#i’m not going to finish these i just wanted to figure out their faces

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART EIGHTEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: before your ultimate departure, you spend your last moments with sae-byeok.

wc. 3.5k (i think lol)

warnings: angst and lots of fluff | authors note: after this only two chapters left guyssss

(nowhere girl masterlist)

When Sae-byeok was done changing she walks to the living room, expecting to see you amidst slumber, however traces of you were vanished. Her eyebrows furrow and she paces to the calendar hanging in the kitchen—you leave tomorrow. She knows you aren’t in the bathroom because she was just there. You are nowhere in the apartment. Did she get the date wrong?

Sae-byeok might have to pause a morning of pickpocketing—which she calls work now…again—to figure out if you actually left. She steps out the apartment, knowing there aren’t any traces of you inside.

Her mouth is set in a hard line, growing more worried by the second.

She sweet sense of relief bubbles in her stomach when she sees you sitting on the concrete staircases leading to the complex—you were painting something. She swallows back a sigh of content and carefully makes her way to you.

When a shadow looms through your small canvas you immediately flip it over to conceal it from whoever is walking past. The corners of your mouth turn up when you see who appears before you. “Hi.”

“Hi.” she greets, in the same tone of timidness. Her worries vanishing once she sits down beside you. “I thought you…”

A sense of deja vu overwhelms her looking at you. You have on your denim overalls and sporting chipped nail polish however this time they are orange—it reminds her of the day she first met you. It boggles her mind how much things changed since then.

“Left?” you question with a chuckle. “No, I just went to drop off Cheol.”

Sae-byeok’s chest fills with pride. She insisted last night that you wouldn’t drop off Cheol solely to get enough rest, however you did it anyway. No one cared for her or her brother this much.

“Where’s your suitcase though?” she mutters. She stares at her folded hands so you couldn’t see her cheeks turn pink.

“Oh, I forgot it in Ji-yeong’s room. She was helping me pack last night.”

You start putting away your brushes and watercolor set back in your bag, however the canvas was still facing away from her. It peaks her interest because usually you’ll proudly present your work.

“What are you working on?” she asks you, trying to peer over your work.

“I can’t tell you yet.” you say cheekily, wagging your paint stained finger in her face. “It’s a surprise.”

She raises a suspicious brow but doesn’t poke you any further. If anything, it excites her that you still find ways to make her stomach all fuzzy. Not that she’ll ever admit it though.

Today feels bittersweet. Although it’s your last full day, today is the only time you have your schedule free ironically enough. Sae-byeok has to take advantage of that—she still wishes for the day you two do nothing together and today might be it.

“Wanna go grab a meal. On me?” she asks out of the blue.

“That’d be great.” you say, after you finish packing your things. Your smile gets wider just looking at her timid eyes that she tries masking with a poker face. “You want to go right now?”

Sae-byeok nods. She waits for you to put your belongings back inside the apartment and all while she tries preventing her face muscles from forming a grin. When you come back, you seem to be in higher spirits because with every step you make, there was a slight bounce to them.

“Can’t believe you’re leaving already.” Sae-byeok sighs.

The restaurant was quaint and hidden beneath the towers of flashy signs with only two tables inside for sitting. However, you both enjoy the fact that it was so small, it made this day all more intimate and personal. And you both got the perfect seating near the window.

You both decide to share a large bowl of noodles with black bean sauce.

“Yeah.” you reply to her with an anxious chuckle. “I’m nervous—I’m going to be with all sorts of international students so I don’t know if I’ll make any friends.”

“You’ll have fun regardless.” she says coolly before slurping a serving of noodles.

“Is that my shirt?”

Sae-byeok quizzically looks at you before peering down at the shirt she’s wearing. A slightly oversized blue stripped button up shirt she barely remembers picking.

“You—You said I could—“

“Oh. Right.” you facepalm. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Two nights back, you were sorting through and choosing clothes to bring to Italy. And you offered Sae-byeok some of your clothes you weren’t bringing along. Although she was highly reluctant at first, this was the only item of clothing she picked.

“I could give it back to you—“

“No. It’s yours now. It looks nice.”

After that you both silently finish eating the noodles. Your faces flush whilst avoiding making eye contact.

After you two confessed, you both began acting more awkwardly towards each other. Neither of you knew what to say or how to act around each other. And neither of you told anyone what occurred that night. As days pass by, the tension just got thicker.

At one point you both dip your chopsticks in the bowl, causing them to collide against each other. You quickly mutter an apology while Sae-byeok blinks rapidly. It was just too awkward.

“Thanks for the meal.” you murmur after Sae-byeok finishes paying.

“I owed you one remember?” she says to you and covertly focuses on the small grin forming on your lips.

It would be a lie to say that she didn’t think about that night more than she’d like. Especially whenever you smile, it’s like she could still feel your lips moving against hers. When she realizes what she’s currently thinking of, she clears her throat and soars off her seat.

“Do you want to spend the rest of the morning together?” you hesitantly suggest once you’re out of the restaurant.

“What?” she mutters, still dazed and scared that you read her thoughts.

“You’re probably busy but I just wanted to spend the rest of the morning with you before you know…”

She clears her throat again. “Sure.”

“Any place in mind?”

A glint of mischief forms in Sae-byeok’s eyes making your eyebrows furrow up. She nods in a direction for you to follow and you just let her lead the way.

A relatively short and silent walk led you both to a familiar block you remember running away from a gangster. Sae-byeok notices the crestfallen expression surfacing your face when you figured out where she’s taking you.

“Don’t worry.” she reassures you. And you just silently take her word for it.

She grabs your hand when you both spot her old job and your old apartment then starts walking faster. Her eyes dart around like an owl in the night, making sure prey isn’t in sight. The visible confusion in your face doesn’t dissipate when Sae-byeok lures you to the back of the bakery building, where there is only a narrow staircase leading up high.

“What’s—“

Sae-byeok places her pointer finger onto her lips to signal for your silence as she opens the door to the rooftop. There, she pulls two familiar plastic chairs for you two to sit on the edge of the roof.

“I used to come here during my breaks.” she explains flatly and pats the empty seat beside her for you to sit.

You clutch the straps of your bag and stiffly sit down. She chuckles in amusement.

“Don’t worry. No one knows about this place.” she states, a teasing smile indistinctly forming. “Besides, you’re a little reckless too aren’t you?”

You throw her a look. “You have a cute smile.” you say bluntly, completely throwing Sae-byeok off. “Sorry, that was my recklessness talking.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.” she grumbles yet the smile still remains.

“I’m serious though,” you say, looking far ahead at the city beneath you. “I think you’re really pretty. And—I meant to tell you that for a while.”

The confession made her eyes grow wide. She couldn’t stop looking at you and your scarlet face.

“You’re pretty.” Sae-byeok whispers. If the wind blew any louder you would’ve missed it. “And cool.”

“No,” you snort. “you’re cooler. And tougher. And badass.”

Sae-byeok hums to herself to think. Being a woman of few words she wants to try her best to her thoughts now.

“I think…” she speaks up. “there are different types of cool people. And you’re the artistic—freedom of expression type of cool.”

Your entire face lit up. “Wow. That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

“How did you do it?” she blurts out. “Express yourself?”

You blink at her. “Oh…Well, it wasn’t until I got to college when I started experimenting. Before that I was just trying hard to fit in. But when I got to college everyone was so colorful and fun I slowly began to be more…spontaneous I guess.”

“…When you come back maybe you could help me?”

“Of course. I’d love that.”

The exchange of fleeting glances is reciprocated for a second before you both look away.

“Sae-byeok.”

“Hm?

“You’ll be okay, right?” you ask apprehensively. “I know you’re incredibly resilient and smart but I’m just worried—“

“Don’t.” she interrupts. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just focus on enjoying your trip.”

“Yes, I know it’s just—“

“You said it yourself. I’m smart and resilient. Everything will be okay—I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

You let out a huge exhale of relief. “Alright. You’re right.”

“And I just want to say,” she breathes, scooting her chair so she could get closer to you. “thank you for everything. Not just for helping with rent this month or dropping off and picking up Cheol but…I discovered a lot about myself and a big part of that is due to you.”

Your pupils dilate just by merely observing her. Sae-byeok couldn’t help her rapid chest movement after speaking and she goes back to sink further in her seat.

“That means a lot to me that you said that.” you murmur happily. Sae-byeok’s eyes get rounder, this overwhelming feeling of kindness and admiration is going to give her a heart palpitation. But she hides it so well you don’t even know. “Could I ask you one more thing?”

“Yeah.”

“What were you like…before you came down south?”

Sae-byeok’s expression dulls up. No one has ever asked her that question before. The unimaginable horrors she’s been apart of whilst being Deok-su’s posse made her forget about her life before all the crimes. But you patiently wait as she takes her time to regain the blurry memories back.

“I remember that I wasn’t always like this. When I was a kid I think I was pretty lively—like a child should be. You know, I always thought I would have a miserable life for a long time. Even by the time I rescue my mom I had a feeling I would still be this lonely, untrustworthy person till the moment I die…But it wasn’t until I came here and saw my father get killed that I buried that part of me a long time ago…now I don’t know what it feels like to be a youthful person. I’m sorry I don’t really remember…”

Sae-byeok flinches when she feels a finger pad trace down her face. She blinks at you and it dawns to her that she was getting teary eyed. And you were wiping them off.

“It must’ve been hard for you.”

“Yeah.” she mutters.

“But you’re not alone anymore.”

Sae-byeok wishes that would be true. But a deep dark part of her still thinks otherwise. She slowly adverts her gaze back at you—like she was trying to get one good look at you before you go. Because soon enough, you will become faded memories in the cruel passage of time. But to not worry you, she just shakes her head.

“Are you alright?” you ask seeing her sullen expression deepen.

“Yeah.” she quickly says.

You stare at her, still skeptical. “…Okay.” you whisper.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

“It’s going to be so boring here now.” Cheol grumbles, arms crossed whilst watching you from the couch.

“Ouch.” Ji-yeong grumbles at the boy, pressing her chest to her heart as if she was in pain.

“Sorry…” he winces.

You were currently crouching in front of the living room trying to zip up your carryon suitcase. And by the looks of it, with your large sunglasses and sun hat, you are ready for an amazing journey through Italy.

In all honesty, you are still deeply in denial about this once in a lifetime opportunity granted to you. You still feel guilty about leaving everything behind—even your internship at the gallery especially after the begrudging look your boss gave you two weeks ago when you told him the news. It’ll be hard for you to navigate this short coming life across the globe without your friends and Sae-byeok, who you aren’t sure where to place her—friend or something more complicated. But relationship or not, what you two built was the most beautiful thing. And…she might be the person you miss most of all. You assume she feels the same with the intense gaze she’s giving you. It was like she’s trying to bore you into her mind.

“When I get back you’ll have so many cool paint sets everyone in your class is going to be envious of you.” you tell Cheol with a mischievous look he exchanges back.

You let out a huge sigh of relief after successfully closing the suitcase thanks to Ji-yeong sitting on top of it to apply pressure.

“My ass hurts now.” she whines and leaps back up.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket so you scramble to check it. This being your first time boarding an airplane you want to arrive there extra early, meaning every second needs to be accounted for this early morning Saturday.

“The taxi is almost here.” you gasp and remove your sunglasses and hat off your head.

Your heart rate increases now, it’s getting more real by the second.

The living room grows quiet for a brief moment, all sharing with the knowing that you’re truly going away. Ji-yeong is the first to envelope you in a bear hug.

“Bye, Ji.” you say against her hair, reciprocating the embrace.

“Can’t believe you’re going to fucking Italy.” she says with a laugh. “You always had it in you though so I shouldn’t be surprised. Have fun, alright? Wait—not too much fun actually.”

“I won’t.” you roll your eyes and give her one last squeeze before letting go.

The pang in your chest became more intense when Cheol rushes to give you a hug as well. Now, it all is starting to feel real. This is happening—you’re going.

“I’m going to miss you a lot, Noona.” he says with a pout.

“You’ll see me soon enough.” you assure him. “Take care of my acrylic sets, okay? Oh, and when you use acrylic don’t forget to prime your canvas before you—“

Sae-byeok coughs and signals you start heading out.

“Right.” you stammer and send Cheol a thumbs up. “Good luck, little artist.”

Sae-byeok removes her hands from her jean pockets to grab your suitcase for you. Cheol and Ji-yeong mutter their last goodbyes to you out the door—you already start getting choked up.

The day was still so young, yet it all felt like it was over. You were having a hard time swallow back the tears.

“How long until the taxi arrives?” Sae-byeok asks flatly, leaning against the apartment building once you’re both outside.

“Five minutes…” you trail off.

You and her look at each other, sharing the same forlorn expression. If you know her well enough, Sae-byeok was putting on a hard front to not appear sad for you. But it was all in her shimmery eyes, it said everything.

“Before I go,” you sniffle as you pull out something from your personal bag. You pull out a small rectangular item that’s covered in red gift wrap. “here’s the painting.”

Sae-byeok looks at you and back at the gift, slowly reaching for it. She pushes herself off the wall to stand closer to you.

“You finished it already?” she murmurs in awe, tracing the striped wrapping paper with her finger.

“It was already done when you saw it this morning I just needed to sign it of course.” you wink. Before she dug her nails into it you clamp your hand on top of hers. “Open it when I’m gone.”

Sae-byeok sighs. She checks the time on her phone and gulps like she was nervous to speak.

“I had fun yesterday. I wish we did more of that when we had the time.” she confesses quickly since time is running out.

“Once I come back we’ll have many more of these don’t worry.”

But at this point you couldn’t hold back the tears threatening to spill. You kept smiling but your eyes were flooding.

In panic, Sae-byeok gently placed the gift against the wall and heads closer to you to start wiping away the tears streaking across your face. After you felt her touch, the waterworks got more intense.

“Don’t cry.” she murmurs gently.

“But I’ll miss you.” you choke up and let out a hiccup after failing to hold back the tears.

“I’ll…I’ll miss you too.”

Even after finishing wiping your streak of tears, she doesn’t remove her hands from holding the sides of your face. Like she remains frozen due to your touch. You two stare at each other, silently asking the same question. The quiet response was you both leaning closer to share a sweet kiss.

“When you come back I promise we will figure us out.” she mutters against your lips, staring into your eyes beneath her long eyelashes.

You respond back by kissing her one last time, fully savoring the feeling of her—not caring about the fact that you two were pressed against the wall outside the apartments. Not when you’ll be gone in a split second.

You gasp into the kiss when you hear the screeching of tires behind your back. Your heart completely falls into the pit of your stomach when you see the taxi pull up.

Sae-byeok holds her breath and takes one last look at you before reaching for your suitcase. She helps the taxi driver put your luggages in the trunk and reaches to open the car door for you.

“Bye, have fun—“

You cut her off by engulfing her into a hug. Inhaling deeply, you also want to remember the woody scent of her cologne and run your fingers through her short tousled hair. If it wasn’t in your imagination, you could’ve sworn you felt her chapped lips press against your cheek.

“Don’t forget—you aren’t alone, Sae-byeok. I’ll be back soon.” you whisper into her ear one last time before pulling apart.

Her bottom lip is quivering but she nods and gestures you to enter inside the car. She shuts the door gently and waves at you through the car window. Your face is almost hidden beneath the window tints but she could almost catch your small smile and teary eyes as the car starts driving off. She doesn’t move from her spot until the car becomes a small obscure dot in the distance.

She takes a long deep breath. The emptiness she had in her chest, she could feel it coming back.

Control yourself, she thinks and bends down to pick up the canvas you wrapped for her.

“So, did you guys kiss?” Ji-yeong asks the second Sae-byeok enters the apartment.

“K—Kiss?” Cheol stammers.

“Ji-yeong.” Sae-byeok sighs in disappointment. “Not now.”

While she reaches to shut the door, she didn’t see the worried looks Ji-yeong and her brother shared. It’s like they knew that she was holding it all together by a thread. But they fall silent after she spoke, knowing that anything else they might say or do might cause an avalanche.

Sae-byeok marches to her room and locks the door. With a large exhale she sits by the edge of her bed and stares intensely at the gift. She sniffles and forcibly holds back tears as she aggressively tears open the wrapping paper.

It’s unclear how long she continues to stare at the painting. But her jaw slackened just admiring every brush stroke, and her fingers gently trace down to the signature you marked at the bottom. It was a large garden of flowers with a beautiful blue and purple sky backdrop. The only flowers in the field being yellow lilies and lavender you gifted her a while back as bouquets because they reminded you of her. She remembers it well enough. Now regret brews in her stomach that she rejected them because you must still remember.

She couldn’t hold back anymore. Her mouth opens to let the sobs escape her. When Sae-byeok blinks away the tears, she didn’t notice some droplets splatter onto your art work, permanently leaving tear marks on it.

Her life is still full of uncertainties and now that you’re gone she wonders what obstacles she has to overcome to stabilize her life again. She knows it won’t be easy.

And she knows for certain that this will be the last and only time she will let her emotions get the best of her. After this day, she will bring her guard up to the fullest extent. And she will do anything in her power to stay afloat by the time you arrive again.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts @wlvlurvsfimmia

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: nerd!anakin x f!reader

It was Valentine’s Day, and you were nervously sitting in your first-period class, the one that teacher was too tired to conduct. So here you were, tapping the pen to the rhythm of the music in your earbuds, just when the door opened and in walked ANAKIN SKYWALKER. He was too early, eyes wide as he scanned the room, and there was something a little off about the way he walked towards your desk. You looked up, raising an eyebrow, confused and filled with curiousity.

He grinned sheepishly as he stopped in front of you, holding something behind his back. Cheeks flushed a shade of red that made your heart race and throb.

“Hey... uh,” he started, shifting from foot to foot, “I know we’re kind of in the middle of class, but I, uh... I wanted to give you something.”

You furrowed your brows, still confused. What on earth was Anakin doing?

Before you could say anything, he carefully pulled a little bouquet of LEGO flowers from behind his back. Each petal was a different color, perfectly symmetrical, the craftsmanship clearly done with so much love and attention. Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Anakin,” you whispered, eyes wide in awe. “You... you built this?”

He nodded vigorously, trying to keep his cool but failing miserably. “Yeah, I thought it would be different. Y’know, special...like you..But... do you like it?” His voice was low, almost shy

“I love it,” you replied, smiling softly. “You built this for me?”

“I—of course - yeah,” he said, looking down at the flowers as though they were the most precious thing in the world right behind you. “I spent... a lot of time on it..to he honest..You’re... special...as I said..So-uh- I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Anakin, this is amazing.”

His grin grew wider. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

You laughed softly, reaching up to touch the flowers. “I’m not. Thank you, Ani.”

Then, as if on cue, he pulled out a second bouquet—this time, real flowers, bright red roses and daisies—before placing them on your desk with a bashful smile. "And these are... uh, just 'cause," he added, looking down at the ground.

“You’re spoiling me,” you teased gently, reaching for the flowers, still in awe of how thoughtful he was.

“N-no,” he stammered, shaking his head. “I... I just wanted to make today special for you. It’s... Valentine’s Day, and I—well, I--" he took a sharp breath in "I love..you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his quiet confession. “I love you, too,” you whispered back.

After classes, Anakin was practically dragging you by your hand to the LEGO store. He didn’t even try to hide his excitement. It was adorable to watch as he pulled you through the aisles, practically vibrating with energy.

“This way!” he said, squeezing your hand as he led you to the custom build section. “I wanna make us.”

“Make us?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” face lighting up. “You and me. I’ll make you. And you can make me.”

You both sat down at the station, and he immediately got to work, expertly assembling the pieces for your little LEGO figure. You, on the other hand, took your time, teasing him with little glances as you slowly put together the figure of him.

When you finally finished, he gave you a playful smirk. “You, uh... did me justice, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” you teased back, carefully attaching the head to the torso. “Look how handsome you are.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “You’re just too good at this,” he murmured.

Once they were finished, he attached his to your keyring. “You can carry me around wherever you go. I’ll be your little mini me.”

You smiled, taking your keyring and attaching his LEGO figure to your bag. “I’ll always have you with me for now on"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @nikiloveshayden @cloverina

[i-dared-myself]

Transfer

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: so ihave this request that is like an queendom x kingdom, and y/n is an idol (in other group) i know is short but i really wanted to see what would your imagination feed us. 

Queendom and Kingdom were combined for a spin-off show that you were lucky enough to be a part of. Your group had been one of the few chosen for this highly-anticipated show.

“Practises are today.” The girl next to you puckers her lips, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “Is your group ready yet?”

“Uh, yeah.” You fidget in your seat as your cheeks are swiped over with blush. As soon as your makeup is finished you slip off the stool and go off to your group. 

“Remember,” your leader is saying, gaze firm and arms crossed. “Everything rests on this moment.”

You linger in the back of the group, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. You always felt awkward around then for some reason.

It’s probably just your imagination.

“We’ve been struggling lately, and this is a good chance to prove ourselves.” Your leader smiles, sickly-sweet as she looks over at you. No mistakes.”

Your stomach twists with nerves.

At a recent event that was live-streamed, you had tripped. You don’t know what you tripped on, but you had. You had fallen during the performance, causing the rest of the members to stop everything.

Your company wasn’t pleased. Neither were your other members.

You follow the rest of your group into a dance studio. You spend the next hour running through a choreography for your performance, something that will lead to a media recovery.

Your only problem is how little you have to do. You understand that you might not be the best dancer, or the best singer, or might not even be as pretty as the other girls.

But standing at the rear like a backup dancer? They’re not using your abilities like they should, and you know you can do better. You know that the tripping in that other performance was a one time thing.

But you start to doubt it as more time goes by and no progress is made. The others are struggling with the more difficult movements, and your steps are too simple.

But when you add more flair to it, you get told to stop being so flashy. 

“You’re taking the attention from the front,” the choreographer complains. He sighs and waves a hand at you. “While we figure this out, go fill the water bottles.”

You, taken aback by the humiliating request, frown. “What?”

“He told you to do something!” a girl in your group snaps at you. “Just do it!”

You’re handed all of their water bottles and awkwardly juggle them as you go down the hallway. You manage to find the water station and hold each bottle under the tap one by one.

You hear a gasp of your name and ignore it. When people talk shit about you, you push it aside and cry about it when you’re by yourself.

Then someone is tapping your shoulder, and you hesitantly turn around.

“Yes?” you warily ask before realizing who it is. It’s fucking Seungmin. Seungmin, from Stray Kids, is in front of you. “What the shit.”

He blinks at you. “I’m sorry?”

You gasp and cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry! Pretend you didn’t hear me swear! Please!”

Seungmin smiles gently at you, something akin to amusement flashing in his eyes. “It’s okay. I make fun of JYP all the time. I won’t ruin your idol image.”

You grin. “Yeah, I know.” You pause before attempting a recovery. “I mean- Who are- Who’s- I’m JYP.”

Seungmin’s smile widens even further, and it infects you with joy. You’re both just standing, beaming at each other like idiots.

“Can I get a photo with you?” You both blurt it out at the same time before sighing in relief.

“Why do you want one with me?” you question as he pulls out his phone. You smile into the camera and pose with him.

“Because you’re cool,” he replies simply before making hearts with his fingers for your photo. “Obviously.”

You feel heat rise to your face at his words. “Oh. Thank you. That means a lot.”

Seungmin’s head tilts. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be training right now?”

You fiddle with your hands anxiously. You’ve never liked explaining the dynamics between you and the other members of your group. 

“Someone had to refill the water bottles,” is what you finally say. You motion to them, almost forgotten on the ground.

Seungmin nods slowly. “Sure, I guess. Do you have some free time to come meet the rest of us then? We’re kind of fans of yours.”

You can hardly believe it. Stray Kids are fans of you. 

“Sure.” You shrug casually. You should run back to the rest, but you do want to meet them. “I have time.”

Seungmin helps you carry the bottles down the corridor, dodging other idols. You reach a studio with a closed door, and Seungmin knocks on it with his foot in the form of a hard kick

Changbin answers it, eyebrows pulled together in annoyance. “You have hands, idiot- Oh. Oh!”

“My hands are full,” Seungmin grumbles, holding up the bottles. “Get out of the way, loser.”

Changbin’s wide eyes are still locked on you. He steps away, letting you and Seungmin pass. 

You flash him a warm smile, bowing slightly. Changbin returns it as if he can’t believe you’re here.

“Omg,” Jisung says, covering his mouth.

“I can’t believe you just said ‘omg’,” Hyunjin drawls from where he’s on the floor. He has his arms covering his face.

“Hello.” You wave to the rest of the room. Everyone is just watching you and you’re frankly uncomfortable with their gazes all being on you.

“Hi,” Chan coughs out. “What are you- What are you doing here?”

You adjust your stance, looking to Seungmin uncertainly. “He said you guys would want to meet me? And honestly I’m a big fan, so I didn’t mind coming here.”

“You’re a fan of us?” Felix asks in amazement.

“I can’t believe you’re a fan of me.” You laugh lightly. This whole day has taken a bizarre turn.

Hyunjin sits up, jaw dropping. “Stay is going to be so jealous. Can we post photos of us with you?”

You shrug casually. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

So you’re swarmed by them all taking photos in various poses with you. Jeongin is shy when he comes up to you, but quickly warms up to you and even asks you to record a video with him.

“I’m sorry, but I should go back to the others.” You grimace before smoothing out your expression into a pleasant one. “It’s been great meeting you.”

Chan hums softly. “You’re welcome back anytime. We know what we’re doing so we’re just fine-tuning. We have plenty of spare time.”

