#i should try pushing forward with chapter 5 soon

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1943 - wounds and whispers

chapter summary: After an attack on the battlefield, Logan wakes up to you as his nurse in Italy during World War 2.

word count: 8.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this one is short, and the ending is a bit abrupt, but i kind of wanted it to be that way- war is unpredictable. also, the ending is a tad bit different from the other endings, you'll see when you read! anyways, next chapter is when things get a little bit more interesting...

warnings/tags: mentions of injuries, fluff, angst, war, character death(s)

series masterlist - chapter 3 → chapter 5

A mere 43 years later and Logan was already in his second war since you died that last time. Part of him almost wished that he could die, maybe then he’d see you and get to hold you forever. But that just wasn’t in the cards for him; not when he had this healing, not when he was already 111 years old.

Logan's mind was swimming in a fog of pain as consciousness crept back in. The last thing he remembered was the deafening blast of gunfire and the sharp, searing pain that tore through his side as he charged forward in the midst of the chaos. War was hell, and he’d been through more than enough of them to know that. But this—this felt different.

His eyes fluttered open, the bright lights overhead blinding him for a moment as he groaned, trying to push himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, his entire body feeling like it had been torn apart and put back together again.

“Easy there, soldier.”

The voice was soft but firm, and it froze him in place. Logan’s heart skipped a beat, recognition flooding through him even though he knew it wasn’t possible. His vision focused, and then he saw you. Standing right over him, your face illuminated by the dim lights of the field hospital.

It was you.

Logan’s breath hitched, his mind spinning. He’d seen you die—he’d held you in his arms not long before everything faded. The memory of that night, the pain in your eyes, the blood pooling beneath you—it was burned into him. He’d lost you again. But now here you were, alive, standing in front of him like nothing had ever happened.

His throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak. “Y/N?” You probably didn’t hear him, given the quiet tone of his voice.

You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, your hands working with practiced care to check his wounds. “You’re lucky, you know,” you said, ignoring the way he looked at you, as if he'd seen a ghost. “The shrapnel didn’t hit anything vital. You’ll live.”

Logan swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. He felt a pull, the same pull he’d felt every time he met you in a different life. But this time, it hurt even more. Because this was the first time he’d seen you since the last time you died, and now, here you were, again, as if the universe had decided to toy with him once more.

“Y/N…” he whispered again, his voice rough with emotion.

You glanced at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. “How do you know my name?”

Logan hesitated, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell you—not yet. Not about the lives you’d lived before, not about the times he’d watched you die. He had to keep it together. You didn’t remember him, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

He cleared his throat, managing a tight smile. “Lucky guess,” he said, his voice strained, trying to mask the tidal wave of emotion crashing through him.

You gave him a curious look but didn’t press further. “Well, lucky or not, you should be more careful out there,” you said, turning your attention back to bandaging him up. “You’re not invincible, even if you act like it.”

Logan nearly chuckled at that. If only you knew. But instead, he gritted his teeth as you finished patching him up. The pain from the wound was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He’d spent so many lifetimes with you, always losing you too soon. Always feeling like there wasn’t enough time.

And now, here you were again, standing so close to him, your hands gentle as you worked. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with memories of you—of your smile, your laugh, the way you’d always found him, no matter the time or place.

But this wasn’t the past. This was 1943, and you didn’t know him. He had to play it cool, keep his distance, even though every instinct in him was screaming to reach out and hold you, to make sure you didn’t slip away again.

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.

You gave him a small nod, satisfied with your work. “Well, you’re still not cleared to leave yet, so you’re not gonna get away from me that easily.” You grabbed a small flashlight from your pocket and leaned in a little closer, shining it into his eyes to check his pupils.

Logan grunted, feeling the warmth of your proximity. It was almost unbearable how familiar you felt, even though you didn’t know him—at least not in this lifetime. His eyes followed your movements, the way you focused on him like he was just another soldier you had to patch up. But to him, you were everything.

“You know,” you started, your voice calm but a little teasing, “you really shouldn’t be throwing yourself into the line of fire like that. Kinda hard for us to patch you up if you don’t have any parts left.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, though his heart wasn’t in it. “I’ll heal,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His voice was rougher than usual, like the words were struggling to get past the weight of seeing you again, alive and breathing.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Heal, huh? Well, you’re not invincible, soldier. Trust me, I’ve seen men think they’re untouchable, and they don’t last long in a place like this.”

Logan looked away, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of your voice. He didn’t want to make this harder on himself than it already was. “Guess I’ll just have to be more careful, then.”

You chuckled softly, finishing your check-up and tucking the flashlight back into your pocket. “Yeah, you do that.” There was a hint of amusement in your tone, but you were still clearly all business. “Now,” you looked at a clipboard in your hands, “James, you have a different name you’d like to go by?”

Logan grunted, his gaze fixed on you. The name ‘James’ felt foreign now, like a remnant of a past he didn't quite belong to anymore. His eyes flickered to the clipboard, then back to your face. The memories of every life you'd lived flashed through his mind, each one ending the same way, with you slipping away from him.

“Logan,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than he intended.

You looked up, scribbling something down. “Logan, huh?” You nodded, writing it down. “Suits you better than James… I think.”

Logan gave a small grunt, a mix of acknowledgment and the emotions he was keeping buried. He couldn’t tell you how much it hurt hearing you say his name, knowing you didn’t remember him at all. Every time he heard your voice, it was like a punch to the gut—a reminder that no matter how many times you came back, he was always starting over, and you… you were always slipping away.

“Glad you approve,” Logan muttered, his eyes drifting away from you. He was trying hard not to stare, trying not to let the overwhelming rush of memories take over. You looked the same, almost exactly as you had the last time—before George pulled that damn trigger.

You didn’t seem to notice the tension radiating from him, too focused on the task at hand. “Well, Logan,” you said, setting the clipboard aside. “You’ll need to stay here for observation, at least for the night. Make sure your body’s handling the recovery properly. We’ve seen some soldiers who think they’re fine, and then—” You made a gesture, mimicking someone fainting, a half-smile tugging at your lips.

Logan’s eyes flicked to the floor, suppressing the mix of emotions threatening to boil over. That small smile—the one you always had, no matter how many lives you lived—was painfully familiar. Each time, the same softness, the same warmth. But this time, it cut deeper because he knew how this would end. You’d be gone. Again.

“You’re real good at this, aren’t ya?” Logan said, his voice low, trying to sound casual despite the weight of everything between you two, or at least, everything he carried alone.

You shrugged, your smile widening just a little. “I’ve had a lot of practice lately. War isn’t exactly kind to anyone.” Your eyes softened for a moment, like you were remembering someone, but you shook it off, standing straighter. “But, yeah. It’s what I do.”

Logan’s jaw tightened as he fought the urge to tell you everything, to scream at the universe for pulling you into his life only to tear you away. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had to play along, had to act like this was the first time he’d ever met you.

He nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Guess we’re both used to it, then. War and all.”

You glanced at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Yeah?” There was a pause as you sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “You seem… different from the other soldiers I’ve patched up. Seen a lot, huh?”

Logan leaned back slightly, his hand brushing against the place where the ring still rested in his pocket. He hadn’t taken it out in years. “More than you’d believe.”

There was a quiet moment between you, your gaze lingering on him as if trying to figure him out. “Well,” you said, breaking the silence, “let’s hope you don’t add anything else to that list while you’re here.”

Logan couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that escaped his throat. If only you knew what was on that list already. If only he could tell you how many times he’d seen you die, how many times he’d watched your life slip through his fingers. But instead, he just nodded again.

“I’ll try,” he muttered, though the words felt hollow.

As you stood up, preparing to check on the next patient, you paused, glancing back at him. There was something in your eyes, something almost familiar. But then, you smiled again—kind, unaware of the history Logan held with you—and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Logan exhaled slowly, the ache in his chest growing heavier. He had to stay strong, had to keep his distance. But deep down, he knew he was already caught, already tangled in the same painful cycle.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the engagement ring he’d never had the chance to give you.

Maybe this time, he thought. Maybe this time, you’d survive.

But Logan knew better than to hope.

---

You checked in with one of the doctors when Sandra, your friend and fellow nurse, put a hand on your shoulder and turned you to face her.

“Does he have a nice voice?”

You snorted, shaking your head at Sandra. "A nice voice? That’s what you want to ask?”

Sandra grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. “Well, I saw the way you were looking at him. Thought maybe he had some mysterious, deep, soldier-thing going on.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a clipboard from the nearby desk. “He’s just a patient, Sandra.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Sandra leaned in, lowering her voice. “You didn’t exactly hurry out of that room.”

You shot her a look. “I was doing my job.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, clearly not buying it. “So... does he?”

You sighed, unable to stop a small smile from creeping onto your face. “Yeah, okay. Maybe a little. He’s got that gruff, low thing going on.”

“I knew it!” Sandra nudged your shoulder, her expression smug. “You’re into the mysterious types.”

“Oh, come on,” you muttered, flipping through the papers on your clipboard, though none of it really held your focus. Your mind drifted back to Logan’s face—his eyes, the way he carried himself like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. There was something about him, something that felt... familiar. But you brushed it off. That wasn’t possible.

“I’m not into anyone,” you said quickly, snapping back to reality. “Especially not a guy I’ve known for like five minutes.”

Sandra raised her hands in surrender, smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” But the teasing gleam in her eyes suggested she wasn’t done with the subject.

You gave her a half-hearted glare before heading off to check on another patient. But as much as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. The way his voice had this gravelly edge to it, how it felt like he was holding something back every time he spoke. And then there was the way he looked at you—like he recognized you, like you were someone important.

But that couldn’t be right.

---

You came to check on Logan later that night before you’d head back to your quarters for some rest. The makeshift hospital was quieter now, just a few murmurs from patients in the distance. Your shift had been long, draining, but something about checking on Logan felt... different.

You pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. Logan was sitting up on the bed, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was tense, like he was carrying the weight of more than just a few injuries.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked softly, keeping your tone professional despite the strange pull you felt toward him.

Logan looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment that seemed to stretch longer than it should. “Better. You know, thanks to you.”

You gave a small smile, stepping closer to the bed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his gaze drifting back to the floor. “Still, you’re good at it.”

There was that same heaviness in his voice, like he was holding back more than just gratitude. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something about him felt... familiar. It was strange, like you knew him somehow, but you brushed the thought away.

“You should get some rest,” you said, checking the bandage on his side. Your fingertips lingered on the spot where the bloody wound had been earlier, but there was nothing—just smooth skin, as if it had never been there at all. Your brow furrowed, lips parting slightly in disbelief. You’d seen the gash when they’d brought him in, deep and ugly, impossible to heal so quickly.

Logan’s muscles tensed under your touch, and when you glanced at him, his expression was guarded, like he was bracing for something.

"That’s... impossible," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It was bad earlier. There should at least be... a scar."

Logan shrugged, trying to act indifferent, but the movement was stiff. "Guess I got lucky."

You pulled your hand back slowly, still frowning. “Lucky doesn’t cover it. I’ve never seen anyone heal like that.” You tilted your head, curiosity edging into your voice. “How?”

His jaw tightened. "It happens."

“That’s not much of an answer.” Your arms crossed over your chest, and the edge in your tone softened just a bit. “You’ve got to admit it’s... weird.”

Logan gave you a look, one that made you feel like he was sizing you up, trying to figure out how much he could say. Or maybe how little. "Weird, yeah," he muttered, voice low. "Not much I can do about it, though."

You knew a deflection when you heard one, but you let it go—for now. You weren’t sure why you felt compelled to trust him, but there was something in his eyes, in the way he spoke, that made it impossible not to.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, you shook your head with a faint smile. "Well, however it happened, you’re lucky I didn’t call the doctors in to see this miracle." You gave him a teasing look. “You’d be their new favorite science project.”

A ghost of a grin tugged at the corner of Logan’s mouth, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I’d rather avoid that."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. There was something strangely easy about being near him, like you’d known each other for years. You glanced at his hands—rough, calloused, like they’d seen more battles than you could imagine—and wondered just how much he’d been through.

"Why do I feel like there’s more to you than you’re letting on?" you asked softly.

Logan’s gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. "You ever meet someone and feel like you’ve known ’em before?"

His words struck a nerve, sending a chill down your spine. You swallowed, the strange familiarity between you two suddenly harder to ignore. "Yeah... I guess I have."

Logan nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. He rubbed his thumb against the curve of his knuckle—a nervous habit, maybe. Or just old memories surfacing.

"You should get some rest," you said quietly, almost reluctantly. It felt wrong to leave, like there was more to say, even if you didn’t know what.

"I’m not good at rest," Logan admitted, voice low.

You gave a soft laugh. "No one is these days."

As you stood up, Logan’s hand moved slightly—just enough that the tips of his fingers brushed yours, barely a touch but enough to make your heart skip. You looked down at him, surprised by how natural it felt, like you’d been standing this close to him a thousand times before.

For a moment, it seemed like Logan might say something—something important. His hand hovered near his pocket, where a small, heavy object pressed against the fabric. But then he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as if he’d changed his mind at the last second.

"Goodnight," you whispered, your voice softer than before.

Logan gave you a short nod, but his eyes followed you as you stepped away, like he was memorizing the moment—like it might slip away from him if he looked away for even a second.

---

The next morning, when you went to check on Logan, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, buttoning up his shirt over his white beater.

“Hey—wait.” You stepped in front of Logan, your hands instinctively finding his forearm as he finished buttoning his shirt. “You’re not cleared to leave yet.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, something passed between you—like the echo of a memory, distant but familiar. He gave you a half-smile, the kind that looked more like a grimace, and kept working on the last button.

“Gotta go,” he muttered. “Don’t do well sittin’ still.”

You crossed your arms, not budging. “Doesn’t mean you get to walk out of here half-healed.”

His gaze darkened, jaw clenching as if biting back words. You could tell he didn’t like being told what to do, but there was something more in his expression—something haunted, buried beneath that tough exterior.

“You think I can’t handle it?” he asked, voice low, gravelly.

“It’s not about what you can handle.” Your eyes softened, a hint of frustration slipping through. “It’s about what’s smart. I’ve patched up enough soldiers to know that leavin’ too soon isn’t.”

Logan’s lips twitched, like he might argue, but then he stilled, studying you with a strange intensity. The weight of his stare made your breath hitch for a second, but you refused to back down.

“Stay,” you insisted. “At least for another day. Let the wound close properly.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, like it was more trouble than it was worth to argue with you. “You always this stubborn?”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah. Part of the charm.”

Logan huffed, a reluctant laugh buried somewhere in the sound. He leaned forward slightly, his knees brushing yours where you stood between his legs. The air felt heavier—charged with something neither of you could quite name.

“Y/N...” The way your name left his mouth was different. Familiar, almost reverent, like he was tasting the sound of it after a long time.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “What?”

Logan’s hand drifted toward his pocket, hesitating just for a beat. He seemed to think better of it and instead leaned back, propping himself on his palms like he was trying to keep his distance.

“Nothing.” His tone was gruff, evasive, but you knew there was more he wasn’t saying.

You stayed where you were, close enough to feel the warmth of him. “You’re not really going to leave, are you?”

Logan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Shouldn’t stick around too long.”

“Why not?”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustrated. “I just shouldn’t.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, like they carried the weight of something unsaid—something important. But before you could push further, Logan shifted on the bed, brushing past you as if putting space between you would make it easier.

“Look...” His voice softened just slightly, almost apologetic. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I’ve been through worse.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you have to go through this alone.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, the walls he kept up seemed to crack, just a little. He looked at you like you were someone he wanted to hold onto, but couldn’t—like you’d slip through his fingers if he let himself get too close.

You leaned in just a bit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let me help, Logan.”

The way his name fell from your lips sent a flicker of something through him—something dangerous, vulnerable, like it meant too much. His breath hitched, and for a second, you thought he might tell you whatever he was holding back.

But instead, he gave you a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You already have.”

It felt like the conversation was teetering on the edge of something, but neither of you were ready to tip it over just yet.

“You win,” he muttered finally, his tone rough but resigned. “I’ll stay... one more day.”

You grinned, victorious. “Good. I’ll hold you to that. Maybe I’ll even let ya accompany me to the mess tent for lunch.” You held up a finger, playful but firm. “But only if you’re good.”

Logan gave a soft huff, the closest thing to a laugh you’d gotten out of him all day. “You makin’ the rules now?”

“That’s right,” you said with a smirk. “I am the nurse, after all.”

He shook his head, amused despite himself. “Fair enough.”

You lingered a moment longer than necessary, and Logan didn’t move away. His hand twitched near his knee, like he was thinking about reaching for you. It wasn’t the kind of gesture that strangers made—it felt too familiar, too intimate, like muscle memory.

“See ya at lunch, then,” you murmured, trying to shake off the strange pull toward him.

Logan gave a small nod, but his gaze stayed on you as you turned toward the door. Just as you reached it, you glanced back over your shoulder.

“You better not sneak out while I’m gone,” you teased, though part of you wasn’t sure it was really a joke.

Logan’s lips quirked at the corner, but the look in his eyes was heavy, weighed down with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

---

By the time lunch rolled around, you were half-expecting Logan to be gone—off on some stubborn mission to leave the hospital before you could stop him. But when you returned, there he was, sitting up on the bed and rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his forearms.

"Kept my end of the bargain," he said, giving you a crooked grin that was more shadow than smile.

“Guess that means you earned lunch.” You gestured toward the door, and Logan pushed himself off the bed with an ease that didn’t match the severity of the injury he'd arrived with. You gave him a skeptical glance but decided to let it slide—for now.

The two of you walked through the makeshift hospital in comfortable silence. You noticed how other soldiers gave him nods or muttered greetings in passing, even though none of them really knew him. Something about Logan just demanded respect—maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through you.

At the mess tent, you grabbed two metal trays, handing one to him. “Hope you’re not picky. The food’s... not exactly five-star.”

Logan smirked. “I’ve had worse.”

You sat together at a small table, away from the loudest group of soldiers. For a moment, it was almost peaceful, like the war outside didn’t exist. Logan picked at his food absently, and you couldn’t help but study him—how his hands moved, how his jaw clenched like he was always bracing for bad news.

“So... you’ve done this before?” you asked, breaking the quiet. “The soldier thing, I mean.”

Logan glanced at you, something flickering in his expression. “Yeah. A few times.”

A few times. The way he said it made it sound like more than just a couple of tours.

“Must’ve been rough,” you murmured, stirring your soup. “I can’t imagine coming back to it over and over.”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you, and for a second, you felt pinned under the weight of it. Like he knew something you didn’t. “You get used to it,” he muttered, but the sadness in his voice told a different story.

There was a beat of silence, and then you leaned forward slightly, your curiosity getting the better of you. “You ever... think about what you’d do, you know, if you weren’t here? If the war wasn’t happening?”

Logan stared at his tray, his jaw tightening like he was biting back something painful. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Once or twice.”

The way he said it made your chest ache, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, “What would you do?”

Logan’s thumb brushed along the edge of his tray—a nervous habit, like he was weighing whether to tell you the truth. “There’s someone,” he said slowly. “Someone I thought about settlin’ down with... a long time ago.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “What happened?”

Logan looked away, his expression hardening like a door slamming shut. “Didn’t work out.”

It wasn’t the whole story—you could tell that much. But you didn’t push. There was something in the way he said it, like the loss was still raw, even if it had happened years ago.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, unsure why you felt the need to say it.

Logan gave a small shrug, like it didn’t matter. But you knew better. It did matter. It mattered a lot.

---

After lunch, the two of you lingered outside the tent, neither of you in a rush to return to the chaos inside. The sun was warm on your face, a rare moment of peace in a world that had been anything but peaceful lately.

“You’re not what I expected,” you said suddenly, glancing at Logan.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’d you expect?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know. Maybe someone more... closed off. But you’re not as much of a mystery as you think.”

Logan chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “You’d be surprised.”

You bit your lip, studying him. “You feel... familiar,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Like we’ve met before.”

Logan went still, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off with some sarcastic comment. But instead, he looked at you with that same haunted expression you’d seen earlier—the one that made your chest tighten.

“Maybe we have,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

The words sent a strange chill down your spine. You stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. But Logan didn’t offer any more answers. He just stood there, watching you like he was waiting for something.

Before you could ask, Sandra’s voice called from the distance, snapping you both out of the moment. “Y/N! Doctor’s looking for you.”

You sighed, giving Logan a small, reluctant smile. “Duty calls.”

Logan nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Better get to it.”

You hesitated for just a second longer, something inside you screaming that there was more to this—more to him. But instead, you gave him one last smile before turning away.

---

When Logan was alone again, he pulled the ring from his pocket, turning it over in his fingers. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way that only hurt more now.

He’d carried it through battles, through lifetimes, always hoping—maybe this time. But hope had a way of slipping through his fingers, just like you always did.

Logan clenched the ring in his fist, his jaw tightening. He knew better than to hope. He always did. But still... here you were.

For now, at least.

---

The next day you begrudgingly cleared Logan and showed him to where he would be staying before he got called away for another fight. It was a small quarters, shared with some of the other guys, but it was better than the hospital bed.

You should know. Sometimes you’ve taken power naps on those beds—when the hospital got too busy or you needed a break but couldn’t leave. They were uncomfortable as hell, but after long hours, you didn’t have much choice.

