her way over to an empty seat towards the back of the class. Grabbing her notebook and a pen out of her bag, she begins to write down the title of the notes she's gonna be taking and pulls her assignment due from the front of the notebook as well. 
— — — 
Time seems to fly in front of her eyes, the day taking not nearly as long as it usually feels like as she gets released from her last class of the day. With a smile on her face, she plugs her earbuds in her phone as she walks through the halls, stopping briefly to answer any questions from her classmates and to wave goodbye to her teachers. 
She spots Harry talking to a pretty brunette, one of more popular girls who also happens to be on the cheerleading team she thinks, her lips pulled back into a dazzling smile as she twirls her hair around her finger as she speaks. Hesitantly, she makes her way over and taps him on the shoulder, meekly saying 'excuse me' and she's greeted with a very nasty glare from the girl. 
"Um, we're talking." The girl says with a frown on her face. Y/N can't help the flush of embarrassment that begins to heat her cheeks up as she looks down. 
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to remind Harry of the library. It's at six, if you can't make it or gonna be late, just let me know." Y/N's voice comes out quietly as she speaks, her hands subconsciously moving to her front as she begins to play with her fingers. 
Harry lets out a very unenthusiastic 'uh huh' as his eyes never leave the brunette's and he begins to talk to her once more, completely ignoring the other girl behind him as the brunette smirks and plays with the collar of his t-shirt. When she realizes that he isn't paying attention, she frowns slightly before making her way out of the school building as music plays in her ears. 
She mumbles curses to Harry under her breath as she unties her bike and sets the cord in her bag. Hopping on her bike, she begins her ride back to her apartment. She smiles as she passes the cars and families out and about, their joy and love radiating off of them making her smile and aw. As she continues biking, she makes a quick stop at her favorite flower shop, propping her bike against the side of the store and she quickly walks in. The smell of all the flowers welcome her warmly as well as the bright smile of the lady standing behind the counter. 
"Y/N! So good to see you! How've you been?" She asks and Y/N smiles as she walks up to the counter. 
"Hi Tameka! I'm good, how are you?" Y/N asks and Tameka responds with great enthusiasm as she starts telling the younger girl about her kids and how the store's been getting along. 
Y/N loves coming to this flower shop because no matter how long she stays away, she's always greeted with a warm welcome, one that reminds her of her mother at a young age. The shop gives her a sense of family no matter what happens, and she's never been more grateful. After Tameka finishes rambling on about her life, she turns her attention to the younger girl as she props her head onto folded manicured hands and flashes her a warm smile. 
"Here to get the usuals? Anything new to update me on chica?" Y/N shakes her head with a small laugh as she leans on the counter. 
"Of course, you know I never stray. And no new updates unless you count having to tutor the boy who seems to hate my existence an update." She says and sighs, the thought of having to do so is a big damper on her happiness and a heavy weight on her heart — it’s not that she doesn’t want to tutor him, she just knows that it’ll be like pulling teeth with him. She’ll have to pry answers out of him and will more than likely be the worst tutoring session ever, she’ll be exhausted afterwards. 
She can't help but to wonder how it'll go, will he be the same as he is in school? Is he gonna spend the whole time mocking her and poking fun (he most definitely will, she’s sure of it. He won’t turn down an opportunity to annoy her and get under her skin), or will he be kind and listen to her (maybe in another universe, some alternate reality where they’re cordial. She’s silly to even think this was a suggestion, she should know him by now), asking questions whenever he's confused? Will the session end in a screaming match as he tests her limits or will it be calm as he complies and agrees to her help. 
As she pays for her flowers, she can't help but to ask herself those questions. She knows wondering won't help determine the outcome of the coming day, but she knows there's only one way to find out.
She makes her way home, her bouquet of flowers sitting neatly in her tote bag as she rides along. She takes pleasure in the feeling of the wind brushing against her skin and flowing through her hair as she pedals along. The sound of people chatting on the sidewalks and the sound of cars whirring by her and honking at others fill her ear and she just smiles. She enjoys the sound of her community while others might say that it’s too loud and there’s no peace in all of the noise, she says otherwise. She can’t imagine her city in silence, to not listen to the usual sound because it’s all she knows. 
She makes it home and parks her bike beside her apartment, tying it up and making it inside the building. She heads down the short hall and to her door, unlocking it and walks inside and smiles at the sereneness of her own space. She locks the door behind her and sits down on the couch with her notebook and her favorite pen, thinking of the best way to carry out these sessions with Harry. What would be the best approach and everything to do with it. She wants to make sure that he understands that she’s not going to allow him to just walk all over her and cheat his way through. 
She wants to actually help him, not just give him what he wants; she wants to give him what he needs and what he needs is someone to take time out of their day and work with him, cater the worksheets and lessons to how he learns best so he can actually learn the information. She can only hope for the best as she begins to write out a plan for the next few weeks, she just knows that she’s going to need all the luck dealing with Harry.
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reidsdimples · 6 months ago
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Feverish- 2
Spencer Reid x Reader
18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI‼️
Part 1
Spencer’s inhibitions are still lowered which causes him to escalate things in the shower
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You startle awake as Spencer flips over the side of your bed and pukes. You’re still pinned beneath him, his full weight on your legs. So you scrunch your nose and attempt to hold his hair back.
An awful groan escapes him along with a mumbled apology.
“I’m going to move you off of me so I don’t throw up on you and make this worse,” you say gently and help him roll to the other side of the bed.
At least he got into the small trash can you placed there.
Once you dispose of it you return to check on him, the two of you only having been asleep for about four hours. The sun had set and you figured you should attempt to give him more medicine.
Fumbling around in your cabinet you locate some drowsy flu and cold medicine that you didn’t realize you had.
You whip up some soup and grab him a Gatorade before padding back into your bedroom. He’s approached that level if misery where all he can do is lay there and groan in pain. It was awful to watch, Spencer was usually so calm and put together. In the six months you dated, you never saw him sick.
His eyes flutter open when you sit next to him and he pulls himself to a sitting position.
“You have to try to eat something so I can give you the medicine. I put ginger in the soup to help your stomach,” he nods. His hands are shaking so you opt to spoon feed him slowly.
Between bites you feel his forehead to discover he’s still burning up. You frown at him sympathetically. He definitely had the same awful flu you had two weeks ago. No doubt about it.
“Water, the sports drink will dehydrate me more without water in my system,” he says when you try to give him the Gatorade.
“Okay,” you bring his glass of water to his lips and he takes it down greedily. His hands linger on yours against the glass for a moment and he meets your eyes.
“Here,” you hand him the dose of the liquid medicine.
He scoots away from it.
“No pills? I hate the liquid,” he whines.
“No, you have to take this now. I’ll get you the pills tomorrow,” you grab his chin and turn his face back towards the medicine. “Don’t make me force this down your throat. I will,” you threaten.
He knows you’re serious, so he takes it throws it down before chasing it with water.
He only took a few bites of soup but it would have to do.
You help him back under the covers and place a thermometer under his tongue. You needed a true reading to monitor his progress.
“103.2 F,” you tell him. “You’re bad off.”
He nods in agreement.
“Drink this,” you give him orange juice with an immune boosting shot in it. “After this you can go back to sleep,” you promise him.
He looks so tired, so sick, that it makes your heart hurt.
“Stay with me,” he pleads.
“I’m not going anywhere Spence,” you place a hand on his face and brush his hair behind his ear. He gives you a thankful smile. “Just keep your tissues on your side of the bed,” you grimace at his now growing pile.
He smiles softly before groaning like it hurts.
-
He wakes some hours later with at least some clarity in his eyes. He’s on his face when he lifts up to look at you. He smiles sheepishly before groaning and rolling onto his back.
“You smell awful, you were sweating morning your sleep,” you place the book in your lap and look down at him.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
You make him take his temperature.
“101.8 F, better,” you show him.
He throws his head back on the headboard and runs his hands through his long hair with a sigh.
You look for signs about whether or not he remembers kissing you so desperately the day before. He gives none.
“Let’s get you in the shower,” you pop up.
He doesn’t protest and he’s able to walk, albeit slowly to the bathroom on his own. He sways as if his head spins but he’s able to brush his teeth. You’re grateful for that.
He leans with he’s head on the wall as he scrubs his tongue, clearly getting up is taking a toll on him.
“I made sure it’s not too warm,” you tell him after turning on the shower head.
He looks between you and the shower expectantly.
“What?” You ask.
“Aren’t you going to leave so I can take these off?” He asks, some humor in his tone.
“I’m not leaving you to your own devices. I’ve seen you naked, it’s fine Spencer,” you reason with him.
“But-“
“Not up for debate, you’re not falling and dying in my shower. Now come on,” you tug his arm towards you.
He doesn’t catch himself as quickly as he should be able to and barrels into you. You’re pinned between him and the wall when he places his hands on the wall on either side of your head to stead himself.
His mouth is partially open, he has no choice since he can’t breathe out of his nose. But somehow that mixed with his shirtlessness and messy hair is driving you crazy.
You hook your index fingers into the front of his boxers, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to break his eye contact.
“Lose these and get in the shower, Spence,” you whisper. He nods and obeys.
You move into the shower behind him. He’s leaning on the wall with his arms holding him up, his head dropped between his them as the water flushes all of his hair over his face. You take in the muscles in his lean back, his ass…
Then he turns to you. His eyes are heavy again, his breathing labored. He looks like hell.
You bring a new loofah between you and add soap. He reaches for it but you snatch it away. His eyes can’t help but to move over your wet naked body. You begin to move it over his chest, making slow circles until the soap lathers. You get his arms and move to his stomach. He seems to be getting closer to you.
He grabs your hand with the loofah before you trail down further, his eyes wide. You can see his arousal between his legs despite him feeling terrible.
You let him take the loofah and he turns you around and pulls you close. He wraps his arms around you. His tall lean frame, partially depending on you to keep him standing.
He squeezes out the loofah over your breasts and massages it down between them, his other hand gripping your left tit. His strong arms are wrapped around you as his hands start to cover you in soap. He’s slow and teasing about it.
You can feel his cock pressing upwards against your ass, a small groan escaping him.
You turn to him and make him take a step backward so that the water runs over you both. He watches you, unsure.
You pour more body wash in your hand and place in flat against his stomach, letting it run down over his hardened cock. You push him to lean against the wall. The coldness of the stone causes him to wince but he doesn’t care.
“Ah,” he moans when you wrap your hand around him.
“Would this make you feel better?” You whisper. He swallows hard and nods frantically.
“I need you so bad,” he whimpers.
You pump him slowly, dragging your hand and tightening it around him.
He leans forward on a moan when you speed up, he drops his head to the crook of your neck and begins kissing and sucking on your skin.
It doesn’t slow you down, you tighten and twist your hand just how he likes it until his leaning on you with his hands gripping your ass. The water falls over both of you, heating your body.
He twitches and moans, his knees getting weaker in his sickened state.
“Please,” he whines and takes your face in his hands.
His forehead is against yours as he pants for air.
“Ah,” he groans.
He drops his head to kiss your breasts as his cock begins to pulse. He shudders and you pump him harder until his hot cum is shooting outward. He grips your hips and slowly lowers himself to his knees before you.
He presses his face against your stomach, kissing and moaning, worshiping you. You take in the sight of him. Half out of it, half panting with satisfaction.
Unexpectedly though, he keeps kissing and sucking on your skin until his mouth trails down to your pussy. He looks up at you through the splashing water as if pleading to taste you. You nod.
He’s not gentle about it and he doesn’t take his time. Probably because he feels awful. But you don’t mind.
He leans his face up and burries it into you, his tongue trailing between your folds. He latches onto your pussy and sucks and licks frantically. You push your hands into his hair, spreading your legs to angel him just right.
“Yes baby,” you moan.
This beautiful man on his knees before you looked like a god with his soaked mane of hair. He was breathtaking as his eyes fluttered closed and he devoured you. He moaned into your pussy as he enjoyed feasting on everything you had to offer.
His nails dug into the flesh of your ass, urging you to grind on his face.
You oblige, screaming out at the intense sensation.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant as you ride his face. He continues sucking on your clit and pushing his tongue into your entrance.
It’s so good, your legs start to shake and the world blurs. He doesn’t let up and you think he must be exhausted. But he wants to please you. He’s always been like that.
“Spencer!” You scream as your orgasm ravishes you. Your pussy clenches and pulses as he sucks down your cum. It’s like he’s starving the way he does it.
You try to focus your eyes on him, you can’t believe he just did that.
He pulls his knees out from under him and sits back against the shower wall.
He closes eyes as and you can see them shifting behind his eyelids.
“Are you okay?” You crouch down in front of him.
“Dizzy,” he whispers.
“You shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t have,” you start to apologize. He shushes you.
“Don’t say that,” he urges weakly and shivers.
“Oh Spence,” you feel so bad. You weren’t even thinking. Clearly he wasn’t either.
You wrap a bath towel around him and help him up.
Once he’s dried off you get him back into bed and add an extra layer of blankets. Even in his sickened daze his eyes follow you around the room because you’re still naked.
“Here,” you make him take the medicine he hates along with a fever reducer.
“No more of that,” you gesture at the bathroom.
“What about when I’m better?” He grins. Your cheeks turn red and you can’t help but to smile.
“Just sleep, Spencer,” you lean over and kiss his forehead.
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (six)
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pairing: rafe x pogue!reader; word count: 5.5k requested here; (one); (two); (three); (four); (five)
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Being with Rafe was surprisingly easy, like slipping into a routine you didn’t know you’d been craving. It wasn’t over-the-top or dramatic; it was just normal—in the way that holding hands and sharing glances in crowded classrooms felt like the most natural thing in the world.
The guy who used to get under your skin, drive you absolutely crazy, and somehow, now, was making you melt with just one look? You didn’t know when your life turned into a rom-com, but you were pretty sure Rafe missed the part where he was supposed to stop being so intense the second the credits rolled. 
But, no. He was always like this now. Kisses in between classes, pulling you into him like he’d forget how to breathe if you stepped too far away. And you were starting to crave it. The constant closeness, the feel of his hands on you.
Today, it was more of the same—Rafe slipping into the seat next to you during a boring afternoon lecture, sliding his arm around you like it was his assigned spot. Like he belonged there. You had barely settled in before he was leaning in close, his mouth brushing your temple in a casual, absentminded kiss.
“Didn’t you just see me twenty minutes ago?” you teased, glancing up at him.
“Yeah, and?” He didn’t bother to look up at the professor as he trailed his fingers down your arm, sending goosebumps in their wake.
“And,” you whispered, fighting to keep your smile in check, “maybe we should try to pay attention?”
He glanced down at you, that half-smirk playing on his lips. “You really wanna listen to this guy talk about the English 18th-century economic policies, or do you wanna tell me what you’re doing after class?”
“Rafe—”
“—Because I’m thinking we grab coffee and maybe—”
“Shhh!” you hissed, your cheeks heating when you realized a few people in front of you were turning around to look. You shot him a pointed look, mouthing, You’re going to get us kicked out.
He just grinned wider, completely unbothered, and leaned back in his seat, looking more amused than ever. “Fine, fine,” he whispered. “But only ‘cause you’re cute when you’re pretending to be all serious.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, settling back against him instead. It should have felt weird, being so openly affectionate like this, but somehow, it didn’t. You knew people were watching, whispering even—Is that really Rafe with her? Didn’t they used to, like, hate each other?—but he made it all feel so… normal. 
He still made it impossible to focus, not dropping his touch from your skin.
“Are you even listening?”
“Not even a little.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the grin threatening to break free. “You’re going to fail if you keep staring at me.”
He leaned closer, “Worth it. Plus I got a hot tutor to help me out.”
There it was again—that fluttery feeling in your stomach, the one that always seemed to come alive whenever he looked at you like that. You shifted in your seat, your leg brushing against his, and he tightened his grip on you, almost as if he knew what he was doing to you.
“Pay attention, Cameron.”
“Make me,” he shot back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“Rafe,” you looked around to make sure no one was watching. But of course, a few heads were already turned in your direction. People had started noticing the two of you—how he was always leaning closer, how his arm would always be slung around your shoulders whenever you sat together.
Just as you were about to elbow him the professor started handing back quizzes—the ones you both knew were worth 50% of your eventual final grade.
You were nervous, but not just for yourself. You knew how much these grades meant to Rafe. He wasn’t one to show it, but you could tell. He used to barely scrape by with D’s before you two started your deal. You’d spent so many nights going over chapters together, sometimes until the early hours of the morning, and you were hoping it all paid off. The professor reached your row, placing the papers face down on the desk in front of you and Rafe. You glanced at yours first—an A, not bad. But when you turned your head to peek at his, you froze.
B.
Rafe had gotten a B.
You almost let out an excited squeal right there in the middle of the lecture hall but stopped yourself just in time. You turned to him, eyes wide, a huge grin spreading across your face. “Rafe, look!”
He was already smirking, casually flipping his paper back over, but you could tell he was trying to hide how pleased he was. “Yeah, I saw,” he said, all laid-back like it was no big deal. But the spark in his eyes said otherwise.
“B!” you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, but you couldn’t help it. “You’ve never gotten a B in this class!”
Last quiz he’d gotten a C, which was better... but a B in the last three quizzes? That was something.
“Thanks for the reminder,” he teased, nudging you with his shoulder, “Told you I’d get it together.”
“I told you you’d get it together,” you corrected.
He rolled his eyes, but you could see he was proud of himself. “And I told you I got a pretty good tutor, huh?”
You nudged him playfully. “Pretty good? You mean the best.”
You felt your heart swell at the look on his face. It wasn’t just about the grade—it was about the effort, the late-night study sessions, and the fact that he did care, even if he pretended not to. 
But his touching was even worse between classes.
The second the lecture ended, he was on his feet, gathering his stuff with that effortless, laid-back confidence that made it seem like he wasn’t in a rush, even though you knew he couldn’t wait to get out of there.
“Ready?” He didn’t bother waiting for you to answer, just slipped his hand into yours and pulled you gently toward the door.
Out in the hallway, he barely gave you a second to find your footing before pulling you in close, his hand lifting to cradle your face as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Your pulse jumped, and you felt the familiar rush of heat rise to your cheeks, even though you should be used to it by now.
“Rafe,” you mumbled, feeling a little sheepish when he finally pulled back.
“What?” He gave you an innocent look that didn’t match the way his eyes were sparkling. “Can’t a guy kiss his soon-to-be- girlfriend after suffering through a lecture?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look stern but failing miserably. “You know half the hallway is staring, right?”
“Let them.” He shrugged nonchalantly, lacing his fingers with yours like it was no big deal. Like being with you like this—in front of everyone—wasn’t the huge deal it still felt like to you. 
The moment you paused by your locker, his hands were on your waist, spinning you to face him.
“Finally,” he murmured, dipping his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that was too much tongue and entirely too distracting for a busy hallway.
“Cameron,” you mumbled against his mouth, your fingers curling around his biceps. “We’re gonna be late.”
He hummed, lips not leaving yours. “Worth it,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your back, pressing you closer. “Always worth it.”
Your heart did a little flip, but you pulled back just enough to give him a look. “You said that in class, too.”
He grinned, looking completely unrepentant. “Yeah, and I meant it then, too.”
Your cheeks heated, and you shot him a half-hearted glare, hoping it covered up the way your purse sped up at the way he was looking at you.