You smile and nod before putting all of the bottles back in your arms. It’s difficult to carry them all, but you make do.

When you return to the studio your group has been assigned to, they’re wrapping up. You linger in the doorway, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“There you are!” The choreographer puts his hands on his hips. “Come here.”

You set the water bottles down before rushing back to him. “Yes?”

“We’ve decided to remake your part,” he casually tells you. “I’ll show you it, and then you’ll memorize it and have it ready to go by tomorrow’s rehearsal.”

You freeze, watching him demonstrate the new dance. It’s definitely more complicated than the one you had previously been assigned, and you hesitate.

“Are you sure?” you carefully say.

“Oh, and you’re in the front now.” He wipes his hands on his pants. “You have it memorized? I also have a video of it set up on the laptop over there. You know the lines already too.”

“Yeah.” You blink back frustrated tears. “I’ve got this.”

The rest of the group shuffled out the door, wiggling their fingers goodbye at you. You stare numbly at them as you’re left alone in the studio.

You press play on the speakers and focus on singing for now. You’ve never sang this part before, and it’s a bit out of your range.

But you’re confident enough that you can do this, and nail it. You know you sound amazing, so you move on to the dance.

The movements are tricky, especially the hand gestures. They’re complicated enough that you have to just work on them for a minute.

“You look busy.” 

You whip around to find Hyunjin hovering near the entrance. You click the pause button and take a swig from your bottle.

“What are you still doing here?” Hyunjin pulls out his phone and checks the time. “It’s midnight. You’ll be exhausted for rehearsals tomorrow.”

You stretch out your legs. “No, I’ll be fine. I just- I have to do this.”

Hyunjin settles on the ground, leaning against the mirror. “Show me then.”

You falter. “Sorry?”

Hyunjin crosses his legs at the ankles and folds his hands in his lap. “I’ll give you some feedback. Then you can go get some rest sooner.”

You nod. “Sounds good.” You press play on the music and go through the dance, singing along. Your voice echoes weirdly in the room, but you know on stage it will sound good.

When you finish, you pant and slide down against the wall to the floor. “Well?”

Hyunjin tilts his head at you. “It was excellent. And… Weird.”

“Weird? What’s weird?” you anxiously ask. 

Hyunjin runs a hand over his shaved head, hand not catching on any hair. “It just… It matches perfectly with our choreography. I know we’re not supposed to talk about it before the show, but it’s almost identical.”

You frown as he gets to his feet. “Really?”

Hyunjin shows you his, and sure enough it goes alongside yours almost perfectly. He considers it for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

You adjust your stance. “I’m not sure. Doesn’t your group go first, with mine after? It would look like we’re copying you.”

Chan knocks on the doorframe, clearing his throat. “Hyunjin. You should be in bed by now at the dorms. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

“Take a look at this.” Hyunjin points at you, so you awkwardly show Chan your dance as well.

Chan’s eyes widen. “Hyunjin! Why did you teach her our-“

“That’s hers,” Hyunjin interrupts. He begins to pace. “But you thought it was ours, which means that the audience would think they copied us, which means-“

You cough. “I’m sure there was just a misunderstanding with the choreographer. He probably just studied closely with yours, and it came out the same. Big coincidence.���

“We made ours.” Chan shakes his head. “There’s no way that’s what happened.”

You shuffle, unsure of what to do now.

“Let’s just deal with this in the morning.” Chan sighs and rubs at his face tiredly. “We’ll walk you to your group. Or van I guess.”

“That’s nice, but I’m okay.” You smile warmly. “They left already and took the van with them.”

“So how are you getting to your dorms?” Hyunjin questions, exchanging a look with Chan.

You chew the inside of your cheek. “I usually just walk if I’m not far, or sleep at the studio. It’s not bad. I can sleep in weird places.”

“She sleeps at the studio like you do.” Hyunjin shoots Chan a filthy expression. He rounds back on you. “We’ll give you a ride.”

You yawn, covering your mouth with your hand. “Really? You don’t have to.”

“No, it’s fine.” Chan tugs at his jacket, pulling it tighter around his body. “Come on.”

You trail after them, holding your water bottle. You make sure to flick the lights off before you leave.

“Felix!” Hyunjin yells. “We’re going!”

Felix darts out from an empty room, eyes locking on you. “What’s she doing here?”

“We’re giving her a ride,” Chan briefly explains. He fishes his keys out from his pocket. 

When you exit the building and go outside, Hyunjin screams, “Shotgun!”

Felix groans and crosses his arms. He glances at you and brightens. “Guess we get to sit together!”

Chan unlocks the vehicle and everyone scampers inside. Hyunjin snickers at Felix, who has to sit in the back.

You tell Chan the address and rest your head against the window as Felix eagerly rambles on. You barely catch what he’s saying, too tired to really focus.

Then you’re asleep, and your head rolls onto Felix’s shoulder. His entire face turns red and he reaches up to poke at Hyunjin.

“What, backseat loser?” Hyunjin grumbles.

“She’s asleep,” Felix whispers. “What do we do?”

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

You wake the next morning to silence. It’s odd. Usually there’s frantic racing to get ready and people slamming on your door.

But it’s quiet with the sunlight filtering through your curtains.

You slip out of bed and tap the screen of your phone, heart sinking when you realize it’s almost nine. You dash out of your room, urgently tugging your pants on. You knock on people’s doors before skidding to a halt.

Why were you the only one in your room when you woke? Why are there dirty dishes piled up next to the sink?

There’s a note on the fridge, kindly informing you of your removal from the performance. The others are worried that you won’t be able to be ready in time.

So you’ve been ‘transferred to a backup dancer for another group or something.’

Temporarily, they added, but you have a sick feeling that it’s not. That this is your new normal.

You sit on the couch, sighing heavily. You notice ink on your forearm, and since you can’t remember last night-

“I got a tattoo?” you shriek in alarm. You feel dizzy as you look at your arm.

It’s not a tattoo, thankfully. Instead, someone has written a number with a marker. 

Last night comes rushing back, so you type the number into your phone and dial.

It rings once before Chan’s voice meets your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” You greet him maybe too casually, but you’re not a morning person. “Why did you give me your number?”

“So I can add you to our group chat.”

You pause. “What? Why?”

“Because… you’ll be working with us? Did you not know that you’ve been signed over to our group?” 

The dizziness has returned.

“What?” you rasp. “I’ve been what?”

There’s silence before Chan speaks again. “Okay, so I’m assuming you didn’t know.”

You close your eyes, fighting the light-headedness. “This is a lot. Chan, I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Don’t pass-“

Then you’re unconscious.

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

Chan curses and puts his phone down, causing Minho to glance up.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with mild concern as he places own phone in his lap.

Chan’s lips thin into a tight smile. “Get the others. We have to go pick her up.”

Minho shrugs and stands, wandering off. Chan grabs a first aid kit from under the sink and stuffs it into the van. When the others climb inside he starts up the engine and tells them everything.

“So, she’s been transferred to us.” Chan’s grip tightens on the wheel. “She had been taught our choreography so it would be an easier transition for this performance and-“

“So you knew the whole time?” Hyunjin demands. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“No!” Chan looks in the rearview mirror at him. “I got the email this morning that explained everything. I’m as shocked as you are.”

“Can’t believe they just gave her up,” Changbin mutters. 

Seungmin sighs and drums his fingers on his thigh. “Why is there a first aid kit?”

Chan shifts in his seat. “She might’ve passed out.”

Jisung gasps. “Oh no! Is she okay?”

“Well that’s why we’re going over,” Chan says in exasperation. 

Jeongin puts his hand up. “Dibs for CPR.”

Felix frowns at him. “I don’t think that’s how it works. I think you have to be trained to actually do it.”

Hyunjin snorts in amusement. “Right. I do it all the time.”

Chan side-eyes him. “Excuse me? Who are you giving CPR to so often?”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “That’s none of your business.”

Chan lets it go, having arrived at your dorms. Hyunjin had watched you put the code in last night, so he presses the buttons and the gate slides aside.

Changbin busts the door down and they all charge inside, holding various tools from the first aid kit.

You blink at them, holding a wet towel to your forehead. “What- How did you get in here?”

“We’re here to give you CPR,” Jisung blurts out.

You scowl. “Ew. Yeah that’s not happening.”

“Hey, you could do a lot worse than him!” Jeongin defensively says. He bats his eyes at you. “Heyyyy.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I can’t believe I’m in Stray Kids now. This is insane

“We’re cool.” Seungmin puts an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulder before shuffling to the side awkwardly once Hyunjin shrugs him away.

“Yeah I know. I’m not upset about being here now.” You grin at them. “I’ve been a fan for a while. I’m just… getting used to such a big change.”

“And we’ve been your fan for a while.” Minho rolls out his wrist. “But we have to get to rehearsal. Are you in or out?”

You toss the wet cloth at the sink, leaving it with the dirty dishes. Someone else can deal with it. “Let me grab my things and then I’m ready to go.”

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic

[thequeendesi]

A Werewolf

Title: A Werewolf

Alt Title: Imprinting

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader

Warnings: uhhh, none other than a mild panic attack. Reader won’t call Renesmee by her name.

Rating: PG

Summary: after growing up in Forks with your dad, your sister coming to live with you two, and the entirety of the Cullen drama, a wedding, and a life or death situation, your twin comes back home but different. And after seeing her, you become painfully aware of what really happened to her and leave only to realize you fit into her new world more than expected.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: woooooooow. So it’s been a while since I actually wrote smth and posted it! Consider this my lil welcome back. I’ve actually been so busy. I got married, I’ve started trying for a family, been babysitting kids, and death and just a whole lot of crazy. But I knew I just needed to actually write smth and finish it, and today I finally did. So please enjoy, requests are open and as always; I love yall 🩷

———

“Where are you going Dad?” You asked, looking up from your phone. You leaned against the armrest on the couch, your legs spread across the cushions. “To see Bella. She’s back in town.” He said, almost sounding confused in his statement. “Bella’s home? She didn’t call me.” You narrowed your eyebrows, turning off your phone. “I want to go.” You stood up, slipping your feet into your house shoes.

“Dressed like that?” Your dad asked, crossing his arms as he looked at you in your pajamas. “I’m not trying to impress the Cullen’s. I’m trying to interrogate them.” You crossed your arms, taking a second glance at yourself in the reflection of the tv. Unbothered by your sweatpants, tank top and robe. “How did she go from the brink of death, to moving far away to; she’s fine and can stay?” You narrowed your eyebrows. “It makes no sense. Dad, you're a cop! You’re not questioning anything?”

“I don’t know, I’m not questioning it. I’ve gotten… enough answers these last few days.” Your father ran a hand down his face. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing just…” He sighed. “Nothing. If that’s what you’re wearin’, let’s go.” He opened the door, grabbing the keys off the key rack.

You nodded, and headed outside, hearing him close and lock the door behind you. “And Jake...” He added, getting into the driver seat. “Jake? How is he tied into this?” You narrowed your eyebrows, getting into the passenger seat and buckling up.

“Another thing we don’t need to get into.”

“Something we do. Why’re you keeping secrets from me? That was Bella and mom’s thing.” You crossed your arms. “I’m not keeping secrets. I don’t know things.” He pulled out of the driveway and began driving towards Jake's. “Everything that’s going on? I don’t know. Other than Jake is a dog. And not a figurative dog. I mean the kid I’ve seen his entire life turn into a dog.” He said, almost bewildered to be saying it outloud.

“A… dog.” You nodded. “Bella had to have known. What else is going on in this town?” Your dad muttered to himself, parking in Jake’s yard.

You watched as the door swung open and out piled a handful of men. Some you remembered from when Jake brought you over, but after sometime last year you hadn’t gotten an invitation back. You couldn’t help but think it was tied to Bella.

You felt your heart pound as your eyes landed on one of the men, who was staring you down. All noises fell to soft murmurs for a second.

Your eyes continued glued to him as you snapped back into reality by feeling your dads truck move back down the road. Only until his frame was out of view did you turn around to look at Jake. “Start talking. When did you become a dog?” You asked, reminded of your previous mission: to interrogate.

Jake’s eyes shot to your dad. “Look at me.” You stated, grabbing his face to tug it your way. What used to be easy, your hand slipped off his face as his face didn’t move at all. “Do you remember when Cullen left Bella and you came to a bonfire?” He asked you.

“Yeah. Edweird left, you took me to a bonfire because she kept screaming all night and I needed a break and i heard about the legends about wolves and…” You paused. “No way…” you looked down momentarily, before looking back up at him. “The cold ones?” You asked, recalling another conversation you two had. “The Cullen’s.” He answered.

Your dads eyes shifted from the rear view mirror to you as he silently drove. “I just can’t believe it.” You turned back around in your seat, trying to ignore the painful pull in your chest.

“So… why are you coming with us to go see Bella? What aren’t you telling us? She’s not pregnant, is she?” You laughed a little bit, before turning in your seat to look at him again. “Is she?” You repeated.

“No. There’s a daughter. And um… I am her guardian protector.” He cleared his throat. “A daughter? They’ve been married for a month. That’s…” you scoffed, looking out of the window. ”apart of the weird shit you have going on.” You shook your head.

Charlie sighed as he parked the vehicle. “We’re here.” He half chuckled, looking at you. Your eyes met his, noticing his deeper bags under his eyes and stress lines in his middle forehead.

You opened your door and got out. The air felt still, almost scary. You crossed your arms, your hands holding sides of your robe as you walked up the steps to the front door.

“Creepy ass house…” you raised your hand to knock on the door, but stopped as Jacob walked straight in, Charlie following behind him. You sighed and dropped your hand, following behind them.

“Where’s Bella?” Your dad asked Carlisle. You crossed your arms as the man looked at you and your father, before gesturing down the hallway to where she was. “I wasn’t expecting you as well, (Name).” He smiled gently at you. “It’s my twin.” You responded plainly.

You followed your father and Jake.

“Hey.” Bella said. Your face finally softened as you saw her. “Bella. Are you ok?” You quickly cut your father off, moving close to examine her. Your eyebrows quickly knit themselves as you gathered… an overall off vibe from her.

“Never better. Healthy as a horse.” She laughed a little. “You… don’t turn into an animal too, do you?”

Bella smiled, her eyes shifting to Jake quickly before shaking her head.

Edward patted Jake’s shoulder gently, leaving the room. “Let’s give these three some privacy.” Jacob nodded, following behind Edward.

“Bella, I just don’t understand.” You pushed your hair from your face, beginning to pace. “You’re…” you looked at your dad, then at her. “You. But you’re not.” You gestured at her.

“I’m okay, (Name).” She said, trying to ease you. Scoffing, you readjusted your robe. “Did you just wake up?” She asked, trying to joke. “No. I just graduated high school, I’m enjoying early adulthood unemployment.”

”I need to know what happened to you.” Your dad stated, finally speaking up. “No.” Bella shook her head. “We need an explanation.”

“If you need one, I can’t stay.” Bella looked away from your dads eye contact. “No. No more going away!” Your dad spoke up.

“Just trust me. I’m alright. I’m more than alright. Can you live with that?”

Your dad scoffed. “I just watched a kid I knew his whole life turn into a very large dog.” He gestured to your twin, “my daughter looks like my daughter… but doesn’t.”

“Just trust me… I’ll tell you what you need to know.” Her gaze fell to you, knowing you knew. “And I don’t need to know this?”

“No… really, you don’t.” She shook her head. “Well… I’m not going to lose you again. I can’t.”

“You won’t. I promise.” Bella persisted.

You felt tears well in your eyes as you looked at the door way, avoiding Bella’s hug with your dad. “I missed you bells… so much.” You heard as your dad fought the tears.

A soft coo and footsteps entered the room as you exited. Your heartbeat racing as you trail down the hallway.

Opening the front door, you finally let go of the pained gasp of air you held in the back of your throat. You walked forward until you could lean against the handrail you stared into the forest. Millions of thoughts racing through your mind, but a few yelled loudly on top of the others.

Your sister is a vampire, married a vampire, probably had some weird half vampire kid, and your sisters in laws are a group of vampires.

“(Name).” Edward called to you. Closing the door behind him. “You’re not going to turn me too, are you?” You asked sarcastically.

“Uh, no.” He said softly, stepping forward to stand next to you. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to say anything. You held your hand up. “I’m not going to say anything.” You shook your head, putting your hand back down. “But it explains everything.” You sighed.

“Her name is Renesmee.” Edward stated. “Who?” You narrowed your eyebrows. “Your niece.” He answered. “So you two did have sex before marriage.” You laughed slightly.

“No.” He shook his head. “We didn’t expect it… her.” Edward corrected himself. “She came as a surprise. She’s a week old and looks six months.” He shook his head.

“I don’t mean to sound rude,” you started, pushing yourself off of the handrail. “But learning about… what I learned today, was enough. I’m sorry, but I’ll meet Ragnorak another time.” You stated, moving past him to step off of the porch. “Where are you going?” Edward asked, watching your movements. “I don’t know.” You shrugged, throwing your hands up as you began to walk into the woods.

The dusk fell quickly as the sounds of nature filled your ears. Before Bella moved back to live with your dad and you, woods used to be your solace. You used to tell anyone who’d listen, you knew the woods of Forks, better than any of the people.

“Are you lost?” You heard a low pitched voice call out into the woods. You turned your head where the voice was coming. A tall man stood under a tree, deep red eyes staring into your soul, his hand resting against it as he leaned into it. “Pretty girls shouldn’t walk in the forest alone.” He stared, his voice suddenly in your ear.

“Get away from me.” You stepped back from him.

“I wouldn’t try running.” He stated firmly, his hands finding your wrists. “You can try. But it wouldn’t work.” He said, almost giggling a little.

“Let me go!” You shouted, attempting to pull out of his cold grip.

“Shhh… it’ll be over soon. You’re not the Swan I was intending but you’ll do.” He shrugged, letting go of your wrists. “But tell you what. I’ll give you a ten second head start… one…”

Turning around, you quickly ran down the cleared path, looking around for help.

“Nine… ten!” The vampire shouted behind you. Like thunder roaring, you heard running from multiple directions. You turned around to see the vampire still.

You gripped your robe as you noticed four insanely large wolves began circling the vampire. Loud slaps against the earth behind you roared as a dark grey wolf jumped over your head in front of the vampire.

Falling back, you winced as you back hit the root of the tree. A loud howl came from the largest wolf, whose fur was so dark you were surprised you could even see him in the dark.

You could feel the terror the vampire was feeling as the wolves circled him. Snarling, growling, barking to each other.

You pulled yourself up, turning your back as you heard the vampire scream in agony, before silence.

You noticed as your breath wouldn’t catch, your heart beat working overtime, your incessant shaking. You coughed as you tried to catch a breath, throwing your robe to the ground as you felt it suffocating you.

You cried out as you sat back onto the ground, your body shaking. “Oh my god…” you muttered, repeating it over and over. Your hands covering your face as you rocked yourself.

A soft whine came near you as the large grey wolf lowered himself to lay on the ground next to you. Your erratic breathing slowed as you peeked through your fingers to watch him move his paw from underneath him to help him lay to his side. Your eyes moved to the wolf’s, who made a small motion with his head for you to lean into him.

You closed your eyes and leaned over, your face meeting the soft fur, before fully laying into the wolf. You felt yourself relax as your breathing and heart rate began to calm as well as you listened to the wolf’s. Which sounded surprisingly calm despite what just happened.

You removed your hands from your face and rested them in your lap as you tried to regulate yourself.

After a couple of minutes, you sat up, looking at the wolf who was already staring you down intently.

“This is a part of Jake’s thing… isn’t it?” You asked the wolf, almost expecting it to answer. You held back a gasp as it nodded.

“(Name).” You turned around, meeting Sam’s gaze not realizing he was behind you . “You know?” He asked, but it was more of a statement. You nodded. He nodded back. “Paul.” He looked at the wolf.

A silent conversation was said between the two, and Paul stood up. “I’m having him take you to the rez. There’s things you need to know.” Sam said, his tone thick with dominance, reaching his hand out to you.

You nodded, taking it as he helped you to your feet. You looked at Paul as he kneeled beside you. You silently mounted him, leaning forward to steady yourself, grabbing fistfuls of his fur to keep hold.

He looked towards the other wolves who moved back into the shadows before running towards the reservation.

You listened to the fire crackle as you braid your damp hair. Emily, Sam’s wife, offered you a shower after coming in, which you greatly accepted.

“I’m glad the clothes fit.” She said, sitting next to you on the bench.

You nodded. “Thank you again.” You said, securing your braid with a hair tie and tossing it over your shoulder. “You’re welcome.” She smiled, looking at the fire.

“I’m guessing you know about the wolf thing?” You asked. “I’m very familiar with it.” She laughed softly. “And the vampire thing?”

“Well… when you believe in werewolves, vampires aren’t a stretch.” She shrugged a little. “You found out about the Cullen's?” She asked, looking at you.

You nodded a little. “I did. I have a niece too, who I completely blew off meeting today because finding out a childhood best friend turns into the world’s largest dog, your sister and her in-laws are all vampires was just a bit much.” You sighed.

“Your wrists are bruised.” Emily said softly, gingerly touching the finger bruises on your wrists.

“Thankfully the leech who did that is dead.” Sam’s voice cut into the conversation.

He sat across from the two of you, a slightly shorter, but still very tall man sat next to you. “I can’t stress how important it is that you keep all of this a secret. Not even Charlie can know.” Sam said.

“Who’s going to believe me even if I said anything?” You asked. “I wasn’t planning on saying anything to begin with. I’m honestly regretting taking this gap year, because I wouldn’t know any of this if I was in college. I think I’m actually going to move to my mother’s, actually, because apparently Forks is something a horror movie should’ve been shot at instead of people living here.”

Sam shook his head. “Paul imprinted on you.” Sam said. “Imprinted?” You asked, narrowing your eyebrows

“What’s imprinting?” You asked, looking at Paul. Sam and Emily stood and left, giving you space to get answers from Paul.

“It means you’re my mate. It’s like my center of gravity has been shifted to you. It’s no longer about my life. It’s about being yours. Your protector, your friend, your family. I’m permanently bound to you. A soulmate. I’m yours, until the end of time.” Paul finally spoke. “It’s like feeling in a bubble your entire life seeing everything warped until it’s right in front of you, then it pops. And everything’s clear and it’s the clearest it’s ever been. And you have room to run, jump, and touch. And you want to dedicate everything to this thing that popped your bubble.” He explained, his eyes never leaving yours. His words embed themself in you, igniting a small flame in your heart.

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words. “My sister and I have always been complete opposites… it’d make sense her real love is a vampire and mine is supposed to be a werewolf.” You leaned your head against Paul’s shoulder.

He moved his arm behind your head and rested on your shoulder as you leaned into him further. “And you fight vampires all the time?” You asked, attempting to get details from him.

“Not all the time. Time to time.” He answered.

“What makes the Cullen’s different?”

“Nothing in my eyes. But, our pack has a treaty with them. As long as they don’t pose a threat to the humans, they’re safe to live another day.”

“And what happened to Bella wasn’t a threat?”

“No. She wanted her lifestyle. We had to accept it. Then we had to accept their baby because Jacob imprinted on her.”

“Jacob imprinted on Renaissance?”

“I thought her name was Renesmee… anyways. Yes, but it’s not what you think. He’ll be her protector until she decides she’s ready to be his mate.” He answered. “Weird.”

“Do you go into the woods all the time?”

“Not as often.” You shook your head, enjoying the warmth. “I couldn’t stay out of them as a kid.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Lahote.”

“Nice to know that my eventual last name will be.” You half joked. “We just met and you’re already thinking of marriage?” He laughed a little. “If we’re going to be together until the end of time, I don’t think it’s crazy to think about marriage. Apparently women in my family thrive off of getting married before the frontal lobe is fully formed.”

“We don’t have to until you want to.” He said. “As long as we’re boyfriend and girlfriend from now until then.”

“What happened to a first date?”

“My kind typically skip into straight exclusivity.” Paul shrugged. “Normally after we have the ‘I imprinted on you’ talk, the ‘when are you moving in’ talk comes pretty quick.” You heard a small chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“Oh really? Well, I guess moving to my mom’s isn’t happening anytime soon?” You teased, looking up at him. “Hopefully not.” He smiled a little.

“I guess the hardest part going forward is explain to my dad I’m dating a dog.”

“Wolf. Dogs are wolves' sad and lame cousins.”

[messers-moony]

SONG TWENTY-ONE: IS IT OVER NOW? | T.D

Pairing: Ex!Tim Drake X Fem!Reader Summary: Tim finally gets caught. Word Count: 2.6k

It was a hard breakup. She couldn’t deny that, even if she wanted to. 

Their breakup was like the worst plane turbulence. It was bound to happen sooner or later. She just hoped they could ride it out, but after too many mishaps, it was like cutting the ribbon on a finished building. Relief rolled off her in waves. Her shoulders were no longer to her ears. 

When she passed the newsstand every morning, she saw the rumors in the headlines. They were misleading and slacking in detail. 

“Tim Drake-Wayne seen with a new girl in a coffee shop?”

“The Drake-Wayne betrays his girlfriend!”

“Drake-Wayne, new playboy prince?”

She couldn’t help but scoff. The girls looked exactly like her. It was depressing to get the call from one of Tim’s brothers. Y/n could remember seeing Jason’s contact name on her phone late at night. Her papers were scattered on the island in the kitchen. The knot in her neck tightened. She reached for the phone vibrating and clicked the green button. Jason’s voice echoed in the familiar empty apartment. 

“Y/n?”

“What’s up, Jay?”

