#maybe he did try and go down the route of 'if i know it i cant be scared'

[maxismp1]

Friends

Logan howlett x reader

Remame of my old post from years ago

Many years passed since Logan joined the mansion. And shortly after he apeard so did she.

There was always soemthing going on. Him being the one to least interact with people, genuinely avoiding contact with other. Yet he was always somhow around her.

And her. She was similar to him, ironically. Not shy, by all means she had a mouthfull of insults for everyone.

Both of them type of people to try to get some alone time, and yet they are always found together.

That arose suspisioun around the other's. The theory were simple at first.

"they met during some battle"

"they know eachother from before"

"they are friends"

One that always somehow got discarded was "they are together"

Simply because it didn't seem like it. Logan maybe did flirt with who eh could. But her? To him, she just. Existed. Or that's what others thought.

First to start asking around was suprisingly not scoot, but hank. He would side glance at them during the misison. The way "wolverine" would be more closer to her then other x-men. Always managing to land her a hand or help her take some mutant. Meanwhile scoot would be in middle of a ass whooping, he would help her punch some low mutant she could handle herself.

Even after missions. They would be the first ones to check on eachother.

Every exhausted sigh form logan was met with her extabding her hand, making a cigar appear and giving it to him. Thankfully look would always cross his bored face.

"thanks Bub"

"you're welcome"

Short sentance we're always exchanged. Yet everytime hank would walk into a room previously filled with chasing, they would always be there.

(side note. Y/n has the ability to store things into the "inventory". She can't craft new things, onyl store them into the make shift void)

Another thing that happend was both of them in the kitchen. Cliche, I know. Soft hums filled the room, along with the soft tune of a radio.

In the kitchen were both of them. What a surprise, I know. She was moving around, walking form one end of the canter to other. Logan on the other hand just leaned onto the wall to her left. Amused look on his face as he watch her, admiring if you looked close enogh.

He was smoking his cigar and a soda in other hand. There was no beer in the whole mansion and he was sure that he was rather gona kill scoot or trow the profesor down the stairs. Again.

"yoh are squising the soda onto the floor"

Her voice caught his attention. He was indeed squising the can

"fuckin' hell, sorry bub"

"all good. Here"

Her hand was extanded towards him. A beer bottle materialised I her palm

"Got it yestrday. Here you go love"

he gladly took the beer bottle from her bruised yet soft hand

"thanks"

The nicknames weren't goneunoticed by a certain blue beast with a keen hearing. Onyl a chuckle was heard in the hallway before he disapeard

Next to actualy starts seeing the details was rouge. (comics rougher, not movie). She would tease him no matter if he was with Y/n or not. Not even a are whats the truth behind her teasings

"heard y/n 's out of the house... Finaly you can go on yer day without clinging to her like a cat onto a fur ball"

"i do not cling to her"

He rasped out as a responce. His mind somwhere else compeltly. She was out. Yes. On a mission that he knew of long ago, yet couldn't get the profesor to let him go with her. Distractions, he said.

"sure you don't logan.. I heard she's coming back in around 4 minuts"

Just as the words left he mouth he was alrady on her feet. "good to know" he gave her a s smirk before walking past her. By the rout he was taking she could tell the first place is definitly eather his or her room. Wasn't like they were Separated. No no. They were in the same room. Just diferent enetry doors. Not like many noticed anyway.

Every time one of them came back there would be laughter coming form the "rooms".

Suprisingly the last to notice and the one to make it known to all was Jean. She was in the lab per usual. Checking on hank to see what he was doing now and to get to her own lab to do some stuf.

She was doing routine checks on the files of everyone along with check ups. Her enxt file was y!/n. She opened the file and started checking the data so see if it was corect and matching with her current one.

One thing made her stop in track, her name. "Y/N Howlett /Blitz ". The last name was the thing that made her stop in her tracks. She quickly opened the file details and went to marriagale status

spouse : James Howlett / Wolverine.

Marriage : unknown

They have been married... This entire time.. That little fact made her sit up and get to Hank as fast as possible

"HANK!!"