The days blended together like that—Rafe’s hand on you somewhere always—whether it was his arm slung around your waist as you walked to class, his thumb brushing little circles on your knee when you were sitting across from each other in the library, or just… holding your hand, like he needed to feel your skin against his.
You were starting to forget what it felt like to not have him touching you. And maybe that should have scared you a little, but it didn’t. It was nice, easy. The way he’d press a kiss to your forehead before slipping into his own class, whisper something low and teasing when he caught you blushing, smirking at the way you tried to hide your smile.
After a long afternoon of half-hearted studying—thanks to Rafe’s wandering hands and that stupidly distracting grin—you found yourself back in your dorm room, tucked against him on your tiny bed, with a movie you weren’t even pretending to watch playing softly in the background.
It was cozy, almost too cozy. You’d ditched your jeans for a pair of shorts and borrowed one of his hoodies that still smelled faintly like him, and Rafe was propped up against the headboard, his legs tangled with yours. The smell of popcorn lingered in the air, but the bowl had been abandoned on your desk, long forgotten as you focused on something infinitely better.
Him.
You were still breathless from the last round of his kisses—his lips trailing down your neck, his thumb grazing against the line of your jaw as if he were memorizing it. And then his mouth had moved lower, his teeth nipping at your collarbone until you’d let out an embarrassingly needy sound that had him pulling back, smirking.
“What?” you’d huffed, feeling your cheeks flush.
“Nothing,” he’d murmured, “Just love seeing you like this.”
Like this?
You didn’t even know what he meant. All you knew was that he hadn’t stopped looking at you like that since, his eyes following every curve of your face, lingering on the way your lips parted as you tried to get your breathing under control.
“Focus,” you’d said, half-laughing, half-gasping. “We’re supposed to be studying.”
“Pretty sure I was learning a lot,” he’d countered as he ran a hand down your side, “Like how you’re really ticklish right here.” 
And then his fingers had dug into your side, making you squirm and giggle, batting his hand away until you’d ended up tangled even closer together, his mouth pressing quick kisses along your cheek until you finally gave in, letting him kiss you again.
That’s how you’d ended up here now—his arm slung around your shoulders, his other hand playing with the ends of your hair as you half-watched whatever movie he’d picked. His chest was warm and solid against your back, and every now and then, he’d press a kiss to your hair.
“You’re gonna miss the whole movie,” he teased lightly, his voice rumbling against your ear.
“You’re the one who distracted me,” you pointed out, turning slightly to give him a look. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Hmm, fair,” he agreed, grinning lazily as his fingers traced random patterns on your thigh. “But I think I’d rather kiss you anyway.”
 “You’re ridiculous.”
“Only for you,” And there it was again—that look, the one that made your breath hitch and your heart do a funny little backflip.
It was so easy to lose track of time like this—getting lost in him, the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you, the warmth of his hand against your skin. You didn’t know how long you lay there, just soaking it all in, until he moved a little, turning slightly so he was looking right at you.
“Hey,” he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Hey,” you whispered back, blinking up at him. He hesitated for a second and then he took a deep breath, looking way too serious for what you’d expected on a lazy night like this.
“Can I ask you something?” his thumb brushed softly against your cheek.
“Yeah, of course.”
“I, um…” He paused, looking almost… nervous? But that didn’t make sense. This was Rafe Cameron—the guy who never seemed fazed by anything. “I was thinking… I mean, we’ve been… you know.”
You blinked at him, trying to understand where he was going with this. “Rafe, you’re not making any sense.”
He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe himself. 
“Right, sorry.” He looked down for a second, then met your eyes again, “I was just wondering if… if you’d want to be my girlfriend. Officially.”
Rafe? Nervous? Asking if you’d want to be his girlfriend? As if that wasn’t already painfully obvious.
You pressed your lips together, trying not to burst into a cackle as you pretended to think it over. “Hmmm…” you started slowly, watching the way his brow furrowed, like he was already second-guessing himself. “I dunno…”
He blinked, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Wait, unless you don’t want to? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry—like, we don’t have to—”
“Rafe.” You cut him off, watching as his eyes darted between yours, full-on panicking now.
“I just thought… you know, since we’re always hanging out… and the kisses, I mean—unless you think they’re weird? I’m sorry, stop looking at me like that, please.”
You finally let out the laugh you’d been holding in.
“Really? You’re laughing at me now?”
“Cameron,” you said through a chuckle, “I’m already basically your girlfriend. You didn’t have to ask.”
He raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. “I’m being a gentleman here, okay? I—I know, okay? I know this isn’t the way people usually do it,” he rambled, suddenly looking adorably flustered. “I was going to do some big, stupid gesture, maybe show up with flowers or whatever, but… I thought about it, and I know you hate surprises, so I didn’t want to make a whole thing out of it and freak you out.” He paused, taking another deep breath, his hand tightening slightly around yours. “But I couldn’t wait anymore,” he admitted. “I just— I want it to be real. I want to be able to call you mine. For real.”
This wasn’t a casual question. This wasn’t some flirty comment in the hallway, something he could brush off if you didn’t react the way he wanted. He was serious. Completely, terrifyingly serious.
 “You really—?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, leaning forward, “I really want this. You and me. No more of this ‘are-they-or-aren’t-they’ crap.”
The smile that spread across your face was blinding, “Okay. I’ll say yes for your sake.”
And then, he was kissing you—hard and fast and completely giddy, like he couldn’t believe it.
“God, you’re gonna make me crazy,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands cradling your face like he couldn’t get close enough. “My girl. You’re actually my girl.”
The second his lips were on yours again, all coherent thoughts went flying out of your head. It was like his mouth had some kind of superpower over you. t made everything else—every little doubt and worry—just… disappear. 
“Oh my God, no. Wait. Tell me,” you said, sitting up a little so you could look at him better. “When did you realize you had feelings for me?”
Rafe’s hand was still brushing against your thigh as he looked down at you. “Like… three weeks into our deal.”
 “Three weeks?!”
“Yeah,” he said it casually, like he hadn’t just dropped that little bomb on you. “We were about three weeks in. You were still going on about Nate, and I was, I don’t know. I started getting annoyed anytime you brought him up.”
You stared at him, trying to wrap your head around that. “So, while I was trying to figure out how to get Nate to like me, you were just… what? Secretly into me?”
He snickered, leaning back against the headboard, looking way too relaxed for someone who’d kept his feelings a secret for months.
“Pretty much.”
“You were such an ass to me back then,” you pointed out, still kind of shocked.
“Yeah, because I didn’t know what the hell to do with how I was feeling,” he admitted, “We acted like we hated each other for years. I didn’t just wake up one day and go, ‘Oh, maybe I like her.’ It took me a minute to figure it out.”
You were still processing. Three weeks in? That was barely when you started realizing he wasn’t the worst person in the world.
“So, what, you just... didn’t say anything?”
Rafe gave you a look, like you should’ve known better. “Of course not. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know we’ve spent most of our lives hating each other, but now I’m kind of into you’?” He shook his head. “Besides, you were still all hung up on Nate.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a second. “Oh my God. That’s so embarrassing.”
“Nah,” he said, laughing softly as he pulled your hands away from your face. “It’s kinda cute, honestly. You had no idea.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You really waited until I was over my Nate phase to make a move, didn’t you?”
“Yup. I was patient,” he said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I was better for you anyway.”
Rafe was still so close, his lips hovering just above yours like he was waiting for you to make the move. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction—not yet. “You think you’re better for me, huh?”
 “I know I am.”
You didn’t even have time to roll your eyes before he kissed you again, slowly at first, almost teasing, until his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. The way his lips moved against yours, the little rasp he let out when you kissed him back harder—it nearly sent your heart into cardiac arrest.
And then you ruined it. Because then, like always, that stupid little voice crept in. The one that wouldn’t just let you be happy. Yeah, it was perfect now, in your tiny dorm room where it was just the two of you and the outside world didn’t exist. But next week, you’d both be going home for spring break. And that voice kept whispering what you didn’t want to think about.
Back home, it wouldn’t just be the two of you anymore. No more bubble. Just the island. And everyone on it. All the stupid expectations and labels and… baggage.
Because you were you, the pogue girl who worked summers and knew every corner of The Cut like the back of her hand. And he was Rafe Cameron. Kook royalty. The guy who used to make it his personal mission to remind you of that difference every chance he got.
His friends? They were probably still the same assholes who’d laughed about it like you were something beneath them. What if they still did?
And what if—God, what if—he started to see it like that again too? Realize that all this wasn’t worth the hassle? He was always so sure here, like the past didn’t matter, like he wasn’t even that guy anymore, but… what if being back there, where everyone knew who you really were… changed things?
You pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss. He made a low, disappointed sound, eyes opening and immediately locking on yours, his hand still holding your jaw. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you lied, “I’m just… I keep thinking about… going home.”
His brows drew together, “What about it?”
“It’s just… things are different there,” you looked away even though his hand was gently turning your face back toward him.
“Different how?” he pressed, like he needed to figure out what was going on in your head.
“You know.” You bit your lip, taking a shaky breath. “You’re Rafe Cameron, Rafe. And I’m… I’m just—”
His jaw clenched, his fingers stilling against your skin. “No. Stop,” he said softly but firmly. “You’re not ‘just’ anything.”
“It’s true, though! I’m still that pogue girl to them. Your friends, your people—Kooks—they’re gonna look at me and see exactly what they used to. And even if they don’t say it, they’re thinking it. I can feel it, Rafe. And you—” You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You can’t pretend that won’t matter.”
Suddenly, he was sitting up, practically towering over you, “Are you kidding me? You think I give a shit what they think?”
You blinked up at him, “Rafe—”
“No, seriously,” he went on, cutting you off, his hand still cradling your face like he was afraid you’d run if he let go. “I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I care about you.” He leaned closer, his eyes blazing as he held your gaze. “I’m not that guy anymore. I’m not… that Rafe.”
“But what if—”
“No ‘what ifs,’” he murmured, shaking his head, his thumb brushing over your cheek like he was wiping away an invisible tear. “I’m done pretending. I’m done worrying about who’s watching or what they’re saying. I don’t want to hide this. I don’t want to hide you. I’m not ashamed, okay?”
Your chest tightened painfully. “But what if being back there—”
“Baby, baby, baby,” he cut you off, voice soft but so steady, like he was trying to pull you back to him. “No. Don’t do this. I’m not letting you talk yourself out of this.” He leaned in, his forehead gently bumping against yours. “When I say I want you, I mean I want all of you. Here, home, everywhere. I want to show up with you at every party, every stupid get-together, holding your hand and daring anyone to say a word about it.”
Your breath hitched, feeling stupid tears prick at your eyes, “You—You really mean that?”
“I’m not going anywhere. Home changes nothing. We’re still us. You’re still mine.”
You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and he brushed it away, his lips hovering over yours.
“Promise?” 
“Promise.”
You were a goner after that.
Completely lost in the feel of his tongue slipping past your lips, his fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt. Your heart was practically doing somersaults when you pulled him closer, your nails scraping lightly across his bare back.
“Rafe,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a sigh as his hands roamed up under your top, fingertips skimming along the sensitive skin of your ribs. He made a low, satisfied sound against your lips, his grip tightening just enough to make you want to eat him whole. His thumbs brushed the underside of your bra, and you arched into him, chasing the touch like you were starved for it.
“Baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” he practically cooed, his voice all gravelly and wrecked as his mouth traced down the side of your neck, peppering kisses. “So fucking perfect—”
You tugged his hair lightly, just enough to make him look up at you again, a devilish smirk pulling at his lips. “You know, you’re supposed to be watching the movie,” you teased, breathless, not even pretending to sound convincing.
“Movie’s boring,” he purred, his hands slipping higher, thumb tracing over the lace of your bra. “I’m a lot more interested in you, pretty girl.”
Before you could even think of a comeback, his mouth was on yours again, needier this time. He kissed you like he was desperate, one of his hands sliding back down, gripping your waist as he dragged you onto his lap, and you could feel every lean muscle of his chest, the solid heat of his body pressed up against you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he grabbed a handful of your ass, holding you to him like you were the only thing that mattered.
You made a small, breathy sound as he explored your mouth, his hand sliding into your hair, cradling your face as he angled you just right, and you instinctively leaned into him, waiting more. He tilted your chin up slightly, and his tongue slid against yours, slick and probing, your mouths moving together in soft gasps and heavy breaths. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. You couldn’t believe this was the same guy who had been your first kiss just a month ago. You knew—knew—that if you kept this up, if you didn’t stop—
The door burst open.
“I swear, if I ever see that asshole again, I’m going to— Oh. Oh.”
You whipped around to see Ava standing in the doorway, looking like she was ready to throw hands, in all her pissed-off, storming-in glory. She was still wearing her cute little date outfit—red crop top, high-waisted jeans—but her hair was kind of a mess, and her lipstick was smudged, like she’d been fuming the entire walk over. 
Rafe’s lips were swollen, red, a little glossy, and his hair was a mess from your fingers. But did he look embarrassed? Even the slightest bit ashamed that you’d just been caught practically swallowing each other’s faces?
Absolutely not. 
But what made you actually gape was the fact that fact Ava didn’t even blink at the sight of you straddling Rafe, his shirt completely off, your own top halfway up your ribs. Instead, she just waved her hand dismissively, like she couldn’t care less that she’d just walked in on a borderline soft-core porno scene. 
“What happened?” you asked, your voice still breathless as you tried to act like you hadn’t been moments away from letting him do whatever he wanted to you.
“I was saying—this fucker had the nerve to tell me that he thinks women shouldn’t split the bill because they don’t work as hard. Like, what the actual fuck?”
Rafe let out a loud, frustrated groan against your shoulder, his forehead dropping onto your collarbone as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
You smothered a giggle, trying and failing to glare at him while Ava, completely oblivious, kept right on ranting.
“Seriously, I should’ve just walked out then and there, but noooo, I thought, be nice, Ava, don’t make a scene. And what does this prick do?” She threw her hands up, pacing back and forth as you slowly—very awkwardly—slipped off Rafe’s lap, tugging your hoodie back into place.
“Uh… what?” you asked, doing your absolute best to sound normal while Rafe buried his face against your neck, his shoulders shaking as he mumbled, “She’s such a fucking cockblock,” against your skin. You smacked the back of his head lightly, biting your lip to keep from laughing.
“Shh,” you hissed at him, and he just grumbled something unintelligible, his lips still grazing your shoulder.
“Anyway!” Ava continued, still blissfully unaware. “The asshole pulls out coupons. Like, actual physical coupons. And then he tries to use one to get a free dessert, but surprise, surprise, it’s expired, so what does he do? Blames me. Me! Like I’m the one who asked to go to a place with coupons—”
“Jesus Christ,” Rafe sighed, finally lifting his head from your neck, giving her an exasperated look. “Does she ever stop talking?”
“Shut up,” you murmured, swatting his chest even as you tried not to giggle. Ava’s gaze flicked over to the two of you, her expression still murderously angry—but she still didn’t seem even a little fazed by the fact that Rafe was literally shirtless, looking like he’d been in the middle of something much more interesting.
“Anyway, so then he tries to say that he thinks I’m being too sensitive. Like, are you kidding? Sensitive? I should’ve shoved the damn breadsticks up his ass!”
Rafe let out a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a growl, dropping his head back onto your shoulder with a dramatic groan. “You’re killing me."
You giggled, shaking your head and patting his hair soothingly. “You’ll survive,” you murmured, still trying to keep a straight face. Ava was still pacing, muttering angrily under her breath.
“I swear to God, next time, I’m just bringing a taser. I’m not playing anymore. You think I’m being sensitive? Here, take 50,000 volts and let’s see how sensitive you feel after that—”
Rafe lifted his head again, looking between you and Ava with an expression that could only be described as done. “Can I kill her?” he asked flatly.
You smacked his shoulder again, laughing. “No, Rafe. Be nice.”
“I��am being nice,” he shot back, giving you an incredulous look. “I’m suffering, babe. I’m over here, trying to—” He gestured between the two of you pointedly. “—and she’s giving me a freaking lecture on expired coupons.”
“I know,” you whispered, grinning as he groaned and dropped his head against your chest this time.
“Why do I even try?” he sighed, sounding utterly defeated.
“And then he actually thought he could just—”
Ava abruptly stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before her. Her attention flicked between you and Rafe, lingering on the way you were still nestled against him.
“Wait a second,” she said slowly, “What the hell just happened here?”
You felt your cheeks heat up as you shot a look at Rafe, who was now smirking like the cat who got the cream.
“Uh, nothing? Just a little... study break?” you stammered.
Ava crossed her arms, her eyebrow arched in that way that always made you feel like she was reading your mind. “Study break, huh?”
Rafe leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “What can I say? I’m a good tutor. A very hands-on tutor.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly serious.
“You better use protection, Cameron,” she warned, pointing a finger at him like a stern teacher. “I swear to God, if you get her pregnant—”
“AVA!” you exclaimed, mortified, covering your face with your hands. You could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks, and it was all you could do to not melt into the floor.
“What?” she said innocently, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Just looking out for my girl here. I mean, have you seen him? He’s trouble.”
Rafe, still unbothered, just laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Yup, there she is,” he said, glancing at you with a cheeky glint in his eye. 
You shot him a faux glare, then turned back to Ava, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You groaned, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Can we not talk about my potential future children right now?”
She just scooted right between you and Rafe, sitting in bed and throwing her legs over the blanket, settling in like she belonged there. You blinked, caught between amused and confused, as she wiggled down, practically cocooning herself.
"What are we watching?" Ava asked, completely ignoring the fact that she had become the ultimate third wheel.
You could see Rafe moving, trying to reclaim some form of contact with you. His arm was awkwardly hovering like he wasn’t sure what to do now that you were out of reach. You turned slightly—he was full-on pouting. His bottom lip stuck out just enough that you had to fight the urge to laugh.
“Uh, nothing now,” Rafe muttered, his voice full of that trademark grumpiness. “Can't even hold my girl.”
Ava just shrugged, completely unfazed, casually throwing an arm over your waist. “Oh, c’mon, you’ll survive one movie without being all over each other.” She glanced between you two like she was the voice of reason, which—let’s be real—she was not.
You shot Rafe a playful look, but he was still sulking, “Gonna start dragging you to my dorm.”
“Shup up Cameron, let me watch the movie.”
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TAGLIST: @sxdghxstsbxxkshxlf @goddmie @voqueflms @mattyskies @maybankslover @psychocitylights @sunny1616 @bokutooooo @justafangirls-blog @cl4uus @persiar9 // if you asked me to tagged and i forgot iM SORRY <3 thank you all for the support!
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incorrectbatfam · 11 months ago
Note
Jason is a hopeless romantic 100%
it just doesnt show
But everyone goes to him whn its time to plan dates
Dick: Hey, can I ask you something?
Jason, reading: No.
Dick: You see, Wally and I have our weekly date night coming up, but we've been to pretty much every place there is. You got any ideas for how to shake things up?
Jason: *scribbles coordinates and tosses him the Bat-plane keys*
[later]
Wally: Wow, I've never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
Dick: I'm glad you like it.
Dick: *texts Jason a thumbs up*
Jason: *read at 8:55 PM*
———————
Tim: Jason, glad you're here! I totally forgot it's me and Bernard's six-month anniversary. Help me out, man.