She flicked her pen back and forth. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Jason to call. However, it was usually Dick or Stephanie who called the most. Jason sighed, “You’re not gonna like this.”

“I’d like it more if you cut to the chase,” She retorted, “I have a shit ton of work to do and would like to get at least half of it done.”

“Tim’s cheating on you.”

The pen slammed on the countertop. The paperwork blurred in front of her. Suddenly, she seemed to have tunnel vision. Her mind had stopped working. She forced words from her mouth, “Excuse me?”

“He’s in a coffee shop.”

“Are you sure it isn’t Tam?”

“I can assure you it isn’t.” Jason sounded upset, “I was just passing by and saw him inside. I almost went inside to say hi until I saw a girl who looked almost exactly like you kissing him. I genuinely thought it was you at first until I noticed her hair was off, and it wasn’t your bag at the table.”

She bit her lip, “Thank you for telling me, Jay.”

“This- This isn’t-“ He stuttered, “This won’t be the last time I talk to you, right? Are you going to cut contact with the family because of this? Dick might flip. Stephanie will literally bother you till you block her, which might break her heart, and I-“

“Jason, relax,” Y/n interjected, “I’m not going anywhere right now. But I’m gonna need to get my things out of this apartment. Maybe stop by while he’s on his date and help me?”

“Of course.”

That was one week ago. She was living with Jason in the best safe house he had. It honestly wasn’t all that bad. It was clean, had some decorations, and he kept groceries stocked. Jason had been a wonderful roommate. He cooked and made sure she was okay. Y/n had appreciated it. However, the press got other ideas. Rumors began about her leaving Tim for his elder brother. 

She didn’t have time to address every rumor. Truth be told, she didn’t really care either. It was another night of late work. This time, her work spread on top of the birch coffee table and sitting crisscrossed on the rug. A mug of hot chocolate Jason had made about half an hour ago was placed on a coaster, still warm. 

He didn’t sit far. His place was in an armchair with a book in his hands. The company was pleasant and soothing. Jason didn’t talk. All she heard occasionally was the slick of a page-turning. Sometimes, he’d steal a highlighter or a pen and gently place them back on the table. However, it wasn’t bad until a knock echoed in the apartment. 

She heard Jason sigh and place his book face down on the coffee table. His socked feet drifted across the wooden floor. The door opened, and she could see the legs of the figure through Jason’s. It didn’t take long for her to put together who was outside the door, “What do you want?”

“I need some help with a case.”

“You couldn’t have called?” Jason asked, “I’m a little busy.”

Tim sighed, “Look, I’ll owe you one, okay?”

“I can’t, Tim.” Jason sounded exhausted, “I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Tim scoffed, “Too busy fucking my ex-girlfriend?”

Y/n jumped from where she was sitting, “Oh, you absolute piece of shit.”

Jason slowly moved away from the door, and Tim stepped in without permission. The door slammed behind him, “Oh, I’m the piece of shit now? How fucking ironic is that.”

“Yes, you are!” She screamed, “You’re a fucking cheater! Please don’t deny it either! You’re just pissed off this was the time I decided to call it off. Don’t act like I didn’t find lipsticks and underwear around the apartment when I went on business trips.”

“At least I’m not fucking the next family member in line!”

She narrowed her eyes, “That’s all you have for your defense, don’t you? Cause you know damn well I didn’t cheat, so all you have for ammunition is those fucking rumors. Do you honestly think I’d do that to you?”

“What am I supposed to think!” He replied, “I came to the apartment, and all your shit was gone one day with a note and a key saying we were over.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Y/n murmured, “Your face is plastered everywhere with a girl that looks just like me. A girl your family fucking hates for her attitude. A girl who isn’t even successful! Maybe, just maybe, instead of finding a clone for me, you should’ve just kept me instead.”

“Now get the fuck out.”

“But I-“

“Timothy, get the fuck out of this apartment building.”

She could see the fire in his eyes. He picked up the cross-body bag and pulled open the door. It slammed again, announcing his departure. Y/n walked back to her spot on the floor and sat down again. She grabbed the mug and downed the rest of the liquid. It felt warm against her raw throat from screaming. She saw Jason sitting in the armchair from the corner of her eye. 

“He cheated on you multiple times?”

Her grip on the pen increased, “Yes, I tried to keep everything under wraps. But the press finds out, and rumors go out. I denied them every time.”

“Why didn’t you-“

“Dick. Damian. Stephanie. Cass. You.” Y/n clicked the pen back in, “You guys are everything. Movie nights with Dick. Drawing with Damian. Gossip sessions with Steph. Teaching Cass bigger words every day. Talking about books with you. It keeps me afloat. I’m not a vigilante, but I have a stressful job and a shitty life. I wasn’t about to lose the one good thing I had.”

“What about Bruce?”

She let out a small laugh, “Bruce always treated me like a daughter. He was always so happy to see Tim smiling again. And I knew that I couldn’t ruin that for him. Bruce had seen Tim suffer too much, and I didn’t want to be the reason Bruce had to see Tim falter again. He supported me. Nobody knows this, but he paid off all my student loans for one year on Christmas. I didn’t even ask him. He just did it as a thank you. 

“Even though I knew Tim’s smile was no longer because of me, I couldn’t stand to see Bruce look at Tim with that longing look anymore. Every time Bruce mentioned marriage, I would see Tim’s smile drop and be replaced. It hurt. But it helped Bruce see a future for his son besides working his whole life.”

“You went through all that suffering for us?”

“And I’d do it again.”

He didn’t talk much after that. She was grateful. The papers in front of her distracted her enough. It was a blur of words and bright-colored highlighting. It felt like seconds before Jason stood again and grabbed the mug from the table. She heard his feet dash away, and her highlighter swung in her fingertips. The sink ran in the background and shut off with a squeak. Jason came back around the table and began collecting the papers into piles.

“Jay, what are you doing?”

“It’s almost one in the morning. You’re working with Dick in the gym tomorrow, remember?” He replied, taking the highlighter from her hand, “He wants you there at six.”

She sighed, “Fine, fine.”

Sleep came easily. As soon as she had hit the bed, sleep came over her. It was early in the morning when she heard clinking in the kitchen. Y/n swept her feet onto the floor and opened the bedroom door to smell the sweet scent of coffee brewing. Jason was in the kitchen in the same shirt and sweatpants. His curls were touseled, “Mornin.”

“Good morning,” Jason said with a soft smile. There’s coffee in the pot for you.”

“Thanks.” She reached for a mug and filled it with the smooth coffee. 

It was five in the morning. The sun was barely rising through the windows in Jason’s safe house. She watched him make breakfast while she stewed over the cup of coffee in her hands. It was five-fifteen when she went into her room to get dressed. She left the safe house at five-thirty with her keys, coffee in a thermos, and phone in her hand. The car unlocked with a click. The coffee was in the cupholder, the seatbelt clicked in, and the phone connected to the radio. Music played the entire way to the gymnastics gym. 

Y/n shifted the car into gear once she parked in the parking lot. The car door hadn’t even been locked when she heard the clicking of a camera lens. She sighed before turning to see a man not too far away with a camera. He was snapping pictures of her in front of the gym where the notorious Dick Grayson worked. She could practically read the headlines now. 

Regardless, she went into the gym to see Dick smiling brightly. He wore a white tank top, black pants, and old sneakers. His hair looked a complete mess. He sat on top of the receptionist counter, feet swinging back and forth, a cup of cereal in his hand, “Hey! How are you?”

“I’m good,” Y/n said, “How’re you doing?”

“Doing great!” Dick smiled, “You sure you up for today? I know you probably have some casework to do for Bruce and whatever evidence analysis you have to do for the GCPD.”

“Yeah,” She swayed the coffee in the thermos, “I should be fine. Plus, gotta spend time with my favorite Wayne.”

Dick snorted, “Shhhh, don’t let people hear you, they might start thinking when they aren’t used to it.”

“You’ve seen the headlines then, I suppose?”

“Of course, they’re all liars, of course.” Dick waved his hand, “You and Tim wouldn’t ever cheat on each other.”

Her keys fell to the floor. Dick perked up, “You okay?”

“Oh,” She swallowed and grabbed her keys from the floor, “Dick, Tim and I broke up.”

“What?”

“I thought Jason would’ve told everyone,” Y/n muttered, “The stories of Tim cheating aren’t fake. They are very much real. I’ve been rooming with Jason in his safe house.”

Dick jumped off the counter and put his cereal on the desk. His arms wrapped around her body tightly, “If I would’ve known you could’ve stayed with me, or I would’ve had a movie night.”

She smiled. Dick’s cologne surrounded her like a weighted blanket, “It’s okay, Dick. I thought Jason told everyone."

“Would you like me to make a statement in the family group chat?” Dick pulled back to look at her eyes, “I will if it’s easier for you.”

“Yes, please.”

It didn’t take long for the word to get out after that. She had her phone in the gym locker with all the other belongings. It was nice to leave the safe house and get away from work to teach the kids with Dick. It made her feel refreshed. To finally get her mind off of something and embrace something completely new. The kids absolutely loved her. She visited the gym once a week to say hi and help Dick out after rough nights on patrol. 

She was covered in chalk when the day ended, and the kids were gone. Dick threw her a towel for the sweat. Y/n put it around her neck, “Jason said Tim’s been doing this for a while.”

“Yeah,” Y/n sighed, “Not something I went out advertising. Especially with the press.”

“I’m sorry he did it.” Dick said, rubbing his hands on his shorts, “I know I have no reason to be sorry. A part of me feels responsible. I practically raised him and feel like I raised him better than this.”

“It’s not your fault, Dick.”

He blew a raspberry, “I just hope this doesn’t mean we’re never gonna see you again.”

“I’ve been around for years,” She drawled, “I’m not going anywhere. You guys are the only family I have. If Tim doesn’t like it, too bad.”

“That’s my girl.” Dick smiled and ruffled her hair. 

She smiled and walked back to the locker room. The towel around her neck was used to wipe sweat drips from her forehead. She twisted the lock, and it popped open. Her hand reached for her phone, which was unlocked by the facial recognition software. Her messages were blown up with texts from the Wayne family about the breakup. The replies came quickly, telling them it wasn’t their fault and she’d still be around. 

Once she replied to the messages, she grabbed her belongings and left the gym. The car ride to Jason’s safe house was smooth, and light music played in the background. Thankfully, no cameras were flashing or clicking when she left the gym. The safe house was an old abandoned apartment waiting to be gentrified in the neighborhood. Her car was parked behind the building, safely hidden away. 

The door clicked open with her key, and it closed behind her. Y/n washed her coffee tumbler and put her keys on the island. A morning’s worth of sweat and grim on her skin, she stepped into the shower and thoroughly cleaned herself. The bathroom was steamy when the water turned off. She wrapped a towel around herself and combed through her hair. She grabbed an old hoodie and a pair of pants. They slid on easily enough. Her eyes caught sight of her desk. Her hands gripped two of the folders along with her pencil pouch. 

She pulled the bar stool out with her foot and placed her belongings on the island. Her body relaxed as her eyes scanned the forensic reports from the latest crimes in Gotham. 

It took two months for her to find her own place finally. She still had her days with the Waynes when Tim was working or away. Jason had indeed been her rock throughout it all. He provided her with a place to stay and a friend in the darkest times. Dick had provided her with the best coffee and crimes for her to investigate. She spent a lot of her time in the lab at the GCPD. Sometimes, he even brought Damian to keep her company while he sketched away in his notebook. 

Bruce had set down the last box in her brand-new apartment. It wasn’t extravagant. He offered to buy her a new apartment, but she declined. She wanted to start anew by herself. Y/n needed to know that she could do it. That she could move on from Tim. They had been dating for five years. She couldn’t precisely place when the cheating began. Her estimate came to somewhere after three years of them being together. She had her hands on her hips as her eyes gazed around her new apartment. 

A smile came to her face, “I’m so glad it’s over now.”

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Twenty-One: Severus' Story

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Twenty ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: It seems as though the past always has a way of catching up with you (and everyone else around you), even if Quattlebaum has hopes for your future.

Word Count: 6.4k

“Remember, this will be on your preliminary exam, though I am sure all of you will prove to be fine Diviner’s,” Quattlebaum said, strolling back and forth in front of the fish bowl sitting on his desk. It seemed to swim along with him, following him left to right. “By the middle of June, you should have a fair idea if your Ichthyomancy predictions are, in fact, predications…I invite you to focus on such during these coming weeks, allowing your minds to open to all possibilities.”

“I better be rich, then,” Peter muttered under his breath. 

Quattlebaum did not seem to notice, lost in his own musings. “Although your initial interpretations may be wrong, I am always open to meeting with you to discuss a reassessment.” He met your eyes, flickering under the candlelight. Quickly, he looked away, humming when a student raised their hand. 

“Will meeting with you increase our grade?”

He laughed a bit, his hands clasped behind his back. “No, though it will provide you with the satisfaction of perfecting your craft.”

A few of your peers let out grumbles of displeasure, though like before, Quattlebaum paid them no mind. 

“Additionally,” he began again, “I would like you, over the course of this week, to observe your dreams in relation to the weather patterns. I have a feeling you may be surprised at what you find.”

Just as he finished speaking the bell tower rang, you and Peter packing your things and climbing down the tiered platforms to leave. Before you could go, Quattlebaum said your name, a small smile on his face. 

You looked to Peter, letting him know he should leave for Transfiguration without you. Looking rather sorry for you, he warily went down the ladder with the rest of the class, leaving you alone.  

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, though you’ve been rather occupied,” said Quattlebaum once everyone had left.

You swallowed, watching as he settled into his chair, pouring himself a cup of tea from a porcelain pot, decorated with the symbols of the planets. “Have I done something wrong, Professor?”

“No, no,” he said, offering you a reassuring smile. “Not in the slightest. Please, sit.”

He motioned to the chair across the desk, the one you had sat in when he read your Tarot. Hesitantly, you went over, throwing your bag down beside you. 

“Miss Trelawney has been pestering me, though that is not why I wanted to speak with you. Though, I have noticed the healthy change in your aura…it has settled since last week, though no less jubilant,” he chuckled, pouring another cup before pushing it across the desk towards you. 

You thanked him as you took a sip, light and flowery on your tongue. 

“It is a white tea,” he said, setting his down, “with jasmine and rose. Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you said, wondering if it was better to speak your mind or stay silent. You remembered your last meeting, deciding on the latter. “I assume you didn’t keep me back to discuss tea, though.”

He laughed again, “No, I did not. You’re sharp, Miss L/N. Very bright, indeed.”

If figuring that out made you bright, you didn’t know what could make you dense. You looked down into your cup, though there were no leaves to settle at the bottom. 

“I’m not here for a reading, either,” you said, looking back up. 

“I do not give formal readings of any kind without permission,” he said, his voice lower than before, more serious in tone. “However, I cannot help doing so by accident, as it happens. I imagine that you do the same.”

You shook your head. “I don’t have the sight, sir.”

He looked at you curiously, his eyes twinkling as his lips turned up, only in their corners. “Are you quite sure?”

“Positive,” you said, your mouth gone dry. You took another sip of your tea, holding it in your mouth a moment longer than usual. 

“Tell me,” he said, back to his normal buoyancy, “how are your independent astrological studies coming along? I admit, they have been on my mind since you last came to visit.”

“Oh,” you said, running a finger along the lip of the cup, “fine, thank you.”

“Just fine?” he asked, his question like a little hammer and chisel, slowly chipping away your sturdy wall of secrecy. 

You nodded, perhaps too much to be believable. “I’ve had to put it on the back burner, focus more on studying for the N.E.W.T.s. I’ll take it back up again once the school year is over.”

“Once you’ve graduated,” he corrected, his expression particularly winsome. He smiled at you as if genuinely proud, as if you were his kin. “Do you have any plans for after graduation?”

Yes, you wanted to say, I have an appointment for tea with the Longbottoms. 

“No,” you said instead, “nothing in particular. Get a job, I suppose.”

“Oh, employment can wait. You’ll have all your life for that,” he said with a soft laugh, taking another sip. “When I finished my time at Hogwarts, or so I thought, I hopped around the continent with a few galleons and a crystal ball to my name. Such is the way of youth! I found myself back on its doorsteps when Professor Dumbledore contacted me in Bern to inform me that the position of Divination Professor had opened and I was their first choice. I was far more flamboyant then, perhaps a bit unappealing to my more enthusiastic students,” he seemed to find great joy in reliving the memory, his tea nearing spilling from the cup. 

“I’m not sure my parents would agree,” you chuckled.

“They must be proud,” Quattlebaum said, genial in a way you had never seen from him before. “Do not fret, I am sure you will find your way. It is rare we do not, in the end.”

You nodded, glancing down at your watch in the most subtle way you could. You only had a few minutes before Transfiguration. Even if you left now, you’d be still be tardy. 

“Yes, I nearly forgot you had other classes,” he said, noticing your distraction. 

“I apologize, sir. I’m sure Professor McGonagall will understand if you need to keep me longer.”

“Nonsense,” he said, waving his hand. A piece of parchment flew in front of him, followed by a quill from one of the student tables. One of his desk drawers opened, an inkwell shooting out and onto his desk, the cap unscrewing and falling beside it. “I will let you go, though let me write you a slip. I’d hate for you to earn a detention due to my error.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you said, picking up your bag as you stood. He handed you the parchment, following you to the hatch. “Thank you for the tea, as well.”

“You’re welcome, Miss L/N,” he said, watching as you climbed down. Once you were at the bottom, he went to close the hatch, saying one last thing before he did, “Until Wednesday.”

You offered him a nod before spinning around to hurry down the steps, hoping McGonagall would show you some much needed leniency. 

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Mary furrowed her brows, leaning closer to the parchment as she read it, “Describe the Pipwinkle, or Van Allen, radiation belt.”

“Energetic charged particles captured by a planet's magnetosphere. Muggle James Van Allen discovered them in the late fifties, but wizard astronomer Nahla Pipwinkle discovered them in eighteen twenty-one,” you said, your hand unconsciously rubbing at your jaw. 

Dorcas snorted, shaking her head without looking up from her textbooks. Out of all the subjects, she always found Astronomy to be the most confusing. 

“Okay,” Mary began, “what’s a type 1-A supernova?”

“A supernova that occurs in binary systems, next,” you answered proudly, leaning back in your chair. 

Mary pressed her lips. “It says more here…”

You groaned, your head tipping back. “Uh, it can only happen when one of the stars is a white dwarf.”

Lily grinned at you from the other side of the table, forgetting her own schoolwork. “Very good!”

“You don’t even know any of this stuff,” you said, sitting up straight again. “I could be wrong every time and you’d have no idea.”

“I still think you’re going to do great,” she said, her smile still as sweet as pie. 

“Thanks, Lils,” you chuckled, turning away so you wouldn’t have to look at her any longer. These days it was only getting harder and harder to face her, to acknowledge her kindness. 

It was Thursday, meaning it was going on two weeks since you and James kissed, a week since he told you the details of his and Lily’s breakup. You were becoming obsessive, thinking about the timeline more often than it was healthy. At every point you had a memory to attach, a feeling to feel again, all laced with your crimes-against-friendship. 

It was the middle of May fifth year when Marlene came running into the common room, telling you Lily had agreed to go on a date with James. You were mostly surprised and slightly confused, thinking she’d go mad having to spend an entire day with him, dumping him as soon as they got back to the castle. That hadn’t occurred. Rather, Lily came up to the room with an unusual look in her eyes, vaguely dreamy and a bit puzzled. Marlene had questioned her endlessly, begging for details, though Lily had stayed tight-lipped. Over the next few days you all realized it was becoming more than James Potter, the annoying guy who pestered your friend, finally getting a single, solitary date. It was more than that, it was the beginning of something far more permanent. You could still remember the letter you had gotten from Lily at the end of July, which at the time had made you incredibly happy for her. 

We’ve been writing to each other almost every other day. When I didn’t send him back something for a few days (when I was in Cornall visiting my aunt), he sent almost three letters a day. My father was livid when he tried to open the front door and hit the pile. I think it’s sweet, though. 

When you came back to school they were inseparable, or rather James was inseparable from Lily. After a while it began to wear on her, but during September and October she allowed it without complaint. Whenever you and she went to the Library, James was by her side. He walked her to classes he didn’t take, begged her to follow him to quidditch, hung out with her by the fire every single night. Remus, Sirius, and Peter were necessary add-ons to the growing list of regulars, their idiosyncrasies becoming nothing more than ordinary. At some point you shuffled around your spots in the Great Hall to combine into what Sirius called “A supergroup, y’know, like Zeppelin?” By the end of term it was too far gone to reverse. You were all friends whether you liked it or not, and for the most part, you did. 

“Oh, aren’t they so sweet?” Lily said, sarcastic as ever. 

Dorcas, James, Sirius and Peter were over by the radio in the common room, screaming at the hunk of wires and wood as if it would make a difference in the way the Holyhead Harpies were playing. They all wanted them to lose, though by the sound of it, they were playing well. 

“Get ‘em, you bastard!” Sirius leaned over the table, his hands gripping the side like his life depended on it. 

“No!” Dorcas screamed, slamming her hand onto James’s shoulder in a fit of excitement.

“Ow!”

You couldn’t remember if the Harpies had lost or not, only that you found the display of opposition to be funny and oddly heartwarming. It was November, and only a year prior Dorcas’s quidditch-based friendship with James and Sirius rarely extended past the pitch. There was something gnawing at your chest, however, something beautiful and ugly at the same time. You realized that you were going to miss James over Christmas far more than you should, certainly more than you would Remus, or Sirius, or Peter. You purposefully did not connect this to the way you thought he always seemed more alive than anyone else in the room. Everything he did was like a booming call out to the world in its entirety: I am here and I am living. But no, you told yourself, that is not why you’ll miss him. 

“What is the name of the largest star cluster and what are its attributes?”

Mary’s voice brought you back to life, your eyes snapping away from where they had been gazing at the tapestry of a lion wearing a fez. 

“Godric, Mary, I’m sorry,” you said, checking your wristwatch. “I’ve made you do this for an hour.”

She shrugged. “That's okay, I’m procrastinating doing my DADA homework.”

You chuckled, grabbing your study sheet that was sitting in front of her, “Go do your work.”

“Fine,” she drawled, pulling out her things from her bag. “I really hate DADA, though.”

“Do you hate DADA or Taurisus?” Dorcas said, raising her brows. 

“Both,” said Mary, throwing herself over her parchment with a huff, her head resting on the table. “I think he had a vendetta against me.”

“He doesn’t have a vendetta against you,” Lily said, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Yes, he does,” Mary mumbled.  

“You know who doesn’t hate you,” Marlene began, her smile growing. Mary lifted her head, her fringe sticking out in awkward places as she peeked at Marlene. “That guy you’ve been seeing.”

Mary dropped her head again, letting out a long noise of embarrassment. 

You started to laugh, your hand pulling at his jumper where your arms were wound around his neck. James continued to kiss down the side of your face, smiling into your skin. 

“Stop! That tickles!”

He left one last kiss on your cheek before his head popped back up. You made a show of disgust, wiping your face with a grimace. 

“We shouldn’t do this here, you know,” you said, glancing around the passage. It was empty, though there was a chance someone could walk through at any moment. You didn’t think anyone but your little group knew about it, though it was still an unnecessary risk. 

James’s hair was illuminated behind him by a small torch, a halo of curls around his head. You ran a hand over them to smooth them down, though as soon as you pulled away, they went back to the way they were before. 

“I know,” he said, his head tilting as his eyes roamed across your face. “We’ll have to think of some better hiding spots.”

“There's always the boathouse,” you suggested. 

He pondered it for a moment, ultimately shaking his head with a scrunched nose. “The boathouse isn’t very romantic.”

“And the Basil passage is?” 

“Don’t make me feel worse,” he said, a hint of woeful longing passing over his expression, leaving as soon as it arrived. He touched the side of your face, gentle enough to make you shiver. “You deserve better than this.”

“Stop with that,” you chided, giving him a stern look. “I’m the reason we’re here, remember? Merlin knows what we’d be doing if it were up to you.”

He smiled, bright enough to light up the narrow corridor. “I’d borrow Sirius’s guitar and write a really cheesy song and perform it in the common room, and you’d pretend that you hated it, but really you’d find it charm—”

“All right, all right,” you said, your ears burning up at the thought. “You don’t even play the guitar.”

“I’d learn for you,” he said, his hand moving down to your chin, held between his forefinger and thumb. 

Your smile was coy, half hidden as you bit your lip. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, though it did sound like something he might do.

“Don’t you have the prefect’s meeting soon?” you asked, if only to move the subject off of his desire to make grand gestures of love. You still felt guilty over suppressing them, even if they’d made you die of embarrassment without the added complication of your relationship being kept secret. You realized this was likely the most bottled-up he’s ever been in his entire life, even worse than before he kissed you. 

“Probably,” he said, not seeming to think the matter of making it on time was all that pressing. 

You pulled back a bit to look at him, his hand falling from your face and onto your shoulder. “You have to be there, you know, given that you’re Head Boy.”

“Lily can hold down the fort till I get there,” he said, his voice dropping. “I’ll deal with her complaining for my girl.” 

“Don’t talk about me in the third person, you weirdo,” you laughed, cut short when he leaned in to kiss you, short and sweet. As soon as he gave you an ounce of leeway you stepped out of his arms, knowing that the longer you stayed, the harder it’d be to leave. “I’ll see you at dinner,” you said, slowly walking backwards to savor the moment just a second longer.

“Don’t wanna come and watch? I can hide you under the cloak,” he said, flashing you his most persuasive, suave smile. 