Logan tossed his bag on the bunk, eyeing the cramped quarters. It wasn’t much—just a room with a few cots and a flimsy curtain dividing it from the rest of the barracks—but he didn’t seem to care.

“You’ll be all right here,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

Logan smirked, glancing at the bed like it was just another obstacle in his way. “I’ve had worse.”

You gave him a sideways glance, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, I’m starting to see a pattern with you.”

He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound doing strange things to your heart. His presence was so... solid. Like he’d been through hell and back, yet here he was, standing in front of you like nothing could break him.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you added with a smirk. “There’s always a chance you’ll end up back in the infirmary if you’re not careful.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that made the muscles in his forearms flex under his rolled-up sleeves. “You worried about me, nurse?”

“Maybe I am,” you teased, keeping it light even though part of you was serious. “I don’t want to have to stitch you back up.”

He laughed again, softer this time, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than just casual. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll heal.”

The words hung between you, something unspoken settling in. There was always something deeper with Logan, like the surface of his words barely scratched at the things he carried underneath.

Before you could respond, a couple of soldiers passed by, giving Logan nods of acknowledgment as they went. You noticed the way they looked at him, like he was someone who’d earned their respect without even trying.

Logan pushed off the wall, moving past you toward the door. “Thanks for the room,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “But I could use a drink.”

You laughed. “Well, good luck with that. This isn’t exactly the Ritz.”

He stopped just outside the door, turning back to you. His eyes were sharp, but there was something softer underneath. “You wanna join me?”

You paused, surprised by the offer. “Are you askin’ me out, Logan?”

His lips twitched into a half-smile. “Just tryin’ to be friendly.”

You let out a small huff of laughter, shaking your head as you grabbed your cap and followed him. “Fine. But if you’re looking for whiskey, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of your boots crunching on the gravel road filling the air. The base had quieted down a bit as the sun dipped lower, the day easing into a calm that didn’t come often in a warzone.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Logan from time to time, trying to figure him out. He was so... different. From anyone you’d met. From any soldier you’d treated. And yet, he felt so familiar.

You found a small spot near one of the mess tents where a few crates had been stacked up like makeshift seats. Logan grabbed a canteen from his jacket, unscrewing the cap before taking a long drink. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“That better be water,” you joked, taking a seat beside him.

Logan handed you the canteen, smirking. “Try it and find out.”

You took a cautious sip, then immediately coughed, the burn of the alcohol catching you off guard. “God—what is this?”

“Something I picked up,” Logan said, eyes gleaming with amusement as you wiped your mouth. “Figured it’d help take the edge off.”

You gave him a playful glare, handing the canteen back. “Next time, a little warning, maybe?”

Logan shrugged, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re trouble, Logan.”

He chuckled, leaning back against the crate. “Been called worse.”

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, passing the canteen back and forth. The alcohol burned, but it wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever tasted—not by a long shot. And it did what Logan said it would—it took the edge off.

You studied him for a moment, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, even when he was sitting still. “You feel familiar,” you said quietly, your voice almost drowned out by the soft sounds of the base around you. “Like we’ve met before.”

Logan’s expression shifted—just for a second. His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away from you and toward the horizon. “Maybe we have,” he murmured, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it.

The words sent a strange, unexplainable shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but before you could, he stood up, stretching his arms over his head like he was shaking something off.

“C’mon,” he said, his voice lighter now, almost like he was forcing it. “You ready to head back?”

You blinked, still caught in the haze of the moment. But you nodded, standing up and brushing the dirt from your uniform. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The two of you walked back toward the barracks in silence, the air between you feeling heavier now. Something had shifted—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But you knew it wasn’t nothing.

When you reached the barracks, Logan stopped at the door, turning to look at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice rougher than usual, like he was wrestling with something inside him. “If... if things ever get bad, you find me. Got it?”

You frowned, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “Logan, what—”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, his hazel eyes locking onto yours. “You find me. No matter what.”

You swallowed, nodding slowly. “Okay. I will.”

He held your gaze for a second longer, then nodded, like he was satisfied with your answer. “Good.”

Without another word, Logan turned and headed inside, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket.

What did he mean? Why did he look at you like he knew something you didn’t?

You lingered there for a moment before finally heading to your own quarters. But even as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Logan’s words echoed in your mind.

You find me. No matter what.

---

The next few days were a strange mix of routine and tension. Logan stayed around the base, mostly keeping to himself, but you found yourself crossing paths with him more often than you expected. Every time, there was that same intensity in his gaze, like he was watching you, waiting for something.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. But it did make your chest tighten every time you saw him.

One evening, as the sun began to set, you found yourself wandering toward the edge of the base, needing a moment to clear your head. The war, the patients, the constant pressure—it was all getting to you. And Logan... well, Logan wasn’t making things any easier.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Need some company?”

You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Jeez, you scared me,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he said, pushing off the tree and walking over to stand beside you. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You sighed, glancing out at the fading sun. “Yeah, I guess I could.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there beside you, his presence solid and reassuring. After a few beats of silence, he spoke.

“You doin’ all right?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It’s just... a lot sometimes, you know?”

Logan nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “Yeah. I get it.”

There was something in the way he said it—something that made you believe he really did get it. Like he knew exactly what it felt like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“Thanks for asking,” you said quietly, your gaze still focused on the horizon.

Logan was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. “I meant what I said before,” he murmured. “You ever need anything... you come find me.”

You turned to look at him, the seriousness in his voice catching you off guard. “Logan... why are you doin’ this? Why are you looking out for me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and rough. “Because... you’re important. More than you know.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Important? How? Why?

Before you could ask, Logan stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “Just promise me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise me you’ll come find me if you need to.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I promise.”

Logan held your gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your head spinning with questions.

You’re important. More than you know.

What did that mean? Why did Logan feel so... familiar?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you stood there, your mind racing. Logan had secrets—secrets you weren’t sure you were ready to uncover. But one thing was clear: whatever was between the two of you, it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

---

On another day, you spotted Logan on the outskirts of base, sitting against a truck’s wheel with a notebook in hand.

He looked almost peaceful, maybe the most peaceful you’d ever seen him since he got here. Judging by the way he was moving his pencil, you assumed he was drawing something. You hesitated, not wanting to disturb him, but your curiosity got the better of you.

"Didn’t peg you for an artist," you said, walking over and leaning against the truck beside him.

Logan didn’t look up right away, just kept sketching, but there was a small smirk on his lips. "You learn a lot when you’ve got time," he muttered.

You glanced at the notebook, catching glimpses of rough lines and shadows. “What’re you drawing?”

He paused, almost like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to show you, then turned the notebook just enough for you to see. It was a sketch of the base—a surprisingly detailed one, with the buildings and surrounding trees, even some of the soldiers milling about.

“Not bad,” you said, genuinely impressed. “Didn’t know you had this in you.”

Logan shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Like I said, a lot of time.” He looked at you then, and for a brief moment, there was something more behind his eyes, something deeper. “Keeps me grounded.”

You studied him, wondering what that really meant. Logan had always been a bit of a mystery, but there were moments—like now—where it felt like there was so much more to him than he let on.

“You ever thought about doing something with it? You know, beyond just sketches?” you asked, half teasing, half curious.

Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not the ‘show-off my art’ type. It’s just... for me.” He glanced back at the drawing, his expression softening in a way you didn’t often see. “Helps me forget.”

You nodded, feeling a tug at your chest. “Forget what?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he said, “Everything.”

The weight in his voice told you there was more to that statement—more than you could guess. You’d learned over the past few days that Logan was carrying his own kind of burden, just like you were. And yet, somehow, it felt like his was so much heavier.

“Must be a lot to forget,” you said softly.

Logan’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, you thought he might actually open up. But instead, he just gave a noncommittal grunt and went back to his sketching.

You watched him for a while, feeling the comfortable silence settle between you. It was odd, but Logan’s presence had become... something you looked forward to. Even with all the unspoken tension, being around him made things feel a little less overwhelming.

“I never thanked you,” you said after a while, breaking the quiet. “For, you know... looking out for me.”

Logan’s pencil paused again, and he glanced up. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do,” you insisted, your eyes meeting his. “You didn’t have to. But you did.”

Logan shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable with the gratitude, but his eyes softened. “I told you. You’re important.”

That word again—important. You wanted to ask him why, wanted to press him on what he really meant by that, but something in his expression told you he wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet.

“Just… stay outta trouble,” Logan said, his voice dropping into something rougher, more serious. “I’d rather not have to pull you out of any more messes.”

You smiled, trying to keep things light. “I’ll do my best. But, you know, being a nurse in the middle of a war, trouble kinda finds me.”

Logan let out a soft huff of a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

The sky was growing darker now, the last traces of sunlight fading. You knew you should probably head back to the barracks soon, but something kept you rooted to the spot, standing beside him. The air between you felt charged, like there was something unspoken hanging there, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Logan,” you began, your voice quiet but steady. “Why does it feel like you’ve been watching me? Not just looking out for me, but... like you’ve known me.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. His eyes shifted, as if he was deciding whether to answer that. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, waiting for his response.

“I haven’t,” he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

The way he said it made you frown. “What does that mean?”

Logan’s gaze held yours, intense and searching. There was a flicker of something there—regret? Pain? Before you could figure it out, he looked away, his fingers tightening around the edges of the notebook.

“It means… I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “Not again.”

Again. There it was—a crack in the wall he’d built around himself. But before you could push him on it, Logan stood abruptly, tucking the notebook under his arm.

“You should get some rest,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “Long day tomorrow.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift. “Logan—”

But he was already walking away, his back stiff and his pace quick. You watched him go, your mind spinning with more questions than answers. Something was going on with Logan—something bigger than you’d realized.

And you had a feeling you weren’t going to let it go until you found out the truth.

---

The next morning you found out that Logan had already gone on some mission to Sicily. You weren’t sure why you felt sad, maybe a bit betrayed that he left without saying goodbye, but you did.

You had only known him for a few days, but somehow it seemed longer.

You couldn’t just stand around and dwell on Logan leaving without a goodbye. There was work to do. You made your way to the medical tent where a doctor had been prepping for a surgery. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic hit your nose, grounding you in the moment.

"Y/N, glad you’re here. We’ve got a soldier with a bullet wound to the abdomen," the doctor said, his tone brisk. "I need your hands steady and sharp today."

You nodded, pushing thoughts of Logan to the back of your mind. "Got it, Doctor."

The surgery went on for hours, the steady rhythm of your breathing matching the precise movements of your hands as you assisted. It was intense, but you had no time to be distracted. Life and death were real here, and your job was to fight for life.

When the surgery was finally over, the soldier stabilized, you stepped outside the tent to catch your breath. The sky was still overcast, and the damp air felt heavy. You leaned against a wooden post, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

Logan was gone, but the memory of him lingered. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d left something unsaid. There had been too many moments—too many heavy, unspoken words between you. You tried to brush it off. It had only been a few days since you’d met him, after all. But somehow, it felt like more.

"Y/N."

You looked up to see one of the other nurses approaching. "Yeah?"

"You’ve been requested to assist with another unit. They’re setting up a temporary hospital closer to the front lines. It’ll be rough, but they need experienced hands."

You hesitated. The front lines meant more danger, more chaos. But the soldier in you—the part that was here to help, to make a difference—knew you couldn’t say no.

"When do I leave?" you asked, straightening up.

"Tomorrow morning, first light."

You nodded, giving a small smile. "Thanks for the heads-up."

That night, you tried to sleep, but your mind kept wandering back to Logan. To his last words before he’d left—"I don’t want you to get hurt. Not again." What had he meant by ‘again’? It kept echoing in your mind, nagging at you.

---

The next morning came quickly, and before you knew it, you were being packed into a truck heading closer to the front lines. The landscape passed by in a blur, and the closer you got to the new camp, the louder the sounds of war became. Shells exploded in the distance, and the ground seemed to vibrate with tension.

You spent the next few days in a haze of blood, bandages, and exhaustion. There was barely any time to think, let alone dwell on Logan. But still, every once in a while, your thoughts drifted to him—wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe.

It was late one night, a few days into your new assignment, when the unexpected happened. The sirens had started to blare, lights flashing around camp. That could only mean one thing- you were under attack. And judging by the loud engines overhead, none of you were going to make it out alive.

---

Logan had gone with other soldiers to Sicily for Operation Husky. He didn’t want to leave you, but part of him thought, hoped, that maybe he was your bad luck charm.

Logan stared at the coastline of Sicily, but his mind was elsewhere. The mission was straightforward—get in, clear the path for the troops, and secure the area. But no matter how focused he tried to stay, thoughts of you kept creeping back in. He wondered if you were safe. He hoped, for your sake, that you weren’t thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you.

It was torture, being away. But deep down, Logan believed it was better this way. Maybe him being around was what doomed you every time. You had died three times before, and each time, he had been there. Maybe this time, distance would keep you safe.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting you. The thought of your smile, your laughter, the way you challenged him—it made him ache with something deeper than just desire. It was like an old wound that never healed, no matter how fast the rest of him did.

One of the soldiers called his name, pulling him from his thoughts. “Logan, you with us, man?”

He grunted in response, nodding toward the others. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good,” the guy said. “We’re heading out.”

Logan followed, but his thoughts drifted again, back to you. He had promised himself he wouldn’t get attached this time. But it was too late for that. He’d been attached since 1854, since that first smile, that first laugh.

---

It was a few days before Logan made it back to base, one closer to the frontlines. The mission had gone as planned, but something gnawed at him, an uneasy feeling he couldn’t shake.

As soon as the base came into view, Logan noticed something was off. Smoke still lingered in the air, and there were fewer people around than there should’ve been. His gut twisted. Something had happened while he was gone.

He found one of the soldiers he recognized, grabbing him by the arm. “What happened here?”

The guy’s face darkened. “We were hit. Bombing raid. Caught us off guard. There... there weren’t many survivors.”

Logan’s heart dropped. “Where’s the hospital unit?”

The soldier hesitated, eyes flicking away from Logan’s intense gaze. “It was one of the first targets. No one made it out.”

Logan felt like the ground had dropped from under him. “What do you mean, no one?” His voice was a low growl, almost dangerous.

The soldier shook his head. “I’m sorry, man. They didn’t stand a chance.”

Logan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. The world around him blurred as the words sank in. You were gone. Again.

Without saying another word, Logan turned and walked toward what was left of the hospital tent. He had to see it for himself, even though part of him knew it was true. There was nothing left but rubble and debris.

His chest tightened, the weight of it crushing. You were gone. And he hadn’t been there to stop it. Again.

Logan stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the wreckage. He felt that familiar, burning anger rising inside him, but it was mixed with something else this time—grief. Deep, raw grief. He wanted to scream, to punch something, anything, but all he could do was stand there, numb.

He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box he always carried with him. The engagement ring. The one he had never used.

It had been almost ninety years since he bought it. And still, he carried it, hoping one day he might finally be able to give it to you. But every time, every life, you slipped through his fingers.

Logan swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. How many more times he could lose you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with emotion.

He had thought putting distance between you two would protect you. But it didn’t matter. You were gone, just like the other times.

And now, once again, he was left with nothing but memories and that damned ring.

in this chapter logan is 111 years old and reader is around 24-27 years old.

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 5

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: the next day you meet evan at the library, where he makes you explain your actions yesterday. then, the next day, an innocent conversation almost turns into one you're both waiting for.

word count: 2.5k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: you guys!!! the feedback on this fic has been so overwhelming, thank you so much!!! i was gonna post a request today but since this one was a little better edited and i haven't had a lot of time today, i figured i'd post this today instead and post the request tomorrow! enjoy<333

warnings: inexperienced!reader, slight enemies to lovers??? a touch of slowburn???, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

The next morning, you drag yourself out of bed. You’re really not looking forward to seeing Evan today, and it feels a little weird. You’re usually excited to see him, but you can’t push away the dread in your belly as you think about what to say to him if he asks why you were so short with him yesterday. While you do feel bad about how you treated him, your feelings about him stay the same: you don’t believe he actually likes you. You just know now that you can’t hold that against him. You can’t force him to like you back, after all.

You make your way to the fifth floor of the library, seeing that he’s already sitting at the table you both have deemed yours. You sit down without a word and start pulling your supplies out of your bag, trying to ignore the way he’s studying your movements.

As soon as you get situated, you start to open your laptop, but his hand immediately comes out to close it. He leans forward on the table in your direction, making sure part of his arm is on your laptop as he rests his chin on his fist, making sure you can’t open it and ignore his presence any further.

“Nuh uh. No assignment today. You’re gonna talk to me about what’s going on in your pretty little head.” he states, keeping his eyes soft as he looks up at you, trying not to spook you. He notices the way you’re holding your breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you gather your thoughts.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” you say softly once you open your eyes, still refusing to look him in the eye. You’re afraid you’ll tell him everything if you look in those big blue eyes. He scoffs at your words, reaching a hand out to grab your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess, don’t do this. Yell at me if you want. Just don’t ignore me.” he begs you, keeping your chin in his grip as he moves his face just inches away from yours. You have so many thoughts whirring around in your head, but all you can get out with him so close is: “We shouldn’t be friends.”

“Why the hell not?” he asks defensively, his tone hardening at your words. He tightens his grip on your chin as you try to look away, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to snap your eyes back to his. 

“We have nothing in common. You play football, and you go to all the frat parties, and you get like, every single girl you want, probably. I don’t do any of that. I go to class, and when I’m not doing class work, I hang out with my roommate, or go to work.” you explain. You’re not exactly saying you don’t want to be friends, just that you don’t understand it, and he picks up on this.

“Why does that matter?” He’s desperate to understand where you’re coming from. He really sees nothing wrong with what you’re saying. Your differences are what attracted him to you in the first place, and how pretty you were, but that’s not the point.

“It just makes no sense!” you exclaim, looking around the library with wide eyes once you realize how loud it came out. “I don’t know why I thought we could be friends, or something. We should just finish this assignment, and be done with it.” you finish, voice much softer as you lean away from his touch, trying to open your laptop again.

“I don’t want that.” he says matter of factly, putting a hand over your laptop again, keeping it closed. You huff, looking back up at him, frowning slightly as you chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I didn’t ask what you wanted.” you say with as much conviction as you can. You can feel the tears slowly forming in your eyes, and you try to will them away as you hold eye contact. You’re not even sure why you’re crying, but you can feel the way his eyes are boring into you, and it feels more intimate than any of the other times he’s looked at you.

“Why don’t I get a say in this? You think that just because we don’t have anything in common, there’s no reason for us to hang out? Well, I don’t agree. I like hanging out with you. I wanna keep hanging out with you, even when we’re done with this stupid assignment. I don’t care about any of the stuff you just said, alright? Now, please don’t shut me out.” he says angrily, jaw clenched.

He can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t understand where it’s coming from; how does this have anything to do with his conversation with Sabrina? He thought he was finally wearing you down, and it makes his chest contract in an odd way as he takes in your tense body language. 

“I just don’t understand.” you trail off, looking down as you see the anger creeping onto his face. You aren’t trying to upset him, you just aren’t sure what else to say without explaining your feelings for him.

“I don’t care. You don’t have to understand. You just have to know that you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I like seeing your pretty face everyday.” he whispers the last part, nudging your elbow softly on the table, giving you a soft smile. 

“Okay.” you mumble after a moment, feeling a smile fighting its way onto your face. You can’t help it. Everytime he calls you pretty, your heart races and you can’t help but fidget with your hands.

“Is that a smile?” he teases, ducking his head, trying to get a better look at your face, still angled down at the table. You shake your head, but a soft laugh escapes your throat, betraying you. He smirks at this, tongue trailing the inside of his cheek as his eyes glance to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“There she is. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he tells you softly, trying to ease you back out of your shell. He’s picked up on the way you get all shy when he compliments you, and he figures this is the fastest way for you to get back to how you two were before. Your eyes dart up to his, shaking your head with a small smile.

“Let’s get to work.” you whisper, pushing his hand off your laptop and opening it. He straightens his back as he stops leaning on the table, feeling giddy as he sees you slowly letting him back in.

“Yes ma’am.” he mumbles back, opening his own laptop.

The next day, you’re standing in the hall with a girl you’ve had a few classes with, a small container open between the two of you as you offer her a cookie. You have to get rid of them somehow; you baked way more than you and your roommate could eat. After a few minutes, you both say goodbye and she goes into her class.

As soon as she walks away Evan walks up to you, quickly snatching a cookie from the container before you can put the lid back on. You smile once you realize it’s him, lowering the lid of the container as you keep the cookies between the both of  you.

He winks at you as he takes a bite, then lets out a loud moan, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the taste hits his tongue. A high pitched laugh escapes your throat at the noise, and you reach out and swat him with the container lid gently, looking around at the other people in the hall who are now staring at both of you.

“Did you make these?” he asks once he swallows, opening his eyes and looking back down at you. You nod, laughing softly. “God. How do you not have a boyfriend?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” you tease softly, face growing hot. He shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth, humming softly as he chews. You laugh again at his actions, shaking your head at his puffed out cheeks full of food. As he chews, his mind races at your words. Now he’s picturing you as a girlfriend. His girlfriend. How you’d be around him. How he’d be able to touch you whenever he wanted. It’s urging him to make a move on you sooner rather than later.

