#i guess this is where i become active again.. or something..
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Since I didn't draw anything for like half of 2024 I did an updated colour wheel instead! featuring only the newest of stuff I could find that fit.
I have also compiled a dump of many thoughts I want out of my head, like a little text post dump I guess. the tldr I guess I will just make "thank you".
Putting the most important thing first here which is. Every single time I catch myself thinking "no I need to draw smth other than alttp" a couple of very specific tags and messages pop into my head and I get so fired up to draw more alttp !!! the power I feel from that!!!!!
IIIIII feel like there used to be a way to do linebreaks but I can't remember how so my new text bit divider is random crap I can find lying around in my files
Ok here goes me being dramatic about something that only matters to me but feels so very important to get out for the sake of others too. I guess the gist of it is that tumblr is a rly important place to me and I'm so endlessly grateful for people always being so nice. at the end of the day I don't think I really care about much else in life than drawing and getting to share it with others makes it a much less lonely experience for me. I mostly just for myself, but I'm so grateful for the extra joy associated with posting it online too.
I feel a bit bad I can never seem to give back the kind of nice energy you guys give me. despite how much joy this place brings me, I'm just a naturally anxious person and I often chicken out of doing things myself. I'm so endlessly happy that people still bear with me or at least stick around to look at my art.
thanks to people's kindness I often find myself breaking out of the anxiety and getting a lot closer to initiating stuff myself, but I always get run over by some kind of irl issue instead, usually mental, but recently also physical health. I had so much fun on here this summer especially and I was so certain that this was the time I would make it last only for irl stuff to yet again show up and knock me out completely. every time that happens I feel like I have to rebuild whatever social bravery I had aquired from the beginning again and at this rate I won't ever get anywhere.
after weeks of very few work days, I feel like I'm finally rebuilding the courage to post and the concentration to manage drawing at all. it's not a lot of progress but I can feel it growing. from tomorrow it's back to full time work with no other breaks in sight and I'm scared my groove will be cut short already... I like my job but I've acknowledged I just can't thrive with full time work. I can bear it fine though, but it doesn't leave energy for much else in life.
I think the point here is. I know it's just social media but I've had so many good experiences on here and they're really precious to me. I hope one day I can be well enough to be that kind of influence for others too. my activity with art and presence online has become surprisingly reflective of how well or bad I'm doing irl, so I never I never want to give up on become a more present person.
the most important thing is art though, so finding the courage to get back to posting even if it's all I do, makes me happy too. thank you so much to everyone else who posts are too. I'm endlessly excited about all the cool things I get to experience and see online, thank you!
it is absolutely absurd how many drafts I have of just very frustrated moments where literally all I type is "if I have to be sick one more time I will lose my absolute mind holy shit" and having just been sick again? really feeling that !!!! it's also like. frustrating to feel you're making progress mentally and then you constantly get knocked into bed by phsyical health instead like come on I'm finally learning how to get Out of that place... and then every time you get sick, routunes have to be rebuild all over after, it suuuuucks....
I finally got a PC which has been absolutely life saving, However. I am still drawing on tegaki only... I'm so excited I can get back to bigger works on csp but I've gotten so used to seeing only my tegaki stuff, I'm scared of how much I'll suddenly hate my art when I see it differently again... hating your own art is probably a feeling that will never disappear but even so. I think I'm at a pretty content place right now and I'm worried about shaking it up. I can't let something like that knock me down when I'm only finally getting back to drawing regularly again... I already copied over the palette for some comfort so hopefully I can find a brush that feels similar too! at least I'm super excited about getting to pick some more colours !
and a very belated tag game thing !! I completely lost the original post by now but it was from @lele5429 and I've had it in my drafts this whole time, so better late than never to fill it out!
Last song: Alt Hvad Jeg Vil by Von Quar
Fav colours: warm yellows or light oranges!
Last book: switching between Assassin's Quest and Our Wives Under The Sea!
Last movie: The Princess Bride I think?? it was long ago so I feel like I'm forgetting something else though...
Last tv show: my roomie and I binged Twin Peaks season 3 as well as most of True Detective over christmas break we went Ham
Sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet !!
Relationship status: not interested
Last thing I googled: "nosferatu rats"... I see.....
Current obsession: alttp auish shenanigans... this one has not changed since I first drafted my response to this... on one hand I feel like I'm just filling out the gaps between games, but on the other it's getting very close to full au stuff... I always wanted to draw comics but had no ideas and for the first time in my life I'm drowning in ideas and fully held back by fear and skills haha
Looking forward to: actually surprisingly nothing at all? I'm looking forward to whatever good times I can create for myself I guess. the last few things I was looking forward to didn't go so well, so maybe it's nice to have nothing but the most normal and boring daily life ahead haha
#text#THAT'S A LOT OF TEXT there's honestly no reason to bother with all my yapping but I feel happy I could finally put some stuff into words#and hide it among other things too haha#might also. dump some art to hide this instantly after posting.......
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karaoke
— ★ —
She's not entirely sure who she's supposed to be looking at.
They didn't usually stop by places like this after work – but Caspian and his dumb friend Finn insisted that they had a little get together, since Rye didn't know Finn that well, and they didn't know Rye.
The karaoke bar tended to have good people inside, and of course, karaoke. Sure, you could always just sing at home, but the thrill of an audience was what made the experience even better for some.
Rye wasn't amused by the idea – getting flat out drunk and yelling into a microphone? That's not his type of night out, and was more of the scene her roommate preffered.
Why would this even be a good idea?
"This is stupid," Rye muttered under xeir breath, slumping down in the chair they were in. "-can't believe I let them talk me into this."
Caspians voice was so, so, irritating – couldn't he sing a song that was in his rage, for the love fuck?
"Dude, sing a song that doesn't make you sound like a moron." Finn would stiffle back a chuckle, having to cover their mouth with a hand.
Rye nodded in mild agreement.
"Piss off, the pair of ya." Caspian scoffed, the song finishing up – meaning it was now somebody else's turn to go up and sing a song to their hearts content.
The longer it went on, the more Rye wanted to leave. Caspian and Finn were shit at this – and to be honest, so was Rye.
He wasn't keen on singing, but it couldn't hurt to give it a go, right? They'd lift themselves up from where they sat, taking the microphone off Caspian – who had been singing for way too long, despite Finn being before him – Rye would stare at the screen, squinting at the words.
'Lay All Your Love On Me' would show up on the screen, the intro beginning to blast through the speakers.
Okay, an ABBA song. Rye was familiar with their songs, so there wouldn't be much of a problem getting this one done – well, if those two behind xem didn't cause any trouble in the process.
Listening to his roommate sing made his ears happy – he'd glance over towards Finn, who had also looked over at him.
"Dibs." Finn would hiss, narrowing their eyes.
"Oh, shut up. I called dibs ages ago – they've taken my shirt off with xeir teeth." He'd respond, elbowing them lightly.
"Doesn't mean shit." They turned their gaze back to the other in front of them, foot kicking Caspian near the ankles.
The song was finished.. halfway through, to be specific. Xey'd given up at that point and just wanted to go home. These two were insufferable enough.
"I'm done. Let's go." Rye would mutter, arms crossed.
"Oi, wait! We can't leave without doing a group song, can we?" Finn would bring the idea to light, and Caspian would agree, standing up.
"Finnster is right. We gotta end it with a big kaboom, like.. a grand finale, or some shit like that." He'd shrug his shoulders, glancing at the screen for a brief second.
"I know exactly what song."
I guess they'd be here a little longer than expected.
— ★ —
#zeeverse#💉⏱️ // casrye + magnifying glass [Finn]#i guess this is where i become active again.. or something..#not beta read what a surprise
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I am so high I love you dabs I love you big bong rips I love you huge heavy bong I love you only having 20 dollars to my name and no plans but getting high and ignoring it I love you oh no I’m thinking about it
#I want to take an ice cold shower and scream and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes and lock myself in a closet for 72 hours in the dark with#no distractions to figure out what I actually want to do with the rest of my life and to face every bad thought I have and struggle to#ignore even years later like ugh I just need to be at the bottom of the ocean floating sinking alive dead in between for like a month and#then pull me back up and either I’ll be normal or I’ll be so fucked up they just put me back in there#like either way I am vibing at the bottom of the ocean (I have been desperately imaging a sensory deprivation tank all day)#(put me in a fucking sensory deprivation tank until something in my fucking brain rewires and I get worse or better than I am now this#inbetween stage is fucking killing me like what do you mean I��m not a horrible person but also what do you mean I struggle every day but I’m#normal but I have things about me other people don’t and alienate me to the point of near total isolation but also this is just how humans#are and I need to take meds and actively struggle to fit into a perfect little box of what a person should be like god damn I am so tired of#getting better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and I’m miserable and I’m happy and I’m sobbing and#I know a month from now I’ll be depressed again or I’ll be the best I’ve ever been and it’s so fucking horrible to be in the middle stage#where I actually have to step up and admit shit is wrong and face it like why can’t I just lay in bed forever until I become the bed and not#like get a job and have a future. ugh. depression is so fucked esp bc most things in my life are normal I guess or like easier than my#friends like we all have seperate challenges but I’m the only one still living off their parents (ha. parent. forgot for a second.) and the#only thing wrong with my life is the mental health issues but I won’t step up and deal with it bc I feel like I’ve been depressed for so#long I like fucked up the foundational shit and like I know it’s fine but also I feel so behind and I feel like I’ll be behind and unhappy#forever even when im happy I know the next depressive episode is right around the corner and I give up again. ugh. I hate knowing that’s#what’s wrong with me but still not having the energy to step up and fix it. im so pathetic I want to cry. my brain is me but my brain is#destroying my life. anyways. im high and now im sad and have dry mouth. I think im gonna drink ice water and change into shorts+lay in bed)
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✶ DAYDREAMiN : WHEN YOU GET CAUGHT KISSING THEM ╰——𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌
𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 17OOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, slightly suggestive 。。 ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞
DANi : hai... i guess i've decided to become active again ㅠㅠ,,
𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 it happens so fast—you’re still giggling against heeseung’s lips when the sound of a loud ahem cuts through the moment. heeseung pulls back just enough to glance over his shoulder, his grin unfazed as he spots the person awkwardly standing a few feet away. "oh, don’t mind us," he says smoothly, tilting his head back toward you, his thumb brushing your jawline like he’s itching to dive right back in. you bury your face in his chest, clearly embarrassed. "what? can’t help it. my baby’s irresistible," he adds. the intruder mumbles something about “needing to find another room” and hurriedly walks away, leaving heeseung smirking down at you. "see? now they know you’re mine," he murmurs, leaning in again, totally unbothered, "where were we, pretty?"
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 you barely have time to process the sound of someone clearing their throat before jay is already moving, his hand gently cradling the back of your head as he turns to shield you from whoever just walked in. “oh—sorry,” the person stammers, clearly flustered, and jay just gives them a polite smile. “it’s okay,” he replies smoothly. once they leave, he turns back to you, brushing a strand of hair from your face with such care it makes your heart ache. “you okay, princess?” he asks softly, his thumb grazing your cheek. you nod, still a little embarrassed, but he only grins, his eyes sparkling. “don’t worry, they’re probably just jealous,” he teases, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. “besides, who could blame me? my girl’s too pretty not to kiss.”
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 you barely have time to pull away before the teasing starts. "oooooh, caught in the act, huh?" your friend sings, eyes wide with mischief as you and jake stumble apart. jake’s hand stays on your waist, fingers tapping like he’s keeping count of every second he’s not kissing you. "yeah, yeah, get your little jokes out," he grumbles, but his eyes stay locked on you, lips already curving into a pout so dramatic it’s borderline childish. "you’re being mean, baby," he whines, tugging you closer again, thumb brushing your cheek with the softest touch. "they're just jealous," he murmurs, voice low, "but i’m not waiting another second, c’mere." before you can argue, he’s leaning in, eyes fluttering shut like he’s savoring every millisecond of it, his grin pressing into yours
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 the door swings open and sunghoon reacts like he’s been caught committing a crime. one second, his hands are cradling your face, lips against yours — and the next, you’re practically shoved a foot away, nearly stumbling. "oh? what’s going on here?" your friend’s voice drips with suspicion, eyes darting between the two of you. sunghoon's already faking it, clearing his throat like he’s been mid-conversation. "yeah, so, uh, like i was saying—" he stammers, avoiding eye contact as his ears burn bright red. you raise a brow, biting back a grin. "oh? what were you saying, hoon?" you tease, leaning forward just to watch him squirm. "nothing important," he mutters, glancing at you, his lips are still a little swollen.
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 the kiss is everything sweet until the door creaks open. before you can even blink, sunoo’s already gone, not actually gone, but somehow he’s leaning against the wall like he’s been there the whole time, arms crossed, one leg casually propped up. "yeah, so i told them it wasn’t even that serious," he says smoothly, voice crystal clear like he’s in the middle of a story. you’re still wide-eyed, and it takes you a second to realize he’s acting. acting. your friend eyes you both suspiciously, but sunoo doesn’t flinch, tilting his head with a little grin. "right, baby? tell them how ridiculous it was." you blink, catching on too late. "uh, yeah… super ridiculous," you mumble, fighting a smile. later, when you’re alone, you swat his arm. "you’re too good at that." he just beams, tapping your nose. "talent, babe."
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 the door creaks open, and you freeze, but jungwon? he doesn’t even flinch. instead, he tilts his head, deepening the kiss like he’s completely unaware — or maybe he just doesn’t care. his hands stay firm on your waist, pulling you closer. "seriously? get a room," the intruder groans, but jungwon only smiles against your lips. you hear the door close again, followed by retreating footsteps, but jungwon doesn’t move, doesn’t even open his eyes yet. when he finally does, he’s grinning at you. "think they got the message?" he asks, brushing his thumb along your jaw before leaning in again. "now, should we continue?"
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 you’re pressed against a quiet corner, riki’s arm lazily slung around your waist. “you’re so clingy today,” he teases. “and you love it,” you murmurs, pulling him closer. the moment is perfect—until someone clears their throat nearby. your eyes widen in panic, but riki? unbothered. he casually pulls away, turning his head to see who it is, his hand still resting on your hip. “oh, hey,” he says casually, lifting his free hand in a wave like you weren’t just caught mid-kiss. the intruder stammers an apology, scurrying off, and riki turns back to you with a smirk. “so should we continue?” he hums, leaning in again, as if nothing ever happened. “seriously?” you whisper, trying to stifle a laugh, but he just shrugs. “what? they’ll live.”
#ʚ( ៸៸ ´ `) 𝑜𝑓 : 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ︐#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enha x reader#enha sunoo#enha imagines#enha fluff#jungwon enhypen#enhypen icons#enhypen soft hours#sunghoon soft hours#jungwon soft thoughts#heeseung scenarios#heeseung imagines#heeseung fluff#lee heeseung#sunghoon fluff#jay park fluff#park sunghoon angst#park jongseong angst#sunghoon angst#sunoo soft hours#sunoo soft moodboard#enhypen soft hour#heeseung au#sunghoon imagines#jay park imagines#park sunghoon imagines
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3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up
One
Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help.
Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long.
Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned.
Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity.
The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room.
Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up.
“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”
“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender.
“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”
“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark.
Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?”
Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”
“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”
Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times.
“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?”
“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.”
“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”
Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life.
“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes.
Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.
They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.
Two
Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.
But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that.
So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it.
When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone.
Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders.
“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost.
Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead.
“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?”
Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?
Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.”
Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”
Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.”
Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.
But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?
But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him.
“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?”
“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!”
“You what.”
The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg.
Three
Tim may be in a…Predicament.
It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead.
So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl.
Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker.
“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?”
Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”
“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes.
His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing.
Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.
Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”
Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body.
“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches.
“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly.
“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker.
They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?”
Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”
“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that.
Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably.
Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”
“Not the same one.”
They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car.
Plus one
A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything.
Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out.
No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile.
Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions.
“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.”
“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.”
“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible.
“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies.
He gets a resounding no in response.
Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else.
Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it.
“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula.
“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?”
Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?”
“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!”
“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”
“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame.
“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?”
Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”
“Only because I’m here now.”
“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest.
It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”
Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds.
And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head.
“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”
“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring.
“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”
“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”
“Well, yes, but–”
“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.”
Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest.
Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused.
The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.”
Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”
Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#this post was brought to you by me recently finishing starman 1994#which i totally recommend it was rlly good and im happy i was able to read the physical version because there are some double page spreads#that were beautiful and i just know the online ver would've butchered#this is also part of my put danny in opal agenda!!#come on guys!! partially if not all powered by cosmic energy#missing heroes other than like benetti and the shade as far as i know#and used to have a ghostly curse on it!!! perfect place#also it's no-pulse coded because im still rotating them in my head like a microwave#the gl is supposed to b Kyle but sry if he's off i only know him from his appearances in yj and hitman#and i tried to do a read more thingy because it got long i hope it works
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her lips on your neck — j. maybank
meant to have this up last night, but i got fucked up lolz
❝ since you admitted it, i keep picturing her lips on your neck, i can't unsee it ❞
pairing: cheater!jj x fem!reader
context: late at night, you get back to the obx from a week-long trip to new york with your parents and decide to surprise your boyfriend and best friends.
words: 1.4k+
warnings: cheating (i don't condone it!!), might break you, no happy ending, ANGST ANGST ANGST
"what the fuck are we suppose to tell y/n?" you hear pope mention your name, as he sat with john b in the enclosed back porch of the chateau and immediately stop yourself from joining them, curious as to what else they had to say.
"dude, i don't know," john b shrugged at him, the expression on his face looking as if he was torn between some hard decision.
what could they possibly be talking about?
"i mean, it's not like they meant for it to happen, right?" john b continued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.
"do you really think she'll see it that way?" pope asks him. "jj just slept with kie."
john b winces at pope's words like they were too hard for him to hear and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your eyes becoming blurry with tears as anger starts coursing through your veins.
"we gotta tell her," pope adds.
they didn't even hear that you'd entered the porch, now only standing a few feet away from them.
"you just did." the sound of your voice causes them to snap their heads towards you, both of them now completely at a loss for words. "is jj here?" you speak slowly to stop your voice from shaking.
when neither of them reply and just exchange glances, you repeat yourself. "where's. jj."
"y/n…" john b starts to stand from his seat, but you don't let him finish or get any closer, before you're barging into the chateau.
you feel your body shake as jj comes out of one of the rooms chuckling and pulling his muscle tank down.
"you didn't," you shake your head as he looks at you.
"y/n…"
when kiara comes out of the same room and steps up behind him, you get your answer.
"you did," you say, your eyes shifting from kie to jj.
"babe, i-" jj begins, taking a step towards you.
"no," you immediately cut him off and hold a hand out in front of you to stop him from getting any closer. “we’re done.”
that was two weeks ago. you hadn’t seen jj, or your friends since then, actively trying to avoid them as much as possible. that didn’t stop them from texting though.
john b and pope have checked in every now and then to make sure you’re doing okay, while kie and jj blow your phone up 24/7 with empty apologies.
j<3: i’m outside. please let me explain.
you stare at the text on your phone for a second and hop to your feet to peek out the window, where surely enough, you saw jj perched against his bike on the curb of your front lawn, waiting.
letting out a deep sigh and against your better judgment, you walk towards the front door and open it, only to find that he had walked up your front porch and was about to knock.
“hey…” his voice is small, and his baby blue eyes light up at the sight of you, making your heart ache.
by the prominent eye bags under them, you could tell he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. but wasn’t that how it should have been? he was the one who cheated on you.
you don’t say a word and just turn to walk further into your living room, jj following after you and shutting the door.
“i know you don’t owe me anything,” he continues, as you turn to look at him again, your arms crossed across your chest.
“you’re right, i don’t,” you say, trying to be cold.
it was hard, though. there was a piece of your heart that still yearned for him. a piece that you had a feeling would love him forever. no matter how badly he’s just screwed you over.
“why’d you do it?” you ask.
“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “i don’t know why i did it. we were drinking… and talking… you weren’t here, and i- i guess we just…”
“what?” you feel your hand start to shake as he tried to come up with an excuse. “got caught up in the moment?”
“y- yeah…” he glances down, and you scoff.
“god, i am such an idiot!” you run your hands through your hair and take a seat on the armchair behind you.
“y/n that’s not…” he slowly approaches you while you shake your head at him.