“Maybe another time, hotshot.” You finally turned to leave, laughing as he called out to you one last time. 

“And I’m all yours!”

In a minute or so you arrived at the portrait of Basil Fronsac, pushing it open just enough to peek into the Grand Staircase. There were a few Ravenclaws chattering on the levels above you, the rest walking below. You jumped out, shutting it behind you as quickly as you could. The passageway was not the most coveted of them, as it only led to the boathouse, though it was agreed upon that you’d all try to keep them as secret as possible. 

As you headed up towards the fourth floor, you nearly missed him lurking on the platform. He was wearing his usual all-black ensemble, his hands hidden within his pockets. You stopped, your nerves alight as you reached into the back of your trousers for your wand, holding it at your side. You glanced across the staircase at the Ravenclaws, though their voices were growing faint as they moved into the third floor corridor, soon out of sight. Below, the other students did not seem to notice your one-sided standoff, going about their own business. 

You stayed standing at the base of the stairs, watching as Severus paced back and forth, muttering something under his breath. You could not make out what he was saying, only knowing that your hand was beginning to quiver, your muscles tensed as you thought about all the routes you could take back to the common room that did not involve passing him. 

No, I’m a Gryffindor.

You took the first step slowly, the others coming easier the closer you got to him. Halfway up he caught you out of the corner of his eye, his head whipping around to look at you. Again, you halted, a small rush of fear washing through you as he continued to stare, frigid like ice whipping your cheek raw. 

Your face hardened, determination replacing your anxiety as you flew up, moving to brush past him at a near jog. 

“Wait!” 

You were a quarter ways up the fifth floor steps, almost to safety, though you still stopped. He didn’t speak, staying where he was as you deliberated with yourself, your hand squeezing the stone railing. Eventually, you turned around, noticing that his hair was tucked behind his ears, revealing an unusual display of emotion in his expression. For once it was not blank, but rather ambivalent, a reluctant knit in his brows. He took his hands from his pockets, his wand nowhere in sight. 

“I’m—” he began, his mouth closing around his next words. 

For a reason even unknown to yourself, his reluctance got under your skin, hitting a nerve that sent a jolt of anger rising through your chest and straight out your mouth. “Spit it out or leave me alone.”

Startled, he pulled back a bit, swallowing as his eyes darted around the large stairwell. They found yours again, hauntingly ordinary. “May I speak to you…someplace else?”

For once, he seemed earnest, enough to replace a fraction of your fear with curiosity. You began to remember him how he used to be, always a bit strange, shrinking back where no one could see. He used to be a boy following Lily with a stack of books, clever and frightened. Now it was you who were frightened of him. For a brief instant you saw him the way Lily must, a friend lost to an unimaginable darkness. 

You nodded, surprising even yourself. He glanced behind him into the corridor, turning back to you with a nervous twitch. 

“There's an empty classroom,” he mumbled, though even from your distance you caught it well enough. 

He didn’t wait for you to walk back down before he left the staircase, leading you through an adjacent corridor. You still held your wand as he opened a small door, poking his head through for a moment before heading inside. He closed it behind you, his pale hands lingered on the doorknob as you took a few steps into the classroom, just to be safe. 

“If I so much as see your wand, I’ll curse you. I don’t care how many detentions they give me,” you said, watching as he took his hand away. 

He gave you a single, curt nod, remaining silent for a beat as his head bent towards the floor. “How’d you find out?” he asked under his breath.

You set your jaw as he lifted his eyes, looking at you through his lashes. When you didn’t give him an answer he gaze drifted away again, as if he couldn’t speak while seeing your face. 

“I wasn’t going to do it.”

You could hear your breath shaking as you wondered what to say. “What do you mean?” 

He walked further into the classroom, his steps short and purposeful. “I wasn’t going to poison you. I was brewing Veritaserum, but I told them it was something else, one of my own,” he paused, turning so you could see his face. “I wasn’t going to give you the Veritaserum, either. I had some Hair-Raising potion to use instead.”

You were getting a little more used to taking in shocking news, though Severus’s story was less than believable. You weren’t sure how to play your cards right, or if you had any cards to begin with. 

“Where were you for those two weeks?” you asked, deciding not to let him know you were doubting his truthfulness. 

“The Ministry.” 

His answer made you run cold, prompting a thousand more questions than you had before. “The Ministry?” 

His eyes darted away, his shoulders slumping beneath his black robes. “They questioned us, all separately. I told them what they needed to know.”

“What they needed to know?” you scoffed. “If you told the truth you’d all be sitting in Azkaban right n—”

“I didn’t lie,” he spat, losing his childlike countenance and returning to his former self. 

You were taken aback, your feet moving forward on their own accord. “What did you tell them?” you demanded, stopping a meter shy of him. 

His lip curled, his thin face dragged down by what seemed to be an immeasurable weight. 

“I told them everything I just told you,” he paused, his eyes darkening like a storm rolling in on the horizon, obscuring the sun. “You’re lucky I was with them. Mulciber would have done it himself if I hadn’t insisted he’d get caught. It would’ve been sloppy, too.”

Your heart dropped, though you kept your face severe and unrevealing, lest he get any clever ideas. “Done what?” 

“I think you can guess,” he whispered, ominous in the air.

You swallowed, watching as his eyes softened again, almost sorry for you. “Why didn’t you do it? I’m sure you must hate me, given who I’m friends with.”

“Lily,” the word fell like gravel, dinging off your imaginary armor. 

“Is that why you’re telling me this?” you asked through a breath of shock. 

He nodded once, his hair falling back into his face. 

You took another step forward, just close enough to see the crease between his brows. “Why did they let you go?”

“Wilkes’s father, I assume,” he said, looking away. If it were anyone else, you’d think he was feeling shame. “The prosecutor said they lacked suitable evidence to retain us any longer.”

“Lack of evidence? We didn’t even testify!” The anger you had thus far kept down was beginning to fester, the thought of the Ministry allowing Mulciber to walk out of their door becoming too much to bear. 

Your eyes shot to Snapes’s arms, concealed under heavy robes. As your will to keep your cool shattered you flew forward, grabbing at his wrists. He tried to pull away, cursing as he struggled against your grip. You pushed up his sleeve before he could get away, though there was nothing marking his pale skin. As you attempted to reach for the other he twisted out of your grasp, sending you stumbling back. 

You saw him reach into his pocket as you steadied yourself, your hand moving faster as you whipped out your own wand, pointing it at his face. 

“Stop!” 

He obeyed, slowly straightening. Both his hands fell back down at his sides, his fingers curling into fists. He looked like a cornered animal, searching for an escape. You didn’t give him one, your heart pounding as you kept your wand forward, your eyes never leaving his face. 

“Show me the other,” you barked, your breath beginning to shake. When he didn’t move, your voice grew even harsher, “Do it!”

His hands unclenched, reaching to push up his other sleeve. He thrust his bare arm in front of you, showing that it bore no mark, just like the other. Still, you kept your wand at the ready, your feet planted into the floor just as James had shown you. 

“Stupid halfwit,” he hissed. “You’ll be dead before you’re twenty.”

You could feel your jaw quiver, closing your mouth as tightly as you could. You tried to remember every spell you had practiced in the RoR, though your mind was going blank. All you could recall was your first and only duel, the feeling of bleeding on the floor of the corridor. 

“And you’ll be the cause?” you asked, low and biting. 

“No.” He straightened his shoulders, almost poised. “You saw, I’m not one of them.”

“But you will be,” you said, your whole body hot with untethered rage. You didn’t care that he didn’t have the mark, that he claimed to have been double crossing Mulciber and his gang. You couldn’t trust him, every word out of his mouth meaning little in the way of fact. “By the summer you’ll be climbing the ranks, you slimy little—”

“I see Potter has rubbed off on you,” he said his name like a curse, his expression contorted with deep seeded hatred. 

You couldn’t speak, swallowing down the last of your sentence. Your throat was growing tight, your eyes burning.

“Who's taken it?” you shouted, though it came out broken, revealing the real meaning of your question. You knew Snape must have caught it, the thought which haunted the nightmares of your friend. Did Regulus have it, or is it not too late?

Snape took a step forward, then another, the sound of his feet light against the floor. He stopped when his chest nearly touched the tip of your wand, though he made no move for his own. His eyes fixed upon yours, cold and unsettling. There was something else behind them, however, something like the ghost of sympathy. 

“Let me go, or soon I will not be so kind.”

“Tell me,” you demanded, though you were quickly losing your confidence. “Has he? Is Regulus one of them?”

“He will be,” he said, strings of hair falling over his eyes, “though he can be persuaded.”

Severus side-stepped you, moving around towards the door. You spun, your wand dropping to your side as you watched him leave, unsure why you were allowing him to get away without a fight. Too many questions still flooding your mind, questions that he could answer, if he was willing. He threw open the door, not looking back as he walked through.

You stared into space for Godric knows how long, your mouth ajar, not knowing what to do. The first thing you thought of was Sirius, the looks he gave his brother in the corridors, watching his black head of hair disappear into the crowd without so much as a second glance, as if they weren’t related. Regulus’s eyes, dark and hollow, seemed blind to his brother, to you, to anyone who Sirius could possibly call a friend. Before you started to hang out with Sirius you barely noticed Regulus, though even you could see the difference in him over the years. These days he could barely hold his shape, a phantom in the company of the living. 

Still, he hadn’t taken the mark. Though it may be little, there was time. 

A switch flicked inside of you, sending you dashing towards the door and down the corridor towards the tower. There was no sign of Snape as you ran up the staircase, brushing past students with half-finished apologies. You were panting by the time you made it to the Fat Lady, saying the password between heavy breaths. 

“Dragon fire.”

“Always in such a rush, you are,” she said, side-eyeing you as she swung open. 

You climbed through and into the common room as fast as you could, skirting to a stop to look around. There was no sign of Sirius anywhere, only Dorcas and Mary at one of the tables near the back, a pile of Sugar Quill and Jelly Slug wrappers in front of them.

“Have you seen Sirius?” you asked as soon as you reached them, completely frenzied. 

They shared a look, Dorcas more intrigued than anything. 

“I think he’s with some girl,” Mary said, turning back to you. “He left about a half hour ago—”

“Where?” you asked immediately. 

“I don’t know, he never said—”

You spun around to leave, Dorcas interrupting you with a shout of your name. 

“You’ll be scared for life!”

You didn’t respond as you rushed towards the portrait, your heart pounding with every step. As soon as you made it out into the corridor again you crashed into someone, slamming into their chest before tumbling to the floor. Dazed, you looked up to find Lily staring down at you, her textbooks scattered around her. 

“Have you seen Sirius?” you asked frantically, standing up again. 

“Wha— why are you in such a rush?” she stuttered, looking at you as if you had gone mad. 

As time went by you grew more and more agitated, your hands flailing as you spoke, “I just need to talk to him, like, right now. You haven’t seen him?”

She shook her head, too puzzled to adequately answer. 

“I gotta go,” you said, moving to sprint down the corridor. “Sorry about your books!”

You had a few ideas of where he might be, if he really was with a girl. He never took them to a passage or the RoR, nor did he frequent any of the other commonly used snogging spots. Sirius was a creative, after all. 

You took a left towards the Astronomy Tower, though when you walked inside you did not head up the winding staircase to the observation deck, but down towards the small storage room near its base. It housed old telescopes and planetary models, sometimes to be tinkered with by the more zealous Astronomy students. Mostly it remained unvisited by anyone, making you wonder why you and James hadn’t thought of it earlier when you made your rendezvous in the Basil passage. 

The enchanted ceiling twinkled above you, though you had little mind to be captured by its beauty, whipping open the storage room door without listening to hear if you were about to walk in on something that made you want to bleach your eyes. On a positive note, Sirius was inside, though you could hardly speak a single word, the breath taken from your lungs. 

“Y/N!” Marlene gasped, pushing Sirius away. He stumbled back, hitting one of the telescopes and sending it falling to the floor with a loud clunk. 

“You and, you and…?” you were practically incoherent, your thoughts scrambled at the inconceivable notion present before you. 

Sirius crossed his arms, glowering while Marlene stared at you as if you were McGonagall about to give her a month's worth of detentions. 

“When— when did you,” you said, motioning between Marlene and Sirius. 

“Uhh,” she began, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt, “only, like, a week-ish.”

“A week…ish,” you repeated, still trying to understand how in the world this possibly could have happened. 

“You’re one to talk,” Sirius scoffed, almost sneering as he finally looked at you. “You can romp around with Prongs like you got hit with Cupid’s fucking arrow, but we can’t have our fun?”

“We are not romping around,” you said, flashing him the same look. “And besides its— wait, you told him?”

Marlene shrunk away a bit, nodding with a pained expression. “Yeah, it sort of came up.”

“When?” you shrieked.

“I don’t know,” she whined, growing animated as she looked between you and him. “He already knew that you fancied him, and it was so nice having someone to complain to when you got all ‘oh, he’s never gonna like me!’ And then when you told me you guys were a thing I was dying because I just wanted to tell someone and…you understand, right?” 

She spoke so quickly as you had trouble following, though you got the gist. You groaned, rubbing your eyes until you saw stars. 

“Whatever, that's the least of my worries,” you said, trying to forget what you had walked into. 

You didn’t have time to unpack the horrors of Marlene snogging Sirius, even if you did want to strangle them. The fact that Marlene made no mention of having any interest in Sirius whatsoever was not lost on you, though you’d just have to deal with that another time. 

“Sirius,” you said, regaining your focus, “there's sort of something I have to tell you.”

“If it's that you’re actually in love with me, you’re too late,” he said dryly, running a finger along the tube of a telescope, inspecting the dust left behind. 

“It’s about your brother.”

His hand dropped, the playful curve of his lips vanishing as he looked at you. “What about him?” he asked, poorly hiding his surprise.  

“I just had a very weird conversation with Snape,” you began, trying to word things as gently as you could. “He told me that your brother would, y’know, fully commit soon.”

“He said that? Exactly that?” Sirius asked, taking a few steps towards you. 

You shook your head. “I asked him if he, your brother, had taken the mark. Snape said no, but it seemed like it would happen sooner rather than later, maybe this summer or something. But he also said it wasn’t inevitable, that he could be persuaded.”

Sirius’s stare was blank, off somewhere behind you. You shared a glance with Marlene, who had been looking at the back of his head, completely aghast. Regulus was almost never mentioned, and if he was, it was only in passing. The only other time you had ever seriously spoken with Sirius about his family was a few months ago, and even then, the subject of their involvement in the war had not been breached. 

“You need to talk to him, Sirius,” you began again. “You need to tell him to come back with you this summer. He might listen to you, he might have second thoughts—”

“He didn’t have second thoughts when my parents threw me out, when they sent me to live on the street,” Sirius snapped, awakening himself from his daze. 

You wanted to weep as you took in his hair, the same as his brothers. The same jaw, the same nose, so similar yet so incredibly different. “He was just a boy—”

“So was I,” his words fell heavy in the room, the air boiling. 

“Sirius,” you whispered, trying your best to make your voice sound like Lily’s. You were in no position to ask anything of her, though for Sirius’s sake you wished she was here, that she had been the one to find out and not you. She could word things just right, calming even the worst tempests. “He was fifteen, just as scared as you were, maybe more.” He seemed to recoil, his gaze flickering to the wall. “He’s not like you, even I know that and I’ve never even spoken to him before. If it were me in that house, Merlin, I don’t think I’d ever have gotten out. Most people— most people would’ve stayed on that doorstep until they let you back in.”

He didn’t move, looking as if he was soaking wet. You were growing desperate to convince him even though you knew you ought to wait for someone else to speak with him, for Remus to talk his way through his obstinance, “He’s your brother, you have to try. Think about if you don’t, if you let him…it’ll haunt you, Sirius, I know it will.”

He ran a hand over his face, suddenly seeming as if he had stayed up three nights straight. He let out a long sigh, exhausted even by the notion. 

“He’s gone. You don’t know him like I do,” his voice was filled with a sorrow you hoped you’d never feel, charred on his bones. 

“You might not anymore,” Marlene said softly. 

Sirius glanced back to look at her, his expression hidden from your view. For a moment they each simply stared at one another, Marlene’s eyes pleading. He turned back around, moving past you to leave without another word. You and Marlene followed him out into the corridor, though he was already walking up the stairs, clearly with the desire not to be trailed. 

“What should we do?” Marlene asked, turning towards you. 

Your arms felt like dumbbells hanging off your shoulders as you considered her question, the sound of his footsteps fading above you. “Nothing.”

⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆｡⋆☆⋆

Tag List: @floverisland @ilovejamespottersomuch @googie-jeon @tvnile

[theblack-dog]

Preview for an upcoming project.

TW: Blood

“What's wrong, Pony?” Darry asks, noticing Ponyboy’s awkward position, looking almost like he was trying to duck under the table.

“N-nothing,” Ponboy says, his hand covering the lower half of his face, although the blood was quickly beginning to seep through his fingers, running down the back of his hand.

“Shit kid, you okay?” Two-Bit says, his eyes widening slightly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Ponyboy says, the blood now beginning to drip onto the table despite Ponyboy’s best efforts to stop the rapidly increasing flow.

“Johnny, throw me that towel, please,” Darry says, pointing to the dish towel hanging around the kitchen sink, his voice slightly urgent. Johnny nods, picks up the towel, and tosses it over to Darry, who quickly approaches Ponyboy with it.

“Here, little buddy. Let me help," Darry says gently. However, as soon as Ponyboy removes his hand from his face to grab the towel, a big stream of blood shoots out from his nose in an unnaturally powerful way, almost like a high pressure hose.

It immediately soaks the front of Darry’s white tank top, as well as his face and hair, leaving almost his entire upper body a dark red color.

“Oh, my god!” Ponyboy screams, slamming his hand back onto his face and quickly standing from his chair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he says, his breathing heavy and voice panicked as he bolts out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom.

Darry stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen for several moments, the shock of the situation leaving him petrified. He wasn’t the only one, though. Johnny, Two-Bit, and even Dallas were also as stiff as statues, completely bewildered by what they just saw.

“Fuck!” Dallas suddenly shouts, his hands going to his hair, tugging it slightly. “What the fuck was that?”

Darry didn’t say anything as he brought his hand to his mouth, wiping the blood around it away, spitting the small amount that managed to get past his lips.

.

.

So, fair warning, this isn't coming out anytime soon lol.

I made a promise to myself that I would stop starting new fics without finishing my current ones.

However

I got this idea a couple months ago and I've been obsessing over it ever since. So much so, that I've been writing little scenes of it every now and then, and I figured I'd share a little.

I'm not gonna reveal much about it right now, but the way I'd describe this fic would be "Ponyboy sickfic to the absolute max."

I've also been wanting to write a horror au for a while, so this should be fun ;)

[tsukisangel]

on top of the world <3

you sat on the bench as the coach was talking to the players about the upcoming games. you listened, trying to figure out what would be important for you to do. you studied the team’s faces, especially bokuto’s, making sure none of them seemed discouraged. bokuto did seem a bit upset over something. you couldn’t exactly tell what. you’d have to ask. the coach finished his talk, handing you the clipboard. then he was off with a short goodbye, and the players started to clean up the gym. you looked at the clipboard, humming a bit. then you set it down, trying to help the guys clean up. they never let you. bokuto insisted that you never had to help them clean up. you weren’t the one playing, they were. the others listened to him and agreed with him. sometimes you were surprised that he was captain, but other times it just seemed right for him. he was childish at times, sure, but he was definitely a good leader to his team. you sort of had a crush on him. that was definitely not important though.

you watched as they cleaned up, making a list in your phone’s notes to keep track of the things you’d need to do for the upcoming games. once they were done, they all went over to the locker rooms to get changed. all except bokuto and akaashi. you looked at them, seeing bokuto talking to akaashi about something. akaashi shook his head at him and gave him a sympathetic look, then walked away to the lockers. bokuto’s face fell, and he looked around. his eyes caught yours, and you walked over to him. “what’s wrong?” you asked.

“i need to practice my spikes more. i need more practice.” he said. “akaashi has to study tonight, so he can’t help.” he pouted.

you examined his pouty, sad face. well, you didn’t have anything important to study for. you’d done most of your homework while waiting for practice to get started. “i could help.” you offered, smiling warmly at him. “i might not play volleyball, but maybe i can be of some assistance.”

his eyes brightened and his frown turned into a wide grin. “really?” he asked excitedly.

“yeah.” you shrugged, spotting akaashi walk out of the locker rooms. “i’m not a nerd like akaashi.” you teased him, looking over at him. he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“thanks!” bokuto said happily, getting the basket with the balls. the rest of the guys started coming out, murmuring about bokuto still training, and staying after practice again. you shot them all a warning look. they quieted. they were his friends. they knew he’d do these things. he wasn’t forcing them to stay after, so what was the problem? you waved at all of them as they walked out, and they waved back and continued their original conversations.

you stood next to the basket. “you just want me to throw them to you?” you asked.

he nodded. “yeah. you’ve seen ‘kaashi do it, right?” he asked.

“uh, yeah.” you said. he seemed like he doubted it a bit, but he got in position anyway. you picked up the ball and threw it towards him clumsily. he didn’t hit it, but that was definitely your fault. 

he went over to you after grabbing the ball. “let me show you.” he said. you nodded, watching him throw the ball. “like that! does that help?” he asked. he was never good with words.

you picked up a ball, and threw it how he showed you. you were still a little clumsy, but your arms just needed to get used to the movements. “was that good?” you asked.

“yeah! perfect!” he grinned, grabbing both balls and setting them back in the basket. then he got in position.

you threw a ball to him again, and this time he hit it perfectly. he didn’t seem happy, so you kept throwing balls his way. you both kept going for an hour and a half, until bokuto sat down on the floor after a line shot that seemed like it hurt to hit, bringing his knees up with his arms lazily wrapped around them, only connecting by his fingertips due to how wide his legs were spread. his hair was losing it’s spikiness, strands starting to fall down over his face and sticking out of place. you furrowed your brows, walking over to him and sitting  next to him. “bokuto… is everything alright?” you asked.

“we’re going to nationals.” he said, only facing the floor. “and i’m not ready.” he said. 

“you’ve been to nationals before.” you said, a bit confused. “what’s the problem now?”

“this is my last one.” he muttered. “this is my last one and i have to do good or i can’t go pro.”

“you’re one of the top five aces in the country! the whole country.” you said. “you’re going to go pro whether you guys win or lose.” you put a hand on his shoulder. “don’t psych yourself out. you’ve been so excited.”

he finally turned his head up to look at you, resting it on his bicep. “you’ll be there?” he asked.

you smiled. “i’ll be there. i’ll be right next to you guys, watching from as close as i possibly can.” you reassured him. “you’ll hear me cheer for you.”

he lifted his head up, moving his hand to hold yours. his legs fell from the movement. he pulled you just slightly closer to him, and you heard your heartbeat in your chest. “i don’t want to disappoint you.” he muttered.

you shook your head. “you could never disappoint me.” you said softly, trying to hide the trembling in your voice as he got even closer. your breathing picked up, and you hoped he didn’t notice.

he held your now shaky hand in one hand, and moved another up to your cheek, holding it so softly, so gently, like you could break. your breath hitched, and he froze. you leaned into his touch though, assuring him that it was okay for him to go on. he looked in your eyes, then down to your lips. “thanks for being here.” he breathed.

“i’m always gonna be here.” you breathed back at him.

you felt his lips brush against yours as he slowly moved closer to yours. “you make me feel like i’m on top of the world.” he said.

this was the calmest and quietest you’d seen him for this much time. it could’ve been minutes, but it felt like hours.

then he closed the gap, and his lips were against yours. he was so gentle with you. his hand holding yours moved to hold your waist instead, to pull you against him. your hands moved to the back of his neck, holding him close to you. once he pulled away from you, you blushed. you could not believe what had just happened. he just grinned wide at you, which made your thoughts float away like butterflies.

you smiled. “confidence restored?” you asked.

“you kiddin’? it hardly left!” you laughed a bit, rolling your eyes at him. he stood and offered a hand to you. you gladly took it, standing up. “i’ll walk you home, let me clean up!” he said, rushing to clean up.

you moved to help, but of course he didn’t let you, so you just sat down and watched him. he threw the volleyballs into the basket, showing off to you and making you laugh. then he rushed to the locker rooms, probably rushed to change, and walked out, completely composed. 

you raised a brow at him as he walked over to you, holding his hand out for you to take. “my lady?” he offered.

you grinned. “thank you.” you took his hand, and he walked you home while holding your hand the whole way. you pressed a kiss to his cheek as a goodbye, and saw him grin and blush as he walked home.

[spiderthread]

sharing the rough initial sketches i did for esen and baoxiang because. because.

[tordoise-x3]

Just my drawigs from today cuz I haven’t been finishing anything 😞

[sharkieboi]

just finished the Broken Earth trilogy and ngl I’m never gonna be the same

[theenderwalker]

moved into my new apartment yesterday. made the foam base for my next fursuit today. let’s fuckin go

[himbodruid]

Crying Wolf

My take on the 105 affinity Secret Times audio 😏

Intended for 18+ readers ONLY. MINORS DNI

Sylus x Reader/You

Breeding kink (probably)-:- marking -:- possessive sex -:- soft sex -:- consent is hot -:- aftercare

Fic Master List

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The soft plinking sounds of the silly game you were playing echoed in the otherwise vacant room. You’d awoken from disturbing dreams in your own bed at the base, and snuck into Sylus’s room. And now you were curled up on his bed and clutching one of his pillows to your chest. He wasn’t home yet and it was a day off for you, but you figured he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his space.