"Jean.. What got you so worked up?"

"they are married!!"

"who is?"

"Logan and Y/N! They have been married this entire time!"

"how did you-"

"her file!"

"has no one checked her file in years?"

"yeah... That'd besides the point! Oh I have to tell Scott..."

And at that moment Y/N came true the door. Tired look on her face

"yo hank. Got them sleeping pills? Logan can't sleep agai-" she stoped to look at Jean

"... Well hello.. Anyway, Hank"

Hank looked ta je a with a slight smile

"we could say I knew" the blue hair beast chuckled and went to get the medication. Jean stayed there mouth slighly open while looking at Blitz.

Heheheh

[bravevolunteer]

ngl every time i see the "cis" in michael's bio it feels. Wrong. like i see it and i go "i'm probably gonna non conform his gender one of these days"

[killjoy-prince]

So I'm on playthrough #4 of this game playing as Astarion this time around with the intention of romancing Wyll and man, picking all the good and heroic options as Astarion especially in Act 1 really is a case of "He would not fucking say that" bc Wyll likes all the good and heroic options and Astarion is. not that lolol

One thing is by chance I found a workaround on how to not make Wyll a devil and still keep Karlach alive. It worked but now im wondering if making him a devil would of been better narratively? Also I just got used to the horns that I kinda miss them. I do have a save thats right before doing the workaround but I did quite a bit of stuff so is it worth it?

[this-doesnt-endd]

and on a semi sidenote i was walking to work this morning and this fucking white truck was being super weird like i saw it coming down from the end of the block and it was normal pace then instantly slowed down and stopped at the stop sign and sat there for prolly like two minutes as i got closer then it turned the same why i had to turn and i saw it drive a bit up then stop again then drove ever so slightly down another street and stop again and i could still see it and it had like a set of bars in the back like something a work truck would have but it seemed a lil too nice to be a work truck and i make another turn walk down that block then i make my final turn and i can see my work at the end of the street and i hear a car coming from behind me its the white fucking truck and it so slowly drives past me then stops a bit ahead in the middle of the road its a small one so thats how most cars drive down it but it was like in the middle at a slight angle and thankfully my friend had just texted me so i knew i could call incase but i walked farther away starting to head into the park right there and i almost past it before it drives up a bit slowly then turns and drives up a street regular speed and i still have two more rows of houses to go so i get the phone ready to dial pepper spray ready headphone out as i walk and i was like so sure it was just gonna drive up and around and come out the alley but it didnt and i got to work and looked at our cameras to see if it was driving around and it wasnt but like what the fuck was that about

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 4:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5.

This chapter is brought to you by myyyyyyy🎉birthday🎉 woohoo 🥳 I hath aged

It's a little bit shorter, but I mean come on it's a unique chapter soooo it's cool guys I swear

Lots more Batfam content this time, albeit Tim centric. I'll balance it out in the future I swear! Also it's still platonic, but you could probably get a romantic reading from this a lil bit if you try

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0

----

A few days have passed since your encounter with Red Robin. He hasn't shown up since, but another thing has.

Your work had sent you an email. An invitation to Wayne Enterprises, to represent them. According to them, your location was the closest to Wayne Enterprises, and so you were selected. You lived 50 minutes away from Wayne Enterprises. Their home office was 30 minutes away. You weren't sure who was doing the math here, but they needed some more practice.

That being said, you could notice a pattern when there was one. This was Tim Drake's attempt to get you out of your home. And unfortunately, it was going to work. You needed your job. It was perfect, remote, didn't bother you as long as you got the work done. Jobs like that were rare, especially in Gotham.

Not for the first time, you kinda felt like crying.

If Red Robin, your soulmate, was indeed Tim Drake, then what was this? Did he have you figured out? Or was he continuing the investigation?

You didn't know...

Refusing to show up would get you fired. There was no way around that. But, what if you couldn't go?

What if you were too injured to go? There's no way you could fake something, the bats are quite literally master detectives. That and your soul animal form would likely reveal the uninjured truth.