After he finishes the cookie, he looks down at you, eyes softening slightly as he speaks with a more serious tone. It’s now or never, he thinks.

“Seriously, though. Why?” You shrug, pursing your lips, nervously. You think you know why, but you really don’t want to explain to this attractive man exactly why you think so.

“I don’t know. Guys don’t really approach me much.” you tell him softly, eyes darting around the hallway as you notice that most people have filed into different classrooms.

“And have you thought that you’d have more success finding a guy who likes you if you didn’t bite the head off of every guy that approaches you, princess?” he teases, referencing the first time you met. You laugh softly, shaking your head. “My attitude has nothing to do with it.” you tell him, voice getting softer as you keep talking. The way he’s staring so intently at you has your stomach doing flips, and you can feel your mouth go dry as he speaks.

“Oh, really? You’re stubborn and feisty towards anyone giving you an ounce of attention, and yet you can’t figure out why no guys stick around long enough to appreciate you?” You purse your lips at his words, taking in the smirk stuck on his face as he teases you.

“I’m not like that around other people.” you admit sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. His eyes widen slightly at this. He’s so used to you arguing with him that he almost can’t believe that you’re not like this with everyone. “Then why were you so defensive towards me? Why were you in attack mode when I first started talking to you?” he asks after a moment, his smirk widening as your eyes dart around nervously.

“You drive me crazy.” you whisper, as if it was that simple, eyes focused on your hands as you put the lid back on your container. It’s true, he does. He just doesn’t need to know it’s because he’s so attractive it makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” he matches your tone, taking another step closer to you. He’s pretty sure he knows why now; with your nervous expression and your fidgeting. He just wants you to say it. 

“Yes.” you whisper, swallowing as you raise your chin to look up at him

“And why is that, Princess? Why do I drive you crazy?” he continues, waiting for you to admit it.

“I don’t know.” you lie, letting out a shaky breath. You’re sure now that he knows everything. You’re really not doing a good job at hiding anything from him, but you’re so nervous and out of your element that you’re not sure what to do.

“No, I think you do. You’re just too embarrassed to admit it. Go ahead, tell me why I have you so riled up.” You can barely focus on his words as you look up at his face; you’re so overwhelmed by how close he is. You can’t help your eyes glancing down at his lips for a split second before moving back up to his eyes, mind blank as you try to slow your racing heart.

He notices your eyes trailing down to his lips quickly and his smirk grows wider. His eyes glace down to your lips as he takes a deep inhale, deciding that now is his chance. 

Just as he’s about to lower his lips to yours, someone drops their phone, a loud sound echoing through the hallway you’re in. It causes you both to snap out of the world where only you two exist. You jump slightly, then look away, blinking slowly as he clears his throat. 

Fuck, he thinks, the moment is now completely ruined. He barely has time to react before you look back up at him, your brain catching up to the events that just occurred.

“Don’t you have class right now?” you ask him softly. You can’t believe you thought he was going to kiss you. He’s probably flirty with every girl. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to turn off the charm? Your face grows hot as you think about it, waiting for him to respond.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I guess I’ll, uh, go,” His shoulders deflate slightly as he responds to you. Maybe he had read you wrong, maybe you didn’t want to kiss him. He doesn’t want to push you any further, so he decides it’s better for him to just go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, smiling softly, but he can see the nervousness written on your face. He gives you a small smile back and steps away, trying to give you your space. He feels like a complete douchebag, he feels like he almost just forced himself onto you. He’s picked up on your shy demeanor over the last few weeks, and he had assumed it was because of him, but now he thinks that maybe you’re just that shy around everyone else.

He says goodbye before walking away, and you let out a shaky breath once he does, still reeling from how close he was to you.

“Morning, princess.” he says as he sits down at the table the next morning, chuckling as he notices that you’re already almost done your coffee. He knows that you get coffee in the morning on campus before coming here, and he figures today has been a rough morning, as you’ve basically chugged the whole thing already. You greet him softly, taking your eyes off your laptop and meeting his gaze. 

“I accidentally submitted my pre-edited assignment to my professor. He emailed me this morning and asked why my essay was titled ‘Why Macbeth is a Whiny Little Bitch.’” you say, your face hot with embarrassment. Evan’s eyes widen, and he can’t help the loud laugh that escapes his throat, which makes the smile you were fighting erupt on your face.

“How the hell did you do that?” he asks through his laughter, and you shake your head, pursing your lips at his reaction.

“The un-edited one and the edited one were right beside each other, I clicked the wrong one.” you say, finally letting out a small laugh at your misfortune. You’re very lucky your professor is one of the most laid back ones you’ve had, and your assignments are usually very well done.

He continues laughing, and asks why you named it that, which sends you into a small rant about the Shakespeare play. 

As you explain, it’s almost as if your almost-kiss is forgotten about, or at least, the awkward events that happened after it are. You’re talking to him without feeling weird at all, and he has that stupid smirk on his face as he flirts with you again. It feels natural, and neither of you think too much about what almost happened, lost in how good it feels to be around each other.

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[hazelvrr]

Chapter 1: The fair

S/n: As promised here's chapter 1, let me know if I should continue with this fic as I've never written a full fic before so I might be rubbish, also it's not proofread but any mistakes should only be minor. No use of y/n. I tried to capture their personalities to the best of my ability but they are so funny that they're also extremely difficult to write. I tried to not repeat any scenes from the movie, they still happen unless I mention them differently but I didn't want to sound like a broken record.

Summary: you get ready with pj and josie for the fair and they question your friendship with hazel and then you see her at the fair.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.1k

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

The fair was the one thing you looked forward to at the end of summer. Pretty much everything else about summer ending absolutely sucked but at least there was the fair.

Every year as soon as August rolled around, you were counting down the days until you could ride the ferris wheel, get cotton candy and most importantly, see hazel for the first time in 3 months.

Your 'best friend' hazel, if you could even call her that, volunteered at some charity or association of some sort all summer every single year without fail, so you couldn't see her for 3 months straight, which always drove you crazy.

You weren't quite sure why, after all, it was the same with pj and josie because they were away at some abstinence camp for the youth or as pj called it 'an anti sex cult run by a bunch of jealous old nuns who dont get any and are trying to ruin her life because shes hot as fuck' (her words, not yours) so you didn't see them either but you couldn't care less, so why were you so bothered about not seeing hazel?

Either way, you were super exited about this year's fair and had decided to get a ride from josie (only because you were embarrassed to tell anyone cool that you had failed your drivers test 5 times over the summer and had acctually managed to get yourself banned from the local dmv from 'assaulting your driving instructor' which you only did because he totally had it in for you) so naturally you thought it was a good idea to get ready at her house with her and pj.

BIG MISTAKE.

You should have known that pj and Josie, being the horny pervs that they are, spent the whole evening scheming about getting the cheerleaders attention, and how they were planning on getting possibly the straightest teenage girls you had ever seen in your whole life to fall head over heels for them.

Absolute losers.

You were so used to their antics that your brain had completely tuned them out as you applied your eyeliner, sitting beside pj, faces pushing eachother out of the way to fight to look in the tiniest mirror on josies desk.

You had stopped listening after josie had started ranting about the size of Jeff's penis, you were planning on stuffing your face with corndogs in less than an hour, and that was really putting you off the idea, that was until you heard josie say your name.

"Soo, have you spoken to hazel since school ended?"

Pj looks over at you with a shit eating grin on her face, "what she means to say is, have the two of you fucked yet?"

You roll your eyes at pj, not even dignifying her with an answer and turn your head to face josie, who was now stacking snapbacks on her head whilst looking in the mirror.

"To answer your question, yeah we've facetimed a few times and texted a lot."

"Oooo phone sex," pj giggles, "kinky."

You just flick pj in the head and begin applying your lipgloss.

Josie picks up one of the snapbacks from the floor and launches it at pjs head and instead misses and knocks over the mirror.

"Dude what the fuck." Pj hisses, standing up to go over to josies closet door to look at her outfit in the full length mirror, posing and checking herself out.

"Seriously though, when are you going to make a move?" Josie asks, backing away from pj and going to sit on the bed.

You look at her with a confused expression, "what do you mean, we're just friends."

Josie cocks her eyebrow and smirks, "please, you've been in love with her since 5th grade, you know it, I know it, pj knows it, pretty much everyone in a 10 mile radius can see it, except for hazel herself since she's an oblivious dork, but that's besides the point."

You go to answer but pj comes back over and sits back down next to you and you take the opportunity to escape and use the bathroom.

You take your time in there staring into the glass, turning your body around, checking that your hair is straight, your makeup looks good in natural lighting, oh and that your cleavage is poking through your tank top just enough, for no particular reason other than looking hot for yourself (well, that's what you told yourself anyways).

As you open the bathroom door to return to josies bedroom you hear pj and josie whispering, and being as nosy as you are, you press your ear up against the door to listen to what they're saying.

"Shhh she's gonna hear you" josie hushes.

"Shut up no she's not, that bitch couldn't hear a rocket land if it landed on the roof."

"How much did you say you wanna bet again?"

"50 bucks. If by the end of the school year they haven't fucked, I owe you 50 bucks, but if they have, you owe me 100."

"How the fuck does that work, why do I owe you double?"

"Because I'm fucking awesome... okay because I'm broke as hell and am gonna need the contribution for my homecoming dress so I can look sexy for brittany, duh."

"Yeah yeah whatever, its a deal, I think she's coming."

You once again roll your eyes at how pathetic they are. You swear to god that if you spent any more time with them than you already do, your eyes would permanently be fixed in the back of your head.

"Hey guys, you ready to go it's almost 8," you suggest as you open the door, "josie, what the hell do you think you're wearing?!"

"What do you mean?" She looks down confused at her spiritual playboy shirt, 5 carabiners hooked onto her pants' belt loops and her arm sling on her right arm.

"You look like dyke throw-up," pj cackles, standing up from the desk and following you both out of the bedroom door.

Josie looks back at pj as you're all walking down the stairs, "pj you can't say anything, look at you, you've got suspenders over your nipples like a goddamn freak."

Pj flips her off from behind her head and you can't help but giggle as you follow them out to the car and hop in the backseat.

"How'd you break your arm again josie?" You lean forward and ask as josie turns the keys and reverses out of her driveway.

"She flunked out of anti horny camp and fell out of her bunk rubbing one out," pj replies casually, looking down at her phone that displays brittanys Instagram posts from the summer, "fuck, she got even hotter over summer, how's that even possible?"

"Is isabel in any of the photos?" Josie questioned desperately, sneaking a peak down at pjs phone as she pulls up to a red light.

"God you're both pathetic."

You finally arrive to the fair, granted you're 20 minutes late because josie circled the parking lot at least 10 times as pj yelled at her to just fucking park, but josie wanted to make sure she could find a big enough spot.

You hand over your tickets and walk in, they're both muttering about something or other but you're not really listening, you're just scanning for hazel until you feel a tap on your shoulder and nearly jump out of your skin.

"Hey guys," hazel smiles, bringing you in for a hug, "long time no see, wait.. pj, josie, you never come to the fair?"

You point over at isabel and brittany standing a few feet away, where they had been gawking at them for the past 5 minutes.

"Ah, I see," She nods, I haven't seen you In ages I've missed you."

"Yeah.. me too," you blush, looking down at your shoes.

"Oh shit what happened to josies arm?"

"Masterbating."

"What, is her vagina made out of concrete or something?"

"No what? Hazel, she fell out of her bunk," pj scoffs.

"Can everyone please stop talking about my vagina?" Josie interjects.

"Soo hazel, what's this I hear about you volunteering at a slop farm?" Pj questions.

"The national meat association? Yeah it was good," hazel replies, "so did you guys get up to anything crazy over summer?"

"Yeah we killed this girl at camp for snitching on josie, got arrested, taken to Juvie and spent the rest of summer there, nearly died but they let us go when we told them that we're dykes and called them homophobic," pj explains sarcastically.

"What?! Are you guys okay?"

Josie facepalms.

You were about to explain that pj was being sarcastic when you hear cheering and you all look over to see Jeff appearing with the rest of the football team.

You all exchange disgusted looks and then pj notices that isabel and brittany are walking in your direction.

She snatches your corndog out of your hand and hands it to josie and then takes hazels cotton candy and hands her a wad full of tickets. Her and josie anxiously keep swapping the corndog and cotton candy mumbling to eachother until isabel and brittany are standing right infront of you all.

Josie drops her corndog, well actually YOUR corndog and kicks it away in hopes of isabel not noticing but both isabel and brittany look down and watch her do it, then look back up at her and raise their eyebrows.

"Hey can I uh, get my cotton candy back?" Hazel asks as she reaches forwards towards pj to grab it, but instead is hit in the head with it by pj who just ignores her and takes a bite out of it.

You look at hazel and shrug your shoulders, jerking your head to turn her attention back to the disaster of a conversation going on between the four of them.

"Oh hey, didn't see you there," brittany says to you poking her head round to look at you, "how's your summer been?"

"Yeah it's been good," you reply, "looking forward to cheering again though I've really missed it, what about you guys?"

"Yeah, I've been practicing all summer I'm really looking forward to getting back into it!" Isabel smiles, stepping forward.

The conversation goes on for a painful amount of time, every second making you want to gouge your eyeball out with a fork as you just make ridiculous faces at hazel, who just looks back at you the same way before giggling.

You went to follow pj and josie out to josies car when hazel quickly follows, "I can drive you home if you want, your on the way and I doubt you want to listen to another second of them babbling on about isabel and brittany."

"Yeah that would actually be great, thank you."

"No trouble at all," She says, "plus, it's an excuse to speak to you, we haven't had much of a chance to talk tonight."

She pulls out her car keys and unlocks her car, of course its a range rover. Her mom gave it to her as a pity gift when her dad left which obviously didn't fix the issue but hazel didn't complain and just accepted the car, even though she wasn't old enough to drive at the time, which her mom forgot because she barely pays any attention to her own daughter.

The drive is only 5 minutes long, since you live so close, so you don't get long to chat, but she tells you all about the meat association and the cool tshirt she got to wear, even showing you a photo when she pulls up on your driveway.

You lean over and give her a hug, "see you at school tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it," She grins, "meet me outside to walk in together?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Once you had kicked off your shoes and lazily removed your makeup, you got changed and plopped onto your bed.

Tonight was so chaotic yet for some reason you weren't thinking about pj and josies funny attempt at flirting or how they had made complete asses out of themselves, only about the drive home with hazel, how her hair blew in the wind, framing her face perfectly, how her hand gripped the steering wheel as she reversed out of the parking lot and how her eyes practically lit up when she was talking to you about her voluntary work over the summer.

You try to sleep but instead you lay awake for hours staring at your ceiling thinking about it. You simply cannot get her out of your head.

Huh. Maybe, just maybe, you did like hazel callahan? No. Surely not. Unless...

[harringtonstilinski]

I Wish You Would - Chapter 4(5); The Tiger

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Gator Tillman x Dollface Word Count: 2,109 Warnings: lil' bit of angst, lil' bit of fluff, not proofread Smut: no | yes; oral (f+m receiving), A/N: Hi, friends! My third rewrite series is upon us and it's for our boy, Gator!! Inspiration hit for this series while I was looking for random Joe Keery screencaps. I hope you're excited for this! If you are, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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When you woke up the next morning, you had a smile on your face. A warm feeling between your legs. “Mmmm, Gator,” you said, groggily. “What are you doing?”

Kissing up your legs and stomach had a smile growing on your face. When Gator popped up out of the sheets, you giggled. “Just giving my girl some love and attention,” he said before kissing you deeply.

With a smile on your face, you hummed before putting your hand on Gator’s shoulder, gently pushing him to his back. “Well, if we’re showing love and attention, maybe I should give you some.” You kissed his lips before kissing your way down his body, the same way he did coming back up your body.

When you made your way to his hard shaft, you kissed just below the head. “I promise I’ll try to make you feel good.” Before Gator could ask any questions, you took his head into your mouth, humming.

Gator groaned, throwing his head back some at the feel of your mouth on him. “Fuck, baby.”

You took as far as you could, your hand wrapping around what couldn’t fit in your mouth. Working your mouth and your hand at the same, your main thought was to not choke and to make Gator feel good. 

“Hot damn, you’re doing amazing,” he breathed. Looking down at you, his mouth opened in pure ecstasy, brows drawn together. He could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. “Keep going, baby. I’m gonna come soon.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes, loving that you’re making him feel his best. Hearing his grunts, you knew he was gonna come soon, so you lifted your head, releasing him with a soft pop, hand still working him.

“Fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

Hovering over him, you worked him until he released his load on your chest. When he was finished, you crawled back up his bed, pressing your lips to his, just like he did you. “Feel loved and like you got attention?”

“Very much so,” he said, cupping the back of your head with his good hand and flipping the two of you back over, a squeal on your lips before a laugh escaped. He looked down at your chest and smiled. “Pearl necklaces look good on you.”

Almost dumbfounded, your eyes widened just a little. “That’s what that’s called?”

Chuckling, Gator said, “Yeah. In sex terms, anyway.”

Your cheeks turned pink at the way he was looking at you and your chest.

“Hey, you okay?”

Nodding, you looked down at his own chest, running your hand over the hair that you’ve loved on him since you first noticed it in high school. Your insecurities started to creep in. “Was… was it… good?”

“It was amazing– wait. Have you never given a blow job before?” he asked. 

You glanced at him quickly before looking back down, shaking your head. “It’s either never gotten that far or I was just a quick fuck for someone else.”

“Well, I’m definitely looking forward to more.” Gator smiled a little. “Hey. For your first time, it was amazing. Just one request?”

Looking up at him shyly, you quietly asked, “What?”

“Next time, try to take more of me. Not to where you’re gonna choke, but just… more, okay?”

“Will you coach me through it?”

Placing a kiss to your forehead, Gator sighed. “Of course, baby. Now, get up, get your ass in the shower and meet me back in here, okay?”

“Okay.”

~~~

You stewed in anger sitting in the backseat of Bowman’s truck. “I’m so fucking angry, I could kill all four of you.”

Bowman chuckled. “Little Miss, you wouldn’t kill a fly.”

“Fucking try me, Bowman. I’m squished back here between fucking Rip Wheeler and a wannabe YouTube actor.” Moving forward in the seat, you leaned your head between Gator and Bowman, looking down. “Holy shit! You have a bench seat! Move the fuck over!”

As quickly and safely as you could, you threw your legs over the back of the seat, using Gator’s head as support before you plopped down right next to him. Before you could get comfortable, your phone started ringing.

Groaning, you took it out of your back pocket, seeing that it was your father calling. Sighing, you accepted the call, putting the phone up to your ear. “Hello, dearest father. To what do I owe this pleasure?” “Cut the shit. Where’ve you been? You haven’t been home in days.”

“I’ve been at Gator’s. Making up for lost time.”

“Get your ass home. TONIGHT. That lizard boy ain’t worth your time.”

“That ‘lizard boy’ just so happens to make me happy. So, no. I will not be coming back to your house. I’ll find somewhere to rent.” You hung up before you could hear his stupid reply.

“I hate it when he calls me that,” Gator sighed. 

Wrapping your arm around his and lacing your fingers, you rested your head on his shoulder, saying, “I know. He wants me to be with someone that, and I quote, Has a normal fucking name. Someone that wasn’t named after a reptile because he looked like one at birth. What a waste of fucking space he is. BOTH our dads , really.”

“Okay, dollface. I think we get it.” Gator chuckled, the other’s chuckles reaching your ears.

Looking at Bowman and the other Hands, you pointed at them. “Any of you repeat that and I’ll cut your fucking cocks off and shove them up each of your asses.”

Bowman laughed as he parked at the hospital where Nadine and her husband currently were. The truck was a good bit aways from the doors. It wasn’t five minutes later, Gator’s phone ringing brought you out of your - almost - sleep.

“I’m gonna kill whoever’s calling you,” you said.

“Talk to me,” is how Gator answered the phone before he quietly replied, “Yes.” He hit his leg before saying a little more loudly, “Yes.”

You could faintly hear Roy’s voice on the other end telling Gator to pass the phone to Bowman. 

“I don’t–” Gator said, sighing. 

“Pass me… to Bowman.”

“Fuckin’ dick,” you muttered at the same time Gator said, “You didn’t have to send him to babysit me.”

“Just give him the damn phone!”

Sitting up, you mumbled, “Alright, ya’know what–” You were gonna give Roy a piece of your mind, but Gator’s arm passing the phone to Bowman stopped you from taking the phone.

Sighing, you cupped Gator’s cheek, turning his face towards yours to look him in the eyes. I love you, you mouthed, to which Gator nodded back before looking down beside you, seeing his phone.

You looked at Bowman, a brow raised. “What did the asshole say?”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “You two stay here,” before pointing to the two Hands in the back, getting out of the truck. 

“Wait- what the fuck. Why?”

“I’m the law,” Gator said. “I’m…” He looked at the door and said, “I’m comin’. I’m– fuck.”

“Wish I could tell you you would be comin’, but I’m in such a sour mood,” you said, crossing your arms.

Gator half chuckled, half scoffed before saying, “I wish you would.” He got out his vape, inhaling the nicotine. “You stay in the fucking car.”

“G, are you going on a downward spiral?” you asked, looking over at him. “Babe?”

“You stay in the fucking car.”

Releasing a deep breath, you sat up and swung your leg over Gator, straddling him.

“You– whoa.”

Cupping his cheeks, you looked at him, seeing that he was, in fact, going on a downward spiral. “Gator?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Before he could respond, you pressed your lips to his, staying there for just a moment before moving your lips against his. His arms wrapping around you. A groan escaped you when Gator pulled away, looking off to his left. “Gatorrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

“Shut up,” he said. “Look.”

You turned your head to look at what he was; the FBI agents from a few days ago.

“Shit,” Gator muttered. He looked at you, saying “Sorry, baby,” before all but shoving you off of him to reach for his phone, the word shit coming out of his mouth a couple more times before he finally looked at his phone, pausing for a second.

Watching his eyes dance around, you were more than confused on what he was thinking before he looked at you. “Stay in the truck.”

“Wha- no! Gator, I’m coming with you! The fuck?” you said, Gator throwing his hat back in the truck after you exited. After closing the door, Gator took off like a rocket, running through the parking lot, you trailing not far behind him.

With your hand in his, you two made your way through the hospital, spotting Nadine talking to the agents. What Gator did next shocked you; he passed them, not stopping. He led you to the Hands that were standing at a door, Bowman standing there looking a little shocked.

“You two were supposed to wait in the truck,” he said.

“FBI is here,” Gator whispered. “Look who they’re talking to.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bowman said. “We got her husband. Had to tenderize him.”

You looked at the man they had in a wheelchair, furrowing your brows. That’s not him, you thought to yourself. “Uhh, G?”

“Let’s go,” Bowman said.

Gator led you, Bowman, the two Hands and ‘Wayne’ to the elevators, the six of you piling in. Looking up at Gator, you saw him put his finger to his lips, tapping twice as he basically told Nadine to keep quiet.