“What are you playing?”

His voice suddenly appearing right next to your ear startled you and made you jump. Your hand struck out on instinct, which he caught with a chuckle before it could connect with his face.

“Shit, Sylus, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Are you trying to scare me?” You settled back down, trying to calm your adrenaline.

“Am I trying to scare you? You’re overthinking it, love.” He chuckled again at your pout.

“Still rude to sneak up on people like that.”

“Meanwhile, Miss Hunter didn’t even notice me when I was this close.” He leaned in, sending your pulse racing again for a different reason. “Your lack of vigilance is worryin-“

With a scowl, you slapped your hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing that sentence. He was right, but you wouldn’t willingly admit it. Could he hardly blame you for feeling safe in his space?

You felt him smile under your hand for a brief moment, before he pulled it away from his mouth and flashed you that devilish half smirk of his. “You’re that eager to shut me up? Oh, you’re gonna need more than just your hands, Kitten.”

The tension that had built in those few seconds was interrupted by the sound of your game ending. Your phone was still in your other hand, but it had been all but forgotten when you got lost in Sylus’s predatory gaze.

“Oops, guess you lost,” he rumbled without breaking eye contact with you. Amusement twinkled in his eye. “Sorry for interrupting your game.”

You cleared your throat and looked away from him. You hated how easily he could get under your skin, with just a simple look from those cat-like crimson eyes of his. You made to return to your game and start again.

“But I remember an hour ago, someone promised to go to bed early starting today.”

“Oh, so you did see my text,” you muttered under your breath. He pretended not to hear you though.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” The smile in his voice made you want to reach out and punch him. Instead, you reined in the impulse and restarted the game.

“I haven’t forgotten. This is a sleep aid game,” you said with a huff, pointedly ignoring his presence now.

“You…play a game to help you fall asleep. This is the first time I’ve heard of it.” He made a noise of suspicion and leaned in again. “Looks like someone’s trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and scooted over on his bed. He rose from the chair he’d been occupying and sat next to you at your beckoning, and raised a brow when you handed him your phone with a freshly started game.

“Why are you giving it to me? I’m not into these little games.” He said gruffly.

“Just try it,” you say. “I’m trying to prove my innocence here.”

With a chuckle, he accepted your phone. “Alright, we can do that. Scoot over.”

You shifted over some more, placing the pillow you’d been cuddling back against the headboard. He stretched out languidly beside you, resting against the pillow you’d just placed, and held out an arm to you.

“Come here, rest your head on my arm,” he commanded softly. You smiled and laid beside him, where his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and immediately his hand began tracing soft patterns against your arm.

“Now then. Shall we get started?” You explained basic concepts of the game to him and showed him what to do, trying not to zero in your focus on his deft fingers lazily brushing your skin. After three sheep appeared on screen, Sylus paused.

“So the whole point of this game is to count sheep?”

“I mean, I tried to tell you it was a sleep aid game, but you didn’t believe me,” you laughed. He smirked back.

“Well, it is boring enough to make anyone fall asleep.”

With a playful punch to his chest, you took up your phone again and continued playing. You were trying hard not to focus on all the points where your bodies touched, trying to cool the heat that was slowly settling into you as he continued to trail his hand on you. You were trying not to lose yourself in the smoky spice scent of him. You were pretty sure he could feel your racing heartbeat, maybe even hear it, so you threw your focus into the game and tried hard to ignore how much you wanted to straddle him at that moment.

“Hmm…how many have we counted?” His voice was rough, like he was distracted. It took all of your effort not to squirm against him.

“You’d know if you’d stay focused,” you replied, thankful that your voice was steady. You were entirely too conscious of the fact that his shirt was stretched taut across his chest, and the sleep pants were slung low enough on his hips you could almost see his v-line.

“It’s not that I’m unfocused. Your hair is tickling my neck,” he rumbled. You scowled at him again.

“Seriously?” Was all you could think to say. He chuckled.

“Yes, it tickles. Only a little, though. Do you need me to help you tame this unruly hair of yours?”

Before you could give him an answer, his hand reached up and brushed strands of hair away from your face. His palm lingered on your cheek for the briefest of moments before moving down your neck. The action in no way removed your hair from his vicinity, but his focus was solely on you in that moment. Your breath hitched as his palm traveled further and then flattened against your collar bone. His eyes followed the contour of your neck before resting on the dainty necklace that rested in the hollow of your throat. You could see hunger ignite in his eyes when he saw it.

“Hmmh. Isn’t this the collarbone necklace I gave you?” He murmured while fingering the pendant. “My taste is pretty good, I guess.”

“Yes,” you say almost dumbly. “I love it.”

“It is very pretty,” he murmured, leaning over you. You couldn’t tell if he meant the necklace or your neck as he buried his face there. You thought you could feel his lips ghosting over your skin and the soft gasp that escaped you was nearly involuntary.

“S-Sylus, what are you doing?” You questioned, hating how breathless your voice was. He took a moment before replying, not bothering to pull himself away from you.

“Nothing. I just thought,” he said, punctuating with a soft kiss to your collarbone, “this spot was very enticing.”

His mouth descended onto your collarbone once more, a full open-mouth kiss that you couldn’t hold back your gasp at. Teeth scraped against your skin and then he latched onto you in such a way that you knew would leave a mark. It hurt at first, the aggressive pull of his mouth, but then there was a zing of rapture that flowed through you when he released you. His breath tickled across your now-damp skin and you shivered.

“It tastes just as I imagined it to be,” he murmured. “I wonder what this will taste like.”

Sylus moved to the opposite side of your collarbone now, his hand cradling your head while he gave the same treatment to that side. You tried your hardest to calm your thundering heart, to quell the heat that raced through you, to soothe the blush that spread mercilessly from your face to your now nearly exposed chest. You felt embarrassed at how quickly and easily he was able to turn you on. The sounds of the game came back to you and you desperately tried to return your attention to it. This didn’t escape Sylus’s notice.

“What? How many sheep are there now?” He nuzzled into your neck. “You’re still concerned about them? Looks like I haven’t gotten your undivided attention yet.”

“S-Sy,” you started, unable to find words when your breath came short.

“I don’t like you being so far away from me,” he growled before rolling his bulk atop you. You dropped your phone onto the mattress, the game forgotten now. “Come closer, let’s cuddle.”

You knew your face was aflame as he leaned down to nuzzle and kiss your neck. In a desperate bid to escape embarrassment, you mutter the lamest excuse you could. “B-but Sylus, it’s too warm.”

“To be honest,” a kiss on your neck, full of tongue, interrupted his thought, “it…can get even warmer. Than. This.”

His mouth found yours then, and he coaxed you open to him so that his tongue could plunge in and tangle with yours. You inhaled sharply, unable to keep your hands from him any longer. You kissed him back in equal fervor, not entirely ignorant to the hard length of him resting against your belly. Your hands combed through his silk-soft hair, all but holding him to you.

A sudden plink from your discarded phone brought you back to your senses. You were kissing Sylus. The two of you had been intimate in other ways, but nothing nearly as far as this yet. Holding hands, quick pecks on the cheek, chaste kisses here and there. But nothing so all-consuming, so passionate.

“Hmm? Oh. We lost,” rumbled Sylus against your lips. You turned your head and looked at your phone.

“Hmm. Looks like a wolf snuck in because you weren’t focused on our sheep,” you admonished lightly.

“Yeah. All of them were eaten,” Sylus replied with a smug smirk. He returned to burying his face against your neck. “How do you think those sheep were eaten? Like…this?”

He raked his teeth against the slope of your neck. You didn’t even have the mind to feel embarrassed about the moan that slipped from you.

“Or…like this?” His lips moved to the other side. A heavy, charged sigh escaped from him as he all but worshipped your neck. Kisses, bites, even rolling his tongue against your pulse. You were unravelling beneath him, and then his hand had the audacity to add to the sensations by running down the length of you. Your breaths came in short gasps and you longed to completely wrap yourself around him.

“I take back what I said about the game. It does have some redeeming qualities.”

The comment was so sudden, you couldn’t muster a response. All you could do was watch him with eyes half-lidded by desire while he elaborated.

“For instance, it is very realistic.” He gave another one of those heated sighs, followed by a soft growl while his hand continued to roam your body. You were fully aware now of his cock resting heavy against you, still held by the prison of his sleep pants. Somewhere he had wedged a knee between your own and was slowly sliding his way fully between your thighs. You could feel the heat blazing in your face and looked away from his assessing and possessive gaze.

It just happened that your attention fell back to your phone.

“Where are your eyes going? Honestly, I don’t think you need to get your phone back.”

You looked back to him, and he hiked your leg up to hook around his hip. The length of him was now pressed against your core, hot and hard.

“If you need a sleep aid, then I can fulfill that role.”

You felt like your brain was going to short circuit. Out of a desperate attempt to hide your madly blushing face, you covered it with the comforter.

“A sheep can’t escape if it’s trapped under the covers,” he said, tugging them away. “So, is this little lamb prepared?”

Another moan escaped you unbidden as he pressed his hips into yours.

“A wolf is coming,” he growled into your ear.

Fuck, I sure hope he will, you thought.

His mouth found yours again, and his roaming hand slipped underneath the cotton tank top you were wearing. Like electricity on your skin, his touch sent shivers through you. His thumb found your breast first, and then the rest of his hand engulfed the mound of flesh. You couldn’t help but arch into his touch, releasing pleased gasps into his fierce kiss.

Next thing you knew, your shirt was pushed up above your breasts and his hot mouth moved to teasing them. His tongue swirled around the nipple of one, while his hand continued kneading the other.

“S-Sylus,” you moaned with a shuddering breath. His teeth scraped against the underside and your hands dug into his scalp at the sensation. Your back bowed, arching firmly into his touch until his mouth moved further down. A blazing trail of kisses and bites all the way down your torso until he came to the hem of your shorts. All the while he kept his crimson gaze locked on your face, thoroughly enjoying the reactions he elicited from you.

He tugged at the hem, offering a silent question to you and going no further until you nodded your consent and lifted your hips for him. He stripped shorts and underwear away in one swift motion, and suddenly you were bared so intimately, so lewdly for him. You tried to pin your knees together, but he was already there, mouth at your hip and drawing out a mark to match the ones on your collarbone.

“I think,” he said, detaching from your skin, “I might enjoy seeing my marks on you a little too much.”

Your gaze landed on the bruise-like mark he left on your hip and you had to agree with him. Something about seeing his smirking mouth hovering there and a hickey darkening was just absurdly hot.

You let your head fall back into the pillow, covering your face with an arm. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Sylus.”

“Is that so?” He chuckled. “If you permit me, I can easily give you a little death, as a treat.”

Somehow your face flamed hotter at his innuendo. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, as you felt his thumb brushing through the soft fringe at your core.

“Mmh,” he growled. “So wet for me already, Kitten.”

And then his tongue followed the touch, and you were lost. A moan escaped from you, your hands flying to tangle once again in his hair. If he hated that you were messing up said hair, he didn’t say a word. In fact, the action seemed to provoke him further and he soon added fingers curling into your cunt. He worked you hard until you spilled over the edge with his name falling from your lips like a chant.

He crawled back up your body, planting a soft kiss before pulling away. He caressed your cheek while he gave you the tenderest of looks. It appeared he wanted to say something, but held himself back. Instead, he opted to lean forward and kiss your forehead.

And then the infuriating man tugged the comforter over you and made to leave.

“Wait, what?” You panicked and grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

“It’s late, Kitten, and you need to sleep.”

“No! I-“ your words were cut off by his chuckle.

“As much as I want to, Kitten, I hadn’t really prepared for sex. I don’t have any protection.”

You eased your shoulders, secretly relieved that he wasn’t rejecting you per se.

“That’s simple, though,” you say, swinging your arm wide and showing him the tiniest of protrusions on the inner side of your arm. “The Association pays for all of us to get temporarily sterilized. Those of us that want it, anyway. It lasts for five years, and I got it put in a few months ago because-“

You cut your words off, completely aware that you were rambling and embarrassing yourself further. You looked away, hating how desperate you sounded. But it was true, after being with Sylus and getting to know him, you wanted to prepare for a ‘just in case’ kinda situation just like this one. When he didn’t move or respond, you began shuffling yourself back under the duvet in awkward self-consciousness.

His hand shot out to stop you, though. “I truly don’t deserve you.”

With that, you were stripped bare before him once again. The duvet was discarded, and his crimson gaze followed every curve and edge of your body. It was like he was trying to memorize the picture of you naked in his bed.

“So damn beautiful,” he growled before falling upon you once again. His kisses were needy and hungry, working to quickly reignite your every sense. Your hands worked to slide his own shirt from his body, discarding it alongside your own clothing. The valleys of his abs called to you and you were unable to resist touching. Your fingers traveled the dips and rise of his torso, earning you panting groans from him. Testing, you allowed one hand to go even further downward. When he didn’t stop you at the hem of his pants, boldness overtook you and you grasped at the prominent bulge over the fabric.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking forward of their own volition. He let his head fall against your chest with rough kisses while you pressed and kneaded the length of him in wonder. He was very clearly a large man as he all but dwarfed your petite frame underneath him, but down there he was also exceptionally large.

“How in the world is this supposed to fit,” you wondered aloud while still stroking him. He chuckled darkly in your ear, rolling his hips into your touch.

“Why don’t we find out, Kitten.”

His mouth engulfed yours again while he worked to strip the pants from his body. His tongue swept into your mouth, undulating in a way that suggested he was about to do that to you with his cock. Finally his hips nestled between your thighs, and you could feel how big he was resting against your body. You opened as wide as you could for him while his hips continued rolling forward and back. While not penetrating, his cock still dragged deliciously against your folds, urging your heart to pick up pace in anticipation.

And then, gods, the moment he pierced you, you wanted to cum. His movement was infuriatingly slow as he allowed you time to become accustomed to his girth first, and then his length last. You let your head fall back into his pillows, his name tumbling from you as you clung to him desperately.

And then he stilled, though you could tell by his shaking that it took all of his effort to hold back.

“Fuck, you feel so good on me, Kitten,” he whined. You wrapped your legs firmly around his waist, ensuring that he couldn’t suddenly change his mind and pull away from you in that moment.

A slight tilt of your hips and a clenching of your walls, and he nearly collapsed atop you at the forceful pleasure that rocketed up his spine. His moan was deep, guttural, and damn near feral. It only goaded you into shifting your hips again to rattle him further. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and fuck the feel of him slamming so impossibly deep into you was almost enough to throw you over the edge.

“Sylus, please,” you whimpered to him. His gaze found yours and locked on as he so slowly pulled himself out, right to the tip. And then his hips rocketed forward and the force of him slamming into you all but ripped his name from you as a scream.

From there, the frenzied coupling reached a crescendo so quickly that neither of you were prepared for the full force of pleasure that toppled you over the edge. His cock was buried in you and responded in kind when your walls fluttered and milked him. You took every last bit he had to offer, and still he wasn’t done with you.

He shifted your legs so that the backs of your knees rested in his elbows, and he all but folded you in half while he pistoned into you. All you could do was cling to him, crying out in the pleasure he ripped so vehemently from you. The new position let him fuck into you even deeper somehow, and gods the way his cock dragged against your inner walls.

And the sounds he made only added fuel to the fire. Grunting moans, harsh whispers of praise, guttural growls. All of them possessed you, making you respond to him in kind between other cries of pleasure. His name became like a prayer with the frequency it tumbled from your lips, and gods when he growled out your name you were gone.

Climax swept through both of you again swiftly, more hot ropes of cum flooding you only to be used as lubricant while he continued to pound into you.

Three times he brought you over the edge and he jumped alongside you. Three times before he finally released your cramping legs and let them rest back around his hips. More marks dotted your body, and you added your own collection to his neck and chest.

Three times your body milked his, and yet he was still so impossibly hard inside you. You would be surprised if you weren’t leaking his cum for days after this.

“Fuck, Kitten, you feel so damn good. I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop fucking you,” he growled.

The pace of his thrusts slowed in reverent worship of your body. You could feel him more fully than the rapid driving of the last three rounds. You could feel how the scooped edge of the head caught and dragged along your walls, tugging and pushing electric shocks of pleasure that coursed through you. And gods the hard push of his hips when he buried fully to the hilt, the feel of his sac compressing against the slick of your combined cum. The sticky feel of it all when he pulls away with the obscene sounds echoing in the room with your twinned heavy breathing. The slow ascent of your pleasure was near infuriating, but you knew that the fall would be much sweeter, more intense.

“This is how I originally wanted to take you,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed the two marks on opposite ends of your collarbone. “But you feel too damn good, I couldn’t control myself.”

You could only respond with a moan as his cock continued to brush against that sweet spot inside you. Your legs slid up his body to bracket his torso, the slight shift just enough to give him even further access.

“Sylus, you feel so fucking good,” you whimpered to him, your nails digging into his back.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. He was doing that a lot, almost as if he was trying to absorb the scent of you.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Take me.”

“Come with me, Kitten.”

At his words and a final hard thrust of his hips, you shattered beneath him. Your body arched off the bed, limbs jerking with your head thrown back into the pillows. His name echoed into the room from your pleasured screams. This climax was the most intense one you’ve ever had, threatening your consciousness with black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. It was like Sylus had lit your entire body on fire with electricity. It crackled through you, your body’s convulsing no longer yours to control as you just tried to continue to cling to him.

You could feel his own orgasm steamroll through him as well. His hips jerked erratically as his cock twitched and pulsed inside you. His moans in your ear were punctuated by panting breaths and guttural growls. His sac grew taut and then he was spilling into you once more. He experienced full body trembling, quivering, spasming, and his desperate moans filled the room with yours.

His cock finally seemed to be through and he slipped from you. He left the bed without a word, coming back seconds later from the bathroom with a warm rag to help clean you up and a cool glass of water that you chugged. You were embarrassed but grateful at his care- though it was almost for naught as the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other in the shower. It seemed like there would be a never ending stream of cum flowing from your cunt with how many times he couldn’t resist burying himself in you.

After several more rounds in various positions, you were finally tucked against him and nodding off to the sleep you should have had at least six hours ago.

__

When you finally did wake, Sylus had stepped out with instructions to the twins to bring you breakfast and whatever else you wanted. Unfortunately for you, Sylus didn’t think about any kind of implications when he directed them to his room instead of your own. To make matters worse, you were bundled in his blankets, looking like you were still exhausted from a night of little to no sleep due to Sylus’s bullshit stamina.

The twins, though, were so obnoxiously delighted by the news that you “finally slept with the boss” that they kept trying to high five you whilst you were trying to fight them away out of embarrassment.

You got no peace that night or day, but it didn’t stop the contented grin that planted itself on your face.

[not-neverland06]

broken promises

pt two

bodyguard!logan howlett x congressman's daughter!reader

a/n: the fact that he was canonically a bodyguard makes me absolutely insane someone congratulate me, I finally figured out how to make my own dividers Summary: He's learned from past mistakes that no matter how tempting the girl is, it's better not to get involved. He just needs some cash, he doesn't give a fuck how pretty you are. He doesn't care about you. He makes it clear he wants nothing to do with you besides seeing you sign his check. But, is that really all he wants? You're not blind to the way he looks at you. 18+ MDNI Shameless smut at the end, I'm not sorry about it at all.

Logan had gotten used to this. The long drawn-out wait to meet with the man who wanted to hire him. He always arrived right on time, not a moment earlier. They all had the same game they liked to play. 

The secretary would greet him, a pretty girl in her 20s that the men were screwing or trying to screw. Then they would make him sit in the lobby for half an hour. They’d apologize by pushing the blame on someone else, saying a meeting had gone on too long. But there wasn’t a meeting. There never was. 

They liked to make themselves seem more important than they were. It was a power game, an intimidation tactic that he had always scoffed at. He didn’t give a fuck what government ties they had or otherwise. He just wanted his paycheck. 

This one was no different. A congressman who had only recently begun to make waves when he started up an anti-mutant agenda. Ironic that he had specifically requested Logan for the very thing he was trying to eradicate. 

There was a buzz and then the secretary was picking up her phone. She spared Logan a fleeting glance before whispering something into the receiver. She looked over at him and he already knew what she was going to say.  “He’s ready for you now.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she gave him a coquettish smile as he made his way towards the large office at the end of the hall. The door was closed when he reached it, three quick knocks and then a quiet Come in. 

The man didn’t even look up to greet him. He continued signing something on his desk. Logan took a seat in one of the chairs, waiting for another few minutes before he was deemed important enough to address. He received a tight smile and narrowed eyes as the man took in the way he was dressed. 

He never dressed up for these things. He’d learned a while ago that a suit wasn’t going to get him any further than his leather jacket was. Might as well be comfortable while talking to these pricks. 

“Had a phone call with an associate of mine. Ran on longer than I meant it to.” Always an excuse, never an apology. 

Logan scoffed and shrugged. “I was fine.”

The man sniffed, “I’m sure. Look, I’ll cut straight to the chase. You come highly recommended by my peers and I need help fast.” Logan nodded, motioning for him to continue. The man’s eyes lingered on his fists for a long while before he finished. “It’s my daughter. Things have been a little rough for her at school, for lack of a better word. Especially since this new campaign started. I just need someone to keep a closer eye on her.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, “She a party girl or something?” He wasn’t sure he could handle another bratty daddy’s girl again. The last one had nearly made him blow his brains out. They always think flipping their skirts up will let them get away with more and he can’t stand it. 

The man’s face blanched and he shook his head so vigorously that his jowls moved with him. “Oh, no, not at all. But she’s,” he paused and lowered his voice. He leaned in closer to Logan and waited for Logan to do the same. He rolled his eyes but did it anyway. “She’s like you, you know.”

Logan shot him a grin, “You mean a mutant.”

“Lower your voice,” he hissed, face tightening up in anger. “But, yes, a mutant. And I need one to guard her.” Ironic, this man was driving a campaign to make mutants second-class citizens, and his daughter was one. But Logan needed a check, he didn’t give a fuck about the morals of it all. 

“Sounds good to me.”

“Perfect, you can pick her up from school for me.”

You had your earbuds in, head lowered while you made the trek across campus when you noticed him. He was difficult to miss, tall and buff. Very buff, you’re surprised that tank top of his hasn’t ripped every time he flexes. 

Your dad’s newest campaign has you hyper-aware of your surroundings. You can’t afford to let your guard down. Not after the last attack. 

There’s something about this man that tells you he isn’t someone looking to jump you, though. You’re not sure what it is. Every part of him screams danger, but not the type you’re looking out for. The cigar perched between his lips, the glistening muscles you want to bite, he’s trouble. 

When you spot him outside your lecture hall for the third time that day, you finally figure out what’s happening. Your dad had told you he’d hired someone new to watch over you at school. You hadn’t voiced just how against it you were, but you didn’t like the idea. 

You didn’t mind this guy, though. He wasn’t busting into your classes and embarrassing the shit out of you by making everyone empty their pockets like the last guy. He just lingered. You could deal with lingering. 

What you couldn’t deal with was the way he was leaning against his motorcycle, smirking as you slowly approached him. 

“Did my dad hire you?” You call out, tugging your earbuds out. “Who are you?”

He speaks around the cigar like it's second nature. “Your new bodyguard, sweetheart.” You suck in a deep breath when you hear his voice. He’s extremely attractive, you're surprised your dad would risk this. 

One of the other ones had kind of gotten a little obsessed, stalking you even in his off hours. You didn’t think your dad would want another pretty boy around you. Though, you suppose this one isn’t pretty. He’s extremely handsome, ruggedly so, very manly. Jesus, you might end up being the stalker this time. 

His lips curl up like he knows what you’re thinking about. You clear your throat, shifting your backpack higher up your arm. “You planning on taking me home on that?” You ask, pointing at his bike. 

He straightens up and shrugs. “Got a problem with the bike?”

You grin, “Not really,” but your dad will. “No, not at all.”

You walk towards him and he reaches out, grabbing your backpack straps and tugging you towards him. You stumble, hands bracing against his chest so you don’t land flat on your face. “Sorry, kid,” but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He buckles the straps of your backpack together and tightens them, puffing smoke in your face while he does. “Don’t want this flying off.”

“Mhm,” you hum. You’re not paying attention at all. The only thing you care about right now is just how ripped he is under your hands. You’re not sure how long you gawk at him but he seems to be ridiculously amused by it. 

“Ready to go home, or what?” You jump back from him, brushing your hands off on your leggings and clearing your throat. 

“Yes, yeah.” You rip your eyes off his body and instead focus on the bike. “No helmets?” You ask.

“You heal, don’t you?” You nod and he shrugs. “Don’t need them then, do we?”

You can’t help the giddy grin on your face at that. It’s gotten tiring being treated like glass. You’re about to get on the bike when you finally process what he said. “Wait, how do you know I heal?”

He doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, his gaze darts down to his fists. Your eyes widen when you see the metal poking through the skin. Of course, your father would only tell another mutant about his abomination of a daughter. You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s such a fucking hypocrite. 

Logan climbs on the bike and you follow after him. You're hesitant to wrap your arms around his waist but he just reaches behind himself and jerks you forward. 

You suck in a sharp breath, pelvis tight against his ass while he squeezes your hands. “You want to go flying?” You shake your head and he chuckles, starting the bike and driving off without another word. 

Part of you loves the ride home, the other part detests it. For once you get to experience a little freedom. You’re not trapped in a steel box staring at the back of a car seat while the man beside you pretends he doesn’t exist. 