“i should’ve known,” you say. “it was her before me.”
jj shakes his head as he closes the distance between the two of you and crouches down in front of you, a hand landing on your knee. “baby, that’s not true.”
you glance at his hand on your knee before looking at him again. “but it is.”
“look, i fucked up, okay?” he said, his tone desperate now. “i know that. but please… please believe me when i tell you that it was a mistake. and it’s never going to happen again.”
“how can i believe that?” you ask, tears threatening to brim along your lower lashes.
“just trust me,” he tells you.
a bitter scoff falls from your lips as you stand up and cross the room, half angry and half confused, not knowing what to think or believe.
“i did trust you, j!” you say, turning to look at him again with tears in your eyes as he gets up from his crouching position and faces you. “and you screwed me over anyway.”
“y/n…” he walks towards you, and you feel your weight shift to one foot, your body feeling a little limp.
there was a part of you that still loved him—feelings don’t disappear just like that—but you knew you deserved better. that there was someone out there who wouldn’t even think about doing what he did.
"i love you…" he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and push your hair back, your first instinct causing you to lean into his touch, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you lock your eyes with his. "pretty girl." he closes the distance between you two, his forehead resting against yours, a tear trailing down your cheek as you closed your eyes. "i am so so so sorry. i promise— i promise, i won't ever hurt you again."
you wanted nothing more than to believe him. to forgive him. to forget. but you knew, deep down, that wasn't possible.
you shake you hear against his, sniffling. "j, i can't…"
"no, no, no," he replied. "you can. you— you have to, i can't-" he tilts his chin upwards to kiss you, and though you want desperately to let him, you push him away.
"no, jj!" you shout. "you— you can't just kiss me and think it's all gonna go away!"
"okay, okay, i'm not," he backs off a little, and then takes your hands in his, baby blues pleading. "but you need to forgive me. i could never live with myself if you didn't. i— i can't go on without you… without…" he brings your hands together and clasps his hands around them as he brings them up to his lips to kiss them softly. "your touch…" he moves a hand towards your cheek again, caressing it just like last time. "your smile…" he trails it across your collar bone and down your arm to place it on your chest. "your love… god, y/n i’ve never been loved by anyone like you."
his face falls limp against you and he drops to his knees, arms immediately locking around your hips as he rests the side of his head against you.
"please… please forgive me," his voice sounds desperate now, breaking your heart even more.
"i— i can't…" you wrap your hands around his arms and try to pull him off you, but it doesn't work—he just clutches onto you tighter. "you're just not the same person to me anymore…" you shake your head. "the jj i fell for would've never ever done anything to hurt me, but now…" you bring your hands up to your head, trying to keep it together. "god! every time i look at you… all i see is her and what you did… i— i just keep picturing you guys together and-"
"and we can fix that," jj pulls away and gets back on his feet to look at you. "i mean, it's gon' take time, but eventually… you— you can forget it, right?"
there was a hopeful look in his eyes, but you knew that wasn't enough to fix things.
you shake your head and sigh, the hope in his eyes immediately diminishing. "no, i don't think i can."
"but that— that would mean that this…" his voice cracks, his mind clearly in disarray as he motions a hand between you two. "no. this can't be over."
your watery eyes lock with his, which were now red from holding back tears. "then why is it?"
if you happen to also be a rafe girl, consider this part 2 & part 3.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
#jj maybank#jj#jj obx#jj outer banks#sad jj#jj maybank sad#jj angst#jj one shot#jj maybank angst#jj x reader#jj x y/n#jj fic#jj maybank fic#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x y/n#obx#outer banks
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Secrets
pairing: Lestappen x reader
summary: Charles convinces you to join his relationship with Max.
warnings: Well, not much, except for mentions of sexual activities, unprotected sex (wrap it, guys) and pregnancy.
note: Just little snippets stitched together to give you a glimpse into their life.
The plan began to form in Charles’s head when it was announced you would become his race engineer from the 2024 season. As you got closer and got to know each other better, he began to flirt with you, making it quite clear that he wanted something from you, and when he kissed you for the first time, feeling it in his bones that he got you, he finally told you the truth.
“There’s something you should know,” he told you softly with his hand resting on your cheek. “I’ve been in a relationship for a good… three years now, but me and my partner are looking for someone to play with, someone who would be willing to be a part of our little secret.”
“Why do you keep it a secret?” you asked him, flashing a curious look at him.
Charles let out a long sigh as he thought about what to say to that. “We are trying to avoid a scandal.”
“So it’s someone people know. Hmm… If I was held at gunpoint and they told me to name one person you might be in a controversial relationship with, my first guess would be Max, but–” When you came to a sudden halt, he knew his expression gave away his surprise that you figured it out on your own. Well, he wasn’t that good at keeping a poker face after all. “No way,” you said slowly, your voice suddenly dropping.
He smiled at you after shaking off the bad feeling he had. You wouldn’t rat them out, he could tell, but now he was worried you would say no and it would change the way you work together. “Now you know, but please, this has to stay between us.”
You nodded your head a few times. “Sure, I won’t tell a soul.” There was a short pause, but then you looked back at him and said, “So how long have you been looking for a third member for this relationship?”
“We weren’t actively searching. When I met you, I found you attractive, then I got to know you better and realized I like your personality too. Max heard a lot of stories about you, and he was also attracted, so we just came to the rational conclusion that we would love to have you,” he explained.
You agreed pretty easily. Sure, you did point out that it was only a pilot period, you wanted to see if this could even work, but that was more than enough for Charles. And soon enough you fell in love with them the same way they fell in love with you, and being together in this relationship became the new normal for you.
During race weekends the two of you could spend a lot more time together, easily slipping into his driver’s room to have some fun, but times like this you usually put extra effort into showing Max how much you loved him when you got him in your company again.
Charles was in an extremely good mood in the evening, and when Max finally arrived, he was immediately pulled into a hungry kiss, his back pressed against the now closed door. “Good drive today, pretty boy,” the Dutchman praised him as he placed kisses along his jawline. “Wish we could talk a little more.”
“We can talk now,” he said before letting out a short laugh and slipping out of his grasp to move towards the kitchen.
Max shook his head with a smile as he glanced into the living room. “Where’s our princess?” he asked with a confused look as he followed the other man.
“Left to take care of something. Actually, it’s good that she’s not here, because I need to talk to you,” Charles said as he passed his boyfriend a glass of soda, who seemed much more interested in what he was about to hear. Rolling his eyes, Charles reached out to take his hand. “Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m not planning to break up with you. I was thinking about why she wanted to go on a date. Do you think she wants to leave us?”
“No, I don’t think so. But… I don’t know, I once overheard a conversation she had with a friend or relative, and she was trying to explain to them why she hasn’t been in a relationship for a while,” he admitted.
As he sat on a barstool, Charles let out a thoughtful hum. “It’s a good thing you mentioned this, because my idea could actually help this issue,” he began, earning a questioning look. “Maybe it’s time to make things official for our sake.” Max shook his head, but before he could say anything, he went on. “Not us, dummy. I know we agreed to keep it a secret for a few more years. I’m talking about you and her. Just hear me out. I can be seen in her company because she’s my race engineer and we’re friends as far as people know. But you? You’re on a different team, people think we don’t like each other. So if she was dating you, you wouldn’t have to feel left out even on race weekends, and I could jump over to meet her, even if she’s with you.”
With a thoughtful hum, Max rested his forearms on the kitchen island. “That’s… actually… not a bad idea,” he said slowly. “Have you told her about this?”
“No, not yet. I was waiting for you,” came the response.
Nodding, he moved to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around his body. “Are you sure about this?” Charles let out a confirming hum in response. “Well, if she’s on board, I say let’s do this,” he replied before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
Max woke up to the sound of you vomiting in the bathroom. He quickly jumped out of bed to see what was up with you, and when he opened the door, he saw you sitting on the floor with tears in your eyes. With a worried look, he kneeled next to you and kissed the top of your head. “Stomach flu?” he asked you softly. But you shook your head at this, carefully avoiding his gaze. “Tell me, what’s wrong? You’re hiding something.”
“What’s going on?” came Charles’s groggy voice from the door. When Max looked over at him, he saw the way he was rubbing his eyes, but then he focused on the two of you on the floor and quickly woke up. “You okay?”
You groaned, then flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash your face. “I’m fine,” you replied defensively.
“What are you hiding from us?” Max pressed on, knowing you well enough to sense there was more to the story.
A minute or two passed in tense silence while they waited for you to finally speak up. Charles moved to be by your side as support, but he was stopped right away. He meant well, but this wasn’t the time to play nice. Max wanted answers, and if he had to be harsh to get them, he was willing to do it. And his strategy worked, because you finally took a deep breath and turned around to rest your hips against the sink.
Your eyes moved back and forth between the two of them as you said, “I’m pregnant.”
Charles gasped next to him, barely able to hide his bright smile, but Max was hesitant. You had been with them for almost a year, and you had been publicly dating him for a while too, but this? This he wasn’t expecting. It’s not that he wasn’t happy, because he was. But you looked scared and maybe even ashamed, and this was killing him. So he quickly rushed over to you to cup your face with a smile on his face.
“Are you sure?” When you nodded, he kissed your forehead. “I love you, sweet girl.”
“You’re gonna be a great mom,” Charles added as he joined you and put his arms on your shoulders. “So… I’m gonna ask. Who’s the father?” he wondered out loud with raised eyebrows.
Shrugging, you looked down at your hands. “I don’t know. I’m on the pill, but both of you doofuses tend to forget to use a goddamn condom, so it could be either of you,” you mumbled.
Max looked over at his boyfriend as he bit on his lower lip, feeling guilty since they had agreed at the beginning not to do this. But based on the look on Charles’s face, he wasn’t the only one thinking about this. Of course, this was nothing new for the two of them, they had discussed their preference to fuck you raw countless times, but they never explicitly told you about this. But you weren’t stupid, you just probably loved them enough to let them do what they wanted as long as you all tested yourselves on a regular basis.
“Are you mad at us?” Charles asked cautiously, but you just shook your head. “Then what’s wrong? I can see there’s something else you’re not telling us.”
“That’s not how you wanted to become parents,” you eventually told them.
The sentence made Max’s heart clench, and he could tell Charles felt just the same based on the look they exchanged. They had told you about their plan to one day either use a surrogate mother or adopt a child depending on how things stood in their lives. Adoption seemed to be the winning option at the time as they couldn’t decide whose biological child should it be if they chose the surrogacy option.
But things had changed since then, a lot of things happened and their feelings also changed. Once the Monegasque nodded, Max took a deep breath and prepared to tell you what they were both thinking about at the moment.
“We love you. Yes, we did have different options in our heads at the time we talked about this, but now you fully belong to us. Our gorgeous and smart girlfriend is pregnant from one of us,” he said with a smile as he tipped your head to make you look at him. “It’s so much better than anything we could dream of. You should be happy now. We’re here, we love you, we’re going to support you the whole time.”
On his side, Charles let out a quiet chuckle, then kissed your temple. “You’re not getting rid of us, baby, don’t even think about it.”
note2: I just wanted a little glimpse into their lives. I don't know if I should write more about them, little snippets or text or idk.
#lestappen#lestappen x reader#lestappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#f1#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic
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The Ol switcharoo (pt4)
Stan x reader/ ford x reader
Summary: You journey into stanfords mind for the sake of the shack when you learn more than you probably should have
Warning: none Look, I'm trying to lay down more romance. The stakes are gonna get raised soon. We can't keep tiptoeing guys
Also sorry if it feels a little choppy and all over the place
Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~
Stanford had been distant a lot more than you would like to have admitted over the past few weeks. Sure, you'd get the kids together, and all of you would hang out and have your own little adventures, but more often than not, you couldn't find him before you followed your new adopted great niece and nephew out the door for the next great adventure or activity for the summer.
You loved going out with them, taking them to lunch, or to shop Dipper even more recently, inviting you to monster hunt again. But when you weren't invited and the kids went on their own journey, you found the house was only quiet.
In the what seemed to be rare and far in-between days stan was with the three of you, you felt a great wave of peace wash over you. The four of you laughing in the car after narrowly escaping one of stans crazy ideas, sitting with him on the back porch, watching the kids run around.
You felt a buzz inside you when you sat next to him, watching him laugh at dippers water balloon hitting the ground without a pop. You loved your routine with him before the kids arrived. It seemed like that was becoming all you knew.
But the shack felt different with laughter filling it up. And if you realized it or not, those two kids were bringing you closer to Stanford when he hung around. You took a deep breath and scooted in closer to Stanford, his arm instinctively wrapped around the back of the couch, letting you fill as much space next to him as you wished.
"I can't believe this is my life now. I don't know what i did to deserve this." He said, looking down at you as you now watched the twins in the yard. "Everything happens for a reason, remember?"
"I guess so." His hand fell softly onto your shoulder, snuggling you closer. "Look out!" You and Stanford both jumped up as one of the water balloons landed where you were once sitting.
"Can't a guy get any peace around here!?" You laugh at him as he runs out into the yard demanding a balloon.
The feelings washed away, knowing he'd be hiding by tonight.
He was right, though. You couldn't believe this was your life as of right now.
"Y/n?"
You hummed in response as you cleaned dippers cut. "Would you say your feelings for Grunkle stan are...of the romantic kind?" Mable asked from right beside her brother her own adventure wounds needing to be rented too.
"Mable!" Dipper yelped, knocking her over with a nudge. You laughed out loud at her question. "Sorry..sorry." You cleared your throat. "Excuse me. Mable, what would make you ask something like that?"
"Oh c'moonnn as a love expert-"
"Your twelve-"
"I can see how you and grunkle stan look at eachother, you've been friends for years, and you've really never felt anything more than friendship for him?"
You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about her question. "I guess maybe a few years ago... but things were different back then, and I never knew how he felt about me. Besides, so much time has passed that I'm sure that old fart feels anything other than tired anymore." Mable jumped to her feet and smashed your cheeks together.
"Y/n it is my mission as a matchmaker and love expert of gravity falls. I make it my mission to get you and my grunkle together!"
"Mable, why do you even care? Grunkle stan has shown no interest in anything other than money since we've been here."
"Dippers got a point." You say pulling tables small hands from your face. "Besides, I'm not taking love advice from the girl who dated little Gideon not too long ago."
Mable's face grew red, and she pulled the neck of her sweater up. "Ugh, don't remind me." You chuckled again, refocusing the attention to the wounds on each kid as Dipper went back to explaining what had happened in the first place.
You'd gone the next few weeks thinking about mables question. Did you still have feelings for stanford?
It wasn't something you thought much about. You two just existed with eachother nothing ever really came out of it since you were young. Besides, you'd never make a move unless you knew his exact feeling for you. He'd been so secretive recently that the only way For that to happen, you'd have to get inside his mind to find anything like that out.
Of course that was almost impossible.
"Y/N THERES A LITTLE YELLOW GUY TRUING TO TAKE OVER STANS MIND WE NEED YOUR HELP DIPPERS GOING TO TAKE US IN THERE COME ON COME ON!"
Of course maybe you spoke to soon.
"Mable slow down! What's going on!?" You asked as she dragged you by the sleeve into the family room where Stanford sat sleeping.
"So like we saw little Gideon in the woods and poof a little yellow man appeared and he made a deal with him to go inside stans mind to get the code to the safe that Mr pines keeps the deed in." Soos explained in one long breath you could see his face Turing a strange shade of red and violet.
"Wha-"
"No time we need to go now before it's to late!" Mable cried before you could even think to ask for clarification or any follow up questions.
You followed along with what Dipper told you to do, and you watched as he read from an oddly familiar book.
You make a note to ask him about it later.
Your thoughts were cut off as dippers chanting got louder, and before you knew it, the world had melted away from you, and you were suddenly sitting in a patch of grey grass.
"Wow! This is stans mind?" Mable said, hopping up and looking at the grey landscape before you.
You pushed yourself and looked around jaw on the floor. "I've done some pretty crazy things in my day, but this is beyond me..."
"Thanks for coming along y/n!" Mable said.
"Of course! You know you can count on me for anything, kids."
"OK, we need to keep an eye out for the triangle guy." Dipper stated as you headed twoard the shack.
"Yea, look put for the triangle guy!" You jumped at the voice that appeared out if no were surprised to see it belonged to exactly what the kids and soos had said.
"It's him it's the guy!" Soos said in alarm pointing at the glowing shape.
"You leave our grunkles mind alone, you isosollies monster!" Mable shouted as she charged at him. "Mable!" You and Dipper shouted each holding out an arm to grab her.
You watched in horror as the triangle swallowed her up and waited a minute before spitting her back out into your arms.
"Stan's family, it's good to finally meet you! Some more than others!" He said, floating particularly close to you as he said so. You scowled at him and shielded Mable from him. "Names bill cipher."
"Get out of stans mind! You have no business here!" Dipper shouted.
"Trust me, kid! You're the only one who should be getting out of here your way over your heads." His one winked as he shot a finger gun twoard Dipper shooting ahole through him. "I'm gonna find that code and and you're not going to stop me!"
He flew away, leaving a triangle shape hole in the shack.
"We gotta get that code before that freak does." You said pausing to giggle as Mable reached her arm through the hole in dippers chest.
"Mable!" You coughed and put on a serious face. "Alright, kids...and soos.. let's go."
You lead the way into the shack of stans mind your eyes darting from door to door each labeled a different thing.
Fears, hopes, etc.
"Look! Stans memories!" Soos pointed out. You all ran into the hall watching memories play out all around you. "Quick, let's split up and cover more ground."
You turned to open a door but the mables' hand caught yours. "Look what I found!" She squealed with giddy. "You found the code? Already?" She shook her head and dragged you out down the memory hall and too a door with a heart carved into the wood. Signage warning against opening the door nearly covering every inch.
"What is this?" You asked the girl beside you. "Look for yourself." She lifted up a "get lost" sign to reveal the doors true label.
"Y/ns memories."
"Oh Mable I dunno...we should really be looking for the code."
"Oh, c'mon, you said it yourself that you never really knew what he felt for you it wouldn't hurt to look!"
"Yes, Mable, it would! the shack is at steak-"
Before you could continue, Mable had opened the door and pushed you in. "Face your fears y/n! Face your emotions!" She slammed the door shut on you. "Don't worry y/n we'll find the code before bill does, I'll come back for you when we do!"
you huffed and stood up dusting yourself off, this was ridicules you knew how Stanford felt about you you've known each other for what felt like your whole life. Besides you told Mable already if anything was to happen it would have by now. your hand grasped the door handle as you prepared to chase the twins and Soos down.
"Congratulations!" you heard a voice say from behind you. you turned to see one of the many doors cracked open. despite your better judgment to go after the kids you went straight for the door pulling it open. to see your wedding day.
well, your fake Vegas wedding. stan stood at the counter with the cashier in a dinky thrift shop on the outskirts of Vegas itself, waiting for you. "oh right..." you mumble to yourself watching your shared memory through Stans eyes.
"I'm sure you're very excited about the wedding." Stanford shrugged. "Trust me, I've been married a few times...this ain't nothing new for me." you frowned a little, you weren't sure why, you knew that's how he'd felt and it wasn't a real wedding. "Stanford! Look at this!!!" you yelled excitedly to him pushing open a dressing room curtain behind him.
you excitedly spun around in the wedding outfit you had picked out, you were so much younger, it suspired you too see yourself.
you watched Stanford's face flush upon seeing you his eyes fixated on you jaw almost on the floor. you didn't remember him looking at you like that. "wow you look...you look amazing!" he said rubbing the back of his neck trying to find the right words. you squealed in a pitch similar to the one Mable had done earlier before shutting the curtain again. "you were saying this wasn't something new?" the cashier asked raising a suspicious eyebrow.
"listen between you and me this whole Vegas wedding isn't anything new for me...they're corny, cheap and lousy all things y/n doesn't deserve any of that stuff, and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people, but I've known y/n for a while now the way she makes me feel isn't like how anyone has made me feel before I could never tell any of this too her, I've ruined to many relationships I could risk losing her in my life so try to act nonchalant about these types of thing, don't want to give myself away you know." the cashier stared at him unsure of how to react to all the information dumped onto him.
