#is 1 am and eye kitty brained
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mooties is h it okai if i meow . in your.. inbox. someitmes.. or ish that . not allowed... .. âË·ÍàŒÂ·ÍËââ
#âČïž êŁà§ àŁȘă
€đ tiny els#meow meow#meow#meow posting#kittyposting#mew mew mew#kitty regressor#is 1 am and eye kitty brained#mrrp#mrrp :3#prolly gonna kittypost on elliereg ..#tehee :3#.. meow..
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âhow to ask your girlfriend if youâre bad at sex?â
warnings: smut! vibrator, protected sex, overstimulation, squirting
jisung! rummages through your drawers looking for your phone charger, his phone a little under 20%, when he stumbled upon a pink device, half the size of his hand, with a hello kitty top, confusion etched onto his face.
bringing it closer, he examines his new discovery. clicking on the one button he could find, the device comes to life, vibration coursing through his fingers.
he drops it in shock, finally realizing what it was before furiously shutting it off as fast as he could, every click just switching to a new beat before finally powering off and throwing it back where he found it, slamming! your drawer shut.
why the hell did you have a vibrator?
âsungie, you okay in there?,â you yell from your living room.
ây-yeah baby! just dropped my phone,â he replies quickly pulling his phone out of his pocket and doing the only thing he could think of.
â
*7 dream, 1 cup*
jisung: hypotheticallyâŠ
haechan: iâm sleeping.
jisung: if u find a hypothetical hello kitty vibrator in ur girlâs hypothetical drawer, does that mean ur bad at sexâŠhypothetically?
haechan: im up
chenle: yes
mark: no
jisung: mark pls elaborate
chenle: fuck u how about me?
jisung: idgaf about ur opinion!
haechan: yeah! wdgaf!
chenle: k. all im saying is my girl doesnât need a vibrator with how good my dick is
mark: donât listen to him, think of the vibrator as your friend đââïž
jisung: this isnât about me! itâs hypothetical!
haechan: yeah, i agree with mark ⊠my girl and i tried it last month and đ©đźâđšđ€ŻđȘŠđđïžâïžđŒđ
mark: too much unwanted information about ur sex life but yeah same here, felt like i died and went to heaven for a split second too
haechan: omg what type of vibrator ur girl got? đ
mark: not telling you
haechan: âčïž
chenle: real men used to go to war for pussy now they let a battery operated device beat them at sex
haechan: stfu chenle u know nothing!
mark: real men used to go to war for pussy now theyâre scared once their girl touches a vibrator sheâll never need his dick again
haechan: ooooohhhh get him!
*chenle has left the gc*
haechan: dramatic ass bitch, no one add him back!
jeno: whatâs happening here?
*renjun has added chenle to the gc*
mark: couldnât even last a second đ
haechan: renjun you traitor!
renjun: i actually donât give a fuck!, jisung just go talk to your girlfriend about it for the love of god! and chenle stop messaging me!
chenle: just ordered a vibrator, gonna prove to yall that my girl donât need that shit
haechan: which one did u get? u want recs? đ€
jaemin: jisung can you ask y/n where she got her hello kitty vibrator so i can get one for my girl? đ„ș
jisung: this is not about y/n!
â
he sighs in frustration, his friends were absolutely no help but he was more at ease knowing that their girlfriends had one too. taking renjunâs advice, he decides to just talk to you about it but he couldnât find a way to do so.
he stays there on your bed googling how to ask your gf if you're bad at sex?, until his phone died, leaving him staring at the wall.
you entered the room, eyeing him suspiciously, he was supposed to be back in the living room 30 minutes ago, it doesnât take that long to grab your charger, âyou okay?â you ask.
âamibadatsex?,ïżœïżœïżœ he quickly blurts out, brain completely shutting down.
âwhat?,â
âam i bad at sex?,â
âwhat?! no!,â
âohâŠâ
âis there a reason why youâre asking this?,â
âi uhmâŠfound your vibratorâ
your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, âoh my god jisung, why were you snooping through my stuff!?â
âi wasnât! i was just looking for your charger, i swear!,â he nervously explains, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.
âi-i got one when you were on tour,â you confessed, cheeks still pink from this conversation.
âohâŠ,â
âyeahâŠâ you look down at your feet, just wanting the ground to open up, swallow you whole and take you away from this conversation.
jisung walks over to where you were standing, gently turning your face towards him, âyou donât have to be embarrassed baby but can you please tell me why?, i donât feel too good about it,â he reveals his insecurity and you knew you had to clear things up.
âi just- i couldnât cum with my fingers alone anymoreâŠi needed yours but of course that wasnât possible so i decided to try it outâ
he feels his pants tighten at your confession. the image of you getting frustrated at not being able to cum without him going straight to his cock.
âdid it work?,â
âuhm yeah, it actually didâŠ.but it can never make me feel the way you do,â you admit, easing his worries.
he thinks back to what mark and haechan said. âcan i try it?,â
âhuh? i mean sure, i donât know what it would feel like for you though,â
âoh my god noâŠ.can i try it on you?,â
âohâŠlike youâre gonna use it on me?,â
âyeah, can i play with you?,â
âoh o-okay,â
slowly you walk over, grabbing the vibrator out of your drawer and handing it to him, nerves of excitement bubbling through you.
âhow does it work?,â he asks, inspecting the pink device again.
âwell, it has 8 different vibrations, i usually just use the first 3, they feel the best for me and well you just place it where you would usually touch me,â you explain and he nods attentively.
âsit down,â he backs you into your bed, voice going an octave deeper and all you can do is follow his order.
sitting on the edge of your bed, jisung kneels down right in front of your core, you watch him, feeling yourself getting more turned on with every second that passes.
he pulls your shorts down, hips automatically raising up, before diving back into your clothed core, breathing in your scent and pulling your panties to the side, âyouâre already so wet baby,â he praises licking a strip down your folds. thereâs no way your vibrator is going to taste you before he does.
âdoes it turn you on knowing what i'm about to do?,â
you moan in response pussy clenching at nothing, âstop teasing sung please,â
jisung clicks the device once, the vibration hitting your ears in the quiet room, quickly pushing it on your cunt. you hiss at the first contact and he pulls it away, afraid he had hurt you, âwhat? what happened? are you okay?,â
âim okay sungie it was just too much too quick,â you smile, âhere,â you guide him back to your pussy, âjust push it lightly first, let me get used to it,â he does so, moving your vibrator in slow circles until it finally hit you at the righ spot, âohhh, f-fuck,â you moan. jisung takes note of it, placing it there again earning another whine from you, âr-right there, baby, turn it upâ
he clicks it again, the device gaining more speed before placing it back on your wet pussy, âoh my god!,â you moan, hand clutching his t-shirt, pussy clenching around air, âf-feel what im feeling baby,â you say, grabbing his other hand and leading it right to your hole. his fingers disappearing in you, âyouâre so fucking tight,â he compliments in awe.
with the way he has curled his finger repetitively hitting that spot you can never seem to reach, the vibrator humming against your clit, your body gives in quicker than usual, âi-im cumming, baby i-dont stop, keep it right there,â you moan, pushing his hand harder, the added pressure finally sending you to release, back hitting your bedsheets, eyes rolling back. jisung watches in amazement, collecting the juices with his tongue making you whine.
all he could think about is if you were that tight around his finger, how would you feel around his throbbing cock.
âi need to feel you,â he makes his way over to you, soft lips landing on yours as you taste yourself in his tongue. he pushes his body on top of yours, making you feel his hard member, âyou feel that baby? thatâs how much i need youâ
you swiftly discard his tight jeans, freeing him from his boxers, large cock springing up to his stomach. reaching for the condom in your nightstand, you place it on him, he moans at the squeeze of your hand, his rock hard boner somehow getting harder and you start getting worried. his cock was always enough to make you see stars but with the added vibrations youâre not too sure if you could take it.
you didnât have much time to dwell on it as he lined up against your core, slowly entering you, moans mixing in the air.
âfuck jisung, y-youâre so big,â
âbaby,â he grunts, rocking into you, your wet pussy making it easy for him to slide in and out.
he grabs your vibrator again, clicking it on and placing it back on your clit, pussy immediately tightening around him. he groans as you pull him closer and closer towards you, the vibration going straight to his cock, âholy fuck,â he gasps at the new sensation.
âf-feels so good sungie,â you whine against his ear, hips meeting his every thrust, getting quicker and quicker. the rest of your clothes being thrown across the room. you grab onto his back for support.
with his body against you and yours still being sensitive from your previous orgasm, jisung feels you cum hard. you were so fucking tight around his dick, it all feels too good. his lips swallow your moans as he continues his actions, desperately chasing his release.
âj-jisungâ you gasp in pain, vibrator still placed firmly on your clit, but your boyfriendâs thrusts were getting messier and messier, signaling his nearing orgasm, and you wanted him to cum just as hard.
soon enough the pain turned into pleasure, a new commotion stirring up in your stomach, down to your toes. you no longer understand the feeling thatâs taking over.
your vibrator has made you cum so many times before but you never felt it work with your boyfriendâs dick â this was entirely new territory.
âf-fuck, j-jisung, iâm gonna-,â you scream at the overstimulation, legs shaking, toes curling and before you knew it your pussy pushed him away, juices squirting onto his belly.
âholy shit babe,â he groans, the action sends jisung into overdrive, watching it all unfold as his release quickly fills up the condom, âaghhh,â he grunts in pleasure, body going slack on yours as you tried to calm your racing hearts.
âwhat just happened?,â he asks in amazement.
âi-i think i just squirted,â
âyou think?â
âi think so, i-i don't know, it's never happened before,â you confess, getting embarrassed. he canât help but smirk proudly, knowing that he was the first and only person to get you to do that.
jisung kisses you before you have the chance to hide behind your embarrassment.
âthat was so. fucking. hot,â he compliments in between kissesâ letâs do it againâ
â
he finally finds your charger on top of your desk, his phone coming alive. in just a span of 2 hours he and his new friend have made you cum a total of 6 times, him 4, the room smelling of sex. and honestly he could go again but you have made him stop for now, body exhausted.
*7 dream, 1 cup*
jisung: hi chat
haechan: heâs alive! so how was it? tell us everything! đ
chenle: no one cares
haechan: i care!
mark: yo dude u good? you just stopped responding
jisung: sorry, phone died
jisung: can confirm
jisung: đ©đźâđšđ€ŻđȘŠđđïžâïžđŒđ
*haechan reacted đ€© to your message*
*mark reacted đ to your message*
renjun: youâre welcome
chenle: just paid for expedited shipping yall better not be lying to me rn
jaemin: jisung did you ever ask y/n where she got it?
jisung: oh itâs at www.NowCummingToday.com/sanriocollab-hellokitty-vibrator
jaemin: thank you!! đ
renjun: that canât be a real site
jeno: holy shit they have so many options
chenle: robots are gonna take over my girls pussy and itâs your faults
haechan: ooh! try the rose toy! that oneâs crazy ahaha đ€
jisung: đ«Ą
mark: đ«Ą
jaemin: đ«Ą
-
an: happy bday to my baby jisung <3 (p.s. i tried to do the little smau text thing bcs those are my favorites to read but i honestly couldnât find an app that was free plus too lazy to figure it out so sorry!âŠif anyone has tips pls let me know >.< )
#i just know heâs big#heâs an innocent freak#everyone greet my baby a happy birthday!#nct jisung#jisung x reader#jisung smut#nct dream x reader#nct dream smut#nct x reader#nct smut#love.c.
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Nyctophobia
Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness
Ch.1
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)
Word count: 9.2k
A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go
How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldnât recall. It felt like it had been forever since olâ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didnât think heâd send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didnât think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.
But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.
Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadnât aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs youâd ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.
You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. âHey Kitty,â you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.
âIâm so happy to see you itâs been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought youâd died and Charles wasnât telling us, Logan didnât think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought youâd just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!â She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.
âWell, I can tell you that Iâm not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. Andâ wait whoâs Logan?â Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?
âOh, right yeah. A new teacher,â Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. âHe uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor⊠sorry.â She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldnât be more grateful. You always thought you werenât ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.
âIâm hurt, a girlâs gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?â you cracked a smile, Kittyâs face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought youâd be upset? You were touched. âAnyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped atââ You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.
âWelcome back!â you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.
âChrist! Youâve all just knocked five years off my life!â you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.
âTheyâve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, theyâve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,â You didnât need to see Scottâs eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.
âYeah well⊠they can be really persuasive.â She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.
âItâs good to see you,â Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment youâd had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.
You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.
âHey you,â you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.
âHey.â
âHow longâve you been here? I didnât actually think youâd listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought youâd just shrug it off and continue your own path,â you were relieved to see she had listened to what youâd said two years ago. Youâd urged her down this path, to find the school. Youâd already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.
âUh⊠about thatâŠâ youâd only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.
But Storm wasnât looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.
âLogan!â
Ah, you guess that made sense now.
Whoever youâd expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.
Now you understood why he taught combat and PE⊠he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldnât say it didnât suit him. He was very⊠rugged lumberjack looking.
You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You donât think youâd ever seen a grumpier-looking man.
âLogan, this is Phantom,â your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.
âAh, so you do exist,â his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.
âHeard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,â you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.
âCan ya blame me?â He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.
âGuess not. Youâre also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?â You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldnât help grinning slightly.
âLanguage!â Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess youâd forgotten how to behave around the kids too.
Logan held his hands up in surrender. âIn my defense, I didnât think you existed,â though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldnât keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.
âIâm kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.â You shrugged. âBesides, Iâmââ
âSheâs being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!â Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didnât know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.
âSo Iâve heard,â Loganâs eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.
âThough, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didnât exist and all.â You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.
You hadnât realised how completely caught up in the introduction youâd been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
âAnyway,â you continued pointedly, âyou were saying? So you didnât come to find this place?â your head tilted again slightly in confusion. âHow did you end up here?â
Rogue looked from you to Logan, whoâs eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. âNope, still confused. How didâŠ?â
âWell, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,â she explained quietly.
âMore you found me but sure.â He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. Youâd heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charlesâ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if youâd returned.
âSo, you brought her here?â You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how heâd succeeded where youâd failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.
âMe? Nah, didnât know this place existed at that point.â
âSeems to be a common theme with you,â you couldnât help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.
âNever gonna live that down, am I?â
âNot whilst Iâm still breathing,â you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. âSo howâd you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didnât know about this?â
âTall, dark, andâ what?â He asked, bewildered.
Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. âThat would be us. Weâd been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.â
You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.
âI see. Glad it wasnât my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isnât much better. Howâs your mutation coming along?â you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.
âStill hard to control, but Iâm getting better at it!â She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When youâd met her two years ago, you didnât know if she even wanted help. Sheâd been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didnât think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.