Jason, clipping his toenails: Fine. You better write this down 'cause I'm only saying it once.
Tim: *nods*
Jason: Go to Home Depot. You're gonna need some rope, a tarp, hammer and nails, a hatchet, matches, and fuel. After that...
Tim: *furiously takes notes*
[later]
Bernard: A camping trip was a great idea. It's nice to get away from it all. And I can't believe you set this all up yourself.
Tim, chuckling nervously: What's a boyfriend for if not to build a tent and chop down a tree?
———————
Duke: So the school dance is coming up.
Jason, working: Theme?
Duke: Under the sea.
Jason: Ugh, how cliché. Anyway, Armand's Tailoring has a blue suit that'll match whatever your girlfriend's wearing. Tell him I sent you. After that, call Patricia's Bistro and make a reservation with the code word "surreptitious." Alfred can take you in the limo if you give him a 24-hour heads-up to clean it. Once you're there, remind the DJ he owes me a favor to get your song requests bumped up. And remember, a slow dance is basically moving your feet in a square but otherwise go with the flow.
Duke: Sweet, thanks!
———————
Cass: Steph is sad.
Jason, cooking: *sighs*
Jason: *takes out a tub of ice cream*
Jason: *scoops a hole in the middle*
Jason: *fills it with candy*
Jason: Here.
Cass: Thanks!
———————
*phone rings*
Jason, waking up from a nap: What?
Kory: Sorry if I woke you. Barbara's coming over for breakfast in half an hour but I burned it with my powers. It was supposed to be eggs benedict.
Jason: Order takeout and put it on fancy plates.
Kory: You're a lifesaver—
Jason: *already hung up and went back to sleep*
———————
Kate: It's Renee's birthday tomorrow. I have a gift, but I'm not sure if it's good enough.
Jason, polishing his gun: If it's from you, it will be.
———————
Bruce: *walks in*
Bruce: Hey, son. Selina's not talking to me after our argument. How do I tell her how much she means to me?
Jason, reciting Shakespeare: I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, "I love you."
Bruce: You're right. I'm just gonna tell it to her straight. Thank you.
Bruce: *leaves*
Jason: *takes off his headphones and turns around*
Jason: Did someone say something?
———————
Damian: Todd, what is love supposed to feel like?
Jason: Why do you want to know?
Damian: None of your concern. Now tell me.
Jason: *shoots a training dummy*
Jason: It's when they're lodged in your head like a bullet. Except without the excruciating pain and messy red stuff.
Damian, nodding: Tell me more.
———————
Roy: *takes down a villain*
Jason, sitting on a roof: *wolf whistles*
Roy: The hell?
Jason: I know hot when I see it.
Roy: What are you doing here?
Jason: I brought Arrowdogs.
Roy: You hate Arrowdogs.
Jason: But you don't.
Roy: Aw, how sweet—EYES UP HERE, TODD!
2K notes · View notes
literaila · 3 months ago
Note
i need more of gojo's dopey grin and reader cooing over him when they're alone
“hey.”
to anyone else, this position might look a bit… concerning.
but laying face down in your bed, head smushed into the pillow, fingers clinging at the sheets underneath the duvet, uniform still on—well, this is normal to satoru.
because of course it is.
you don’t bother to move, or breathe, or really even comprehend that gojo is back several hours later than he’d told you he would be.
no, your feet hurt a bit too much, and your shoulders feel pinched. whoever invented nerves and muscles anyway? and how can you travel back in time to murder them?
“why are you home?” you ask satoru, voice muffled into the pillow.
but he must understand you well enough because the weight of the bed shifts at your waist, and there’s a hand on your back. “i don’t know… thought i might try going to bed a bit earlier.”
“no, you didn’t.”
he must be smiling. “no, i didn’t. i did miss you though. tired?”
“i think i died.”
“mmm…” and then there’s a weight—at least a billion tons—covering your body, and an ear in the middle of your back as gojo lays on you. “ah, nope! there’s your heart. it’s very happy to see me.”
“my eyes are closed.”
“the heart knows no bounds, darling.”
you scoff and then remember that your lungs are being crushed. “gojo,” you cough out, lifting your head finally. “i can’t breathe.”
“then how are you speaking to me?” he asks, bravado evidence in every inch of him, but he lifts himself off and you relax once again—or relax as much as a person who might never be able to get up again can.
but then there’s a hand at your shoulders, and a blinding light in your eyes as satoru flips you over, his knees finding their place on either side of you, hands right by your neck.
“ugh,” you try to move back, but he’s on top of you. so, yeah no, nothing happening there. “i hate this thing,” you say, reaching around him to mess with the knot he’s tied at the back of his head.
usually you don’t mind the blindfold, but today it has potential to ruin your entire relationship.
satoru only laughs, pushing your hands away as he does it himself. his eyes are there, after that, focused on you even as he leans over to set the blindfold somewhere unimportant.
“the kids asleep?” he asks you, staying above you—where he’s most comfortable.
“tsumiki came and said goodnight an hour ago. and megumi might be in a coma because he fell asleep at six and probably won’t ever wake up again.”
“oh, good, so we’re off the hook.”
“yup. for at least seven more hours.”
satoru grins, his hair in your eyes as he leans down. “that’s enough time,” he tells you, kissing the side of your jaw, and then your neck, and then—
“i’m too tired,” you tell him, kind of pouting, kind of wishing you had any energy to push him off. “why are teenagers so fast?”
he kisses back up, still smiling. “endurance training?”
“i think it was more ‘let’s practice killing our teacher’ training.”
“aw, that’s my favorite,” his eyes meet yours. “did you at least kick their asses?”
you scoff. “are you kidding?”
gojo shakes his head, mostly just to taunt you.
“of course i did,” you huff, kneeing his stomach so he’ll get off.
satoru complies, just to show that he can be sweet.
and it might take all of your body strength, but as soon as he is on his side, you curl up beside him, leg swung across his hips.
you ignore satoru’s silent laugh and make an effort not to comment on the hand that wraps around you, keeping you secured to him.
“good?”
“hmm.”
satoru swallows, hands finding their way to the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric. “i had another meeting today.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“how’d it go?” you ask softly, grabbing his hand instead. you intertwine your fingers, allowing his subtle teasing of his thumb on your skin.
“fine. good. bad,” satoru sighs. “i need to take another trip soon.”
“hmm.”
“not until the end of the month, probably. but soon.”
“okay,” you whisper to him, looking at your hands. “that’s fine.”
he makes a noise, nuzzling his nose into your forehead. “that’s what took so long. i didn’t mean to miss dinner.”
you laugh, squirming away from the ticklish feeling. “it’s okay. at least megumi was more pleasant than usual. no one to tease him.”
“i’ll double it tomorrow.”
you groan, turning so you can look up at him—because if you’re going to convince him of anything, you’ll need your face to do it.
but satoru is already grinning back at you.
his eyes are entirely soft. his skin as always been so perfect, the planes and edges of his face a mesmerizing configuration.
you must be really tired, because you pause for a moment. satoru looks at you like that often enough but it—
it doesn’t make it any more bearable.
so you groan again, shaking his hand from yours. “stop smiling at me like that. i can’t focus, and im trying to argue with you.”
he laughs. “i thought you were tired.”
“i am. i cant be dealing with you and your face right now.”
“my face?”
“your stupid eyes.”
“stupid?”
“shut up, gojo,” you tell him, shaking your head. “i’m closing my eyes. don’t look at me.”
“but i just can’t stop,” he murmurs, sweetly.
and against all judgement you look at him again—and he’s still smiling.
this time, you swallow, looking a little bit more.
no one ever said you weren’t allowed to admire him just a little bit. it’s not like it’s illegal.
satoru hums and leans down. he kisses you softly, both of your necks straining, and you can still feel the damn smile. can taste the exuberance, smell the sincerity.
he adjusts both of you then, moving so that you’re laying all the way on the bed, no longer bending your neck to see him.
satoru pulls away with a smack, eyes very close to yours. “your lips are warm.”
you close your eyes. “stop,” you say to him, so quiet it’s almost inaudible.
but satoru doesnt.
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henry7931 · 3 months ago
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Got Your Body B*tch!
Drew:
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This is Marco, he’s a raging asshole (for a lack of better words). I’ve known him all of my life, down to when we were young kids. And he’s always been a huge pain.
Marco, is the type of guy who’s cocky, always gets what he wants, comes from really nice rich parents, and incredibly insensitive.
He’s been that way forever.
I thought I was done with him when I left to go to college. That was until I walked in to my college apartment and saw Marco unpacking bags.
“Drewphus! I didn’t know you’re my roomie. You’re going to have to leave the apartment when bring a girl over, okay? Oh also, no touching my shit. I don’t want you get poverty all over it.”
If looks could kill in a moment, I swear Marco would be dead on the ground right now.
“I’m kidding…. Well, kinda. So here is your space, I hope you don’t mind but i already called the bigger bedroom since i was here first.”
“That’s fine Marco,” I say biting my tongue.
“Great, well have fun unpacking whatever you got in those two suit cases. I’m gonna have some private Marco time if you know what I mean”
Marco makes a jerking off hand gesture, I just roll my eyes and head into my new room.
A few hours past after I unpack and settle in, I order a pizza for dinner and lay back in bed.
All I can think about is how I’m about to have to live in the same quarters as Marco. The same guy I cant stand to be around.
Ugh…
So just like I always do when I get this stressed— it’s time to jerk off. (Something I’m sure Marco has already done 12 times today)
I checked my phone to see how much time I have until the pizza arrives, one hour. Great!
I pull off my shorts and open up my laptop. I feel a little embarrassed to admit this but I the kind of porn I like isn’t for everyone. I have a foot fetish. And not just that I this thing for jock athletes and their feet. I hate how much it turns me on especially since it’s guys like Marco that really get me going.
I start scrolling through and see this really hot jock with big feet. I click on his page. His username says AlphaAlex, he’s tan, dirty brown curly hair, six pack, big muscles…
I start mentally picturing him with me in the room, fantasizing him taking off his sneakers and dirty gym socks in front of me.
He says to me, “Hey Drew, do you mind rubbing my feet? I’ve had a really long practice and they are killing me.”
He puts them on my lag and says, “sorry if they stink!”
He lets me rub them and I ask him if I can smell them…
He says, “Sure, you can do whatever you want with them. After you’re done with my big jock feet, do you mind massaging my cock next?”
I stare deeply into AlphaAlex’s massive bulge on the screen. Almost about to nut…
“BRO!!! WHAT THE F*CK DREWFUS! I KNEW YOU WERE A HOMO BUT YOU’RE A FOOT FREAK TOO?”
Cum squirts onto my chest just as I turn to see Marco standing at my door with his cellphone recording in hand.
“MARCO!!! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?”
“Bro, wait until I show this to everyone! Now everybody going to know you’re a foot freak!!”
“MARCO PLEASE NOOO!!!”
I hop out of bed and Marco turns around and I chase him butt naked through our apartment.
He screams, “Stop chasing me foot freak!!!”
Marco shuts the door and I feel my stomach turn. I beg him to delete the video but he doesn’t respond.
As I go back to my room, I cry into my pillow… I feel so mortified.
I lay back, wiping my tears and say, “If someone could hear me, I wish I can get revenge on Marco. No I want more! I want everything Marco has…”
I cry myself to sleep, nervous for what the next day had in store for me.
The next morning, I wake up feeling kinda off. It takes me a second but I realize that somehow I’m not in my room!
In a panic, I rush to get out of bed until I come across a mirror.
That’s when I see Marco’s reflection looking back at me!!!
“Holy shit!!”
I feel a moment of fear hit me… but then I remember my wish last night. Someone out there listened to me.
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I look at Marco’s face and then down at his body. Hes a dick but…. He is hot…
I pull off Marco’s shorts he slept in and his 10 inch hard morning wood comes flopping out.
“Holy fuck…”
I grasp it in Marco’s hand, which I guess is my hand now?
Nervous, yet kinda excited, I wasn’t sure what to do.
I looked down at the throbbed cock in my new new hands and immediately start jerking off.
I hop back into Marco’s bed and bring his foot up to his face. He actually has some sexy feet!
I start licking his foot from heal to toe. I relish in knowing the fact that he would go insane if he saw me with his body right now.
I keep tugging away at his cock and this maybe the best jerk off session in my life.
I twist Marco’s nipple and let out a soft moan.
“Fuckkk Marco your nipples are sooo sensitive,” I say aloud.
Hearing his voice sends me into a frenzy, just the thought that I can say anything, do anything as him. I have complete control of this dickhole!
I stand up out of bed and dash to the mirror, I grin at his reflection and jerk his cock even faster.
“Drew, it feels soo good, keep jerking my cock Drew. My body belongs to you now, my big feet, my sensitive nipples, my sexy abs… FUCKKKK THIS IS SOOO HOTTTT!!!”
I nearly screaming by this point and I feel every muscle in Marco’s body tighten.
I’m tugging so fast now and then cum sprays all over the place.
I fall back onto Marco’s bed covered in his nut. I look at his covered hand and lick it clean.
I lay back and gently rub his fingers back and forth on his stomach up to his chest.
Then reality started to sink….
Wait, if I’m Marco… what happened to my body?
“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
I hear a distant familiar scream coming from the background.
“Oh shit…”
Heavy footsteps coming charging my direction and before I can even get up the door slams open.
Out of the door is my body…
My eyes get big, I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry. My face is blood red and he starts to charge at me.
“Hold up!” I say hopping on top of the bed.
“DREW YOU PIECE OF SHIT IM GOING TO END YOU!!”
He balls up a fist and starts to pull back. Before he can reach me I grab the balled fist.
I guess Marco’s body has quicker reflex’s.
I pull him in and toss him on the bed. I pin him down and say, “I’m a lot stronger than you now. You wanna talk instead?”
“F YOU!!!”
I twist my former weaker arm and he shouts out, “OWWW SHIT, FINNNE!!!”
I get hop off my body and let him turn over.
He glances me over and says, “did you just jerk off in my body?”
I look down at the undeniable evidence.
“Yeah, I did. It was amazing.”
“You piece of—”
I look down and notice the tent in my boxers.
“Wait are you turned on right now?” I say to him.
“NO IM NOT!”
“You have a very noticeable boner right now.”
“Shut up! No I don’t!”
“What was it for you? Seeing your body all naked? Or was it when I pinned you down?”
He says nothing to me, just looks away.
“I mean you have very hot body Marco, theirs no shame in being turned on by it. Hell, I can’t stand you and I just had the best jerk off session in my life. What’s getting all hot and bothered? Is your hairy pits?” I hold his armpit up and step closer to him.
“Or maybe it’s the sight of your own cock.” I say shaking his semi-hard dick at him.
I move even closer to him. He looks like he’s in a trance.
“Oh you know what always gets me hard. Big manly feet,” I kick his foot up and show it to him.
I place his foot on my former bulge and start rubbing it.
“Does that feel good?”
He still say nothing but lets me keep going.
I push him further on the bed and pull off the brief I went to bed in my last.
My dick comes out standing straight up and leaking from the tip.
I place his foot on it and start toying with it using his toes.
He lets out a moan.
I look at my former face and he’s so turned on right now.
I pull his foot away and he says softly, “please don’t stop…”
“Oh you don’t want me to stop?”
“No… please Drew… it’s throbbing…”
“Well you’re gonna have to finish the job yourself, I’m going to shower and head to the pool.”
“WHAT!??”
“Yeah the pools still open, got to make the most out of these last few warm days Drew.”
“YOU!!! Drew, you can’t just leave me like this!!! I want my body back right now!”
“Sorry DREW! But this wasn’t my doing necessarily. If anything this is karma for you being such a prick all these years. Now run along and go take care of that boner little gay boy.”
I look at the corner of Marco’s room and see his dirty sock.
“Oh here you go! A gift from me to you, enjoy!”
I give my former throbbing dick a pat and I run off to the shower, leaving Marco in his mixed emotional state.
I rinse off quickly and come back out, I walk back into Marco’s room and see he’s still on the bed— sniffing the dirty sock and wanking one out.
“Oh fuck you’re back already!” he says to me.
He looks so pathetic right now.
“Geez, just stay right where you are.”
I drop the towel and get into bed with him. I grab my former cock and push it into Marco’s throat.
“HOLY!!!!” he screams out.
I suck off my former body while Marco’s moans frantically.
I feel him running my former hands in his hair and I feel myself getting a little excited from it. It’s kinda hot being this aggressive and sucking my former body off.
He lets out a loud grunt and cums down my new throat.
“Better?,” I say whipping the excess cum off my mouth.
“God yeah,” he says taking heavy breaths.
I look at my former body in the eyes and for a split second I thought about kissing him. But then reality sinks in… that’s still Marco inside.
I get out of bed and say, “I’m heading down to the pool.”
I put on his bathing suit and he says to me, “Drew, I’m sorry for being such a dick.”
“I know you are,” I say back.
“Can we try to fix this?”
“I’m sorry to Marco but I don’t think we fix this, these may be our bodies forever. So you might as well get comfortable.”
I left him sitting in his now former room naked and silent.
When I get down to the pool it doesn’t take me long to notice others noticing me.
Some girls and some guys, I look over at some of the guys and even wink at one. He is super cute and fit.
I hop on to a float and lay back soaking up the sun. I wait to see if that guys going to make a move when the ultimate buzz kill shows up.
It’s Marco in my body.
“Sup,” he says to me.
“Just trying to relax.”
“Yeah well, we still need to talk.”
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“We don’t now f*ck off.”
He rolls his eyes and walks over a chair by the pool.
Soon that guy from earlier comes over.
“Hey, what’s up?” he says to me with a grin.
“Just laying out wait for you to come over,” I say with a smirk.
“Oh is that so?” he says flirtatiously.
He gets into the pool and now he’s right next to me.
“I’m Lois.”
“Marco,” I say introducing myself to him.
“So do you live here?”
“Yeah I’m on the second floor.”
“Nice, I’m on the third.”
We flirt and have small talk for a minute until he asks me out.
“Sure you wanna do tonight?” I say to him.
“Oh man, yeah I’m down,” he tries not to be too excited.
“Great, let’s say 7?”
“Yeah 7 works for me.”
“Cool,” I say grinning at him.
I peak out of the corner of my eye and see my Marco coming up to the pool.
“What are you doing?” he says to me.
“Oh hey Drew, this is my roommate.”
“Oh nice, I’m—”
“Don’t care dude, I need to talk to you Marco.”
“Uh okay, sorry Lois. I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yeah for sure!”
I get out of the pool and walk back to the apartment with Marco angry.
“What was that?” he says sternly.
“None of your business! Also you were just so f*cking rude!”
“I don’t care! You were flirting with that guy!”
“Yeah so? We are going on a date tonight.”
“WHAT?!?”
“Yeah, and you interrupted it.”
“You’re going on a date with a guy in my body?!?”
“It’s my body now and yes I am!”
“But… but you just sucked me off and…”
“And what? You thought that was something special?”
“OF COURSE NOT! I’M NOT GAY!”
“Well what you did a few hours ago seemed pretty gay to me.”
“Yeah that’s because I’m in your gay body and plus that’s my body. It’s kinda like masterbation.”