"here's 20 bucks to forget everything I said." he said sliding money across the counter.
you shut the door with a smile before looking down the long hallway. you crept over to another one. opening the door only to see a normal night you asleep on his shoulder as he continued to talk about the movie that was playing without realizing. it took him a whole monologue before realizing you had passed out. he leaned over careful not to wake you but enough to see you where sleeping.
he took a deep breath before talking some more. "Here goes nothing, y/n you've been with me through thick and thin when no one had my back you where there...I guess what I'm trying to say is y/n I...I think I have feeing's for you...you've made me an honest man in some ways...and.." you jumped upon hearing screaming.
"Oh no Kids!" you took off running swinging the door open and running down the hallway running past memories trying to find the kids. "Dipper!? Mable? Soos!?"
"Dipper!-"
"This here's a-"
"Stan Vac-"
"Stanley do something-" you could no longer hear the kids let alone see them in all the noise of Stanford's memories. you began running out of the memories hall in hopes you'd find them somewhere else. "Dipper!? Mab-" the wind was knocked out of you as you and dipper crashed right into each other. "Y/n! there you are!"
"Dipper you're ok! where is your sister and Soos!?"
"Bills got them! Don't worry I have a plan!" you followed dipper through Stanford's mind following his exact plan, you never even thought about what you could do in ones mind, flying and giant water guns didn't never even cross your mind.
"Hey one eye!" you and dipper grabbed bills attention as you floated up to his level neon colored squirt guns in hand. "WHAT!?"
"Dipper! Y/N! how are you doing that?"
"This is a mindscape you can do anything you imagine in here!" you explained."who told you that? dont liten to them!"
"ready dipper!?"
"ready y/n! aim and..."
"Fire!" you both shot your water guns at bills eye causing him to cry out in pain, you watched Mable conjure herself kitten fists and launched them at bill.
"Now think of a portal out of stans mind!" the four of you shut your eyes and all thought as hard as you could as a portal opened up under bill. "No No No wait! wait! wait! ENOUGH!"
you all flew back as the space around you was now a white void. "you know you're all a lot smarter than you look! I'll let you go for now, you might prove to be useful especially you y/n."
you scrunched your nose at him. "but remember there will come a day when everything you care about will change! until then I'll be watching you!"
there was a bright flash and he was gone. "well that wasn't ominous.." you said "we did it though! He left!" dipper cheered.
before you knew it Stan woke up and you were all wakening up in the Livingroom. and for a moment everything was normal again. "Ugh I had the weirdest dream." stan said rubbing his head. "You're ok!" you exclaimed running over to hug him and planting a quick kiss on his lips. his face heated up as you did so and before you knew it the kids had joined the hug.
a few hours later you'd gotten the kids to go to bed and found Stanford sitting on the back porch. "care for a drink?" you asked offering him a pitty cola he accepted with a smile. and you sat down next to him.
"where have you been?' you asked. a lot had happened today a lot that made you think things over and you decided to start there.
"what do you mean?" he asked with a chuckle. "I've been right here like i always have."
you shook your head. "Most days we can't find you, its been me and the kids or just me in the house, a lot has changed since those two came around most of its been for the better but i didn't think it would drive you away."
he frowned. "do you trust me?"
"Of course." you answered without hesitation.
"I've been working on something i cant tell you what but it's important. and I'll tell you what if it bothers you so much, I'll be around more." you smiled.
"good, I miss you." you said bumping into him.
you both chuckled and then there was a beat of silence you looked up at the sky and took a breath. "Stanford."
"Yea?"
"I think...we'll in light of some recent events...Stanford you mean the world to me."
"uh-oh is something wrong? why are you getting all sappy?"
you took another breath and exhaled all the words you were trying to say.
"Stanford pines I think I'm in love with you and I think you feel the same way about me!" you covered your mouth after you spilled it all. and he stared at you in shock. "Y/n...I uh..."
"I know this is random...buy. You know better late than never, right?"
stan stared at you in awe where your eyes sparkling in the starlight. was this really happening to him right now?
"Stanford?" you placed a hand over his when went silent. normally he would jump at an opportunity like this. sweep you off your feet. But as he stared at your hopeful eyes all he could do was wonder how much of what you felt was really for him, Stanley Pines and how much of it was for who you had believed him to be.
"Oh come on Grunkle stan! Take her on a date already!" Mables voice shouted from above you.
"Mable? what are you doing up!?" you shouted standing to your feet to look up at the twins practically hanging out their window. "yea c'mon Grunkle stan!" dipper agreed with his sister.
"Date! Date! date!" the two kids cheered into the night air.
"alright! alright!" stan said trying to shush them.
"y/n...would you do me the honors of going to dinner with me?" you laughed and his heart swelled at your answer. "Of course Stanford pines."
~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
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#ford pines x reader#gravity falls x reader#stan pines x reader#stanford pines x reader#Stanley pines x reader
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Keep Me (And I’ll Keep You)
Ao3 Link
Eddie hums contentedly as he sits on the couch, beer in hand. The couch is cotton, a soft brown that matches the rest of the living room. It’s one of those fancy sectionals that, up until knowing Steve, Eddie had only seen in catalogs. It’s a comfy couch, and he hums again as he settles in, wiggling his butt and shoulders, doing his best to let the couch envelop him.
Steve, to his left, snorts as he sits down. “Looks like you’re trying to become one with the couch.”
“Hey, it’s comfortable,” Eddie says, giving an aborted shrug and leaning his head back.
Steve chuckles, then sobers. “Y’know, sometimes I think when I move out, what’s the one thing I’m gonna miss the most? What’s the one thing I want to bring with me? And nine times out of ten, it’s this couch.”
“What’s the other one?”
“The microwave.” Eddie snickers. “Hey, you laugh, but those things are expensive!” Steve defends himself, also laughing. He’s got one knee up on the couch, turned to face Eddie, leaning sideways against the back of the couch.
A shout startles them both, and Eddie whips his head around to the dining room, where the Party is gathered. Will is DM today, after a long brainstorming session with Eddie. He’d brought the kids here and is available in case Will gets stuck, but Eddie silently thinks Will downplays his abilities. He’s a damn good DM, especially for his age, and Eddie was actively considering joining in.
Ultimately he decided to let the kids have this one. Erica, no doubt, would’ve joked (at least, he thinks it’s a joke) about Eddie cramping their style.
So here he is, relaxing on the couch with the man of the house, who’s relaxing now that he knows there’s no actual danger, only imagined.
Steve sighs, leaning forward to put his beer on the coffee table. “One of these days I’m gonna wake up and find a grey hair, and I’m gonna know it came from them.”
Eddie snorts. “Oh, man, you think that’s bad,” he jokes, and continues on to tell a story about something the kids had done involving Dustin’s second cat, a balloon, and a car tire. He leans forward to put his beer down, too, and when he leans back again Steve slides forward, head coming to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.
And here’s the deal, right? They don’t do that. They don’t casual touch like that. Eddie does, with most anybody, but Steve is in a class of his own, one that Eddie knows not to mess with for his own heart’s sake.
Said heart rabbits in his chest as he freezes, words drying up. He slowly looks over at Steve and sees closed eyes and open mouth. “Oh,” he whispers, cataloging the soft wisp of eyelashes resting on cheeks, the crinkle on his nose, scrunching up his moles, the lips slightly parted, driving damp puffs of breath to land on Eddie’s arm.
The next thing Eddie notices is Steve’s neck is at a weird angle. If he were to guess, he’d say Steve hadn’t been sleeping very well, and waking him is the last thing he wants to do. He tries to shimmy down the couch a little, to relax Steve’s neck some, but Steve’s upper body moves with his head, and now Eddie thinks the crick in his neck is more severe. “Fuck,” he mutters, shimmying down more, because surely it’ll work this time.
Something happens. He doesn’t know what, exactly, just knows that as he shimmies down Steve’s head slides down his shoulder, down his chest, to land on his stomach.
Steve murmurs something and shifts, turning his face into Eddie’s stomach as he stretches out, still asleep.
Butterflies awaken with a vengeance.
Shifting down his body means Eddie’s arm is free. He lifts it up nonsensically, as if not touching Steve of his own will is better than whatever the fuck is happening, but he can only hold his arm up for so long, so he eventually, gently rests it over Steve’s back and side. “What the fuck,” he mouths to himself.
It’s quiet and comfortable, though, the low murmur of voices in the other room doing nothing to keep Eddie awake, so it’s not long before he begins to drift off, too.
Sue him, he hasn’t been sleeping all that well, either.
He opens his eyes to Will walking into the room before seeing them and freezing. Eddie forces himself more awake, blinking rapidly until some of the fog lifts. He gestures Will closer with the hand not on Steve, and Will shakes his head, smiling. “We’re done,” he whispers. “I’ll call Jonathan.”
The words take a minute to make sense in Eddie’s brain. When they do, he shoots Will a thumbs up.
Will leaves, and Eddie succumbs to the siren call of sleep once more.
When he wakes up, he’s alone.
It’s morning, he can tell by the light in the room, natural now instead of artificial. His back is screaming at him, and his neck isn’t too happy either, so he takes his time sitting up and stretching, imagining the jokes Wayne would throw his way.
“Oh,” someone says, and Eddie looks over to see Steve, pink-cheeked, holding two mugs of coffee.
He seems to make a decision and crosses over to the couch, handing Eddie one of the mugs. It’s blue-and-white checkered, like Dorothy’s dress in The Wizard of Oz, and something about it makes Eddie smile even before Steve says, “Here. Enough sugar to give a bull a heart attack.”
Eddie takes a sip and hums gratefully. “Thanks, man.”
“I, uh. Think that’s my line.” Steve’s cheeks are even pinker now, and he’s studiously not looking at Eddie. “And sorry. For falling asleep on you.”
There’s about a million things Eddie wants to say that he bites his tongue on. Ends up with, “Actually, I slept really well last night.”
Steve’s cheeks are still pink, but he at least glances at Eddie when he says, “Yeah. Me too.”
In for a penny, in for a pound, Eddie thinks. “I haven’t been sleeping super well, actually. You know how it is.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “I do.”
It’s silent for a second, long enough that Eddie begins to inanely suggest, “Maybe we could-”
At the same time, Steve starts, “What if we-”
They break off at the same time, blinking at each other before laughing. “You first,” Eddie says.
Steve’s cheeks burn again. “What if we did it again?”
Eddie grins. “I was gonna say maybe we could do it again,” he admits.
Steve giggles, and Eddie has to work to not stare at him with actual hearts in his eyes.
“Not every night,” Eddie hazards. God knows he wants to do it every night. God also knows it’s the fastest way to break his own heart.
“No, of course not. Just- when it gets bad?”
It’s bad every night, Eddie swallows, chokes on. “Yeah,” he says quietly.
“And- we’ll just call each other, I guess.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “You- you’re welcome to call whenever. Day or night. Doesn’t matter.”
“Same for you.”
“What about Wayne?”
“Works nights. And I’m home during the day. If I’m not, I’m with you guys. No chance of waking him up.”
Steve snickers. “Unless you sleep through the phone ringing.”
Eddie snorts. “Fat chance. Every little sound wakes me up, now.”
Steve really looks at him. “Yeah,” he finally murmurs. “I know how that is.”
They finish their coffee, Eddie leaves, and Steve heads into work.
That night, four seconds before Eddie gets up to call Steve, the phone rings.
He bolts down the hall, grabs it so hard he hears the plastic casing creak. “Hello?”
“Eddie.” Steve sounds… small. Relieved, like he wasn’t sure Eddie would answer. “Thought-” Eddie can hear the crease between his brows. “Dream, I guess.” He sniffs, clears his throat. “Sorry.”
“No, hey,” Eddie tells him, “that’s why we’re doing this, you don’t need to say sorry. D’you wanna stay on the phone for a few more minutes? Or can I go for, like, ten minutes?” Usually the drive to Steve’s house is more like fifteen, he knows, but like hell is he following the speed limits when they’re both feeling like this.
“No,” Steve murmurs. “I can- I can go, sorry, you should- you were asleep, I bet-”
“Nope,” Eddie tells him cheerfully. “I wasn’t asleep and I actually was about to call you. I’m gonna hang up so I can drive over, Steve. Are you at a place where you’ll be okay if I hang up?”
Steve hums. “Think so.”
“I’m not getting off until that’s a yes.”
Steve huffs out a breath. “No, it’s- ‘m fine, sorry, you can- if you wanna go-”
“Steve. You’re kinda proving that you’re not okay right now.”
“Oh.”
Eddie huffs out an approximation of a laugh. “Yeah. Think you can take some deep breaths for me?”
Steve takes a shaky breath. “Yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll do it with you, ready?” He coaches Steve through a breath, then through three more, until Steve’s able to inhale without it sticking. “Good. How’re you feeling?”
“Better,” Steve admits. “You don’t have to come over if you don’t want to.”
“Stevie, baby, I don��t have to do anything.”
He’s grinning, hamming it up for Steve, and can hear the smile in return, the little huff that means a laugh. “But you’re coming over? Because you want to?”
“Ding ding ding, that is correct!” Steve giggles. When it dies down, Eddie quietly says, “I’ll see you in ten, okay?”
“Fifteen,” Steve counters, “don’t speed.”
“Five,” Eddie says nonsensically.
Steve giggles as he says, “You’re already here?”
“I’m already in your bed, are you kiddin’ me? I got there half an hour ago.”
Steve laughs again. When he sobers, he says, “Fifteen. I’ll unlock the door in thirteen, not a minute sooner.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Eddie says, “seven,” and hangs up to Steve’s laughter.
He’s smiling as he pulls shoes on and grabs his keys and wallet. He’s out the door in two minutes, locking it behind him and hopping into his van.
He makes it to Steve’s in twelve minutes, hoping the door’s unlocked so he can walk in.
Steve opens it before he can even get there. “What happened to fifteen?”
Eddie shrugs, smiles. “You know me.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he moves to let Eddie in. “Unfortunately I do.”
“Hey,” Eddie says, affronted, “what’s that mean,” and pulls Steve into a hug before he can say anything.
Steve stiffens for a second, not expecting the hug, but then relaxes into it so quickly Eddie’s almost sure he imagines the stiffness. “Thanks for coming,” he whispers.
“Thanks for calling,” Eddie whispers back, pulling away with a smile. “Bed? Or not yet?”
“Bed,” Steve agrees, leading him upstairs before stopping halfway. “Or- would you prefer the couch?”
“Why the hell would I prefer a couch over a bed,” Eddie demands, nudging Steve to keep him moving. His words are soft, though, as he says, “Wherever you want.”
“Bed,” Steve agrees, just as softly.
They climb in then stare at each other. “How do you wanna do this?” Steve asks him.
“However you want.”
Steve shakes his head. “I’ll take too much,” he whispers.
Eddie thinks, privately, Steve’s more fucked up than anyone knows. “Not if I’m willing to give you everything,” Eddie swears, heart in his throat and on the line. “C’mon. You called me. Help me learn how to help you.”
“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”
“It won’t be,” Eddie swears, “but yeah. I’ll tell you.”
Steve looks at him for a long moment. Eddie does his best to keep his expression open and willing. He’s not sure how he’s doing, but it must be good enough for Steve, because he burrows in, tucking his face into Eddie’s chest, throwing an arm over Eddie’s waist and relaxing.
Eddie responds in kind, laying an arm over Steve’s, around his back, and pulling him in that little bit closer. “Sleep,” he whispers, even as he succumbs and his eyes close.
When he awakens in the morning, it’s still dark, but Steve’s getting up. He makes a questioning noise, reaching out for him.
Steve squeezes his hand before placing it down again. “Just going to the bathroom,” he whispers. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He falls back asleep.
When he wakes up again, Steve’s back in bed, curled up against him, breath whiffling across Eddie’s chest.
Something in his chest cracks open as he lets himself study Steve. There’s a slight furrow in his brow, like even in sleep he’s still holding onto stress. Eddie wants to hold him by the ankles and shake him until all the bad thoughts come out and only the good remain. A sigh escapes his mouth at the thought, wisping over Steve’s face, and it’s apparently enough to wake him. Eddie watches as Steve’s face scrunches and his feet kick out in a stretch. He rolls over closer to Eddie, putting his face in Eddie’s chest, then freezes and pulls back, looking up at Eddie with a confused frown that quickly turns into a shy smile. “Morning,” he murmurs.
“Morning,” Eddie responds.
“Y’wake?” Steve asks nonsensically, but Eddie understands: is he really up, or is he going back to sleep.
Eddie shrugs in response. Steve nods, rolling back over into Eddie’s chest and sighing.
The thing in Eddie’s chest cracks more.
He wraps his arm around Steve again. He feels it, the moment Steve falls asleep, all tension leeching from his body.
He’s warm and solid, breathing evenly, and Eddie’s eyes don’t want to open, go longer and longer between blinks.
He falls asleep.
When he wakes up again—the third and final time—Steve’s out of bed, and the sheets are cool to the touch. “What,” he mutters, brows furrowed, palm on the sheets next to him. The area is slowly warming up, from his body heat, but they were definitely cold.
He sits up, stretches, scratches his head, and makes his way downstairs to look for Steve.
He can smell coffee and pancakes halfway down. The thing in his chest is wide open, hungry, hurting.
Hunting.
He thinks, stuck halfway down the stairs, he needs to stay away from Steve.
He has no idea how he’s going to do that.
He finishes his walk and finds himself in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the wall, watching Steve cook.
He flips a pancake, shimmies his hips when the pancake is perfectly brown, and slides it off onto a stack next to him. He pours more batter in and turns to get some coffee, freezing for a second when he sees Eddie. “Hey, you’re up! How’d you sleep?”
Eddie nods, watching Steve walk over to the coffee pot and grab two mugs. “Pancakes are almost done, coffee’s here, sugar’s here-” he points, “-and milk’s in the fridge. Help yourself.”
“Um,” Eddie says, and heads toward the coffee.
Steve grins. “Not a morning person? I can tone it down if you need me to.”
Eddie waves him off, doctors his coffee, and takes a long sip, humming at the taste and warmth. “You’re fine,” he finally says. “I just need, like, five minutes for my brain to go oh, we’re awake, I should work.” He adopts a funny voice for his brain, smirking when Steve laughs.
“Fair enough. Any plans for the day?”
Eddie hums as he thinks through his schedule. “Band practice with the guys tonight, and…” he doesn’t have any plans with Wayne, but he knows he needs to talk this through, so, “Wayne wants my help with… something. I dunno.”
Steve snorts. “Sounds exciting.”
“Oh, yeah, the height of excitement, I’m just gonna expire from anticipation.” He sends Steve a flat look, and Steve cackles as he flips another pancake.
“Well let me know if this super-exciting thing you’re doing needs another set of hands.”
“Will do,” Eddie says. “Thanks for breakfast, by the way.”
Steve shrugs. “I like cooking. Not much reason to when it’s just me, so I don’t usually do pancakes, but I do enjoy it.”
“Well,” Eddie says, leaning on the counter, “isn’t that reason enough?”
Steve stills for a moment, tilting his head. “Huh. I never thought of it that way.”
The thing in Eddie’s chest grumbles.
His stomach also grumbles, and Steve hears that, laughing as he retrieves a plate. “Here, take some, syrup is in the pantry and jelly is in the fridge.” He stacks a plate with four pancakes, thrusting it Eddie’s direction.
Eddie notices there’s only two on his plate, takes one from his pile and puts it on Steve’s. “Only if you eat too.”
Steve smiles at him, a small, real thing that makes the thing, the monster in his chest ache. “Okay.”
Eddie leaves soon after, quoting his thing with Wayne, makes sure Steve knows he can call if he needs someone.
Steve makes sure he knows the same.
The monster claws at his chest.
He covers the wince with a grin, waves on his way out, jumps into his van.
Turns the tape up until the drumbeat drowns out his thoughts.
He’s back to the trailer in fifteen. Wayne’s there, awake, facing the door when Eddie comes through. “Thought so,” he says, first thing. “You needta talk.”
Eddie collapses into a ball on the couch.
Wayne joins him, pulls him in, like he’s two instead of twenty, like a heart in danger of breaking is the same as a skinned knee. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Talk to me. That’s what you do.”
“I really like him, Wayne.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s- he’s so nice, but he-”
He sniffles. Only realizes then that he’s crying. “Wayne,” he asks, “am I a good person?”
“You are.”
“Why’s the worst shit always happen to good people?”
Wayne sighs. “I wish I knew.”
“He’s better than me. And he’s had so much shit thrown his way. And I just- I wanna help but I dunno how when I see him like this.”
“You wanna take care of him.”