âIâm glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,â you gestured to the room around, to the friends sheâd made, to the haven sheâd found.
âOh, my nameâs Marie. Guess I didnât tell you before.â She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.
âMarie it is.â Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending⊠fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. âOh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldnât mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.â Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didnât smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!
âUhâŠâ Storm started.
âAbout thatâŠâ Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.
âYour bedâs real comfy, bubâ he smirked, and you gaped.
âYouâre fucking kidding me?â
âLanguage!â both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.
âFuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!â you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. âIâm not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? Thatâs shocking behaviour from the both of you!â You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.
âDonât blame those twoâ Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. âwe didnât have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, butââ
âThe view was too nice to pass up on,â Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you werenât so heartless that youâd take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.
âYeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?â you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.
âYouâre in the one above, still got the same view, donât worry,â she elbowed you slightly. That wasnât so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.
âGood enough, Iâm still mad about it though.â Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.
Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. âWhatâs got you so giddy?â you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.
âOh nothing, just glad you're home. Itâs been kinda boring without you.â You laughed at that. With everything thatâs been going on, you didnât think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.
Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didnât want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.
âI got it,â Loganâs voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadnât realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.
For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.
âSuper strength?â Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.
âNah, not quite.â
âThen how the fuââ you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. ââuuun. How fun.â you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldnât deny he was good-looking. Youâd be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldnât mind uncovering.
Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.
âAh, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.â
You snorted a laugh. âNo, you didnât. You absolutely knew it was my return.â You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.
âAs quick as ever. And I see youâve met our Wolverine.â Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.
âWolverine? Seriously?â you asked, laughing at his shrug. âCanât think whyâŠâ your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.
âI thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.â You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.
âCâmon! Youâre gonna love it!âYou were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.
Logan had to admit, he didnât mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasnât the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasnât the kind of guy to stare at a womanâs ass, he wasnât mad that he was behind you.
Everything heâd been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything heâd seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour⊠it was all right there in front of him.
Literally.
Heâd lost count of how many times heâd had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? Heâd only known you for half an hour and heâd displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.
He was in huge trouble.
The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadnât exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, heâd only known you for thirty minutes.
He had to remind himself of that.
âHere we are!â Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what youâd find behind the wood. Heâd helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, thatâs what he told himself.
You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.
If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt heâd felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.
âYou⊠Kitty, you didnât need to do this,â You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant youâd nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.
âIt wasnât just me! I employed help,â Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. âAnd others offered to help.â
Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.
âYou helped?â you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.
âHere anâ thereâŠâ he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.
âHere and there? Thatâs such a lie! Heâd heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!â Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didnât even know you, and he did this for you.
âKitty, thatâs enâoof!â Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how heâd imagine it. Not that he had imagined itâŠ
âThank you,â you whispered earnestly, and any guard heâd put up previously melted away. He didnât exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. âMaybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,â your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.
âAnythinâ else?â He asked, mirroring your expression.
âNot yet, but Iâm sure Iâll think of something,â was it Loganâs sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?
Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didnât care, and somehow, you didnât think he did either.
Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didnât look like you regretted anything.
âI really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is⊠well itâs better than what I was imagining,â you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. Theyâd really outdone themselves. Heâd really outdone himself. And you couldnât help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. âWhatâs your mutation, by the way? You never said,â you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.
Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.
You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. âI seeâŠâ was all you said, before it hit you. âWolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!â You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.
âWhaddya mean it made sense before?â
âDonât think too much into it,â you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.
âYeah, alright Phantom.â He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. Heâd been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldnât say he wasnât impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.
âGet it now?â
Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.
You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.
Loganâs lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. âGot it,â the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. âKitty, we shouldâ the fuck?â
You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. âGuess she left,â you shrugged. âOr she never existed.â That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since youâd felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.
âIâll leave you to it,â he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man youâd just met.
He had to remember this was a woman heâd just met.
âYeah, thanks. Iâll uh, see you later?â You didnât mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk youâd seen countless times already.
âSure.â He said, before closing the door.
You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. âWhat the fuck?â
Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. âWhat. The. Fuck?â
Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo youâd missed so dearly on your travels, youâd changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavierâs office where heâd just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadnât listened to half of it.
âSo, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kittyâs, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.â He finished his explanation slowly, and you didnât have the heart to tell him you had no idea what heâd just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didnât have to.
Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. âYouâve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?â He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.
âYeah, itâs like Iâm holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,â you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. âSo, Iâm not like Kitty?â you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.
âIâm afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.â Youâd almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.
âI think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.â You nodded. You actually did understand, because thatâs how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.
âMy dear, thatâs why we brought you back. Weâve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. Itâs led us to believe that your abilities donât stop at shadow walking.â He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. Heâd mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.
âShadow manipulation, right?â You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew thatâs where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.
âEssentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heartâs content. In⊠theory.â She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.
âBut in practice?â
âIn practice⊠honestly we donât know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.â You nodded a little numbly. Youâd only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.
Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. âWell, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. Youâve had a long day and perhaps right now isnât the best time to be entertaining new ideas.â He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.
You couldnât agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since youâd become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It⊠scared you. And you didnât scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.
âRight. Thanks, Professor. Iâll uh, see you tomorrow then.â You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.
Fuckâs sake.
Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You werenât the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.
You didnât turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, sheâd had custom-made for the print on the side to say âPhasers Forever!â. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug youâd gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. Youâd made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.
Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.
Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.
âPhantom.â He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.
âWolvie.â You smiled back, though you could feel it didnât reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.
âYou alright?â Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didnât like seeing you despondent.
âYeah, fine.â It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liarâs smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.
He really didnât like you lying to him.
âUh huh?â Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didnât even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.
âIâm just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? Iâm starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,â You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasnât exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.
Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didnât have to see his suspicion. If you werenât ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldnât push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. âHow was your meeting with Charles?â
Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.
âYeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.â Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you werenât always paying attention to what was going on around you.
For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising heâd given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.
âSâthat why you look like your pet just died?â You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didnât know him, and he didnât know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.
âLook, Logan. I appreciate it, and what youâre trying to do, but at the same time, I donât know you. And you donât know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. Iâm tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?â
Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasnât expecting you to be so sharp. He didnât know why he wasnât expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. âThat mightâve been the nicest fuck off Iâve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.â He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didnât know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.
âI didnât meanââ You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.
It had been roughly half an hour since heâd left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didnât know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasnât like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuckâs sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didnât think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing heâd handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!
Heâd just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasnât any kind of fist knockingâŠ
With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didnât dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.
âBefore you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know itâs good.â You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?
Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. âPeace pesto pasta?â
You nodded. âHomemade, donât forget.â Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. âAnd also beer so you physically canât turn me down.â You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldnât be further from the truth.
âHomemade peace pesto, beer, andâŠ?â
You stuck your tongue in your cheek. âAn apology.â You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. âCan I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These arenât the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress soâŠâ you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.
âYou were a waitress?â
âYes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they wonât fall on your feet,â you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasnât as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.
With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.
âIt wasnât that bad, just uncomfortable,â you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what heâd just seen, giving you a look of âfair enoughâ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though youâd done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.
âIâm sorryâŠâ you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. âThe Professor told me something in the meeting and⊠rattled me, thatâs all,â you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.
âHow did you not just break your jaw?â you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.
âNot much can break it, considering my skeletonâs adamantium.â Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.
âWait, how don't youâ ohhhhhâŠâ It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. âAny other secrets you're hiding?â You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.
âYou wanna talk about keeping secrets now?â He asked curtly.
âWalked into that oneâŠâ
âYeah, you kinda did.â
You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.
âYou know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?â You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta youâd made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. âSo, turns out, itâs nothing like Kittyâs. Itâs not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.â You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. âKitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, itâs not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,â you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. âItâs like, Iâm holding water in my bare hands,â you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. âAnd this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,â your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. âHow Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but itâs a constant strain⊠Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just⊠I donât know. It scared me I guess.â
The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. âI uh, donât really understand whatâs scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?â he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.
You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. âWell apparently weâve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but⊠I donât know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk orââ
âWould you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,â Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.
âExactly.â You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didnât know what to do, and you didnât know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who youâd only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. âAnyway, yeah, thatâs why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,â You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.
Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.
Youâd come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didnât want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever âIâm so sorry this is happening speechâ he was clearly getting ready to spill.
But for the umpteenth time in the short while youâd known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. âTo the inevitableâ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.
âIt wonât come to that,â youâd forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Loganâs willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. âLook, I was pretty fuckinâ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savinâ, but look at us now,â in complete honesty, Logan still didnât think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. âHeâll help ya. Youâll get this under control. And it ainât all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,â You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.
Logan was right. That was a good thing.
âWell, weâll see tomorrow. Thatâs when we really start everything. We have another meeting before weâre straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?â You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.
Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time heâd felt like this toward anyone? He hadnât wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didnât even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.
âI uh⊠ya know I wanted to apologise too.â
Well, that caught you off guard. âWhâ wait what? Why? What for?â you couldnât help firing off questions at speeds you didnât know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.
âYou were right. I donât know you. And you donât know me.â Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.
âYeahâŠ. I did say that didnât I? Iââ
âBut,â he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. âThat doesnât mean I donât wanna know yaâŠâ Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you werenât telling him to fuck off, that is.
âIâ Uh, okay, sure⊠what dâya wanna know?â you asked, hoping to fuck you didnât sound ridiculous. If you didnât, Logan didnât seem to mind or care.
âYou can start of by tellinâ me how or where you learned to cook so well,â you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. âNah Iâm serious kid, that was fuckinâ great,â Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.
âKid? Do you know how old I am?â you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way youâd show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?
âDo you know how old I am?â he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.
âIâd put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?â you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course⊠just for⊠science.
Yeah. For science.
Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. âNot quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.â Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. âTake a picture bubs, itâll last longer.â
âB-but⊠howâ? Yâ? Hundred andâ what the fuck?â You couldnât get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. âWhy you donât look a day over ninety. Youâre in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently⊠probably looking for their exhibit back,â you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.
âYa done?â
âIâll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?â You asked, and Logan couldnât detect anything other than genuine curiosity.
âRegenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but itâs around hundred and thirty,â he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. âSo?â he prompted, and you looked up.
âSo what?â
âHowâdya make the pasta?â
You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a bĂ©chamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you werenât so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didnât have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day youâd had, or if that was just who you were, he didnât know. But honestly? He didnât really care.
As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.
âAnyway, thatâs how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.â Youâd somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.
It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.
âI should probablyââ
âLook, you shouldââ
You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldnât find it in you to care.
You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldnât blame the man. Youâd been talking for hours.
Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.
âThank you. For letting me talk for hours. You donât need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.â You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
âYeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?â He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasnât about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasnât about to admit he wasnât pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way heâd stopped them from doing all evening. âIâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â
You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, youâd noticed. That was almost exactly what youâd said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.
âSure.â Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, youâd run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.
But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after youâd disappeared.
Yeah⊠he was definitely in trouble.
#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#x men x reader#x men logan#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#the wolverine x reader#logan smut#logan x reader smut#x men wolverine#essa's works
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Come here, kitty, kitty! - Sylus (Part 2)
Summary: The curse of the Evol cats wears off. Majority of it, at least. Sylus finds himself in his 'human' form. However, your reaction is not what he expected. He thinks you're one of the most interesting persons he has ever met.
Warnings: None. Fluff. I really think Sylus is a green flag. Man is guarded, but when he opens up he's a softie. Tall, dark and handsome lol. He is whipped. It turned kinda angsty (sowwy). Slight - perhaps - spoiler/theory about his past if you squint.
Also, thank you to everyone who read part one! I am truly happy that so many of you enjoyed it!
And thank you to the Anon that messaged me! I am truly happy you loved the story! Thank you!
You can read PART 1 here!
The sun filters through your broken blinds. You scrunch your nose, eyelids fluttering until they fully open. Your [e/c] eyes meet your old wooden ceiling. A yawn leaves your lips as you stretch.
"Good morning."
"Morning!" You chirp reflexively, yawning once again.
Wait.
Slowly, you turn your head.
Sylus smirks, wondering if your half asleep brain has finally caught up on what is going on.
"Um..." You stutter, tugging the blanket closer to you. "Hi..?"
The smirk disappears from his face at your tame reaction. Every time he thinks he's got you figured out, you surprise him.
You should've been screaming, trying to get away from him, hurling objects in his direction.
Instead you're looking at him with more curiosity than shock.
"Red?"
He meets your eyes, and nods. "You don't seem surprised."
"I am!" You assure. "It's just... I don't know how to react. I mean... You looked so familiar. And when I looked into your eyes... I realized you were my little kitty."
"Your little kitty?"
A little flustered, you hurry to correct yourself. "I mean... the... the kitty..."
Rising his hand, he stops you. "Now, I do not like owing people. But you took me in and fed me. So thank you, kitten. Name your price."
Eh? A bit flabbergasted, you stare at him. "P... price?"
"Yes."
Honestly, you just want one thing. "Can I pet your ears?"
Pet his ears... is that what you want? Well, who is he to deny such request?
Rather than giving his verbal approval, Sylus leans down, so that you can reach the twitching ears atop his head.
He is a bit uneasy when your hand first makes contact with one of his ears, but he realizes that, just like yesterday, you're being careful and mindful. His ears are sensitive, but the way you're caressing them feels tolerable nice.
"You're a cute big cat." You smile, switching your attention to his other ear.
A tiny gasp leaves your lips as he leans into your touch, a lot more instinctively than consciously.
"If you tell anyone about this, there will be consequences."
You can't help but giggle, solemnly nodding. "Nobody will know."
He nodded, satisfied, and once you have had your fill, he moves away.
"Can I have your name?"
Normally, he wouldn't reveal his identity. However, because he is almost one hundred percent sure you don't know who he is, he complies.
"Sylus."
"How can I get you back home, Sylus?"
"I'd need to borrow your phone, kitten."
You nod, and without an ounce of hesitation, hand him your device, which had charged during the night.
Sylus uses the special code from the unknown number to contact the twins, which soon reply that they will be on their way shortly.
They don't press for any answers when he asks them to bring him a change of clothes.
Good. He is not in the mood to be answering anything.
At around an hour later, he has changed into his suit, and he walks out of your small bathroom, buttoning his dress shirt at the wrist.
"Thank you again for your... hospitality." He reiterates.
You nod, offering some water bottles to the masked individuals that came to pick up the 'boss', as they've called him.
"I hope to see you again, Sylus." You say softly, walking him to the door.
The taller male hesitates for one second, before looking down at you. "I look forward to it, kitten." He says.
This isn't going to be the last time you see him.
He's going to make sure of it.
Once he is back in his penthouse on N109 zone, Sylus can't help but feel bored.