“Whatever man, I really don’t care. If you want to pretend to be straight that’s fine. But I’ll be honest, I think you’ve always had feelings for guys. I know because I’m in your body and I’m still attracted to men.”
“SHUT UP!!!”
“So it’s true, you’ve been a dick to me my entire life about my sexuality, what I like, and it turns out you have some pinned up jealousy towards me right?”
Marcos looking down at the ground.
“We could have been friends, do you not get that?!? We could have—”
Marco grabs me and kisses me.
I was so shocked and I even felt butterflies in my stomach. We kiss for a few minutes before I pull back.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?”
“I’m sorry Drew! I was never going to do all of that stuff. I… I don’t know how to say this… I like you. I like you a lot. Hell, I thought about kissing you just about every time I went to kiss any girl. But I have so much anger and you’re right I am jealous! I’m jealous that you’re out and proud of yourself. You’re so confident! Fuck!!”
“So why put me through so much!?!! I mean look at us, we’re literally trapped as each other now! All of this could have been prevented if you just owned up.”
“I thought… I thought you would have hated me so much that you would tell everyone the truth about me. So… I just, I was a prick.”
“Damn right you were!”
“Sorry… again.”
“It’s fine, I guess I’m sorry for causing this body swap thing between us. I made some wish last night to get back at you. I didn’t think it would become anything but then woke up as you.”
His eyes get big, “so that’s how this happened?”
“Yeah, I guess something out in the universe was listening in and heard me.”
“That’s nuts.”
“Yeah it is.”
“Well if we are being honest about everything. I wasn’t just turned on by you dominating me upstairs. I was freaked out and yet turned on from being inside of you.”
“Really? My body?”
“Yeah Drew, you’re cute. You have an adorable face, cute slim figure, you’re charming yet kinky.”
“Wow.”
“And now I guess we are going to have to be each other forever?”
“Yeah I guess so.”
“Well if I had to be anyone else, I’m glad it’s you.”
“You mean that?”
“I do.”
I grinned at him and he smiles back at me. We both start to laugh.
“Are you still going on a date with this Lois guy?”
“Well not if an adorable guy who’s charming yet kinky stops me.”
“I guess that’s me now isn’t it?”
“Yep!”
“Well I can’t fully stop you but I can tell you this. If you don’t go—we can order take out, lay in bed together, and fool around all night.”
“Hmmmm… that sounds promising.”
“Plus, I know my body really well. And I can tell you no one knows how to make that body feel as good as I do.”
“Is that so?”
He walks closer to me seductively and Im starting to get hard again.
“I’ll nibble on those nipples, toy around with my balls…I bet you these hands are going to feel so good working that cock..”
He reaches into my bathing suit and I gasp.
“Fuckkk, I guess I’ll be staying tonight,” I say barely getting words out.
“Hell yeah!!!”
3 Months Later:
“Babe, are you packed? We got to be at your parents in a couple of hours… Babe?”
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“Hi”
“Are you kidding?”
“We have time for a quick round, sides I’ll jerk you off using these sexy toes,” I say wiggling my feet at my boyfriend.
“Fuckkk… I guess we have time.”
Marco pulls off his shirt and I see the definition built into my former chest. He’s been hitting the gym a lot lately and everyday he’s looking sexier and sexier.
Marco pulls off his shorts and he’s already hard from these feet. It works like a charm every time.
I watch as my boyfriend grabs the foot that used to belong to him and he kisses every toe.
It’s crazy how quick the time had flown since we woke up as each other. I guess it helps that we are so in love with one another.
I start rubbing the cock that used to belong to me and now I’m hard.
“Babe, you are so talented with those toes… mhmmm that feels good.”
I use both feet and stroke back and forth.
He stops me for a second and plants my foot on his face.
“Did you work today without any socks on?”
“Hell yeah I did.”
He takes a big sniff of them.
“Fuckkk, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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gtgbabie0 · 1 year ago
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-Spencer Reid x reader
{Spencer hates waking you up for multiple reasons}
Super fluffy!! kinda suggestive at the end... kinda. Hope you enjoy as always my lovelies! 💕
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Spencer just can’t seem to bring himself to do it, he was meant to wake you up hours ago but each attempt was pointless, and you certainly didn't make it any easier for him. You look so blissful with your cheek smushed against the pillow, the covers wrapped securely around your shoulders and he refuses to be the one to disturb you from such peace.
Perhaps that’s why he tries to take a gentler approach, walking into the dimly lit room trying not to be too loud. He sits beside you on the bed, his hand soothing along your arm as he watches you stir from your sleep.
“Y/n? You’ve got to wake up baby” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your eyes and tucking it behind your ear, the back of his fingers grazing against your warm cheek.
You groan something completely incoherent as you tug the covers over your head and he chuckles softly at the sight, trying to pull the blanket back away from you. He would feel guilty about it, but the sounds you're making are far too funny.
“Come on baby, it’s almost twelve o’clock. You’ve had six whole hours of sleep” he says with a gentle tone, leaning to press delicate kisses against your shoulder, his soft lips trailing up to your jaw as he tries to coax you from dreamland.
You huff, mumbling something before turning around away from him. “Please Spence, just five more minutes… m’so tired” your voice is muffled by the pillows as you nuzzle your face further into the warm fabric trying to block out the sunlight that peaks from behind the curtains.
“You say, ‘five more minutes Spence’ but I know for a fact you won't get up” he teases, his hand continues to soothe against your back in an attempt to stop you from falling back asleep.
Spencer watches as you shoot him a glare from over your shoulder, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to stop the smirk that teeters against his lips, as you turn back around to face him. “Did you just mock me?” You feign offence, the teasing look that flashes through your eyes gives you away.
“Are you going to get up?” He ignores your question, instead, he leans down to press another kiss on your cheek.
“No” you mumble, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.
“Come on, I’ll make you pancakes?” he smiles, leaning into your touch slightly as your hand moves to cup his cheek, thumb caressing the space under his eye.
“Hmm… sweeten the deal, maybe give me a kiss or two?” you whisper, noticing the blush that dusts against his face.
He watches as you sit up, letting the covers fall from your shoulders as he stammers out a small “Okay” when your hand rests against his chest, the feeling of his soft sweater under your palm seems to draw you closer to him.
You decide to push your luck further, “Maybe even take a shower with me?” Your chest blooms with proud warmth as his face reddens, letting out a breathy chuckle.
He wonders if you have even the slightest idea of just how much you affect him. Just how much he’s insanely in love with you. But the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know, the way they seem to light up with nothing but adoration.
“Of course” he smiles, pressing one final kiss to your cheek before standing up from the bed. “Lunch first though,” he says, walking over to the door, trying to stifle his laughter as you throw yourself back onto the bed, groaning his name. He walks into the kitchen yelling out for you to get up as he begins preparing some pancakes.
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thevoidstaredback · 7 months ago
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
Waking up to a clean apartment was not what Dick was expecting at all. It was a nice surprise, for sure, but it begged the question as to how long he was asleep for. His phone said that it was the same day, only two hours later, but that state of the apartment suggested it had been at least a day!
He poked his head into the room he'd given Danny to stay in. The kid had ignored the bed almost completely, it seemed, and curled up in the corner furthest from the door with the blanket and his bag. He closed the door softly as he left the room. He hated that Danny didn't feel safe enough to sleep on the bed, but he understood the need to have his back to a corner.
Dick took one look at the shopping list on the counter before opening his fridge. Immediately, he closed it again. The rancid stench of spoiled milk and other foodstuffs seeped into the open room, making Dick rush to open the windows. He added candles and Febreeze to the shopping list. With his pay, he should have more than enough to get everything written down, as well as some things for Danny.
Would Danny want to go to school? Or would he want to take online courses? What grade would he even be in? There was nothing about any of that in the cover story the kid had made up. Did he just not think about it, or had he deemed it unimportant? Either way, Dick would bring it up with him in a little bit. For now, shopping. The kid had done a hell of a job with cleaning up, so it was only natural that Dick would pull his weight in his own apartment.
Making sure to leave a note, Dick locked the door behind himself as he headed down, mentally adding fridge magnets to the shopping list, too.
***
Stepping back into the apartment was like walking into someone else's home. The place looked no different than when he'd left earlier, but it was only just now settling that he now had someone to take care of. Dick was no longer alone in this apartment. He had someone to look out for, someone who was looking out for him.
And how pathetic was that? A child was having to take care of him. He's an adult! He should be able to take care of himself! But, here he is, hopeless. He hadn't even bothered to get off his ass and go shopping or clean up a little bit until a kid knocked on his door and spelled everything out for him in blue glitter pen.
Dick set down the six bags he was carrying on the counter. He completely emptied out the fridge and freezer, throwing it all away. It all had to go. The smell would linger for a little bit, but it wouldn't ever get that bad again, especially now that the stuff causing it was all gone. He quickly put everything away before picking up his phone.
He hadn't called the Manor in a while. Not since- not since Jason died...
He shook his head, scolding himself for letting irrational fear and anger get in the way of contacting the only family he had left, and called Wayne Manor.
After exactly two and a half rings, the line picked up. "Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking."
"Hey, Alfie," Dick knew he sounded pathetic.
There was..something on the other end that Dick couldn't quite pick up before Alfred spoke, formalities dropped and a smile in his voice. "Master Dick, how good to hear from you. It has been a while."
He leaned against the counter, sagging a bit. "Yeah, it has been. I'm sorry, Alfred, I just-"
"No need to apologize, Master Dick, I completely understand."
Did he? Maybe. "That's- Thank you, Alfred, really, but I didn't really call to apologize."
"Oh?" There was another sound in the background, a little closer to the phone, but not close or loud enough to be clearly picked up. "What seems to be the issue, then?"
"I, um," God, how was he going to explain this? "A kid showed up at my door, um, and offered to help me out? I-I couldn't say no to him, Alfe, but- I don't! I-I don't know how to take care of a kid!" The floodgates seemed to open with that as he sank to the floor, his back against the wall. "I can barely take care of myself, let alone a whole other person! But I can't put him back on the streets, Alfred, I just can't. And the things he's been telling me- He's not had an okay life, Alfred. I don't- I don't know what to do."
It was quiet for a moment before Alfred let out a small breath. "You, too?"
"Huh?"
THe question was ignored. "Take a deep breath for me, Master Dick." He did. "Good. This child, how old is he?"
"I don't know, about fourteen?"
A click of his tongue. "Taking care of a child is going to look different for everyone, especially if they've never had to care for anyone but themselves before. From what I understand, he has come to you for safety. He has nowhere else to go, yes?"
"Well, yeah, other than the streets, but I'm not sending him back out there-!"
"I'm not telling you to. If he came to you, he will leave of his own accord. It is your job to make sure he knows he can stay and that he is safe with you."
"I know that, but-"
"Do you have food in your house?"
"I- What? Yeah, I just got back from shopping."
"Good. Is your house clean?"
"Yeah, he, um, the kid cleaned up the place while I was asleep."
"Alright. Does he have a place to sleep?"
"Yeah, I gave him my spare room. What does this-?"
"Then the only thing left for you to do is to make sure he knows he's allowed to be comfortable there. Make sure he knows that it is a safe space for him and that he can stay as long as he likes. From the sounds of it, he intends to take care of you just as you intend to take care of him. Find a middle ground, set up some house rules, go at a pace that works for the both of you. You two will grow into a routine that fits for you in time. And it will take time. Bonds do not grow overnight, especially ones that are meant to last. It will be hard, but that is what makes it worth it."
Dick was quiet for a minute. Alfred let him gather his thoughts, not hanging up and simply waiting. Finally, "Thanks, Alfred."
"You are most welcome, Master Dick." The old man was smiling again. "Oh, aster Dick?"
"Yeah?"
"When you two are more comfortable, please come by the Manor."
Dick smiled, too. "I will. And I'll try to call more often."
"That's all I ask. Have a good day, Master Dick.
"Thanks, Alfred, you, too."
Part 5 Part 7
Tag List: @flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581 @blueliac @talia-scar123 @cyber-geist @violet-foxe @currentfandomkick
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flawless-peach · 8 months ago
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change your life ✨️
feel free to join me in this. I'm going to try to post every day about how I did <3
- get at least 7 consecutive hours of sleep. I've found if I go to sleep and then wake up back for a couple hours and then finish the 8 hours I feel I incredibly unrested. I keep myself accountable by using pokemon sleep which has a great alarm, so I'm looking forward to trying this instead
- read or listen to an audiobook for 30 minutes. literacy is a muscle, and using it is important, but sometimes I can't just sit down and read a book, and audiobooks are great for when I'm cleaning or cooking or folding laundry
- get sun daily. humans are a lot more like plants than you would think and so it is important to get some sun, even when it's a wintery sun that's cold or when it's a blazing furnace. Since I have some mental health issues and am unable to go outside im going to at least open my curtains, and if possible, crack a window to get some fresh air
- start a hobby you can enjoy. this one can be difficult because a lot of things require some sort of financial investment. for me, my hobbies for these six months is going to be writing and annotating books. but being creative is great for the human mind.
- learn to be comfortable alone. honestly this one will be difficult. personally, I live in a studio. privacy is nothing i experience, butthe little moments where you find yourself escaping with TV playing or music pause it and sit with yourself, how else can you learn to love someone if you avoid them 🥰
- meditate daily. this will be something I struggle with so much, but I'm going to try in the mornings since that's my peak time <3 and that's when I plan on doing a yoga flow during the sunrise
- eat healthy nutritious food. I hate cooking and I hate eating. having autism can make these really difficult for me to do, but I'm really really trying. I started the week before last to work on figuring out what snack foods I can prep, and now i just need to work on planning out some meals.
- positive affirmations everyday. I really struggle to have positive self talk because it feels so awkward and uncomfortable because I've been pessimistic for so long, but I want to change that ^^
- reduce screen time. this is going to be specifically targetting mindless scrolling for me. I have a tiktok account that I use for motivation, same with my tumblr account, and I also read on my phone and use my sleep app that I need to keep open at night.
- practice gratitude. my goal is to at night reflect on the day to try and find the good. I already reflect on my days and pick a mood, but I want to create lists of things i am grateful for, especially while I'm in between jobs.
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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 3 months ago
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9-1-1 Masterlist
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Oh gee finally a place I can keep these! Thank you to my bestest most amazing friend in the whole world for making these headers for me i literally actually literally could not do it without you
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Two of a kind
Buck can’t stop thinking about his coworker, so he does what every guy at 3am does on a 24 hour shift!! He sneaks out to his car to get off. But it turns out, certain coworkers (that might possibly be the love of his life) have the exact same idea!
Fairest of Them All:
The party downstairs rages on as Buck decides to do something about the pretty little thing he’s been staring at all night
Clothing Optional:
I can’t. I can’t keep writing summaries. I’ve done 2
After a stupid work shift, in the stupid heat, Buck just wants to enjoy a sweet little sundae, fortunately it comes with a side of dat ass (I’m not sorry)
That Should Be Me:
Buck has never ever been jealous ever a single damn day in his life
Gamer Girl
Buck thinks you’re so, so pretty. You’d looked even prettier with your thighs around his head
Now You See Me:
✨Mirror sex✨
Sleepy Hollow, 1999
Scream, 1996
The Exorcist, 1973
The Shining, 1990
Grease Lightning
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Growing Pains:
Everything is all wonderful and cool and dandy until you nearly die from your appendix!!
(I KNOW. THERE IS. AN AMBULANCE.)
Cry To Me:
Eddie loves when you’re crying during sex, nothing turns him on more… except when those tears are very very real and he’s very very worried
10 Things I Hate About You:
You guys freaking h a t e each other… or do you? Wink wink wink wink enemies to lovers wink
I Spy:
Eddie is the sweetest neighbor in the entire world… who knows where you work
Better Than Revenge:
You and Eddie get locked into a closet at your job after an accident, it also turns out your now EX boyfriend is a cheating asshole! Eddie has absolutely no problem filling in for the revenge role
Front Row:
Why do firehouses have to work f o r e v e r. Eddie needs a freaking shower and to pass out for the next six years on an overnight shift. It turns out someone has the same idea, and possibly another idea on how to left off some steam
Yeti Point:
Eddie finally takes you on that skiing vacation you’ve been begging him for and it’s going great! Until you get snowed in. But that’s okay, Eddie has a secret plan to keep you both warm
Slow and Steady:
Buck helps Eddie into the house, holding him up as you frantically get the bed ready for your injured boyfriend. Turns out, pain killers make Eddie horny!
(Hahahahahaha)
Encanto:
Dad!Eddie x Daughter!reader
Nightmares never get easier no matter how old you get. Especially ones where your father dies
Smoke Dector:
Eddie always has to be the hero, okay not really but it’s hard when you see your boyfriend running into a burning building for the first time
One Puff Or Two:
Take your freaking inhaler Eddie 🔪🔪🔪
Into The Fire:
(PTSD WARNING, PANIC ATTACK WARNING)
You’ve been on edge lately, and Eddie knows there’s something up. One night things come to a head when you have a nightmare about what happened and Eddie wakes up to a very bad situation
Night Changes:
Eddie comforts you after a bad nightmare about him dying over and over in different ways (based off of 5.14)
Busy Bees:
Two words ✨Sex Pollen✨
Soup or Salad?
✨I’ll freaking summarize this later✨
Sink or Swim
I Was Made For Lovin’ You
Halloween, 1978
It, 1990
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A Rose by any Other Name
This is one of the funniest titles I've ever made up. Buck finds your simple collection of toys and shows them to Eddie... and now they want you to put on a little show for them
Finish Line:
A little game of "whoever cums first loses"
Twice Bitten:
Double Penetration from my kinktober list!
Alexander Hamilton:
Buck can't stop having feelings for Eddie's girlfriend... but what if that's okay?
Captured, With Love
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skrrts · 4 months ago
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just a few more minutes (drabble)
✧ fem!reader x park seonghwa ✧ request: stay-at-home dad hwa & mc morning fluff ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, family ✧ word count: 1k ✧ warnings: food/eating
Seonghwa always wanted to be a stay-at-home dad. However, it doesn't make it any easier for either of you when it's time for you to get out of bed and go to work in the morning.
✧ a/n: thank you to anon for the request 🤎
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It was a blessing when your daughter finally started sleeping through the night, but you still had a habit of waking an hour or two before sunrise. Your body stirred slowly as your sleepy eyes caught a glimpse of the time on the clock next to your bed. Getting to work, even though it was only part-time for another six months, had been challenging.
You hated leaving your husband and child to drive to a busy office. Your employer was only slowly starting to introduce the opportunity to work from home, but the three of you had adjusted to it. You had the most amazing husband who always insisted he was perfectly fine reducing his hours to stay home and care for his little family.
His sleepy brown eyes greeted you, accompanied by a sweet smile that still made your heart flutter like on the first day of dating.
“Good morning,” he whispered, looking rather happy and relaxed as he snuggled closer, curling his arms around your figure. You leaned in to kiss him gently, “Hello there.”
Those little moments in the morning weren’t just the best boosts for the day but also the rare times for the two of you to enjoy alone. It wasn’t just your daughter; your friends and family always kept you busy.
Grandparents wanted to see their first grandchild, and San and Wooyoung volunteered to babysit but then needed someone to look after them when they got a little nervous about why a baby wouldn’t stop screaming.
“It’s Friday,” Seonghwa added, showering your face with little kisses, making you giggle.