You can feel the wind in your hair, get a taste of real speed, and enjoy a moment uninterrupted by someone’s expectations of you. On the other hand, Logan does not respect speeding laws. And healing abilities or not, you don’t actually want to experience road rash. 

He manages to get you home in one piece, parking the motorcycle in the driveway and waiting for you to get off. But you can’t, your thighs have been clenching the seat so tight you think they might need to scrape you off. 

“Kid?” He mutters. You shake your head against his back, arms still strangling his waist. It was actually kind of fucking terrifying being on one of these things. You can’t tell if you loved or hated it. 

He lets out a rough sigh, forcibly moving your arms and then tugging you off the seat. Your legs are like jello while you try and straighten out. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks. You can’t manage much more than a strangled hum and he laughs. 

You turn to your front door and spot a leering face peering out the window. “Shit,” you huff. Your stepmother sees you spot her and disappears from view. You feel your hopes of ever getting back on that bike go with her. 

“You took her home on your bike!”

“Well-”

You flinch at the volume of your father’s voice. “I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is! I will not have my daughter seen riding that monstrosity! You are not to do this again, do you understand me?”

You don’t know what Logan says, but you’re certain it’s not the submissive Yes, sir your father is looking for. He continues shouting at him for another ten minutes. When you hear the door to his office open you scramble to look like you hadn’t been listening in. 

But you’re a bad actress and if his huff of laughter is anything to go by, Logan knows what you were doing. “Did you know that was going to happen?” He asks, pointing back to your father’s, now closed, study. 

You nod, pursing your lips with an apologetic smile. “If it helps, I was really hoping he wouldn’t do that.”

He shrugs, “I don’t really give a fuck how much he wants to scream at me.” It’s refreshing, to finally have someone in the house who doesn’t kiss your father’s ass. It makes you smile, a real genuine smile for the first time in a while. 

You stand from the chair you’d been sitting in, gesturing further into your home. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten all day so I was thinking about making something.”

The smirk drops from his face, expression suddenly serious. It makes you tense up. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I’m here to get paid. I don’t want to be your friend, kid.”

You suck in a sharp breath, trying not to let the rejection sting. He’s a professional, it should be a relief after the last one. “Right, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”

He nods, “Right,” tone stiff. You stare at him for another awkwardly long moment before you finally turn on your heel and walk toward the kitchen. You rush there, speedwalking so you don’t have to look at him any longer. 

You open up your fridge, keeping your back to him for as long as humanly possible. You can hear him take a seat at the island, can feel the way his eyes bore into you. It’s a physical thing, his gaze, makes chills scrape their way down your spine. 

You make yourself a sandwich and finally force yourself to turn around. Like you’d expected, he’s already looking at you. Lips ticking up just slightly when you finally get the courage to look up at him. 

Logan feels a little guilty. You weren’t coming onto him earlier, you were being genuine with your kindness. He knows there were no ulterior motives to it and there’s a very slight part of him that feels bad for making you so quiet. “Why’s your dad so pissy about the bike?”

You’re a little startled by the question, after the comment he made you’d thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You swallow down the rest of your bite and cough a little when the bread gets stuck on the roof of your mouth. 

“He doesn’t want me to crash.”

“But you heal,” he points out bluntly and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem. He doesn’t want me to crash and for someone to see that I miraculously healed. Having a freak for a daughter wouldn’t exactly help his campaign, would it?” You can’t even attempt to hide the bitterness in your voice. And you know Logan picks up on it because he doesn’t ask any more questions. 

Your gaze drops to your plate and you finish the rest of your meal in silence. Or, you try to. “Got any plans tonight?”

You chuckle and give him an odd look. “No,” you respond sardonically. “None at all, prepare yourself for a very boring job. I don’t even know why he hired you, I never leave the house unless it's for school.”

“Yeah?” he muses, but he doesn’t seem particularly interested. More like he’s talking just to pass the time. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time at school.”

You suck in a sharp breath, a sudden wave of anger roiling through your gut. The cabinets behind you begin to shake and you wince in embarrassment, tamping down on your powers before you accidentally blow up the kitchen. 

Logan watches the moment with subdued interest like he’s not all that surprised or impressed with the display. “Unless they were a PoliSci nerd, I was a nobody up until last year.” There’s no concealing the hate lurking within your words, “And then my dad took up this whole anti-mutant regime. Well, you can imagine how much the activists love me. I’ve just had a few incidents with some particularly passionate protestors.”

“Do you believe in it?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, you hadn’t expected him to actually continue the conversation. “What do you mean?”

He leans back, arms crossed across his chest in a way that makes his biceps bulge. He shrugs, “The anti-mutant regime, do you agree with it?”

You open your mouth, the perfected script almost rolling off your tongue. But this isn’t some politician's son you’re wooing. You’re not the perfect daughter, you’re in your own home, finally talking to someone else like you. 

“No.” You answer, voice strong in its conviction. “And every time I see one of his PAs running around with their little signs I want to ram the stick up their ass.”

He barks out a laugh, eyes crinkling up in amusement. “I think we might get along, kid.”

You try to ignore the way your cheeks warm at his words. You don’t want to be this affected by him, you’ve barely spoken to him. But this is the first person in a long time that you know with absolute certainty you can be honest with. He doesn’t care about protecting your political image or bowing to your father’s every whim. 

It’s a relief, like a constricting weight being taken off your chest. You give him an easy smile and get up to wash your dishes. His eyes are on you again but they feel less oppressive this time. You’ve already forgotten the rule he’s set in place, you’re not supposed to be friends. 

It’s going to be hard to remember that. 

Your father tightens his grip around your waist until you feel like you might squeal. “Smile, now.” You raise your hand, taking the stairs up the stage and waving out at the crowd that’s formed. It’s hot today, your makeup would be melting off if it weren’t for the artists who put it on for you. 

Always have to look good in front of the camera. All of you. Seeing Logan in a suit was certainly a surprise. You’re almost completely sure that your father had to give him a bonus to even consider wearing it today. 

He looks good, but you honestly prefer him in the normal beater and leather jacket. It’s something so uniquely him. This is just a reminder of your reality, that nothing around you is real. It’s all pretty lies wrapped up in expensive clothes. 

You have to bite your tongue and hold back a grimace when your father begins his speech. “First, we had to let them into our jobs. Now they’re in our schools! Our children aren’t safe, not when they’ve got loaded weapons sitting beside them! Because that’s exactly what they are, weapons of mass destruction that will take apart-”

“Fuck me,” you hiss under your breath. Your cheeks hurt from keeping this smile on your face. You’re struggling not to flinch every time the crowd surges up to agree with him, bigoted shouts making your ears bleed. 

Logan’s brows raise and he gives you a brief glance over his shoulder. Your face pinches in confusion only for a moment before you quickly correct it. Still, you keep your lips nearly completely motionless as you whisper, “Can you hear me?”

You dart your gaze back down to him and catch the barest of nods. Your smile softens, becoming something real if only for a moment. You don’t say anything else, you don’t need to. It’s just a comfort to know someone else is there with you, seeing through the painted faces and plastic smiles. 

There’s movement in the crowd. It cuts your father off midsentence. He peers over the podium, trying to get a better look at what’s happening. You hear someone scream and then the entire crowd is getting knocked to the ground. 

You jump back in shock, everyone on stage still. The security, however, is rushing to get to you and your family. It’s too late, though, there’s a mutant in the crowd and his eyes are set on you. “Fuck you,” he screams out your father's name and lugs something at the stage. 

You hear someone shout your name but it’s too late. Glass shatters against the side of your face. It takes less than a second for the pain to start. You can feel holes being burned through your skin, like living fire melting through your bones and gums. A scream rips out of your throat, your hands coming up to block your face too late. 

“Get her out of here!”

As agonizing as it is, you can already feel your skin working to mend itself. You can practically hear the flesh bonding back together. But the acid is dripping down you. It keeps moving steadily through your clothes and skin, your abilities on overdrive trying to repair the damage. 

You can’t focus on anything except the sensation of being burned alive. Suddenly, there’s an arm being thrown around your shoulder and you’re being lifted off your feet. Your skin scrapes against the rough material of someone’s blazer and it makes you grit your teeth and scream again. 

“I know, hold on kid, it’ll be over in a minute.” Logan rushes you behind the stage, where there are no cameras to watch you heal. You don’t know how your father’s PR team is going to spin this. Everyone saw it, saw the way your flesh bubbled and boiled. There’s no hiding the fact that half your face should be melted off. 

“Car,” you grunt out when he puts you on your feet again. 

His hands are clamped firmly around your shoulders, inspecting you for any further damage. “What?”

“We gotta get to the car,” the words are a struggle to get out. Your lungs constrict painfully in your chest while you force the rest out. “Can’t let them see.”

He looks pissed off that that's what you're worried about and not the fact that you were just attacked. Finally, after a minute of just staring at you, he nods. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and runs with you back to the limo. He throws the door open, pushing you inside and sliding in beside you. 

You take in a deep breath the second you’re no longer in view of the TV cameras. “Fuck,” you gasp out. Your dress is in tatters on your left side and you quickly cover your chest. You pray that you didn’t accidentally flash anything while you were still on stage. Your father would never forgive you for that. 

It’s silent in the car for a moment. You feel something being draped over your shoulder and look over to see Logan passing you his jacket. When he catches your gaze he gently grabs your jaw and titls your face towards his. 

His eyes rove over the left side of your face and he gives you a tight smile. “You’re fine, kid.”

You pull your chin out of his grip and pull his jacket closed around you. “See why my father wanted you around? How would he have ever explained his daughter surviving an acid attack?”

There’s something pinched in his gaze. A deep-seated irritation and something else you’re too tired to identify. He’s looking at you oddly and you wish he wouldn’t. You press your forehead to the cool glass of the window and slump against the car door. 

You don’t know when you fall asleep but by the time you wake up, Logan’s already carrying you up to your room. He sees you shift awake and places you on your feet. You steady yourself against the stair banister and walk the rest of the way to your room, trying to shake off the pain of the day. 

You look back just in time to see Logan at the front door. “Goodnight,” you call down to him. You know he can hear you, but he walks through the door without another word. You bite your lip, ignoring the sinking feeling of your gut. 

You toss your destroyed dress to the floor and turn your TV on. You surf through the channels for a bit before finding a clip of today’s incident. “-apparently part of a protest for mutants against the government. I don’t know Bill, they seem to just be proving everybody’s point. They are unsafe.”

“I agree, my thoughts and prayers go out to…”

You roll your eyes as they say your name. They’re saying it wasn’t acid, instead it’s some sort of chemical compound that causes extreme pain. Even you don’t believe that bullshit. You have a feeling your father is going to be looking for a new PR team tomorrow. 

Your attention is snagged by the replay of the accident. You don’t focus on the acid, you don’t want to. Instead, you see how quickly Logan rushed to your side. He seemed to be right there even as the acid was being thrown. 

Your brows pinch together and you glance at the jacket beside you. He’d forgotten to take it back before he left. You pick it up, eyes skating over the fabric before you find what you’re looking for. There’s a large hole in the right sleeve, acid having burned through it. 

You hadn’t even realized he was in pain. You know he can heal, but it doesn’t get rid of the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had someone look after you like that. 

You grin to yourself, tucking the jacket in the back of your closet. You’re sure he wouldn’t want it back and you’re not planning on parting with it anytime soon. 

You’re on house arrest for a week after the acid incident. Which includes no school. Your father has to play into the idea that you’re recovering from the trauma and healing. You don’t know how much longer he’s planning on keeping you locked up but you’re going stir crazy. 

Not only do you not get to go to classes, but Logan isn’t around either. He doesn’t need to be, not when the only place you’re in is your room. He’s not a friend, he’s made that clear, but he’s something. And you are desperately craving that specific something. 

“It was a sickening attack against my daughter that my wife and I are still trying to recover from.” You roll your eyes as you listen to your father spew his bullshit to the interviewer in the next room. 

You’re not allowed to be out and about, of course. You can’t risk someone seeing you. But that doesn’t stop you from lurking. 

“It was an incredibly traumatic experience for her, I’m sure.” You grin to yourself, picking at your nails. You like this one, whoever the reporter is interviewing him. She hasn’t let him catch a break. Especially not when he tries to capitalize on your trauma. Even though he hasn’t checked in once with you. 

“Well,” he splutters for a moment. “Yes, of course,” he tries to sound humble but anyone can tell he’s just covering his ass. “And it just further proves what I’ve always said about mutants. They are animals, they’re not like us.”

You’d think at a certain point you’d go numb to it. You’ve been raised hearing this rhetoric from him all your life. But the sting never eases. That cloying ache in your chest never quite leaves you. Not when you know the only reason he publicly accepts you is for political gains. So everyone can see what a wonderful father he is and vote for him.

You feel sick to your stomach and you don’t think you can listen to much more of this. But right as you’re about to tap out a hand clamps down on your shoulder. You nearly scream but you catch a whiff of the man’s aftershave and your mouth snaps shut. 

You leap out of your chair and whip around, a grin plastered on your face. “Logan, what are you doing here?” You can’t disguise the giddiness in your voice. He might constantly be reminding you that you hold nothing more than a professional relationship, but you don’t give a shit. He’s a constant in your life and that’s rare for you, so you’ll latch onto whatever comfort you can find. 

His gaze briefly darts to the connecting wall to your father’s study and you flush. He’d probably heard all of that. You’ve never had someone see the side of your father that you do. There’s something shamefully embarrassing about it. 

He looks back at you and gives you a sly smirk. “Wanna get out of here?” You’d have to be an idiot to say no.

“Uh,” you can hear the music from where you stand across the street. You shuffle uncertainly on your feet beside Logan, glancing up and down the sidewalk like your father’s going to pop out of an alleyway. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

Logan tugs his cigar out of his mouth. He’s leaned up against a lamppost and he’s watched you struggle for the past ten minutes. “Live a little kid, would ya?”

You look back at the dingy bar and grimace. “Okay, there’s a difference between living a little and having my face blasted on the news. How’s it going to look if I’m photographed at a bar while I’m meant to be healing?”

Logan points with his cigar to the entrance of the bar. “I can promise you, no one in there gives a fuck about who your daddy is.” Comforting, and a little humbling. 

You take in a deep breath and Logan must sense the change in your demeanor. He flicks the cigar to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He holds his arm out, “Ready, kid?”

You nod, hurrying to his side and slipping under his grasp. He lets his arm hang heavily around your shoulder, hand squeezing your bicep gently to try and quell your nerves. You’d be swooning at the touch if you weren’t about to throw up from anxiety. 

You used to have a life. Until your father had blown it up. You haven’t been around this many people in ages. Well, you haven’t been around people who are just having fun and not sucking up to every politician’s kid they meet. 

The music gets louder as you step over through the threshold of the bar. The soles of your shoes stick to the floor. People laugh loudly all around you, some of them shouting up at TV screens for whatever sport is currently playing. You’re sure half of them don’t even normally watch the game. They just need an excuse to get their wives off their backs. 

The thought brings a small smile to your lips. Logan glances down at you and frowns, “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and move out from under his hold. “Yes, Logan. I’m going into a master’s program, my frontal lobe is fully formed.”

He huffs a little at the attitude, cheeks twitching with a suppressed smile. He nods towards the back of the bar, “Find a seat, I’ll get us drinks.” He walks towards the bar without another word and you resent him a little for it. 

Without him beside you, it’s like everything comes crashing down all at once. The songs playing grate on your ears. Every laugh feels like they’re screaming in your face. You’ve never been more in tune with your sense of smell and you hate it. 

Your hands tremble by your sides and you nearly miss the man in front of you spilling his beer down his shirt. It looks completely unnatural, the way it just flips out of his hand. And you know it’s your doing. 

You shove through him and his friends, running to the back and sliding into the first booth you see. You dig your nails into your palms, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate down a bit. 

Logan slides into the seat across from you, placing a beer in front of you. It’s barely touched the grimy wood of the table before you tip your head back and drain it. You’ve never been a particular fan of beer or any alcohol for that matter. 

But right now you need a buzz before you accidentally level the whole bar. You slam the bottle back on the table, taking in a deep breath, and sitting back. Logan gives you a hard stare, glancing between you and the empty bottle. 

He clicks his tongue and stands up, “I’ll go get another one.”

You bite your lip and give him a sheepish, “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take long for the buzz to settle in. There’s a slight tingling in your legs and the tips of your fingers. It almost feels like how you get when you’re starting to get aroused. But you don’t know if that’s from the alcohol or the way Logan looks in his slutty little t-shirt. 

Definitely tipsy, you think to yourself, nudging your third beer to the side. 

“Always been a lightweight?” He teases, watching you with amusement in his gaze while he works on what must be his fifth whiskey. 

You shake your head with a soft smile. “No, I used to go out with my friends all the time.” You laugh a little at the memories and lean in a little closer like you’re sharing some horrible secret. Logan rolls his eyes but acquiesces, leaning in to listen to you speak. “We made up alter egos for our drunk selves. Wanna know mine?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows at him with a stupid grin.

His brows pinch together and he frowns, “I don’t think so.”

You laugh and lean back in your seat. “You’re the worst!” He places his glass down on the table and fixes you with an odd look. You shift around uncomfortably, “What is it?”

“What happened to your friends? Why are you hanging out with me and not them?”

“Oh,” your gaze drops to the table and you suddenly find the stains on it very interesting. It’s practically abstract art. You swallow harshly around the lump in your throat and shrug. “Um, just all the stuff with my dad happened, and,” you shrug, “I don’t know. My life kind of fell apart.”

You try and shake off the funk, bring back the happy-go-lucky feeling you were in only minutes ago. “I had to move out of the dorms and head back home. My friends stopped talking to me. My boyfriend dumped me. It all just kind of blew up.”

Logan frowns and you swear he seems angry on your behalf. It’s a nice feeling, having someone care enough to hold a grudge for you. “You ever tell him how it was all affecting you?”

You snort, “Of course I did. He was overjoyed. He never liked my friends, especially not my boyfriend, they encouraged me to be too independent. He thought I was losing the values he raised me with. He just never cared to learn that I never agreed with them in the first place.”

Logan doesn’t say anything for a while and you let your gaze drift to the karaoke stage. Two women are singing a bad redemption of Led Zeppelin and it makes you smile. You don’t see the way Logan’s eyes linger on the curve of your lips and then drop to your chest. 

You never seem to notice how you make him squirm. There is something so interesting about you. Something so different from the families he worked with before. He doesn’t know if it's the whole mutant thing, if you two are somehow kindred spirits in that regard. He doubts it, he’s never really cared much about that. 

But he knows that there is something magnetic about you. It draws him in and makes him hate his own rules. He promised not to get involved with another client. It always ends messy, most times bloody. 

You turn back to him and smile. Your voice is a low purr as you ask, “You wanna get out of here?”

Of course, he’s never been one to follow the rules. 

“I am so sorry about this. Really.” 

Logan glares down at you while you straighten out his tie. You duck your head so you don’t have to meet his gaze and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. 

“Forget it, kid.” He says it with a smirk but it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty. 

This will be your first public appearance since the incident. It’s a gala, of course, because your father hates you. He’d demanded you find a date, someone to look pretty on your arm because he doesn’t want you talking while you’re there. You’re meant for pictures and nothing more. 

Considering the fact that no one wants to talk to you on campus, the acid incident not helping at all, you had no luck finding a date. You’d had to beg on hands and knees for days to get Logan to agree. 

You don’t know what it is that finally made him cave but you’re grateful for it. You think your father was expecting you to fail. To come crawling to him and be forced to go with who he wanted you to go with. 

You were not going to spend the whole night listening to some political major try and explain your own father’s campaign to you. You’d rather swallow acid than go through that for another night. Your father, of course, doesn’t know that Logan is taking you. 

You’re planning on ambushing him with it. He can’t do anything about it now. He wants you to have a date for some reason and there’s no way for him to find a backup now. You take a step back from him and turn to look in the mirror. 

Side by side, you do make an incredibly attractive couple. He looks amazing in his suit, his muscles just slightly pushing against the fabric. And as much as he hates the tie and constricting material, he makes it work. 

And you feel pretty for the first time in a long time. You actually got to do your own hair and makeup for once. You’re a lot less heavy-handed than the assistants your father hires. You feel comfortable in your own skin, finally, wearing the deep red dress your stepmother had gotten for you. 

“We look good,” you muse. 

Logan looks down at you and smiles slightly, “You do.”

You give him a confused grin, “I said we.”

He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I know what you said, sweetheart.” Your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the proximity. Gooseflesh raises on your arms where he’s touching you and your knee buckles ever so slightly. 

You can perfectly imagine his husky voice whispering something much, much dirtier to you. He pulls back with a slight chuckle and forcefully turns you around. “Come on, kid, we’re gonna be late.”

He nudges you towards your bedroom door and you nod your head mutely. He keeps doing that to you. These little things that could be so easily dismissed as you reading into his actions. But you know, deep down, you’re not reading into anything. 

But you don’t know what to do with this information that he might possibly be into you. Or at the very least, attracted to you. He made it clear early on that he wants nothing but professionalism between the two of you, yet he continually breaks his own rule. 

Your father and stepmother are waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you both. Your stepmother smiles when she sees you but your father’s face screws up in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me? The goddamn bodyguard?”

You shrug and slip past him, already walking to the front door. “A date’s a date.” You pause and grin over at him, “What are you going to do about it?” It’s a taunt, one you don’t give him a chance to respond to. 

You’re already slipping outside and heading to the town car. Something about Logan being with you emboldens you to act in ways you never would. Even when he’s not there, when you’re just having family dinner and your father says something off-putting. You fight back, you don’t let him steamroll you and your opinions. 

You feel better than you have in ages with Logan beside you. Still, the ride there is incredibly awkward. 

The hotel is grand and luxurious. But they all are. You feel guilty complaining about your life when this is your weekend. What do you have to be upset about when you regularly stay in five-star motels and wear designer dresses without glancing at the price tag?

Sometimes you feel guilty around Logan. You wonder if he ever resents you for your privilege. You might be a mutant like him, sure, but you’ve never had to struggle to make ends meet. Or try and scrap together enough money to get your next meal. You’ve never had to worry about where you’re going to sleep next or if you’ll have a roof over your head. 

Your struggles have been so different that you worry if something ever did happen between the two of you, you might not work together. 

But those are spiraling thoughts for another time. Right now, you’re just trying to get through the front door without someone bombarding your father with questions on his stance about whatever. 

When it’s clear that he’s going to be there for a while, he sends you and Logan off to the ballroom on your own. You feel bad for your stepmother, having to stay behind and pretend she’s interested as they bore her with stories that have no real meaning. 

“Poor woman,” you mutter, watching her struggle to keep the smile on her face. 

“You don’t call her mom,” Logan muses. You turn to look at him and he just shrugs. “Just a little weird.”

“Well, she’s not my mom.” His head tilts in confusion and you elaborate. “My bio mom left the second she figured out she gave birth to a mutant. We lie to the public, stepmom’s interfere with the perfect nuclear family ideal my dad’s pushing for.”

“If he cares so much about family then why don’t you have your dad’s last name?” A good question, one you had to field a lot when you first started school. 

You give him a sly grin, “Took my mom's maiden name the second I was eighteen, just to piss him off.” There’s no true reason behind it other than being vindictive and petty. “He’s been trying to get me to change it for years but he can’t force me to. Besides, I like having my name separate from theirs. Lets me pretend I’m not a part of the family. Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all, we just never really had the chance to bond.”

Someone passes by you. A couple you know you’re supposed to recognize but you can’t place their names. The man calls out your name, coming toward you with his arms open wide. You can see Logan tense up slightly beside you, bodyguard instincts coming out for a moment. 

You squeeze his hand briefly before stepping forward to hug the man. “So nice to see you, again.” You tell him. He grins and squeezes you a little closer to his chest than necessary. 

Logan clears his throat, glaring at the man’s drifting hands. Before either of you can react, Logan is pulling you back, hand resting lightly over the small of your back. He holds his hand out, forcing the man to shake his hand and take his attention off of you.

You can’t hold back the smile on your lips when you see how much smaller the man is under Logan’s intense stare. You’ve gotten used to the men at these events treating you however they want. They don’t see you as a human, you are your father’s accessory and their toy. You envy Logan for how easily he can dismiss these men, take away their larger-than-life personalities, and reduce them to the sniveling rats they truly are. 

He doesn’t even speak, simply tugs you towards the ballroom and away from the man’s wandering hands. You can’t help the stupid smile on your face while you look at him. He glances out the side of his eye and huffs, “What?” He snaps, tone impatient. 

You shrug and shake your head. “Nothing, you’re just…” You trail off, unsure how to continue. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him how you really feel about him. How deeply you appreciate him, how horribly you desire him. You’re afraid it will all just blow up in your face. That you’ll have truly been reading into everything and gotten his intentions all wrong. After all, he’s made it abundantly clear that there’s meant to be nothing between the two of you except a paycheck. 

You take in a deep breath, smile faltering, “Nothing.” You finally spit out, slipping out of his grasp and walking quicker towards the doors. His hand lingers on your back, fingers trailing slowly down your spine until you’re completely out of his reach. 

The chatter inside gets louder the closer you get to the entrance. You listen to the indiscernible voices, the quartet playing in the corner, and the clink of metal on the glass as they all eat. You straighten out your shoulders and put on your best smile, mentally preparing yourself to keep it stiff on your cheeks for the rest of the night. 

Logan catches up to you, the both of you stopping the second you see the inside of the ballroom. 