“Yeah.” Another sniffle. “But he doesn’t want that.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Didn’t need to. I can see it.”
Wayne hums. “Y’know when you first got here, you were scared of me? Not ‘cause I’m Al’s brother. Because of me. ‘Cause my face scared you. You thought I was always mad. Sometimes what you see isn’t how it is.”
“But how do I know?”
“You don’t. Not unless you talk to him.” He rubs a hand down Eddie’s spine. “How ‘bout that Birdie girl? She’s his best friend. She might be able to tell you more.”
“She won’t tell me anything.”
“My momma had a saying. Honesty begets honesty. Talk to her. Tell her the truth. She’ll tell you a truth right back.”
“…Today?”
“Better sooner ‘n later, but I guess it don’t gotta be today.”
Eddie sighs. “Today.” He picks at the knee of his sleep pants, worn with age. “How?”
“How do you talk to her?”
“Mhm.”
“Honesty, boy. ‘S about all y’got.”
Eddie sighs, leans into Wayne. Lets himself be held for a moment longer.
Wayne sighs, too. “Wanna watch that animal documentary?”
Eddie immediately perks up. “Really? You’ll watch it with me?”
Wayne smiles, nudges him off his lap. “Go put it in.”
Eddie grins as he races to do so, and the next two hours is lost to polar bears and orcas.
After it’s over, Wayne stands with a sigh and ruffles Eddie’s hair as he walks past. “Got work tonight. Y’mind bein’ quiet today?”
Eddie hums. “Imma go find Robin. Talk to her. Wish me luck.”
“Y’dont need it,” Wayne says, “but luck anyways.” He waves as he passes into his room.
Eddie grabs his car keys, looks down, and sets the keys back down before trudging to his room to change.
Soon enough he’s walking into Family Video. “Buckley!” He greets happily.
“Munson!” She parrots before her voice flattens. “The fuck you want.” Her eyes are sparkling, though, and the corners of her mouth are twitching up, so he pays no mind to her words. He drapes himself over the counter with a dramatic sigh. “You ‘lone?”
“Yeah.”
“Can we… talk?”
“This is starting to feel like a visit to the principal’s office.”
He pops his head up, eyes wide. “No, no, no! It’s not that at all! It’s me.” He lays his head back down with another sigh. “It’s… okay, so, let’s say, hypothetically, I… liked someone.”
“Steve, got it, go on.”
He puts an arm over his face. “And let’s say—still hypothetically—I did something, said something, that means we’re gonna be in close contact a lot more than before.”
“Okay. I’m following so far.”
He shrugs. “What do I do?”
“What’s the thing?”
“Y’know how he hosted Hellfire last time?”
“Sure.”
“Well I wasn’t playing, Will was DM and I was just there for guidance if he needed it, which he didn’t, kid’s a natural, but. Anyways. I was sitting with Steve in the living room, and we were talking, and I start telling him this story and… he falls asleep on my shoulder.” He groans. “And he looked so peaceful, I couldn’t disturb that, y’know?”
“Okay, I’m following so far.”
“Well turns out when there’s nothing to do but sit there, you end up falling asleep, too.” He clenches a hand in his hair. “We cuddled, Birdie. And then we told each other that we slept well, so I, like the absolute fool I am, said he can call me. If he wants. If he needs someone.”
“He called you last night.”
“He did. I dunno what to do, Robbie.”
“I’m not in the business of telling you what to do. But I can tell you if you told him, he wouldn’t react badly.”
“You’re sure?”
She lays her head down next to his, meeting his eyes. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“So… you think I should tell him?”
“I can’t tell you what to do, Eddie.”
He groans and shuts his eyes. “This sucks.”
“Feelings usually do,” she nods, standing up and ruffling his hair. “But if I were you, I’d talk to him.”
Eddie makes a face. “Today?”
Robin shrugs. “Is there a better time?”
Eddie thinks it through. “Tomorrow,” he decides. He looks up at Robin. “If I don’t tell him tomorrow, can you tell him the day after?”
Robin raises her brows. “You want me to?”
“Yeah. Like… like incentive. Because if I know it’s gonna happen anyways, it’s better if I do it, right?”
Robin smiles. “I’ll tell him the day after tomorrow if you don’t.”
“Thanks.” He squeezes her hand, straightens up. Smiles. “I’ve gotta run. You’re a good friend, Buckley.”
She smiles, rolls her eyes. “Get outta here, Munson.”
His grin grows wider. “You’re a good friend, Buckley, I don’t know what I do without you!”
“Die, probably,” she deadpans, also grinning. She makes a shooing motion. “You said you’ve gotta run, so go!”
He laughs and runs out, waving over his shoulder.
He makes it to practice just as Gareth does, and not much practice happens that day, but is it really his fault that Jeff’s mom made lemonade and cookies for them?
He gets home that night, tired but happy, and watches a little TV before going to bed.
It’s a scary movie, not one he’s seen before, with a girl with long, dark hair, obscuring her face. She seems to grin right at Eddie and walks toward the camera. He laughs, because it doesn’t even look real.
Except suddenly it is. Suddenly she’s climbing through the screen, doing things he’s never seen a contortionist do, and heading straight for him. He scrambles over the couch and runs for his room, the girl close behind. He closes and locks the door, searching for his walkie. When he finds it, he depresses the button and yells, “Code red! I repeat, code red! Can anyone hear me?”
Only static greets him when he lets go of the button. His hand begins to shake.
“Code red,” he says again, quieter this time. “Please help, someone, please- it’s a code red, I’m serious!”
She rattles his doorknob, long fingers sneaking under his door, reaching and growing until they can almost reach the lock.
“Hello?” Someone calls out from inside the trailer.
Steve.
“Oh, holy shit-” he can hear Steve scramble back. “Eddie? Are you okay?”
“Uh,” Eddie says, “I’m alive?”
The fingers stop growing. In the blink of an eye, they’re gone. The girl hisses, and Steve whispers out another curse.
Eddie tiptoes to his door amid the sound of fighting. When everything goes quiet, he opens his door.
He can’t see anything at first. He silently walks out of his room, looking around, freezing at the sight of Steve on the ground, eyes open, mouth agape, and the girl crouching over him.
She’s hissing at Eddie, but he can’t even care about that right now, because Steve is looking directly at him, and he knows what it looks like when someone’s dead, and he-
Steve-
Eddie swallows bile, drops to his knees. “Steve?”
He never got the chance to say anything.
Only had one day to enjoy holding him.
He could’ve had longer, if he’d said something before now, if he’d made a move-
Or if not, at least Steve wouldn’t be here, dead-
He swallows a sob. The girl turns to him, still hissing, and slowly advances.
He closes his eyes. Waits for the inevitable. Sends a silent apology to his uncle.
Except… nothing happens.
He blinks his eyes open carefully, confused when he’s in his dark room. He sits up, looking around, grateful the moon is bright enough to light up his room enough for him to see.
He creeps out of bed, carefully opens his door, and looks around.
His eyes catch on the place he’d seen Steve dead, and it’s a dream, he knows it was, but he still feels-
He dials. Tries to keep breathing as the phone rings. “‘Lo?”
“Steve?”
“Eddie.” A yawn. “You alright, man?”
“Uh,” Eddie says, looking for the right words, but apparently Steve speaks Eddie.
“Am I going over there or are you coming over here?”
“N-no, you- you don’t have to-”
“Eddie. I don’t have to do anything. I’m doing this because I want to. Are you gonna be okay for fifteen minutes?”
“Define okay,” Eddie says, still unsure what words mean. What he’s saying.
“Okay, that’s a no. Eddie, I need you to take a couple of deep breaths for me, okay? I’ll do it too. Ready? We’re gonna breathe in… in… in… now hold it, two, three, four, now out… slowly… out… and hold. Two, three, four. Twice more, okay?”
He guides Eddie through the exercise, pausing when they finish. “How’re you feeling now?”
“Better,” Eddie agrees, sighing. “I’m sorry, man, you really don’t have to come over.”
Steve scoffs. “Unlock the door, Eddie, I’ll be there in fifteen, alright?”
“M’kay,” Eddie murmurs.
“Okay. I’ll see you.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Steve ends the call, and Eddie blinks as he puts the phone back on the hook. He moves to unlock the door then sits on the couch. He doesn’t look at the TV, doesn’t look at the spot on the floor where Steve-
He flinches, a full-body shudder, when the door opens. “Eddie?” Steve asks, locking eyes with him. “Hey, man, everything okay?”
He’s alive. He’s breathing, he’s moving, he’s-
Eddie reaches out for him, face shuddering, and Steve’s quick to respond, crossing the room in three long steps and throwing himself onto the couch next to Eddie, pulling him into a hug, and Eddie can breathe again.
“Fuck,” he mutters into Steve’s neck.
“Bad one, huh?”
He holds Steve tighter. “Dreamed… code red. No one answered. You- you came.” He swallows. “I saw-” he shakes his head, buries his face into Steve’s neck. “I know what it looks like when someone dies,” he whispers.
Steve stiffens, then relaxes and pulls Eddie even closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“I keep- seeing, you-”
“Hey.” Steve grabs his neck, makes him look at his face. “I’m right here, okay? Im right here. I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re both here, and we’re both alive.” He grabs Eddie’s hand, puts it on his chest, over his heart. “Feel that? Feel my heartbeat?”
Eddie looks down at his hand. Feels the rising and falling of his chest from breathing. Feels the steady thump-thump of his heart. “Yeah,” he whispers.
“I’m right here,” Steve promises, also whispering.
Eddie lets out a shaky sigh and rests his forehead on Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah.”
Steve rubs his back for a few minutes, then pulls back a little to ask, “Wanna try and go back to bed?”
Eddie shakes his head.
“Okay. How about TV?”
“No.” His fingers clench, digging into Steve’s chest, and Steve’s hand comes up to cover his, to smooth it back out, to calm him down.
“That’s okay. How about we get something to drink?”
Eddie sighs, takes one deep breath, lets it out. “I’m a shit host,” he jokes. “You want somethin’?”
“I was thinking tea for you,” Steve replies, smile evident in his voice. “How about it? A nice cuppa?”
Eddie snorts and pulls away. “Alright then, mate,” he jokes, affecting a British accent, then back to his normal voice. “Long as you’ll join me.”
“Always,” Steve promises, and the monster growls.
Steve makes the tea. He won’t let Eddie help, but doesn’t oppose to him sitting on the counter and watching.
After they’re finished, Eddie dumps the mugs in the sink with a mental promise to get to them tomorrow. “Okay,” he says around a yawn, “your tea worked. I’m tired.”
Steve smiles. “Bed?”
“Bed,” Eddie agrees, pushing the monster in his chest down and taping its mouth shut. He only hesitates a little when he sees his bed, but climbs in anyways, holding the covers up for Steve.
They get settled, and before he knows it, Eddie’s drifting off.
He wakes up to sunlight on his face. He groans and rolls over, snorting and pushing back when he runs into Steve, who had already been awake. “Morning,” Steve offers.
Eddie plops his head back down and resolutely shuts his eyes.
“Or not,” Steve agrees, amused.
He’s about to speak, to wake up more, when Steve shifts and puts a hand in his hair.
He melts.
He thinks his brain might be melting out of his ears, all his thoughts leaking with it, because suddenly his head is blissfully blank.
He falls asleep again.
He wakes up as Steve settles back in bed next to him, glancing up with bleary eyes. He’s got a steaming mug in one hand, glancing down at Eddie with a smile. “Morning?”
Eddie hums out something that isn’t a word in any language. He blinks, long and slow, but he’s up. He tilts his head away from the pillow to speak. “Wha’s-” he squints at the mug. “Coffee?”
Steve smiles, grabs a second mug from the nightstand, hands it over. “Enough sugar to knock out the Duracell bunny,” he teases, and Eddie’s hard pressed not to blurt out a love confession right here and now.
Except… why not, he thinks. He promised Robin he would. And sure, it doesn’t have to be right this second, but… when else would he do it? He knows himself, he’d just chicken out.
He sits up, accepts the mug. Hums at the sweet taste. Gulps down half of it in the hopes of it waking him up faster.
Steve snorts. “You’re not gonna run out, Eds, there’s more in the pot and we can always make more.”
Eddie smiles sheepishly at Steve. “‘M tryin’a wake up faster.”
Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “You don’t have to be up just because I am, dude.”
Eddie shakes his head, leans against the wall. Can’t look at Steve when he says, “No, I, uh. Actually wanted to talk to you?”
He can see, in his periphery, Steve turning to look at him. “About what?”
He works his lip, takes another sip. “About…” he sighs. “About what we’re doing. About how I don’t think we should.” He ducks his head. “I- I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s fine, I swear, I can get over myself. But I can’t if we keep doing this. ‘Cause I’m, like… stupidly gone on you, man. And I can’t- I can’t keep doing this.” He shuts his eyes. “I could, I could make myself, I could try to tune it out, I could- I could break my own heart. Which is exactly why I can’t.” He doesn’t know when his voice lowered into a whisper, but it did, and the last word comes out scared and breathy.
Steve takes a shaky breath. “You… like me?”
Eddie breathes in. Breathes out. Nods.
Steve swallows audibly, turns to face him. “How?”
He’s whispering, too, and Eddie looks up at him. Looks into honey-brown eyes, full of muted hope. “How do I like you?” Steve nods, and Eddie blows out a breath. “I like you… in the way I always want to make you laugh. In the way I want to always be there for you when you’re sad, or scared, or need help. In the way I want to know every piece of you so well I know how you’re feeling before you do. I want to make you dinner, and pull you close on the couch when we’re watching a movie, and wake up every morning to your face. I want to take you to Enzo’s and play footsie under the table with you until we’re both laughing way too hard and the waitress is staring at us because she just wants us to order. I want to scream it from the rooftops, even though I know I can’t. I want to hold your hand and run my fingers through your hair.”
“You want to keep me,” Steve whispers.
Eddie nods slowly. “Yeah. I want to keep you. I want you to be mine the way I’ve been yours.”
“I am yours,” Steve murmurs. “I want you to keep me.” He watches Eddie for a second. “You want to kiss me?”
Edie looks up at him. Slowly nods.
“Then do it,” Steve whispers in a hiss, and Eddie does.
And he does thoroughly.
“Mine,” he whispers against Steve’s lips.
Steve pulls back, takes his mug, puts it on the nightstand with his own. Turns back to Eddie, grabs his hand, lays his head on Eddie’s chest. “Yours,” he whispers, smiling when Eddie puts his other hand in his hair.
They don’t fall asleep. It’s a close thing, but they don’t have time before Steve has to get up for work.
He hesitates in the doorway. “Tonight,” he murmurs, then falls silent.
Eddie smiles at him. “Come over?”
Steve brightens, nods. The monster in Eddie’s chest purrs, satisfied.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#robin buckley#platonic stobin#wayne munson#Wayne doesn’t get paid enough for Eddie’s shit#that’s the 4th time this week he’s watched that damn movie and it’s only Tuesday#nightmares#tw nightmares#cw nightmares#Steve needs a hug. or 12#Eddie also needs a hug or 12#Steve has nightmares#Eddie has nightmares#sharing a bed#how do I tag this#fluff#starambles
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Just Like the Movies
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend dons the ghostface mask to let you live out a fantasy
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, cnc, praise/degradation, knife play, predator/prey dynamic (he chases her idk what to call it), dacryphilia, voyeurism mentions
word count: 3.4k
a/n: i wanted to write at least one spooky thing for halloween and i love scream so here you go. i'm working on requests i promise, i just wanted to get this out before october ends. as always, thank you for the comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz ghostface photo used in the header is from @/oikizumi on pinterest!
An old scary movie plays on the television as you relax on the couch after a hard week. You had a soft blanket draped over you and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. The missing piece was your boyfriend. You were just waiting for him to come home and join you for your little makeshift marathon.
You casually watch the movie while lifting handfuls of popcorn to your mouth. You had seen this one before so it wasn’t scaring you, but it was entertaining enough to pass the time with until Leon returned to you.
It was getting to be that time of evening when he usually came marching through the door, tired from work but still with open arms for you to slide into. He hadn’t come home yet though. As you’re wondering where your lover could be, your phone begins to ring.
You sit up and grab it from the table in front of you.
No caller ID.
You raise your eyebrows at the strange nature of that. Assuming it’s a scam call though, you leave it be. However, the phone rings again. You actively decline the call this time. You place your phone down again, hoping that would be the end.
It wasn’t though because not even a minute later, your phone vibrates again.
You reach for the device and see a text message pop up on your lock screen.
‘Don’t ignore me, pretty girl.’
That piques your curiosity. When the phone rings again, you click the answer button and bring it to your ear.
“Hello?” you say.
“Finally, she answers the phone,” a smooth, predatory voice teases.
“Who is this?” you ask.
“Oh c’mon, you don’t wanna ruin the fun already, do you babydoll?” he purrs.
“Well, what do you want?” you ask. The cadence of the voice was familiar, but the actual sound of it, you couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like anyone you knew in real life.
“To talk to you. I guess you could say I’m kind of lonely,” he says with mock sadness.
“Aw, well I’m not, so bye,” you say and hang up the phone. As you begin to place that voice and the cadence behind it, Leon’s late arrival makes sense. You had disclosed this little fantasy to him recently. And it seemed like he had got the modulator to sound just like the movie for you.
Not even ten seconds go by before the phone rings again. An excited chill comes over you as you lift it and accept the call.
“Hello?”
“Why’d you hang up on me, angel? That’s not very nice of you,” he taunts, “You doing something better right now?”
“Mhm,” you hum.
“Yeah? What’s so important that you can’t spare a few moments of your precious time?”
“I’m about to watch some scary movies,” you say, a smile spreading on your face. You sit up on the couch more as you feel where this conversation is going.
“Scary movies? I like scary movies,” he says, “Tell me, do you have a favorite?”
“I like Scream. You ever seen that one?” you say teasingly.
“I’m familiar,” he says, “That one’s not really scary though. I bet I could give you more of a thrill.”
“Mm, maybe. But sadly for you, my boyfriend will be home soon.”
“Boyfriend? That’s a shame,” he says, his voice becoming a hint darker.
“I’m sure it is. Anyways, I should be going…” you trail off knowingly.
“C’mon, blondie can wait a few more minutes.”
“Blonde,” you repeat slowly, feigning fear, “How do you know he’s blonde?”
“I’ve been watching you for a while, baby. Had to make sure everything would be perfect tonight,” he says with a low laugh, “Let’s just say that we have plenty of time now.”
“Why are you doing this? Who are you?” you say, cranking up the fear in your voice. You stand up from the couch and walk to a window to see if you can spot him outside.
“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Plus, I thought girls liked the whole man of mystery thing,” he chuckles, “You’re honestly telling me this doesn’t turn you on?”
“It doesn’t!” you say defensively.
“Are you sure about that?” he breathes, “When I cut those slutty little shorts off you, I’m not gonna find a messy cunt crying for me to fill her?”
“No…” you say, your cheeks heating up while arousal pools in your belly.
“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases, “Y’know, I think I can see your nipples getting hard under that thin shirt all the way from here.”
You quickly step away from the window, a shiver shooting up your spine. You bite your lip. “Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper.
His cruel laugh crackles through the phone. “I wanna hear you cry like that when you’re cumming all over my cock.”
Every word tumbling from his lips stoked the flames of desire within you. Your veins were coursing with a primal need at this point.
“I’m gonna call the police,” you say. Your voice was breathy in what could be interpreted as terror, but in reality, it was pure lust.
“Do you think that would stop me?” he rasps into the phone, “Because, we both know I would get to you before the operator could even take your address. But let’s say you did get through. I can be quick, doll. Take what’s mine and have that tight pussy full of my cum with time to spare.”
You shift your thighs and look for the smallest semblance of friction as he lays this out to you.
“By the time any cop did get here, all they would find is a pathetic little mess, lying on the ground all fucked out and bred, a dumb smile on that pretty face.”
The tiniest whine escapes your throat from that mental image. You wonder if he heard it, but the throaty chuckle on the other end answers your question.
“You dirty fucking whore. You love this. You wanna be pinned down and used until your sweet mind is broken and completely cock drunk.”
“No, I don’t,” you say, trying to keep up the act of defiance even though your desire was palpable in your voice.