~~~

After you and Gator got back to his house, you changed into one of his t-shirts, got a notebook and pen, and opened your laptop. On the paper, you had some notes written down, a very focused look on your face.

When Gator walked back in his room from his shower, all he could do was stare at you, seeing the blue light from the computer screen shining on your face. “What’cha doin’, doll?”

“Looking at places for rent,” you replied, typing something on your keyboard before writing it down in your notebook. “I’m tired of living in that stupid house, and I’m also tired of you living here with your asshole of a father.” Sparing a look at him, you added, “It’s time you’re out on your own, G.”

Moving closer to you, he rested his knuckles on the bed as best he could without injuring himself more. “Are you sayin’ you wanna move in together?”

“Yes, I fucking am.”

“We only just got together, baby,” he said quietly, moving forward to place a kiss on your neck. 

Sighing and closing your eyes, you replied, “I know. But it just feels right. And when you know, you know. And I know.”

“Know what?” he asked, moving your things out of the way. 

“That I want to live with you. For the rest of my life.”

Laying you back gently and hovering over you, Gator said, “Be my little badge bunny?”

Reaching for the hem of his shirt, you smiled and said, “I’ve been your badge bunny.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “I guess there are some perks to living on our own.”

“What’s that?” you asked, lightly gasping at the feel of his lips wrapping around a hardened nipple. 

“I get to hear you scream my name.”

A delicious shiver went down your spine before a yawn took over. “Dammit.”

Chuckling, he fixed the shirt you were wearing, moving your notebook and laptop to his desk before pulling the covers off the spots where you two lay, getting under them and wrapping you up in his arms. 

Your front to his front, you tilted your head back to look at him through sleepy eyes. “I’m glad I came back to Lehigh.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he asked, looking down at you.

“Because it brought me back to you.” Reaching up, you placed your fingers on his jawline, a sleepy smile on your face. “Now, kiss me goodnight.”

He chuckled and tilted his head down, placing a longing kiss to your lips, a soft smack heard between the two of you as he pulled away. “Get some sleep, dollface.”

Sighing and closing your eyes, you whispered, “I love you, G,” before feeling his lips on your forehead.

When your breathing evened out and your body fully relaxed in his arms, Gator let out a breath, resting his lips against your forehead. “I love you, too, dollface,” he whispered, before closing his eyes and falling right to sleep with you safely in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! i know i said back in 2024 that i would never write for gator because of the dv content that surrounds the family, but i went back on that promise and wrote i wish you would after reading some fics about gator. there are NO mentions of actual dv being taken place; just the aftermath. again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Note: 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @stixnstripesworld​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​ @quanticobae​​​ @mischiefandi​​​ @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​​​​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from Dollface and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Noah Hawley.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on June 16, 2025

[getdestroyed-staydestroyed]

'Day by Day by Day' or: The Great Five-Year Hiatus

So it's been quite a little while hasn't it?

Five whole years to be exact.

A stretch of time that anyone would rightfully call more than "a little while" if we're being honest. And for that I don't really have anyone to blame but myself. For the longest time I have struggled with maintaining active presences across multiple websites and platforms, at least in an organic way that doesn't involve services like Postybirb. I want to get better at that, and right now there's no better motivation for that than the start of this year, considering what I've got in store!

While the past five years have seen me doing everything from commissions, to adopts, ask answers, and illustrations on platforms like Tumblr, then Twitter, and now Twitter + Bluesky, I've pivoted to making the push I should have done a while ago: full length comics. What does this mean? Well quite a number of things!

As I stated in the first post on here I've uploaded since 2021, I've been working on constructing a website for the second half of last year and save for a few final finishing touches, I'm slated to go live with it during the first quarter of this year! This site is mainly going to be a hub for hosting all the comics I'm going to have going forward! From one-shots, to long-form narratives, it's all gonna be at this easy to find domain instead of trying to hunt me down across infinite platforms. I'm still going to be doing my best to maintain a renewed presence here and other sites, but that's going to be the "headquarters" so to speak!

And we won't be starting out things empty handed on a barren site mind you, oh no. To kick things off the first comic to be uploaded in full on there is going to be: Step-Monster! And not just the first volume that started it all folks, the long awaited Volume II is going to drop to wrap things up. 5 full new chapters to conclude the story of Matilda, the Millers, Roy, and their tale of circumstance, parenthood, trust, and love. Hard dates for these chapter's release will be coming soon, and teasers will drop as well so keep your ears to the ground! As the deviation that went up was titled: "Big Things" are indeed coming! I can't wait to finally bring you folks along for the ride on the stories and ideas I've been sharing pictures of online for so long. The time is here! It's time for comics! Time for stories!

I want to extend a massive thank you to everyone who has continued to follow, support, and encourage me during this loose "hiatus" of sorts. To hear through other folks that people are constantly bringing up and talking about Step-Monster even in this period of abesnce has done nothing but inspire me to get serious. Because if this is you folks when I'm not making comics I can't imagine what things are gonna be like when we get the ball rolling! Stay tuned everyone!

[hanstruman]

What Still Lingers

Chapter 5

Everything that just happened reminds you too much of before—before the world went quiet.

Before the plague.

Before the dead started walking.

Back when fear still came with names like abandonment, betrayal, and not being wanted. When survival wasn't about outrunning death, but about enduring people who made you feel like a burden.

You press your back harder against the door, like you can keep the memories from crawling under your skin.

You shouldn't have followed Hyunjin. You could have stayed in your sanctuary. You could have gone back.

But he was right.

You wouldn't have lasted.

Your hands tremble against your thighs. You don't know if it's from what Chan said or from the way he grabbed you. The bruise will bloom fast, you can already feel it. Proof that even here, in the quiet warmth of a place that should feel safe—you're still an outsider. Still fragile.

A soft knock breaks through the storm in your mind.

You freeze.

Then a voice, barely above a whisper:

"Y/N... please let me in."

It's Hyunjin.

And he sounds like he's hurting too

You sigh. You can't keep him locked out of his own room—not after everything.

So you reach for the latch with shaky fingers, unhooking it slowly.

The door creaks open, and before you can say anything, you're pulled into a warm pair of arms.

It's instinctive—his embrace. Solid. Gentle. Like he's trying to put you back together with nothing but closeness.

And god, it's been so long since anyone held you like this. Since anyone wanted to.

But you flinch. Push him back gently, palms against his chest, breath caught in your throat.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I— I don't even know you."

Hyunjin steps back immediately, hands raised in surrender. "Don't be sorry," he says softly. "I should have asked."

His eyes drop to the floor, voice quieter now. "I just... you looked like you needed it."

He shuts the door behind him slowly, careful not to make a sound.

"He's—" he starts, but you cut him off.

"I'll leave in the morning," you say, the words tumbling out too fast. "As soon as the sun comes up. I hate being a burden."

Hyunjin's eyes lift to yours, and they're heavy with something that makes your chest tighten.

"Please don't go," he says.

Not like a demand. Not like an order.

Just a quiet plea, raw and real.

You stand there, caught in the space between retreat and collapse.

Please don't go.

The words hang in the air between you like smoke. You don't know what to do with them. You've spent so long running, so long surviving, you've forgotten what it's like to be wanted—not for your usefulness, not for your silence, but for simply existing.

You cross your arms over your chest, more to hold yourself together than anything else. "Why?" you ask, voice smaller than you meant it to be. "Why would it matter if I stayed or not?"

Hyunjin steps forward, slow and careful, like he's afraid one wrong move will send you bolting.

"Because I've seen what it does to people—being alone too long," he says, voice low. "It turns survival into something hollow. It steals parts of you before you even realize they're gone."

He swallows hard, glancing at your wrist—at the place Chan grabbed you. His jaw tightens.

"I didn't bring you here out of pity, Y/N. I brought you here because when I saw you..."

He hesitates, like the words are too soft to survive the air.

"...I saw someone who still had something left. Something worth saving."

Your breath catches. You look away.

"I don't feel like I have anything left."

Hyunjin's voice gentles. "Then let us help you find it again."

You don't answer. You just nod, barely, and sit down on the edge of the bed like your bones finally gave out.

He kneels in front of you slowly, hands resting on his knees, giving you space.

"You don't have to let anyone in," he says quietly. "Not now. Not ever, if you don't want to. But this room is yours tonight. And so is the fire. And the quiet. No one's going to take that from you."

You stare at him. He's too kind. Too soft for this world. And yet, here he is—somehow still intact.

You reach for the blanket and pull it around your shoulders. "Just for tonight," you whisper.

Hyunjin gives you a small, worn-out smile. "Then I'll stay nearby. In case you need anything."

He turns to leave but pauses in the doorway, the firelight catching in the corner of his eyes.

"Thank you for opening the door," he says, and then he's gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

You feel something you thought you'd forgotten.

Not safety.

Not trust.

But maybe... the beginning of both.

_

short chapter!! I’ll try to upload the next part today, I already have up to chapter 14 written yall

[queenie-official]

Chapter Thirteen: ‘One Thousand Apologies’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

a/n: this chapter is a pretty short one solely because it leads directly into the next chapter and if i where to combine them it’d 100% would of been way to long😭😭 anyways hope you huns enjoy Xx<3💋

apologizing to Anakin was one thing. it was easy especially after you’d both opened your hearts to one another, apologizing to Padme however was going to be a completely different thing. everything was going smooth thus far since Anakin’s confession that morning, but you were nervous. you knew Padme and you knew she’d forgive you but you had this overwhelming guilt. it was eating you alive as you waited for her to arrive for the day. you twist the ring on your finger becoming lost in your thoughts as you await her arrival. not even entirely sure of what you were going to say or how to start your apology.

as soon as she enters the tea room you’re on your feet. she freezes for a moment processing the fact that your actually acknowledging her existence before carefully continuing in, closing the doors behind her. there’s an awkward silence as you both stare at each other waiting for someone to make the first move. you almost wished you could just pretend as if everything was normal and although you knew if you did do that she’d go along with it, you also knew she deserved better.

she was your best friend and the distance you wedged between the two of you albeit one sided- needed to be addressed. you clear your throat and gesture to the chair beside you wordlessly asking her to take a seat, she takes the offer. silently walking over to you and sitting down, you pull another seat directly in front of her to join her. still you both remain silent for a moment as you struggle to find the words, reaching forward to take her hands into yours as she had done to you days ago when trying to offer you comfort.

“Padme…” you force yourself to keep eye contact as you start to speak, wanting to show your sincerity. “i am so sorry, what i did was wrong. i should not have ignored you the way i did, it was childish-” she cuts you off before you can finish your sentence “y/n, i am not mad at you” she looks at you with nothing but pure sympathy. “i know you aren’t mad but it doesn’t excuse my behavior” she shakes her head at you “you where hurting and reacted accordingly, yes it wasn’t the best way to go about it but i understood- i understand” she squeezes your hands reassuringly.

“please let me apologize, i know you understand but you must realize you did not have to do what you did- what you’ve done. you stick beside me even as i pushed you away, you didn’t give up on me even though i would of more than understood if you had.” she gives you a gentle smile, letting out a soft chuckle “y/n you forget our friendship is not one sided, nor is it fragile. i will always be here for you the same way i know you will be for me.” you feel your eyes begin to water and just as quickly you are pulled into her arms. “thank you for the apology i appreciate it” she adds not wanting to brush off what you where trying to do. you both indulge in the hug for a moment, staying in each others embrace before pulling away and smiling.

you both can’t help but laugh. it felt nice, therapeutic almost. “i think we may have more important matters to discuss now” she says with a smile, leaning back in her chair. “like what?” you snort, shifting in your own seat to get more comfortable. “well for starters who’s responsible for finally pulling you out of your own head, who should i be thanking for giving me my friend back?” she’s smiling as she asks, giving you a look that you could only assume meant she already knew.

to be fair it’s not like there where many options for people who’d speak out to you. “You and I both know you’ve already got an idea as to who it was” she laughs, turning her head to the side and gestures silently over to a few of the castle servants. they work quickly, moving the small table to where you both where sat. setting up a small tea party for you both, one of the servants pouring you both a cup of tea adding in milk and sugar to your likings. “of course i do but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to hear you say it” you can’t help but roll your eyes, bringing your cup of tea to your lips before taking a sip. she gives you a smug smile before mirroring your actions.

“what else did you want to discuss?” you ask curiously, she hums for a short moment as she thinks to herself. “we have to address the situation publicly…” you feel your heart sink, looking down into your tea cup to stare at the liquid in order to avoid eye contact. “you don’t have to do a announcement if that’s what your worried about- there are other ways we can go about this matter y/n” you take a deep breath, looking back up at her and placing your tea down. “i don’t have to do an announcement but if feels like i should, a murder and attempted one is not something that can just be so easily looked over”

“well there are ways you could do so indirectly” she quips perking your interest in an instant. “how so?” she places her own tea down now, sitting a bit straighter before she begins. “let’s start with the council members. forget an announcement, skip straight to punishing them and let the news come out in articles as it usually would. then simply replace them, business as usual. you’re the queen, the people already know what’s happened there so there’s no real need to address them in particular.” you nod carefully taking in her advice, tapping on the table beside you with one of your fingers as you think. “that leaves us with one thing”

“addressing your fathers murder and the attempted murder on Anakin” you nod letting out a sigh, leaning your head into your palm. “i don’t feel as if you have to address it head on. write a statement about what happened to your father and have it printed and released in the papers” you purse your lips in thought “but what about the attempt on Anakin’s life?” Padme goes silently, briefly contemplating what you could do to address it while also avoiding the spotlight. “maybe not a statement with words but a gesture, something to show you and him aren’t going anywhere nor are you scared. even though you are but they don’t need to know that.”

a gesture? what could you do to act as a gesture big enough to garner everyone’s attention whilst simultaneously showing there’s nothing to fear.

Anakin sat directly beside you, Listening carefully as you and Padme explained what you’d been discussing. you’d called him in for more than just coming up with an idea- actually you’d already figured out what you wanted to do the problem was you didn’t know how to execute it without his help.

“so you need help coming up with a gesture then?” he asks curiously running a hand through his hair as he thinks. “Yes-” “No-” you and Padme both speak at the same time, her turning to you in confusion when she hears you say no. you keep your attention on Anakin however as you speak “do you remember when we discussed the things you liked about your kingdom?” he blinks a few times processing your words as he thinks back through your conversations, the gears turning in his head. you watch as he visibly lights up once he realizes what you’re hinting at “The Races?”

“Yes!” you exclaim happily now turning to Padme to see if she was beginning to see where you were going with this. she seems more curious than anything, which to be fair you didn’t have horse races in Alderaan so it made sense it hadn’t clicked for her yet. “It’s a big event that brings together a lot of people. pretty much anyone can participate as long as they have a horse to ride” Anakin begins to explain the details behind the Tatooine tradition, happily reciting the rules and regulations.

“it’s the perfect thing that could unite the people and us, a public event for the Ton to participate in and if Anakin raced as well then it’d also serve as a way for us to show we aren’t afraid. let them know we’re with them. we could add a Ball as well, so that we can socialize and maybe give a brief statement?” you suggest the idea to the both of them, Anakin grows more excited at the mention of him being able to participate. Padme seems completely onboard as well, perking up at all the new info.

“i think this to be a wonderful idea, and in all honesty you could probably use the excitement of the whole event to sweep this under the rug. at the end of the day its up to you of course” you nod at her comment. there was a lot to think of and a lot to take care of if you wanted this to happen and for it to be successful. you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled over all of the fear and doubts. Anakin seemed to be even more excited than you, tapping his foot against the ground ready to jump up at any moment.

“well for this to work we’d better get started now, i believe we have a letter to write.” you say with a smile as you turn to Anakin.

part 14

tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

this chapter was a bit short but the next chapter is going to be very long ☝️ not to mention possibly a big milestone for reader and Anakin👀 it’s either going to happen in this next chapter or the one after 💪 but anyways love you all and i hope you love reader and Padmes friendship as much as me💋💋 oh and one more thing, i hope you guys haven’t forgotten about Barclay 🌝

[lonelysucker7]

Strangers on a Train

☂️ Chapter 5 ☂️

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader

Summary: You’re just an average person making their daily living, surviving adulthood as it is. You live in Houston, Texas where even the hero the Scarlet Spider lives. And then there’s a guy, who looks like he’s gone through hell, on a train you’re crushing on.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Profanity, fluff (this is a rather tame chapter.)

Note: 5/21/25

So…It’s come to this huh? Back to this fic a good 1 year and 3 months. I knew should’ve planned this out before jumping in the wagon on this journey. Maybe that’s a lesson I’ll learn now for my pantser habits. But finally after so long here it is. Chapter five.

I've seen a particular reader and their enthusiasm for me to continue this and here I acknowledge them my thanks. Thanks for keeping me motivated despite being away from here, reminding me to put a new little sentence that I hoped was a good one 🙂👍. To post soon to share with you and others. Thank you.

Folks...I don't know if I'll do chapter 6, cause I can't seem to be good at keeping promises anymore. Definitely not abandoning this fic. Please, please don't ask for updates because I don't want you all to be anticipating or anything and I want to keep my worries at a minimum. My life has been becoming awfully busy. And I write for fun, share for fun, so please don't demand.

Now...Enjoy.

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🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫🔴⚫

He sees you coming in.

False, his eyes remain shut. Even without that sense he knows it's you. The footsteps you take entering inside the creaking cart; mixed with the rest of the passengers' send faint vibrations beneath his feet. 

Careful. 

Steady. 

Rushed. 

Always trying not to screw up while still calling dibs on the first seat; pushing yourself within the crowd. The seat across from him. Near the exit, wanting to be the first out...

It’s so weird.

Driven from the drowsiness of last night, his mood now leveled between not giving a damn and what could occur in the next thirty ish minutes. Usually he'd attempt to play it safe and continue “sleeping” till he wakes up.  Guess not today. 

Weighing his heavy leg over the other, the stiffness it carries makes him feel dull in his seat. That, and a fearing feeling that if he had the energy to laugh he could. 

Unwillingly he has memorized it. Your steps. A habit that became familiarized for the last few months. Maybe it was patterns, and yours was the easiest to distinguish. Predictable even. Should you be lucky? He wasn’t sure. Not when it reminded him of his past—and current—habits. Tracking down enemies and allies alike. 

Both corners of his lip twitch down. Thoughts like these come up numerous times; it is only fair the question gets answers from you. No point getting his assumptions ahead of anyone's really. Till now it's hard to forget the day you became part of his memories.

…So weird.

Yesterday took him by surprise. Not the usual heavy rain of Houston's weather and not even the semi emptiness of the train. Reading the room, obviously, wasn't his greatest skill. 

The moment you arrived you looked damn near close to pissing your pants. But a brief glance and he was about to demand— ask, if you had been hurt. If you were still hurting. There was also fear. A feeling he recognized all too well.

The back of his teeth grinds down, threatening to break. The brief scrape of the wisdom hurting the skin. Gears in his head changed to replay the day he ran off, like his time was running out despite there not being a danger.  All while he wouldn't dare to admit it aloud. The real truth. No danger. Not even the stuffy train…just an overwhelming amount of guilt. And—the alleyway.

The muscles in his body screamed to get up and run out. His face felt the levels of his blood drain and quickly thoughts fast forwarded back to yesterday— the complete 360 carrying several apologies laid on the table, disclosed miscommunication…And then that strangely hopeful ending. The new taste of conversation between you two had been better than what he expected. It was tiring. But he listened; he answered. 