People Against Mutants

Evolution or Monstrosities

Parents for the Removal of Mutant Children

Your eyes widen as you take in the banners and signs hanging off the walls. More and more uncreative rhetoric all for the annihilation of mutants. Of people like you and Logan. Your smile drops immediately and you know you should have expected something like this from your father. He’d been refusing to tell you what this gala was for, saying offhandly he was just raising some money. 

You thought it was another charity. Not this. Not people, quite literally, calling for your head. For Logan’s head. You suck in a sharp breath and glance towards the silent man beside you. His jaw is clenched as he takes in all the finely dressed people around you. They’re all laughing and chatting like they’re not actively campaigning for the destruction of children. 

“Bar?” You ask, already walking towards it. 

“Sounds good to me.” His hand is on your back again and you’re grateful for it. The glower on his face, the attitude that screams I don’t belong here keeps people away from you. He shoulders through the men huddling around the bar, forcefully clearing space for the two of you. 

And when they turn around, posturing like they’re going to say something, he only has to look at them for them to retreat with their tails tucked. It’s ridiculously attractive seeing someone command these men so easily. 

“Whiskey,” Logan grumbles, he looks back at you and you slide beside him, leaning your elbows against the cool counter. 

“Just champagne, please,” you tell the bartender. He nods, quickly making your drinks and handing them to you. You turn with the flute in your hand, surveying the room. It feels less like a gala and more like a production of false niceties that will never end and never be genuine. 

“Don’t know how you deal with these fuckers all the time,” Logan mutters, glaring as a man slams into him and keeps walking without apologizing. 

You let out a short huff of laughter, “Honestly,” he glances over at you and you shrug. “I’ve got no fucking clue either.” He scoffs and takes a swig from his glass. But you can’t take your eyes off of him. You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, weighing you down until you feel like you have no choice but to spit them out. 

“You,” his brows quirk up and he glances over at you. You take in a deep breath and start over, nerves making your palms sweaty around the glass. “You make it bearable.”

Logan’s face falls and he sucks in a deep breath. You see the expression on his face, you know what he’s going to tell you. And you hate how apologetic he looks. You especially despise the way he’s making you feel pitied. He’s never done that before and you don’t want him to start now. 

“Don’t,” you tell him before he can say anything. You let out a self-deprecating laugh and place the champagne flute on the bar so you don’t have to look at him. “I know what you’re going to say, alright. So, just, don’t.”

Logan purses his lips and grabs your jaw. You try and jerk your face out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you, he forces you to look at him. He only lets go once you reluctantly make eye contact. You’re surprised by the look on his face. There’s no pity in his gaze like you’d expected. 

This is something else, something darker and more twisted. You can’t put your finger on what exactly you’re seeing but you know it makes your heart race and your thighs clench. “Listen, sweetheart, I-”

“What the hell are you doing?” You jump away from him but Logan just clenches his eyes shut with a short huff of irritated breath. You clear your throat and turn to face your father. He’s glaring between you and Logan, but smiles warmly anytime someone looks your way. “I didn’t bring you here so my contributors could see what a fucking whore you are for the help.”

“Dad!” You exclaim, eyes widening in horror. But Logan doesn’t seem bothered by your father’s words. If anything it seems to incense him, his hand drifting from your jaw to drape itself over the nape of your neck. You try not to show just how much the possessive grip is affecting you but you know they can both tell. 

Your father’s face pinches and he nearly stomps his foot as he looks between you and Logan. He looks like he wants to say something else but your stepmother, thankfully, calls his name. She waves him over towards her and you hold your breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do. 

He takes in short puffs of air, straightening out his suit jacket and glaring at you. “You’re not going to be a fucking wallflower all night, got it?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s stomping off. He calls out a warm greeting to someone across the room and you feel like you can finally breathe again. 

You give Logan a tired smile and nod towards the rest of the party. “Time to mingle.”

He laughs, loudly, enough to make people’s heads turn. You can feel your skin heating up from embarrassment and flinch away from the sound. “Sorry, kid, mingling ain’t part of my contract.”

Your jaw drops as you glare at him. “Are you serious?”

He turns back to the bar, flagging down the bartender for a refill. “Deadly,” he tells you firmly, barely looking at you. You roll your eyes and walk away from him, glaring at his back the whole time you do so. 

He thought coming to one of these things, being stuffed in a scratchy suit, would be his worst nightmare. He was proven wrong when he heard them talking to each other. Bitching about golf and their mistresses wanting more attention. Their kids nagging them and their wives being bitches. 

All of it made him want to down a whole bottle of whiskey and then blow his brains out. His worst nightmare turned into ever having to hold a conversation with one of these pricks. 

Then, he turns around, surveying the room for wherever you were lurking. He expects you to be by your father’s side or hiding somewhere in a corner. Instead, you’re standing close -extremely close - to some pretty boy. 

His hand is on your waist and you’re laughing at whatever boring fucking story he’s telling you. Logan tries to pick up on your conversation but there are too many things happening at once already. His senses are on overdrive and he’s already struggling against a migraine. 

He feels something brewing in his gut, something he’s been trying to just shove down for months. He doesn’t know what it is he hates about this picture but it makes him sick to his stomach. He hears something crack and looks down to find the glass of whiskey split on one side. 

“Shit,” he hisses, slamming the glass on the bar behind him. He shakes his hand out and tries to unclench his fists but it’s hard. He couldn’t have possibly been standing here long enough for you to suddenly find the love of your life. Why the fuck are the two of you so close?

This was so unlike you. Rarely did you ever have something good to say about the men you would encounter at these things. He’d heard you bitch about it enough times. Something about this isn’t adding up and he doesn’t know if it’s his own jealousy or intuition. 

Still, he finds himself pushing away from the bar and stalking towards you both. Closer, he can finally see what the problem is. Your hands are on the guy's chest but you aren’t leaning against him, you’re actively trying to push him away. 

It makes Logan’s blood boil, jaw clenching as he tries to keep himself at bay. He didn’t want to cave some kid’s head in in the middle of the gala. But the closer he got the clearer he could hear your hissed warnings to take his hands off of you. 

Logan finally reaches you and the look of sheer relief on your face makes him want to bring the claws out. He’d love to see that smug smirk ripped off his face, but he holds back. If only so he doesn’t traumatize you. 

“Alright, bub, hands off,” he warns. 

“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” He had to give it to the kid, he’s got balls. Rarely did anyone ever buck up to him like this. Normally, he might entertain him a bit, drag this on longer than necessary to get a kick out of it. 

But he still hasn’t taken his hands off of you and Logan’s not interested in fucking around tonight. Without a word, he grabs the kid by the collar of his jacket and tosses him away from you. 

He lands roughly on the floor with a loud gasp and people turn to look. Logan pays no mind to the onlookers. He places his hand on your back and leads you out of the ballroom, unwilling to have eyes on you for the rest of this conversation. 

“Logan,” you start, tone nervous. 

“Don’t,” he snaps. He regrets it immediately from the way you jump in surprise. He lets out a rough sigh, running his hand down his face, and walks through the first door he finds. “I’m sorry, kid, I just-”

“Logan,” you cut him off. The tone of your voice is enough to get him to finally look at you. Your arms are crossed and you’re glaring at him. “Why the fuck did you drag us into a closet?”

His brows furrow in confusion and he glances around, finally realizing what he walked into, “Fuck,” he hisses. He gropes blindly around the room for a light switch. There’s a small click and then an unflattering fluorescent light is shining down on you both. He’s managed to drag you both into a small, incredibly cramped, cleaning closet.  

You’re grimacing as you push a few mops away from your head. You look over at him and something about the look on his face must be funny because you start to laugh. “What were you thinking?”

Your smile makes one curl up on his own lips. He can’t help it, something about you eases a bit of the tightness constantly lurking inside him. “Thought it was one of those stuffy conference rooms.”

You scoff and reach for the handle, “Just a stuffy closest, good going, Logan.” You roll your eyes and tug on the knob. Your brows furrow together as you jiggle the handle every which way, desperately pulling on it. 

“Move over,” Logan mutters, nudging you to the side. He wraps his hand around the handle and yanks on it, expecting the door to swing open. When it doesn’t his face falls. 

“Did you miraculously unlock it, genius?” You demand sarcastically. Logan feels his shoulders tense up, frustration levels steadily rising. He’s already got a shit temper, he doesn’t need you adding to this. 

“No,” he snipes, “but I don’t see you coming up with any wonderful solutions.”

You throw your hands up in the air, wincing when your elbow collides with the shelving unit behind you. “I didn’t drag us into this mess! Why did you even come in here?” You demand and he can see how angry you are. 

It shows in the way you tapped your heeled feet against the floor and glower at him like he’s the bane of your existence. He doesn’t know what happens, what comes over him, or why this is the moment he chooses to break his rule. 

Your back slams into the shelves behind you and you gasp as he surges towards you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks and before you get a chance to question him, his mouth is covering your own. Logan buries his hand in your hair, ruining the perfectly styled curls. You don’t seem to mind much if the way you arch into him is anything to go by. 

His tongue runs across the seam of your lips, tasting the cherry-flavored gloss you’d applied earlier. He wants to devour you. Consume you body and soul, take everything you have to give, and then keep going. He doesn’t want to stop, but he’s not sure he wants the first place you have sex to be in a janitor’s closet. 

He pulls back, tugging you back when you try to chase his lips with your own. “Shouldn’t do this here,” he mutters. He’s struggling to hold back. And when you look up at him, lips swollen from his kiss, and you mutter why, how is he meant to resist?

He tugs you away from the shelves, pushing you against the door so he doesn’t have to see your face twist up in pain every time the corner digs into your lower back. Your hands drop down to his belt, lips desperately carving a path down his neck. 

He’d laugh at your eagerness if he wasn’t just as desperate for you. He reaches for the hem of your dress but it’s one of those floor-length gowns with no slits. He struggled for a minute before getting too impatient and just muttering, “Fuck it.”

You gasp when you feel the metal of his claw against your leg, eyes dropping down to watch as he makes himself a slit. He slices the fabric along your thigh and then just rips it. “Logan,” you hiss as he hikes the silk over your hips. 

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” You glare at him, eyes darting between him and his pants before you finally shake your head. He laughs slightly, hand drifting under your dress and reveling in the way you shiver under his touch. “Yeah,” he whispers, “that’s what I thought.”

His fingers move gently along your thighs, easing you into his touch. You let out breathy whimpers, tucking your face in his neck the closer he gets to your core. He lets his hand drift lower, searching out the band of your underwear. 

He’s pleasantly surprised when he’s met with nothing but you dripping for him. “Shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?”

You freeze and keep your face stubbornly buried in his neck. Logan laughs slightly, tugging you back and forcing you to look up at him. You mumble something under your breath. It’s said so quickly he can barely understand you. “What was that?”

“Ugh, god, Logan.” You groan and let your eyes drop down to his shirt, fiddling with the end of his tie. “I was hoping this would happen.”

When he doesn’t say anything your face shifts, worry gnawing away at you. You glance up at him and are surprised by the intensity of his gaze. He’s staring down at you like he wants to eat you whole. His pupils have consumed all the color of his eyes, there’s nothing but want on his face. 

“You wanna know why I agreed to come with you, kid?”

Your mind is completely dulled just by being this close to him. It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying before you nod your head. “Why?”

The look on his face reminds you of a wolf guarding its territory. It’s predatorial, animalistic, it makes you want him even more. “I didn’t want any of these little boys getting a chance to have their hands on you.” His gaze drops down to your lips and he leans in until your breaths are mingling together. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He dips his head down and his kiss isn’t as intense as it was the first time. His lips move lazily over your own, tongue stroking against yours like he’s savoring the taste. 

You can taste the whiskey he’d drank earlier, can still smell cigars on his breath. It should be revolting, you’ve never liked kissing smokers. But there is something so intoxicating about him. Everything he does is enchanting to you. 

It’s a naive train of thought but you trust him wholly. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him willingly. His hands continue their exploration down your body and you can’t help but arch into his touch. His fingers stroke languidly over your center and you moan into his mouth. 

Your lips part with little gasps and your head thunks loudly against the door. Neither of you notice or care, you’ve all but forgotten the gala outside. The government employees and rich socialites that you’re supposed to be entertaining. 

And when he slips a finger inside you, you don’t care who hears you call out his name. The rough pad of his finger creates a feeling you’ve never been able to produce on your own. There’s something so exhilarating about this whole situation. 

Stuck in this tiny closet, no air to breathe but each other’s. No room for anything other than your bodies pressed as closely together as possible. You're completely surrounded by him and you never want to leave. 

“Logan,” you gasp out his name and shove at his shoulders. He momentarily stops his ministrations, giving you a worried look. “Please, I just want you.” You tug at his wrist, hissing when his fingers leave you with a lewd pop. 

He looks hesitant, but you can see the way he’s straining against his boxers. You let your hand trail down his stomach, palming him through the thin fabric. His hips buck into your hands and he lets out the most attractive noise you’ve ever heard. You’ve always liked guys who aren’t afraid to be vocal. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers. He swats your hands to the sides, tugging his boxers down and squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise. “Come on, up.”

You jump and he slings your legs around his waist, lining himself up with your entrance. He drags you slowly down his cock, resting your back against the door and giving a hesitant thrust inside you. 

You can’t help the low groan that leaves your parted lips. It’s like you’re full of nothing but him. You’d been mentally prepared for the stretch he would present, but you probably should have given him more time to warn you up. 

You don’t care though, this is all you’ve been craving for months. To feel nothing, taste nothing but him. You’ve been praying that he feels the same way you do, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he does. 

He looks completely wrecked, head resting on your shoulder while you both take a breath. It’s overwhelming, this feeling of finally having what you’ve always wanted. Someone you can give yourself to completely and still feel safe with them. 

You drag your hand up his back, burying it in his hair and reveling in how soft it is. You tug him back by the roots, tilting his neck until he’s forced to look at you. Your gaze drops to his reddened lips and you smile at the gloss you’ve smeared across his chin. 

“Come on, Logan, don’t tell me you’re all talk.”

His eyes narrow but you can see the amusement swimming within them. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Oh, yeah?” You goad, grinding your hips down against his and biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You’re trying not to make a noise, trying to make sure he doesn’t see just how much he’s affecting you. But you can already feel your orgasm forming, it’s a low tingle in the tips of your toes, a burning hot desire rushing through your thighs as you clench around him. 

“Yeah,” he promises, thrusting sharply into you. This time the moan is forced out of you, your lips parting unbidden as you slump over him, burying your face in his neck. He doesn’t waste any time, using your hips as handles to pump you over his cock like you’re nothing more than a toy. 

The door rattles behind you, each thrust of his hips makes it shake in its frame. His hands fist the back of your dress, grip so tight you think it might tear. You don’t care. He could rip it off of you and you’d walk outside naked right now. 

You don’t care what happens, not when he’s beside you. There’s a feeling of security that comes from being around Logan and you can feel it in this moment. You trust him to take care of you in every way. 

Maybe you shouldn’t. After all, you two haven’t known each other long. But there’s not much you’re worried about when he’s moving steadily inside you. You can taste the desperation you share for each other in each pump of his hips. 

He whispers it into your ear while you claw at his back. The shelves around you shake and you worry you might bring them down if you can’t rope yourself in. But you can feel the wave building in the back of your throat, your vision blurring as you tighten your legs around his waist and begin to match his rhythm. 

“There you go,” he mutters, pinning you to the door and keeping your hips still while he moves inside you. “Come on, I can feel you clenching around me, sweetheart.” He manages to hold you up with one hand, the other diving between your legs to rub tight circles around your bundle of nerves. 

It doesn’t take much longer for your muscles to seize up, back bowing as you clench desperately around him. “Oh, fuck, Logan,” you shout his name, and his hand quickly comes up to smother your cries. He squeezes your cheeks until your eyes snap open and he drags you down to meet his gaze. 

“Don’t want to lose my job, need you to be quiet for me,” he grunts out, his tone breathy and strained. He loses his rhythm, movements speeding up erratically while he lets out low groans and whispers of your name. You almost cum again when he finally finishes inside you. 

Your limbs are twitching in overstimulation by the time his hips still. You feel completely boneless, body slumped lazily in his arms. He wraps both arms around you, squeezing you a little before slowly lifting you off of him. 

It’s a relief of pressure when he pulls out. His cum leaks out of you, dribbling down your thighs and dripping onto the floor of the closest. Your face screws up at the feeling and you internally cringe. No condom was probably a stupid call.

But you don’t really want to think about the repercussions right now. Not when he’s stroking your hair and rubbing a soothing hand down your back, waiting until you can form a coherent sentence before he lets you go. “Alright?” He asks, voice bordering on something smug. 

“Mhm,” you push away from him, legs shaky as you try and straighten out your dress. It’s a loss cause, trying to hide what happened in here at all. You’ve got a tear going up to your hip and you’re pretty sure there are holes in the back. Logan’s tie is gone and you don’t even remember taking that off. His shirt is completely wrinkled and your lip gloss has stained his face. 

You’ve both got horrific sex hair and the room reeks of it. You don’t know how you're going to sneak out of here. You still try and relax your hair, patting down the flyaways while Logan retucks his shirt. 

It’s silent between the two of you, heavy but not awkward. You don’t think either of you knows what to say now that you’ve physically acted on what you want. A sudden thought hits you, makes your heart clench painfully and your tongue ties up in your mouth. 

He’d confirmed that he wanted your body. That he desired you sexually. But you don’t think he actually said anything about a real relationship. There would be problems, of course, your father for one would have a lot to say about it. But you don’t care about that. You don’t care about any of the consequences, you just want to be with him. 

You open your mouth to ask him what he wants when the door swings open. Both you and Logan whip towards it. But where you look like a deer caught in the headlights he looks like the epitome of male pride. 

Especially when he realizes it's your father on the other side. “Dad-” You start, but you have no idea what you could even say. Your dress is in tatters and both you and Logan are still mussed up. There’s no hiding what happened here. 

He doesn’t let you finish, holding up his hand. His voice is eerily calm as he says, “I thought I heard something banging around in here.”

“You did,” Logan scoffs, crossing his arms and glaring at your father. You feel your heart jump to your throat, staring over at him with a horrified look on your face. How could he think that was okay to say? It was so dismissive of what you believed had happened. 

This was more than just a quickie in the dark to you. This meant something, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that it was the same for him as it was for you. And that just makes you feel like the stupid little girl everyone seems to believe you are. 

Your father says your name but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye. “You’re feeling sick,” he tells you, no room for argument. “Your date had to take you home. It was just too much too soon after the incident at the rally.” When you don’t say anything he shouts out, “Understood?” That makes you jump. 

“Yes,” you clear your throat and face him. “Yes, understood.”

Your father has made his stance on mutants clear. He hates them, despises them to their very being, and wishes he could kill every last one. And as much as you were raised with those ideas, they were never truly turned on you.

But he’s looking at you right now like he wishes you were never born. You feel like shit on his shoe. Something to be hidden away and buried. It makes your shoulders slump like a hundred pounds was just tossed onto your back. 

You try to run past him but he jerks you back, fingers so tight around your bicep you feel the skin tear. You gasp in pain but don’t say anything, too afraid to argue. “Put his jacket on, I won’t have you looking like a whore.” He releases you with a rough shove and storms off. 

You can feel something burning at the back of your eyes. A moment later Logan drops his jacket over your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest and running his hands over your arms. “Come on, kid,” he mutters. There’s something resigned in his voice that makes your heart drop, “Let’s get you home.”

The walk through the lobby feels like you’re walking through a dream. You’re not completely present for it, or the ride home. Your mind and your heart are warring and you feel like you’re going to be torn apart if you keep lingering on what just happened. 

You just can’t understand how you could go from having everything you wanted to feeling like the scum of the earth in less than two minutes. Logan doesn’t speak as he drives you home. His knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel and you’re afraid to even try and start a conversation. 

You don’t want to hear him tell you that he didn’t desire you past your body. You don’t want to discover that you’re just another notch on his belt. He seems to do this a lot, sleep with the girls he guards. The idea of just being another job, another fun night, makes you absolutely disgusted with yourself. 

When he pulls into the driveway of your house you both just sit in the car. Neither of you knows what to say. And the air between you is so thick with tension you feel like you could choke on it. You stare down at your hands, fingers fiddling with the ripped seams of your dress. 

You pick at the threads and feel his stare on you. You can’t do this. You can’t deal with the possibility of rejection. Not after what happened between you and certainly not after what your father said. 

You undo your seat belt and Logan watches as you go through the movements of getting up. His eyes never leave you and it’s like a physical caress, his stare. Normally it would make you warm inside, comforted by his presence. But right now all you can feel is the chill of where his cum has dried between your legs and the icy-hot stab of nausea in your gut. 

You throw the door open and you’re nearly out when he calls out a quiet, “Goodnight.”

You don’t look at him, you can’t. You slam the door shut and walk silently to the front door of your house. You don’t look back, don’t respond, you just slip inside your house and finally let the weight of the night come crashing down on you. 

You don’t cry until you hear him pull out of the driveway. 

Your father and stepmother usually stay at the hotel the night of a gala. Most nights you come home and enjoy the house to yourself for once. Tonight, you’re woken up by the front door slamming so hard your walls shake. 

You can faintly hear your stepmother’s voice trying to console your father. She’s muttering something to him you can’t make out. You shoot out of bed, running to pull some sweatpants on. After you’d cried yourself out you’d taken a shower. 

You’ve scrubbed your skin raw but you swear you can still smell him on you. You rush to your bedroom door, turning the knob quietly and slowly peeking your head outside. Your father’s at the bottom of the stairs, the second he spots your open door he’s screaming your name. 

Your stomach twists painfully and you can feel panic starting to overwhelm you. Your hands shake and your legs are stiff as you slowly step into the hallway. You’re a grown woman. You shouldn’t feel like this because your dad is going to yell at you. 

But he’s been so good at forcing you to rely on him. At forcing you to bend and break to fit his beliefs and mold. You don’t know what to do if you’re not striving for his approval. And right now it’s very clear that he’s never been more disgusted by you. 

If the look on his face isn’t enough to twist the knife deeper, his words are. “I have never,” he screams at you. You take a step back, keeping the stairs between you, refusing to meet him in the middle. “Been more embarrassed to call you my daughter. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me? Do you know how many people saw you being dragged outside like a fucking whore off the corner?”

You clench your eyes shut, turning your face away from him as the shame becomes a physical thing inside you. You can feel it making its way up your throat. Because he’s right. Tonight you were nothing more than a slut without any self-respect. 

But you’re also pissed off. You’re fucking enraged at yourself for being so stupid as to ever believe Logan wanted you for anything more than your body. You're mad at Logan for knowing how you feel about him and taking advantage of it. And you’re so fucking tired of doing everything you can to make your father proud and it never being enough. 

“Have you ever once asked me what I want?” You raise your voice, screaming down at him with a ferocity that surprises even you. His eyes widen, frame trembling with unreleased rage. You plow through, not stopping because you know if you do, you’ll never get this out. “No, you haven’t. Not once. Because you don’t fucking love me! And it has taken me years to accept that, to finally realize that you’re incapable of loving anyone but yourself.”

You gasp, the noise wet and painful as something warm trickles down your cheek. You stare down at him with your eyes wide in realization. “It’s so clear to me now, I feel like an idiot for missing it for so long. You never loved me. You’re incapable of it!” 

You’re embarrassed at the way your voice cracks. As much as you want to pretend you’re stronger than him, not afraid of him. There’s still a little girl inside you who wonders why Daddy doesn’t love you. 

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you want, Dad. I don’t care what you want my life to look like or if I embarrassed you. I’m glad I did, glad someone finally saw a sliver of the truth you try so desperately to hide-”

“Enough!” He shouts and it startles you so bad that you jump back, your abilities reacting and a vase behind you flying off the shelf. You duck as glass shatters across the stairs and floor. You glance at the scene with shocked eyes, looking down at your father to see that he’s not even a little bit surprised. 

Instead, he just looks so deeply disappointed that it makes you shrink into yourself. The anger within you is extinguished in a second. He rubs his face, shaking his head and turning his back on you. “Dad?” You call out, voice trembling. 

“Go to your room,” he tells you quietly. “I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You hover by the top of the stairs for a moment, not quite believing him yet. And when he realizes you're still there, that you’re not taking him seriously, he finally looks at you again. 

“I wish every goddamn day that those doctors had just put you down. I’d rather have a dead daughter than one like you.”

You stand there, stunned, even after the rest of the house has gone to bed. You clean up the pieces of glass while you try and swallow down your tears. Let the sharp edges dig into your skin and tear until you can feel any type of pain besides the one inside you. 

A week of solitary confinement. You’re surprised that you haven’t just been kicked out of college. You’re sure that your father’s many donations to the university are the only thing stopping your professors from dropping you from the class. 

You don’t care if they do or not, though. You never actually care about what you studied. You’d just always hoped that it would be a way for you to escape the tight grip around your neck your dad has on you. 

You’ve figured out that no matter how hard you fight, you’ll never escape him. He hates you and yet, he can’t let you go. You’d laugh if you weren’t busy wallowing in your depression. 

Someone keeps leaving food by your door but you can’t find it in yourself to be hungry. You’ll nibble on something, but you feel like you’re going to throw up when you so much as breathe the wrong way. 

You haven’t heard from Logan since that night. You knew your father would fire him the second he woke up. But you’d held out hope - foolishly - that he might still try and reach out to you. You have this childish image in your head of the prince coming to rescue the princess from the dragon. 

But you’ve been naive your whole life, you don’t want to keep going down this road. You don’t want to keep expecting the best of people and live your life in perpetual disappointment. 