“Thankfully. It means I have a whole weekend ahead with my big and small bear,” you smiled. Your husband had fallen in love with the storybook of a couple of bears having their first child. The excited expression on his face the day you brought home a little bear onesie, which your daughter actually seemed to love — unlike some of the little dresses she somehow managed to take off despite being less than a year old — was priceless.
Gentle fingers brushed strands of hair from your face, and this time, Seonghwa leaned in for a proper kiss, his hand resting against your cheek as you closed your eyes, simply taking in the feeling of being so close to one another. After that, the two of you cuddled a little, your head resting against his chest as he played with your hair.
“How about we pick you up? You’ll be done at twelve, yeah? We can go to the park, watch the ducks, and then do the groceries for the weekend together.” His voice was a soft whisper as you watched your daughter sleep peacefully in her bed.
“I’d like that. I should be able to wrap up in time; my boss loves going home extra early on Fridays — important business,” you rolled your eyes but smiled. Your head turned as you looked up at him, “Hwa~”
He tilted his head a little, “Hm?” First, you made a face before grinning, “You are the most amazing husband, you know? And yes, an amazing dad too!”
Seonghwa laughed, but he couldn’t hide the soft blush on his cheeks: “Somebody slept really well last night, with all these compliments today.”
Just as you were about to lean up for another kiss, the alarm went off. You sighed, hurrying to turn it off, but your daughter was already starting to stir; you could see her blinking.
“Time to shine,” your husband whispered as the two of you slowly slipped out of bed, stretching.
Seonghwa picked her up while you disappeared into the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready for your short workday. By the time you made it to the kitchen downstairs, the girl was already smiling at you, comfortable in Seonghwa’s arms.
“Say good morning to Mom,” he smiled, and you leaned in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Good morning.”
There was a soft giggle, and you loved watching how he melted for her all over again.
There was never a day when Seonghwa didn’t look happy and proud of his daughter. There was no denying she would likely be a daddy’s girl; he would spoil her, but then, who could be a greater father?
“Now, let’s make sure mom gets her breakfast before leaving the house, yes? When you grow up, you’ll be more mindful and not claim that coffee is breakfast,” he playfully whispered to your daughter, who giggled as Seonghwa carefully placed her in the baby bassinet.
You pouted innocently, “It’s just so much more convenient, and the sooner I leave, the faster I can come back.”
But there was no escape for you. Seonghwa gently pushed you to the table, and you sighed, giving in and sipping innocently on your coffee. He really was the perfect man — from his looks to being the most caring person — but in return, he was quite strict when it came to fighting your bad habits.
“Open your mouth wide,” he said, raising the toast with marmalade, and you rolled your eyes but laughed, “Oh, is this practice for when our daughter is old enough to eat toast?”
Seonghwa winked, “Not so much, just making sure my wife remains strong and healthy.” You leaned in and took a bite, but before you could sit back, he took your hand and pulled you into a kiss.
“If you keep doing this, I really won’t make it to work,” you teased, but eventually, Hwa gave you an innocent smile, and the two of you finished breakfast.
Soon after, you were ready to leave for work. You picked up your car keys and watched as Seonghwa carried your daughter to the door, wearing the bear onesie. She would outgrow it in no time.
“Time to wish Mom a good day at work,” he told her, and you leaned over to place a soft kiss on her cheek, “Keep Dad on his toes for me while I’m gone.”
“Hey!” Seonghwa laughed and pressed a short kiss on your lips as well, “Don’t work too hard. We’ll pick you up; a nice long walk will be great once we’re done cleaning up.”
You opened the door and waved at them, “I’ll miss you, see you soon.”
Seonghea carefully took your daughter's small hand, waving back: "We will miss you mom!"
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 7 months ago
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AHHH hii angel thank you so much for responding to my last request, it was more than perfect!! 💗
idk if you'd do this because it's a very sensitive topic and i don't want to make you feel uncomfortable but i need a little bit of comfort and reassurance since my bday is in like an hour hehe.. but can i have a bucky with a reader who's attempting to lose weight by dieting and working out but it kinda goes downhill (i think you know what I'm hinting at), and she's like a bit insecure and compares herself to models. and bucky finds out and helps her.. and just a bit angsty but turns out very fluffy with cuddles and stuff. you absolutely don't have to write this request if it's too overwhelming, lot's of love, take care! 💗💗💗💗
- 🦢
my love hi!! you’re more than welcome, glad you liked it!! happy belated birthday, hope you had a great day!! I love stuff like this so it’s no problem. sending love, hope you’re well. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
SMALL CHANGES.
bucky barnes x fem!reader — angst & comfort
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word count. 1073
warnings. potentially triggering content? mentions of dieting and working out. might be a hard read for some?
Comparison is the thief of joy. 
It's something you've always struggled with, the endless questioning of yourself, picking yourself apart in ways you believe you don't fit in. It's an easy habit to slip into but a difficult one to break out of. 
As of late, those feelings resurfaced - finding more and more 'faults' when you put yourself up against others. Models. It was as if you got sucked into a spiral of scrolling through images and doubting yourself, all of it leading to you curled up crying in bed. Always. 
No matter how upset you'd be, you'd still find yourself swiping up to see more - feeding that little gremlin in your mind. 
And after a little while, you decided you wanted to do something about those feelings - granted the reasoning behind it wasn't coming from a good place, but you'd be bettering yourself, and that's what you originally wanted.
So you changed your routine: waking up before six, secretly squeezing in an hour workout before joining Bucky on his morning runs, coming back home to have breakfast —an apple— then going about your day only to workout again once you get home. 
You thought food was the enemy, so you restricted yourself with crazy diets and regimes you hear about in Hollywood. You tried a water cleanse, a juice cleanse, keto, even fasting, but no matter how hard you thought you tried, your efforts would not be enough for what you wanted.
All it left you feeling was tired and crappy. No matter how much you hated your body, your body hated you more for what you were doing to it.
You thought you were being sneaky and secretive in the way you were going about it, but you couldn't be more wrong. Bucky, your boyfriend, knew something was running rampant in your mind: every dismissal of a snack you previously loved, every time he watched you dodge a mirror —or on the contrast of seeing you stare too long in one— all of it only confirming what he had hoped not to be true.
It's a sensitive topic, especially to bring up to a loved one. Bucky knew you weren't going to be forthcoming, so he wanted to take the first step.
You were in your shared bedroom, sorting through your dresser to find a clean pair of workout clothes - all of your others drenched in sweat from your previous workouts. 
"Hey, honey?" Bucky calls out, knocking on the ajar door. 
You turn around to see his sweet face, your own almost embarrassed from being caught. "Yeah?" 
"It's almost dinnertime. What do you say about going to that restaurant downtown? The one you love?" he asks, trying to scope you out.
"I have some stuff in the fridge. I bought a bunch of kale that needs eating before it goes bad," you reply, turning away, redirecting your focus to the clothes in your drawer.
Bucky leaves his spot in the doorframe, instead walking over to take a seat at the foot of the bed - behind from where you stand. "That's not food," he softly shakes his head. "Rabbits eat that. Let's get something good. What about a chicken sandwich? Pizza?"
"It is food," you reply. "Put on some pepper and olive oil, then bake it— it's good," you add, trying to convince him and yourself. 
He faintly sighs, resting his elbows on his knees. "No one likes kale."
"Maybe you're not cooking it right," you playfully protest, trying to distract him. 
"No, I cook it right," he stands up, walking to stand beside you. "We haven't gone out to eat for a while. I miss spending time with you like that."
You missed it too - far more than you'd ever anticipate. But you didn't want to slip up again. You already had a few times this week and you didn't want to make a habit of it. 
"I do, too, but I already ate. Maybe in the week?"
"What did you have?" he asks, craning his neck to look at your face.
You hesitate, not having an answer. "I can't remember."
He exhales weakly, your unknown confirmation making his heart sink. His hand reaches for yours, the act like he was pulling your attention back to him. "That means you haven't eaten," he utters, his tone soft - the meaning behind his words almost scolding. 
You feel cornered, and once again, you have no answer for him. 
His grip tightens, gently turning you back to him. "You need to eat, honey. Your body needs it... I know what you've been doing."
After hearing something you didn't want to, your stomach drops. Bucky knew.
"I should've said something when I noticed it," he shakes his head, feeling at fault. "You know you can't keep doing what you're doing?"
You nod meekly, avoiding his eyes. You did know that what you were doing was unhealthy, but you wanted to be like them. If they can do it, why can't you?
"Why have you been doing it?" he asks faintly, cocking his neck to meet your gaze.
"Are you telling me off?"
He's quick to shake his head, denying it almost instantly - both his palms reaching to cup your face. "God, no," his soft eyes bore into yours. "Of course not, honey. Never," he reassures, thumbs grazing over your cheeks. "I just want you to look after yourself."
"I do," you hesitate a response, the words delicate - almost inaudible.
"You don't," he mumbles. "The working out, not eating? You're hurting yourself," he pauses. "If you want to change, I can help you. But we'll do it the right way, okay? None of what you've been doing."
All you can do is nod, silently acknowledging your accidental wrongdoings.
"Just small changes," he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. "That's all you need, okay?"
"Okay," you faintly smile, agreeing to the help. 
"So," he starts, removing the placement on the sides of your face. "We're going to go out for dinner. And you're going to order whatever you want— whatever it is you've been wanting to eat," he pauses, noticing the hesitancy in your expression. "And we're going to order water instead of wine. Small changes."
The thought of ordering a meal you've restricted yourself from is enough to make your smile genuine. The idea of having your lover's support making it all that much easier.
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areyouwell · 3 months ago
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Algophobia
Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of pain. Children and adults may have Algophobia if they possess an extreme aversion to feeling pain, typically physical.
Ch.7
Ch.6, Ch.5,5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <-
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: nightmares, vomit, uhhhhhhh nothing intense really, for once... honestly can't remember and i literally JUST reread it :')
Word Count: 14.5K
A/N: told ya i'd keep writing. sorry this one took a little extra time, i'm literally on a train in France having finished editing and proofreading the chapter like, two minutes ago so slay boots. can't believe this fic is almost over like holy shit... congrats to anyone who's ready all of it so far because it's well within the world count of a novel and by the end will probably be over that threshold... so slay of us good job teamsquad also sorry if the layout is janky i hate posting from my phone
Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor
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Birds. The chittering of swallows, to be exact. Beyond the soft beams of sunlight through the quartered window, the chittering of swallows had caressed him awake, a gentle breeze rustling the orange leaves against the glass, whispering secrets into the light of the morning.
It wasn’t rare Logan woke up before you, in fact, considering how little of a morning person you were, it was rare you woke up before midday full-stop—and this morning seemed no different. Occasional snores bubbled from your chest, you lightly swiped at an invisible irritation around your nose as you turned in his arms, nestling tighter into his chest. Logan hummed a tender smile, smoothing your brow with the pad of his thumb. Your features furrowed as you attempted to escape his touch, unappreciative of the disturbance no matter how gentle.
Huffing a small laugh, he allowed you to burrow further into his embrace, tightening his arms around your body. Six months of this. Six months of the quiet peace of escape. Honestly, he couldn’t be more thankful for the raid on the mansion that day. Here he was, the love of his life tangled in his arms, slowly waking on a sunny, breezy autumnal morning.
His eyes raised to beyond the window, smelling the rain on the air even from inside. Maybe an hour away? An hour and a half at a push. He groaned, realising he’d need to get the bike into the barn before the showers hit. Was leaving the cosy confines of the bed really worth saving and having to scale off some rust later? Absolutely not, but Logan knew you’d be mad at him if he let a splash of rainwater ruin all his hard work.
Pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your brow, your features scrunched in disapproval as she shifted you out of his embrace having to move quickly before you searched for him again and attached yourself to his arm. You whined gravelly protests but settled back down when he pulled the covers back up over your shoulders. He’d make a coffee for you when he came back in. One of those strong ‘morning’ coffees you called them. With at least three heaps of espresso, no sugar, no cream, just caffeine.
Slipping on a fresh pair of jeans and a deep green flannel that you said brought out the colours in his eyes –utter bullshit in his correct opinion– Logan tip-toed down the stairs almost comically slow. He knew you wouldn’t wake. The sun could have exploded and you’d be more irritated if it had woken you up before 1 pm, but he still liked to take care not to disturb you, more out of principle than anything else.
The morning was as crisp as he initially thought, his skin prickly with the cool breeze. He hadn’t bothered with his jacket, since he would only be out for less than thirty seconds. Pulling the tarp from the bike and flicking up the kickstand, he wheeled it back up the small slope and into the barn. If things continued going the way they were going, Logan thought about perhaps clearing out some of the rusted old machinery, maybe making room for a chicken pen, or maybe a stall for a cow or something. You’d be good at raising animals, he thought. And he preferred the idea of getting fresh produce rather than having to head to the store every week or so.
It was an idea that refused to leave his head as he looked around the small space. Just against the far wall, he could imagine a little coop where the old, rusty plough now lay discarded. It would be a ballache to remove it, and Logan didn’t doubt the sharp edges where the metal had rusted away would get a good few swipes in, but it seemed worth it in his mind’s eye to see you crouched next to the nest, holding up a single egg proudly as if you’d laid it yourself.
But if he was to get started, he’d need his jacket. And maybe a thick pair of gloves. Sure, he could heal, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get pissed at him when he wouldn’t take these kinds of precautions, bringing up that one time he said he wanted to do things like a normal couple, to which you’d use to your advantage. “Normal people don’t simply heal their wounds three seconds later, Lo’.”
It was endearing, how much you cared. How hard you tried to keep him safe despite the fact he literally couldn’t be hurt. With a fond smile tugging his lips up at the thought of you, Logan draped the tarp back over the bike, securing the tags around the frame before patting the motorcycle, much like Todd did.
Todd.
Logan blinked. Why did he suddenly have the urge to tear into the man’s chest and rip out his fucking heart? Was his anger returning? But Todd hadn’t done anything, at least not that he could remember. Sure, he was flirtatious with you, but you never let it go too far and it made you laugh, so there wasn’t much harm there. So where the fuck did this sudden urge to split his skull come from?
Taking a deep, calming breath, he attempted to release his anger with his exhale, feeling the rage simmer down slightly, though still extremely accessible beneath the surface. Maybe he was too far away from you. Oh, he was down so bad if that was the reason. He refused to believe it until he left the barn, pulling the bolt shut, and turning to see you in the doorway, two mugs of steaming coffee grasped in your hands.
Was there a better view? He couldn’t think of anything sweeter than what he was seeing, the woman he loved, leaning against the doorframe to the cabin he shared with her away from the rest of the world, safe and free and at peace. Your soft smile could start a war, and your laugh could end it. There was no clean line to where you started and he ended, your very souls totally and completely intertwined.
And you lost her.
Logan whirled at the trees above, searching for where he swore he’d just heard a voice hiss. But he saw nothing other than clouded blue skies and fluttering leaves like an artist’s palette of a sunset. You called his name and he slowly turned his head back to you.
And froze completely.
A small crimson stain started to spread from the centre of your chest, sanguine blood flowing from a fresh wound down your front. Panic leached the colour from his face as he lurched forward, only for his feet to be stuck to the ground. He looked down frantically, tugging at his thighs in an attempt to pull himself free. You were supposed to be safe. He was supposed to keep you safe.
A strangled gurgle was ripped from your throat and he looked back to you just as you opened your mouth, a fountain of blood bubbling from your scarlet-stained lips. Trying to scream resulted in nothing but a rippling stream of sanguine with a guttural yelp. A hand gripped your shoulder from the dark beyond the doorway, a serrated knife dragging a thin line across the hollow of your neck as your palms flew to the arm holding you still in a weak attempt to stop him.
Logan desperately clawed at his legs, eyes unable to look away as Dr.Kreva stepped out from behind your bleeding body, the knife held in his closed grip. A roar tore up his voice, scraping up along his throat as the serrated edge of the blade inched further into the tendons of your neck, snapping through the muscles with a sickening squelch. Your eyes widened as your voice cut off, hands gripping Kreva’s arm falling limp by your sides, light fading from your irises.
Smoke rose from somewhere behind the cabin, and Logan could only blink before the wood erupted into flame, licks and tendrils of scorching reds devouring the exterior. He could do nothing, stuck in a quagmire of his guilt, hands of fire clawing up your legs, igniting your clothes, melting the flesh from your bones. Kreva’s glasses shone in the golden glow, stepping back into the inferno and disappearing as the support beam collapsed.
Staring in abject horror, Logan fell forward, finally released by whatever held his fast. His knees bit as he struck the earth, facing your skeleton lying face down, blackened bones of your hand outstretched towards him in a final, desperate plea for help.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He whispered to your vacant corpse. He’d failed you. Keeping you safe was his only fucking job and he’d failed. He promised you he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t abandon you, and he’d fucking failed.
The shadows rippled and contorted around your skeleton, rising from the ground to conjure seven figures. The same silhouettes he’d woken up to stare him down six months ago. Simultaneously, their hands stretched out over you, void-like fingers splayed, and your bones began to sink into the earth.
The ghost of your body rippled beneath the surface of the darkness before the black smoke curled up from the soil, an eighth shadow figure reforming from the void to complete what he had suspected ever since he’d read the file. There were eight of you. Eight Subjects.
Nine Lives Minus One.
They were the literal shadows of your past. And it terrified him that you had now become one. Logan’s heart thundered in his chest as he looked between the eight figures, shadowing faces simultaneously snapping to look at him, head cocking at unnatural angles.
The one he knew to be yours reached up to its neck, wrapping its long thin fingers around its own throat, before squeezing. A scream echoed in his ears, tearing at the walls of his mind before he was thrust forward, falling through to reality.
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Nausea roiled in his gut as Logan jolted awake, bolt upright. The image of your charring body, flesh dripping from your bones burned in his mind’s eye, and that slight nausea shifted to the undeniable urge to vomit.
Staggering from his bed to the bathroom, bile burned his throat as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet, the sounds of his own gagging echoing about the empty stall.
Two months. It had been two months since he’d lost you. And every day felt like thirty. Rage and grief accompanied him like a constant companion. The memories of your laughter, your smile, your teasing comments haunted the halls of the school, corridors once alight with comfort and giggles now felt cold damp. Absent.
They were making progress. They reassured him every long, long day, they were making progress with locating you. Charles had almost locked himself away with Cerebro to locate you, but it was difficult to get a read on anything when any signatures he felt from the once-destroyed facility kept slipping from his mental grasp. Subject One, or Obscurity, was somehow hiding all and any neurotransmitters from the old environment centre. Either that or what whole place was coated entirely with steel, which was also a possibility.
But none of them knew because nobody could get close enough to fucking find out. It was damn near impossible without alerting upwards of sixty armed guards to their approaching location. And whilst Logan would tank the bullets and take them all on alone, Scott wouldn’t let him, and neither would he let him endanger any other member of the team by storming a full frontal assault.
So Logan was forced to wait. And wait. And wait. Every day, you slipped further from him. That first night without you, he’d borderline commandeered the Blackbird to get to Todd. He needed to know what happened. Why he did do it? And it wasn’t a polite conversation.