“Well, too bad. But I’ll be generous, little one. I’m telling you that I’m coming in now. A little head start if you’re smart,” he says, “You better not waste my fucking time. Give me a good chase, or I’m not gonna be nice when I catch you. Find out if your insides are as pretty as the outside.”
You hang up the phone. Your body was on fire with a mix of adrenaline and arousal. You scamper through the house into another room, wondering what to even start with. Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the back door slide open.
Your pulse thunders in your ears. You move quietly across the room you’re in, peering through the doorway back into the living room. You see him. That tall and fit body donned in a tight black t-shirt and pants. He wears black leather boots on his feet. A large hunting knife is strapped to his belt. His head is covered, and when he turns, your heart seizes at the sight of the ghostface mask.
He catches a glimpse of you through the cracked door and starts toward you. You zoom through the other door in the room, maneuvering quickly around furniture and stray clutter. Then, you loop back to the open back door. You can hear him clambering through the hall behind you. Primal fear courses through you, instinctually telling every cell in your body to run.
“Where do you think you’re going, sugar?” you hear the voice modulator crackle.
Moving through the sliding door, you dart across the backyard. The grass was wet against your feet since you didn’t have the time to grab a pair of shoes. You fumble with the gate, your hands shaking from the adrenaline coursing through you. You try to shut it behind you to delay him, but he’s already so close.
You continue sprinting into the woods behind your home. The area surrounding you was dark. It was cold out too. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps, your thin shirt and shorts not providing much warmth, and your bare feet only exacerbating the feeling.
There were trees everywhere, and it felt like there were things hiding within the dense woodland. The whole time you focused on not running into a tree, you could hear him behind you. His breathing was heavier, but it was clear he was exerting minimal effort.
You jump over overgrown roots and duck under stray branches. Despite running for a bit, you still weren’t too deep in the woods. You shoot a look behind you, trying to see if you were any closer to losing him than before. He’s just as close, and in the midst of your attempted glance, your foot catches on a rock. You cry out and tumble to the ground. Skin scrapes against the dirt and rocks beneath you.
He slows his pace to a simple walk, pulling the hunting knife from the sheath. The wide blade shimmers in the pale moonlight. He holds it up and drags a gloved fist over the silver, just like in the movies. Another, low laugh breaks through the speaker of the modulator.
“Too easy, princess,” he taunts, “Get up and keep running.”
Your eyes widen and blood rushes to the lower region of your body at the command. You stumble to your feet and stagger away. Your foot aches a little from the rock and the fall, but you continue in earnest.
He lets you go on for a while longer. Occasionally, he would intentionally fall behind, giving you the illusion that you could outrun him. But also filling you with the dread that you would be out in those woods alone.
Soon enough, he’s had enough of the chase. He speeds up and hooks his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the ground in a swift motion, whipping around your body so quickly that you could barely see it. He’s got one of his knees holding your dominant arm down while a hand holds the knife to your throat. You squirm and whimper under him, causing him to shake his head and make a noise of mock disappointment.
“Poor baby. You did all you could, didn’t you?” he coos menacingly, leaning down closer to your face, “Look at you. Out of breath, heart beating out of your chest. You tried so hard.”
He brings the knife up to your cheek and drags the tip across, not cutting you but letting you feel the cool metal on your soft skin. You whine and scrunch your face in discomfort, eliciting a cruel laugh from him. He drops the knife nearby and shakes his head.
“Not a fan of knives, sweet thing? Too scary?”
Next, you try recoiling from his touch, but he’s caging your body on the ground. The damp dirt presses against your back and smears on his clothing as he wrestles with you to keep you in place. Again, you can see how little effort it takes for him to keep you down. The display of strength has your heart beating harder with lust.
“Keep fighting me, little one. It’s my favorite part,” he breathes before shifting on top of you and roughly flipping you over.
Now, squirming only rubs your face into the soil beneath you. In this position, you can feel his hard cock against your ass. He reaches over for the knife again and brings it to the base of your spine. He uses his knee to hold down your arm again, so he can pull your skimpy top taut and slice through it with ease.
He handles you like a ragdoll and yanks it off. The knife falls to the ground again as he reaches around your body with both gloved hands to knead your breasts. You whimper at the harsh squeezes and rolls of his fingers. His face is right next to your head, and you can hear his ragged breathing under the mask.
He pinches and teases your nipples, your noises now becoming obviously pleasurable. A hand slides into your hair and grips the roots as he shoves your face to the ground. Your cheek is smooshed on the cool surface, and your lips part as your own breathing picks up. Your hips are still squirming, but now only to try and feel some friction with his dick.
“There we go. Such a little slut. Didn’t take much for you to give in. You know this is where you belong. Beneath me, stuffed full of my cock,” he groans.
His hands glide down your body, pulling your hips into place. He tugs your shorts and panties down to your knees, humming in satisfaction when he sees your dripping cunt. Two leather-covered fingers slide through your slick. They circle your puffy clit, drawing mewls from your throat. The fingers then dip inside you and pump in and out a few times. Your body shudders at the sensation.
“So fucking wet. You like this even more than I thought. So sick baby. My twisted little doll,” he teases.
He plants his free hand on the back of your neck and digs his fingers into the side of your throat. His other hand continues working your aching pussy, adding in another finger to your needy hole. You choke out a few moans as your breathing becomes more like panting.
“All this for just my fingers? Can’t imagine how you’re gonna cry on my cock. Maybe scream for me a few times,” he purrs.
After a bit more, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, shushing you when you whine in protest. You hear the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric being adjusted. It isn’t long before you feel the heat of his cock prodding your entrance. You shift your hips back, taking the tip in.
He grunts and his breath hitches as you clamp down on the sensitive head. Once he regains his composure, he slams his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with one thrust. You cry out and claw the dirt beneath you.
“You wanna be an impatient little bitch, I’m not gonna be gentle with you. If you’re so fucking needy that you can’t wait two seconds for my dick, I’ll treat you like the cockslut you are, sweetheart,” he says before beginning to rock his hips back and forth.
He finds a rhythm with ease. One of his hands gives your ass a few firm smacks while his other hand returns to your head to pull on your hair. The noise of your skin connecting sounds through the woods along with your whining. His grip on your hair is like a vise. The mild sting of the pull mixed with the rush of pleasure from him drilling into you brings some tears to your eyes.
“That’s right, fucking take it. This is what you were made for, sweet girl. Your body knows it,” he grunts as your walls flutter around him.
He smacks your ass again while getting more erratic with his thrusts. The hand in your hair returns to your hip to give him more leverage. His digits dig into your skin to the point of potential bruises. You whimper and moan, your head becoming cloudy while he stretches you out.
His quiet moans hit your ears and make your stomach erupt with butterflies. You tighten around his shaft. You were starting to work up a sweat despite the cool temperature of the air around you. You shudder and twitch, only causing him to hold you tighter.
Your back arches as more sinful noises pour from your lips. A particular thrust snaps something in you and breaks the dam that was holding in your tears. It felt like he was stroking deeper than ever before, and you just couldn’t hold it in. Warm drops stream from your eyes while your whimpering grows louder and less controlled.
“Are you crying, little love?” he coos, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. He starts rubbing your back with even, soothing strokes without stopping his thrusts, “Cry it out, sweetheart. It just feels too good, doesn’t it?”
“Y-yeah,” you whimper with a weak nod.
“Yes it does. I know, baby,” he says condescendingly. His gloved hand continues caressing your back while he snaps in and out. You grow louder still, whining and moaning through tears.
“Someone’s gonna hear you, doll,” he teases. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you’re past the point of being able to control your volume. “You’d probably get off on that though, you little freak.”
“N-no,” you stutter out in an attempt to defend yourself, but you’re cut off by your own gasps of pleasure.
“No? You wouldn’t cum on the spot if someone saw you like this? Taking my cock like the good little whore you are. Crying cause it’s just too much for you.”
You shake your head as best you can while being pressed against the ground. Your pussy clenches around him though from the description alone.
“Sure,” he chuckles before grunting, “Someone could be watching right now. It’s so fucking dark out here you wouldn’t even know.”
You can’t hide the thrill that gives you. A loud cry tears through you and your hips squirm within his grasp, trying to get you to that peak.
“Yeah, I know you like that,” he growls, leaning down and encasing you with his arms. The new angle lets him piston himself even deeper within you.
He keeps grinding himself into you as you both feel the coils of release getting closer to snapping. One of his arms snakes around your head, his bicep curling around your neck. The plastic front of the ghostface mask presses into the side of your head. He’s grunting and moaning into your ear, bringing you right to the edge.
“I feel it coming, honey. Let it go. Cream on my cock, baby girl. Give it all to me,” he mumbles.
With no reason to hold back, you let your release explode. You writhe in his hold, gasping and crying as euphoria floods your being. You bite your lip and tilt your head back to nuzzle and sloppily kiss at the mask.
He’s not far behind you. A few thrusts later, he’s draining himself in you, filling your insides with hot and sticky cum. His hips sputter and the mask becomes misaligned on his head as the two of you press against each other.
You’re both panting in the end. Leon pulls out and rolls off of you, landing on the ground next to you. You don’t move from your place in the dirt and just look over at him. He tugs off the mask and drops it near the knife. For the first time tonight, you see his charming smile and sweet eyes, a sharp contrast to the performance he just put on. He leans over and gives you a soft kiss as he adjusts the rest of his clothing.
You still don’t move from your position. He sits up and rubs your back again. His hands massage the muscles there for a moment before trailing down your leg. He gently lifts your foot and kisses your ankle.
“Your foot ok, baby?” he asks while rubbing your thigh. Even after all that, he hadn’t forgotten your fall earlier.
“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.
“Ok, good,” he says.
He starts to help you roll over so you can get up. He smiles at you, brushing some dirt off your cheek.
“Let’s get you home so we can shower,” he says and helps you pull your shorts back on as you sit up. He kisses your temple a few times and strokes your hair, “Then we can cuddle and watch some scary movies.”
That makes you crack a smile, and you kiss his lips.
“Let’s get home quick. It’s cold out here, and I don’t have a shirt anymore thanks to you,” you tease.
You rise to your feet and lean on him for support. He picks up the knife and mask as well as the scrap of cloth that was once your top. He offers it to you with a sheepish smile. You roll your eyes and shake your head.
“Guess, you’ll just have to stay close then,” he says and tucks you under his arm. He kisses the crown of your head before you two start walking back through the woods to your home together.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#resident evil imagines#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy imagine#resident evil smut#smut#ch: leon kennedy 💌
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/ book 7 spoilers
*politely grabs you by your shoulders* UEUEUEUJQKXNkxnsnnanzndnsmsmfmdmsmdm
hello... sorry... Leona rant... the guys theorizing that Kifaji stops Leona in his dream bc deeply he'd wish for someone to stop him... i think im going to cry. i wonder if him being such a bad king in his dream has to do with his own feelings- meaning he doesn't believe he'd be a good king? Idia explained that maybe Leona purposefully chose his dream to play out in a more realistic way, which would mean having consequences and such... even if it would be painful, he still went with it...
I think you had a post about this iirc, but this rlly pushes me to further believe that what Leona craves is valid recognition— people recognizing him for who he is and what he does, not idolizing him, just valuing him genuinely. I think there in reality he craves more that than the "king" title specifically— that's why the scene where Jack says that "he's not your (the shadows) king, he's our DORM LEADER" felt so special to me, bc Jack is doing exactly that. he's valuing him for being his dorm leader, a title Leona earned for himself. I think that ultimately that'd be more valuable for him than the king title itself, since one "is born" to fulfill that goal (and the whole reason he isn't king is because he was born second, again, things out of his control—) I think that's why this dream Leona isn't satisfied w having become king, bc at the end of the day he only got there bc Falena/Cheka died here. Some people theorize he pulled Scar tactics in the dream, but regardless of that, I don't think the "nature" of the position itself would satisfy his need to be seen, to be genuinely valued. BC WHAT HE CRAVES IS NOT *JUST* TO BE KING, IT'S TO BE RESPECTED FOR THE THINGS HE ACCOMPLISHED... also more proof that if he wants to help out in his country he needs to do it alongside Falena's ideals, bc apparently the only good thing his reign brought in his dream was... no more inflation 😭😭😭 which is good (guy who lives somewhere with too much inflation), but I mean... I think I'd prefer still having nature 😭😭😭
ALSO... and the way he SACRIFICES HIMSELF for Ruggie... AND THROWS HIMSELF TO THE DARKNESS... also his confrontation w his overblot feels much more... depressing? than the others'? ☹️ And and and... The line about him deciding the place he'll live in... ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ I'm in tears. Pls help.
and at the end he DID know he was dreaming, and he also suspected it before being 100% sure. so I guess our prediction was kind of right 😭
also UHM. THE OUTFIT??? AHHH URNWKDNFKSNSKSKKDKjfjwnnzdn sorry it's. the least important thing of what I wanted to say but he lOOKS SO PERFECT AHHH
[My full thoughts on the book 7 part 11 Leona update here!]
*is grabbed out of nowhere* 🧍♂️
NO BECAUSE I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING... dream!Kifaji is the only NPC/darkness in the dreams that didn't aggro and attack us 😭 In fact, he actively protects us and begs Leona to "wake up", continuously acting as the voice of reason the entire time... AND THEN SMILING AT THE END AND PRAISING "HIS KING" WHEN LEONA FINALLY FULLY WAKES UP... I feel like that definitely is not a happy coincidence. Deep down... some part of Leona's subconscious might have realized something was wrong, and maybe that manifested as Kifaji, the one person in his memories that could stand up to him. Not just because Kifaji is a stubborn old guy (although he is), not because he seems to be a competent mage, but because he must have been Leona's one and only friend and guardian growing up in the palace where the servants always shit talked him and compared him to his older brother. He raised Leona. He played with Leona. He encouraged Leona when his prince didn't believe in himself. He tried so hard to keep Leona from straying. He sees the goodness in Leona. He knows how intelligent Leona can be and how this can save their country. It makes total sense that Kifaji would be the form Leona's conscience assumes.
I feel like dream!Kifaji could also represent... that last shred of hope that Leona has for himself 💀 As late as book 6 of the main story, Leona states that Jamil isn't like him, hinting that while he believes Jamil has the capacity to change and be a better person, he doesn't have that same faith for himself. AND MAN, THAT SHIT WAS HEARTBREAKING OTL Then, entering his dream in book 7, we see just how deep that despair truly runs. Malleus promised everyone happy dreams, didn't he? And Leona has theoretically been given everything he has supposedly ever wanted. The crown, his kingdom, the power to enact all of the policies and laws he believes would benefit his people, wealth for his country, etc. But that has bled the country of its resources, made the people resent him--and he's still left bitter and unfulfilled, alone in the palace. This isn't what happiness truly looks like, but it sadly might be what Leona believes Sunset Savanna is destined for if he's left in charge of it. (Idia likens the dream to a sandbox game, and Leona, being the owner of it, decided to play it "realistically".) He can only become king if the rest of his family dies or goes missing. (This is even more morbid if you believe the headcanon that Leona committed fratricide and murdered/convinced Cheka to run away.) He'll achieve his goals, but at the cost of isolating himself and making himself a pariah. He and his people will starve to death. Everything he touches will crumble into sand. That's all he and his unique magic are good for, anyway. Destroying things, never creating or building them. AND HE STILL CONTINUES TO EXIST IN THIS WASTELAND, ACTING LIKE HE'S IN THE RIGHT AND LIVING IN DENIAL THAT ANY OF THIS IS HIS FAULT... while Kifaji, his conscience, his hope, is right there trying to get him to see reason.
Leona's dream was such a shock to see right after Jack and Ruggie's. The contrast between how he views himself and his rule vs how his dorm members see him and his rule is like NIGHT AND DAY. You got Jack here thinking of Leona as an upstanding and honorable dorm leader and team captain and Ruggie who dreams of a Leona who graduates and betters the lives of the entire country and the less fortunate by building schools and establishing magift/spelldrive clubs (which enhance Sunset Savanna's soft power). Then you have... whatever hellscape Leona has conjured up 😭 It's so sad that Leona pictured RUGGIE as being one of his most devoted haters too. Yeah, Ruggie sometimes complains about Leona running him ragged and how rich people have it easy compared to him, but Ruggie has never expressed this level of vitriol towards Leona before... yet in his own darn dream, Leona believes Ruggie would HATE him and try to overthrow him when that couldn’t be further from the truth. In Ruggie’s dream, he hasn’t even MET Leona before but still looks up to him for what he has accomplished and done to help the poor and the downtrodded 😭
I have mentioned before that I don't believe Leona needs to become an actual king in order to be happy (that post here!), and I think this most recent update proved my point. Jack points it out to us (in case we didn't already put together) that Leona is still miserable in spite of being gifted the crown and kingdom. Leona is still not satisfied. Even if he becomes king, he won't be satisfied. Even if he obtains everything he wants, he won't feel fulfilled. Never, ever, ever. AND THAT MAKES SENSE, because what Leona REALLY wanted all along wasn't the crown but the acknowledgement of his skills and talents... "proof" of his worth as an individual. I feel like the word "king" is thrown around a lot in regards to Leona, both in fandom and within his own dorm (Ruggie, Jack, etc. refer to him as their "king" quite often). However, it's not "king" that holds weight to Leona... it's everything that comes associated with the title. Respect, validation, love. These are all the things Leona got so little of as a child, which is why he fixates on them now. He has even expressed that he doesn't value the title of king if you didn't earn that title to begin with, which just goes to show that he wants to be able to prove himself and be seen for it. AND THE SAVANACLAW STUDENTS DO, AAAAAAAHHHAAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHhHhhhHhhhhh OTL JUST LIKE JACK SAID, HE'S THEIR DORM LEADER...
As dark as Leona's dream was, I appreciate it a lot for its realistic depiction of... Leona's worse tendencies... along with a potential future under his command. I often see people claiming that Leona would be a far better ruler for Sunset Savanna than Falena is. And to that, well... I'd say look at Leona's dream and some of the points brought up in it. I don't think his rule would be as terrible as what we see in the dream, HOWEVER. The dream mentions many shortcomings of Leona as a ruler, such as disregarding traditions and refusing to listen to advisors and input from the people. This would naturally make him unpopular with the country he serves, and it certainly doesn't help that he is not amicable either. These are only a few points I brought up in my extensive post comparing Leona and Falena's ruling styles, which I would highly recommend reading. I want to stress that I am in no way saying Leona would be a bad ruler. I believe that he and Falena compensate for each other's weaknesses. This is why I feel that the best solution isn't a blanket "X brother would be better than Y brother!", but rather that they should work as a team and make the best use of each other's strengths.
adfaiifvifiaef efoubfia LEONA SACRIFICING HIMSELF FOR RUGGIE I PRETTY MUCH SAW COMING 😭 Bro had to do something to make up for almost sanding him in book 2...
I really glossed over Leona's big confrontation with his Phantom in my initial reaction post, so I'd like to take the time to comment more on it here. A lot of what Leona tells his Phantom I felt was also the kind of advice he gave Jamil in book 6 (which only further reinforces the idea that he had hope for Jamil but not for himself). He dislikes people who complain about their situation but do nothing to change the circumstances... ALL TRUE OF BOTH HIM AND JAMIL. I think what makes Leona’s confrontation so different from the others we’ve seen so far is that while the others are more triumphant/telling the Phantoms how they’ve grown… Leona’s is sort of resigned? Like he still sees his negative traits (his pride, his underhandedness, etc.) and talks about how he has changed as a person but he also admits that this is his fault, that this bitterness and desire to be king will always remain will him. That’s fine—because Leona tells that darkness within himself that he’ll accept it too. (Jack does the same; his senpai are pretty awful but he chooses to accept them as they are.) I really loved that Leona swore to himself he’ll find his own throne and country… “Someday, for sure…!” It feels so hopeful after all that depressing stuff 😢 Reclaiming bis autonomy… Weh…………
asdbihabidbasdsa I still wish they had done a little more with Leona “knowing” it was a dream... Maybe making that "Kifaji is that part of Leona" more obvious or clearly stated because I feel like it could sail over people's heads? It might have also been interesting to see the blot try to suppress him like he's a feral beast that has to be kept under control 😔
DB SDABILASFIADFIAF tHAT DFUCKIBG SJHFBLADAD KING!L*ONa OUTFIT OTL TRHIS SI WHAT A MAN IN A SUIT IWiTH A HLAF CAPE THING AND SLICKED BACK HAIR DOES TO MEDFSKNLABIDBFIABIPEAFFQEIPYIBEUOF8TQEVOpfSBPsnjg 26871t9mg9qepgpeqomp9qvda bipivpada iegi THE EyE LOOK TOO ASDBLABSDSFIAFDI IT'S SCO CUn T Y AKJFHLBADGLBIHAGEIHGABIADGILBHWHICH IS REALLY WEIR FOR ME TO SAY ECUASE I USUALYL THINK THESE KINDS O EYE LOOKS ARE WAY TOO MUCH... . . ..... . . ........ . . .. . AnD TGE ExPOSED fOREHEADvv???!?!!!!!? HELLO ???!!!!!’mmcnNCCCVvV,cvvv???!!!!’nxhVahahshjwhzttTyqhwiau iTm anBEHGinG TO BE k!ssrd TOYcHEDF 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢
THIS RICH BITCH IS OVER HERE IN A FANCY SU i TS 4 GOLD NECKLACES AND 3 RINGS WHILE HIS PEOPLE STARVE??????? DAMN NO WONDER WHY THEY WANNA EAT TH E RICH.