His eyes darken as Mephisto updates him on your whereabouts. He clicks his tongue, expertly maneuvering a golden bullet with his fingers.
Money and power can give him anything he wants.
Except that the one thing he wants is priceless.
His Evol turns to dust the bullet in his hand as he decides his course of action.
Sylus has always found humans interesting, but you... are a complete enigma.
He wants to know every little detail. What makes you smile, what makes you sad. What ticks you, what excites you.
He wants things to go organically. The two of you have a bond, already, and he would never force you into anything, but he's quite sure that you're also thinking about him.
Fate... is cruel.
But it is wise.
You have found each other, and he firmly belives there is a reason why.
Maybe in this life, there is a hope for happiness for him.
#sylus x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace#lnds#lnds sylus#sylus#sylus love and deepspace#qin che#love and deepspace fic#reader insert#fluff
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Claws Down (Thatch x f!cat!reader)
Pt 1
AN Omg guys back to back posts? It had been a hot minuteee since I managed that! Idk what came over me I just came across Claws out and I was like man I have the perfect thing for this plus someone expressed they were interested in so ha perfect! Two birds one stone
Here Reader is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese
Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics
"Come on, Kitty, Don' look at me like that." Thatch laughed as he continued to chop the carrot in front of him.
"Why am I here." she sneered, pulling at her hands, the restraints clinking against the table as she did
"Why, it's my Kitty Watch."
"I don't need to be watched over like some toddler, and Don't call me that," she snapped back.
"Oh, come on, don't get your feathers ruffled. Besides, you really gave us no choice. We can't have an aggressive stowaway runninâ around the ship as we sail, much less you, who seem to love tryinâ to claw at people."
"I don't even have my nails out; you guys made sure of that," she growled, gesturing at the sea-stone bracelet that hung on her wrist.
"Ya sent a crewmate to the med bay cause you clawed at him even with that on," he reminded her, snickering as she continued to glare at him.
Why so mad, Kitty?" he teased, sliding his chopped vegetables into a pot as he stirred it.
"I told you to stop calling me that, and you tell me why would I be mad about being stuck with a bunch of sweaty pirates cuffed to the damn counter?"
"Gee," he said as he scooped some of the soup into a bowl and put it in front of her.
"Here I am making your food, and you're just being mean to me, and besides, Marco warned ya that if ya hurt someone, the cuffs go back on; it's not on me," he pouts.
She rolled her eyes and sent him a mocking smile as she put her restraints up and jiggled them.
"You goinâ to be nice?" he asked as he made his way around the counter, taking a key from his pocket.
"Just get them out."
He shook his head but did as she asked, pulling the restraints off her with a slight 'clink.'
"Finally," she huffed, turning back to the plate in front of her, grabbing the spoon provided, and beginning to eat slowly.
"See, I knew you would come arounâ, Kitty!" he said, sitting on the stool beside her.
She simply glanced at him, taking him in, analyzing him as her hold on the utensil tightened.
"Kitty..." He warned
She looked up at him with a slight glare and lunged at him, smashing the spoon against his hand.
He let out a hiss at the action but quickly extended his other hand to catch the fleeing girl and dodging her attempt at clawing his face off.
"Now wait a cotton pickinâ minute, Little Lady, I thought we were making progress," he said, pulling her back first into his chest as he held both of her wrists in a hugging fashion as she attempted to dig her nails into him, much like their first encounter.
"Like hell we are," she cried struggling against his hold, quickly realizing she was no match for him in strength, so she changed her tactic, digging her heel into his.
"Whoa there," he called as he avoided her stomping attempts ad he quickly wrapped one of his legs against hers, trapping them against the stool he sat on.
"You insufferable fucking hair for brains," she wailed as she tried to buck him off as he struggled to keep her restrained against him.
This continued for a while until she eventually tired herself out, and only the sound of their heavy breathing echoed in the kitchen.
"Ya done with the hissy fit?" he muttered.
"Let me go."
"Please, just don't try to run away again."
"Or what, you will cuff me again?" she glumly replied.
"Again, Kitty, we don't want to; in fact, we wouldn't mind havinâ a stowaway walkinâ around; we've had a few, and they are free to roam around. The reason you have restraints is because you keep hurtinâ my brothers; you will hurt yourself, too, eventually," he explains, looking down at her.
"If you can promise to stop hurtinâ them and doing reckless stuff, yaâ are free to roam arounâ," he finishes.
"If that is the problem, why did you stop me from leaving the first day you saw me?"
"Because ya were going to steal our boat!" he exclaimed baffled.
"Oh please, you guys can handle missing one junior boat" she called, rolling her eyes.
"It aint about that; it's about the principle!" he cries.
"You're pirates!"
"Listen, just promise ya won't hurt anyone or steal from us and ya are free to go." He pleads
"Fine," she hollered, stumbling her way up as he suddenly released her. She turned back to glare at the man, who stared back at her with an innocent look on his face.
"For now," she added, much to his disappointment.
"I'm sorry, kitty, but if ya hurt someone, the cuffs are coming back on," he warned, shaking said restraints in the air
âSo mind your Pâs and Qâs darlinâ
"And the sea stone?" she questions
"Sorry, that stays kitty. Like I said, you have already sent a couple of my brothers to the clinic with scratches without the seastone, so we can't risk letting your Claws out."
She let out a grumble but left it at that, glancing at the counter.
Thatch notices her stare, and he grins as he realizes what she had set her sights on
"So ya did like the soup!" he grinned.
"Shut up, don't let it get to your head. I just haven't had a decent meal in a while," she snapped as she climbed back to the stool and resumed eating.
"Don't worry about thaâ." he smiles, leaning against his hand and watching her gulp the soup down.
"We will keep you well fed here, even if only until our next stop; you will not go hungry."
She paused her eating to look at him, mouth agape, only to shake it moments later and continue her previous task.
"Thank you."
"Na problem, Kitty."
"Stop calling me that."
"Awe come on!"
What we thinking? When I was writing this it gave me the idea that maybe I could do a chapter for each member, thoughts?
Taglist:
@Imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
@acpola01
#oc x thatch#thatch#reader x thatch#thatch x reader#thatch one piece#oc x whitebeard pirates#whitebeard pirates x oc#whitebeard pirates#whitebeard pirates x reader#whitebeard crew#whitebeard one piece
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love and other catastrophes at the Omega Cafe (4.2/8)
Aaaaand here's part 2 đ đ đ
Summary: Steve is a runaway Omega who gets a job at an Omega cafĂ©, where heâs basically paid to curl up and purr in Alphasâ laps. Itâs legal, and he earns a living, rents his own place. Heâs getting along fine for a packless Omega. Then Alpha rockstar Eddie Munson turns up for an hour of âkittyâ petting, and shatters Steveâs fragile little worldâŠ
Rating: E; No major warnings; Tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, a/b/o dynamics, fluff and angst, sexual content đ
Chapter 1 on tumblr (also index post) Chapter 2 on tumblr Chapter 3.1 Chapter 3.2 Chapter 4.1
đââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹ
Chapter 4.2
Chrissy watched Eddie like a hawk as he approached the chais-longue, andâŠ
âŠdropped to one knee in front of it.
Steveâs jaw dropped.
âSteve,â said Eddie. âIâm sorry. It seems thereâs a lot you donât know about me. Did I tell you that impulse-control wasnât my strength?"
âI think itâs better than mine,â mumbled Steve, dipping his gaze. Eddieâs sweetness and sincerity was as crushing as anything. Especially as this was undoubtedly, a âIâm off, have a nice life, Omega,â kind of speech. âIâm really sorry. I made a complete moron of myself.â
âNo, you didnât.â Eddieâs hand hovered over Steveâs, which rested, still trembling, on his knee. At the spark of near contact, Steve looked up sharply. âMay I?â asked Eddie.
âUh, yeah?â
Eddie took Steveâs hand properly in his large, warm, wet one, setting Steveâs senses reeling giddily.
âSteve, I had no idea my music would trigger you like⊠that. I ran, becauseâŠâ He shook his head, scattering a fresh spray of raindrops into Steve, who shuddered. âLook, I am used to taking what I want, when I want. Itâs not a great way to go about life. Iâve been working on that, I swear. Tonight, I⊠ahem, I guess, you tempted me a little too far, Honey. I almost took something I shouldnât have.â
âI guess.â Eddieâs damp thumb chafed his hand, and Steve struggled not to cry. Eddie had come to the cafĂ© for relaxation, not sex. Steve had proven himself a wanton little hussy, one that didnât even know what he was doing. Clearly Eddie had figured that out, and now this was over. His brain was so busy catastrophising, it took a moment for it to process what Eddie was actually saying:
âSteve, Iâve never felt a pull to an Omega like Iâve felt toward you. You deserve to be courted properly.â
Steveâs chin snapped up: âSay what?â
âI would like to court you, Steve.â Eddieâs gaze captured Steveâs and held it. âIs that something you would consider?â
âYes⊠yes! Iâd like that very much.â
OMG OMG OMG!
Steve whiplashed from misery to undiluted joy. If he hadnât been so stunned, he wouldâve unleashed the highest, most excited squeal of his life. Chrissy, however, was doing that job for himâ transformed from killer-kitty to a bundle of bouncing, jingling excitement.
Steve blinked hard. Okay, reality check. He dabbed beneath his eyes, because his mascara must be wrecked: âAre you on the level? You donât know anything about me.â
âYou know nothing about me.â Eddie chuckled gently. âItâs one of the many things I adore about you.â
ADORE! HE ADORES ME! OMG HE IS LITERALLY TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!
âIâm a runaway,â blurted out Steve. He felt he needed to share something, to at least prod at the barriers remaining between then.
âStevie, everyone has a history. You need to know mine soon enough, and then you can tell me everything when youâre readyâin your own time.â
âYou know that⊠um, Iâm⊠m-maybe not as innocent as you think,â he stammered.
âI wouldnât give a damn either way, my darling.â
With that Eddie planted a tender kiss on the back of Steveâs hand, and Steve finally squealed with pure happiness. If Chrissy hadnât been there, he would probably have thrown himself at Eddie and begged to be mated, there and then.
Instead, he tumbled forward into a relatively chaste hug, while Chrissy looked on, giggling and clenching her fists in excitement.
When she finally scooted off, Steve snuggled up in Eddieâs lap. He buried his face in the crook of Eddieâs neck, finally breathing deeply of Eddieâs scent without pain. Steve was so calm now, so relaxedâunbelievably so, given how revved heâd been earlier. It was like a dream, one he still hardly believed was real. The heat rolling from Eddie seemed to set any dampness remaining on his clothes and skin sizzling. He rocked Steve and soothed him, and then, too soon, he husked in Steveâs ear:
âIâm gonna call two Ubers, Baby. One to take me home for a cold shower, and another one for you. Iâll hit you up with ideas for our first date. Sound good?â
âSounds perfect.â Short of clinging to Eddieâs lap like a kitty with its claws in. Eddie passed Steve his phone, and Steve fumbled his number in. âIâm uh, off tomorrow⊠afternoon⊠evening⊠literally whenever.â
Steve would blow off any shift to be courted by Eddie. They shared a dopey grin, till Eddieâs melted into a slight grimace. He reached behind himself and plucked Steveâs kitty ears from between the cushions. âI wondered what that was digging into my butt.â
He slid them back onto Steveâs hair then rose, stooping to kiss the tip of Steveâs nose before he left. Steve waited till the door closed softly to kick his bare feet madly and press his knuckles to his lips to smother his most excited squeal yet.
On the journey home, the driver bitched that Steve was stinking out his vehicle. Then stopped bitching abruptly, and thanked Steve for the generous tip, which mustâve come through from Eddieâs Uber account.
Steve fizzed with excitement even at that. Maybe Eddieâs driver had complained too! It was out of this world! How could anybody provoke such a strong reaction in him? Heâd not even skipped any blockers! The whisper from the depths of his soul excited and scared him in equal measures.
Itâs because heâs your soulmate⊠Woah, Harrington, seriously? Even if he deigned to mate you, itâs not like he can marry youâŠ
Steve was too excited to listen to the demons. Before heâd got home, Eddie texted suggesting a meal at his place the following night. His uncle would be there, and he suggested Steve brought a âfriend/chaperone.â
He burst through his front door and instantly called Robin. He told her everything in a garbled rush.
Including exactly who Eddie was.
When he finally shut up, her silence deafened. âRobin? Did I bore you to death or have you ODd over there?â
âDonât move!â she screamed, setting him yelping. âIâm coming over. Now. Donât⊠just DONâT!â
âDonât what, Robin? Iâ"
She hung up. Ooookay. That was weird. What was he not supposed to do? He was reluctant to shower, but he fitted in a quick one, because sheâd given him the jitters. He was towel drying his hair, when she let herself in. She rushed over, braced his shoulders and shook him.
âSteve! Do you know anything about Eddie Munson? Anything at all?â
âI know heâs a rockstar. Carol mentioned something about him being a âbad-boyâ but thatâs part of the gig. Um, Robin⊠youâre hurting me.â
âShit, sorry.â She lessened her bruising grip, steering Steve over and sitting him down on his bed. âSteve, you need to listen. Eddie Munson is more than a âbad-boy.â Heâs in and out of rehab like a yoyo. His last stint was, like, a month ago. They managed to keep it relatively hush-hush, but itâs an open secret if you look on social media. Even if heâs no longer off-his-head on cocaine, or whatever nasty shit, he apparently drinks like a fish andââ
âSssstop it!â Steve hissed, shaking himself free from her lingering clutch. âHe drinks coffee, Robin.â
âSo do we all! Especially after a night out boozing! Seriously, Steve?â Spotting the angry tears in his eyes, she softened her tone and sat down beside him: âListen, Eddie Munson gets through sexual partners like you get through double espressos. Rumour has it that his latest rehab stint was for sex addiction.â
He let that little bombshell percolate through him.
She squeezed his knee. âIâm not sure you should go tomorrow.â
âOh, Iâm going!â He slammed her with a glare, lip hitching slightly. Truth was, he heard her. He didnât care: âI want you to come with me tomorrow. Listen, heâs renting a place in the swishest part of the Alpha quarter. I know how you mainline all those âUltra-Alpha my Padâ property showsâthatâs your addiction, huh?â
She crinkled her nose. âYouâre really dead set on this? Ugh, I suppose at least youâre not lying to me this time!â
âIâm sorry about that. All I know is how he makes me feel. Tonight, I practically threw myself at him! I was out of control. He couldâve done what he pleased with me, taken whatever he wanted. Instead, he asked if he could court me. Why should I believe all that crap about him, when heâs been nothing other than a perfect gentleman?â
âUuuuuugh!â She pulled him into a hug, which set his heart glowing. His mind raced ahead to some dream future where Eddie and Robin were besties, the stars aligned, and the whole world was as one.