Rage coursed through his veins as he sliced open the lock to Todd’s garage, throwing up the doors with enough force to break the mechanism completely. Pausing only to sniff the air, Logan growled as he scented Todd’s presence, a frantic Ororo trailing behind after him, placing a weak attempt at a placating hand on his bicep. But he didn’t want to be calmed down. Logan wanted blood. Fuck that, he craved blood. Wanted to taste it as he ripped Todd’s throat out with his damn teeth.
Though the office light was off, Todd’s scent was stronger in that direction, and Logan was fairly certain he was hiding. Good. Smartest decision he’d made in the last six months. Although he would have been smarter to start running the second he betrayed Logan’s trust and had you ripped away from him.
With a balled fist, Logan thrust his hand through the glass on the door, barely wincing as shards of glass embedded themselves in his knuckles. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to that kind of sensation. And true to his senses, Todd swore from behind the desk, his voice shaky. Good.
“It better have been fuckin’ worth it for ya.” Logan snarled, ripping the desk from its roots and tossing it aside as if it weighed nothing. Various effects scattered about the floor, a lamp shattering upon impact, files and paperwork strewn like flyers in the wind.
“Jus’ w-wait a minute. I didn’t ‘ave a choice. Bastard threatened my family, what would you ‘ave done?” Todd held his hands up in defence, bowing his head as Logan’s adamantium claws slid from his freshly healed knuckles. The man’s eyes widened in horror. “Yer a fuckin’ mutant?”
Ororo’s eyes blanched, lightning crashing through a telephone pole beyond the doors outside. The blood drained from Todd’s face, as the realisation dawned on him that, they were all mutants.
Logan hated how he understood the man’s fear. And he was right. If the roles had been reversed, if it had been you who was being threatened, he would have cracked in an instant. If your safety was compromised, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure right whatever had happened.
“Fuck. You’re a fuckin’ weasel, Todd. I fuckin’ trusted you!” It was taking every fibre of his self-control not to plunge his claws through his throat and rip through his tendons, but he took a deep, steadying breath.
“What happened, Todd?” Ororo asked, her eyes fading back to their natural colour.
Todd sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Round three months after y’all moved in, this glasses-wearing sleezebag waltzed into this shop like ‘e owned the fuckin’ place, askin’ after the pair of yous. I told ‘im to get lost, I weren’t in the business of information. Till ‘e asked about me wife. And me daughter, Lisa. Put the fear of God in me I tell ya.
“I didn’t ‘ave a choice, Logan, I swear it. I’d never ‘ave told ‘im anythin’ if I knew this were gonna ‘appen.” He pleaded, and Logan had to step away to stop himself from at least punching the shit out of him.
“That’s why you called me, isn’t it? Not cuz of the money, but cuz you knew what was gonna happen.” The question was rhetorical. Of course that was the reason. And if he could turn back time, he would have picked up the phone in an instant, no questions asked. Maybe he could have avoided this altogether and you’d be safe and sound, curled up by his side, back at the mansion.
But as it stood, Logan’s mutation wasn’t time travel.
“I didn’t know exactly, but yeah, I knew somethin’ was gonna ‘appen tonight…” Todd admitted, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “I liked ‘er Logan. I did. She was–”
“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, running a stressed hand through his hair. It was only 4:36 am. You had roughly two hours on him, but if he left now and took the bike, maybe he could catch you. Or better yet, if he took the Blackbird…”
“Logan…?”
No. He’d have to land the Blackbird, which would take far too long and he also wasn’t used to piloting something like that.
“Logan?”
He’d take the bike then. Head back to the cabin with the truck and exchange vehicles. But that would take too long, even if he floored it. Fuck! The truck was nowhere near fast enough either. He had to make a choice here, sacrifice time with the small possibility of catching up to you, or possibly sacrifice you and tail Kreva so he leads him straight back to the facility.
“Logan!”
He blinked, turning back to Ororo, who had her arms folded across her chest, her brows pinched in sympathy. “You can’t go after her. It’s too late. We need to strategise this because clearly, they’re expecting you to follow her immediately,” she explained, and he grit his teeth. She was right, and he fucking hated it. Because every second wasted here was yet another second you were in their capture, and fuck knows what they would do to you this time. The thought terrified him. “Come on… we’ll head back to the school, figure something out.” Logan didn’t move, his eyes hard as he glared at Ororo, the thought of leaving your behind had his gut writhing like a ball of vicious, furious snakes. Storm sighed, realising he wasn’t going to be convinced so easily. “She was a member of our team, Logan. She was our friend. We’re not abandoning her…” There was a determination in her eye that genuinely gave Logan a kernel of hope. She was right. You were their friend. You’d made such an impact in their lives, and they weren’t about to give you up so easily.
With an extended sigh, he nodded. Fine. He’d play by their rules. But the moment things stagnated, he’d fucking find you himself.
“I’ll look after yer truck. She’s–”
“I don’t fucking care.” he snapped, not bothering to spare so much as a glance over his shoulder before returning out to the jet.
That was two fucking months ago. And he was certain things had stagnated and he just wasn’t being told. Scott had banned him from surveillance missions, claiming his fuse was too short for missions such as those, and that if he saw where you were being held, he’d snap and tear through anything and everything in his path to get to you.
Not something Logan could disagree with, but he only acquiesced because Jean convinced him it was their best bet at finding you. It physically fucking hurt not to be involved in your rescue missions, but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t particularly want anybody else hurt or captured or killed or whatever the fuck they’d do to them.
Making sure his stomach wasn’t about to surprise him with another surge of bile, Logan stood to the basin, running the cold water from the tap and cupping his hands, splashing his face vigorously in a lame attempt to wash away the nightmare. Because that’s all it was. Just a nightmare. And despite him having intimate knowledge of your mutation, the fact that the last he saw of you, you were bleeding out on a floor of tarmac, scared the shit out of him. He knew you could heal. There was documented proof of you healing from several bullet wounds, however he couldn’t shake the image from his brain.
You barely knew what had happened before you dropped to the floor, your delicately concerned smile for him morphing and shifting to an expression of complete and utter shock. The crack of your skull on the pavement, the harsh gurgle of your coagulated blood as you spat at Kreva….
You didn’t have a choice. He knew that. He knew your body would have given into the shadow in a desperate attempt to heal yourself of the bullet in your chest, but that didn’t make the memories hurt any less.
That was the last he saw of you, and it fucking haunted him. Exhaling a shaky breath, Logan stared into the droplets in the sink, before raising his head, limp strands of dark brown hair hanging damp around his eyes. His gaze shifted to the reflection of the shower. It had taken him almost a week after being back to garner the courage to use it. Not only because every time he closed his eyes he saw your bleeding chest and blanching face, but also because it was identical to the shower in your ensuite, and it fucking hurt to be near it, let alone in it.
The porcelain cracked beneath his grip, pulling him from his memories back into the present. There were times he wished he could simply let himself be lost to the past. At least he was with you there. But he promised he’d find you. He promised he’d never leave you. And he didn’t intend to break it.
Shrugging on the same flannel he’d been wearing for days and a pair of extremely worn jeans, Logan checked his watch. Two minutes past nine. His lips tugged in a bittersweet smile. You’d be furious. Running a hand down the side of his face, Logan opened the door.
Only to find Scott standing on the other side, balled fist held up as if to knock a few times on Logan’s face. If he had the energy, Logan would ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, but it seemed the team was taking it in turns to make sure he was alright now and then. Poor Scott. It seemed he’d drawn the short straw on a particularly shit morning.
“What?” He asked blankly, fighting the urge to silently barge past the man. Sure, they may have shared a sweet moment of understanding after he’d lost you, but that was two fucking months ago. And moments of sweet understanding weren’t enough to make up for the fact you were still missing.
Scott blew out a sigh of relief, clearly expecting Logan to simply walk past him. “Uh, Marie’s looking for you. Says it’s urgent? She wouldn’t talk to any of us…” Scott sounded almost suspicious, but the moment he mentioned it was urgent, Logan was gone, shouldering past him and down the hallway. “She’s out the back!” Cyclops called after him as if he needed any kind of help with directions. He could smell a plan brewing from a mile away.
True to his nose, and annoyingly, Scott’s directions, he found Marie out by the pond, alongside Kitty, Bobby, Peter, Jubilee, Julian and to his heartwarming surprise, Artie. All of them were dressed in their gear, other than Artie who’d simply donned a black pair of trousers, a black t-shirt and a matching beanie.
“We want to help,” Marie said by way of greeting, and Logan folded his arms across his chest, releasing a slightly exasperated breath. Honestly, he was shocked it took this long for them all to catch on. He was back, and you were nowhere to be seen. Classes had all but ceased completely and the Professor wouldn’t be seen for days, sometimes weeks on end. The rest of their little team nodded with boundless determination.
His chest ached with the knowledge there was no way he was about to let these students, your students, run head-first into danger, no matter how much they wanted to. “Look, kids, as it stands, we don’t even know–” he paused, having to steel his nerves. “We don’t even know if she’s still alive.” It was entirely true. He knew you were alive. You had to be. He’d feel it if you weren’t, right? That’s at least how it felt to him. You were part of each other now, neither whole without the other. If you were head, he’d know it.
Kitty clenched her jaw, her hands balling into firsts by her sides, and Logan felt a pang of guilt. She knew. She must have known he was lying. She was somewhere between a student and an X-man, hovering between still learning and a member of the team. Being so close to you, however, it also seemed she had been left out of all the fun. His sympathy morphed into empathy, feeling her frustration as his own.
“She’s still alive.” Your friend whispered through clenched teeth, and Logan blew out a sigh. “They won’t let them help, sure, they’re still students, but I’m not. I’m part of the goddamn team, Logan. And so are you!” She hissed, and Marie and Bobby shared a look of concern before Rogue’s hand touched her shoulder compassionately.
“We don’t care that we’re students. You said it yourself, we’re stronger than anyone realises. We can help.” Bobby urged, and if Logan was being honest with himself, their argument was fairly convincing. They were strong, much stronger than even you realised. But he also knew that if–
No. Not if. When they got you back, if you ever found out that he’d allowed the students to help on the mission, he was pretty sure you’d castrate him.
“I’m sorry, I can’t let ya. Not only cuz you’re still students, but you all know, if she found out I was the one who let you help, I’d be killed.” Huffed a smile of understanding. Of course, they wanted to help you, you’d helped so many of them in the past. But he didn’t think that was it. This wasn’t out of some favour for a favour obligation towards you. You were loved. You were so so loved, by so many.
And by nobody more than him.
“Be our spy then.” Jubilee offered from behind Marie, to which Logan raised a brow.
“And how would I do that when? I’m not involved in the planning.” He tried so hard to keep the frustrated growl from his voice, but Artie's slight step back proved his failure. Fuck.
“You gotta convince them. Please? For us?” The hope in Marie’s voice took him right back to where he’d found her almost three years ago now, running from her past. Running from herself. It made sense how you and she got along so well. You were both running.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Logan could feel seven pairs of eyes all trained on him. He wasn’t one to bend to peer pressure, but at the same time, he needed an excuse for himself to get involved, and if doing it for the kids was enough, then that’s what he’d do.
“Alright. Alright. Damn, you sure none of you has a persuasion mutation?” He asked in a lame attempt to lighten the mood. At least Artie found it funny, the kid giggling away to himself in the back.
Marie beamed in gratitude, leaping into his arms and giving him one of the squeeziest hugs Logan thinks he’s ever received. “I knew you’d help! Thanks, Logan, as soon as you hear anything, please let us know, kay?” She stepped back and Logan once again felt that familiar stab of guilt impale his gut. He knew he was going to have to lie to them, because the moment they found out some kind of progress had been made, they’d be out the door like a shot before he could even start to yell ‘wait’.
“Yeah yeah, just don’t mention anythin’ ‘kay? They don’t let me know anythin’ as it is, so this’ll be hard enough without them thinkin’’m feeding back information to the damn students.” Logan grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Okay?” He repeated after a beat of silence, only this time to a chorus of nodded heads and various ‘yes sir’s. “Good, now back to classes, all of you.”
“But… Professor Grey didn’t turn up to teach us…” Julian chimed in, to Logan’s irate twitch of his brow.
“Then go and study.” His voice left no room for argument as each student bowed their head in defeat and dragged their feet back inside until his was just him and Kitty left behind. Logan studied her face for a bit, much more crestfallen than he’d ever seen her. “Y’alright?” He asked, though instantly kicking himself for the ridiculous question. She was probably just as alright as he was, which was absolutely not alright at all.
Kitty clenched her jaw again, unable to raise her eyes further than the blades of grass at her feet. “She left again…” Logan’s heart cracked for her. You hadn’t had time to explain anything eight months ago after the attack. He didn’t even think you saw her before you left, unable to say goodbye before you were on the road with him. And now, he’d returned and you were still gone.
“She didn’t want to, kiddo. She didn’t have a choice…” he didn’t know how much Kitty knew about your situation, but he assumed anything regarding who you were, what had happened in your past and who had taken you was kept on a need-to-know basis. He hated every tear that spilled from the poor girl’s eyes, her frustration conflicting her her confusion. Wordlessly, Logan stepped forward and enveloped her in his embrace, finding the way she instantly fell into his chest heartbreaking.
“I miss her so much…” she managed to sob, her fingers clutching onto the arms of his jacket. Tears pricked his own hazel eyes, having to tilt his head up to stop them from falling. He hadn’t heard his own agony spoken aloud like this, and pain wracked the centre of his chest.
“Me too.” was all he could utter back, fighting to keep his voice stable, clearing his throat in an attempt to loosen the lump constricting his breathing. Kitty stepped back from his arms, furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her palms.
“Right, yeah, ‘course you do. Sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“You’re good. It’s actually kinda… refreshing. Everyone tip-toes ‘round me like ’m gonna bite their head off. Can’t really blame 'em.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. He guessed he should be grateful for the way people were trying to be respectful, but it only resulted in pissing him off monumentally.
“You have been looking like you want to tear the school down recently…” Kitty giggled lightly, and Logan relaxed, thankful he was able to bring a smile back to the girl’s face. His chest constricted as he thought of your proud smile. Teaching the kids he could do. Making them feel better in any kind of capacity? That’s where he fell short, but you excelled. “S’just… Jade was like a sister to me. I hated her for what happened, but we leant on each other so much, she became the sister to me Jade used to be. And I never told her I didn’t hate her anymore. Because I did, or, at least part of me did, but I let that go…” Kitty took a deep breath, tilting her head to the sky as fresh tears stung her eyes. “What if– what if I don’t get to tell her that?”
Logan grit his teeth. “You will. Listen, I still gotta buncha shit I wanna say to her, and there’s nothin’ that can stop me from sayin’ it. We’ll get her back, aight? I promise.” He sounded a lot more confident than he felt, but Kitty blew out a long breath, her tears remaining behind her lashes. If he could bring her some kind of comfort, then perhaps he could start believing it himself. You weren’t dead. He was set on that. But you were in pain. He knew that too. Because whatever they did to you in the past wouldn’t hold a candle to how things had changed in the last seven years. New technology, new information, new drugs.
New weapons.
He shook his head. Thinking about what you were going through wouldn’t help to get you back. And as if sensing his train of thought, Kitty stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. “We will get her back.” She reiterated, only this time it was for his benefit. He offered her a weak, grim smile, before turning back to head into the mansion once again.
Only to be stopped in his tracks by Jean who came sprinting out the door, almost colliding straight into him. She skidded to a stop, pausing as if she couldn’t find the right words. Logan raised a brow.
“We have a lead.” Was all she said, though her words took a moment to register, Kitty came barrelling up behind him. “Or rather, we found a way in.”
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Rap rap rap!
A groan rumbled from your lips as you held your pillow over your ears, your head pounding. Your shift last night had been long and brutal, and that was without the endless shots your coworkers poured for you.
Rap rap rap!
“Fuck off!” You called back, hearing a light giggle from beyond your messy bedroom door.
“C’mon, it’s almost midday! You can’t sleep forever!” You attempted to hide beneath the covers of your bed as Morgana opened the door, her face as bright as it usually was this early in the morning. And by this early, you really meant eleven-forty.
“I’m serious Morgo, fuck off. My shift was exhausting and I just want to sleep forever…” you complained, almost hiding as she drew back the curtains to your window. “Morgana?!”
“Get. Up!” She leapt onto your bed, hardly mindful of wherever your limbs lay, before snuggling in next to you, crimson strands of curly hair falling into your face. You sighed heavily. You loved Morgo, you really did, but she could be a total pain in your ass sometimes.
“She still not up yet?” Rowan called from the door, and you swore lowly as he too stepped into your room, followed by Atlas.
“Yeah sure, party in my room. Free real estate up in here!” You called sarcastically from beneath the covers as Rowan attempted to pull them from your body. You gasped in horror, clutching the duvet like your life depended on it.
“Don’t you fucking dare Rowan, I will drown you in shadow I swear to fucking god!” You bit, earning yourself a fit of giggled from Morgana and an appalled gape from Atlas. Your brother placed his hands on his hips, raising a light gold brow as he looked down at you.
“If you could control your powers like I can, maybe I’d believe you, freakshow. C’mon, ouuuuuut of bed.” He strained against your strength as you briefly played tug of war, before you gave up when Atlas stepped in to help your brother, ripping the covers from your clutch with their combined strength and dragging Morgana with it, the girl falling off the foot of your bed with a heavy thump.
“Hey! What the hell?” She slapped Atlas’ thigh and the poor boy jumped back, offering her a shrug of an apology. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Ya know, I don’t know a single twenty-two-year-old who lays in bed all day. Oh, wait, yeah I do. It’s you.” Rowan poked your now exposed foot and you went to kick him half-heartedly. He took a single step back, out of your range.
“Yeah well, none of you fuckers work nights so–”
“I do!” Erin poked her head around the door, toothbrush sticking out from between her white frothy lips. It seems you weren’t the only one out late. “Well, shometimes, it–”
“Take ya brush out ya mouth, Erin…” Atlas sighed, a hand braced against his brow as if being around you all was exhausting. The girl rolled her eyes, tilting her head up so her minty saliva wouldn’t drip all over the wooden floors.
“It depends on the rota, I don’t work late every shift, unlike you.” She finished, placing the toothbrush back in her mouth and dipping out of sight. You heard the tap run as Erin spit out her toothpaste, returning around the door as she wiped her mouth, “We need to get you a new job, girlie. This one’s destroying you. Honestly, you could carry my weekly shop in the bags under your eyes.” Erin crossed the room with the sole purpose of prodding the centre of your nose, before plopping her ass down on the bed next to you.
You looked at the four of them individually, finding a bubble of happiness blooming in your chest. You loved these people. They were your family. They were everything to you. And despite your shitty job, your long hours, the tiny apartment that the seven of you were supposed to share, and how antisocial Naji was, you found yourself feeling extremely grateful for your circumstances.
“I’ll look into it…” you sighed, much to Erin and Altas’ shared glee. Clearly, he was getting tired of healing your various bar-wounds, coming home with various cuts on your palm from where you’d completely misjudged the fall of your knife when slicing up garnish.
“Knew ya would!” Erin chimed, twirling a strand of her badly dyed green hair between her fingers. Her justification was that she could control nature, so surely she should look green, no? But her original black roots had started to show through and she couldn’t be bothered to go through the faff of dyeing it all over again, so she’d just decided to grow it out.