Maybe if you injured yourself?

No, no no no. That was a bad route to go down. If this meeting is to check whether you are soulmates with him, a matching injury on your soul animal form would be like a criminal and a suspect having the same tattoo.

There wasn't really any option here. Which, really, is just typical for the vigilantes of Gotham.

"Ughhh." You groaned to yourself, cradling your hands with your head. You glared over at Red, who had been showing up much more frequently these past few days (which was saying something, since all your soul animals were already by you 23/7). Red gave a small chirp in reply, some sort of smugness in its tone.

Maybe it was time to invest in wind chimes or something. You heard they can scare off robins.

You felt like you were going to need it.

~ ~ ~ ~

Tim's developed something of a guilty habit.

It wasn't a bad thing, per se. Nothing B would particularly frown at. Dick might even agree.

He imagined you wouldn't quite feel the same, though.

You looked especially fragile, as you slept. During the day your face was haunted by false bravado, a paranoid edge to every smile. Sleep smoothed out the lines of your face, giving a softer touch to your slumbering form.

You frown when he reaches out to poke your cheek. It's cute. His hand twitches for his camera. You're always cute, whether it's a small little frown on your face or beaming joy.

He's developed a new favorite activity. Alongside solving cases, he's now watching you. He wants to observe it all. From little habits to obvious passions, he wants to know everything. Hobbies, skills, loves, DNA. He'd only just found you, the answer to the mystery that he's been in since birth. He's had a lot of time to build up this obsession.

He wants and wants and needs. He can wait to take.

You are a light sleeper, but he's a quiet stalker. You don't always drink milk before bed, but when you do, you'll get a little more tired than usual. Your groggy face is cute, too.

He reached out, stroking your hair with the slightest of a smile beginning on his face. It was soft. It reminded him of you, your soul animal form. It had flinched away from him earlier, as it always does whenever they were in uniform. Finding that you do the same as a human wasn't so surprising.

They had adapted to your soul form’s skittishness. They could do the same again. His mind briefly flashed through some ideas, an ankle bracelet, a watch, a collar? If it was on the ankle, you'd match.

He broke out of his musings at the shift of movement. A flutter of wings. B’s soul animal flew down perching on a piece of furniture nearby as a vantage point. He smirked. Looked like he wasn't the only one feeling a little possessive tonight.

He must've been thinking of you. Not surprising, given that your soul form was scheduled time with him today. They had to work out a schedule, else there would have been a lot more stabbings. Not that it didn't prevent sudden abductions occasionally, thanks Jason.

That was fine though. B could have you tonight, Damian could have you tomorrow, Dick the next. Because Tim had the real you, right here.

And he wasn't planning on letting go.

There's a room he's preparing inside Drake manor. He’d put your name on it, but that would be too obvious if anyone came around. Instead, it would be his little secret with you. He's only just met you, but he has plenty of ideas for it already.

He didn't feel guilty for this. Not at all.

You were his as much as he was yours after all. If there was a problem with these feelings, then why would fate itself tie you to him?

If anything, the only guilt he’d feel is not telling anyone else. He couldn't help it, he just wanted you to himself for a while. He caught you, so he was allowed to have you.

But was that really guilt? Or just annoyance at the idea of getting caught?

An alert on his communicator made him frown, taking him out of the trance he had felt into. There was more he had to do.

A shame, but it was fine. He got to spend some quality time with you, taken a few things for the future. He’d make more time. And you'll have all the time in the world for him. But first…

Tim withdrew a specialty camera from his utility belt, raising it to his face. He adjusted a few settings, then…

Snap!

~ ~ ~ ~

You fought the urge to yawn. You have been so sleepy lately. You had to wake up especially early for today. Lovely.

At least today was the moment of truth. You'd show Red Robin for once and for all that you were perfectly normal, and not at all his soulmate. He’d lose interest, and your life would return to its domesticity.

The one good thing going for today was that you're somehow accompanied by none of your soul animals. A truly rare occasion that is ruined by the fact that you're instead visiting a soulmate in the flesh. If any of your soul animals do show up, you have your old reliable bag to shove them into. So, you should be alright.