Side note: a friend pointed out that Leona's coat is basically a reused Octavinelle dorm uniform asset and, after checking... yeah, it basically is 😭 NOT THAT THERE'S ANYHTING WRONG WIH THAT, I just find it ironic because (in my own pseudo-lore) it reads like him trying so hard to be like J word and get my attention 💀💀💀 I AM AFRAID HE ATE AND LEFT NOC RUBMSN....
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#jp spoilers#book 7 part 11 spoilers#Leona Kingscholar#book 2 spoilers#Ruggie Bucchi#Jack Howl#Jade Leech#Savanaclaw#Kifaji#Neji#NOT L*ONA ROT#notes from the writing raven#Falena Kingscholar#Cheka Kingscholar#Farena Kingscholar#Jamil Viper#book 6 spoilers
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Something I've been thinking about a lot lately is how elves are shown to handle grief and trauma and how that relates to Mithruns character.
The Canaries care for Mithrun is mostly well intentioned. They legitimately like him! But it is also kind of terrible at times? Most of their care is focused on the Bare Minimum that keeps him alive and his care and comfort isn't really considered because well...to them, he's not capable of understanding it anymore.
We know this because Kabru is assigned as his care taker and Lycion comments that his hair is shinier. This means even in the stressful survival situation of the dungeon with Kabrus terrible cooking and scavenged meals, he is physically healthier than he was with the canaries.
I think it's relevant Kabru was the one to care for Mithrun this way and the one eventually realize he can be capable of new desire because Kabru is intimately familiar with how elves treat trauma. Not only was he a traumatized child but I think the most important parallel here is actually Rin.
If you haven't read her section in the Adventurers Bible, Rin is also a sole survivor of a tragic event and was taken into elven custody. She is catatonic and deeply deeply traumatized. And the elves handle it *terribly*. She's treated as goods or as an animal and she's shown to be unresponsive and not able to speak. Her recovery is directly linked to her meeting Kabru when he's brought in to help her.
Rin and Mithrun are opposites in elven society. Rin is barely a person, Mithrun isn't only an elf, but a prestigious and wealthy one. But both are survivors of horrific circumstances that hurt their ability to care for themselves and perform daily activities. And for both, it's pretty clear that it was assumed that this would become their fixed state, one where care and gentleness was pointless, because they had lost the faculties to process it.
Anyway I guess I wonder if years later when Kabru hears Mithruns story and how his condition is incurable and thus denies him personhood he thought of his. I wonder how much more quickly Mithrun may have been able to adapt to his circumstances if he wasn't told he was "broken". To me at least, Mithrun was always able to react to new things and adapt, but if everyone in the world is acting like you're basically dead and unable to ever do anything than be a weapon again yeah why wouldn't you assume that. No, I don't think Mithrun will ever be back to his former self and have all his desires back but he is able to carve out space for himself so quickly with Kabru, compared to his extensive and leas effective initial recovery with the elves. Perhaps this too is an area where their lifespans hinder them as they assume 20 years is a totally normal recovery period so why would they need to try more.
#in which i make another very basic analysis of the text that basically restates the obvious 👍#anyway kabru is truly king of seeing through elven bullshit and understand just how infantalizing their society is towards others#i wonder if pattadol formed the dm support group after seeing mithruns time after kabru. food for thought i guess#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#mithrun#rinsha fana#rin dungeon meshi#kabru of utaya#dungeon meshi manga#have i tagged it enough to protect the anime onlys yet#just in case#cw medical abuse
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A Simple Misunderstanding
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader
Summary: Hughie might of overheard something he probably shouldn't have between you and Ben
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Cursing (9x), Fluff, Sexual Innuendos, Implied Drug Use, Soldier Boy (Yes, our macho man gets his own warning)
Authors Note: So, this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I've been going back and forth debating if I was going to post this or not. But once I gave the summary to @zepskies she said she was intrigued, so I said, "What the heck?" and now it's posted for your enjoyment | This is my first time writing for this universe so I hope I was able to do these characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
It was the middle of the night and Hughie couldn’t sleep. Although him and The Boys were in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors for miles, it surprised him how noisy everything could be. He had lived in New York City all his life; he was used to the noise. The bustling sounds of traffic, the occasional gunshot or stabbing, airplanes always flying overhead, or a supe destroying some vehicles while trying to catch a culprit. But the noises he heard were much different; it was the sounds of the crickets, droplets of water hitting an unwashed plate in the sink, and random incoherent whispering. The hustle and bustle of the city had become white noise to him.
Looking over at the clock it just struck 1:59am. He hadn’t been in bed long trying to sleep, only attempting to just a little past midnight. Since joining the group, it was unusual for him to actually get to bed at a normal time or even go to bed at all. He was used to going a day or two without sleep. Frenchie tempted him with some sort of drug to keep him going or an energy drink, MM would usually offer coffee which was the preferred method for Hughie. But at this point, the caffeine wasn’t working anymore, as he had started drinking it like water. Unhealthy for sure, but so was not sleeping for one, two, or three days straight.
This was the first time in a long time where everyone was actually sleeping, even Butcher. It was strange, because as long as Hughie had known him, he never once saw the man sleep. The closest he ever got was when he would get knocked out; but even then, that was kind of a rare occurrence.
Getting up from his bed he sat on the edge of it for a moment rubbing his face. He had wanted to stay in bed and keep trying to fall asleep, but he knew that there was no use. So he decided to implement a trick that he remembered his mother using when she couldn’t fall asleep or get back to sleep. When she had trouble falling asleep or getting back to sleep, she would do various things to occupy herself until she felt tired enough to try and sleep again. Her usual go-to’s were either reading in the living room or listening to Billy Joel quietly to herself. Once, Hughie remembered waking up in the middle of the night and had found her humming quietly to herself while she read a book in the living room. The only light came from a single table lamp next to her.
Leaving the bedroom he started making his way down the hall toward the living room where he decided to watch some TV. There would probably be nothing worth watching at this time; just infomercials about grills or some kind of cleaning agent that didn’t work. He really wasn’t picky about what he watched, he just wanted something to help him fall asleep.
As he walked down the hall, he heard faint whispering coming from one of the bedrooms. He thought that he had been the only one up - guess he was wrong. The room in which he heard the whispering coming from was Soldier Boy's room - something that he didn't find surprising in the slightest, as he was someone that actively fought sleep. "I've slept enough," he would say.
He started walking away, but didn't move far as he stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" That was your voice. What the Hell were you doing in his bedroom? And at this hour? Hughie thought to himself. He knew that the two of you were friends of some sort, as you were the only person that SB genuinely seemed to like and get along with, but for some reason, it didn't really occur to Hughie that you would be spending time with him this late into the night.
The next thing he heard was chuckling, chuckling from SB. "Trust me." The next sounds Hughie heard actually made his eyes go wide. It was the bedside drawer opening and closing just as quickly, the sound of some kind of plastic being opened, and then bed springs squeaking. The squeaking was so loud that he could only assume that it was the two of you moving in unison, not just one of you.
“Oh wow that’s…huge.” You commented, emphasizing the word ‘huge.’ Huge? Hughie thought. Gross.
Again, SB chuckled. “Never seen one so big Princess?” Princess?! Hughie was surprised he didn’t gag right then and there. Never did he ever want to hear SB say the word Princess, nor did he ever want to hear it in the context of it being used to describe you; his best friend since kindergarten.
“No, never.” You replied back, sounding as if you were embarrassed. “I mean, I’ve heard they can be that big but…” you trailed off.
So many emotions were taking over Hughie: but disgust was the main one. There were two things that his brain automatically came up with in this scenario. The first: barge into the room and stop you and Soldier Boy from having sex, the second: move far away as possible from the door and pretend this never happened. As much as he wanted to do the first option, he valued his life too much, didn't want to see Soldier Boy in all of his naked glory (once was enough when they were in Russia), nor did he want to be a cockblock for one of the oldest and most powerful supes in history. He knew, that being a cockblock would have been the very last thing he would do in life if he barged in. Option two it is, he thought to himself. With that decision, he never moved so quickly in his life.
The morning finally came and you were greeted by Ben having his arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath his chin. His embrace around you was tight, but not so tight that if you needed to move, you could (not that he would let you move any way, he was too comfortable). He's getting better at not crushing me when we cuddle, you couldn't help but think. The position the two of you were in was an intimate one, and it had become a somewhat regular occurrence over the past couple of weeks. It was something that you never thought would ever happen, especially when you first met him a few months ago.
Your relationship with Ben had drastically changed in the short amount of time that you had known him and took a complete 180. When you first met him, you were initially excited to meet him because you had watched all of his movies on repeat growing up as your father was a huge Soldier Boy fan - it was something the two of you had bonded over. But when you met him, he was far from how you envisioned him to be. He wasn't this all-American hero who stood up against injustice - he was a misogynistic racist asshole.
As time went on, Ben had somehow started to grow on you. Although there were still elements of him that radiated misogynism and racism, you gave him the benefit of the doubt when it came to certain things. How it wasn't entirely his fault, as he had spent 40 years essentially in isolation being tortured by the Russians; completely unaware of the massive changes that took place in the world. Once you had "remembered" that, and started spending more and more time with him, you had started to fall for him - and it happened relatively quick.
"Good morning." He said to you, his voice lazy as he kissed your bare shoulder.
"Good morning to you too." You replied back, pressing your back and ass closer into him.
"Your heart's beatin' a little fast there Princess." He smirked.
"It's just nice waking up like this, that's all." You said. "Well, you kissing my bare shoulder doesn't hurt either."
"You know, I can kiss other parts too." He said, keeping the smirk on his lips.
"Hmm, I know you can." You said, turning to face him. He leaned in and kissed you, a little surprised that he was the one that initiated. "Can I ask you something?"
You heard an annoyed sigh from him. "You're going to ask if I say no or not Sweetheart." He responded with his usual bluntness.
"Yeah you're right." You said. Ben couldn't help but slightly roll his eyes. "So my question," you began, turning to face him completely as you propped up your elbow on the pillow. "Why didn't you try and have sex with me last night?"
Ben looked at you with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "You're disappointed that I didn't try and fuck you?" He let out a small chuckle at your question.
"Honestly...Yeah. I mean, everyone was sleeping, and I know you want to. Plus, I barely had anything on." When you came to his room last night, you had purposely wore more revealing clothes in order to tempt him - a tank top and boy shorts.
"You wouldn't've been able to stay quiet." He began. "Although, it would have been fun to hear you attempting to be quiet and failing miserably." There was that smirk again.
"You don't know that." You said, your fingertips running up and down his bare arm.
"Y/N, trust me. You wouldn't have." His confidence was almost radiating arrogance.
"Is that a promise?" You asked. Your question more bold than you had intended it to sound.
"Oh, it most definitely is." He said. "I'll tell you what. We can test it out tonight." He leaned in, inches away from your face, moving a strand of lose hair that had fallen in front of your face.
"Promise?" You asked, your voice low, a little hesitant.
"I didn't stutter did I?"
"No Sir." You said, leaning in and kissing him again.
The smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air, glasses of orange juice on the table. MM and Frenchie making breakfast for everyone while Kimiko helped to set the table. Butcher sat on the barstool on the island in the kitchen, every once in a while taking a sip of coffee and reading the paper. Hughie walked into the kitchen and took a seat next to Butcher, his face looked like he had seen a ghost. Putting down the last plate, Kimiko looked at Hughie and walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He didn’t respond to her touch, which made her slightly frown with concern. Frenchie looked over at her and she signed something to him. “Petit Hughie, she wants to know what’s wrong.” Frenchie translated.
Hughie didn’t respond, he just sat there on the stool looking off into space. Frenchie waved his hand in front of Hughie’s face. “Petit Hughie?” Frenchie and MM exchanged looks, and Butcher put down the paper.
“Oi, lad.” He waved his hand in front of his face too. He looked over at MM and Frenchie. “I know what to do.” Without hesitation, Butcher slapped Hughie in the face, causing him to almost fall off the barstool.
Hughie started rubbing his cheek where Butcher had slapped him. "What the fuck was that for?"
"For being a creepy little shite and not saying anything when we're talkin' to ya." Butcher responded.
"I had uh, a rough night." Hughie said. He pointed at his cheek. "This isn't going to bruise is it?" He asked, Butcher rolled his eyes.
"Do you want me to make it bruise?" He asked, smirking.
"Good morning everyone!" You practically sang as you walked into the kitchen. Everyone besides Ben had been there, as he was still currently pre-occupied with taking a shower. Everyone was currently sitting at the dining room table, slowly taking bites of their breakfast. Every so often, they took glances at you before looking back down at their plate of food.
Sitting down at the table, you took your usual spot next to Hughie and gave him a quick smile, before taking your fork and started digging into your pancakes. "MM, Frenchie, did you guys make this?" You asked, already knowing the answer.
"Uh, yeah." MM responded, almost too quietly. It was a little strange to you how quietly he had responded, but at the same time, you didn't really think anything of it, as the last couple of days has been a little rough for everyone. Despite being in a safe house, you knew that MM was at least up some of the night making sure that all of you were actually safe. You weren't sure if it was because of the situation you all were in, his military background, his OCD, or a combination of the three.
After a few moments of silence Hughie finally spoke to you. "So, how did you uh, sleep?"
You took a sip of your orange juice before responding. "Pretty good actually. Best I've slept in quite a while." Which was true. "How about you?"
"Rough night." Hughie said, responding very quickly to your question, as if he already had his answered prepared.
You frowned at his answer. "I'm sorry. Nightmare? Couldn't sleep?"
"A little of both." He said.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, genuinely wanting to know.
"Ye-" Before he could finish his sentence, Ben walked into the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing a t-shirt that you had gotten him about a week ago. Without saying a single word, Ben took his usual spot next to you and started digging into the plate of food in front of him.
You cleared your throat and looked at him, which caused him to look at you. "What?" He asked, a mouth full of pancakes.
"Isn't there something you'd like to say?" You asked.
"Christ on a cross..." He mumbled, before looking up. "Morning." He said, forcing a smile before looking down at his plate again. "Happy?" He mumbled just low enough for only you to hear.
You smiled at him. "Very." You whispered back.
"The things I fucking do for you." He mumbled.
Hughie stood up very abruptly, the utensils and plates shaking a bit. This abruptness had caused everyone to look at him (except for Ben, who didn't even seemed bothered in the slightest). "You know what, I'm just going to come out and say it." His voice confident.
"We know you're gay." Ben said, very nonchalantly, still not looking up. "It's uh, good for you." He looked up now, focusing his attention on Hughie. "Be proud or...whatever." He finished, flashing him a forced smile. Ben then turned toward his attention to you, looking for some kind of approval from you regarding what he just said. Trying to adjust to the modern age was hard for him, but he was thankful that you were there to help him navigate things.
"What? I-I'm not gay. For the last time, I'm with Annie." Hughie said, trying his best to defend himself.
"I've been told that's called a beard." Ben took another bite out of his pancakes, and your hand automatically went to his thigh, giving it a small squeeze. It was your way of basically telling him to stop talking. He looked at your hand before looking at you again. "What?"
You turned your attention to your friend. "Hughie, what did you want to say?"
"Okay. I'm just going to come out and say it. Ask it. Whatever!" His voice sounding insanely flustered. "Did you guys fuck last night?"
You felt your eyes go wide, your fingernails digging into Ben's pants. You didn't know what to say, you were speechless. "What's it to you?" Ben asked, not even seeming to be remotely fazed by Hughie's question.
"Because she's my friend." Hughie responded. He knew that his response wasn't good enough.
"Okay, and?" Ben gave him a confused look, unsure of what Hughie's point even was. "I'll repeat, what's it to you? Y/N doesn't ask every time you blow Butcher."
"Again, I'm not gay." Hughie said, his voice sounding defeated.
"Whatever. Point is, she doesn't fucking ask. So why are you asking?" You couldn't help but agree with Ben, who seemed to be very reasonable in his questioning for once.
Hughie looked at Ben and you, and then looked at the rest of the group - all of them staring at him, waiting for him to say something. "Because..." he tried to find the right words. "Because you two are the reason why I couldn't sleep last night!" You and Ben exchanged looks, not understanding. The two of you focused your attention on him. Before either you or Ben could say anything, Hughie started talking again. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He looked at you. "Never seen one so big?" He looked at Ben. "You're even wearing his fucking shirt!" Hughie pointed to the shirt you were wearing.
You looked down at your shirt before looking at Hughie again. "I always wear Ben's shirts." You stated.
"No, you don't actually!" Hughie's voice was starting to sound so frantic now.
"She looks damn good in them though." Ben commented, taking yours and his empty plate to the sink.
"Hughie, I can assure you. Me and him didn't have sex last night." You said, really trying your best to reassure your friend, even though - to Ben's point - it wasn't remotely his business anyway.
"We will tonight though." Ben said, his voice calm as it has been throughout this entire exchange.
"They didn't need to know that." You pinched the bridge of your nose. You weren't embarrassed that Ben said that, but it was something that you didn't think he needed to add to the conversation.
"Sure they did. I mean, your friend here seems interested." Ben walked over back to the table, placing two mugs of coffee before sitting back down next to you again.
"For the love of..." You mumbled. "We smoked a blunt last night! There! Happy?" Your voice was the one that sounded frantic now, with a small hint of annoyance added.
"You guys...smoked...a blunt?" Hughie felt his cheeks heating up, embarrassed by this whole exchange now. "So you guys weren't talking about the size of his -"
"Hughie you better not finish that fucking sentence I swear to God." MM said, his voice sounding as if he had lost all of his patience already for the day, and it wasn't even nine in the morning yet.
“Ben and I were talking and I had mentioned that I’ve never smoked a blunt before, or have done any kind of drugs so he offered to let me try it. That’s it.” There was much more to the conversation, but you didn't feel like adding anything else. The rest of the gang didn't need to know that you and Ben were planning on going some place far away from New York when all was said and done.
"You never smoked a blunt before? I'm shocked." Butcher stated. "Swear you have." For as long as he had known you (which was quite a while now, as you joined The Boys about a year before Lamplighter had killed Mallory's grandkids), he could have sworn up and down that you were on some kind of drugs, but he never could put his finger on it. He thought about asking you of course, but he always decided against it.
"It's shocking I know." You shrugged. "I guess it's never appealed to me."
"Well it's a good thing you're with Mister Coke Head over here." Butcher said, adding a little chuckle at the end.
"Just because we're together doesn't mean I'm gonna start doing drugs with him Butcher." You defended.
"She'll be too busy doing other things." Ben smirked, before winking at you.
Tag List: @jackles010378 @zepskies If you want to be added to a tag list, let me know!
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys#the boys imagine#the boys one shot#ben x you#ben x reader#reader insert#female reader#the boys amazon
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Hi! If you’re still looking to answer questions I have one that I think about every time I listen to your music.
Your stuff is so unique and imaginative from a creative standpoint, and it always makes me wonder: do you draw inspiration from yourself or from other stories/media that you love? Or a mix of both? Or neither? I’m just really curious about your conceptual process I guess? Especially with how cool your mvs are as well.