You haven’t seen or spoken to your father since that night. Wordlessly, he’d banned you to your room. No one’s said it, but you know you’re not allowed to come out. You don’t know when he’s going to deem you useful again and drag you back out into the public eye. 

Contrary to his belief, no one had seen you leave that night with Logan. You hadn’t been in any tabloids or shitty news articles. Besides emotional estrangement from your father and losing the only guy you’ve ever really liked, there were no consequences to your whorish behavior - as your father so lovingly puts it. 

You roll over in your bed and picture yourself taking a shower. It feels like such a workout but you can’t stand lying in your sweat and tears for much longer. With a long drawn-out groan, you throw yourself out of bed and enter the bathroom connected to your room. 

You know you’ll feel better afterward, but everything besides sleep sounds like too much work. Still, you force yourself inside and finally clean the grime of laying on your ass for a week off. 

You walk naked through your room, making a beeline for your dresser. You feel a little better after washing yourself off and moisturizing. But not much. Physical health can only do so much for how you feel inside. 

You hope this will blow over soon, you’re not sure how much longer you can take feeling so awful. You hate pitying yourself, and that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You huff irritatedly, digging around your drawers for your favorite shirt. 

A hand clamps around your mouth, rough and big, yanking you back into a muscled chest and keeping you quiet. You still try and scream, hands clawing at the skin of their hand until you feel blood. 

“Fuck, quit that, would ya?”

Your erratic movements slowly come to a halt. You still feel your heart pounding against your chest, adrenaline warming your blood and making you feel like you're on fire from the inside out. But, you recognize the voice, recognize there’s no danger to the situation. 

That doesn’t make you any less pissed off. When Logan is sure you won’t keep attacking him, he lets you go slowly. You immediately whirl around on him, uncaring that you’re still naked. Energy moves quickly through you, becoming a physical thing under your skin. 

He smiles at you and you push the energy out, throwing him across your room. He flies into your bookshelf, crashing to the ground with a loud slam. “What the fuck are you doing?” You scream at him. 

There’s no one home right now, luckily, or else you both would be screwed. He shakes his head off, brushing pieces of wood out of his hair and slowly getting to his feet. “Well, I was coming to say hi-”

“You say hi by ambushing naked girls?” You interrupt, grabbing the clothes closest to you and pulling them on quickly. 

Logan rolls his neck out and shrugs. “No, that was just a plus,” he gives you that insufferable smirk and you want to scream. 

This is the first time you see him in a week since you had sex together and your father officially disowned you. And this is what he’s leading with? Seriously? “You’re a real fucking prince, Logan.” You shake your head with a scoff and glare at him.

He narrows his eyes, looking to be in disbelief at your attitude. “What happened?” You expect to hear irritation in his tone. Anger that you’re being such a bitch right now. Instead, he sounds concerned, like he can see right through you. 

You hate that. You used to love having someone who could see past all the pretenses and walls, but it just hurts now. “Nothing,” you tell him, unable to hold eye contact any longer. “Look,” you take in a deep breath, and your brows furrow in confusion. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

Logan doesn’t look like he wants to drop the topic just yet but he relents. He nods towards your window and you fix him with an astonished look. “I climbed, I didn’t want your dad to risk seeing me on the security cameras out front.”

You feel suspicion brewing inside you, tone turning defensive. “Look, if you came here because you want to fuck again, I suggest you go find another girl. I’m not interested anymore.”

“Well,” he scoffs, “I find that hard to believe.” How easily he just dismisses your words. Like they hold no real importance. It makes you want to scream. Instead, you just flick your wrist, throwing him into another wall. You don’t know how you’re going to explain these holes in the wall to your father but you don’t really care. 

“Enough,” he snaps, brushing himself off and glaring at you. Your lips curl up in amusement, the first thing you’ve felt besides anger and depression for the last week. “Look, I was coming here to get you the hell out, kid. Clearly, I’m not wanted.”

He walks towards your window, intent on climbing back down the side of your house and leaving. You almost let him, if only to see him scurrying down the wall. Instead, you take a step forward and stop him with a small, “Get me out?”

He sighs, running an aggrieved hand over his face and propping the other on his hip. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Look, I can’t stand the thought of you cooped up in here, isolated from the rest of the world. It’s not fair, I was gonna see if you…” He trails off and roughly swallows. 

Your interest piques. Whatever is this hard for him to get out has to be interesting. “Logan,” you call his name softly. “See if I what?”

He huffs out a rough breath, turning around and staring you down. There’s something in his eyes, something reflected in yours. He’s looking at you the same way you always look at him. “You wanna come with me, kid?”

Well, you’d have to be an idiot to say no. 

You don’t leave a note. You don’t give them any clues or hints as to where you might have gone. They can draw their own conclusions about what happened to you. They can tell the news whatever twisted lies they want. 

You don’t care, that’s not your life anymore. Your life is packed away in a backpack in the back of Logan’s trailer. Your new life is in the passenger seat beside him. You’re equal parts terrified and excited to figure out what you’re going to do with the rest of it. 

a/n: can you tell I know fuck all about politics?

Also, smut, wow, this was hard and rough to write. I don’t know why it’s such a struggle. I just feel guilty writing such dirty words, it’s absolutely diabolical that I have no problem being crazy over a guy whose age gap with me is the same age as my parents, but I can’t write smut.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp♡

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice part 2

part 1!

pairings! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you cant stop thinking about the night you lost your virginity to jj…. even though you have a boyfriend

warnings! 18+ smut. cheating. fingering. oral sex (m. recieving) pnv sex. unprotected sex. not proof read.

it had been two months since you lost your virginity to jj and almost a month and a half since you started officially dating your new boyfriend.

he was nice. he took you out to eat once a week, he bought you small gifts, he complimented you and you never argued. but the sex was just…bad. it was always over way too quickly and he never payed any attention to your body or what you wanted. you figured he was just one of those boys who was too scared to go down on a girl, which was fine, but it probably wouldn’t suit you in the long run.

you hadn’t been hanging around your friends very often, usually turning them down to go out with your boyfriend and jj was getting increasingly frustrated with this.

but every time you were around your friends, jj in particular, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. when you talked to him, all you thought about was the way he called you baby when he came on your stomach and the way he made you cum on his face. you felt so completely guilty for these thoughts, but nothing would stop them. you figured the best plan of action was to avoid him. not entirely, but just try not to be around him alone.

but, you did end up alone with jj by mistake one afternoon.

you had just finished surfing with kie as the swell had come in that day. you both planned to stay at the beach a little longer, but you were hungry and didn’t have any food. kie decided to go pick up something from the heyward’s shop and you went back to the chateau to grab a six pack, only to find jj working on his bike, his shirt off and his shorts dirty, probably from engine oil.

you didn’t say anything as you walked up the steps to the porch, but jj noticed you and called out.

“hey, y/n!” he yelled, wiping his hands off on a towel and throwing it on his bike. “thought you were gonna stay at the shore until later?”

you were in your damp bikini top and bottoms and a pair of sandals. you turned around at the sound of his voice and met his gaze.

“yeah..” you said. awkwardly. “i am, i was just grabbing some beers.” you turn back around, pulling open the screen door and stepping inside. once you’re in the kitchen with the refrigerator door cracked, you hear jj come into the château after you.

“what’s going on with you?” he asks, standing in the living room. you shut the refrigerator and look over at him with furrowed brows.

“what do you mean?” you question, although you knew exactly what he meant. you didn’t expect the confrontation to happen now of all times.

“don’t act like you don’t know.” he crosses his arms over his chest. “you’ve been weird around me ever since we..”

you didn’t want to hear him say it.

“jj, i’ve just been hanging around my boyfriend a lot,” you try to defend yourself, hoping he’ll stop questioning you. “i’m sorry i haven’t been talking to you. ‘been busy.”

he nods, biting his lip and looking down at the floor.

“do you regret it?” he asks, looking back up at you.

“what?” you shake your head. “no, i just-“

“you promised you wouldn’t make things weird between us and now you barely even talk to me.” jj said. “you sure i didn’t do something wrong?”

“no jj!” your voice raised slightly. “i-“ you cut yourself off, not knowing what to say. “it’s just that every time i try and talk to you, i think about what we did.” you blurt out, almost making it sound like you both murdered someone and hid the body. you made it sound like a crime, and it pogue rules, it technically was. “i thought that avoiding you was gonna take my mind off it until i got over it.”

he walks closer to the kitchen, tossing his hat somewhere on the counter.

“so you do regret it?” he questions, leaning against the counter and looking straight at you.

you shake your head no.

“i don’t, but it’s kind of wrong of me to think about you while my boyfriend’s fucking me.”

you realized what you said after it had already left your mouth and your eyes widened.

“what’d you say?” he asks, cocking his head a little at your admission, a barely visible smile playing on his lips.

“uh-“

you quickly turn around to open the fridge again, looking for some beers to take and get the hell up out of there.

“no, say it again.” jj pulls your arm, twisting you back around to face him so that your bodies were dangerously close together. your face flushed with embarrassment and your heart was thumping out of your chest.

“jj,” you say, shrugging off his touch. “i really gotta go back to the shore.” you say, but you weren’t moving. jj knew that wasn’t what you really wanted.

“i’m not stopping you.” he pulled back from you and leaned against the counter once again, showing that you had free will to leave, but you still didn’t budge. your feet were glued in place.

you wanted to kiss him so bad and get that ridiculous smile off his lips, but the thought of your boyfriend who did little to please you was the only thing that was keeping you from doing it. you bit the inside of your cheek, nervously. the tension between you two was going to make your head explode.

“he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he?”

his words were your final straw.

you grabbed both sides of his face and instantly connected you lips with his. he kissed you back without a second thought, wrapping his arms around your waist. he backed you into the refrigerator as his lips moved perfectly with yours.

his fingers trailed down your hips and to your clothed core. he pulled away from the kiss to look at you, silently asking for permission for him to touch you, and you gave it.

still having you against the refrigerator’s surface, he skillfully moved your bikini bottoms to the side as two of his fingers sunk into your entrance. you were embarrassingly soaked already. you fight back a moan as he pulled out of you, just to slide right back in, hitting the spot he knew you needed.

“all this and i’ve barely even touched you?” he mocked, taking his fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. he looked you in the eyes as he sucked your slickness from his fingers. your lips were parted as you watched, desperately needing his hands on you again.

he then picked you up, his hands hooked under your thighs. you giggled as he carried you to the bedroom, kicking the door closed.

he gently placed you on the bed and reconnected his lips with yours, his tongue swiping yours. you reached to work on his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it off while never breaking the kiss. you slid his shorts down, his boxers barely hiding his desperation for you.

you palm him through the fabric, eliciting a groan from him against your lips that you needed to hear more of.

you sunk to your knees in front of him, yanking his boxers down and allowing his painfully hard cock to spring free. you took him in your hand, pumping a few times before your tongue poked through your lips to lick a long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip.

he gently grabbed your hair, trying to pull you away, but you licked him again, which loosened his grip.

“you don’t have to-“ his eyes rolled back as you finally took him all in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked his cock. your hands were placed on his knees. the moan you heard from him encouraged you to keep going, although his tip was hitting the back of your throat and you were trying hard not to gag. “fuck- baby, you don’t have to do this.”

you pull him from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips with his tip.

“i want to.” you say before taking him in your mouth again. he tries to keep his eyes locked with yours, but his head falls back in pleasure, his fingers lacing into your hair.

you only knew how to do this because your boyfriend showed you. you had to keep your eyes closed the whole time so you could pretend it was jj.

his breathing was getting heavier with each rise and fall of his chest as soft moans and strings of curses fell from his lips. he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock farther into your mouth. there were tears brimming your eyes as you tried to focus on pleasuring him.

“fuck- m’not gonna last much longer like this.” he said.

you kept going, desperately wanting to bring him over the edge, but he pulled your hair back, taking you off of him.

“gotta stop you, princess.” he grabbed your hands and helped you up from your knees. you sat on the bed, pouting. he stood over you, brushing your hair out of your face and noticing your change of attitude. “didn’t wanna cum like that.”

as much as you wished you could make him cum by sucking him off, you couldn’t complain now that he was giving you attention.

his hands guided themselves to your waist, where he then told you to turn around so you were now on your hands and knees, your ass facing him. he was still standing as he held your hips from the edge of the bed. you felt his tip at your entrance.

“this okay?” he asked.

you give him a yes, and then you feel him slowly enter you. it felt so much different than when he had been on top of you before. there was a slight pain due to how much deeper he could push into you from this angle, but the pain melted into pleasure within seconds.

he pulled out just to drive himself back into you. his pace was slow until you adjusted to the position, and then he steadily began going faster. his fingers dug into the sides of your ass, pulling you into him with every thrust.

as he went harder, you gripped the sheets and stuffed your face into the mattress under you, trying to keep yourself quiet, but you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips.

“fuck-“ jj cursed under his breath, his grip on you getting even harder. “feel so good, can’t get enough of this pussy”

his words brought you closer and his pace increased. you could feel him getting tenser, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“could have you like this every day if i could- shit.”

you were almost over the edge, the knot in your stomach threatening to undo.

“fuck- m’gonna cum princess” he moaned.

his last thrusts were deep and slow and they led you into perfect ecstasy. you came undone around his cock, moaning into the sheets right in time for him to pull out and finish on your back- your name leaving his mouth with curses and moans.

your body was limp when he cleaned your back with a towel, still in a haze from your orgasm.

“you okay?” he asked, running a hand down the middle of your back, feeling the ridges of your spine.

you nodded and sat up, grabbing your bikini from the floor and slipping it back on.

“kie is gonna kill me.” you say, slipping your sandals on your feet. “she’s not gonna believe any excuse i try to give her.”

“i’ll drive you down there.” jj offered. “i mean- are your legs alright to walk all the way to the shore or-“

you threw his shirt at his face and scoffed at him.

you had agreed to let him drive you to the beach while you fixed your hair in the visor mirror, trying to make yourself look presentable. although the whole way there you could only think about the words he said while he fucked you. you had no idea if he meant it or if it was just a thing he said in the moment. and this definitely wasn’t going to help save your thoughts about your boyfriend.

a/n: don’t know if i will write a part 3 to this, but requests are open for any jj or rafe fic!

tag list! (comment or message to be added or removed!)

@ifilwtmfc @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @xcallmetaniax @moondustedlily @x-0-madi-0-x @tumb1rgir1z

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run pt 2

By the time the five of you are in the house, you’re soaked through once more, teeth chattering when the cool air of the house hits your skin as Gaz opens the door, holding it open long enough to let the dogs trot in.

“Hey! Shake over there!” He shoos, flinching when Maggie sprays him with her shake off.

“Let’s get you taken care of pretty.” Price murmurs, and you push weakly at his chest, struggling to get down. Your mind is foggy, exhaustion fighting to take over, but there are four strange men now standing in your living room, and that seemed more pressing.

Price grunts, but finally gives in, setting you on your feet, and you put as much distance between yourself and them as you can. “What do you want? What is going on here?” You demand, trying to ignore the shake of your voice.

They glance at each other, having a silent conversation, and you glance towards the stairs. You had an old cell phone, and the service this far out was absolutely shit, but it was a chance-

“We would like a place to stay.” Price’s voice interrupts your thoughts, and your eyes shoot to look at them, and a shocked laugh tumbles past your lips.

“A place to stay? After what just happened? For god’s sake I don’t even know you!” You laugh, slightly hysteric, and Price takes a cautious step towards you, holding up his hands. “We didn’t mean to scare you sweetheart, honest. Didn’t think anyone lived here by the looks of it.” His tone is soft, comforting. He approaches you slowly, and you back away until your back hits the wall.

“How did you even know we were in there?” Ghost speaks this time, eyes trained on your face and you try not to crack under his gaze.

“You spooked Sebastian. In the six years I’ve lived here nothing has ever spooked that horse.” You glare, anger flaring when the four of them laugh. “You think scaring my stallion is funny?”

“No little bird, just…” Ghost trails off, chuckling and you can feel your eye twitch ever so slightly.

“It’s cute how protective you are over some animals.” He finishes, and he can tell his words are winding you up, the crinkle around his eyes indicating he finds this amusing. Bastard.

“They might just be animals to you,” You start, your frustration seeping into your words as you straighten your back. “But when I found this place they were starving and on the brink of death. I worked my ass off to make sure they made it. I worked for their trust after some asshole abandoned them here to fucking die. They are my herd, this is my land!” Your shoulders heave, sucking in a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart.

They stare at you, quiet and you close your eyes, clenching your fist as you struggle to maintain yourself. “You broke into my barn and scared my animals, held my own knife to my throat and invited yourselves into my home. Why is god's name should I let you stay here?” You ask, opening your eyes to stare them down, and for the first time tonight, they seem to crack under your gaze for once.

“Have you… Do you have any way of hearing the news?” Price questions, wincing and you frown. “The radio when I’m cleaning the barn. Why?”

They hesitate, looking between themselves as they shuffle their feet. Your eyes bounce between them, trying to think back to anything of importance that a reporter has broadcasted as of late.

Missing sheep from a town more than four hours north of you, a four way pile up down one of the highways,a break out at the prison, a wheeler transporting 60,000 gallons of wine tipping near the river…

A break out at the prison.

You freeze, all air leaving your lungs as you stare at them, four wanted criminals standing in your living room. You feel your knees buckle.

They notice your realization, hesitation crossing Price’s face when he notices your stiff figure.

“Please. Let us explain ourselves.” He all but begs, and you feel your hands shaking.

“You are wanted criminals!” You hiss, and they cringe, their previous bravado has disappeared.

“We will explain everything to you, we swear. Just… Please give us a chance.” Soap steps forward this time, big wide eyes trained on you. They’re just as soaked as you are, and in the light of the living room you see the bags under their eyes, the tension in their shoulders. They look exhausted, and not just from this night. There’s a haunted look behind their eyes, and you curse yourself when you feel your heart ache ever so slightly.

You make a noise at the back of your throat, turning to head up the stairs.

“Pretty where are you-“

“You’re soaking my floor. You can explain it to me after I’m out of this damn gown.” You mumble, hearing one of them mumble ‘damn shame’.

“I heard that!”

After a few moments you come back, a box of clothes in hand and they all raise a brow. “Thought you said no one else lived here?” Gaz asks suspiciously when they notice it’s a box of men’s clothes. You roll your eyes, shoving it into his hands.

“They’re my ex-husbands, I took it by mistake when I moved my boxes.” You huff, crossing your arms. It’s your turn to raise a brow at their shocked expressions. “What’s with your faces?”

“What kind of eejit divorces such a gorgeous lass?” Soap asks, and you feel insulted, till you realise he’s not joking. They all look you over, and you feel your face warm at the way their eyes darken. Turning away, you clear your throat, pointing up the stairs.

“The guest room is down the hall, it has a bathroom and towels. Leave your clothes in the tub.” You order, making your way towards your bedroom. You feel the stairs shake as they bound up them, and as they pass, Price give’s your hip a little squeeze and you swat at his hand.

“Thank you pretty.”

“I haven’t said yes yet. You were just ruining my hardwood floors.” You sniff, smacking his hand once more when he doesn’t let go.

“You are testing my patience most of all.”

“You haven’t made us leave though.”

“I can change that very quickly.” You snap, pulling his hand off your side and he takes the opportunity to pull you close, leaning down next to your ear.

“But I don’t think you will, will you sweetheart?” He whispers, and you bite your lip, pushing at his chest. “For god's sake, go change you old perv.” You hiss, wiggling in his grasp and he flashes you a grin before letting you go.

You slip into your room, locking the door before pressing your head against it. What have you gotten yourself into?

You quickly take a hot shower, letting the scalding water bring warmth back to your stiff joints. You towel off quickly, slipping into an oversized hoodie and some old pajama pants.

You can still hear the shower running down the hall when you step out, a boom of thunder sounding in the distance. You slip down to the kitchen, grabbing one of your mugs. You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

How could you be so foolish as to be letting escaped convicts use your bathroom?! God the feds were probably spread to every point in the world trying to track these men down. You can’t remember much the broadcast had said, just that there were four dangerous men on the run from one of the maximum security prisons a couple of hours away. How on earth did they wind up here?

You’re so lost to your thoughts you don’t hear the stairs creak, staring out into the backyard as you mull things over in your mind.

“‘Ppreciate the clothes lass, loads better!” A cheerful voice spooks you and you jump, dropping your mug to the floor. “Shit!” You curse, a matching ‘ah hell’ leaving Soap.

“Didn’t mean to scare you again bonnie, I’m sorry.” He sighs, running a hand over his face. You’re surprised to find genuine guilt there, and he gives you a sheepish look. “I’ll clean this up for ye.”

“Gone and lost us our chance Soap?” Gaz asks, frowning at the glass on the ground but Soap just waves him off. “Accident, scared the poor lass.”

“We keep doing that, she'll never give us a chance.” Gaz smiles at you, soft and sweet but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the bags under them worse after having cleaned up, and you feel that strange ache in your chest again. You glance at Soap, who is picking up the shards with his bare hands and you frown, swatting his hands away as you kneel beside him.

“Are you trying to hurt yourself?” You scold, and he gives you a surprised look before smiling, shrugging as he gently stops your hands from piling the remains of the mug. “Could ask the same of you bonnie, hands like these are much too pretty for such sharp things.” He mumbles, scooping up the shards without a care.

The two of them eye you nervously, and you can feel knots in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you motion towards the living room. “Sit. I’ll make something to drink.” You offer. They raise a brow and you glance at the ground.

“I’m sorry, I just thought-“

“No need to apologize, it’s just…” Gaz starts, trying to find the words and glances at Soap.

“We’re honestly surprised you didn't run for the nearest house possible when you had the chance.” Soap says bluntly, and you wince.

“No one around for miles.” You admit, and their faces fall slightly, shoulders tensing and you clear your throat. “I said I would hear you out. I plan to.” You say firmly, turning to walk into the kitchen, just to bump into a large chest.

“I gotta worry about you keeping your mouth shut little bird?” Ghost asks, arms crossing over his chest as he stares you down.

“I do have a radio that connects me to the closest ranger station. And another for the Police station in the little town 3 hours north.” You admit, and you see his eyes flash, but you hold up your hand before he speaks.

“No. You aren’t taking it.” You snap, and his eyes narrow, exhaling sharply.

“If they don’t hear from me periodically they get worried. It’s a small town, everyone knows one another and I do have to take trips to the store every month or so.” You don’t back down from his dark gaze, but your palms feel clammy.

“They ever check up on you unannounced?” Price is last to arrive, voice stern as he levels the same cold glare as Ghost and you swallow, standing straighter, Gaz and Soap looking between the three of you nervously.

“Not unless I ask them to or I haven’t called in a few weeks. Takes too long to get out here.” Your voice shakes towards the end, slipping between the two looming men.

“You’re all here, you can start talking anytime.” You quip, and Ghost scoffs. “Got a mouth on you don’t-“

“You are asking to stay in my home. Watch it.”

He snaps his mouth shut, glaring at you and you turn your back to him. Price clears his throat, his gaze heavy on your back as you turn on the stove.

“Listen. There has to be some type of trust for this to even begin to work. You haven’t hurt me, and besides that oaf holding a knife to my throat,” You and Simon glare at one another, but he breaks first, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You’re a feisty little thing.” He laughs, crossing the kitchen to plop down at the kitchen table like he owns it.

“Besides that, you haven’t given me any reason you’re here to harm me or rob me, considering you have no car. You could easily overpower me and keep me locked in one of my own rooms and you haven’t. That’s a good start.” You finish, hands shaking slightly as you start to make your tea, and Price gently takes the kettle from your hands.

“But you’re still scared.” He states, and your shoulders stiffen. “Four men are in my kitchen asking to hide from the police. I’ve only put together who is who with your little code names by listening to you talk to one another. I’m sorry for being a little frightened.” You spit, jumping when you feel his large hand on your hip.

“Oh if you don’t quit that-“

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you pretty.”

“Okay! I think we all need to take a minute, yeah?” Gaz announces, him and Soap staring at the three of you nervously. You pry Price’s hand off your hip, again, pushing him away.

“Start talking, now. Before I let Soap and Gaz stay here and let the two of you rot outside.” You huff, taking a seat at the table and they seem surprised.

“I told you, I put together who is who, and those two,” You point, glaring at Price and Ghost as you speak. “Have been very respectful and kind.”

The two of them perk up, lapping up the small praise like thirsty dogs as their chests puff out.

Price frowns, keeping eye contact with you as he slips into the chair opposite of you. “We’ll behave.” He mutters, cutting a look at Ghost when he makes an offended noise in the back of his throat.

“We’re sorry. We didn’t mean any of the harm or fear we have caused you, really thought this place was abandoned. The boys and I appreciate you hearing us out when you have absolutely no reason to. And I… apologize.” He clears his throat, casting you a glance over before meeting your eyes once more.

“Haven’t been around such a gorgeous little thing like yourself in a long time. Forgot my manners.” He grins now, causing heat to bloom in your chest and you splutter, narrowing your eyes at him as you fight the heart crawling up your neck.

“Story. Now.”

“Oh come on pretty, am I at least forgiven?” He asks, and you know he’d deny that he’s pouting, but it still makes a small smile tug your lips.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I could sweet talk you some more.”

“Much more interested in why you were in prison.”

Price sighs, but there’s a smile on his face as he relaxes in his chair.

“Better settle in. It’s a bit of a tale.” He crosses his arms, settling back.

“I’ve got all night.” You shoot back, resting your chin on your hand as you get comfortable.

What have you gotten yourself into?