With an irritated sigh, you stretched your arms high above your head, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to rid yourself of the crick in your neck. “Fine, I’ll get up. God, I hate Saturdays. None of you motherfuckers seem to work weekends either.” You grumbled, shooting an exasperated look to Atlas as he muttered ‘language’ under his breath.
“Did you have ya dream again?” Morgana asked, finally removing herself from your floor and dusting herself off. Rowan and Atlas went to head back down the stairs, where you could now smell bacon rising from the kitchen. Maybe it was worth getting up if Rowan was making breakfast. Or lunch, you guessed.
“Hm?” You asked, having not listened to her question at all. The girl rolled her eyes, slapping your arm as she followed you to the bathroom.
“Your dream? Did ya have it? I need to know more about Mr.Sexy and his hot claws.” She grinned and you snorted a laugh, before taking a moment to try to remember if you even dreamed at all last night. Though your awakening had been rude, you’d awoken feeling a slight panic in your chest which had nothing to do with Morgana storming your room. Although if you were being quite honest, you didn’t really want her to know more than she already did. You had a sneaking suspicion she was writing down your dreams in the hopes that she would dream of your nighttime visitor.
“Yeah, actually, I did…” you started hesitantly, giving her reflection in the mirror a flat look as she clapped her hands excitedly. Erin scooted over across your bed so she could be involved in the conversation, listening through the open door. “I don’t remember much of it,” you confessed, rolling your eyes as Morgana’s face fell. “But it was pretty mundane. We were just…” you took a moment, pretending to try and remember what it was about. “We were just chatting. On a bed, but like, a four-poster bed. Same one as last time, with the whole crossed gun thing above the headboard” It was one you’d genuinely had before, and Morgana’s shoulder sagged in disappointment. “Sorry Morgo.”
“Wait that’s so cute, why’re you apologising?” Erin called from the bed, and you snorted a laugh.
“Because I’ve had that one before. It seems to be recurring.” You shrugged, feeling a little nugget of guilt swell in your gut. Now you’d thought about it, your dream last night had been harrowing. You were caked in blood, lying on the road. He was reaching for you, stationary, the world around swirling and blurry with shadows before you blinked and he was gone. Two months you’d been having dreams similar to this one, or at least starring the same man. He was incredibly attractive, hence Morg’s nickname for him after you described him to her, but you knew nothing about him. Each dream he was silent. You were too. You were just near each other, either doing mundane things or going through what you assumed was the worst moment of your dream self’s life. It was really fucking weird.
“Awww… I wanted something new.” Morgana pouted and you narrowed your eyes at her reflection, spitting your toothpaste into the basin before splashing water across your face in a lame attempt to freshen up and wash away the memory of your nightmare.
Twirling to face her, you placed a hand on your hip. “Yeah well, seems my mind’s just conjuring shit on repeat now sooooo…” you made a face and Morgana stuck her tongue out at you, before padding out the bathroom with you in tow.
“Still, s’interesting you get dreams of the same guy. S’like you’re having a relationship in your head… wait no that just sounds sad.” Erin furrowed her brows in an attempt to think of another way of putting it, but gave up almost instantly. You flopped back down on your bed, leaning forward to your chest of drawers against the left side wall, and the fact you could easily reach the drawers from your bed was a testament to just how small your room was. Pulling out a loose pair of sweats and a grey hoodie, you didn’t hesitate to strip in front of the two girls. Having known them since childhood, it was an uncommon occurrence for the three of you to change in front of each other. And this was no different. Though Morgana’s brows furrowed as her eyes found a scar cutting straight across your chest, from just above your left breast, over the centre of your breastbone, to down below the right-hand side of your ribcage. It was gnarled and jagged, a slice made without much care, but you couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have it.
“That’s new, when’dya get that?” She asked, eyeing you suspiciously. You’re head cocked to one side, raising a brow in confusion.
“I’ve always had this, whaddya mean?” An ember of concern ignited in your gut as you regarded her for a moment. You watched the way her eyes lost focus, almost dissociating for a moment, before she shook her head to clear the haze behind her eyes.
“Right… yeah no you totally have. Sorry, must be goin’ nuts.” The girl grinned, and you inhaled a relieved breath. You didn’t need Morgana careening off the rails right now. She was the one who kept you stable, or at least less grumpy.
“S’alright. Tough few days?” You tugged on your sweats, already hating the fact that in two hours, you’d have to be getting ready for work. It took an hour to commute to the bar, that’s if the buses were on time and not disappearing randomly. God you fucking hated the public transport here.
Morgana nodded a little absently as if still fighting back whatever brain fog she’d just encountered. “Yeah, something like that…” She trailed off, and you didn’t push any further. It happens to all of you from time to time. You were talking to Altlas the other day about the way you’d all graffiti the walls of your first hideout when you were kids, talking in detail about the first sketch you’d done before transferring it onto the wall. Only, he didn’t remember it that way. You went back and forth for a while, until he had that same faraway look enter his eye, and all of a sudden he was agreeing with you, as if a switch was flipped in his brain.
“Oh! Before he left Joseph said you could have the rest of his milkshake, by the way. In payment for the pasta you made him yesterday.” Erin chimed in, examining her nails, her legs sprawled across your bed like it was her own. And honestly, you all acted like that. The rooms were all pretty communal at this point, you’d known each other for so long.
You perked up a little. Milkshake and bacon? Maybe getting up before midday was worth it after all. Not that it was much before midday now, and in fact, the small alarm on your watch just told you it had just gone twelve. Only two hours til you needed to leave.
Fucking great.
“Kind of him, I’d take it with me if Carlos wasn’t such a stickler for company drinks. I think he’d stab me if I brought in my own…” You half-joked, to both Erin and Morgana’s morbid shock.
“Girl we really need to get you a new job.”
“Like, ASAP…” Morg finished, and you scoffed slightly. You didn’t need one that badly. Just one within the next few years would be nice…
You blew out a breath, standing from your bed after pulling on a pair of warm socks. There was a winter chill in the air, and you were certain this year was going to be a cold one. You could feel it in your bones. Rubbing at your arms, you almost slipped down the stairs, Morgana’s hand instantly steadying your steps in a hand clutching your arm. How fucking tired were you? It felt like your legs straight up didn’t damn work.
“Enjoy your trip?” You heard Rowan call from the stove, and you clenched your jaw against your dumb smile. God, you hated that joke. Or, at least, you told yourself you did, when in actual fact it made you smile every damn time he said it.
“Ha-ha, yeah ‘see you next fall’ you’re so fucking funny Ro’.” Smoothing your brow with your hand, you went to sit at the breakfast far, the rest of your found family having forsaken a dining table upon moving in and instead opting for this slightly decrepit, unstable wooden bar with garish-coloured seats that were various heights. Even the lighting matched the anarchy of the decor, the scrappy bulb flickering every so often. None of the furniture matched in your apartment but to be honest, that was part of the reason you loved it so much. It was chaotic, but it was home.
Your heart spasmed in pain, to the point where your brow furrowed. What the fuck just happened? Rowan seemed to have noticed as well, sending your an inquisitive look, which you instantly brushed off. Nothing to worry about. At least, not yet.
Rowan shrugged, shimmying the pan of baken in his hand before removing three slices and placing them on a plate before you, alongside a freshly washed fork clearly leftover from last night’s takeout they all had that you weren’t invited to because you were at fucking work goddamnit.
“Thanks, Ro’, smells great.” You offered him a small smile, one he returned, before heading over to the far too-small fridge to dig out the rest of Joseph’s milkshake he’d said you could have. You didn’t mind making pasta for him yesterday. In fact, you kind of enjoyed it. Most of the time, when the rest of your family ate, you were at work so you never got the opportunity to cook for them. That was mostly down to Rowan unless he was working the late shift at his apprenticeship, in which case the two of you would leave together and the other’s had to fend for themselves.
It was often a bombsite when you’d return.
With the first mouthful of crispy, smokey bacon, you quickly decided getting out of bed was worth the aggravation, even more so when you dumped a whole load of maple syrup onto your plate. You don’t think you’d ever met a Canadian in your life, but if and when you did, you might just have to kiss them for even being associated with maple syrup.
Speaking of sweet treats…
“Anyone want one of my special hot chocs? I’m annoyed and up early so my treat for having to deal with me,” you grinned a little wickedly into your milkshake, the room whirling in complete surprise, to the point where you had to hold up your hands in defence. “What did I say?”
“Whaddya mean ‘special hot choc’?” Rowan asked accusingly. “I’ve never taught you how to make hot chocolate before!”
“Yeah, I’m with Ro on this one. Since when did you have a special hot chocolate recipe?” Erin almost pouted, as if you’d deliberately been keeping it from her.
You thought for a moment. They were right, you didn’t always have a hot chocolate recipe. You only learned that from…
Wait, who?
And when you went…
Wait, where?
Maybe you didn’t have a special recipe after all. Were you just remembering things wrong? YOu must be. Where and when would you have picked up a special recipe for Christ’s sake? You haven’t been anywhere with anyone to have done that.
Must have been the exhaustion talking. The lights flickered again.
“Must be going crazy…” you mumbled, accepting the fact that no, you didn’t have a special hot chocolate recipe.
You felt something wither away and die in your chest.
“You really gotta stop all those late nights.” Rowan placed a hand on your shoulder, concern etched in the pinch of his brow. It hadn’t been too long ago you and Rowan had fought, the argument you’d had still echoing in your brain. It was over your mutation, and his since it was so similar yet the complete opposite. He’d berated you for not having gained control of it yet after accidentally plunging a supermarket in a blanket of shadow upon finding out they were out of your favourite bread. It wasn’t your fault, really, but you’d made the whole situation worse when you lost complete control.
Three people were taken to hospital.
Two of them died.
You shook your head. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. You’d managed to repair the relationship between you and your brother, there was no point dwelling on the past.
The idle chatter of the kitchen continued as you fell silent, turning your attention instead to the strange series of dreams you’d been having. Most of you only remembered because Morgana would remind you multiple times a day by bringing it up all the time. But there was one thing you hadn’t told her that had occurred in almost every single dream you had.
One word.
Or an animal you guessed.
Or a bug.
Were bugs animals?
Did the animal kingdom include fish and birds as well as mammals?
Shit, you were getting off-topic. Your brows furrowed in concentration, trying to remember your train of thought. What the fuck were you just thinking about? Your jaw clenched with the effort of remembering. You swore you were deep within–
Firefly.
The chair clattered behind you as you shot from your seat, eyes round and wide in panic. What the fuck was going on? Where were you? You could barely register the faces of those around you, but you knew you hadn’t seen them all in a long long time. You weren’t supposed to be here. None of this was real. You were back, he’d found you again. Shit! Where was L–
“You okay…?”
The tension left your body as Morgana settled a hand on your shoulder, her auburn brows pinched in worry. Darkness swam at the edges of your vision, before you shook your head slightly, freeing yourself of your daze.
“Yeah… shit, yeah, sorry. Fuck, what is wrong with me today?” Your voice shook slightly as you gave your family a slightly nervous smile, bending to pick the chair back up. Fuck, you really needed to sleep more. Fucking job was going to kill you off. For sure.
A quick flick of your wrist and you saw you had around an hour and a half before you needed to leave. A heavy sigh blew from your lips as you downed the rest of Joseph’s milkshake he’d so kindly donated to you, before shooting an annoyed look to the bulb as it briefly turned the kitchen into a club dancefloor, before winking out completely.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me…” Rowan lamented, placing down whatever protein shake he’d opted for the morning and dragging over a barstool to stand on. “I told Naji we needed to get this shit fixed and he told me he’d text the landlord, but this is just–”
None of you were strangers to natural phenomena. You were fucking mutants, for Christ’s sake, your very existence was a natural phenomenon. However, watching a barstool blink out of existence entirely wasn’t exactly on your list of things you’d ever seen. Or even things you would like to see. Rowan was cut off midsentence as he crashed to the floor.
You all stood in utterly stunned silence.
“Y’all saw that too, right?” Erin asked, glancing warily around the room before taking a small step toward Atlas next to the window. Well, that was one suspicion you’d had confirmed then. Tension thickened the air, static apprehension making your saliva sweet and your breath hot. What the fuck was going on?
Rowan stood from the ground, dusting himself off, his gaze tracking warily around the perimeter of the room. Another mutant, perhaps? It wasn’t exactly common in the area, but it wasn’t unheard of. Some poor kid with shitty control over their new mutation discovers their first big act of power was accidentally erasing a barstool out of existence. “Chill out, it’s most likely a power cut or some new electromagnetic mutation. We’re fine.” Rowan attempted to soothe, though his voice was anything but convincing. Especially when a squeaked gasp emitted from next to the window, where Atlas had flipped up the blind to the outside world.
“Does the sun get power cuts too? Or did you just absorb a bunch of light this morning, Ro?” Morgana asked, though her eyes were trained on the pitch black outside the crummy window. You crossed the kitchen alongside Rowan, the five of your leaning out of the window to get a good look at whatever the fuck was going on.
Or rather… not going on.
“What the hell…?” Rowan muttered as you all watched the outside world flicker in and out of existence. One second it would be the neighbourhood you’d come to know so well, the next the sky turned grey and grainy, like an old TV trying to find signal. The flat next door would completely disappear, replaced by walls of steel. Your heart raced, stomach flipping.
“Joseph’s still at work…” You breathed, and Morgana turned to you as if she’d only just realised it too, fear flickering in her dark crimson eyes.
“I’ll text him, let me–” Atlas was cut off swiftly, the floor beneath your feet flickering, before that too completely disappeared, and you were all plummeting to the ground. Wind whipped at your hair as you desperately flung your arms out in search of a shadow.
“ERIN!” Morgana screamed as Erin’s hand extended before her, attempting to search for some kind of plant life. But your flat had become nothing, merely glitches of light around you. A strong arm circled your waist and turned to see Rowan’s golden eyes wide with fear.
“My shadow!” He called, flipping the two of you so you were beneath him. You didn’t think twice, trusting he had a plan before your molecules dissolved into the darkness across his front. You could still hear the rush of wind, Morgana’s cry of pain before the descent started to slow and you could sense various shadows around you growing. The moment your world seemed solid enough, you reformed, your eyes taking a moment to adjust before you registered Altas healing the nasty looking cut on Morgana’s hand, blue glowing particles rising from where his palm encased her hand.
She must have slowed your fall, the steel floor now a pool of blood where she’d borderline drained herself to save the rest of you. Wordlessly, you crossed to where she swayed slightly, placing her arm around your shoulder to act as a support.
“Thanks…” She murmured, closing her eyes to recover from that woozy feeling of using too much of her power. You went to brush off her gratitude, to tell her it was the least you could do after she’d just saved your lives, before part of the wall before you started to close in an inch. With a hiss and a screech, the steel split in two, casting a rectangle of blinding light and causing you all to throw up your hands.
“Guys?”
You all knew that voice, and there was a collective sigh of relief when Joseph stepped through the door. But the voice you knew to be full of jokes and laughter sounded exhausted, beaten. Defeated. Where the fuck had he been?
“Joes? What the fuck is going on?” Rowan called, dimming the light so you could all remove your hand-shaped shields from your eyes. “Where’ve you– Holy shit are you okay?” Rowan ran forward, catching Joes as his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.
A gasp flew from your lips. He was caked in blood. And not in the way Mogana would be if she somehow lost control. He’d been hurt. Badly. Almost surgically. Various parts of his skin had been removed to leave behind raw, pulsing muscle exposed to the outside. His face had been all but completely disfigured, where his eyes used to be dark and inviting, the whites were now bloodshot and his pupils dilated.
“Move,” Atlas instructed sternly, Rowan shifting slightly to the side before he lay his hands on Joes’ chest in the same way he did for Morgana, those same blue particles rising and winding around Joes like grapevines, dipping into his various wounds and closing them over.
“They’re here to help us,” Joes muttered, his head lolling to look back out the gap in the wall. What the fuck was he talking about? Help you do what? One moment you were all having brunch and you were sipping a milkshake, the next your fucking flat had disappeared and you’d all plummeted fifty feet straight down.
You cast Morgana a confused glance, now recovering quickly, and she sent you one right back. “Who’s here?” You asked, eyes lingering on the fear in Morgo’s before Joes pointed out beyond the darkness and into the light.
Three elongated shadows shrouded the light, but it was the one in the centre who drew your attention. Broad-shouldered, strong-armed, with two little flicks of hair licked up either side of his head. You knew that outline, like a memory forgotten, or a faded dream. With the light behind them, you couldn’t see their faces, but you could see they all wore the same suits. The girl on the right gasped, her hands covering her mouth as she almost fell to her knees.
Morgana tilted her head in confusion, and you shrugged, not taking your eyes from the three shrouded figures.
Though you felt a well of unspecific emotion rise in your chest as the man in the centre spoke, his tone soft, voice deep and gruff.
“Hey, firefly.”
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Logan didn’t know what he would say to you when he saw you again. When Jean had told him they’d found a lead, he expected it to be at least another month before anything would actually happen about it. He wasn’t expecting the entire team to have assembled already, suits and all, prepared to head out that night. His chest constricted with impatience when the team were stalking the halls. He knew they all had the element of surprise, but if he was being honest, stealth was never really his strong suit. He just wanted to find you. He just wanted to hold you and apologise as many times as he needed to in order to ease the heavy weight of guilt off his shoulders.
What would he say to you? How much he’d fucking missed you? How sorry he was he couldn’t protect you. How he’d promised he’d keep you safe and then lost you? But the moment those doors opened and he saw you, with Sanguine leaning heavily on your shoulders, all and any words quickly left his mind. You looked tired. That wasn’t to say you didn’t always look tired, but you looked fucking exhausted. Dangerously skinny, as well. The muscles on your arms had all but faded, your cheeks had hollowed, and your neck looked like it could be snapped with a light breeze. Fuck you looked so fragile.
“We’re gonna get you out, okay?” Logan took a step forward, only for you and the rest of the mutants to take a step back. A spear thudded into the centre of his soul as he watched you try to figure out what was going on. But it was the look in your eyes that shattered every fibre of his being.
Unfamiliarity.
You had no idea who he was.
“They don’t remember,” Joes said, rising from the floor once Atlas had taken a step back away from Logan, Scott and Kitty. She’d insisted she came with the rest of the team and said she’d just hide in the walls anyway, so they may as well take her along willingly. Scott begrudgingly agreed.
“We don’t remember what?” Logan’s eyes slid to the man with the golden hair and eyes, who looked remarkably similar to you. Rowan. His eyes narrowed. “Joes what the fuck is going on? What don’t we remember? Who are you fuckers?”
“Rowan!” The man next to him hissed. Judging from his appearance and general attitude, Logan guessed that must have been Atlas, or Harmony. He’d already run into Joseph, and rescued him when Ororo controlled enough lightning to short out their electrical units, plunging the facility into total darkness. All that was left of that practice room was blood and entrails.
Logan had made sure of it.
“None of this is real, Ro’. They’ve been forcing Naji to fuck with our minds, man. Every time one of us goes to ‘work’, they take us out into the real world and fuck with us. You saw the state I was in, man. C’mon!” Joseph pleaded, and Logan could see the cogs turning in your brain as if trying to process what he was saying.
“The fuck are you talking about?” The girl with the bright green hair piped up, boldly stepping towards Joseph and dragging him back towards the rest of the group protectively. “Who’s ‘they’? Whaddya mean fuck with us?”