Sorry for all the question marks lol, and if that’s too personal I totally get it! I was just curious since I saw so many people sending asks. (Also, I just got my going, going, gone anniversary tshirt and it’s quickly become one of my favorites so thanks for that too! Haha)
hello hello! 👋🏾
ooooooooooooohhh a nice variety of question marks, I like it! I'm a musician, nothing's TOO personal 😅 (I might regret saying that later)
I say that I draw inspo from everything! Film, TV, other ppl's music, magazines, any type of media!
For example, I just watched this movie called The Love Witch and I lowkey wanna make a album SOLELY based on that film cause it was maaaaaaaaaaaad interesting anywaysssss
I also feel like coming from a biology background, there were so many instances where things would get realllllllllyyyyyy boring studying, reading, etc.) I HAD to find some sort of escape (ie: music) to rejuvenate myself!
But also, I don't actively think too deep on concepts! It's not that I don't care, I just try to write the song the way the song wants to be written! Basically I start kind of talking to myself, and something usually comes up!
If anything, I spend most of my song-making time researching synonyms or rhymes 😭
Same with MVs! Luckily, I get a lot of help in that area, though! (Collaboration is important!)
ty sm for purchasing a shirt! I'm so glad you like it! And thank you for the questions again (NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR THESE TYPES OF THINGS LOL 😂)
-🔒👕🩵
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what’s yours is mine (12/?)
previous masterlist next
pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru
You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.
What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)
“The plan goes this way—“ Suguru’s finger taps against the wrapping paper upon your brand new desk, smoothing against the surface Mama had skillfully wrapped over it to somehow, in her own words;
“Makes the surface last longer.”
(You kinda get it. It keeps it looking ‘new’, you know? Who doesn’t like new things?
Wait— You think you were supposed to be listening.)
Your shoulder brushes against Geto’s as you stare on thoughtfully, even when pressed this close against him, even when repeating his words over and over again inside your little head and even as your heart starts beating a little too fast for your own liking.
(Getting nerves right before the start of this impromptu mission is never good. Being afraid is never good.)
“Are you okay?”
You snap out momentarily to hear a voice close to your ear, his breath cool from the melting bowl of ice cream nearby as his fingers graze over your own, purple eyes alight with a gentle worry.
“I-“ You don’t really know. “I’m good.”
Just nervous, you guess. He needs to continue talking so that you have this plan memorized to a T. Needs to keep talking so that your brain stops running all over the place.
“Say something if you get lost, okay?”
If. If? If… So many ‘ifs’ could happen. Too many for you to relax, too many for you to panic about and far too much for you to suck it up and go in blind.
“Since Mijou-san’s home isn’t too far from where Satoru and I will be hiding, we should be able to keep track of you even when you’re inside.” A finger points at the crudely drawn image of a girl, her home an even more scrawled out looking box with purple crayon streaks jutting out to represent the cursed energy activity.
“And then all ya gotta do is get in there and exorcise it!” A snowy head pokes itself inbetween the shoulders that were pressed against each other, his chin settling on them as you hear Suguru click his tongue just as an arm winds around your own.
“It’ll be,” His hand slams confidently down against the table, shaking it with its sheer triumph. “Your 1st ever unofficial mission!”
(You can even see the small fangs peeking out whenever he grins. Looks like being an Alpha didn’t come with accelerated puberty, even if he was the Gojo Satoru.
You’re happy he at least remains cute. At least that’s not an ‘if’.)
“Shouldn’t we be— Um, telling Kimiko-san?” Because she is literally the only trusted adult you know who will actually make sense of the Jujutsu system and… Exorcism.
(You’re not nervous, you swear you’re not.)
Suguru perks up. “I did think about it and— Mmf!“
“Nope!” Gojo Satoru even leans into you, his hand pressed backwards and muffling poor Suguru’s face as Satoru’s nose nearly brushing against your own from his close proximity. “Suguru’s last plan sucks!”
He stares you down with those far too familiar, far too unblinking eyes of his. “I scoped out the area after ya told me about it, and the cursed energy was like—“
His index and thumb squish together, leaving a minuscule space barely even caught by your now squinted eyes, before it teasingly reaches out to tap against your nose.
“Satoru, if you would just let me talk, you dam—“
“Thissss much! So y’er good cause it’s obviously small fry anyway!” Because no way will the likes of that annoying girl have any sort of major curse.
You stare into his eyes. Blink once, twice. Maybe thrice. And maybe, it’s the way Gojo Satoru looked so excitable, looked so confident that has you tottering over your mind.
(Because you don’t really think you believe in yourself.)
“But…” You take another breath in as you pat his cheek. “What if I fail?”
Like that time with that quiz you thought you would pass; studying all night only to barely even be able to understand next day’s questions. Or maybe even that time where you thought playing volleyball was going to be a piece of cake—
“Pahh! That second time was cause ya weren’t good enou—“
Before a fist unceremoniously lands upon your cute friend’s head, bonking him and making his knees buckle and crash to the soft carpeted ground of your living room.
“Ow!” It didn’t exactly do much damage. “What gives, dummy?! Ya didn’t have to hit so hard!”
“You need to stop watching your words, Satoru.” Suguru’s brows are furrowed and irritated, eyes narrowed and turned into a glare. “I told you so many times.”
“What?! (name) doesn’t mind!” And he’s grappling onto your legs from the floor, his arms wrapped around them in a hug as you nearly stumble— Barely catching yourself by using his fluffy head of hair for balance.
You think you can hear them arguing. Think you can feel your heart racing as you stare into space. And definitely think you might have a chance to finish up the remaining ice cream since they’re so preoccupied with arguing.
You hope it goes exactly as planned.
——
“Oh… It’s just you?” Mijou Kana looks almost disappointed when you arrive at her gate, dressed in your most formal-casual-smart-appropriately cute outfit that you had mulled over for far too long before arriving here.
Who doesn’t want to make a good impression? Especially when you’re at another person’s house for the very first time.
“Why’re ya even takin’ so long to decide?” Gojo Satoru is thoroughly unamused as you comb through the clothes in your closet, his feet kicked up in the air as he lays on your hastily rolled out futon, his hair slightly damp from taking a shower and his eyes glaring at your form.
(You’re starting to think he’s treating your home as his own now.)
“Ya don’t even dress up ta see me or Suguru.” He’s frowning, pouting and every word that can describe his face in one emotion; Annoyed.
(You’ve seen how many ‘guests’ have hurriedly patted down their hair, dusted off their expensive clothes and powder their noses with exquisite looking makeup on the rare occasion that you visit the Gojo household.
He turned them all away anyway. That must mean that Satoru prefers casual clothing more than anything, right? You’ll make sure to try to whisper it to one of them next time.)
“Because you already like me, right?” You don’t need to impress him, you think. It’s said soft enough to carry over to his ears, in a tone so delicate and sweet—
All because that was how you always talked to him.
So you turn, a plain looking shirt in your hands as you show it off to him. This should be considered ‘nice’ to him, right? It isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but having his approval would definitely help build confidence.
“What about this one—“
You can’t see him. Not when he has already hurriedly pulled your soft blankets over his head, your eyes catching a glimpse of red just before he had fully taken refuge inside as it twitches.
Looks like you won’t be getting an answer.
“You tried inviting the others, right?” She’s slightly pensive, a bit rushed in her words; and definitely looked agitated. Like she was expecting more of you, like you disappointed her.
(Technically, they are here. Not so far away and watching you intently.)
“Mhm. Satoru had…” You take a deep breath in. “A violin… Competition. Shoko didn’t feel like coming and Suguru hates yo— Going into new neighborhoods because his mother thinks they’re bad luck.”
(Lying isn’t exactly your strongest forte.)
“Oh.” Her eyes look off into the side, briefly flashing onto the ground and back onto you. Even as her gaze pinned onto you— It didn’t feel like she was quite looking at you at all. “I see.”
Mijou Kana was always quite the strange girl to you. Always so friendly, so generous with her smiles… Yet she always feels so far away. You never really could tell what she was thinking about.
Do you regard her as a friend? No— Not really.
Do you think she’s a nice girl? Definitely.
Do you want to help her with the curse? Yes. Of course.
(That’s why you’re here, aren’t you?)
The outside of her kind of big home is nice, you think. All pretty and tidy and new looking, metal fences coated with a perfect shine, the paint on the house perfect— Not at all chipping. So picturesque, so pretty.
What a nice place she lives in.
But the inside was plainer, more rough. As if all the budget had gone into maintaining the outward appearance of this mini mansion— And totally foregoing the interior.
(Not exactly cozy, but it’s still very nice. Satoru would probably call this poverty, though.)
“Kana.” Her tone is rough when it calls for Mijou’s first name, throaty and coughed out as if it was raw and hoarse. As if she had had something terrible for her voice not too long ago—
“Who is that?”
(Cigarettes smell bad. Your Papa smells like this too.)
“M-Mother, I told you we had a guest today…” You hear something clink as the woman stumbles over herself, the neck of a bottle clenched tightly in her hand— As it clangs against the wall, just shy of breaking as you blink in confusion.
(Certainly. This isn’t right etiquette for having guests over, you’re pretty sure. Saya-chan would rank this pretty high on an ‘inappropriate’ tier list.)
It doesn’t shatter, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. No, not at all. Past the bottles of empty wine bottles and aluminum beer cans, past the shadowy interior and dimly lit hallways—
Cursed energy pools.
“I made a friend, Mother. Just like you asked—“ She drags you closer, pulling you by the sleeve and presenting you, yet her body was positioned behind— And almost as if she was using you as a physical shield.
You felt it before you even saw it. You’re no Gojo Satoru, not even a lick close to the amount of sheer talent Geto Suguru has— But Satoru was right about the amount.
(Maybe only a little bit off? It feels like it’s increasing.)
You blink. Your fingers twitch and your heart quivers. That’s a human, right? Mijou Kana was confirmed to be unable to see them, unable to wield cursed energy. So—
What exactly are you looking at right now?
No curse, no grotesque creature slithering around her mother, no looming shadow on the ground the hovered near.
No physical form.
Therefore, it was not something you can exorcise— Not without getting rid of the source. Not without harming the humans you were meant to protect.
Because it was simply… Her. Dark energy emanates from the woman herself, brimming and overflowing as you take in her drunken and haggard appearance.
(You can’t even see her face anymore— So darkened by her own aura that it hid her human form.)
It’s scary. Daunting. Heavy. It makes you feel helpless, makes you feel scared.
You know how curses are made. Stemming from the negative emotions of humans, taking form from the accumulation of hate, of regret and disgust and animosity.
Curses are the bad ones. Curses are the ones that bring humans sadness and grief.
(So getting rid of the Curses means helping the Humans, right?)
“But she’s not any of the ones I told you about, right?” She looks annoyed, gruff and— Scary. So overcome by the shadows of her cursed energy as it swallows her and makes your eyes swirl. “So uneducated that she can’t even greet me properly.”
(How exactly do you exorcise this?)
“N-no, but she’s—“
“Tell your little,” Her stare pins onto you, lips curled into a sneer that you can’t see as if to mock your very existence. “Friend to prattle along if they’re already done.” Her stance was clumsy and sloppy, as if her feet were walking in the same direction— At the same time.
“We don’t need other poor vermin in this house.” It’s spat out. So vile, mean, rude and goes against everything that you thought mothers were.
She’s so cruel.
She stumbles again, her arm gruffly pushing past your shoulder as your own cursed energy responds in tandem, sparking against the area she had brushed just as she yells—
Skin on skin contact. Trying to exorcise her energy… Would just harm her.
“Fuck!” And she shoots her eyes towards you, glaring deeply as she loses her grip on the glass bottle. “Fucking brats…”
It shatters, yet she pays no attention— Stumbling up the stairs and off to her bedroom.
“Make sure to clean that up, Kana!”
“…yes, Mother.” She’s despondent, staring at her feet and the worn out rug beneath her— Trailing slightly to the broken pieces of glass that she is now responsible for as you spot her hands unclench and her shoulders sagging downwards.
“I guess you weren’t enough at all.” It’s muttered quietly, said so softly that you barely even catch it.
(Oh. You suppose you weren’t any help.)
Awkward silence swallows you both whole. Just the slight crinkling of glass against the wooden floors, and Mijou-san clearing her throat.
“Do you… Still want to stay, (last name)-chan?” There’s a smile so stiff on her face, her eyes upturned into tight squints that told— Begged you to say no.
Mijou Kana was a strange girl, after all— Someone that never let her true intentions show through her words. Yet, you think you kinda get what Suguru means when he says that she’s;
“Trying too hard to hide something too evident.”
(It must be painful. Why can’t she just be honest?)
“No—“ Don’t hesitate. “No, thank you. I forgot I had homework to do.”
“Oh right!” She claps her hands together, beaming that empty, empty smile that never seemed the way it looked. “The one Futari-sensei gave right? I thought I reminded you about that!”
(She didn’t.)
“Yea.” It’s better to just agree.
And as she walks you to the door, you can only think about how curses aren’t the only bad things in the world. Your eyes look back, following the thin slither of shadows up the staircase as you blink.
(You feel… Bad.)
You hope that energy manifests a physical curse. Something that you can exorcise, something that you can get rid of.
(You can’t let her live forever like that.)
Yet, as Mijou Kana waves you goodbye with that smile of hers and shuts the door just as you turn around; You just can’t help but feel that some people are simply miserable because they can’t help it.
(Mission failure.)
——
You’re 14 when you’re wiping down the blackboard, specks of chalk dust falling onto your hair and your slight coughs into the mask you were donning— At least you’re almost done.
It’s unfortunate that Mijou decided to skip out on cleaning duty. It must’ve affected her too much.
“It’s cute, isn’t it, Ieiri-san?” The keychain jingles as the girl awkwardly tries to keep conversation with the infamous Ieiri Shoko.
(Infamous for her looks! The pretty, blank-faced and blunt Ieiri Shoko! A simple remark from her would possibly end with you collapsing to your knees—)
“Could you,” A flick of her hair back as autumn-brown eyes dismiss the girl with an emotion you can’t quite explain, a blank, empty look in her eyes as she removes her lollipop. “Stop talking to me?”
It must’ve been quite the blow to poor Mijou-san. You pat your own hair, trying to shake off chalk dust and any remnants of dirt that had gotten onto you.
It’s not easy trying to accomplish a 2 person job with only half the manpower.
“Do you need help?” Your ears perk up just as you nearly trip over yourself from holding the too heavy bucket—
Geto Suguru.
“I just got back from the temple.” His hand brushes over his ears, tapping lightly against the black gauge earrings and tucking a stray strand of his hair back as he smiles.
You stare. Maybe for a bit too long, your eyes concentrated on the way he just looked so, so pretty— Before your sight gets covered by his hand waving over your eyes.
“Thank you.” It’s said with a prettier chuckle, amused and with a blush so pleasant upon his skin.
(You think you’re going to embarrass yourself one day. Curse your mouth that runs without you noticing.)
You don’t even notice that he’s already gotten hold of your wrist, slipping a simple black string bracelet around it as
“The school allows simple accessories,” His touch lingers, warm and gentle against you as his purple eyes trail upwards. “We don’t have to worry about getting in trouble.”
Oh.
“I don’t think I’m that plain.” You pout, obviously disheartened by the implication and letting the very obvious simply fly over your head. “Shoko thinks—“
And Suguru only laughs. Wholeheartedly. Cutely.
“I think you’re pretty with or without accessories.” A pat to your head. “But because I gave this one to you,” A tap against your wrist.
“You’re extra pretty.” And a smile to soothe your heart.
Always so charming, always so— It makes him not want to say it. As expected of Geto Suguru, much to a certain person’s chagrin. Because it’s impossible for someone to be that appealing, right? It’s too pretentious, too— Full of shit.
“Hmph.” And Gojo Satoru looks dissatisfied, his cheeks stuffed to the brim with sweet, sticky red bean mochi as he chews.
Angrily.
He shouldn’t be, you know? A similar bracelet sits on his own wrist, a version that exactly matched yours. If he placed them together they’d be identical, would be the perfect pair that matched the studs on Suguru’s ears. Yet, even as he watches the both of you in front of him, busily writing away and studying…
Why does he feel like he’s lost somehow?
Was it the way you always look so fond of the little trinket? He’s bought you entire clothes before, you know? He doesn’t see you ogle them like crazy, doesn’t see you give him anything more of a—
“It looks nice today too, right, Satoru?” With your attentive eyes waiting on him to say something, say anything at all whilst dressed in the plainest, most boring thing he’s ever seen in his life.
He thinks you can’t be serious, as cute as you do look, that he needs to get Kimi-chan to get you prettier things, that you seriously have something wrong with your hea—
“Ya look okay.”
“(name),” His elbow is now on the coffee table, his hand propping his chin up as his stare pins onto you specifically. “Fix my hair.”
And you do so— Without even looking up from the passage you were trying to read, the wrist donning Suguru’s gift reaching towards Satoru— Before it’s grabbed out of the air and the sound of a metal clasp takes you by surprise.
A new bracelet. Shiny, compact, surprisingly extremely light— And very expensive looking.
“Hmph.” It’s satisfied, smug. As if he’s seen something that couldn’t get any better than this as he makes hasty final adjustments, throwing your wrist about as you’re unceremoniously tugged forward unwillingly.
“Wha—?” You haven’t exactly processed everything yet.
A hum, an annoyed, almost exasperated sigh from a certain black-haired friend as he pauses to watch the situation and Gojo Satoru’s triumphant words.
“Mine definitely looks better, right, Suguru?”
——
“Mama,” Your hands stop peeling the potatoes, its brown skin brushing against your arm as you stare blankly at it. “What’s your type?”
And she pauses. Just for a moment, just for that tiny little bit.
“Someone who can peel the potatoes evenly.” There’s even a small giggle tacked on at the end of it, as if she couldn’t hold the same monotone throughout the entirety of the sentence.
And you blush— Embarrassed. It’s not everyday that your own Mama makes fun of your potato peeling.
(And…! To be fair this was a new potato peeler! The tools of the future certainly seek to hinder your progress— As Saya-chan says, over engineering will only lead to more stress.)
“But to answer you,” A thoughtless hum as she gently continues to chop up the mushrooms. “I have no preference.”
It’s only the next line that gets you thinking.
“Humans are all… Different, after all.” So nonchalant, so passive. If it were any other person, they’d do a double take. If it were any other person, they’d be confused; especially with that odd tone of voice.
(But you’re you.)
“Then I think you’re the best one.” She’s gotta be, right? Who else would take the mantle if not her?
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
So basically, from this conversation… She wouldn’t approve of anyone you’d bring home.
(“My ideal type?” Ito Saya has her hands gingerly placed on her cheek, a thoughtful look on her face before she lets a sweet smile take over, coupled with a cute laugh to boot.
“Somebody my mother likes!”)
Saya-chan and dating. 2 words you’d never thought you would ever live to hear. She’s your idol, your bias, your one and only— Could you really handle her giving all her cute fanservice to someone else?
“Then… What kind of person would you want me to date, Mama?” It’s rhetorical. It’s not like you have anyone in mind, lest Saya-chan came to your home and gave you the privilege of proposing to her.
But it’d be interesting to know. Just because. It’s definitely not because Mijou-san asked. Not at all.
(“You don’t even have a type, (last name)-chan?” Her eyes still have that same faraway look, her face in that neutral, almost blank smile that you’ve come to get so used to.
“You’re kinda boring. Don’t you ever have your own opinion?”)
There’s no hesitation this time in your Mama’s reply, no other words needed— As if she had had already came prepared long before you even thought about it.
“Someone sincere.”
“What does that even mean?” You’re both 15 when Ieiri Shoko is laying back on your futon, all regards for the ‘proper, ladylike’ image gone without a trace as her shirt flips up and her shorts ride up her hips.
Summer is hot, after all.
“Maybe someone like Saya-chan’s boyfriend?” You’re lying next to her, sweaty hands lazily entangled with each other as you stare up at the ceiling.
(“Isn’t she in some dating scandal right now?”
“She doesn’t deserve it…! My Saya-chan deserves to date and marry whoever she wants to find happiness!”)
There’s a silence in-between the both of you. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s not awkward. It’s just there because the both of you allow it. A chime of your brand new phone breaks it, disrupts that thin barrier of laziness that overtook your laziness as you reach for it.
“Is it Geto?” And she knows simply because she has never seen you text or call anyone other than 4 specific people; inclusive of herself.
“Mhm. Suguru wants to come over.”
She stays silent, not even moving to adjust her clothes as she lets the breeze of your fan flow through her hair.