Wayne Enterprises was a terrifying image, but you steadied yourself with the fact that your whole life’s freedom was at stake here, which was much more terrifying. After that you could get through the door. Security just letting you through after giving your name almost had you running out the door though, you'd admit.

The elevator ride was long and solemn, giving you time to think about everything. Maybe you should think about moving, staying in Gotham was perhaps a ridiculous sentiment to begin with. It was a shame though, you were a Gothamite through and through, you didn't want to leave the country your parents lived and raised you in.

Still, perhaps it was time to leave. Things were getting too risky. Thinking about it, Wayne Enterprises? Honesty what even was your life.

The ding of the elevator door interrupts your musings, an assistant directing you to Tim Drake’s office.

As you walk over, you can't help but listen in to some shouting coming from the room.

A younger voice is yelling. “Give me them! You do not deser-” The voice gets cut off, as an older voice yells back. “It is my turn, you do not get to just steal them!”

The younger voice starts up again, but so does the older voice, alongside what you can only presume to be fighting noises.

You just kinda stare at the door. You are a working professional, representing your company to the prestigious Wayne Enterprises. You came here with lofty expectations and responsibilities to fulfill. And the CEO… is fighting someone in his office.

You have no idea what to do.

A minute passes.

You started to think about signaling an assistant to come help, but before you could do so the fighting seemed to end with a shouted “Fine! But B will hear about-” you can't hear the rest, as the shouting returns to a normal volume.

A door is opened and slammed, footsteps retreating away from the office. You take a moment to appreciate the fact that Tim Drake’s office has two doors that lead in different places, because it means you didn't have to meet whoever he was fighting.

A second or two later, the door in front of you swings open. Tim Drake is facing you, his hair a little askew, and his cheeks a little red. He smiles, an easy thing. It's as if the sight of you brought it to his face.

“Welcome!” He waves you in, somehow not acknowledging what you just heard in any form. The objects in his office are perfectly aligned. Nothing looks disturbed at all. How?

He waves you over to a chair, settling into one himself.

“Well.” He begins. “It's nice to see you again, Y/n."

You hope this goes by quickly.

[colonelarr0w]

singledad! nanami having the hots for yuji’s kindergarten teacher who has the tendency to overwork herself to the bone in the name of her precious students

he gets her to unwind with him 🫣 they fuck LMAOOOLLL

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Pairing - !SingleDad Nanami x !Kindergarten Teacher Reader

Warning(s) - None besides some foul language.

Word Count - 2.6k

A/N - Hi, yes, okay, I know the request had a smut element to it, but I took a fluffy route. If you want a part two that has that smut element or an alternate version that focuses on that smut element, please send me a request and I will get to it as quickly as I can! But I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

ENCOUNTER 1 : 

“There! He’s over there!” Yuuji says happily, his grip over your hand tightening as he points to a blonde-haired man standing in the crowd of awaiting parents. You follow his gaze, smiling kindly as the man lifts his hand in a wave, grinning at both you and Yuuji.  

“Alright, off you go then,” you smile down at Yuuji, releasing his hand and watching as the six-year-old toddles over to his father, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s leg and smiling widely up at him. His father stands straight, waving once more to you before vanishing into the crowd. 

ENCOUNTER 2 : 

"Mr. Nanami, correct?" You cast a glance down at your clipboard before your gaze returns to the blonde male standing in front of you. He nods, smiling apologetically as Yuuji tugs once again on his arm, trying his hardest to get his father's attention. "You can both come inside." 

Nanami smiles again as he walks past you, taking a seat on the too-small chairs that you had set up in the center of the classroom. His knees curl up to his chest, but he says nothing as you sit in front of him, smiling first at Yuuji before your gaze shifts to settle on him.  

"Yuuji is an absolute pleasure to have in class. He's very helpful with others and myself, he focuses on each task he's given – he's a very gifted student," you explain, lifting up the pages on your clipboard and smiling as Yuuji's toothy grin widens, gleeful with the praise you were giving him.  