A world where when Eddie whispered the word âhome,â it referred to a nest.
Steveâs nest. Their nest.
The anxious grit in her tone threw him, ever-so-slightly: âJust this once, Dingus. I donât care if heâs a rockstar Alpha or Prince fucking Charming. If he hurts you in any way, if he makes you sick⊠Iâm literally gonna rip his throat out.â
đââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹđââŹ
Chapter 5.1 on tumblrđ If you enjoyed, every little like and reblog or comment means a lot to me so thank youđ
Chapter 5 on AO3
I am always happy to tag, pls let me know, or you can follow the tag #steddie omega cat cafe đ
tags đđââŹđ @disrespectedgoatman đ @bumblebeecuttlefishes
@katethetank đ @themoonagainstmers đ @chaotic-waffle đ
đđđđđđđđđ
#omega steve harrington#alpha eddie munson#omegaverse steddie#steddie omegaverse#steddie omega cat cafe#rock star eddie munson#steddie au#steddie fluff#steddie#steddie fic
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sighs of sleep
pairing - gepard x gn!reader (they/them)
genre - fluff
summary - a hallucination of your sleep-deprived brain keeps you awake late at night, so you visit your roommate across the hall to ask to sleep in his room.
cw! - fluff, mentions of stalking (not by gepard or reader), comfort, overly kind/doormat!reader, pining (mostly from gepard), shy!gepard, overthinking!gepard, hugging while sleeping in the same bed, swearing, gepard has a lil crush on reader <3, gepard and reader are roommates
i wrote this entire thing at like 1 in the morning so apologies for any mistakes...
kinda based on a dream of mine where I saw this white face in my window and it freaked be out so ig this is self-indulgence (again lmao)
i love this art so much đđ geppie's so sweet. art credit!!
playlist : after dark (mr kitty), neglect (mr kitty), the beach (instrumental, slowed, and reverb) (the neighbourhood)
As always, thank you for reading :)
++++
It was dark in your room.
Nightfall had come several hours before, but when you leaned back in your chair and looked over at the small icon at the bottom-right of the laptop in front of you, you were surprised to read '2:26 AM' in white lettering. You didn't think that you've been working for so long, and yet, somehow, time passed much quicker than you anticipated.
You didn't plan on pulling an all-nighter - in fact, you initially wanted to watch a movie in your pajamas, maybe with a snack or something to drink, and then go to sleep at what would be considered a reasonable hour for Fridays. And then, after you slept, you would awake feeling perfectly rested, and maybe sleep in for a change. But noooo, apparently that was asking too much, because some annoying coworkers decided to call you last-minute at 1 in the morning to ask you to fill out some documents.
You were kind and helpful, and not wanting to disappoint, you did what they asked of you. Voila! Here you were - finished, emails sent, eyes riddled with exhaustion, hands aching, brain desperately wanting to sleep.
You stood up from your seat with a sigh, and languidly lumbered over to your bed. You didn't bother to put on pajamas when you undressed - you were way too tired for that. As you looked over to the window opposite your bed, however-
You saw something, peeking underneath the half-closed blinds.
In your now-fleeting memory of it, it seemed to be a ghostly, white, featureless face that briefly appeared and disappeared when you looked over to the window, and you were still naked.
Was this a stalker? Some creepy person that magically climbed up to the second-story window to look at your bare form?
Your shivered at the thought, and immediately grabbed the shirt that your were wearing. You shoved it on, pulling down slightly on its hem to help cover your body, and ran towards the blinds to lower them, just in case this face was an actual person and not just a hallucination provided by your sleepless brain.
Even when you lowered the blinds, however, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. You didn't have any cameras in your room, and your roommate wasn't the type of person to install them without your request to do so.
You finally decided that you wanted to sleep, and trying your utmost best to forget this event, you crawled into your bed and turned off the lights.
But your stubborn, sleep-deprived brain was a cruel mistress, and to your anguish, kept conjuring up the blank face's image in the darkness. You adjusted your sleeping position over and over, praying to whatever god that would listen to finally grant you rest... to no avail. You remained awake and restless, and when you finally had enough of your brain's shenanigans, you turned on the lights. You hastily tossed on a pair of sleep shorts, and with a sort of fright mixed with vigor, opened the door to the hallway of your shared dorm.
You could still see a faint yellow light underneath the door across from you, and thanking nobody in particular that he was still awake and that you didn't have to wake him, you knocked three times on his door.
Frantic shuffling from inside the room ensued, and you could hear a couple books falling to the floor before your roommate opened the door.
"Why aren't you asleep yet?" he asked with obvious concern in his voice. His pale blue tank top stretched a little as he put his hands on his hips. "You scared me."
"I was about to go to bed, and then, when I was changing, I saw a white face in the window, and I tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but then I couldn't because I felt like it was still watching me, and..." you trailed off, and tilted your head downwards. "I'm sorry for ranting, Gepard."
"Oh, no, don't worry about it," he smiled gently, eyes half-lidded from a similar lack of sleep. "I think it's just your head making stuff up. If that doesn't reassure you enough to make you fall asleep, well, I don't really know what to say. Sorry."
You looked up at him, meeting his deep blue eyes. "Can I sleep with you tonight, then?"
A pause ensued as Gepard processed what you just said.
"...what?" he squeaked. His cheeks turned a bright red as he gaped at you.
"Wait! No! That's not what I meant, I promise!" you corrected, also turning red. "I meant sleep in the same room. You know, like a sleepover or something, but without the "staying up late" part, because we're already... up late... You know what? Nevermind. I'm sorry for interrupting whatever you were doing, and I'll just sleep on the couch downstairs. I'll bring some blankets and I should be just fine-"
"You can stay if you want to."
You looked over at Gepard (who was still as red as a cherry, and avoiding eye contact), wide-eyed as you took in what he said. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, the couch isn't that comfortable. You'll probably regret sleeping at all if you doze off there, and I don't mind you staying in my room anyways," he reassured. "Can you go grab blankets and stuff from your room? I'll clean up the place because I knocked over some books earlier, so..."
"Oh, um, sure," you blinked. "Thank you." You were sure that he would send you back after what you said.
You ran to your room and grabbed a pillow and blanket, but when you ransacked your drawers and closet for any sort of thick blankets or mat as possible padding between you and the floor, you came out empty-handed. You were nervous to ask Gepard if he had any usable padding material - he had done so much for you already, and you were sure that he was done putting up with your antics...
Rushing back to his room to not make him wait any longer, you stood by the doorframe as you watched him put the last of his toppled books into its place on the bookshelf.
From what you could see, his room was a tad minimalistic. Paintings of snowy sunsets and mountains decorated the white walls, and a multitude of potted plants (some of which were almost withered) were spread throughout his room, peeking from the top of his bookshelf, standing in front of his window, and some larger ones sitting on the floor. His bed was rather large, and it lay at the top right corner of the room, if you assumed that the door was in the middle of the bottom wall. His desk was across from his bed, to the right of the door, and his bookshelf, which stood in the middle of the left wall, housed an array of multicolored spines of books. His window, thankfully, was closed.
"You can come in, you know," he called as he turned his head to you.
"Thank you," you muttered, stepping inside his room. "Where should I put my stuff?"
He walked over to the center of the room, where you were standing awkwardly. He looked over the items in your hands.
"You don't have anything as padding? We have wooden floors."
"Yeah, I know," you said with a sigh. "I don't have anything."
"Neither do I... I mean, I can always sleep on the floor without padding, and-"
"You're not sleeping on the floor. It's your room."
"Yeah, but you can sleep on my bed and actually have a chance of falling asleep," he said.
"But you said that you couldn't fall asleep too," you remarked. "And you're putting up with my bullshit, so you get the bed."
"How about this? We split the bed in half with pillows, and we each get half. Does that work?"
"Oh- sure."
The two of you got to work. Luckily, you both had several pillows at hand, and Gepard's bed was big enough to perform the task, so you had it done in a couple minutes. You covered yourself with your blanket as he turned off the lights, and when you settled in among the darkness, you felt him shifting in his place.
"Goodnight," you heard him whisper.
"'Night," you replied, pulling your blanket further up to your neck.
But a little while later, your blanket stopped helping against the cold of his room. You didn't notice it before, but now, it was getting pretty chilly, and you couldn't help but lean closer to the row of pillows separating you two, subconsciously seeking warmth. Your thoughts were hazy, laced with sleep that was finally washing over you, but that little itch of cold was getting annoying. So you did the only thing that would have the smallest chance of waking him up and still receiving the warmth you needed - you came closer and closer to the pillow wall, until your hands finally felt his broad back through one of the thinner pillows.
To a very-much-still-awake Gepard's surprise, he felt your fingertips press against his back through a pillow. He thought that you were dreaming, that your brain was perceiving the pillows as a stuffed animal that you were "petting", but when your hands snaked around his torso, he realized that he was probably the stuffed animal (at least in your dreams). You were now hugging him.
If he was being honest with himself, he would probably describe his current feelings in one word: conflicting.
On one hand, he wanted to push your arms away. You were dreaming, that's it, and you needed something to hug. You needed to hug a pillow, not him - he wasn't at all like a pillow, he wasn't soft or light, he was, in his mind, a walking stone, hard and cold. He could give no comfort to you.
On another hand (the hand that Gepard deemed more selfish), he was rather comfortable like this. This felt right, for really no particular reason. A voice in the back of his head told him to do the same, to wrap his arms around you and protect you from anything and everything that ailed you. It whispered sweetness into his ear, vowing that you won't remember it when you wake up anyways, that this was his chance to face his feelings and act on them.
Sure, he's had a crush on you ever since you moved in together, but that doesn't excuse hugging you back when you were this close, right? But what would happen if he hugged you back, and you somehow remembered? What if you weren't sleeping at all and this was your way of flirting?
Y/N wasn't flirting, he thought. Definitely not with me. They wouldn't. They probably don't like me anyway.
Oh, but how he wanted to not overthink the situation and just do it already. This was his chance! What if you did like him back? What if you were flirting with him? A hug couldn't really ruin a 6-month-old friendship, could it?
He sighed as quietly as possible. He was going to do it. He was going to hug you, and he was going to roll the dice of Fate. Either you won't care, or you would lean into his arms, or you would push him away when you wake up. You were kind, merciful - would you really kick him out of the apartment because of a hug?
He stiffly turned around to face you, and got a full view of your serene, closed eyes. You were so pretty like this, he almost couldn't bear it.
Steeling himself, he screwed his eyes shut and reached his arms out to your form, wrapping them around your waist, supporting your back with his large hands. To his relief, you didn't show any signs of resistance - instead, you tilted your head closer to his, resting it against his collarbone as you let out a short, low hum.
Holy shit. Holy shit.
You were so warm, so soft, so fucking beautiful to him. He felt an overwhelming sense of immense joy and relief flood his system at your actions and couldn't help but brush away a stray lock of hair from your perfect, ethereal countenance, taking care to not disturb your sleep in any way. Small breaths escaped your oh-so-kissable lips like fleeting whispers of song, tickling his neck and shoulder lightly, and his heart beat faster and faster until it almost hurt from how close you were to him.
He couldn't believe that this was actually happening.
Your own heartbeat slowed as you fully fell asleep, content in his warm embrace, but Gepard's was still racing. He wanted to stay awake for as long as possible, to savor this moment of closeness for what could very well be the last time, but his eyes betrayed him - they were closing all on their own, and the last thing that he remembered before he fell asleep was the way that your chest rose and fell in time with your quiet sighs of sleep.
#gepard#honkai star rail#star rail#gepard landau#gepard fluff#gepard hsr#hsr#gepard star rail#gepard fanfic#fanfic#gepard x reader#gepard x y/n#gepard x you#hsr x you#hsr x reader#hsr x y/n#he's so cute i literally can't#gepard comfort#love him <33
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âïž RAIAN FEVER TODAY âïž
My Answers âŁïž :
1- If you were in Raian's universe, will you accept him as he is ? The murdere , the Assassin ...
Hard at the beginning, but I will grow a thicker skin if he only assassins bad people. Otherwise, it's a huge pill I might not even be able to swallow. Also, if he likes animals, it might be a bit easier to accept his job.
2- Continue dating him after what he's done to Alan ?
YES ... but it will take me a while to accept what I saw him doing, and i might not be relaxed for a while when he's around me. If I distant myself from him, he will go and never come back because he'll think I don't support him. However, I DOOOo support him, especially with these worms. But the mere fact that he torn a full-grown human ass apart will not settle well with me at the beginning . Speaking about it might be a good idea, but I can't show Raian my discomfort, as to him, it means weakness, and he hates mentally or physically weak people. My my discomfort might have, however, show unintentionally when he touches me or makes a sudden move on me. I can't help it, I am not a kure , my brain functions differently.
3- Will you support his mission to destroy the Worm and accept that he might never come back ?
I support his mission đŻ... If He might never come back, I will probably disappear as well. In the alternate universe, Raian will be the air I breathe, so him not around ever again means no point for me to live , so i will go search for him in hell and live with my king for eternity .( too dramatic, I know đ€Ł )
4- Will you be able to handle his rough handling and obsession over his power ?
Me personally, i am obsessed over his power and i brag about it whenever i get a chance, but with me, I might have to keep reminding him gently every now and then that I am breakable and I would need little TLC every now and then, specially that time of the month, he however, will do whatever he pleases until i show some physical discomfort, then he snuggles with me like a kitty, I SWEAR HE PURRRSSSSS.
5- If you were transported to Kengan universe, how would you seek his attention ?
Looooool .. I have no Fuckin idea .... he likes strong women physically and mentally. I will surely be a mantal challenge for him. It's not hard to be chased by men if you play the right cards, but with the Kure Devil, I better be quick-witted and challangbleonce once the bait gets hooked he will claim me. AND I WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN. Am just worried about the aftermath â ïžâ ïž
6- In Kengan univers, how would you want to look like ? Describe yourself ( looks, figure, hair, strength, height, weight , foreign or Japanese , job.. what will your unique feature be ? SET YOUR IMAGINATION FREE
It's not so much different from how I look in reality. I am 162cm and 50kgs . umm, maybe longer hair , like a long breeded dark black hair. I would probably want to look like a human cute but sexy cat đđđ Meow. Though, I know he would be attracted to a unique beauty with a twisted yet mysterious personality that I can be, but Raian , likes his woman big and strong, so I might not stand a chance if ever ...
8- How you met ?
7- Imagine your first kiss / Sex .. ! It's NOT traditional ...!!!
First Kiss : forced, pushed, and messy but will deepen when I gradually lose my grip.