Like last night, he remembered he was forgiven and the smile returned to your face; awkward but reassuring to let him know you were at peace. Even now he couldn’t believe it. Amidst the storm there was a light, one where a subtle acknowledgement had been established and you were doing better. A goodbye where your eyes held a quiet strength, a genuine smile and gratitude that would make him feel all sorts of mixed feelings. He contemplated a lot later last night he remembered. The good and the bad… but mostly the good.

Which might be bad.

Now? You seemed to think he had promised you more information about himself. Back home, the telepathic girl did an excellent job reminding him, her voice imitating his words 'saving that for tomorrow.' A shiver went down his spine. It's like he signed a waiver to bare himself again to the world. Hell he only said it because he couldn't tell you to screw off and mind your own business. Right? Yet the telepathic girl insisted on giving you a chance. Just one. She knew she saw something different this time buried within him, and still made him unsure. Enough to leave his hands trembling.

"Let me come with you! Maybe I can see for myself they--"

"Absolutely not." 

Everything was falling back to step one. He knows better than to talk with some stranger and share his space. Every question thrown he's dodged it before. He owes them nothing.

"Oh goodie. You'll think about it." The telepathic girl mused both out loud and in his mind before breaking her contact with a pillow. The longest 'god damn it' stretches in his head. Fine. If all went to shit, screw it and ditch the train.

Internally his head fell in his hands. Man, what was he thinking. Nothing good could ever come out of this. Whatever he’s hoping for. Whatever he doesn’t want to name. He’s bound to ruin it. He can’t keep his hopes much nowadays or else they come crashing down with utter depressing shit.

He’s depressing shit.

It’s 8 something in the fucking morning. Shut up.

He hasn't opened his mouth the whole morning. The sounds of people shuffling and laughing over others rose around him almost like an invisible force engulfing him. It made him feel smaller, however he wouldn't dare shrink. Because here he was. The definite decision was now. Desperately needing to get out of his head before he could drive himself even more crazy with his silent war. He'd cling on to the sliver of his thoughts hoping maybe that this is a good thing. Or not.

Maybe riding this train alone to work had always been a bad idea. Hiding in the corner of his little world and no one bothers him as they should. Yes it was better this way. They wouldn’t know who the stranger on the train really is. What he’s capable of, the bloodshed—

“Excuse me… sorry…”  

He snaps back to the present, body barely showing the jolt he gives in his seat. The sound of your murmuring voice apologizes to the other passengers. He sensed you navigating through the narrow-ish corridor of the cart, hearing the smile in your tone. He huffed under his breath, unclenching his jaw and relaxed the tension in his crossed arms. The smell of new coming sour sweat infused travelers burned his nose and his senses immediately refocused back to you. The shuffling across the empty seat from him already creaking with its weight lets him know you’ve claimed dibs. Congrats.

As usual you kept to yourself in silence save for the occasional tapping of your foot. An involuntary flutter made its way in his heart, picking up your light broken whistles over the growing crowd trying to drown it. He keeps his eyes closed but the long lashes barely open to take an extremely small peak of you; a blurry silhouette closing the umbrella from part two of today's showers. It’s been a weird week full of wet, and to himself he wondered if it meant something. No he wasn’t superstitious. But the universe was funny enough to set him up in the most unusual of situations. Your silhouette sits up straight, finally facing him. There’s a full minute of silence, and outside the train roared to life as the automatic voice of the woman indicated the next stop.

"You know you're gonna get a neck ache if you keep sleeping like that." You started with a playful cautionary to his direction. There was a faint noise of a throat being cleared in the background.

Inside his soul he felt it quiver; a sudden turmoil churning in his stomach would've made him gag. His eye cracked open, and he shut it quickly before you could notice.

Jokes on you idiot, they saw.

"Good morning." You spoke, still so gentle and light with humor. His right gloved forefingers pinched firmly the bicep of his leather covered arm, thinking the muscle ramming in his rib cage might cause a cardiac arrest. He needs to keep sleeping.

He has to.

...

...

... Damn it.

“…Mornin’.”

.........................................................................

You watch as he cracks open one eye, a cautious flicker meeting your gaze. His posture is slumped, leaning heavily to one side, head almost tucked in his shoulder that you swore would've been at a painful 90 degree angle. He sits still, the tension in his body palpable, giving himself a moment to think of his next move.

With a decision made up, you observe the shifting in his seat--uncrossing his legs with a slight grimace, he stiffened when his right side of his leg made small contact next to the passenger. A small smile silently giving a ‘told you so’ broke through your lips as he reached back, his gloved fingers brushing the skin behind his neck, tenderly rubbing the nick there.

“Sorry, I had to wake you up. It looked like a good nap.” You lament with a smile, observing him get rid of his sore. His hand moved from behind his neck, sliding it over his mouth and stifling a yawn. The faint sound of his breath fills the space making you wonder what kind of night he went through to keep him so tired this morning. He shrugged, seat creaking as he reached down for his usual worn out backpack.

“Needed it either way. Thanks.” He mutters gruffly.

Again the silence fell on you both, both of you crammed in your seats with people next to each other. He rummages in his bag and pulls nothing out. Outside it was thankfully dim as the rain clouds kept pouring. The umbrella survived another wash, but you seriously needed a new one. Unlike yesterday the smell of faint foul humidity wafts in your nose, but your focus remains on him. He returns his backpack underneath, protectively his heel guarding it and busies himself massaging his neck again.

“Bringing a pillow on your next trip wouldn't be so bad. Thought of that yet?" You comment, still surprised by the progress this conversation has carried on to, a feeling of ease washing down you. It didn’t seem he was reluctant to answer anything. Yet.

"I’d be crazy to bring--" He stopped himself. "I mean... fair. Yeah. I'll think about it." He met your eye with a neutral expression, and you leaned a little forward in your seat. The train kept on its path, rocking both of you in your seat. The duffle on your lap feels heavy, droplets of the rain clinging onto the material. The lighting inside the cart continued to be a dull white, one of them on the end of the opposite cart flickering inconsistently. The rumble of thunder passively passes outside the vehicle, heads around you turning and pointing above.

It encouraged you to do the same, asking the man, "Storm was pretty wild last night. Think that's what left you tired last night?"

His eyes wander above for a second, searching, before he lowers his head. "Something like that."

He appeared to have his appearance somewhat disheveled, his hair a little longer again where there was hardly a buzz cut. Now a comb could be used to brush some strands in his hair. The detail strikes you as odd having been one of many times the change isn't trying to hide itself anymore. It was almost concerning to say the least.

"Stress tends to contribute to the growth of hair." The pointer of your finger swivels at a distance to his head. "It was short yesterday."

Prying much? Better not to have asked that. You've come to notice he pauses when he's choosing his words carefully. Either to avoid spilling a 'secret', or has a consistent brain fart with an invisible loading signal above his head. Automatically he settles a flat hand on his head, the forefingers pinch and tug on the hair. Auburn eyes glance to meet yours; lower lid on the left eye twitching. 

"I guess I'm due for another cut." Pushing the hair flatly down on his head, the hand falls lamely on his lap. It began to tug the leathered glove of the other. The resurging silence hovered over the air; the feel of your mouth opening to say something; a joke maybe, but nothing comes out. Gosh, this was tough. Really seemed you had it all together for today, ready to jump in and engage. The energy though feels tiring. Something feels off.

You were right--suddenly you're met with his look of scrutiny.

"What?"

Another pause.

"Was that a funny way of asking if I'm alright?" He asks skeptically, shifting uncomfortably.

"The hair?" The chuckle bubbles out of you, a little wavering and you scratch your cheek. "Yes."

The hard gaze in his eyes was wary. Yet there is no hostility there.

"You're weird." He snarks, craning his head back a bit. Okay maybe a little.

A small noise resembling an irk rumbles from your throat, but instead of feeling offended you puff your chest a bit, inclining back in the seat.

"Me?" There's haughtiness wanting to tease him back, crossing your arms with a slight grin. Eyeing the first unusual, you remark, "Say's the one wearing gloves in the summertime."

The man grunts, fisting his hands underneath his arms as if attempting to hide them. It's useless since they’ve been obvious for a long time. He keeps them hidden anyway.

"So what." He states gruffly, almost embarrassed you even mentioned it at all. "Let me be." 

"Alright. Just seems we're on the same boat of weirdness." Both of you share a look of caution, you suddenly wonder if the teasing has gone too far. Your smile began to steadily wane. Usually it wasn't in your nature to let the tongue run amok with nonsense between strangers. It appears you've been comfortable doing just that in the last minute or two. Like a glass beneath you beginning to thin--nowhere to tread; instead staying stuck like on a chess board wondering whose piece would advance safely to the next square. And given the way his head hung a little, a hood darkened over his eyes you could almost see the thoughts mulling.

Fun's over.

"W-Well, I can’t assume you are weird. Sorry, I overstepped--" You're taken aback when the apology gets interrupted with his loud sigh. 

"I get it. I get it." A gloved hand returns back to his face rubbing the leftover sleep on his face, slowly stilling over his eyes. A split between the middle and ring finger opens; the narrowed eye peaks past them regarding you with an unexplained look. His much needed healing lips thinned letting you process your next thoughts with no hurry. Rather it's a blunt gesture but much like his character it's another mystery you find yourself intrigued by.

"That's the first thing you came up with?" He questioned, the resembling look of a scowl faint on his face. The train rattles slightly unsteady beneath you, making you reach out for the pole right next to you. Fingers clenched around the bar trying to control the motion of your body as the world closed on you both with tension. Or was it you who created it? 

"Obviously." The answer left from your lips, eyeing the individual across you with a guarded stare. To make the point you raise your palms up. They're already a little sweaty. Blowing puffs of air to each and grin at him. This wasn't a test was it? Because clearly you felt in trouble.

The man across from you nods a little, relaxing his hand from his face. He sniffles lightly.

"We're definitely not in the same boat."

…Yeah. That was probably true. And yet—

"How'd we end up going from a 'Good morning' to this?" Letting out a small wheeze, your hands cup your face, elbows coming to rest on your bag. "Ridiculous really."

"Yeah."

Yes it was ridiculous. But the nameless tension still doesn't go away.

"No seriously--" A hand leaves your cheek, gesturing at him. "Are you okay? Minus the hair and all that."

As you wait with a patient breath, the announcement arrives at the first stop. People shuffling and murmuring exit outside, new passengers entering inside. The crowd within minutes becomes a little larger and near the entrance, some backing up towards your direction. Loud rustling of jackets; wet and flapping create a new stuffy environment, and just like the past the other day; you silently prepared to make sure the man wouldn't feel intimidated by the crowd. 

"Can’t really tell.” A flicker of annoyance crosses his eyes, warily watching the passengers. “Doesn’t really matter.”

“If you don't want it taken seriously then it does feel like it. ” You answer solemnly, rubbing your nose with your knuckles. The latter meets your eyes; pinched eyebrows still strained on his forehead.

He’s silent for a moment, lips thinning and a wary look crosses his eye.

“Why do you want to know about me?”

“Sorry?” Physically you're taken aback.

“Yesterday. And the days prior.” He continues a little more, “You weren’t so subtle, y'know. Wanting to know about me.”

You were ready to answer, mouth opening. And you freeze. It occurred to you it had been aiming to talk and perhaps get his number. But now? You don't know what to say.

"Is there a right answer to this?" You inquire, your voice slightly going tight.

"No.” He crosses his arms, sternly continuing, “You've given me way too much attention than needed. And I want answers."

Woah. That urge to flip him off and, hell, turn the other way was there. Instead you frown deeply.

"Fine. I'm curious about you."

You raise an eyebrow when he scoffs.

"Not the answer you wanted?" Asking him, a little on edge.

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look away. For a second, you think he might shut down entirely. Instead he slumps in his seat, the lights above flickering.

"It wasn’t sugarcoated. I’ll give you that." He said softly. It was enough to lower your guard.

The train takes a turn, gently swaying you both forward despite that tension cranked to 10. Some people around you have briefly turned heads towards your conversation, and you shot them a glare.

"You're right. I haven't been subtle." Shifting a bit in your seat, you pause to listen to the rumble outside the train. It rips across the sky, and you smile. "And yes, I understand...we're also strangers."

"But I'm not trying to corner you. I haven't asked anything too personal or stepped out of line. Well--maybe a little."

He grunts out of agreement and you sheepishly shrug.

The trickles of rain started gliding past the windows, decorative diamonds glistening with the reflection of the lights above. The train entered a tunnel, the one that briefly blacks out for a minute. Suddenly, the lights blackout too, and it sends a couple of sighs and exaggerated murmurs around you. Across, his face is invisible by the light, darkness blanketing your vision but you lean a little forward in your seat.

"I don't know you. But I want to. Believe it or not, I am curious about you." You say, half whispering it to him.

Sliding a hand to your chest, the heart beneath the muscle and skin beats faster than ever. The train rattled, shaking its metallic engines and the chugging skipping stones beneath. And the memory of him asking his concerns about you. That look of regret and...and something else. 

"And let's face it--you're also curious about me too."

A quiet stillness shook the cart. The turn of the tunnel ends, abruptly shedding light in the carrier.

And meeting his eyes makes you hitch your breath. They're dull, but no doubt something scared him. Pupils are dilated. Eyes on the edge of widening. He's scared.

"You haven't answered why." He comments quietly.

And you can't help but smile a little, your eyes becoming a little watery.

"You reached out. I'd like to do the same."

There couldn't have been any other answer by that. Not even for a dumb phone number. You really liked seeing him.

His demeanor seemed to be like the flicker of a waning candle. It was sad. Yet, a flame kept itself clinging with the last of its life.

"...A year and a half. That's how long I've been living here."

His eyes look away, and he rubs his neck. The response was curious to you as it was out of nowhere, but before you could ask, he adds, "It's what you wanted to know. Yesterday."

Right...Right!

"And I want to know if you're okay. Can I ask that too?" You chuckle, crossing your arms, expectantly waiting for that answer too. He huffs, looking down at his boots; almost kicking the ground.

"I'm okay. More or less." 

You give a firm nod, smiling a little more. "More or less is fine."

The train began to slow down, the passengers gathering their things and began to make their way to the door. The announcement came up, and it was close to his station. A wave of sadness washed over you, disappointed the time was running out. Making progress and now it is ending.

"Want gum?"

He asks suddenly, and you're a little caught off guard again. It (and he) were really doing that to you all day. The clouds on the other side of your window started to break, and the sun started to shine.

"What kind of flavor is it?"

"Hope you're not picky, but it's, uh--" He pulls out the box from his pocket and a bunch of other little receipts and gum wrappers fall out of it. He catches them with his hand, shoving them back. Messy.

"Cinnamon," he states. Ooh so he liked it spicy. Extending your palm out, and with a wiggle of your fingers, you say, "Yes please."

He tugs one out and places it on your hand. It's a little warm, and warm gum doesn't tend to taste good, but hey, this was good. Popping it in your mouth, you let out a sigh of enjoyment when the burn starts to settle. With a couple chews, that good burn brings out the flavor of spicy herb. Better than mint.

Licking your lips, you pause.

"What, do I have something in my face?" You ask, slightly self-conscious when his recognizable stare was narrowed. He shakes his head, mumbling 'nothing.'

Resuming your chews, the hand in your paper crinkles gently.

"So a year and a half in Houston huh? I've been here for 6 months." Fingers began to bend the wrapper, closing it to a square. "I'm afraid I've run into trouble as a non-native here."

"Yeah? I suppose it's the train transportation for one." 

A rumble laugh gets to you. "Yes! It has been. Gosh, I...I'd drive instead." You fold the edges, making sure they are equally neat.

"Why don't you?"

Because I wouldn't see you.

"Eh. Traffic is hell. You?"

You pause when he clears his throat, looking elsewhere.

"I...can't." He forces that answer out, and it makes you grin sympathetically. "Train gets me to work faster."

Humming with agreement, the paper wrapper takes the shape of its own mini transportation. "I bet. It does for me too." 

Fact he can't drive is a little endearing to you. And it's nice to hear someone taking alternatives rather than just driving. Or making fun of you for it. A small pause to catch your breath. "Where do you work?"

The question felt childish, though it felt right to ask. Hell, it felt like it was leading to that. He saw it coming to, though hesitant when he responded, "Package room. Kinda."

"Kinda?"

"At a construction site. It's temporary."

Ohh. You nodded, not totally unimpressed and straightened out the wrinkled edges of the wrapper. The gum in your mouth burns greatly.

"It's an honest job. Good for you."

At that, he snorts. Meeting his eye gives you some reassurance he looked...proud at that. Like it made his day.

"It is. And where do you--?"

The announcement abruptly announces the stop, and he sighs frustratedly, amusing you when he clenches his fists.

"Swear to God that announcement will kill me one day."

Still though, you laugh. It makes him fume more on his end, watching your body shake and your eyes water, and he reaches for his backpack.

"Wait! Wait, don't go just yet." You say, coughing, and he stops just as he stands up. In your hands, you present to him a small paper boat. Made out especially from his gum. He eyes it warily, and the tips of his gloved forefingers collect it. He's surprisingly gentle as he turns it over.

"This an inside joke from earlier?" He gruffly asks.

Funnily enough you hadn't considered that. It made your cheeks burn a little, and a hand scratched your hair.

"No. The opportunity presented itself I guess. Glad you remembered."

He eyed it a little more, and closed it in his palm. "It's nice." 

He nods at you a little, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "Thanks. Now this will remind me how today went."

Tilting your head towards the door, the cart is half empty and you knew you had to let him go. He didn't seem to be in a rush, though he had been. If it'll remind him of the day, then it would for you too.

"That a good thing?" You breathed softly, returning to stare back up at him. How could you not ask? He still left you intrigued, and even more now that you both came this far. And the gaze in his eyes seemed to soften the scars around it. The train began to refill back in, and you quickly gestured him out before he could feel overwhelmed. But he doesn't budge. His lips thin, carefully thinking how to respond and he nods firmly.

"It's hopeful. I count that... as a 'good thing' in my book."

With that he casts his sights to the door, muttering 'cuse me', and swiftly avoids bumping the other passengers. Your eyes never left his figure, even when he was gone. The sudden weight of trepidation among other things becoming something of the past. The gum in your mouth burned less.  

Shifting in your seat, you look at your still hands.

"Holy shit...we fucking did it."

Next: Chapter 6

Previous: Chapter 4

[saltyyuuri]

✨Wedding Crasher✨

Iso x fem!reader

Part 2

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

words: 3300

Warnings (will be copy pasted in all the chapters, the ones with nsfw of course are going to have a clear marker.) : mentions of toxic relationship, foul language/terms and nsfw.

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Seeing as you were all in a Time crunch to execute each of your plans, the very next day you were all already starting to work it up. Phoenix was already hanging out with Aurelia today, seeing as she seemed to trust him they were chatting up a storm. Iso was going to go on a mission the next day so Jett would be able to do her part and follow Aurelia around, see if she's doing any funny business in Iso's back.

You were already marching down towards Cypher's office, having a plan in mind and knowing you'd have a price to pay. It did make you a little nervous since you didn't necessarily have a ton of funds yourself, you know that Jett and Phoenix said they could help pay up if need be-but you would like to avoid that possibility. But with Cypher-nothing was guaranteed.

So you knocked on the Moroccans door, letting out a soft exhale to try to damp in a bit the stress that was building in your stomach. Your notebook was tightly clutched against you as you waited. "Come in!" He called out through the door, and you pushed open the door slowly. The fully masked man was already sitting at his desk facing the door, already prepared and ready for your arrival as if he knew. Of course he knew, he was probably checking the cameras honestly.

"what brings you here my friend?" He asked as soon as the door shut behind you. You paused for a second before deciding to go sit down in front of him at the desk before speaking. "It's a particular demand. I'm just hoping the price won't be too high." You started to say-already seeing the mechanical eyes on his mask starting to narrow. You didn't know if you should be nervous or excited, since if there was something to dig up you knew he'd be able to.

"Go on, I'm curious now. What is it exactly you want to know?" He continued on, his elbows now on the desk as he leaned forward, supporting his chin with his gloved hands. "Well- I want to know about Aurelia's past. Specifically her past encounters like boyfriends ex-boyfriends hookups-and medical records." You cut to the chase immediately and just came out with the direct demand.

"that is all oddly specific. Why the though investigation on iso's fiance?" You knew the question was coming so you knew you have to answer truthfully. Anyways, anything other than the truth considering your demand would probably sound pretty weird. "I think she's up to something behind his back. She's rushing him to marry her-like they haven't even been dating for a year and she wants the wedding within 3 weeks. She's always asking for expensive presents and she's always out when he's not here. Something about it all is starting to irk me." You explained pretty briefly-but also hand it over your notebook so he could see what you had brainstormed with Phoenix and Jett -and what the other two were up to.

Cypher read through it with some interest; drama itself wasn't usually the first thing he would go for when it came to Intel, but just like pretty much anyone else it always interested in quite a bit. "Hmmm.... When you put it like that it does seem pretty suspicious. Considering that very obvious crush you had on him too-you of all people would notice." Cypher hummed out-shutting the notebook before he chuckled slightly at what he said. Your cheeks tinted a bit pink, not really expecting him to pull out that card right off the bat.