"Is that so? I'm very glad to hear that," Nanami nods, turning then to Yuuji and placing a palm over the top of his head. The six-year-old giggles, leaning into his father's touch with a closed-eye smile.  

You watch the interaction with a gentle smile of your own, fingers releasing their hold on the papers of your clipboard and listening as they quietly fall into place.  

ENCOUNTER 3 : 

"Papa, look! It's Miss (Y/N)," Yuuji bubbles happily, tugging on Nanami's pant leg and pointing in the direction that he had seen you. Curious, Nanami allows his gaze to follow Yuuji's finger – the scolding he wanted to give about pointing falling dead in his throat.  

You're preoccupied with whatever shopping list is curled between your fingers, lips pressed firmly together in thought as you struggle to decide which brand of potato chips to buy. Nanami can't help but silently admire you from his place farther down the same aisle. His lips tug upward in a soft smile – maybe one day he would have enough courage to stride up to you. 

ENCOUNTER 4 : 

"Oh, hello. Did Yuuji forget something at home?" you inquire curiously, raising an eyebrow as a very disheveled Nanami straightens himself out in front of you. His fingers fiddle with his tie, trying to make it look a touch more presentable – but to no avail.  

"I apologize for my appearance, this morning has been hectic. But yes, Yuuji accidentally left his lunchbox," Nanami answers, holding up the small metal lunchbox decorated with superhero stickers – some scratched and some brand new.  

You smile gently at him, reaching out to take the lunchbox from his fingers. "Don't worry, we all have those mornings," you say reassuringly, chuckling gently at Nanami. He returns your smile, cheeks warming at the lingering feeling that your fingers had left behind.  

ENCOUNTER 5 :  

"Hey, isn't that Yuuji's teacher?" Gojo asks, lifting his index finger to point across the bar. Nanami's eyes follow Gojo's finger – which then widen at the sight of you mingling with a few friends, nursing a fruity cocktail in your hand.  

Nanami hums in response, trying his hardest to return his attention to his drink, but your outfit is much too tight, pushing up exactly what needs to be pushed up and making your figure just that much more attractive. Behind his eyeglasses, his gaze roams up and down the dips and curves of your body, his lips quirking up in tune with his wandering eyes.  

"Yeah, it is," he mutters offhandedly, lifting his glass to his lips and resting it against the skin there. Gojo smirks, lowering his finger before standing from his place at the bar. Nanami's eyebrows pinch together in curiosity, watching the snowy-haired male swagger his way across the bar – not stopping until he reaches where you stand with your friends, then throwing a slender arm over your shoulders.  

The once loose grip Nanami had over his glass is replaced by a tight curl of his fingers, one that could surely shatter the glass should he apply the right amount of pressure. His eyes narrow in an almost predatory manner – watching as Gojo smiles at both you and the friends that had come along with you.  

You return his smile and laugh at the cheesy jokes that he throws your way, but Nanami can see the hint of discomfort that lies behind the curl of your lips. Oh, so that was Gojo's plan. 

Downing the rest of the whiskey in his glass, Nanami stands from his place at the bar, striding across the small space until he stands just a few inches away from you, your friends, and Gojo – the latter of whom is wearing that shit-eating grin he always wears when his plans work out just the way that he wanted them to.  

"Oh! Mr. Nanami! I didn't expect to see you out here," you say, turning quickly to glance at the blonde as he wanders into your line of vision. Your smile, once uncomfortable and forced, was now that same smile that you flashed at him when you noticed him at dismissal. "It's nice to see you." 

Nanami's cheeks heat, and he silently thanks the bar for being so dim, its lighting hiding the gentle pink hue that imbues over his face. "It's nice to see you as well Miss (Y/N)," Nanami nods at you, feeling himself smile as you shift an inch closer to him.  

"Oh, would you like to join me at the bar? Your friends can as well, if they'd like," Nanami offers, shooting Gojo a pointed glare. Gojo only smirks, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. That bastard. 