“Naji wouldn’t do that, Joes.” Your just managed to keep the tremor from your voice, dropping Morgana’s arm from around your shoulders and taking a cautious step towards your brother. What the fuck was going on? You looked between the three newcomers, the girl on the right stepped forward, and your eyes narrowed on her. “Another step and you’re dead.” You hissed, extending your hand behind you to the shadows as if you could do anything but disappear into them. Morgana drew out her knife from her boot and sliced open her palm, blood swirling and morphing until three sharp spears floated above her head.
“Let’s all just take a breath…” Logan murmured in an attempt to soothe the rising tensions in the room. Why he’d thought this would go smoothly, he had no idea and found his present self kicking his past self for making such stupid fucking assumptions. He held out his palms in peace, trying in vain to come across as non-threatening as possible, his eyes trained on you. “It’s okay…” His brows pinched as you looked at him with disdain.
Who the fuck was this guy? Sure he looked and sounded exactly the same as your dream visitor, but you refused to believe they were one of the same. Just some freaky coincidence, and you didn’t even know if his mutation was the same. He hadn’t shown anything yet, and for all you knew, it could be something completely different.
But a hole of doubt had burned through your gut.
“Wait… isn’t that–”
“Shut the fuck up, Morgo.” You hissed before Morgana could even finish her inquiry. You knew exactly what she was about to ask, you’d felt her eyes flicker between you and the man ever since he’d called you firefly.
Total coincidence…
“She has a point though. Naji wouldn’t do that to us. Sure he’s antisocial and spends most of his time in his room, but we’re still his friends. His family. He wouldn’t do that… would he?” Uncertainty laced Erin’s tone as she eyed the three outsiders suspiciously, reaching into her back pocket. You glanced her way, holding your breath. You knew what he had stored away in her cargo pants, not just in her back pocket, but in all of them. Various seeds for every variety of plant you could think of, her favourite being the Venus fly trap because of course that was Erin’s favourite plant.
Logan’s chest spasmed at Erin’s words. He knew he was going to have to take them all to Charles and return their memories to them. Not knowing what would happen to the bonds you’d all made with each other terrified him. What if that just made everything ten times worse? What if you and the others remembered everything and decided to go along with Kreva’s plan? He’d already seen Rowan, Morgana and Joseph working for Kreva…
What would stop them this time?
“This is taking too damn long…” Scott muttered, throwing a glance behind his shoulder to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them. Logan couldn’t help but agree. It was taking far too long. He didn’t want to take any of you by force. That was a last resort, and only if you couldn’t be convinced. If it went against your current wishes, he honestly didn’t give a fuck. You weren’t safe here. You were back where you started, and he’d be fucking damned if he was leaving without you today. Taking the others was a luxury, taking you was the priority.
“Let me talk to them. Please. They don’t know what’s going on. Naji restores our memories before the testing begins, but they’re always erased and replaced when we come back. They don’t know anything, just give them time.” Logan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Joseph. He was the only one out of the group, perhaps other than Naji, who knew what was going on and was stuck between saving his friends and getting the fuck out of there.
“You have thirty seconds.”
“Scott!” It was the first time Kitty had spoken up since seeing you, and to be honest, Logan had almost completely forgotten she was there. She’d been non-verbal, dealing with whatever she was dealing with after seeing you in the state you were in for the first time in two months. Now, however, she seemed to have recovered.
Unlike Logan, who still found it difficult to look at you, yet equally difficult to look away.
“Thank you, man,” Joseph nodded his head in gratitude, before turning back to the rest of the group. “Look, I don’t know how to convince you, but they got a mutant back at this crazy mutant school that can help get your memories back. He’s like, the only one other than Naji who can do it.”
“If this is true,” you began, folding your arms across your chest in a way that had Logan holding his breath, the familiarity nauseating. “Then why don’t we just ask Naji to restore them? He’s our fucking friend, Joes. Why would he do this?” You implored him to see reason. To see that there was no reality where Naji would work against the group, antisocial or not.
“Because they’ve–”
“Now now, Subject Three. Don’t go spoiling all of our secrets now, will you?”
The hairs on the back of your neck prickled, though the voice meant nothing to you. You didn’t recognise it at all, but you noticed the way the three newcomers all bristled and the way Joes seemed to shrivel in fear. Following ‘Scott’’s gaze, you looked up to see Naji, bruised and beaten, his neck held in a vice grip by some formless, faceless figure with a large gun slung over his back. The mirrored window had been smashed open, blood leaking from Naji’s knuckles as his legs dangled over the side, held out over the shattered glass by the throat.
“Joes…” Rowan growled in instruction, the rest of you already being on the same page. Joes could teleport not only himself but various other people of different numbers depending on size and mass. But the man just stood there, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring in utter terror as Naji gurgled and fought against the hold around his neck.
“Kreva.” You heard the muscular man behind you snarl, and your mind did somersaults as three long, razor-sharp claws slid from his knuckles. There was no point in denying it anymore. It was most definitely the same mutant from your dreams.
“Ah, The Wolverine. How darling to see you again. Here for Subject Eight, I presume? There’s no point. It remembers nothing of your cosy little forest getaway.” Dr Kreva covered his mouth theatrically, gasping as if he’d made a terrible mistake. “Oh no, have I said too much? No matter. Once all you X-men are disposed of, this will be nothing but a bad dream to them. Isn’t that right, Eight?” It took a moment to realise the skinny, crooked-nosed man was addressing you, but how the fuck were you supposed to know that when he wasn’t even calling you by your name. And what the fuck did he mean by ‘cosy forest getaway’? You’d never even left the city.
“The fuck is going on…?” You asked aloud, taking a step back and towards Joes, who was still stuck in frozen, abject horror. “Joes… you gotta get him. He’s gonna fucking kill him!” You hit his arm with enough force to break the man from his terror-stricken paralysis, only for him to blink away from you, shaking his head wildly as if his mind was a wasp’s nest, his nails digging into either side of his temple.
“No no no nono nononononono–” Your mouth fell agape in fear as he fell to his knees, small rivulets of blood leaking down either side of his face as he clawed at the sides of his head.
“Joes?”
“Joes!”
“The hell?”
Adrenaline pumped through your blood as you slowly started to realise whatever the fuck was going on, it very much was not good. In fact, it was most likely that all of your lives were on the line. And you knew that right here, right now, you had to make a choice. You all did.
“You got a clear shot, Scott?” Kitty asked, stepping behind Logan slightly. Though he didn’t mind. As long as she was safe and out of the line of whatever fire could come their way, he was more comfortable. Now if only he could get you in a similar way.
“Lined up.”
“Don’t shoot!” Rowan waved his arms frantically as Scott’s fingers braced against his glasses, jumping between the mutant and his friend. “If you shoot Naji’s dead, for sure. Just– just hold on, okay? We can figure this out.” He pleaded, to the amusement of Dr. Kreva from above, his cackling laughter sure to haunt your nightmares for a good long while after.
“Oh, Five… always the peacekeeper. Always the pacifist. It’s a shame you’re such a killing machine, though nothing like your sibling. We should showcase that, Eight. Show them all what you’re capable of…” Kreva placed a thumb and forefinger beneath his chin mockingly, once again making a show of having you all at his mercy. “In fact… One, if you could. Not too much though, just enough to unleash the Phantom.” You felt your blood turn to ice in your veins. That was your mutant name… how the fuck did he–
Pain ripped through your mind as you fell to your knees, your hands biting painfully as you caught yourself before you broke your nose on the ground. Though where you should have felt cold steel, you instead heard the groaning of tight leather and a low grunt of impact.
It felt as if you were being unstitched, torn open with a rusty knife. Your head split apart and searched inside as Naji’s mutation invaded your conscience. You heard a scream coming from somewhere but were too focused on trying to stay sane as memory fragments of pure agony were thrust into the inner walls of your mind, scraping down your subconscious. White hot pain laced through your throat and you finally realised it was you screaming, your voice cracking and breaking as you fought Naji’s hold.
Rowan screamed your name as Logan lunged forward to catch your fall, dragging you into his lap and holding your arms by your sides. “We gotta go!” He roared to Scott, who nodded in agreement, barking out orders just as Kurt bamfed into existence. Morgana reached for you as Kurt placed his three-fingered hand on her shoulder, her desperate scream cut short as she was teleported from the room. Logan turned his attention back to you, back to the searing torment etched on your face as you writhed in his arms. “I know baby, I know, it hurts, just hold on.” He called your name soothingly, though his voice shook. Seeing you like this, in such pain, ripped at his self-control. And he loathed how you would have to do this all again when he got you back home.
What Logan didn’t know, was that you’d heard his voice, and held onto it. You wouldn’t let yourself be manipulated so easily. Fighting Naji hurt. It hurt like hell. He was fucking strong, winding a white-hot thread of memories throughout your head, but you thrashed and flailed from his twisting web, using your dream visitor’s voice as an anchor point.
“What’s happening to her?” Logan’s eyes left your face for two seconds to meet with a pair of golden ones he’d only ever seen fighting against him. Rage flared in his gut as he thought of the man who’d assisted in your capture, but this wasn’t the same guy. Sure, he had his body and his face and his powers, but this was a sibling. A brother. He was your brother, and Logan could see that in the way terror pinched his brows and widened his eyes.
“I don’t know, but we need to get her out. Now.” Logan responded, removing a hand from your arm to smooth back your hair as your neck all but snapped backwards, head almost rolling off his lap completely as your entire body contorted violently. It was getting worse.
Rowan nodded, a flicker of determination glittering in his golden eyes, before extending his hand out towards the light. “I can buy you time. Get her safe,” he instructed, and Logan found his rage toward him settling slightly. “I’m R–”
“Rowan. Yeah, I know. She spoke about you a shit ton.” He gave Rowan a half smile as his head tilted in confusion. Logan held out his hand. “Logan.”
Though the bafflement didn’t fade, Rowan shook his hand nonetheless, before getting to his feet, his hand still extended towards the light. “When I say run, run.”
“Thought you were a pacifist?” Logan asked, holding you tight against his chest as he lifted you from the ground, the shadows in the room now quivering in anticipation. Naji was winning. With a glance to both Scott and Kitty, he could see they’d been listening in and were ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
“Not when they threaten my fucking sister,” He spat, the skin along his forearms and neck beginning to glow a bright, blinding white. “Go.” Was all he said, before the room erupted in sunlight, and Logan took off at a sprint, keeping you close to his heart. He had you back physically, your strained breaths and grunted whimpers told him that much.
Now he just needed to get you back mentally. And for that, he needed Charles.
“S’okay, you’re okay, just a little longer baby, I know…” he soothed as he raced round the corner, struggling to hold you still as you fought his hold, the darkness of the corridor lashing out in great, spiked tendrils, slashing at his arms and legs and leaving searing lines of crimson through the leather of his suit. His stomach flipped as he looked down at you, your spine arching back, head snapping, eyes rolling up behind your skull leaving behind nothing but black, hollow darkness. He was losing you. Fuck, he was losing you.
“C’mon on sweetheart, c’mon.” He ground, feet pounding against the floor as one of his shoulders was ripped back, knives of pure shadow tearing through flesh. He grit his teeth against the pain, racing through a set of open doors and launching the two of you towards the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. Your mouth opened as you released a strangled scream, your limbs jerking and flailing in his grasp, Logan almost losing his grip on your writhing body. Tucking your head between his collar and jaw, he pressed on until he could finally see the service door they’d snuck in through. “S’okay, not much farther now. Keep fightin’ him, firefly. You gotta keep fightin’.”
Serrated knives tore through your memories, flashes of pure, unadulterated agony rushing your nerves, setting your veins alight with liquid fear. Thrashing your head back, you attempted to clear your mind’s eye of Naji’s hold, razorwire slicing at the base of your brain. You had very little knowledge of brain anatomy, only knowing the basics, but you knew for certain he was attempted to break through your hippocampus both physically and hypothetically. But you held onto him. Onto the man who, in turn, held you. A kernel of safety shining within the ocean of fiery anguish. You held onto his voice, their meaning.
Shadows swirled around your wrists, encasing your hands in two sets of obsidian claws, raking down both sides of Logan’s arms. You were losing the battle, he knew you were, if Joseph was right and you didn’t remember anything, there was no way you’d have this kind of control over your mutation. Using his already-healed shoulder, he burst through the locked service door and barrelled down the stone tunnel, out into the night-air. He didn’t know what Obscurity’s range was for his mutation, but he had to assume it was limitless. Anything less and he was likely to let his guard down.
Breath burned in his lungs as he sprinted for the jet, hearing the door behind him open and close another two times for both Scott and Kitty. He didn’t know how many of your friends Kurt had managed to rescue, but it didn’t matter to him. You were there, in his arms. And as long as that was his reality, he didn’t give a shit about anything else.
His feet thundered against the metal of the ramp, and ducking into the deck of the Blackbird, he was greeted by an extremely concerned-looking Jean the moment her eyes lay on you.
“Help me…” Logan begged, collapsing to his knees, and the redhead wasted no time in extending her hand towards your rapidly twitching head, veins of pitch black etching their way up your neck towards your temples. Instantly, Jean grimaced, her mouth gaping in some unseen pain as she entered your mind. All Logan could do was sit and watch helplessly as she engaged in some kind of mental battle with Naji. Her brows pinched with effort, the tendons along the backs of her hands flexing and tensing with strain. Logan desperately swiped your sweat-matted hair from your brow as if to clear a better path for Jean’s mutation.
“Jean!” Scott barked, fear echoing around the deck of the jet as he lunged forward towards his girlfriend, only to be held back by Ororo, who looked utterly exhausted. She’d been high above the facility, concentrating on keeping the power down with various surges of lightning. And now she looked completely spent.
Slowly, gradually, your twitching started to cease, each muscle in your body relaxing separately as Jean managed to exorcise your mind of Naji’s manipulation, until you sagged in Logan’s arms, your breathing steady, your eyes closed as if you were just sleeping. Scott broke free of Ororo’s hold, rushing for Jean before she collapsed onto the hard ground. “You okay?” He asked, bracing her face in between his palms. Jean offered him a tired nod, a small smile pulling at her lips.
“Got her back.” She murmured, and Logan clenched his jaw to stop tears welling in his eyes. He gently manoeuvred your body to lie comfortably in his lap, the back of your head nestled in the crook of his elbow, his arm encasing your waist. You were back.
You were back.
Kitty knelt beside you, a hand grasping your limp, skeletal one, tears silently sliding down her cheeks. Logan knew what she was thinking. What she was contemplating. What had they done to you? What fresh horrors would you be battling once they returned your memories? Logan’s thumb slowly caressed your protruding ribs. He’d be there with you. Whatever you had to endure next, whatever fresh hell awaited you when you woke, he’d be right there next to you.
“We gotta go…” Scott muttered urgently to Ororo, who looked out beyond the ramp to the Blackbird, awaiting Kurt’s next arrival.
“We can’t… they’re still in there!” Morgana raised her head from where she’d been sat on one of the seats. “Atlas, Joseph, Naji and Rowan are still–” she was cut off by another puff of blue smoke, Kurt falling to the ground and releasing Rowan’s arm from around his shoulder. Blood leaked from the blonde’s nose, his hands braced against the steel as he caught his breath.
“Is she okay?” Were his first words, barely looking around before his golden eyes rested on your unconscious form and Logan’s protective hold. He could almost smell your brother’s disdain, his nostrils flaring as he slowly pieced together the narrative in front of him. “Logan, right?”
Logan nodded once, returning Rowan’s cold look with one of his own, baring his teeth ever so slightly as he tried to gauge the threat of you being taken from him again. Rowan visually backed off, his expression to exhaustion. “I guess a lot can happen when you don’t see someone for eight years. As long as you take care of her, that’s cool with me.” Rowan shrugged, having recognised just exactly what he was looking at.
As the Blackbird rose from the ground, Morgana clicked the belt across her middle and shakily made her way over to sit next to Rowan, eyes flickering between you and him.
“So… those dreams she had… they were actually memories?” She asked him slowly, and it took a moment for Logan to process all the subtext of the question before he nodded again. Even with your memories replaced, you could never truly forget him. The realisation made his chest swell and his heart ache. He was acutely aware of Rowan listening into the conversation. “Holy shit…” She breathed, tapping your arm lightly. “I hope you’re listening, you lucky bitch. He’s fucking gorgeous.”
So this was the Morgana from the reports. This was the girl he’d read about, not the one who aided in your capture two months ago. What the fuck had Kreva done to you all? How could he get Naji to manipulate you all in such a way? To the point where you’d all help him. Although it was a nice breath of fresh air for even a thread of humour to be woven into the cockpit. “Right, Erin? You’re with me on this, yeah?”
Morgana turned to the green-haired girl who’d curled up against the wall, her hands hugging her knees against her chest. “Erin…?” Morgana asked tentatively, and only then did Erin look up.
“We fucking left them.” She spat, her eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. “Atlas… Joes, Naji…. We just fucking left them. You got your precious Phantom back and just abandoned the rest of them.” Her hands flexed around her knees, chest tight.
“I’m sorry…” Kurt piped up from where he’d been nursing a small graze on his arm. “I couldn’t… It was carnage in there. I rescued who I could but–”
“Yeah well, it wasn’t fucking good enough. Who said we even needed rescuing anyway? This could all be total bullshit.” She hissed through gritted teeth, and Rowan placed a hand protectively on your shoulder. Logan knew he shouldn’t have bristled the way he did, the man had proven himself loyal, but he couldn’t help the memories of that night flashing to the forefront of his mind.
“Erin, we’re not abandoning them. We’re gonna go get them back, right?” Rowan looked to the rest of Logan’s team, who in turn looked at each other in uncertainty. They had you back. That’s what they came for. But something niggled at Logan’s mind. You wouldn’t stop there. If the tables had been turned and you were saving him, you wouldn’t stop until everyone was safe. He himself included, but that was given.
“No. We’re not abandoning them,” He spoke for his team, five heads snapping towards him, each with their own look of shock. “Ya know she’s just gonna go after them herself, right? And she wouldn’t stop til they’re all safe. And I dunno ‘bout you, but I ain’t letting her do that alone.” He finished, and Kitty smiled at him with tearful determination.
“Agreed.” She said, turning to the rest of the team. Ororo nodded and Scott sighed heavily, only swayed when Jean placed a hand on his arm.
“Alright then… guess that’s our next mission.” Scott sighed, irate.
“Thank you. They’re our friends so we really– Joes?” Morgana’s head tilted to the side as suddenly, seemingly out of thin air, Joseph blinked to existence, Rowan’s wrist held firmly in his grasp. Logan’s heart stopped. This wasn’t the same mutant they’d saved from testing during the mission. His eyes were glazed over, subdued hatred burning in his pupils as Rowan turned to his friend.
“Just Five.” He rasped, white foam leaking from his cracked lips.
“Joes? What’s–”
“ROWAN!” Logan roared, lunging across your form to take hold of your brother, only his fingers grazed nothing but thin air. Whatever Naji had done to Joes, it was the same thing he’d done to Morgana that night. And Rowan all too often.
But he was gone. Your brother was gone. And now there was no debate about what you’d do when you woke.
He just hoped, that whatever Charles restored, would be enough to get your brother back too. For your sake.
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