"it's not that obvious- or... Well- wasn't that obvious-" you started it to say before shaking your head almost immediately after. "That's off subject. My feelings aren't relevant right now; I just want to make sure he's not going to marry somebody who's either cheating in his back or gold digging. Worse if it's both." You said with a sigh-trying to bring it back onto the main conversation you came here for.

"yes, yes. So you want a full background check on Aurelia including her medical records. I'm assuming you're looking for STDs? Any previous treatments for them-" Cypher was assuming all of that before you had cut him off. "Yes. And I'm also going to ask Sage if she can run some blood tests on the two ASAP so she can also run some STD tests. Because if she previously had one and it still comes up the same-that's fine. But if she had one and got it treated, or none at all, and all of a sudden it's not clean? Now that would be proof." You explained one of the parts of your own investigation, one that itself would be undeniable.

"and as to why I want you to look into her ex encounters; I'm hoping if one of them is a side piece at the moment-that we could maybe sneak in to the wedding to make her sweat a bit. If she's nervous and starts blabbing, she'll rat herself out. If not we can always make the ex talk." You finished off with a proud hum. "Phoenix is trying to get her to blab at the moment, Jett is going to follow her around when she goes out to see if she does have a side piece. We're going to keep as much proof as we can-considering we only have 3 weeks."

Cypher nodded quietly as you explained it all, leaning back in his chair once we were done, fingers drumming onto the desk. "And I suppose you already know my services aren't free?" He finally asked, a slight hint of smugness in his voice as he spoke. "I know... Just name your price and I'll figure out how to pay it." You said, still internally praying that it wasn't going to be too expensive. Cypher seemed to ponder for a moment about the price, as if debating whether he should make it rough or not.

"100$. And I want a front row seat to watch the drama unfold at the wedding." He finally said, Crossing his arms as if he was making a multi-million dollar deal. You paused for a moment as you were just surprised-you were expecting something more in the thousands and not him to be that interested in knowing how this ends up. You blinked a few times and stayed silent as if you were just waiting for him to say it was a joke. "So? I can also make it $1,000." Cypher spoke again when silence was starting to stretch out.

"No-! No I'm sorry I was just expecting you to make me pay the $1,000 if not more... And not be so invested in the drama-?" You said confusedly-shaking your head slightly as you spoke. The Moroccan only chuckled. "It's not every day you get some sort of drama like that. You got me curious-and you're getting a lot of people into the investigation. I want to know how this all ends up." You knotted even if you were still a bit baffled by the outcome of his offer. You did however pay up, sending a money transfer for the $100 he had asked.

"well hopefully I'm right with that feeling-at least I will make it worth your time." You said as now you were just having slight doubts; cuz if you were wrong you might just piss off Iso quite a bit; risking the friendship that you work already losing because of Aurelia. It was almost as if at the moment you were realizing that this was a Gamble-if you succeeded you risked him being mad at you for a while but at least your friend wouldn't commit a huge mistake. But if it failed? You completely lost your friend. At the end of the line it just felt like no matter what you would do damage would be done.

You let out of shaky exhale, shaking your head slightly. This time Cypher is the one that spoke up. "You know, gambling away your own relationship is one hell of a stake. But the higher the stakes the better the rewards sometimes. I just hope your betting on the right thing." He hummed- and then decided to turn back towards his computer. The multiple monitors lit up in front of him as he just casually went back to work as if this conversation had never happened. You took it as your cue that it was time for you to leave.

As you were walking down the Halls after leaving cypher's office, you couldn't help but feel anxiety starting to grow. The stakes were high, at least for you. And you were starting to think about the possibilities; if you did nothing Aurelia would eventually get him to stop talking to you completely. If you did do something and you were wrong you would just speed up that process- but if you were right? You were hoping the outcome would be positive but there was still chances he could be pissed at you for meddling in his stuff. And the more you thought of it, the more you realize you would have to practically accept that after all of this there's high chances you wouldn't be able to be friends with him anymore.

And that possibility hurts. It hurts but you also want to do what's right. And so you decided yourself to head towards Sage's office, continuing on with your part of the plan. The pit of anxiety in your stomach was still growing, what first felt like a small twinge now felt like a full knot.

Once at the medical wing, you entered the doctor office, waiting patiently in the waiting room hoping that Sage was going to be the one to come out first. At least you were lucky on that; the long black haired woman came in with a warm smile. "Oh! (Y/n), what can I do for you today?" You stood up, swallowing a bit roughly as you were trying to push down the stress that was building up. "Can we talk in your office? It's a delicate matter."

Sage simply nodded before leading you over towards her office; only a couple of steps away from the waiting room itself. The door shuts and you sat at the desk once again, hoping that she would also comply with what you were going to ask. You had already made up your mind that you were going to go through with this no mather with the consequences. "You look very anxious. Did something happen?" Sage finally asked as she broke the silence, sitting on the other side of the desk. "Well-yes and no. I was going to ask something actually-"

"Go on, I'm listening." She said in a warm voice, her expression relaxed as she tried to soothe you with just her presence. "Can you pass blood tests on Iso and Aurelia? To make a long story short... We suspect Aurelia is using him and might actually be cheating on him. I was hoping you could do the blood tests and pass an STD test- I asked Cypher to dig out Aurelia's past medical records so that we could try comparing and see if something's up." You tried to explain as best you could and hoping that Sage would try to do something.

"Well... I can't necessarily force a patient to do the test." she started to say, looking pretty serious. She paused what she was saying as if she was thinking about something. "But... Iso is due for his checkup soon enough. And since Aurelia is going to be joining protocol she also needs a checkup done. Our blood tests do automatically include an STD test." She continued on, as if she was trying to say she was going to do it but just in a way where it sounded like it was already planned-not like this was a whole investigation.

"however, I'm not allowed to disclose the results to you. That would violate patients privacy rights." Sage continued on with a serious face. "Oh I fully understand that and I already thought about it. But what I do know is usually when people are engaged, and they're consenting, you can share the results of the blood test to the two of them at the same time-like reading them out loud so the two of them can hear the results." As you said that you could almost see a twinkle in her eyes, as if mentioning that one single thing is what made her proud at the moment.

You were also slowly starting to realize a lot more agents seem to enjoy the drama than you would have expected. And a lot more agents were willing to cooperate to help than expected- you thought you'd have to work it into Sage of it more and reason with her but it already seemed like she was willing to do it as long as it was done correctly. "I like your way of thinking. I can definitely get that done." She said in a calm voice even though she almost had a look of excitement.

"there's one more thing though-" you added on before you forgot; watching as she paused again and looked at you curiously. "They're getting married in a little less than 3 weeks now. So we're on a time crunch to get this done-" you added on and hoping that it was still going to be possible. Sage's eyes widened, but then she had a look of determination before nodding. "Well it does turn out the yearly exam usually is done today on Iso-I wouldn't have a problem getting him in along with his fiance. And I could probably get the test results done within that deadline." She hummed, a small smirk on her face. You nodded in satisfaction with her answer, finally having a small smile on your face.

"thank you. In this case I'll leave you to it-I have to go meet up with Phoenix anyways later, he's been tasked with talking to Aurelia and seeing if he can get her to talk about stuff. Whatever he's going to get to make her say is going to be recorded and noted down anyways." You quickly said as you stood up, notebook back to being tucked around your waist, preparing to leave the medical office. "Of course, no worries. I'll just proceed with the standard yearly exam for Iso." Sage said with a smile, giving you a small nod as you exited the doctor's office.

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"Mate, I definitely got some juicy stuff for you." Phoenix said as soon as he entered your room; sitting on the end of your bed before tossing you your notebook so you could start noting. "She ratted herself out a couple of times-didn't say anything explicitly but there was a lot of things she said-" he continued to say almost urging you physically to open the notebook and start writing. You on the other hand were trying to just take the notebook itself and find a pen-you had previously been on a doom scroll on your phone to pass time-feeling like your brain was complete mush at the moment and you had to force it awake.

"okay okay hold on-" you mumbled out as you continue to look for a pen, before realizing you had one clipped onto the notebook and feeling a bit like an idiot. As soon as you got it in hand and you flipped to a bare page, you just rubbed your face a bit to wake yourself up. "Okay sorry continue-" you said and almost immediately he started talking.

"okay so when I got her talking about her shoes, and dear Lord that woman loves shoes too, she was talking about how she was really happy she could get a collection of Louboutins now because her ex-boyfriend can only afford a few pairs- and when I started asking her about that, sure she didn't speak too much about it but I was able to get something weasled out; she said he was a good guy but couldn't really give her what she wanted. But the way it was said with the context of things it was very obvious that she wanted money-and like you can kind of hear that in the recording itself. Oh oh and- sometimes she would hide one of her pairs Louboutins so that Iso can buy her a second one, and she pawns off the first one to make herself some extra cash on the side. But all the enough she kept circling back to her ex and I think there might be something going on with that and-"

"Phoenix breathe-I can't write that fast goddammit-" you finally said as you cut him off-taking a deep breath before you went back to very briefly writing down what he said. You weren't going to write it in exact detail since there was going to be a recording anyways but just at least leaving a brief idea of what he had gotten out of her. "Sorry it's just she said a lot of stuff and like I'm pretty sure paired with the right evidence can play against her really badly, and it's got me all excited here-"

"all right all right and you got the recording, so we got verbal proof of her saying it. Continue on but go a little less fast please-" you finally said as you caught up to everything he said in your notes. "Gotcha. So like I was saying, she was circling back a lot to her ex in the conversation, but like not in an overbearing way but in a 'mention him maybe one too many times in a very subtle way that could technically not be suspicious but since we're investigating her it's very suspicious' way-" "okay that's one hell of a wording for that phrase-" you butted in but still took note of what he said. "Well there's no other way to explain it other than saying it like that mate-" Phoenix continued with a pout, Crossing his arms.

"all right all right I get it; so she mentions her ex quite a few times, and seems to talk a bit about money and how she tries to get Iso to spend more for her own benefit." You briefly resumed what he said in your notes, watching as he nodded. "Yeah. And like I said in the recording you can just hear that there's definitely ill intention behind it." Phoenix continued with a hum. "Gotcha. Anyways the final version of all the proof accumulated is going to all be digital so we can give it out to Iso. You'll probably have to go edit the recording to cut out the unimportant parts, but make sure you leave at least a contexts around her answers-like your question to her or like a couple replies before to make ISO understand that was a casual conversation." You explained briefly before shutting your notebook, putting it back on the side of your nightstand while you sat up straight in your bed.

"yeah-I figured as much. I'll take care of doing that. Tommorow, Jett is going to sneak around and follow Aurelia when she goes out since Iso is going to be on a mission." Phoenix hummed. "Good-Sage is doing the medical exam on the two right now, I already got cypher to start looking into her past. I just hope we're going to get all the results before the wedding-"

Phoneix nodded, now having a slight sour look on his face. "I hope so too. I'd rather not lose my friend to some gold digging girl with an odd attachment to her ex." He sighed-leaning back on the bed.

[the-timeless-founder]

Promise Me

Chapter 2 of 5

let's gooo, part 2 is here... good God this one was a RIDE... @secretarykang as usual, let me know if there is any inaccuracies, I'll fix them immediately and I hope you all enjoy <3

All he sees is the pouring rain and the blazing lightning. He hears no thunder - the ringing in his ears has been loud and constant for a while now. Distantly, he recalls that he needs to push himself back up - try and call for his loyal dragon, and flee from the wrath of nature.

Yet still, his body refuses to move. It's as though each finger is as heavy as a boulder of dark stone, and suddenly, fatigue is all too present in his bones. The gash across his chest should hurt - is it the cold rain soothing his aches, or has he lost sense due to blood loss?

Time seems to have stopped. Or is it moving too fast? He can't tell. This is bad, that much is clear, he's losing blood still, and his vision is dimming ever so slightly. Is the battle still raging on? If so, why hasn't anyone come to finish him, or take him away? Did they presume he died from a simple mace strike and a fall off his dragon? The mere thought makes his blood boil.

Or it would, if he could keep his consciousness afloat for much longer. Somewhere between life and death, he can only comfort himself with one thought. That his father will come to his aid. He always appears when he needs him most. He won't fail him this time.

His vision goes black.

"Sae," Devyn calls, and he turns his face to her expecting gaze. Eyes puffy and red from the tears slipping, she can see his own grief - his own tears threatening to spill any moment now - and then speaks, "never once have you broken a promise you made to me. Now I ask of you to promise me again..."

He closes his eyes, and leans his head forward, so their foreheads touch. "Promise me that he will be back to us. I need you to promise me. Promise me you'll bring him back safely."

"I will do whatever is within my power to bring our son back, head and hearty. I promise you, dearest Devyn. But I must go now - we need act with haste."

"Yes. Of course. Take care, my love, and- and please come back soon." Devyn squeezes him in her hold one last time, before letting go. "I shall stay back and keep Silas and Aurora from doing anything reckless."

"Thank you, dearest. You always do right by us."

"Do not dally any longer, my love," Devyn looks to the storms in the East, "I can hear him... I can hear him call. He can not leave me. He can not leave us this way."

Saeclus has run dry on words to speak as he mounts Nocto, taking flight as soon as his hands connect with the feathers on his neck. He's sure Nocto can feel his urgency through their bond. And not just that. He can feel his anger, his regret, and most of all his fear.

A fear he has not felt in millennia. A fear so primal and heart-wrenching and painful, he can barely stand the reason he must feel it. The fear of losing a loved one. A child. His child. Their child.

His mind races back to Devyn - who had rushed into their chambers with an unbecoming hurry to her step - eyes wide in fright and worry and uncertainty. She had told him through choked sobs that Dante's squadron has been attacked, that they have sent their fastest eagles and ravens calling for aid, and how Dante is too stubborn to allow for eagles to be sent calling for aid.

She had insisted on coming at first, and it seemed impossible to hold her back until Silas and Aurora came to the main hall, demanding to be allowed leave as well. To search for Dante, to take their brother back home, and to unleash hellish fury on those who'd dared to try and take him from them.

It had taken all of Saeclus and Devyn's authority as their parents to keep them from doing anything reckless, and they agreed that should the both of them leave, then it was likely the siblings would follow closely behind. And a warzone is no playground.

Saeclus should know. He has been on countless. He has created and decimated countless.

Is this penance? If so, then the elder demons are crueler than God.

His thoughts come to a stop at the sight of a raging battle - blood splattering and metal clanking can be heard from all the way up in the air. He can not see Dante. Even as Nocto screams and dives down, hurling lightning from his wings at the Vibora outlanders, sending them ablaze or screeching from the pain - he can not see Dante among the fighting men.

His spear is in his hand before he realizes he's summoned it, and he jumps from Nocto's back onto the charging Vibora, sending five of their heads tumbling just from one swing. And causing the rest to recoil or freeze - they had not anticipated reinforcements. And they had certainly not anticipated him.

He has no time for this. He must end the battle this instant and begin searching for Dante. And presently, despite all of his self-discipline and so-called mercy, he could not care less for any of those standing in his way.

They will burn.

And they do, as a flip of his hand bursts the ground open, sending the company leading the aggression into the burning, blazing fires at the heart of the Earth. Screaming profanities and curses at him, the men are consumed by ruthless fire as the ground closes back up.

Saeclus speeds forward in a one-man charge - his eyes glow bright gold in such a terrible, powerful gaze that frightens the rest of them into a hurried flee. Even as he calls lightning down from the storm, directed at their backs, the Vibora run for their lives. They have caught a glimpse of the fury of the Timeless - and that single instance will haunt them into sleepless nights.

The Vampires who had been pushed back now push forward, out for the blood of snakes, but Saeclus could not care less for that. Or for them. Or for battles and victories and the other wounded. He has seen his son.

He comes to a halt at his side, shouting his name in a desperate cry. "Dante!" His arms come to the back of the younger man's shoulders and beneath his knees, carefully lifting him into his embrace. The wound on his chest is no laughing matter. Nor are the broken ribs and calves. Did he fall from his dragon? That is a plausible answer, yet Dante is the most skilled rider in their family—

No. This is no time for such thoughts. Life still dwells in his veins, that much Saeclus' magic can tell him, and that is all that matters. He shall heal and bandage him at the nearby camps, and then mount Nocto with him towards the mansion, so he can receive better care and medicine than he will on the front lines.

Rushing for the nearest medical camp in the storm, he misses the way Dante's eyes twitch open to see him for a moment, and fall closed again.

[macawritesupdates]

Writing Update 9/19/2024

Been a while since I did an update! Last week I was on jury duty and it MURDERED my writing time as I had to change up my day and it took longer to get home (mentally draining....)

Been back at work this week, but still has been draining, so less time to get things done, but trying to get back into the flow of things! Hopefully more updates to show soon!

REQUESTS

I will get back to those as soon as I clear up some other fics. Just got a lot of long fics (12 in total) and one-shots (like ...5 in total?) that I'm writing and want to finish!

READER INTERACTION FICS

Can't Help a Cuddle: It has 5k words in and that is just the spicy scene it is going to open up with lol It is going to end up being a long chapter as it introduces more plot and the like going forward! Hopefully will be updating soon!

Jealousy is Not a Good Friend: Also have it outlined and making good progress on writing it out so it should come out the same time or before Cuddle. Got some spice as always!

LONG FANFICS JJK

Broken in the Ways No One Sees: Going to speed run write out the last three chapters to the story as it one the poll for which one to finish first! I'll post chapters as I finish <3

When you Get Two Grandsons: Next chapter is coming and I'll be overhauling the tags to reflect the new developments! This story is remaining sweet and family feel wholesome!

Spouse Wanted: Experience not Necessary: the new chapter is NEARLY done and may be out tonight depending on how I finish up this last scene hehe! If not tonight, then going to be up tomorrow!

Lessons in Accidental Seduction: Eagerly writing out the next chapter! I'm excited for this one as it has nice character development and Sukuna really starting to work things out and he and Yuuji getting closer again <3

Malevolence of Love: Wanted to finish his fix before the 30th, but don't see that happening due to writing delays ; w ; BUT the next chapter is coming out and I know it is an anticipated one! Hoping it won't take long...

Who's a Good Boy: New chapter is in the works but not the priority fic at the moment!

The Yuuji Files: I am hoping a new update will happen SOON as I work through the scenes in this one. It is going to be a meaty chapter though as it has a lot of little plots going on in the B-plot area.

Careful What you Joke About: Also working on the next chapter now that the rewrites have been completed for the outline <3 I hope I haven't kept anyone waiting too long!

Mirrored Lives: Still need to rework and rewrite the outline and plot and get it to a point I'm more satisfied with.

LONG FICS MHA

What Sacrifices Heroes make that go Unsung: I WANT TO WRITE THE NEXT THREE CHAPTERS SO BAD AHHHH! I am going to push to make time to work on this one as ugh! I love it in my HEART so much and want to share ; w ;

A Rut Time of It: It is on the backburner as I get other fix worked out and finished up!

ONE-SHOTS IN PROGRESS

Pull Me Along if I Can’t Move Forward: Izuku/Bakugo sweet fic that is still in slow slow progress. Going to see if I can't finish it up soon!

Heatwaves and Curses Don't Mix: A pwp fic of Nobara/Yuuji/Sukuna with true-form Sukuna and his double dongs. Just pure smut for the heck of it that is slowly coming together

Playing House: Sukuita fic where Sukuna makes Yuuji play house like they did when kids but takes it too far. A pwp fic idea suggested when I was in the mood and is close to being done c:

Take Me to Prom?: Sukita one shot where Yuuji blackmails his cousin Sukuna to cross dress and take him to prom as his date. Shenanigans ensue

Once Upon a Blob: Sukuna, now Blobkuna, has a plan to get his body back and it involves the old fairy tale cliche of love's true kiss. Chaos ensures.

And That's When I knew It: A silly Uraraka/Kirishima one-shot where something horribly embarrassing happens and feelings are had (and spice XD)

FUTURE FANFICS IN PROGRESS

Culturally Inappropriate: Starting to outline the fic and name the characters who are going to be with Yuuji through the Possessed Anonymous group. Letting it build its own themes and feeling good about it so far!

This is the sequel to Historically Inaccurate and keeps moving with the themes and Sukuna and Yuuji building their relationship as vessel and and cursed spirit while also their personal healing. Gonna be good hopefully!

Law Meets Disorder: (Maybe changing to Law and Disorder for the title) Still mapping out my ideas but might get to finally finishing up the outline soon!

The Dragon Story: Still more an idea with more worldbuilding done than plot. Need to find a solid plot for it....

We Wretched Few: Heian Era court drama fanfic with an ABO flair to it that I've been poking around at :b

[doyoungzwrld]

Chapter 2.

More Chapters

taglist: @sunooqvrlsx @gvmttkk

TW:Self H*rm, Su*c*dal thoughts, being Dr*gg*d

Authors Note: I do not condone any if these things and if you or a loved one is experiencing these things then please contact help from the authorities and ask for help.

Sunoos POV

Ugh- My head…

Pain courses through my legs and arms and a ringing sensation echos through my ears.

I open my eyes and the light blinds me. The smell of the salty waters around me fills my nostrils and the suns harsh heat tingles my skin.

I sit up and notice that I’m not on the plane no more. I am stranded on a broken piece of the private plane in the middle of an ocean now, with no food, no drinkable water, no supplies, nothing…

‘How the hell did I get here?’