You glance to your friend, who nods encouragingly at you. You turn back to Nanami, smiling at his offer and reaching a hand out to squeeze his arm – your touch lights a small fire underneath his skin, one that he most certainly does not complain about.  

"We'd love to, thank you." 

ENCOUNTER 6 : 

"Where's your father Yuuji?" Your voice is a quiet mumble, your fingers still closed around Yuuji's as the both of your gazes sift through the crowd of awaiting parents – and yet Nanami is nowhere to be seen. The pink-haired boy sinks back onto his heels, a saddened look falling over his face as he leans into your side.  

"I don't know," he mumbles in response, his eyes already glossing over with tears. You soften, kneeling down to be at eye-level with the boy and smiling as reassuringly as you can at him. "Did he forget me?" 

You shake your head quickly, squeezing the tiny hand that still rests in yours. Yuuji sniffles, his cheeks puffing out in an adorable pout. "No! No honey, your father did not forget you. It could just be that work is keeping him a little later." 

Seemingly satisfied with your explanation, Yuuji nods, rubbing his free hand against his tear-filled eyes, sniffling. You smile again, squeezing his fingers before guiding him back to the entrance of your classroom.  

He follows, sitting down at his seat and taking the coloring sheets and colored pencils that you offer him, already scribbling away at the black-and-white monkey that laid in front of him. You take the seat at his left, feeling your heart warm as Yuuji tilts the sheet towards you – a silent invite for you to color with him.  

You take one of the colored pencils that he offers you, coloring in a small section of the page and occasionally looking up to your classroom door – where the hell was Nanami?  

"Wait here for a moment Yuuji, I'm going to call your father, okay?" You lift a hand to ruffle the boy's hair, smiling at him before silently moving towards the chorded phone tucked into the corner of your classroom, located just behind your desk.  

Just as you finish dialing in the now familiar number, the door to your classroom opens, revealing a disheveled Nanami. He leans quietly against the doorframe for a moment, catching his breath before Yuuji turns, smiling widely at the sight of his father.  

"Papa!" 

You turn from where you stand beside the phone, smiling in relief as you watch Yuuji bound up to Nanami, wrapping his little arms halfway around his father's legs.  

"There you are. I have to admit, I was getting a little worried about you," you admit with a smile, waving to Nanami as you walk closer to the pair, watching through softened eyes as Yuuji reaches for his completed coloring page, wanting to show his father.  

"I apologize for my lateness. I had not expected my office to keep me as late as they did," Nanami apologizes, bowing his head at you. You wave him off, then folding your fingers together in front of you.  

"It's not an issue at all. Though you did give Yuuji quite the scare," you admit, not failing to notice the way that Nanami's smile fades for a quick moment, but returns when Yuuji lifts his coloring page up to him.  

"Oh," he hums, turning to Yuuji and laying a palm against the youngster's head, lovingly ruffling his hair. "I apologize Yuuji, I didn’t mean to frighten you." 

"It's okay Papa! Miss (Y/N) and I colored together!" Yuuji bubbles, his eyes crinkling in a wide smile as his eyes momentarily flicker to you. "See? I made this one look like you." 

Nanami smiles fondly, then turning to you and once again mouthing his thanks. You merely wave him off, watching with a smile of your own as Yuuji continues to explain each little character that he had colored in.  

ENCOUNTER 7 : 

"Good morning Miss (Y/N)!" Yuuji exclaims happily, smiling brightly up at you as Nanami leads him forward, releasing the little boy's hand as he tugs his father towards you.  

Biting back the yawn that rises in your throat, you will yourself to smile back at your student, waving politely at him and watching through half-lidded eyes as he lets go of Nanami's hand. He opens his mouth to question you, but is immediately distracted by the call of one of his friends.  

"Good morning Miss (Y/L/N)," Nanami bows politely at you, one that you return clumsily. His eyebrows pinch together in a mixture of curiosity and concern – you weren't acting like your regular self. Your once bubbly attitude and bright greetings were replaced now by half-assed "good morning's" and small waves that carried none of your usual warmth.  