“Tell him to bring ice cream if he wants to.” She can just imagine the boy spotting your slightly open window, watching as your curtains shifted ever so slightly in the summer breeze. A thought would probably pass through him, 1 that would make him pick up his cellphone, his eyes never leaving that ajar window.
“Ah— But you already made Satoru buy them.” She did. It was cheeky, was just a surefire way for her to get something out of him.
(Because if he even wanted an invite to hang out with you on the day she had personally ‘reserved’, he better listen close and listen well.)
“Make ‘em bring extra.” She pushes herself up slightly. “It’s gonna be tax for daring to disturb us.”
That makes enough sense, you think. A whole lot of sense, and not because this sweltering weather is making you crave too many cold things.
“Oi.” Not too long passes when he’s already made his way in, not at all mindful of manners as your door opens to reveal— A not at all sweating Gojo Satoru.
(Infinity, he says. Must be nice to have free sunscreen and UV light reflector. Your Mama would love that.)
His socked feet pad against your floor, stopping just shy of the futon he’s all too familiar with as the plastic bag he carried rustling with its familiar contents.
“I didn’t know what Shoko liked so I just bought whatever.” Maybe it’s the 1st time you notice just how tall he’s gotten in these short years. Especially when he’s towering over you, crossing his arms and watching you intently— As if he was expecting you to say something.
(…did you do something wrong?)
“Satoru.” There’s a smile on your face, saying his name with that familiar softness. There’s a quaint, polite look in your eye and an innocent tilt of your head. “Did you buy your favourite too?”
(You’re kind of craving that super deluxe, ultra premium choco-vanilla-strawberry swirl.)
And he frowns. Quickly. Immediately. As if it soured his whole mood and as if he hated your response.
“Is that all I get after going through all that trouble?” He’s huffing, before plopping down onto your soft floor before you, crossing his legs and grumbling, his posture slouched over and his lips in a pout.
Ah.
So your hand reaches up, gently brushing away locks of pure, snowy white as you press the back of your hand against soft— Pleasantly non-sweaty skin.
(His skin is so nice.)
“It must’ve been hot, right?” You hope he didn’t get heatstroke. Not that he even could, but it didn’t hurt to check.
And blue eyes just stay extremely locked onto you. A sound caught in his throat that makes you worry slightly just as you’re about to pull back.
“It was!” His ears are reddening as you nod along, listening intently as you use your hand to fan his face.
(It really must be hot outside. He’s burning up.)
“It was soooooo hot out there!” His cheeks can’t help but heat up as you continue to brush back locks of white— All in cute efforts to let him cool off more.
(Does he need a fever patch? It’s quite worrying to see him like this.)
“I could barely even stand it, ya know?” He’s hoping you pick up an ice cream bar and feed it to hi—
“Are you both done flirting yet?” Ieiri Shoko is thoroughly unimpressed as she bites off another chunk of the GariGari-kun. It’s only slightly chilly, only that little bit biting. Yet, if you were to ask her;
She’s only slightly bothered by it.
“The ice cream’s melting.”
And when Geto Suguru’s knocking on your bedroom door, his head politely poking in— He’s only met with one prodding question.
“Oiiii! Suguru!” An arm wraps around his shoulder, pressing all of its weight onto him as it threatened to drag him down to your bedroom floor— To have a face full of your carpet, that is.
“What’s your type?”
And there’s only a twitch of his hand, his smile barely staying on his face before Gojo’s hand was grabbed, barely even activating Infinity in time before the entirety of his body was flipped over Geto’s shoulder and onto the floor.
(“Cheater.”
“More like y’er too slow.”)
So he finds himself here. On your floor, sitting just in front of you as you pull at his face and awe at his fangs. Your fingers are poking around at the sharp objects, and his cheek twitches from soreness.
You really need to stop asking for things with your pleading eyes. It’s hard for him to deny them.
“And you’ve grown really tall, too…” Your hand pokes at his hard arm. “Did Kimi-chan give you both some sort of cursed energy imbued potion to make you both so big?”
“If she did, we’d give both you and Shoko some,” There’s even a gruff huff as Satoru rolls his head onto your shoulder. “Ya both need it real bad.”
(“Saya-chan’s boyfriend is pretty big and tall, too… Do I need to drink more milk?”
“Ah. Isn’t the guy she’s dating some sort of athlete?” Suguru’s words kind of sting when they interrupt your train of thought.
Tall. Big. An outstanding athlete.
You’ve lost.)
“I’ll never be able to date Saya-chan…”
previous masterlist next
nvy’s aftertalk:
i’m trying my best to make it romantic ok :(. pls reblog since tumblr doesn’t like showing my work in tags :(
#jjk x reader#satosugu x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader
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If I could save time in a bottle...
summary: [Platonic Logan Howlett x gn!reader/ famillial dynamics} After the passing of your parent figure some years ago, your friend Wade comes back from a deadly mission with a replica of him. You also soon learn that someone that is definitely not Wade has something to do with the mess that is currently the resting place of that loved one. Finally, you and the ‘worst’ Wolverine find you are on the road to healing together.
wc: 3.4k
warnings: angst and comfort, grief, strong language, brief mention of child death (in worst! Logan's universe), spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine as well as Logan (2017), the bye bye bye scene is treated as grave desecration (which i mean,it is… but reader is naturally gonna see nothing humorous about it)
a/n: This is a bit of a mess because I never write, yet I have so many feelings and thoughts I had to do something with them. Not having seen a platonic fic of this kind anywhere I guess I had to make one. Also..I did some basic research on the general deadpool canon yet..I’m not entirely informed, having not watched deadpool 2… let’s hope for the best
--------------
You used to be the youngest student in the X mansion back in the day, just a child having mutated under life altering circumstances, the usual.
It was Logan who found you. He was your rock during and after the traumatizing event of your mutation, taking you in and placing you in the arms of the X-men and thanks to him they became your family.
You saw him no less than as a father. Despite his brooding, harsh exterior it was never difficult for you to see that he cared.
He never shot you down when you knocked on his door in the middle of the night, sobbing after another brutal nightmare. He took you seriously when you talked about your fears and worries. He saved you and helped you stand on your feet more times than you could count.
Seeing death and bad things happen to your family of mutants always hurt viciously but when Logan died it felt like something you would never get over.
With your abilities generally under control, you chose to avoid actively partaking in X men work (Not that you refused your assistance, if someone called for you specifically. It had better be very urgent though.)
So you tried to find a rhythm of what resembled a normal life for the most part, a decent job and some good friends. That was what he would have wanted, no, said he wanted for you.
You kept ties with Laura too, having bonded over your shared grief, the man having died in her arms after all. She was some years younger than you and you were happy to consider her a good friend, the younger sibling type.
Some years ago she had disappeared, causing you yet another source of anxiety. Turns out she herself had been banished to the Void. The relief you felt when Wade came back from that limbo hell while managing to bring her back too, was immense. You have never hugged anyone tighter than Laura the day you saw her again.
Speaking of Wade, through this and that, you had also become acquaintances. He had needed your assistance when he was forming his X force crew and you had hesitantly accepted, making it clear that this would be an one-time thing.
He seemed to be a "Wolverine fanboy" in his own words which caused him to bombard you with childish questions about him until you very firmly made him aware of your boundaries. There was a time and place to talk about Logan.
When that shitshow was over with, you did not mind him considering you your friend. Sure, he was a bit much for you, not a huge fan of his 'humor' but seeing him in moderation was not unpleasant…Alright, maybe you did enjoy his company and friendship, it was as simple as that.
After a chat with him, you learned that the rent in his apartment building was relatively cheap for New York standards, so when it was time to move out of your previous place, that was where you went.
Then the damn timeline thing happened. You were pretty confused as to how exactly the events played out, not being involved, thankfully. But the crazy fucker did it, he saved the universe from extinction apparently. And not exactly by himself.
Logan was there. Not your Logan but apparently a variant of him was necessary to pull the mission off.
And now that version of him was Wade's roommate. Great. Perfect. Definitely something easy for you to process in the days to come.
--------------
You first saw them after the mission on your way to catch a cab to the airport. It was that time of the trimester when you were to visit him. Bleak yet you longed to see him and speak to him, even if he was resting under the earth.
Wade had the decency to explain everything to you once it was decided that Logan’s variant would be staying. He knew that you never really stopped grieving and you appreciated the warning that basically an almost exact replica of your dead father figure would now roam around your earth.
Almost exact, because according to Wade, this Logan was more of a dick, more crude and erratic, apparently rendered by his extra layers of grief and hatred. Partially understandable but you would not accept that as an excuse if he said something cruel in front of you, you would probably introduce him to your interesting mutative abilities. You let Wade know so that he could warn mr stick-up-his-ass. Wade more than happy to accept, still assured you that with the life or death mission being over, Logan was attempting to be more approachable.
The feelings this new reality brewed in you were..mixed, to say the least.
You made eye contact with Wade from across the street and of course he shot up from the bench he was sitting on, dropping his half eaten sandwich to the ground, moving his arms vigorously in the air, catching not only your attention but any other passerby's.
Even though your stomach turned at having to face the him, you wanted to check up on Wade after all this madness he went through. And on his friend as well, you supposed.
You looked both ways before passing the street and before you knew it, Wade’s arms wrapped around your neck. You patted his back with one hand, unable to help the choking sounds that left you.
“It’s so good to see you, my little honey pumpkin bear!” He squealed excitedly while squeezing the dear life out of you. He really thought he’d never see his friends again, huh.
“Oof, yeah Wade, it’s really nice to see you too, please just-” You broke free of his hold and held an arm’s distance between the two of you. You patted his arm and gave him a small but genuine smile. “Really glad you’re ok. Not that I expected anything le-”
Your words slowly died out when your gaze met Logan’s. He was sitting on the bench observing the interaction silently. He looked just like you remembered him, minus some differences. Well, obviously he was supposed to be the same person yet..he was not.
He looked up at you, brows furrowed while his eyes scanned through your face before flashing with what seemed like recognition (Not that you knew what it was he was seeing) He seemed tense and his mouth gaped before he turned his attention to the ground.
Wade naturally noticed the uncomfortable tension between the two of you and he decided to chime in quickly.
“Ah, yes this is the Wolverine I had to kidnap to help me with the time ripper bullshit and oh boy, did he deliver!”
You kept your eyes on the Variant, forcing yourself into a polite smile (that resembled more of an awkward line) and you extended your hand to him, causing him to lift his gaze at you again.
“Nice to meet you...Logan. Thank you for your help with unscrewing our timeline” You said as pleasantly as you could and he took your hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking it with a gentle firm and a silent nod.
His presence..It made your stomach turn. Feeling the threat of your vision getting watery, you quickly averted your gaze away from the two, as subtle as you could manage.
“I..Wade, m’ sorry, would love to sit a bit more but I have to go-”
“Hey wait, tomorrow we’ll be having a get-together to celebrate the un-fuckery of the universe, a partEy if you will! Everyone will be there, Al will be making that terrible casserole you really like also!”
You gave him a melancholic smile, genuinely sad you would not be able to attend. Logan’s variant was back to looking at the ground.
“Ah, I’m sorry, I won’t make it, I’m afraid. I’m going to the airport right now actually, will be off for the next three days. Gotta see someone..”
“Ooooh” Wade whistled while wiggling his brows “and is that someone maybe a super hot sexy mysterious boyfriend? Or girlfriend? Or theyfriend? Or-”
“Heh, nope. Nothing like that unfortunately.”
“Sure, sure, keep your secrets, you ankle biter, but promise to pass by the apartment once you’re back, we gotta catch up!”
You nodded. “Of course. See you then.”
Two days later you found yourself back in New York in a rush, in front of Wade’s apartment door, ready to invent a way that would actually exterminate him.
--------------
Nothing prepared you for the mess you saw in what was supposed to be Logan’s resting place.
The snow had ceased completely. With a simple look his grave was undug and the makeshift X was missing. When you approached, the little fresh snow that had fallen last night was covering various types of debris. Some type of fight had taken place and someone had collected the bodies in a rush yet they did not bother with what you spotted after closer inspection and some digging with your hands.
Metallic looking appendages…These were…
You looked inside the open grave. The snow had barely covered the remains in there and it was obvious they were not even half of what they were supposed to be.
You suppressed the violent urge to vomit. Someone had taken him out, violated his remains and as if in a haste, threw them back in.
You dug through the snow with bare hands around the grave. A fragment here. A fragment there. The spine. What was left of the cranium. White hot rage.
You called Laura with shaking hands. Offended would be an understatement for how she sounded, as well, unaware of who could have possibly caused this. Why were you even calling her, poor girl was in the void for a while now, what could she possibly do or know?
You hung up with the intention of looking through the situation a bit more and catching her up later.
While trying to stay calm and focusing all your mental energy on collecting, wiping and gently placing the remains back in the hole, it clicked.
Wade.
From the few words you two had exchanged ever since he was back, you gathered he turned every stone to find “a Wolverine” to assist him. Yet you could not imagine what the everloving fuck would he defile your Wolverine’s grave for and what caused him to spread his bones all over like fucking confetti.
You would not stand for this. Just because Wade saved the stupid timeline, he did not automatically become immune to the most extraordinary ass whooping of the century. If he had something to do with this, you would not forgive him easily, if at all
--------------
After taking a deep breath, you rang the bell. Tapping your foot on the ground, you heard some mumbling and shuffling before the door opened.
Wade made a surprised expression that resembled a caricature.
“Sweet baby cakes! You're back already? Come on in, I was just thinking about starting a gossip girl marathon. Again!”
Wade's cheerful expression fell almost immediately when you stayed still for a moment too long, not responding.
Althea did not seem to be home. Good.
Wade's expression morphed into one of concern.
“Pumpkin, is everything-”
“Wade. Guess where I just came back from.”
You took a slow step forward, dropping you backpack to the floor.
“Erm..a male stripclub full of hot babes?”
“North Dakota.”
“Don't you say! Did North Dakota had any good male strip-” He stopped himself before realization hit him. “And..may I ask..what was it you were doing in North-”
“You know very well what.”
Wade put his hands in front of him defensively and closed the door. “Hey Pumpkin, why don't you just sit so that we can-”
“Shut. Up.” You whispered.
“When I got to his grave, someone had completely messed it up. Signs of fighting around. Do you happen to have anything to do with that?” You said in a dangerously low voice, eyes glued on him.
Wade, whose mouth formed into an awkward line, clearly not having a reasonably enough excuse to give you.
“Er, you see, um remember when I was looking for a Logan, well I started my search with the OG, you know, just to make sure he was dead dead and unfortunately he was and um then you see err the TVA showed up and um-”
He stopped when you put your hands on your face, squeezing it while a muffled screech of rage escaped you.
“You motherfucking, with no semblance of decency, insensitive prick. You defiled Logan's remains and used them as a shield, throwing them around like toys? And you have the nerve to come back home and look me in the eye after the fact? To look Laura in the eye? Do you not have any fucking shame? Am I simply an afterthought to you?”
Silence. You could not see through the tears. With shaky hands you pulled out of your pocket a tiny clothed item and you carefully unwrapped the cover to reveal a small metallic fragment.
“You may think everything's a fucking game but that man was my family, and worst part is you know this very damn well! How dare you!”
“You have every right to be angry, just let me-”
You grabbed the first object you could reach, which was a half empty bottle of liquor and threw it across the room, causing it to smash angrily on the wall of the living room. Wade winced slightly before groaning in frustration.
With that, a bedroom shot open and an alarmed Logan variant made an appearance, claws already out.
“What the fuck is hap-”
He stopped in his tracks seeing it was just you. He probably had already heard your yelling earlier yet it did not answer any questions about what was going on.
“What the hell, kid?” he said with a subtle hint of alarm.
You take a step towards him, looking up at his face, paying no mind to his blades that were now retreating back inside. God, how it hurt to stare right into his features. Feeling a wave of nausea, you picked up your bag and turned your back to the two men.
“Wait, can't we just talk about this?” Wade said
“No, you ruined my week enough” You mumbled bitterly before exiting his apartment. Week, more like, year.
--------------
The roof of the building was pretty nice, you always preferred it when you wanted some time to yourself outside the walls of your apartment. You rarely ever saw any other tenant there, especially in the late afternoons.
This is where you found yourself that night, elbows supported on the railing, observing the busy street from above while sipping on bad beer.
How you wished he was there right now. How you wished for one more simple moment with him, where you could just be in his presence once again, chat about nonsense or simply sit in comfortable silence next to him.
What would he think of you as the person you were trying to become? Would he be proud of you?
How you wished he would put his hand on your shoulder comfortingly right now.
You missed him. So much.
A high pitched creak came from the direction of the heavy door behind you, causing you to jump a little and instinctively wipe the fresh tears that you just then realized were running down your face.
“Sorry, kid, did I scare you? They mustn't have oiled this door in fucking ever..” There was Logan, the new one. Whatever entity was reading your thoughts a moment prior must be finding your misery hilarious.
“Hope I’m not bothering you”
“No, no. I don’t own the rooftop..” You mumbled softly, turning your attention back on the street, trying to ignore the feeling of clear tension he brought with him. You swore to God, if he was about to make a crass comment..
He came to stand next to you, mimicking the position of your elbows on the railing. He himself was holding a glass, filled with one most likely alcoholic liquid.
“That asshole told me everything about the grave thing. If I were you, I would have torn him apart.”
“I’m sure you already know this isn’t possible by any means”
Logan huffed. “Oh, believe me, I do. I’ve tried at least three times”
You gave a noncommittal nod, trying not to focus too much the gruff voice you always found so comforting.
“...You know..You existed in my timeline too” He mumbled before gulping a generous sip of his drink.
That made you look up at him, surprised. “I…did?”
“Oh, yes you did. Lively little brat you were.” He said with a laugh you could only describe as melancholic. He said it like it hurt.
“You went through so much for a child. And you did cry quite often ‘cause of it, yet you were still so..” He seized, taking a heavy breath and emptying his glass. “So full of life. A good kid.” The city lights reflecting on his eyes, making it easier for you to see how watery they were.
“I..assume I…”
You were interrupted by another one of those devastating low laughs that made your heart ache.
“Yeah. You were among them. Those fuckers did not even spare a fucking child. I was the one who got you with the X-men and it ended in..” He hissed through his teeth and half closed mouth. He took a moment to collect himself and breathed out.
“I’m so sorry, Logan.” You whispered genuinely. You didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t be, …sorry, didn't mean to make it about myself.”
“You didn’t, really!”
A moment of awkward silence before you decided to share your piece.
“My Logan, er, you..I suppose it’s more or less the same as it was in your world but..you were like a…You were the closest I ever felt to a parent. I grew up because of you and..yeah, when I was around 17, you died.” It was almost funny how much you oversimplified those statements but it was the best you could manage at the given moment.
He nodded, listening intently.
“I’m sure that..If he saw how you grew into who you are today, doing your own thing, in spite of the mutation shit and all…he wouldn’t change a thing about how all these fucking events went down..”
“You..think so?”
He chuckled, giving you a small smile, tired but genuine.
“Hell, I know so.” he said. You could tell. You could tell that he desperately wished this was how the events played out in his own world, with the other you alive and a bright future ahead of them.
You hesitated for a moment, not sure if what you were about to say would be too much for him. Then again, it was him who approached you with this vulnerable conversation.
“For what it's worth I would… they would want you to keep on living. Not forget them, not at all. Just..be. Be a person. Make friends and..live.”
He looked you in the eye for a second, before averting your gaze and looking anywhere but you. This was hard for him. But he was trying.
He patted your back firmly. “Thanks, kid.” It was a very simple thing you told him yet you could not possibly know what it meant to him.
You thought that maybe you got what you wished for. Not exactly and certainly not ideally. But you and this Logan had something in common. Maybe, you could help and comfort each other in a way nobody else possibly could.
“Y’ know..I'm glad you got to stay, Logan.”
A smile. “I'm glad to be here, kiddo.”
A pause.
“How long do you think I should make Wade do my laundry for? Y'know. For retribution?”
“Oh, six months at least, bub..”
You stayed for a couple hours chatting above the restless city, topics including but not limited to work, university and acquaintances.
Your pain was soothed a tiny bit and you hoped Logan's was too. You had a lot of time ahead of you to work on that further, after all.
#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine x reader#platonic!reader#logan howlett x reader#worst!wolverine x reader#worst!wolverine#x men
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