Sex : he won't be an asshole but he will manhandle me , and I think I will get attached after that. It won't be easy at first to adjust to his black sharp eyes paralyzing my body and soul or the positions he will force my body into that would make me very vulnerable and hopeless and SCARED but I will get attentive when he slows down a bit and relaxes.
I WANT TO READ ALL YOUR WILD IMAGINATION YOU HAVE ABOUT THIS MAN ...
At Fusui's apartment. Visiting, I saw a huge body laying on the couch semi naked face down . I mean, I could surf full board on that broad back ... Fusui gestured not to make a sound, but his presence tickled me so I purposely spoke loud, he Turned and his eyes looking at was enough to sent me into her room in a blink of an eye shutting close and wasn't sure if my mind captured the picture of his angry face correctly or I literally saw a real devil in my bestie's living room ..?!!!!!!
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Disclaimer: My blog is a safe place for your imaginative mind. We all are wild for this man, and it's perfectly fine to have a comfort character. Don't be shy to go absolutely wild ... đ đ¶ đ đ€Ș
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the day after yesterday: chapter one
Summary: Time travel is volatile, dangerous, playing god. And then sometimes it drops you in just the right place at the perfect time. Itâs a matter of perspective. You decide.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no Y/N)
Word Count: 3k
series masterlist || masterlist
Warnings: Nausea, fainting, 40s Bucky
A/N: So this is the fic iâve been meaning to give you for a while now and I canât wait to see what you all think. Thank you all so much for waiting much longer than I expected (And let me know if you want to be added to a taglist)
âI shouldâve asked you if this was safe, huh?â
âListen, just keep communications open and Iâll guide you through it, it's a piece of cake, really.â The glass wall between yourself and a smiling Scott Lang did little to reinforce his encouragement.
âI heard you turned into a baby-â
âThat- that was a test run.â His voice nervously crackles through the speaker.
âYou turned into a baby?â Hope Van Dyne returns with coffees for the pair.
âI will not tell you about that later.â
Failing to shake out the tension in your muscles, you conclude that it's not tension at all but just stupid fear trying to freeze your body into place. Fear was never really a warning to you, though, more of an inconvenience to actually living an exciting life. All of the research you had done to get here, the words that flooded through your brain, underlined in red, were thrown out of the window, torn to shreds and blown up with an atom bomb.
This was diving in at the deep end, to the fullest extent. Who needed particle physics now?
Scott presses down the button for the microphone one last time âReady?â
âPiece of cake.â You give him the least confident thumbs-up known to man.
âLaunching in 3, 2, 1-â
Time travel isnât as fun as it looks in the movies, turns out. Itâs nausea-fueled, jumping out of a plane and falling upwards, sideways and inside out. Having time to process you were actually small enough to pass through atoms is out of the question, you need to focus. What were the directions he gave you again? Was it two lefts then a right, or three?
âScott?â You speak into your wrist. âWhich way am I going?â
âItâs uh- hang on, Hope-â Something is starting to go wrong, his voice begins to fizzle and snap in your ear, only able to catch âfiftyâ and âcake!â
âI didnât get that, Scott?â
Only a distant crackle replies.
âScott! This isnât funny!â
Silence.
âLang!â
The twisted vortex is blasting past you at a million miles a second and zero sense of navigation is precisely what you donât need.
âShit, shit, shit.â
Plan A wasnât happening and plans B through Z didnât exist, a consequence of combined idiocy and confidence. So, itâs time for plan âI don't know what the shit Iâm going to do.â You screw your eyes shut, throw yourself into the next tunnel, and pray to anyone that could possibly hear you that the fabric of space and time could handle a singular little tear.
Well, thatâs the hope.
No one tells you how much a crash landing actually sucks, one minute youâre upside down and weightless and the next, youâre face down in someone's discarded trash and aching all over, feeling like you've just been flung off the empire state. As your suit disappears in favour of casual clothes, the groan that emerges from the depths of your throat sounds like some mangled stray because as soon as you make a sound:
âHey, is there a cat in there?â
You go still, not only did you not want to be seen so time could resume its uninterrupted passing but to be found in a dumpster? Thatâs just embarrassing.
âHere kitty, kittyâŠâ The sound of a grown man making âpspspsâ noises makes you cringe a little, being mistaken for a scavenging cat is as demeaning as you might imagine and half of you wants to burst out and give the man the fright of his life and stern talking to. But sense kept you still.
After a bout of silence, you assume the stranger has passed on with better things to worry about than a âcatâ in a dumpster. Crouching in your mess, you fish out the useless earpiece and glare, as if the sheer force of irritation might magically make it work properly.
âStupid little government issued-â
âHey-Whoâs in there?â
You freeze again, bracing your hands against the sides of the dumpster for balance.
âIâm not going to hurt you, câmon⊠Iâm in the forces you can trust me.â
âConvincing.â You scoff before clapping your hand over your mouth a bit too violently and losing the footing you had before.
You yelp as you land on your back, staring helplessly at the sky from the dumpster, the sun beaming in your eyes. Miraculously, shade appears over you in the form of a smiling face.
âYouâre not a cat.â He pulls himself up a little further âYou alright?â
The sudden concern makes you want to laugh, but a wave of time travel related nausea stops you.
âIâm fantastic, thanks.â You groan sarcastically.
âWhat are you doing in-â
âWhat year is this?â You ask quickly, rubbing your eyes as the dizziness starts to fade.
âWhat year?â He asks, baffled, after a pause, he answers â...Itâs 1943. Mustâve hit your head real hard to forget that.â
âWhat.â That had woken you up. Fumbling, you grabbed onto the side of the dumpster and pulled yourself up âNo, that can't be right I didnât-â
Then you saw his face.
âI fucked up.â
Inches from your face, staring back at you was The Winter Soldier.
Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Right there in front of you. But, different, younger, you couldâve sworn there was a literal fucking twinkle in his eye. After a short pause, he draws his face back from your stunned expression in amused confusion and lands back down on the ground.
âYou gonna get out now?â
It was a strange sensation, meeting someone you knew in the future, in the past. Well, you didn't really know him, more like you once stood in the same room. All the same, it was disorientating and your re-emerging headache wasn't helping.
Stuck, you search your brain for a way out, but you were cornered, literally âIâm gonnaâŠâ
âLook, just get out so you can sort out whatever crisis I assume youâre havingâ He offers up his hand and you can do nothing but stare at his flesh that wasnât metal yet. A thousand possibilities ran through your head of what could happen if you took his hand, most of them ending with the space-time continuum collapsing. But, something was telling you it was just a hand, what harm could it do?
Tapping against the metal, he startles you into sliding your hand into his and you climb over the side, almost falling over again if it wasn't for the hesitant hand on your waist that disappears as quickly as it touched you.
The pre-war-hero looks at you, up and down. âMa said it was gonna be a strange day.â He mumbles under his breath and sighs âAlways right.â
âIâm gonna go-â You don't want to screw up any more events of the timeline so you go to make a break for it but he's a quick hand, grabbing you by the forearm.
You winced out of instinct, he was still a super soldier to you, with ninety years of breaking skulls behind him. You hated thinking about it but it was hard to see him as something else. Something before.
His brows furrow at your reaction. âMâam, do you need a hospital?â
âNo!â You exclaim that would lead to even more consequences, records where there shouldn't be âNo. No hospitalsâ You shook your head, âIâm fine anyway!â
You forced a smile and he doesn't look impressed.
âYou didn't know what year it was.â
âA momentary lapse!â
âLook, I won't take you to a hospital, okay? But for my own peace of mind let me take you to my ma and sheâll check you over, and then you can call someoneâ
âOh no, no I canât,â Heâs still not letting you go. âReally itâs, Iâm-â The dizziness comes back like a tidal wave, you hope the ground isnât as hard as it looks.
âIâm not taking no for an answer, sweetheart, just- â
"Don't call me sweetheart-" Your eyes roll back and everything goes black.
The Barnes you knew of, in the present day, wouldnât call you sweetheart, he wouldnât call you anything. You were just the new girl, the scholar in the crowd of avengers and agents, severely under qualified to be there, your âmy name isâ sticker might as well say âsore thumbâ.
Scott Lang was the reason you were even allowed here, one email from him about putting the words from your papers into practice for the greater good and you were on your way. It was all a part of this new initiative in the post-blip world, ventures into time travel and what it could do for a planet that was desperately trying to piece itself back together.
It turns out, Scott had made a pretty strong case for you to be here in this room, something about giving ordinary people chances to help out. âOrdinaryâ felt a little insulting, you had published papers on quantum mechanics, on particle theory, and Tony Stark once listened to you at a party for a good thirty seconds. But you werenât genetically enhanced or a super spy,
and therefore classified as âordinaryâ.
And a sudden altruistic reference from one Captain Steve Rogers meant they basically had no choice but to choose you.
Scott was busy prepping you on his âVery Important Rules of Time Travelâ when you saw Sergeant Barnes for the first time. You looked up, past the blackboard Scott had insisted on having and saw him there, across the military-owned aeroplane hangar that had been loaned for âavenger activitiesâ. He was carrying a duffel, dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket, hands in his pockets, despite everyone in the room already knowing about his arm.
You had sworn he hadnât seen you there but then you recall noticing his steps slightly stuttering as he glanced in your direction, Sam tugging him away before he could inspect further. It was a meaningless moment, so why was your brain nagging at you to think again?
â-Bringing home strays and you expect me to pick up after you!â
âShe fainted! In my arms! I couldnât just leave her there, she said no hospitals!â
âJames Buchanan-â
âMa, not the full name, please.â
There's a heavy sigh and the room shifts.
âYou did the right thing.â
âThank y-â
âBut Iâm not happy about it. You said you were going to the recruitment station.â
âI will, I just got sidetracked.â
âJames-â
âI promise. This afternoon.â
âYou better.â
You opened your eyes cautiously to find yourself lying on somebody's couch, the smell of home cooking greeting you kindly, your guard was reluctantly falling down as the blanket covering you slipped. Shifting and sitting up slowly, your senses whisper softly that there was no need for alarm, but then you remember whoâs home this is.
If Scott ever finds out you managed to wind up in The Winter Soldierâs family home, he was probably going to strangle you, well, Scott wouldnât but Hope definitely would. All you had to do was slip out of the back door and not touch anything-
âYouâre awake.â
Bucky Barnes stands there in the doorway, a glass of water in his hands. You froze, watching as he placed it on the coffee table.
Itâs a standoff, heâs scared youâll bolt like a skittish horse if he makes the wrong move and youâre practically terrified of the implications of all of this. He speaks first.
âHowâs your head?â
You hesitate, debating whether you could slip past him and make this all a funny anecdote.
âReally gave me a scare, yâknow? I can make a dame swoon but that wasâŠâ
The lightness in his voice as he eases the tension down to a simmer makes you think twice for a second. If you could just lie your way out of this maybe it wouldnât be quite so universe-ending.
â...Sorry I shouldnât be joking. Are you feeling better?â
âYeah I am, thanksâ
âYouâre welcome, howâd you end up in a dumpster anyways?â
âOh, I wasâŠâ Okay, first lie â...looking for somethingâ
That wasn't that bad. Maybe a couple more details â...my necklaceâ
âWhyâd you hide then, sure I coulda helped-â
â-You said you were in the forces.â
Heâs caught off guard. âI, uh, will be. Was on my way to enlist when I heard you.â
âSo, youâre not?â
He shakes his head âNot yet, but-â
Shit. Bucky Barnes was supposed to be in the army, he was Sergeant James Barnes. If there was any chance you had stopped him from becoming who he was supposed to be then-
â-you didnât tell me your name actually, what is it?â
âCan I use your bathroomâŠplease?â
âSure, it's down the hall, on the left.â
You stood slowly, time-hurtling nausea had now been replaced by a sick sense of impending doom, and you werenât sure which one felt worse. This day was really shaping up to beâŠsomething.
The lock slides and you have to stop yourself from screaming, reasoning with a heavy sigh that leaves you feeling no better. God, you look a mess, your reflection staring back at you in resentment and dumpster chic. Splashing your face with water and rubbing at the dirt staining your cheek, the next move forming in your head.
Number one, get out of here so you donât cause any more disturbances, number two use your spare Pym particles to find a way home-
And, once again, shit. You tapped your back pocket, where you had kept them safe and they werenât there. You frantically checked all of your pockets, in your shoes, had it rolled under the sink? Nope. That meant they had fallen out somewhere, probably when you landed in that dumpster.
If some raccoon had found them by now you were royally screwed. You looked to the skylight pouring light into the bathroom and debated how easy it would be to get up there. It was worth a shot. Perching yourself on the top of the toilet you reached up and flicked the latch open. It was a bit harder to open than you had expected, evidently, it wasn't used as an escape route much, but you eventually pushed it wide with a louder-than-intended groan.
The knock at the door startled you.
âYou alright in there?â
It was Bucky.
âYeah, Iâm fine!â
âYou sure?â
Pulling yourself up was proving a challenge, your safe footing was dwindling as you grasped at the edge of the window. With another heave, you got your elbows resting on the ledge but your feet were dangling in the air, one slip and you would-
The yelp you let out ends in Bucky bursting through the door to find you halfway through the window and clinging on for precious life. He had to hold back his laughter as you pedal in the air to get your footing back.
âYou know we do have a front door you are more than welcome to use.â
âI thought I locked the door. â You grumble.
âYou think I canât jimmy my own locks? Here-â
Bucky grabs onto your hips, swerving to miss your feet kicking him in the face. He tugs you down and you let him in your disgruntled defeat. With your feet back on solid ground and a frown on your face, he couldnât help but smile.
âYouâre weirdâ He states âMaâs made you soup, would be rude to leave without tasting it, câmonâ He holds the door open and watches you shuffle out of the bathroom, a little embarrassed.
The kitchen is small and cluttered, recipes littered about as well as people, a younger girl, no older than 12, and one older woman, wiping her hands down her front.
âTook this from Maâs closet, Jimmy said you needed new clothesâ The young girl placed a folded dress in your hands.
âNo, I didnât say that-â
âWhat's wrong with my clothes?â
â-I said her clothes were a bitâŠunkemptâ
âUnkempt?â
âUnkempt? You said dirty. Youâve never said unkempt in your whole lifeâ
âBecca. Shut up. And stop calling me Jimmy in front of peopleâ Bucky drifts past his sister, leaving a kiss on the top of her head.
The Barnes household was far more chaotic than you had anticipated, to know that a man like Bucky Barnes comes from a place of such care and comfort, his hands for holding and helping before they were bound to kill.
You stare a little too long, the dress hanging from your hands, forgotten at that moment.
âYou gonna sit or?â
Heâs looking at you curiously, unaware of the conflict behind your eyes.