The events of yesterday suddenly come back into my mind, and now I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. My breath hitches and I can manage to croak out a cry from my dry throat.

flashback

I open my eyes after it went black and suddenly the plane was slowly getting swallowed by the deep salty waters around. The power went out…

As I look into the front, I can barely make out what is water and sky from how scarce the light is.

‘Oh no- What should I do?’ My hands tremble and I remember that there is an exit and a floatie in the back. I run past and the members are still asleep. What was in those snacks and drinks? Did someone try to drug us?

I grab the floatie and open the top hatch of the plane. The cold wind whips me in the face, almost making me lose my balance.

Luckily the floatie was big enough for all of us since it was huge but there is only enough space for 5…

Heeseung is nowhere to be found but the least I can do for my members is save them. They have helped me through so much and they are like my brothers.

As the plane slowly sinks into the water, I drag each member onto the floatie and I push them off and I stay onto the plane as I watch them float away.

A tear slips through my eyes and my chest tightens as I try to accept the fact that this is my last time seeing them.

“Goodbye, I hope you guys make it home safely, everyone back home must be so worried for us but tell them that I will be okay” I choke out as I try not to let my sadness pour out watching them leave.

I know they are asleep but it feels like they understood what I said. The ocean waves get rough and the only thing left exposed from the merciless ocean waves is the plane wing and it seems like it was cracked so I climb onto it and lay down on my back.

The stars look so pretty, its sad how I’m just now noticing this. The rocking of the wing reminds me of when my mother rocked me to sleep as a child. I would always cry for her whenever I was in trouble or hurt, but now– I cant cry for her. I cant cry out for anyone. The isolation from everything I knew makes me realize how much home meant to me, and that I will never be able to get that feeling back.

I close my eyes and sigh, hopefully I wake up to see another day.

flashback end

The overwhelming feeling from yesterday also comes back and my eyes sting with tear’s threatening to come out again.

On the bright side, at least I am alive. I stand up, but my legs wobble a little but I regain balance.

As time passes by, I just stare off into the distance wondering if there are people looking for the members and me. Then I start to notice a dark figure start to cast off into the distance. The wing draws it self towards it, like its a magnet….

I notice something is off when the calm movement of plane wing picks up and I start to grip onto whatever I can so I wont fall. The water starts to splash in my eye and soon the wing hits something hard and I fly forwards. My arms and legs flail everywhere so I wont drown expecting to hit the cold water and a wretched sounds from my throat. But instead, I hit something hard.

Well thats gonna leave a mark..

Once the pain from impact subsided, my fingertips felt something grainy. Then I noticed how hot it was. I jolted up immediately from the burning sensation and realized I was on land.

The joy I felt knowing I finally got in land but I remember how Im stranded in the middle of nowhere and I almost died.

I take in my surroundings and notice how big the island is; the skinny rough looking trees loom over,intimidating me. The darkness beyond it threatening to swallow me whole yet I still feel something calling me into the darkness.

growl…

My adrenaline and the traumatic events from last night made me forget all about how hungry I was. Looking around, I spot a coconut hanging from a tree but it looks too far to reach.

‘Maybe I should try to shake the tree to make it fall.’

I wrap my hands around the tree, my arms can almost wrap around the tree twice if I tried. The rough bark presses deep into my skin as I try to grip the tree harder and I sway the tree with all the strength I have even though Im tired.

The stubborn coconut resists the force shaking it. Finally I hear the coconut start to separate from the tree. The coconut fell and rolled out towards the ocean.

‘Oh no you’re not going to roll from me after all of my hard work to get you’

I scurried towards the rolling coconut and grab it just as the tide began to roll it deeper into the ocean.

‘I wonder if its safe to eat this coconut—of course its safe to eat a coconut’

I mentally face palmed myself for that dumb question but I was either going to die full or scared with an empty stomach. I slammed the coconut on the rough tree in hopes it would crack open. Minutes stretched into hours until I finally opened the coconut.

The sun was setting yet the heat was stubborn. The beautiful hues of red, orange, and yellows swirling made me slouch. I let out a hoarse sigh and a tear drop slides down my face, the tear also mirroring the sky’s golden hues and firey embrace.

Flashback

I hear sniffling and the sound of something scraping against the sink in the bathroom across my room, the reverb from the scraping and clinking causing it to echo through the thin walls of the dorm.

“Hyung…” I rub my eyes as my eyes adjust to the brightness of the bathroom,” what are you doing?”

As my eyes refocus I notice Heeseung hunched over the bathtub, frozen ridged as if he got caught stealing something. I then look to my right at the sink and see a broken shaving razor missing the metal part of it. I flicker my eyes back over to Heeseung and notice the red in the bathtub and immediately run to him. I slap the razor out of his hand nicking my hand in the process and grab him by the hand.

“Why would you do this to yourself—what happened?” I started to tear up and I didnt give hyung a chance to answer my question because after one question I would immediately ask another.

He clamped the hand he didnt cut over my mouth and shushed me with a quiet rushed tone.

“Please don’t tell anyone Sunoo, go back to bed, you are just dreaming.” He pleaded in a hushed tone to me. His eyes bloodshot red and nose runny. The look of defeat was overpowered by a look a desperation, Heeseung feared I would tell the others.

He led me back to my bedroom, lit a lavender scented candle and left shutting the door behind him slowly. Heeseung came back with a small glass of water and some bandages. I sat back up and opened the curtains to be met with the beautiful stars above. I stare out the window and wonder if what I just saw was just a figment of my imagination or real. How could hyung do this to himself, he seems like one of the most capable people in the group. The crimson liquid flowing in drain of bathtub looked real, the broken razor looked real, Heeseung clamping his hand over my mouth was real…

But why does it feel unreal?

“Here, drink this to help you sleep” He guided the glass of lukewarm water to my mouth and I drank it. I glance down at the glass and I notice it looks cloudy but I’m too tired to stop him from pouring the water in my mouth.

Once I downed the while glass, he left without a word.

My eyes become heavier and I give in to slumber. I hear my door slowly creak open again but I was too tired for care.

Flashback end

Maybe I should’ve done more back then, even if Heeseung looked fine after that incident. I never spoke up of it again but it lingered in my mind like a hushed cry for help. And the glass—he could never—but he could—it wasn’t regular water.

I need to look for a place to sleep. I thought.

I glance back at the dark trees behind me. Threatening to swallow me whole if I dare to step foot into its fortress. It looked more as if it were guarding something precious.

I break a branch off a tree and head into the woods, taking one last glance at the ocean mocking the sky.

The further I venture into the unknown, a familiar scent hits my nose.

What could this smell be?

tbc…

I’m sooo sorry for not updating for 2+ years. I have been busy with dancing, piano practice, college work, and high school work all at the same time. I will try to update chapters more since school is almost over.. Sorry if the chapter is a little boring, I had cut it short so you guys could have something to read, there will be a Part 2 to this chapter soon.

[ash-is-dying]

Mr Perfectly Fine: Chap 4

A/N: Smashed this one out. A bit shorter but just as good I swear. Heavily focused on Eddie's pov this time around. I promise he's getting better with a bit of help from his life coach A.K.A Wayne Munson. Enjoy!

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Chapter 4: Mr. I’ve Been Waiting For You All My Life

---

He fucked up.

He would never admit it in a million years, but he knew he had fucked up.

You hadn’t been around in a week. Even on his days off Eddie would come back and hear the others complaining that you hadn’t been in at your usual time. It was doing his head in and his pride wouldn’t let him tell them that it was most likely his fault.

Okay, maybe definitely his fault.

But it was a good thing. No dumb orders with a bunch of substitutions and additives, no analyzing eyes watching over him, no yelling or arguing or anger at all. So it was a good thing. Right?

But if it was so good why didn’t things feel right? He felt himself wondering why he was so off, he’d only known you for a few weeks and every interaction crawled under his skin and made it boil. He was happy to be rid of you. You were too familiar. Made him too nostalgic. Things should have gone back to normal by now. Key word being should.

If his own inner turmoil wasn’t enough, Wayne had also been up his ass every time they spoke. After college, at work, at home. The old man was a ninja. Okay so not Eddie’s best analogy but his point still stood. As soon as he had gotten you off his mind his uncle appeared shoving you right back to the forefront.

“Have you talked to her?”

“Did you say sorry?”

“You have to do something for her.”

“Get off my couch and go fix things Edward.”

God it was a living nightmare there was no escape from. When it wasn’t his own voice it was Wayne’s and vice versa, there was no reprieve.

The voices got louder when he lay sleepless at night. Her face and the tears in her eyes were stuck on loop as he reheard her shaky voice as she last spoke to him. The good part he has left in him regrets it all. Then again the good part of him wants to cry himself to sleep, go buy her a bouquet of flowers and beg for forgiveness. Like hell was that happening. But his mind kept returning to those lingering questions even he couldn’t answer. Why had he pushed her away? She had done nothing wrong and he had yelled at her because of what, her keen observation skills? Her relationship with his uncle?

Because he knew this feeling all too well.

By the time he reached that level he’d given up on sleep opting for a smoke and some coffee. Ain’t no way is he going down that road.

He made his way back inside dumping the cold coffee in the sink as Wayne walked out of his room stretching.

“You’re up early Ed. That’s the third time this week.”

Eddie responds with a grunt of acknowledgement, his eyes darting back to the sink.

“Something on your mind?” Wayne pauses putting his elbows on the bench. “Someone on your mind?”

That was a loaded question. It was very obvious what was on his mind. What Wayne was really trying to ask was what was he going to do about it? And the answer to that was the same as it was the last few days. Nothing.

Wayne sighs and they move around each other as breakfast is made. They both sit on the couch shoveling eggs into their mouths before they had to leave and open the shop.

“You wanna know the four steps to winning back a girl?”

Eddie chokes on his food as he registers these words. He swallows hard and clears his throat. “Okay well first of all I have no need for such tips and second of all I’m in no mood to hear uncle guru’s life hacks this early in the morning when I’m running on caffeine and burnt toast.”

Wayne chuckles. “First off the toast and caffeine is your fault, second, I’m telling you anyway because I think you need to hear it.”

He puts his plate down and leans forward making direct eye contact with his nephew. “Step 1. Break the ice. Step 2. Contact. Step 3. Talk. Step 4. Apologize. 5. Peace Offering. If a girl is mad at you she’ll put up a wall you just gotta charge through that wall. You do something surprising so it stops her from completely icing you out, then you make sure she’s okay with you getting closer again, you start to talk and get her to open up and finally you open up, she feels trusted and she trusts you then to seal the deal you give her something meaningful so she’s always thinking of you. Never fails. Munson guarantee.”

Eddie smiles shaking his head. “Munson guarantee?”

“Munson Guarantee. Works one hundred percent of the time and if it doesn’t then you get a full refund.”

Eddie stands collecting their plates. “I didn’t invest no money in this.”

Wayne stands and scruffles Eddie’s bed hair. “That would be the point my boy.”

Eddie finishes his morning routine in a relatively good mood, every few minutes having a laugh at Wayne’s girl advice.

Five steps to win you back.

Yeah right.

---

He’d been a selfish idiot and sat in his regular spot, placed next to yours. Only for you to walk in, see him, turn tail and sit in the front corner. He couldn’t stop the pang of guilt in his chest when you walked away even though he knew it was coming. The first class in the last fortnight where you weren’t nagging in his ear and he missed it. Nag is the wrong word. You don’t miss nagging. Maybe he just missed you talking to him. But you sat a metaphorical ocean away. He didn’t even have your number. There was no way possible for him to even begin to explain what was going on. Not like he wanted to.

So he moped. He sat with his feet on the desk biting his lip and letting his head fall back. Moping over the unexpected impact losing you had on him. No matter how brief and shallow your interactions were. Suddenly a pop up in the corner of his screen drew his attention. A black textbox with your name at the top.

An email.

A lifeline.

It was just about the project, the first few pieces of sheet music with notes and rewrites. It simply read ‘make sure you have your overlay done by next Monday for when I booked the studio.’ But to him it said so much more. He had a week. Maybe he could fix things.

Wayne’s list got into his head.

Step 1. Break the ice.

Eddie’s first thought of course is, make you laugh. He scrolled through his options for a good minute or so before finding something he had a gut feeling would at least make you smile. He found a gif of a cat typing on a computer with the caption ‘I’m on it!’. He smiled and sent it through, his eyes immediately drifting to you. It took you a few minutes but he watched as your mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly. A huff of amusement passing through your lips before you started typing again. A notification popped up on his screen, a reply.

‘Not funny.’

Progress is progress.

Step 2. Contact.

He didn’t really know how to make contact considering you had been keeping about a miles radius between you two. Luckily his chance came tumbling down some stairs. Quite literally. On your way out of class one of your books had fallen apart, pages falling to the floor. You were on your knees whilst the class had already passed you by. A hand appeared in front of you gathering the spill of paper. You looked up to thank the person it was attached to when you found yourself looking into familiar eyes.

“Thank you so- oh.”

Eddie swallowed holding his pile out to you. You immediately clammed up but took the pile and held it to your chest as you stood.

“Thanks.” You mumbled. He stood slowly to meet you before you walked past him and out the door. He thought that had made no difference until he found you no longer aimed to stay away. You no longer seemed wary of only words of harm leaving his mouth.

At least you weren’t shoving him away with a bargepole anymore.

Step 3. Talk.

Talking to you was evidently not his strong suit but he couldn’t have planned this better. He had your sheet music in hand, half assed notes of his own to make it look like he had questions and concerns. He would tell you he was curious about your style choices and needed an explanation. It was a perfect plan. Yet here he stands in front of you speechless.

“Couldn’t you have just emailed me?”

Shit.

“Well no my laptop crashed yesterday and I didn’t want to just not do the work so uh yeah.” Idiot.

You choose to ignore the fact that you saw him on his laptop in class earlier and you grab the sheet from his hands. You spend the next ten minutes going through his questions and correcting his notes. He fidgets as he sits listening to things he already knows. But you move closer. You point out his mistakes. You make eye contact. You finish your speech and look up at him tiredly.

“Don’t know where I’d be without you angel.”

“Probably be off torturing another girl somewhere.”

Your words hold no poison and he takes that as a victory, he smiles gently back at you.

“Probably. Probably”

Step 4. Apologize.

“Sorry what?” You replied, your face stuffed with a grilled cheese as you rip out your headphones. He was obviously interrupting. Oh well. Too late now.

“I was a dick. I’m sorry.” He said looking to the ground.

You put your food down and turned to face him. “Where’s this coming from? Been waiting for this Eddie all my life. Did your uncle have a go at you or something?”

Yes he did. But he didn’t need you knowing that. “No I just realized you were right. This work involves both of us and its easier when we can tolerate each other being in the same room.”

You sit in a silent state of shock at Eddie’s out of the blue maturity. “Oh. Okay then.” The silence continues as Eddie digs his shoe into the ground and you stare at your food. “Do you um- Do you wanna sit?” You gesture at the opposite bench.

His eyebrows raise. “Uh yeah. Yeah for sure.”

Maybe Wayne was right. It was that easy.

Just one more step.

---

At your usual table sat a familiar coffee cup. One with loafs of bread and leaves scrawled along the rim spotting this you instantly knew where it was from and who put it there. The real question was why.

You walk tentatively closer, eyes catching on the boy sitting in the opposite corner of the room chipping away at his black nail polish avoiding your eyes. Your attention then moves back to the cup as your bag slides off your shoulder and you reach for the cup taking a hesitant sip.

He even added almond milk.

You place the cup back down on the table and only then to you spot the hardly legible writing on the side.

‘Peace Offering?’

---

Taglist:

@micheledawn1975​ , @emma77645​ , @rustboxstarr​ 

[multifan2022]

Golden Lies 6

PSA- this chapter contais a near SA, its also pretty discribtive killing wise from here on out.. JS.. read at your own risk.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

The walk was silent and hot, so hot that you were getting dizzy at one point. Between the events of the day and starting to get dehydrated, you were really starting to struggle. Thankfully the sun started to go down, but as the light faded from the sky no moon replaced it. When you both decided to stop and set up camp for the night something caught your attention. 

“The temps are dropping rapidly. I bet they raised the temp and in the morning there will be snow.” You said watching as Hardin pulled the layers you had both stripped off, out his bag. He pulled his t-shirt on then layered it with his jacket. He nodded to your chest “We should try to clean that before you put something on. If it gets infected you'll die.” 

You shook your head, “We have nothing to–” Just as you went to continue but a small tinkle beeping caught your attention. Hardin stood and caught a parachute that had floated its way down to you. When he opened it there was a container with shimmering white cream and a note. 

A diamond is a chunk of coal that did well under pressure

When Hardin read it, he looked up at you confused before handing it to you. You shoved it into your pocket and reached for the cream. He shook his head and leaned down to you, using his free hand he tilted your head back. Small apologies fell from his lips as he rubbed the cream into your cuts. 

After a few agonizing moments he pulled back, clicked the lid on and handed your shirt to you. “Get some sleep, use the sleeping bag. I'll take first watch today.” You nodded, getting into the sleeping bag as small flakes of snow started to fall. Hardin pulled the gloves and hats out of the bag a few hours later. Putting his on then pulling yours onto your sleeping body. Now that he was sure you were asleep, he pulled out the bag of pills. 

Dropping the last one into his palm. He knew by the way his body reacted when he needed them. So he knew it was pushing day six or seven in the real world, even if it only felt like three or four in the arena. He knew he only had a few more days to get you to the win. “Eleven more to go.. Then you're going home Y/n.” He said quietly to himself. 

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, the temperature started to rise again. But this time it was unbearable. The leaves on the trees started to wilt, the trees themselves hot to the touch. You actually had to stop walking at a few points to try and cool down, but it was impossible. The air was dry, and every breath felt like you were swallowing dirt. Without water you would both soon pass out from dehydration. 

While you and Hardin were laying under the roots of two trees trying to cool off you heard a laugh. Twigs snapped next as you looked over to Hardin, he was asleep. You slowly moved out from under your tree, the metal of your sickle handle burning your hand as you tried to grab it. Having unknowingly laid in the sun, it became unusable to you. 

Since you had stripped off your pants and were walking in your tight shorts and sports bra you had literally no weapons on you. It was stupid, but your brain wasnt function well in this heat. You walked just enough steps away from where your friend was soundly hidden and scanned the area. You were far enough away you could see his tree, but someone who didn't know he was there wouldn't. 

“Ahh.. 9 did not expect to see you here.. Especially not so much of you.” It was the male career from 2, he had no weapon that you could see. But that didn't mean much, they were just as deadly with their hands as they were with a sword. “Where's your little friend? We had a bet on how long he would last. You'll be all alone once I kill him.”

You had been scanning the ground as he talked. Looking for anything that you could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. He took a step forward and you took one back, “Before I kill you.. Why don't you tell me what your weapon of choice is.. That way I can kill your friend with it.” You spotted a pile of cut up logs at the base of a tree, probably to trick someone into making a fire. You slowly started turning and stepping towards it. 

Bauer thought you were trying to circle him, so he stepped opposite of you. But he didnt know he was just helping you get right where you needed to be. He thought you were weak, you could see it on his face. Which would play out to help you just like it had before. “Well I was hoping to see a scythe.. I didn't see one in training, and there wasn't one at the cornucopia. But maybe one of your sponsors will send you one.” 

He laughed again and shrugged “Bye bye 9” he ran at you grabbing your shoulders and kicking his knee into your gut. Quickly recovering you allowed him to push you to the ground, shuffling back on your hands until he kicked your chest. The cuts that had almost healed thanks to the medicine breaking back opened instantly. He dropped down on top of you, his legs straddling yours. 

He smiled down at you as his hands found your wrists. You lifted your hips trying to get him off you but when he groaned you stopped moving completely. “Maybe we should have some fun first..” 

The command center fell silent, all the game makers and assistants waiting for someone to say something. None of them thought the games were wrong, but some of them were hesitant at the actions and words that Bauer had just spoken. Where they really going to let a sexual assult happen on national televison? Wasn't that pushing the line? I mean kids watched this show.

Haymitch stood from his place at his monitor, Chaff next to him in the chair watching as his friend white knuckled the tablet in front of him. “Wake up Hardin.. Wake up!” he yelled as he pushed the button to send in food. Both the adults just hoped it was enough to wake up the boy. And that the boy then saved his friend, because none of them wanted to witness this. 

Even Brutus and Enobaria were looking away from the screen, disgusted at the behavior of their tribute. Brutus added to his mental list to teach the tributes that this was in no way acceptable. Enobaria and Cashmere were looking at each other, trying not to show any weakness. But both women knew what it was like to have that taken against your will. 

Finnick watched from the bed of someone he had just finished an appointment with. He hated that Snow had pulled him from the tribute center to do this. Hated even more doing it while the game was playing on the wall behind them. The woman below him not wanting to miss anything good, but not willing to miss her chance with the golden boy. 

As he pulled his jeans up he heard her voice “Oh my god.” He swung around at the distress in her voice and watched as the district 2 tribute pressed his lips against your skin. His fists clenched, he wanted to run to the tribute center, but knew there was nothing he could do. He wanted to look away and almost did, but when the camera panned to your face he watched your eyes lose their light. 

Everyone watched as your face relaxed, eyes once filled with life now dead. Then all at once filled with fire, a fire that would burn the entire arena down. 