"Morning Mr. Nanami," you return, your smile wobbling as your eyes flicker to meet his own. It's then that he notices the exhaustion that weighs heavy on your eyelids, practically tugging them down to a point where you look as though you're about to fall asleep standing upright.  

"Are you feeling alright this morning?" 

"Oh yes, just tired is all," you wave off his concern, smiling once again at him before a comfortable yet uncomfortable silence falls over the both of you. "I'll be seeing you later?" 

"Yes, have a good day," Nanami smiles at you, his heart warming when you return it – though it doesn't quite reach your eyes that way that it would normally. You wave again at him as he walks off, then turning to your awaiting students and clapping your hands once together.  

ENCOUNTER 8 : 

"Oh! Miss (Y/N)! My papa wanted to talk to you after school today," Yuuji mentions to you, smiling as he glances up from the worksheet that he had been previously occupied with. Your eyebrows pinch together in intrigue, glancing down at the pink-haired boy and tilting your head at him.   

"Alright then, I'll be waiting for him," you reply with a kind smile, then continuing your routine check on the rest of your students, being sure that none of them were struggling with the work that you had handed out.  

< … > 

"Yuuji mentioned that you wanted to speak with me?"  

Nanami swallows the growing lump in his throat, suddenly feeling oddly choked up as you stand in front of him, lifting his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. His shirt feels tighter than before, the air surrounding him is suddenly hotter than it had been previously.  

"Yes – uhm – my apologies if I am taking up your time," Nanami begins, fiddling with his fingers and scratching at already existing hangnails, "but there is something that I wanted to ask of you." 

You smile kindly at him, a gentle laugh falling from your parted lips – a sound that Nanami wishes that he could commit to the very depths of his memory.  

"You're not wasting my time at all," you're quick to reassure him, your gaze momentarily flickering to Yuuji as he takes advantage of the empty classroom, organizing the books in your small-shelved library.  

Nanami inhales deeply, holding the breath in his chest and wondering if what he was about to ask would make you view him in a different light – though he sincerely hoped that you wouldn't.  

"I was wondering...and forgive me if this is too forward...if you would like to join me for coffee sometime this weekend?" His voice is dangerously quiet, a light shake to his voice as the fear of being rejected finally sinks into his bones – maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.  

Your laughter dies down, fading completely as you stare at Nanami – you certainly hadn't expected him to ask you that.  

Just as Nanami opens his mouth to apologize again, you cut him off.  

"I'd love to." 

With cheeks dusted pink and a smile that could only be compared to a lovesick fool, Nanami glances up at you, feeling his chest warm at the sight of your dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes.  

< ... > 

"So that's how you and Papa fell in love?" Yuuji tilts his head curiously, biting back his yawn as he nestles further into his comforters. You smile gently at him, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle his hair, threading your fingers through his pink locks.  

"That's exactly how Papa and I fell in love. He took me for coffee that very weekend, and the rest is history," you recall with a lovesick smile plastered onto your face. Yuuji smiles sleepily, a sight that you mentally commit to memory.  

"I'm happy you and Papa met," Yuuji whispers adorably, yawning again before his heavy eyes finally flutter shut, exhaustion taking over him. You smile again, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss against his forehead before you stand from his bed. 

You turn your head, jumping at the sight of Nanami standing in the doorframe to Yuuji's bedroom, leaning against it with crossed arms and a gentle smile on his face. "How long were you there for?" Your voice is almost accusatory as you walk into your husband's arms, resting your own around his neck and tracing your fingernails along his nape.  

"Long enough to hear you retell that story for – what – the eighty-fifth time?" Nanami perks an eyebrow at you, leaning down to slot his lips against yours. You hum against his mouth, tugging him a bit closer and biting playfully at his bottom lip.  

He pulls away after a moment, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing against your own, his large hands squeezing playfully at your waist.  

"And every time I tell it, you hang off of my every word, don't you?"  

Nanami smiles, his lips ghosting over your own as he tugs you impossibly closer, your chest pressed flush against his own.  

"That I do." 