So you sit. The bowl in front of you is steaming, the smell too gorgeous to resist and the hopeful look in his motherâs eyes is a real heart twister. It tastes delicious, it's like nothing youâve had before.
âWhat is this?â
âItâs soup.â Bucky shrugs next to you.
âCiorbÄ rÄdÄuÈeanÄâ His mother corrects him âItâll make you feel better.â
And sheâs right, of course. The warmth of the soup heats your very soul, settling and giving you a sense of reassurance, maybe you werenât going to end the universe by simply being here. It was a lot for one soup to do, you suppose time travel makes you really hungry.
âIt tastes amazing.â You compliment in between spoonfuls.
Buckyâs mother mustâve given him a look because he shakes his head when she smiles.
âI like her.â She shrugs.
Thereâs not much talking as you eat, neither of you knows where to really start, and you were grateful for it. It was a headache to even try and lie right now.
Afterwards, you slip into the bathroom, with a silent promise not to try and escape again as he watches you disappear with a hint of a smirk.
Itâs a nice dress. Clearly worn many times and loved, the deep emerald color now faded to a dustier green and the skirt was a little frayed at the edges, a dark mark from where it had caught fire momentarily years ago, it was a dress that had lived. At least it would help you fit in.
Emerging after a final check, you faintly hear a new voice in the kitchen. You hesitate, the fewer people you interact with the better. Sure, it was nice to pretend you were safe for a couple of moments but now you just wanted to get back home as unscathed as possible.
âYouâre not escaping again are you?â Bucky calls out.
â...Noâ
Okay, deep breaths, just make it a polite hello and a swift exit-
âHoly fucking shit.â
next chapter
#Bucky Barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers#bucky x y/n#bucky x Female Reader#marvel imagine#bucky barnes imagine#Clara writes
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Pastry, cats, and break up songs. Chapter 1: I knew you were trouble
Oops! I Said Yes?! AU
Summary: As you are closer to finish your degree in food engineering, you decide to start working part-time at "Takeru's moving castle" - a small but very loved pastry shop that is placed right in front of the "Snowdrop" veterinary clinic and "Snowdrop" pet shop. Who could have guessed that on your first day as a cashier you would piss off one of the regulars? You had no idea why, no one had any idea why, and it wasn't in his style. But you accidentally get tangled in his life and he in yours. Or was it from even before? He helps you, you help him. And in between, you eat pastry, save cats, and scream break-up songs every now and then.
Content warning for this chapter: Brief mention of an injured cat, but no detailed description. The cat is okay. I promise.
Author's notes: So⊠It's been more than a year since I mentioned my first multi-chapter Voltage Inc AU. I'm sorry for taking so long to publish this. However, I'm back in the fandom! You have to thank Meguro Chigaya for this. I hope you'll welcome me back and I'll try to post more about Voltage Inc. Anyway, as you see in the title, the fic is called "Pastry, cats, and break-up songs" and, because of this, some of the chapters will have names from break-up songs. This one is named after "I knew you were trouble" by Taylor Swift. Also, this chapter contains mild description of an injured cat, but nothing serious. The kitty is fine. All the cats in this fic will be fine. But some of the characters work in a vet clinics, so injured animals appear every now and then. None of them have a bad injury and all of them are happy in the end. I'm not Stephen King, I promise. So, please enjoy this chapter and look forward to more. Don't hesitate to tell me your opinions. I can't wait to see if you liked it or not.
Word counting: 4476
For the past week, you got sick of cleaning tables and remembering the menu. Being behind the counter gave you a better view on the pastry, even if it was testing your will. However, as enthusiastic as you were to start a new work, you were also nervous. How would it be to have your first customer? What were the most popular pastry choices? How much were people ready to pay for these pieces of culinary art?
âI would like to have a strawberry shortcake, a piece of crepe cake with peach jam, and a castella.â
So⊠Here he was: your first customer. Black leather jacket on top of a plain white t-shirt, long eyelashes that made his sharp eyes seem like he got stuck in a teenage emo phase, a mole right under his left eye, and was it a single dimple on one of his cheeks? Oops! You had to give him his order. It didnât seem so hard. As you expected, the strawberry shortcake and the peach jam sweets were a hit. The crepe cake was so soft, you were afraid it would break down before you moved it. The jam was spilling out, making you salivate. You put it in a different box from the other two to avoid staining and destabilizing them. A little bit more and your first customer was doneâŠ
âCan you tell me from what part of Japan the peaches from the peach jam are?â
The sound of the receipt printing fainted in the air and you looked at the customer. His dark eyes were staring right at you from way before your eyes met. He crossed his hands across his chest and raised a brow.
âAt this price, I would expect them to be from Okayama,â the man stated. The sharp eyes were now looking directly at you, without tolerating any delay in answers.
âI am sorry, unfortunately I donât have any information regarding the peaches from the jam. But I can consult our chief and tell you in a bit.â
Shit⊠How could you be so incompetent? You tried to wreck your brain in search of the information the client needed. Maybe it was written someone in the papers Mr. Momose gave you. Though, you had never expected to need it.
âDonât bother yourself now. Better tell me what type of honey was used in the castella,â the client continued his interrogation.
âIt is natural acacia honey,â you said, proud to know at least this one. Kiriya told you to memorize the types of honey used as ingredients, because some people had an allergy to one type, without having to another one.
âCan it be contaminated with linden or other flowers?â
You didnât know. Could it be? At a course in your university, you learned that it was possible. But you didnât remember reading anything like this on the package. It most probably was mentioned, however, which one exactly? Was it flowers, linden, buckwheat or something else?
Upon seeing the hesitance in your answer, the client rolled his eyes and put his hands in his pockets.
âGive me my money back, Miss L/N,â he read on your tag. âI refuse to buy anything from such an incompetent worker.â
The receipt that you had in your hands fell on the counter. It was seven-thirty on a Monday morning and the guy in front of you was your first client ever in retail work. For a split second, you remembered your last online commission, the one you had to give up and return the money to the client. For the first time in months, you could visualize something in your mind. And as soon as you thought that giving up on your new job was a good idea, Kiriya patted you on the shoulder - the image disappeared and the face of the client in front of you became clear again. He had an eyebrow raised. You stepped aside to give Kiriya some space. He made you watch him attentively and remember how to give the money back. You tried your best, but your brain didnât want to cooperate.
âShow me how to do it,â Kiriya said and you understood that the client already left.
You looked at the barista in front of you. His messy bangs were falling in waves on his eyes, but it wasnât enough to cover their impatience. So, you looked from the cash machine at your colleague and back. He sighed and slowed down, showing you the order the buttons have to be pressed.
âI donât understand what you told Kiba. He is one of our regulars and itâs the first time I see him like this. Itâs probably the longest he has ever talked with any of our staff.â
You pressed the buttons in the same order as Kiriya. He told you to do it again and again. It had to be habitual by the time someone else asked you to give them their money back. However, you hoped it wouldnât be too soon.
âHe started questioning me the moment I wanted to give him the receipt,â you explained to your senior colleague. You stopped taping the buttons to look at him as he was frowning. Something wasnât adding up and you couldnât understand why you were the one to piss off one of the regulars.
âIâll stay near you when I donât have clients, to make sure you are not messing up again,â Kiriya told you. It gave you an ounce of reassurement. You knew that Kiriya wasnât there to protect you, but his presence was enough to give you courage that he could step up in case you made a mistake.
But you didnât. The next clients were as smooth as you hoped the first one to be. One old lady even complimented you, saying that it was a blessing to meet someone so pretty that early in the morning. You smiled even broader. Kiriya didnât, but he wasnât complimented, so it was okay. And soon, your working day finished.
You wanted to eat your lunch. You wanted to try some more of the pastry displayed in front of you this whole day. But there was something you needed more: to buy food for your cat at home. You asked Suzumu to do it a few times, but since you asked him, your flatmate didnât leave his house and you werenât sure if it was because he didnât want to do it, or because he was busy again with programming problems. Suzumu loved your cat, he was the one to convince you to sneak it inside and to virtuously lie to the landlord. But besides cleaning its litter every now and then, all he was doing was just to pet it and give it treats. And that traitor of the cat you had, loved him more than you.
So, you left the counter and crossed the street to enter the pet shop that was right in front of the pastry shop you were working at: Snowdrop Pet Shop. It was placed at the ground floor of a building. On the first floor was the Snowdrop Vet Clinic.
âLetâs go eat, Kuranosuke,â a voice yelled from between the aisles when you opened the door.
âI have packed lunch,â another voice that seemed familiar, answered from behind the counter.
âI know that Kasumi told you to fill in the hours for Sachi after you made her leave, but he has never told you to overwork yourself,â the aisle guy continued. You ignored their conversation and started to search for food for Sadako. It wasnât very hard - it was right near the counter. So, you picked it and went to pay for it, without even looking at the guy who made the previously mentioned âSachiâ leave. Only after you didnât hear the beep from the scanning machine did you raise your head. You opened and closed your mouth again. In front of you were dark eyes with long eyelashes that seemed out of an emo era, a mole under the left eye, straight hair perfectly parted on the side. Even in his uniform, you could recognize your first client. Damn, you werenât a vengeful person, but a plan was forming inside your head when you saw his hand going after the receipt.
âWait! I think I forgot something,â you said in the most polite voice possible. You thought that maybe he didnât sense your hesitation at first. You werenât even sure if he recognised you or not, nor did you care. It was hard to maintain a straight face as you were going towards a basket to put as many packs of cat food as you could. You took a few from each type the company the first one was from and went back to the counter. Deep breaths - not to laugh before the guy scanned all the packs. Beep, beep, beep, you lost counts, but they were more than twenty.
âDo you need something else?â the worker asked when you were taking out your wallet. You knew that you didnât have enough money to pay for everything. It was just a little more than for one pack. But you didnât need much. It was just enough.
âCan you tell me what is the difference between all these types?â you asked in the most sugar coated voice you could manage. If the old lady that called you pretty in the morning heard it, she would have probably melted into a puddle. But the man in front of you just sighed.
âThese ones, the pink ones, are for neutered male cats that are older than one year. They prevent the formation of kidney stones. Do you have a male or a female cat?â
You ignored his question and showed towards another pack.
âThese ones are for cats that have allergies.â
BINGO! It was exactly what you needed!
âIs there any document that proves it canât be contaminated with what my cat is allergic to, Mr. Kiba?â you asked after reading his name tag. If he didnât understand till now who you were, he definitely just got the biggest hint.
âIt is all written on the back of the pack, if you care to look,â the man said and clicked his tongue, as he took the bag in his hands to search for the information you needed.
âI donât have enough time to read all of it. Unlike you, I donât have a packed lunch. But very much like you, I donât want to deal with an incompetent workers that donât even know what they sell here.â
The bag fell on the counter. You raised your head to make sure Kiba saw your grin.
âCan you cancel the entire purchase?â
âCan you put everything you took back in place?â he hissed while trying to force a smile out of himself. You heard a chuckle. Kibaâs coworker that was between the aisles all this time, came closer to see the commotion. You could feel how your cheeks started to burn a little. On one hand, you felt proud about fighting for yourself. On the other hand, you didnât want to be a trouble-maker. However, the other guy seemed quite entertained and he even smiled at you, gesturing to you to continue what you were doing.
âIâm not Sachi to do the job that is your responsibility,â you mumbled barely audibly, not sure if you took it too far or not.
Kiba leaned to be closer to you, making you take a step back and close your eyes, afraid of what could come. He wouldnât do anything, especially in front of anyone else, would he? Japanese customer service was famous all over the world. A random guy from a random pet shop wouldnât do anything to make it to the first page of the newspapers with his aggression towards a customer, would he? When you opened your eyes, Kiba was with the basket you used to put the cat food in his hands. He took every bag from the counter and put it in there, checking on you from time to time. You followed his moves, already forgetting that you were supposed to leave after the Sachi comment.
âDo you want something else?â Kiba hissed and put away the basket, somewhere on the floor, near his legs. You looked over the counter and saw that the only package you needed wasnât on the surface, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.
âYes. I need the regular one for neutered female cats.â
The guy behind you burst out laughing and accidentally hit a squeaky toy on the ground. The whole shop was hit with a wave of high-pitched deafening squeak, combined with a hysterical laugh. You opened your eyes.
Kiba scanned the bag after putting away all the packages from above. It took him at least two minutes, in which you couldnât help but cough in failed attempts to cover your own laugh.
âHereâs your purchase and your receipt,â the clerk finally said, tired from the whole interaction.
âYou forgot the most important thing, Kuranosuke. You forgot to tell our client that we are waiting for her to visit us again soon,â the other man said while you were on your way to exit. You waved at him and he waved back, winking at you. Again, you felt your cheeks getting hotter. You werenât Kibaâs first client and you didnât destroy his morning, but he would definitely remember you for at least a few days, and his friend would make sure to remember it for longer.
âNow we are equal, Mr. Kiba,â you whispered as you went towards the bicycle in front of the pastry shop.
The next challenge for the day was the university. You didnât have too many lessons that day, but you had your appointment with the curator you chose for your thesis. And the entire road to the university you were thinking about what to tell him. He was in high demand between all the students and even refused a doctoral student that had a similar idea with yours but came to him later. He also told you from the start that he would collaborate with you only if you were willing to put in enough effort. Your topic was about âThe importance of the allelopathic effect in edible plants,â while the doctoral student wanted to write about âThe allelopathic effect in the agriculture industryâ. Both of your topics were of great importance and with lots of work to put in, but apparently the professor chose yours because he wanted to try himself in the food engineering field, being already too burned-out from agriculture. You won due to simple luck: approaching the professor first and being from a new field of interest for him. Of course, you felt sorry for the doctoral student who couldnât get the professor that they wanted, but it only motivated you to work harder on your subject. Plus, you didnât even know who the other person was. You heard about them only from your professor who wanted to motivate you to put on as much work as you were capable of. They could even be immaginary from what you knew, just as a form of manipulation.
And it seemed endless, the whole meeting with the professor. Yes, you made a plan regarding the experiments you had to make, what seeds to buy, on what days to come to the lab, how to get your money back from the university, how to use the lab, how to wash your hands. Firstly, you planned to go home and re-read all the information you had to know for work. Now, remembering something new seemed like an impossible task. As you rode your bicycle, a strong craving for some pastry hit you. It was somewhere in the back of your mind in the morning, since you were behind the counter, reading all the names displayed there. But all the stress made you forget till now, when a wave of exhaustion hit you hard, and made it impossible to put any force into ignoring the craving. And your only option seemed to be the convenience store pastry. It wasnât that bad, especially from that one market at the corner of your building. They had a type of chocolate cake that both you and Suzumu could kill for, even each other. But everything else they had was just as good.