You heard the chiming of a parachute as Bauer leaned down, his lips pressing against your throat. A gag wanted to force its way out of your throat but you forced it down. Everyone was watching, all the mentors, all the districts, little Cissa. Your body relaxed again, that killer calm coming over you as your mind screamed that this was not going to happen. Not now, not during the games, this was not how you were going to die. 

Bauer thought the relaxing of your body was you giving in to him. When he pulled back, he was startled by your smile, his hands relaxing just a little. Just enough for your hands for you to pull away and grab his face. He smirked disgustingly as he leaned down, probably to press his lips to yours. That smirk didn't have time to fall as you used your grip on his hair to slam your head into his. 

The pain didn't faze you as he flew back dazed, you used his distraction to flip you both over. You hit him over and over again in the face, watching as his nose started to bleed. His eyes blinked quickly, trying to figure out what had happened. Leaning over your hands, grab a good sized log, not too long or too heavy. 

‘They were going to let him rape me’ You thought, as you raised the log ‘If they want a bloody show.. I'll give them one.’ The log came down with a sickening crunch on his face, his nose shattering under the bark. “Dont” arms up “You know” arms down “not to touch” arms up “someone without' arms down “ASKING!” You screamed as you slammed the log down again. 

Over and over and over again even after the cannon went off. The cannon scared Hardin out of his sleep, scurrying out from his place under the tree and yelling your name. He heard a wet sounding thud and grunts and ran towards it. He was never expecting to see what he saw. 

“My god that is.. We haven't seen something this bloody since Wade Rankine..” 

The district 2 males body was under you, but his face was unrecognizable. Blood was splattered across the ground and your arms, chest, legs and face. He stopped running as he watched you slam what looked like a log down into his face again. When he said your name again, your head snapped to him, arms dropping as exhaustion fell over you. 

All at once, what you had just done came over you. Tears falling from your eyes as you try to stand, but you just fall back onto the body under you. Sobs ripping out of your throat as your body finally gave out from all the stress and the three people you had killed this week. Hardin moved towards you, scooping you into his arms. 

The mentor's room was silent as Haymitch slumped back into his chair. Mags got up from her chair and walked over to the man, hugging him and patting his back. She didn't know what it was about this girl that inspired him, but she could tell he really cared. She could tell that Finnick wanted to care, and that made her care. Haymitch let out a few deep breaths before nodding against Maggie's shoulder. Thankful that you were ok, but slightly horrified at how easily you seemed to be packing this away. 

He knew that if you won, which he hoped you did, that you would either continue to compartmentalize or that you would fall apart. But either way, he would be there to try and help you through it. 

Your legs wrap around Hardins waist as you hide your face in his neck. He walks back to where the parachute is, by the trees you were laying under. He sits with you in his lap, rocking you back and forth as you sob. The only thing he can do is rub your back and tell you over and over again that you're ok. Being careful to not say ‘it's ok’ because you both know it's not. 

Eventually your sobs stop and you fall asleep in his arms. He picks up the parachute popping it open with one hand. Small rations and a bottle of water are inside, no note. He realizes that whoever was watching them was just trying to wake him up. Guilt rushed over him as he leaned his head against you and whispered “God.. I'm so sorry.” 

~

~

~

@avis15 @liballer @avoxrising

[smilemoreimagines]

i would never fall unless it’s you i fall into (Din Djarin/Reader)

Chapter 5

length: 2,561

author’s note: I'm almost done with the next chapter, but i will probably be moving from Canada back to the US within the next month so ummm wish me luck and hopefully there won't be a big wait while that's happening

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4

With a little one living in close quarters your days are starting earlier than you're used to, and by the time the three of you are walking to the market, apple pressed into your hand by Mando, you’re still rubbing sleep from your eyes. Mando had brought you closer to Maz’s Castle, another clearing in the woods giving cover to the ship, just a short walk through the trees. As you glance back once you catch the words Razor Crest II painted on the hull. 

“What happened to the original Razor Crest?” You wonder aloud as you bite into your apple. 

“It was destroyed,” the Mandalorian states matter-of-factly, and Grogu chimes in with a boom noise, opening his fists at the same time he makes the sound. “Yeah bud, it exploded,” Mando agrees, giving him another apple chunk.

“Was he there for it?” You ask in surprise before you can think better of the question, eyes flicking between the dad and his kid trailing along in his floating pod stroller-thing. He bounces excitedly in place among the pillow and blankets, froggy plush clutched in the hand not shoving fruit in his mouth, and chants, “Boom, boom, boom!”

“Yeah,” Mando confirms, voice growing hesitant, “He was with me at the time.”

Okay, you’ve obviously pried too much, so you shut up and eat your snack, offering a small smile when the blank visor of the helmet turns your way. The tension that showed in the set of his shoulders disappears, the man reverting back to his natural state of casual grace. Restrained power. You admire him for a moment when he looks away from you, but then you’re breaking through the treeline to the very large, already bustling market.

Rows and rows of vendors calling out their wares, wide aisles between the stalls packed with people shopping. Mando informs you that it’s a permanent market, so all the booths with clothing should be in the same area. You don’t tend to like crowds, so at least you won’t have to fight your way through the whole thing to gather what you need. 

As soon as you enter the fray your shoulders raise in tension, arms pinned to your sides trying to make yourself as small as possible as you’re bumped and jostled. The avenues are wide enough that space wouldn’t be an issue if people walked a little more orderly, but in this part of the galaxy? Not gonna happen. A quick glance behind you shows Mando and Grogu a few paces back, gait leisurely. You wish you could muster that kind of effortless calm.

Your lips twist into a tight smile, still unused to having other people around to keep track of in a crowd. When you face forward again you’re on guard and trying to be as out of the way as you can. You push through another tight throng of people and then it feels like the crowd thins out a bit. You let out a deep breath. Then feel a light touch on your upper back, whipping your head around only to relax again when you see it’s just Mando. The helmet tilts down to look at you and he gives a slight nod. You realize the crowd hasn’t thinned at all, they’re parting to make a path for the Mandalorian a single step behind you that’s turned on his aura of deadly power. Just a moment ago he’d been so casual. Did he do that just for you? 

Din would never admit it out loud, but he hated seeing you try to make yourself smaller. In the short time he’s known you it’s become clear to him that you don’t like loud, sudden noises. That you feel safer with routine and clarity. Which is the exact opposite of this market. It had made his chest ache when you walked right into the crowd even with your hackles so obviously raised, posture defensive. You flinched whenever there was a particularly loud shout or bang. Curled further in on yourself when anyone bumped into you too hard. He couldn’t do anything for you about the noise, but he could get people to give you space. 

Grogu looked at him curiously when he turned that part of himself on, the part that was intimidating, that brought attention to himself, the kind that made people give him a wide berth. It was something that he didn’t have to do very often anymore, now that he was trying to give his son a more normal life. A safer life. Din was still bounty hunting. Just not for much longer. 

Even with her so-called “best friends discount” Peli was still charging him an arm and a leg for his re-made ship. After the Crest was destroyed he tried to find a new ship that would work, but he found he didn’t like making do on the vehicle that was essentially his and Grogu’s home, so he’d commissioned Peli to remake her mostly the same but with some more livable upgrades, like the kitchenette. He knew that what he was asking would cost a fortune, and now with the ship done he was taking the last bounties he needed to finish paying it off. Then you showed up. 

You, who is now looking at him like he personally gave you the stars from the sky, and for such a simple favor. The relief of not being pressed in on all sides radiates from your face as you whisper a thank you like it’s a secret. Din likes how open you are in your emotions, however unintentional it may be. As a man who’s made his living from being able to read people well—to know if a quarry was actually complying or just biding their time to get the jump on him—it’s nice that he can tell from a glance what’s on your mind. He enjoys how straightforward you are, how earnest. 

In the few days that you’ve been on the Razor Crest II he finds his gaze drawn to you whenever you’re in the same room. You just have this… gravity to you. Sometimes you’ll ask questions or make little quippy comments and get him talking a bit, but you also don’t mind the silence that often settles between you. You are a quiet soul, and he’s finding comfort in that. 

And it’s plain to see how much that Grogu is growing on you, and vice versa. That’s part of why he threw the job offer on the table so quickly, because of this life he’s now trying to give his son. He wants him to be happy with whoever will care for him when Din can’t. And you’re a Jedi. Or at least, you have the powers of one. He needs to ask you more about that. If you can help his son learn more about his abilities. Din doesn’t understand much about the whole Force-magic thing or why Grogu’s attachment to him makes him unable to be a Jedi, but he still has the Force and in Din’s mind a power like that should be understood. 

Once you reach the section of stalls piled high with clothes and fabrics he tells you to get whatever you’ll need, that you shouldn’t worry over the cost. These last few bounties will cover the ship, but he’s been considering picking up a few more pucks so that him and Grogu can maybe stay in one place awhile, or explore the planets that Grogu has shown interest in. He’s decided now, and those credits will be for you as well. 

You who is all business right now, choosing practical things: underclothes, socks, shirts, pants. He watches as you run your fingers lightly over a colorful scarf, looking at it wistfully for a moment before moving on to the next stall. He recalls what you’d said the day after you jumped on his ship, when you’d woken up from a wound that could have easily killed you—that was still making you walk with a slight limp—taking stock of your ruined clothes and letting the blood-soaked and stained fabric fall to the floor. “That was my favorite thing.” 

The color of this one is soft, like light hitting a waterfall, a diluted rainbow. He’s paying for it and stuffing it in his pouch before you can notice he’s fallen behind, right at your side before you turn to ask him a question about something or other.

It can be disorienting, how your eyes always seem to land right on his own, even through the inky black of the visor. He knows it’s not possible, but still, the thought distracts him. Most people have a hard time picking a spot on the helmet to look, often wavering between his forehead and chin, but not you. Yet all the vendors you’ve talked to today you could hardly look them in the eye for more than a moment before getting fidgety and looking somewhere else. You’re an odd person, but he finds it more endearing than off-putting. 

“Mando?” You ask for the second time, ducking your head slightly as you look up at him. He’s been lost in his head for a minute, just kind of staring at you, or in your direction, anyway. He does that a lot, the staring—observing, to put it more politely—but usually he acknowledges you when you address him. He clears his throat as he refocuses and asks what you need. 

It’s silly and unimportant, surely more so than whatever he was thinking about, but you’ve been at this one vendor for multiple minutes trying to decide if it would be okay to get this dress or not. The fabric is soft and light, flowy and patterned with flowers. It reminds you of one you had as a teenager, one that was stained in blood and bad memories but that you still miss. 

“Can I get this?” You ask, the hesitance thick in your voice. “I’ve gotten everything else that I need, and I know it’s not practical, but…”

“Of course,” he says, interjecting when you trail off. 

You don’t know it, but he’d have a hard time denying you anything, when you ask that sweetly. It can be hard to connect the you that yelled at him for endangering his son to this shy, soft spoken creature, but here you are. A walking contradiction. Your smile is like sunshine breaking over your face as you thank him, and he finds his own lips curling up in response.

“Not everything needs to be useful,” he says to you as he pays, “Some things can just be pretty.” 

You laugh and respond, “And do you like pretty things, Mando? I bet you do. Maybe when I change into this you’ll sneak something nice too, something an actor in a holonet drama would wear. Am I right?” 

He just huffs that laugh that you’re coming to enjoy maybe too much and shoos you to the changing rooms at the end of this avenue. But when you come out wearing that dress, he thinks that maybe he does like pretty things. He certainly likes how you look. Your smile is bigger than he’s ever seen it, more genuine. You wear your feelings on your face, and right now he can’t see any of the pain that usually lives there. Mesh’la. Beautiful. You look beautiful. 

He needs to get these thoughts in check; you’re basically his employee. A strange concept for a man who’s spent most of his life alone, relying on only his own wits and skills to get by, but child-rearing is something that he knows is too important to just wing it. Grogu is his actual son now, not a foundling to be returned, his. And he wants to do the best job of parenting that he can, regardless if that means getting outside help. 

And now that you’ve got everything you need, Grogu decides to make himself known again. The little guy starts chirping, pointing further down the way at some kabobs roasting over a fire, the tone of his voice insisting it’s time for food, feed me now. You run a hand lightly over one of his son’s large ears, agreeing with him that it is probably lunchtime by now. His pod follows eagerly before overtaking you to beat everyone to the food as if it’ll disappear before he can get his little hands on it, Mando right behind both of you. 

When you go to pay for the food he tries to stop you, but you want to spend your few remaining credits from Tatooine on the little guy. “He’s so food-oriented,” you insist, not putting the credits back in your pocket but rather pointedly dropping them into the vendor’s hand, “He won’t be able to not like me if I get him his meal. And as his new nanny, I would like him to like me.”

As you’re being handed three kabobs, Mando can’t help but say, “He already adores you. Wasted your credits to get something you already have.” 

You just shrug. “It’s worth it.” And indeed, Grogu looks at you very happily as he stuffs cooked meat in his mouth, and you pull the kabob from his hands to force him to slow down. You try to hand one to Mando, but he just shakes his head, gestures to his helmet. 

“Oh, right,” you say, lightly smacking your hand to your forehead. You forgot he can’t eat in front of you. You hadn’t really thought about it since he’s mostly been in the cockpit where you can’t follow because of your leg, and he’s taken all of his meals up there. If you can even call them that. You snag some napkins before leaving the stall to find a place to sit and eat with the kid, wrapping the Mandalorian’s food so he can eat it later. He tries to tell you to split it with Grogu, that he’s fine, but you point out, “It can’t be good for you to live off of ration packs exclusively. You have a kitchen. Why don’t you keep real food?” 

Right. He’d specifically asked Peli to include one, but even though he has it he still mostly eats rations. And fruit, because Grogu loves it so much. It’s such an ingrained habit that cooking still feels like a bit of a waste of time. But he knows he should do better for Grogu. And you now, too. 

You find a fountain with some room on the wide rim for you to sit with his son on your lap. He hooks his thumbs on his belt, scanning the area for trouble. Finding none, he looks down at you, slowly managing to eat your food in between feeding Grogu. It is so very hard to fight the feeling of domesticity as he takes the rowdy little boy from you, especially with the smile of gratitude you throw his way for letting you eat. 

Din is already looking at you so he notices the moment your expression drops, jaw going slack before snapping up with a click to clench your teeth together, eyes wild and face growing so pale he’s worried you might pass out. He’s scanning the crowded square for danger, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary happening. Nothing to protect you or Grogu from. 

[andromedaexists]

WUPDATE: CALL ME ICARUS

𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷𝟿𝚝𝚑 || 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝙽𝚊𝙽𝚘

y'all i am so busy rn that i forgot to keep yous updated on my progress. moving forward i am going to try and be more present here, i am going to work my way through my backlog of tag games this weekend and queue up all the writing yous tagged me in.

this month is camp nano and it has kept my mighty busy. here is a list of things that has happened this month:

finished the prologue and chapters 1-10. i got them up for betas to read (if you'd like to beta for CMI, the form is still open to apply here)

got in contact with an artist and started the process of commissioning them for a cover (they just sent me the concept sketch and im!!!!!)

set an official publication date (announcement coming soon 👀👀👀)

submitted a query! (and realized that i don't want to trad pub so i'm self pubbing instead!)

started talking to formatting editors. i'm not sure if i'll be able to afford a good formatting review before publication, but i am in talks with someone who will let me use their Vellum!

started research on how to self pub/what company i want to go through (and actually set up a channel where i can dump my research once i compile it!)

cried a lot over this whole process. a lot.

so yeah! a lot has happened! a lot of good stuff, but a lot of stressful stuff as well! that's okay though, i'm just over the moon that i have an official pub date 🥰

i'm going to push through to the end of camp nano, but i am going to try and get back into weekly wupdates and just talking about writing a lot more. i was a little hesitant about joining camp nano given how bad regular nano went for me last year, but a new server i joined has really helped me find my love of writing again (thank you doom and clanky and so many others that i met through the bird app, i love you all)

anyways, enough rambling. let's get to what you guys are really here for: snippets! i am going to add a couple here (read, a snippet for each chapter i've missed updating here) to make up for my relative silence as of late:

Chapter 5:

There are two more encounters listed below it, but before Icarus can read them over he is distracted by a flash of gold entering the shop. His eyes shoot up, latching to the new patron standing in line with their back to him. It’s normal for bright colors and movement to grab his attention, but this time something feels different. He can’t put his thumb on it, but his brain is telling him that he should recognize them. It’s screaming that he should know who they are. But for the life of him, he cannot make out who it is. Whomst? The fuck? From this distance, he can’t see anything that might tell him who they are. Their plain black clothes could be the tell of an Elysian, but that isn’t a guarantee. The only truly identifiable trait is the halo of blond curls cascading over their shoulders. Why do I feel like I know them?

Chapter 6:

Ariadne whistles, a long and appreciative sound as she sees her husband’s work. The tattoo had been a beast to heal, but the hours of torturous pain and restless nights of endless itching had been well worth it. He spent days ogling the tattoo after it had first healed, the feathers look so real that you can almost feel them when running your hands over the inked skin. It is everything he wanted and then some. A feather-light touch runs down the etched skin. There is only one person who had ever touched him with that kind of reverence, his artist must have gotten up to inspect the tattoo. He is admiring his art—as he should—when he says, “Looks like you should have used more lotion.” He lets go of one edge of the hoodie to flip him the bird. It’s impossible to hide anything from his artist, of course, and he knew that his lackluster care would be noted. There are likely small splotches where the ink had fallen out due to his poor moisturizing regiment, but it’s not like he has much of a choice in that. Icarus drops the back of his hoodie with a sigh as he turns to face the artist again. YOU KNOW? HARD REACH AREA ALONE. His eyebrows raise as he speaks, his signs becoming large and boisterous. He then mimes trying to reach the middle of his back. That gets a chortle out of his artist and Ariadne. He hadn’t thought to consider how he would need to reach every part of his back before getting the tattoo, and the fact that he doesn’t have anyone in his life to help him makes it that much worse.

Chapter 7:

“Look,” Andromeda levels at him, voice growing in intensity as they say, “I understand that you don’t quite trust me yet. I mean, we just met yesterday. Hell, I don’t even know your name yet! But-” “Icarus.” He grabs the hoodie on the left and pulls it over his head. He takes a moment to pull his hair up and fasten it in a ponytail before turning and leaning back against the closet door. “My name is Icarus.” “Okay. Icarus. Y’know, that fits.” Their voice is calmer, quieter, as if that piece of information is enough to placate them. Icarus huffs. The name really does fit him, doesn’t it? Always jumping into things without thinking of the consequences, taking risks, and keeping shit close to his chest until he gets a bit too close to hubris and starts to fall apart. Falling in love with the sun personified. Burning, falling, crashing, drowning. Yeah, the name fits him. The only difference between him and the Icarus of myth is that he died at the end of his story. Icarus has no plans of dying. No, he plans of making it out the other end of his story and living to tell the tale.

Chapter 8:

“I thought the whole ‘Oh, Hestia has a pizza shop?’ ordeal would tell you that I have no idea where to go.” Huh, yeah, that should have clicked with him. It’s not like they could search up directions, they likely don’t have a phone just the same as him. Can’t risk having a way for someone to use GPS to locate him. It’s not like he has anyone to keep in contact with, anyways. “It’s just down the street. Go out the front of the building and head down West Saint Clair, it’s just past fourth street. I’d say can’t miss it but you very much could, there’s no sign out front. It’s the only building that looks like there’s someone living in it on that block, though.” “Got it. West Saint Clair, Fourth Street, not-abandoned building.” Andromeda repeats the directions to themself as they head towards the front door. “Anything else while I’m out?”

Chapter 9:

How could he forget? “Καιρὸς δε, Thanatos,” he mumbles as he stretches his arms out in front of him and rests his forehead on the blissfully cool counter. “And here I was thinking you weren’t gonna remember me.” Long gone is the shrill and timid voice of a sickly kid, replaced by one of the most soothing and deep tones Icarus had ever heard. “…Fair ‘nuff.” The vibrations of a glass hitting the counter top make Icarus look up. A glass of water, just water. He groans, that is not what he wants right now. He’s craving the sweet buzz of an energy drink, but that will require him to get up and walk around the island to grab one. Andromeda chuckles, not moving an inch as they watch Icarus suffer over the glass. “Quit pouting and drink.” He drops his head, turning his face away from the glass. “Oh come on, you big baby. Deja de hacer un berrinche y bebe.” They poke his cheek as he pouts. “Mira, food’s ready. Sit up and eat.”

Chapter 10:

“Why are we running?” they ask, gasping for air after the impromptu sprint. Icarus points to the bird as it hops along the ridge of the tent. He turns to watch their reaction, this is a big deal. Their eyes widen and their jaw drops open, they are just as shocked as he is. His smile has not left, though it dulls as their face drops to sadness and grim acceptance. What? “A crow.” Before he can say anything the look is gone. They beam a bright smile at him. “I can’t believe you found a bird! That’s definitely good luck for us.” But it’s not, their reaction sits wrong with him. He squints his eyes, watches them to see if that glimpse of despair will surface again. When it doesn’t, Icarus forces a smile on his face. If they don’t want to talk about it then he isn’t going to talk about it.

Okay, i think that's enough of a writing dump for now. here's the CMI Taglist:

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