Park the bike, lock it, enter the store, and right towards the last aisle. You could faintly see the contour of a pastry container. It was right in front of you, right under your hand and when you wanted to grab it and go directly to the counter, someone took it. You turned your head towards the person, to put a face on the maddening situation. And⊠What the fuck? Who did this person think he was to spend money on convenience store pastry that had questionable ingredients, but cancel the order on you who were selling high-class pastry?
âOh, so you donât have any objections regarding the ingredients here?â you asked before thinking.
âAll of them are written on the package. I donât need to ask anyone about them,â came the answer and was getting away faster, as Kiba was walking towards the counter.
âIs it written there if the chocolate used for the couverture grew near banana or coconut trees, in case you have allergies?â
Kiba stopped and looked directly in your eyes. Damn, you were annoying and had some guts. Usually, it was enough for people to look once in his eyes and get lost, but not, you had to follow him around with your revenge and smartass retorts! Your phone vibrated and using this, Kiba left you behind once again. However, he didnât expect you to ignore the phone and run to him to snitch away the pastry. Even you were surprised by your actions. But it was how justice was supposed to work. There was no way a guy who didnât buy good quality pastry was going to just buy the convenience store one!
âHEY!â he yelled behind you and you could hear how he was running after you. Your phone vibrated again, but you were already in front of the cashier. âItâs mine!â Kiba yelled at the cashier and the worker probably saw the whole scene, because he didnât take it from you yet. Kiba put his hands on the package, and you tightened your grip. He pulled it towards him, you pulled it towards you. The cashier ticked his tongue.
âCan I scan it?â
Both of you ignored the cashier. Both of you ignored your phone. Everything that mattered was the pastry that both of you were craving this whole day after not getting any from âTakeruâs Moving Castleâ. Pull, push, pull, pull, push, pull again and BAM! The chocolate pastry is on the floor. You looked at Kiba, Kiba looked at you and synchronized, you turned to the cashier and bowed, apologizing. The guy that seemed to be a high-schooler, looked outside and craned his neck to look between the aisles. When he saw no one, he went towards the cleaning tools behind him. He handed them to both of you and without saying a single word, the three of you understood the assignments you had to do. Your phone rang again, as you took the scoop.
âYes?â you finally answered and Kiba rolled his eyes. All this time you ignored it and now you found enough time to see what was the matter. âWhat? Why didnât you tell me earlier? Since when did she disappear? Iâm coming now!â
You threw what you scooped in the bucket and ran towards the exit. You faintly heard the accusation of running away from both men. But you couldn't care less. You actually were ready to pay all the money you had for the accusations to be true, if it was enough to get your cat back.
It was Suzumu who called to tell you that your landlord came visiting, so he had to take Sadako out. But for the first time, Sadako was nowhere to be found after the landlord left. Suzumu searched for her since you were in the university, afraid you would yell at him for being neglectful. However, both of you knew he just seemed neglectful. Sadako meant for Suzumu just as much as she meant for you, especially because he was spending most of the time at home, together with the cute, fluffy, tuxedo cat you illegally took into your apartment. God, you could even leave the meeting with your professor if it meant that you could find your cat sooner. Maybe he would have changed his mind, refused you and taken in the doctoral student with the same idea as you. But you didnât care. Sadako, your cat, the softest, most precious, lovely, and playful being in your entire life was missing and you had to find her FAST.
âSADAKO! Sadako! Where are you? I have your favorite food! Sadako?â you yelled on your way home, hoping your little girl was still somewhere close.
Suzumu ran onto you and explained all the places he already looked for. He seemed out of breath and the hoodie he was always wearing was covered in dust and ground.
âGo home, Iâll take the search from here,â you said in a quiet voice. Your flatmate seemed to be searching for the cat for hours already. He deserved some rest.
âI wanted to search for the park next. Itâs big. Youâll need help,â Suzumu said between huffs and puffs. He was so, so tired.
âItâs okay. Iâll manage. Someone has to make sure she didnât returned yet.â
You would find her. You had to. There was no other way. No one else could find Sadako but you. If you had to search every bush and tree in the park, you would do it. Sadako would be safe in your hands tonight.
âSadako! Sadako! Did you see a black and white cat nearby? She is very fluffy and answers to the name Sadako. No? Oh, sorry. Sadako! SADAKO! SadakoâŠâ
There was no person in the park that didnât hear you yelling after your cat. Some of them even stopped to ask you who you were searching for. Some of them helped you a little. A few asked to send them photos of your cat and your contacts to tell you if they see her. It took you an entire hour to reach the other entrance of the park when you usually were making the same distance in fifteen minutes. And Sadako was nowhere to be found. So, you took a break on one of the benches and messaged Suzumu who was waiting for you at home. He said that the cat didnât come back and he didnât see her near the house. What if the poor cat was hit by a car? What if she was somewhere, afraid and alone, having no idea what to do next? Yes, she was born on the streets, but you took her in after you saw her near the garbage, all alone and wet. She was only a few days old back then and you had to feed her milk with a pipette. She knew nothing about hunting and surviving on the streets. Your cat was a total homebody that went outside for max ten minutes every time your landlord came unexpectedly.
You looked at the sky to stop yourself from crying. Having foggy eyes wouldnât help you find Sadako. So, you blinked fast and looked at the bush right in front of you. And you saw something. It seemed to be like a fluff of some type. A few bushes away you saw something similar that ended up being a piece of wool. But you still hoped. Maybe it wasâŠ
âSADAKO!â you yelled when the body of your cat appeared behind the bush. You ran towards her, to make sure your cat was okay. She was lying on her side and raised her head a little when heard her name. You could see her ears moving and when you touched her, she started purring. However, you also saw some blood on her white fur.
âDonât move it!â a voice yelled at you as you knelt in front of your cat. When you look at the person who said it, you frowned. What the hell did he want now?
âLook, I donât have time to deal with you now. My catâŠâ you started, as Kiba was approaching.
âI work for a vet clinic. This cat can be injured. If you donât move it with care, you can injure it further. Wait a second, and Iâll help you.â
You looked at Kiba whose broad shoulders turned to you. He called someone and talked a little. Then, he took Sadako in his hands and palpated her a little, careful not to cause her any more pain.
âGood girl,â he whispered as Sadako rubbed against his hand. She purred louder and licked Kibaâs hand. You didnât know she was capable of that. Every time someone except for you and Suzumu tried to touch her, she was either running away or hissing at them. So, you looked closer at Kiba, trying to understand what made him so special. You couldnât find anything, just the naturally sharp expression that wasnât softening even a second.
You came back to reality when someoneâs car honked close to the park. This made Kiba get up with Sadako in his hands. He walked with her, without giving you any explanations, except for one stopping and looking at you with a raised eyebrow, as if asking you if you were coming. Of course, you were! Sadako was your cat.
âTake care of my car, Boss,â the driver said and you felt like you saw him somewhere before. He gave the keys to Kiba and left to catch a taxi. Kiba turned to you and let you take Sadako, but only after explaining how to hold her.
âDonât let her move too much. She seems to be fine, just a little scared, but we canât be sure just now. Get in the car. We are going back to my workplace.â
And you got in the car near Kiba, who was driving you to the Snowdrop Vet Clinic.
âEverything will be alright,â he mumbled, without even looking at you, as he turned on the engine.
You let out a breath. There was something regarding your first client who asked about the cross contamination of the honey that made you believe that everything would actually be alright. That all the trouble was in the past and soon, Sadako would purr in your bed as you two were cuddling for sleep.
Kiba smelt faintly like chocolate cake.
#oops i said yes#kuranosuke kiba#voltage inc#pastry cats and break up songs#oops i said yes au#voltage inc au#irresistible mistakes#toma kiriya
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No need to read the Bridgerton books tbh, they're romance novels and let's call them a product of their time. I mean, tastes differ of course, so for the people who enjoy them, good for them. I used to like them years ago and still like some aspects of them but... in particularly Eloise's book is just a no for me nowadays (but I guess it's many ppls favorite so... maybe it's just me). btw there is an older Featherington sister in the books called Felicity (but that's about all I remember so I guess it's not that important) - I *think* she was pretty much normal and nice, but it's been ages, so I could be wrong. Anyway, love your ideas!! With Bridgerton S3 coming up, this is sure to make many Bridgerton OC creators happy!
It's not that I mind the books or anything, it's just not the genre I usually reach for.
As for the show, I watched it when it first came out and thought it was okay. Solid show with a pretty handsome cast.
I probably wouldn't even have thought about making an OC for it, but when Thatâąïž scene with Daphne and Simon came (and I learned that it was taken from the actual book) it pissed me off so bad that Kitty popped into my mind as a "we say Daphne Bridgerton has no right but the right to gtfo" OC đ
(Also, pulling out is not contraception there was no need to go there to breach the topic at all)
And because I am really, really bad at stopping myself I made her some BFFs (Poppy and Charlie) who... yes, also spiralled out of proportion đ
I never made more than one singular gifset for Kitty and Simon after season 1 and then season 2 just didn't really do it for me, so I didn't go back.
But I stumbled upon the sneaky peeks for Pen and Colin last night and my brain went "if Poppy ever finds out he said that, Colin better sleep with one eye open" đ
And here we are today đ
PS: from what I gathered I am kinda hoping they scrap the whole Eloise and Sir Philip thing, because it grosses me out a bit, but I can understand how hardcore fans feel very passionate about them and would be disappointed, so đ€
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My Dad's Mind Maze (Recovery AU)
Chapter 1: The Day a Bomb Exploded in My Father's Brain
Word Count: 1,9 k
Warning: Strong language, mild sexual content
a/n: Hello everyone! So I'm finally getting back into writing a bit and this old draft is the first in line while I work on another Casanova request. Hope you all like it <3
"My daddy is like a superhero!" Little Ophelia said while the other girls talked about their dads after ballet class.
"Your dad's a plumber, catch yourself on," one of the girls said and the others laughed.
"Yeah! He's a plumber but he helps people so he's like a hero, and he's going to school too, and he can make me fly when he tosses me up. He's a hero!" She started getting upset at how the other girls giggled.
"What is going on here?" Alan asked when he entered the room.
"Dad!" Ophelia ran into his arms. "The girls were laughing at me cause they say you're not a hero."
"That's because they don't know what a hero is, sweetheart," he took his daughter in his arms. "They think heroes are always like superman or batman, but sometimes a hero is just someone who can make your life a little better."
"You make my life a lot better," she hid her face in the crook of his neck.
"See? Then I'm your hero, they're just jealous they don't have a hero of their own."
"They said you're just a plumber."
"I am, and I saved a woman today from having her entire house flooded, isn't that something? Her kitties would all be under water if it wasn't for me."
"She had kitties?"
"She did, three! They were called Larry, Garry, and Jerry."
"You're the best, Dad⊠you saved the kitties!" Ophelia laughed.
"Now come on, princess, let's get home so you can show me the new moves you learned. I need to improve my dancing!"
*
Time changes many things, it makes little girls grow up into women, it makes fathers turn from heroes to⊠slightly older heroes. But Ophelia's love for her father remained unchanged, if anything, it grew.
Her world was crushed when the police knocked on her door to let her and her family know that her dad was admitted to the hospital after being run over by a truck. Alan was in a coma for a while, but she didn't care that he wouldn't respond, she kept coming to see him every single day.
Ophelia would sing, bring different essential oils to stimmulate his senses. She took care of him in every way she possibly could, knowing her mother wasn't strong enough to handle everything, her twin Dean would most likely lash out because of how frustrated he was, and her younger brother Joel couldn't exactly understand what was going on.
"I can't keep watching him do nothing," Dean said.
"Will you shut up?" Ophelia cried. She also felt like that, but didn't have the courage to say it.
She was carefully trimming her father's nails. "There you go, all better. Maybe I should trim his beard too, I'll get the trimmer."
"Oph, you don't have to do this," Tricia said.
"I know, I want to," the girl said with tears in her eyes. "I can't spend time with him, but I can do this. At least we're Bonding."
"Daddy's girlâŠ" she teased. That title had been given Ophelia from a very young age, ever since she was a baby and would only stop fussing on her dad's arms. More than once, she caught herself wishing her mother was the one in a coma instead of her father⊠not that she'd ever admit it.
Carefully, Ophelia trimmed her dad's beard while she covered his chest with a towel and then combed his hair.
"You're so handsome now, see?" She whispered and kissed his forehead. "Please come back to us, Daddy, please come back to me."
"He touched my boob the other day," Tricia murmured. "They said it was a spasm, a motor response, but⊠it felt like he knew."
"That sounds like Dad," Ophelia chuckled.
Tricia had been working double shifts to make sure the family would have enough money while Alan couldn't work, which left her eldest daughter to care for her father almost every day. She was out of school already, she graduated early six months before and was headed to a music conservatory, but none of that mattered anymore.
"He's up! He's awake!" Ophelia cried on the phone when she saw her dad open his eyes and carefully read the note that was hangin above his bed stating who he was, where he was, and why he was there.
"What? Really? I'll be there in fifteen minutes!" Tricia shouted and immediately hung up.
"Hey, Dad!" Ophelia smiled at him, but his expression was unchanged until he started screaming. He was confused and scared, he tried to get up, but the medical staff was trying to hold him down.
"Fuck off! Fuck off! Let me go!" He struggled and squirmed.
"What is happening?" She asked.
"Post coma agitation, it's very common," one of the nurses explained. "You've had an accident, Alan, that's why you're in hospital now."
"Don't you have any medication you can give him for that?"
"You!" Alan pointed at his daughter.
"It's me, Dad, it's me! I've been here the whole time!"
"Did you bring the outline drawings with the elevations?" he mumbled. "Unless I see the drawings I don't now weather I can build it for you or not in the time frame."
"Do you know who this is, Alan? Who is this girl?" The nurse asked.
"It's me, Daddy, it's Ophelia."
"Ophelia⊠that's a weird name," he snorted with laughter.
"I'm your daughter."
"My daughter? I haven't got a daughter."
"Yeah you do, look," she pulled out of her bag a photo album and opened to show him a picture of him holding her and his twin brother. "Look, it's you and this is me, this is Dean, your son."
"Don't be daft, that's not you⊠this is a baby, you're not a baby."
"I was a baby one day. Look, do you know who this is?" Ophelia turned the page to show a picture of her mother holding her.
"Is that⊠have I seen her before?"
"Yeah! She's your wife, Tricia. My mother."
"My wife? Cheryl! Yeah, that's Cheryl!" Alan smiled, quite proud of himself for remembering.
"No, Dad, Cheryl was your high school girlfriend, this is my mum, Tricia. You married her after."
"Did I?"
"Yeah, look at you two in Portugal," Ophelia pointed. "That's you and that's her. You remember that? You went on holiday together."
"It was hot," he murmured. "On a hovercraft together."
"Holiday," she giggled.
"Honeycomb⊠Yeah, a honeycomb."
"Holiday," she tried not to laugh, but it was too silly. If her father wasn't the one with a life changing brain injury, she would've been cackling.
She rememebered he used to do that game when she was child, a game in which he'd pronounce words wrong just so she'd correct him and he'd say 'but what did I say?' so she'd repeat his mispronounciation and he'd ask again 'and what's the right one?' until she would get pouty and irritated and he'd laugh⊠He loved to annoy his little girl, that is every father's favorite pastime, after all.
"What the fuck am I doing here anyway?" Alan got upset after being corrected and tried to take his shirt off. "I wanna go home!"
"Hey hey, calm down, sorry for laughing," Ophelia held him in place and once she was on top of him he smirked.
"Come here often?" He teased.
"Yes, because I'm your daughter and you're my father and I'm taking care of you."
The nurse assured that the amnesia would go away, even if his recovery took months or years, he's at least remember who she was, who the rest of the family and his old friends were. It was comforting to think at least that much was true, but it was undeniable that something was broken. That wasn't her father, that was somebody else she'd need to learn how to love and avoid pressuring with her expectations of who whe was supposed to be.
Ophelia frowned, thinking of what her life would look like from now on, what his life would look like. How could someone she looked up to and admired so much, someone who cared for her and was supposed to make her feel protected was now this shell of a man? He needed protection, he needed to be taken care of now. There's something so depressing about having to care for the ones who cared for you.
And of course, the harrassment started. Alan's impulse control was gone and he's make the most ludicrous comments without a filter, he's touch women innapropriately simply for not understanding what was or not appropriate anymore. And his daughter wasn't an exception. Three times, three times it happened that day
"Nice ass!" Alan reached to grab Ophelia from behind.
"No!" She screamed, swatting his hand away. "Dad, don't do that. This isn't right and I don't like it. You can't do this, remember the father-daughter touches I taught you just now?"
"But it's so nice, you're so sexy, you look like my girlfriend."
"That's because you married that girlfriend and had me, I'm your daughter, I'm Ophelia. Remember?"
"TriciaâŠ"
"No, not Tricia. Ophelia."
"Ophelia," Alan murmured.
"Yes!" For a moment she had hope, he understood. She saw it in his eyes that he remembered her and all the good times they shared when she grew up.
"Oh look at the tits on yaâŠ" he went to fondle her again and once more she had to push him away.
"Dad! Don't! Please, Daddy," she was on the verge of crying. The nurse told her the amnesia would go away soon, but it was painful.
"Damn right I'm your daddy, you're Daddy's good girl, huh? Why don't you come sit in Daddy's lap for a little ride?"
"Please stop," she had to look down to hide her tears.
"But you're so beautiful, Trish, just a little. I can't help myself, just looking at you gives me a hard on."
"Please, Dad, please remember me," Ophelia held up a photo of herself in her old ballet uniform.
"That's my daughter, she's taking fencing lessons."
"Dancing lessons, Dad. That's your daughter, that's me when I was four!"
"What the hell happened to you?"
"I grew up, it's been seventeen years."
Ophelia couldn't hold back, she let out a pained sob and hid her face behind her hands. She just wanted her father back, the wanted him to protect her and tell her everything would be fine.
"Ophelia," Alan finally said, taking her in his arms. "Oph, my baby, it's alright. Daddy's here, it's alright. Remember what mum said? Breathe and count to ten, shall we?"
"DadâŠ"
"Yeah."
"I love you," she hugged him tightly.
"Why are you crying, princess? I love you too, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, absolutely nothing."
"Baby, what did I do?" He asked suddenly, even though she knew in an hour he'd forget she wasn't Tricia again and try to touch her. "I didn't mean to."
"I want my Daddy," tears shed down her face though she tried to hold back for his sake.
"I'm here, I'm sorry."
"It's okay, it's not your fault."
"I'm not the daddy I used to be? I'm so sorry, my little darling, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay. You're a different daddy, but I love you all the same."
Tag List: @jozstankovich
#recovery#recovery movie#recovery alan#recovery david tennant#david tennant fanfic#fanfic#alan hamilton#alan hamilton fanfic
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15 Questions
Tagged by @redshirt2. Thank you!
1. Are you named after anyone?
So, the story is that my parents were 100% convinced I was going to be a boy (on no evidence mind you - no ultrasound to see). Had a name they loved all picked out. And then maybe two weeks before I was born the doctor was like, so you know, you might want to consider the alternative? And have a girl's name picked out, just in case?
So, family lore has it I was named after the feminine form of the fourth author across on the bookshelf.
2. When was the last time you cried?
Dr. Who rewatch - Doomsday
3. Do you have kids?
Nope.
4. What sports do you play/have you played?
a ha ha ha ha. None. I actively spent a lot of my childhood trying to get out of mandatory daily PE. I did do ballet for a long time. And, for a while I did horseback riding - no interest in competitions, I just liked horses.
5. Do you use sarcasm?
Who me? Perish the thought.
6. What's the first thing you notice about people?
Probably if they're wearing something fun. Or, if I'm talking to them, their voice.
7. What's your eye color?
Brown.
8. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings. I will sit through a lot for a happy ending.
9. Any talents?
Secret super power - remembering all the things people don't like to eat. Not just allergies (obviously allergies), but like - this person doesn't like peanuts but does like almonds, these three people hate cooked mushrooms but don't mind them raw, while these two other people think raw mushrooms are of the devil but cooked mushrooms are delicious, this person will pick peas out of any dish, this person things figs are too seedy, etc.
10. Where were you born?
US
11. What are your hobbies?
writing, reading, quilting, cooking, being nerdy
12. Do you have any pets?
two kitties
13. How tall are you?
short
14. Favorite subject in school?
History and English in high school. Freshman English in college ruined English for me, but I was a History major.
I did IB history in high school, which for us was an exhaustive look at the interwar period + a little bit after (1918 to 1950-ish). Interestingly the history class I took before that ended at the Crimean War. So, if it happened between 1856 and 1918 I have no idea about it, or if it happened after the Korean War I'm a little fuzzy. But, ask me about how WWI directly caused WWII - 20+ years later and I am good to go. I will remember those 20 years of European history on my death bed. Also, ask me about the Berlin Airlift and why it is batshit insane that nobody has ever made an inspirational movie about it.
15. Dream job?
A job that pays my bills and doesn't make me lose my mind from boredom? I don't really feel a vocation for anything, so something that is low key interesting enough to make me not hate going to work, and leaves me time and brain space at the end of the day for other things is basically my dream. I've achieved that maybe 85% of the way - could have more money, could be a little more engaged at work - but basically I'm doing okay.
tagging @wtfuckevenknows, @actual-sleeping-beauty, @jesuisici33, @three-drink-amy, @cha-melodius, @kiwichaeng, and anyone else who wants to take an open ended tag. Introduce yourselves!
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Tagged by my newest mutual @vladimirpootietang I am swiping the color coding idea because that's brilliant
1. are you named after anyone?: After several different animated characters who share the same name and a goddess don't worry about it lol
2. when was the last time you cried?: like the day before yesterday I was sobbing about animals
3. do you have kids?: nope
4. do you use sarcasm a lot?: sometimes. a lot less than I used to because I don't think it's good for my brain
5. what sports do you play/have played?: have played soccer and basketball as a youth. was not only very bad but also highly unmotivated (my soccer logic: if I stand here the ball will inevitably come back to me and then I won't have to do this pointless jogging up n down the field. They made me a goalie in soccer, for some reason~ haha)
6. whatâs the first thing you notice about people?: I don't look at people, so... probably the overall vibe/mood/body language
7. scary movies or happy endings?: between these options, probably scary? I'll take thematically appropriate endings over blanket happy ones any day
8. any special talents?: I am usually able to pull off any crafting skill at a decent level on the first attempt
9. where were you born?: South(west) USA
10. what are your hobbies?: sleep, art, historical garments, sewing, reading comics, watching animation, getting lost in hyperspecific YouTube rabbit holes (carpentry, cooking, coffee, sewing again, etc.)
11. do you have any pets?: one kitty!
12. how tall are you?: 5âČ2âł
13. favorite subject in school?: art class was best
14. your dream job?: retirement, the destruction of capitalism
15. eye color: brown
Tagging my moots! No pressure obviously~ @wolven-skull, @bumblesnarf, @scriberat, @sphaliro, @caramelcallie, @cosmic-whorror, @languor-em, @rbyktt, @tales-of-cerano, @nefariousinclination, @reptilemodernism, @biollantequeen, @absent-alexjay, @littlebeast85, @velvetstarling
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V Flight
This is a What If in which Nathaniel behaves himself at the end of Golemâs eye. Iâve written another story based on this concept but thereâs not a real link between them.
Hey, wanna hear a joke? It goes like this: a magician, two commoners and a djinni walk into a bar.
Okay, it wasnât a bar, it was some hole the girl has taken us to, and, clearly, it wasnât a joke, even if I found all this pretty funny.
The fall of the mighty John Mandrake had begun even before his rise; but, for once, I couldnât really say anything to the boy: because, for the first time in his miserable life, he had done something right; not right for himself or for his Government, but just right. He had made a promise to Kitty Jones and he had kept it, or at least tried to. I was surprised, I have to say: less surprised to see him regret it the moment he spotted the sphere spying on us and understood he was well and truly compromised.
Luckily for him, he had a djinni who was an authority in fleeing dangerous places and people; less luckily for Kitty Jones and Jakob Hyrnek, that were now on the run with a dead weight behind.
«We donât trust you» the girl had hissed at the end of a long hide-and-not-be-caught game, away from the Government and what remained of golem and afrit.
Hyrnek didnât say anything, but, by the look on his face, he would have liked to strangle my master.[1]
Nathaniel tightened his lips. «We are all fugitives» he said. «Weâre all in the same situation».
I coughed delicately and he glared at me. «You are still bonded to me. You still have to obey me».
«We had a pact, master. Six weeks».
Then, the boy burst out a joyless laugh that could have get us caught, if it wasnât for Kitty, who gave him a good shake. «Are you mad? Quiet!»
Nathaniel ignored her. «Six weeks?» he repeated, trying to catch me. I was a swift little mouse, and I wriggled out easily. «You want to tell everyone my name? Fine! See if I care. Iâm already an enemy of the State!»
Well, he wasnât wrong.
«We should leave the country» said Hyrnek to the girl. «I have some family in Europe, they could help us⊠the two of us» he underlined. Well, rude.
My master didnât say anything.
«You should leave, too, but Iâd wait one year. Or two» I commented. «You two should wait, too».
«Bartimaeus is right. They are probably already monitoring every station, every port, everything: they have our names, our faces, and they know I have a dem- a spirit with me».
«Oh yeah, you know all about this, donât you? You were the one pulling the strings!» said Hyrnek tartly.
«Yes, I know all of this! And maybe, if you had some brains, youâd use this! We could help each other!»
«Heâs right» muttered Kitty. «We have little option left, Jakob».
There was a tense silence. Then: «Fine. But the demonâŠÂ»
«The demon, I mean, Bartimaeus is useful. I need him».
«Well, Iâm touched, but Iâm right here: stop talking about me» I stepped in. «And I really donât want to be dragged in some fugitive thingy. Been there, done that. Iâd rather go home». Even if I was a tad curious about what Nathaniel would have done next.
The boy in question sighed. «What do you say about a revision of our terms? I⊠weâŠÂ» I spared him from telling the truth, which was that without me theyâd have ended up dead within one day.[2]
«Fine. Letâs negotiate, like good old days. We have audience too, just like in the suq».
[1] Understandable.
[2] And I am being generous.
#bartprompts23#bartimaeus prompts week 23#bartimaeus trilogy#bartimaeus series#prompt 5 flight#bartimaeus#nathaniel#kitty jones#jakob hyrnek#what if nat wasn't a little shit
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FĂłdlan Freewrite #1: Cats
Hello. Earlier this year, I wrote some FE3H-themed freewrites for my Twitter -- since I've left the platform, I continued writing them for some friends, but now that I'm on Tumblr, I feel now's the time to share them with the public once more and even publish some new ones. I worked very hard on this first piece, so please give it a read and tell me how it made you feel. Thank you.
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Felix couldnât stop petting the cat in his lap. It was a magnificent cat: a fine Dominic Gray breed, purring up a storm as it exposed its pleasingly plump belly to the world. Truly, there was no finer way to spend oneâs time â other students honed their craft and attended to their studies at FĂłdlanâs most prestigious academy, but Felix chose instead to pamper a cat: its fur impossibly soft, like the bulging biceps Raphael used for his puppet shows.
It was all Felix could think about, cats. Cats cats cats, he thought as his hands moved down to scratch that glorious belly. Cats cats cats, he thought as his stroking swelled to speeds approaching Mach 2. Cats cats cats, he thought as Mr. Kitty silently observed the the veritable tornado erupting upon his tummy â its surging vortex funneling the fish from the nearby pond and into the Eldritch mouth of a hungry Flayn, all the while morphing Lorenzâs carefully-manicured hair into a gnarly mohawk not unlike that of Mr. T â before glancing up at Felix with that patented disapproving cat glare of âBoy, da fuq are you doing?â. Yet on he went: rubbing that belly like a magic lamp ready to grant his wish of eating Kentucky Fried Chicken, freshly picked from the Oghma mountains. (God, that shitâs delicious.)
Naturally, it wasnât long before his furious petting broke the space-time barrier: all matter and life coalescing into a single point â the frozen stasis of Garreg Mach resounding with an ethereal crash, yielding none other than a Divine Pulse. Seizing his chance, Felix wound back the hands of time and bitchslapped Sylvain for his lunchtime innuendo the other day. (âMan, if only Felix could use his swordplay for other purposes, if you catch my drift-Ye gods! Itâs the holy hand of Magic Johnson himself!â.) There were a great many space-time adventures that ensued â not the least in Felixâs steamy adventures in Mormonism â but alas, yours truly already ran out of ideas, so everything and all things settled down then: FĂłdlanâs time-shift back to normal as if the tornado never happened, Felixâs hand back to scratching sweet, slow scritches â his fingers callused and rough from hours of finding Jesus in the amiibo gazebo.
Mr. Kitty, alas, laid witness to the entire paradoxical venture â his eyes wide as dinner plates for the rest of his lounging days by the fishing pond. Dat blep was never the same.
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Please note that I am not responsible for any broken brains. Thank you.
#fire emblem three houses#fe three houses#feth#fe3h#felix hugo fraldarius#felix fraldarius#fire emblem three houses fanfiction#mr. kitty#fodlan freewrites#yes this is my patented absurdism at work
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