[wwooyology]

Shut Up | Y.JW

「pairing」 : bf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.5k

「synopsis」 : something about seeing your boyfriend so pissed off just made you want to push his buttons even more...

「genre」 : smut

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, reader is a brat, choking, mirror sex, angry sex, petnames (sweetheart, princess...), derogatory names (slut), biting/marking, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm denial, clit play, rough sex, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, jungwon is kinda mean, hair pulling, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : when he posted these on weverse I could have sworn I gasped so loud at work that my coworkers were asking if I was okay... I was, in fact, NOT okay, bc do you see him?? the first thought that came into my mind was him and mirror sex... so I give you this drabble/hard thought 😌🤞

You aren't entirely sure what compelled you to push Jungwon's buttons. Maybe it was the scowl he was wearing the moment he walked into the house, yelling at someone on the other side of his phone. Or maybe it was the fact that you had been in a bratty mood all day long and just wanted to push him until he snapped.

It was probably a mixture of both if you were being completely honest.

"y/n, I'm not going to tell you again," his voice was cold as he pulled the phone from his ear, muting the other person. "take your bullshit somewhere else." Then he was right back on the phone, not even sparing you a glance.

Your eyes narrow into slits, arms crossing over your chest. The urge to back talk was strong, but you knew it wouldn't get you anywhere but a possible screaming match, so you opted for the other, more perfect route.

"I'm not gonna tell you again, blah blah blah." you mocked his words as you turned around to leave the living room, missing the dark stare you were getting from your boyfriend. "Whatever, I'm going to take a shower."

Jungwon didn't have to see your face to know that you had rolled your eyes; the tone of your voice was more than enough of a tale-tell sign. His eye twitched as he watched you walk away, still mocking what he had said, your fingers opening and closing as if you were using a sock puppet. However, what set him off was the last few words you spoke before disappearing into the bedroom.

"what the fuck ever, asshole."

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he listened to his friend talk. However, before too long, Jungwon told him that he would call him later before hanging up and throwing the phone onto the couch.

Standing on his feet, he made his way towards the bedroom, pushing the door open. Walking inside, he looked over to see the bathroom door wide open and you standing at the counter finishing your skincare routine.

Sensing his eyes on your body, you turned your head to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Finally, decide to stop being an ass?" you asked, trying to bite back the smirk that was tugging on your lips. however, the glare that morphed on his face told you that you had finally gotten under his skin, "guess not."

Rolling your eyes, you turn back towards the mirror, reaching for your toothbrush. Before you could even wrap your fingers around it, Jungwon stalked towards you in quick strides, hand grabbing the back of your neck and pushing your body flat on the marble countertop.

"Is this just some game to you?" His voice was low as he grabbed the hem of your shorts with his other hand. "Pushing all of my fucking buttons, and for what?"

A loud whine fell from your lips when his hand came down, landing a harsh smack on your ass. His fingers dug into the plump fat, watching the skin turn a rosy red.

"Won-"

"Shut up," he growled, moving his hand to undo the button of his jeans before shoving them down along with his boxers, allowing his hard cock to spring free.

The feeling of his top prodding your dripping slit makes a choked whimper fall from your lips. Jungwon scoffed at the feeling of how wet you had become.

"Did fucking with me really make you this wet?" He chuckled darkly, slipping his tip into your tight walls, "such a dirty fucking slut."

Then he pushed into you all at once, not giving you even a moment to adjust before he was slamming into your cunt mercilessly. His harsh movements stole all of the air from your lungs, leaving you a whining mess, tears falling from your eyes due to the immense pleasure.

"Fuck." Jungwon groaned before releasing his hold on your neck, only to tangle his fingers in your hair, tugging your head up and eliciting a loud moan from your lips. "Look at yourself, sweetheart. Is this what you wanted?" You whined, opening your teary eyes to watch as Jungwon continued to fuck into you.

You tried your best to keep your eyes on the mirror, watching Jungwon's eyebrows scrunch together every time you squeezed around him or how taunt his jaw was from the annoyance and frustration. When he brushed over your sweet spot, a choked moan of his name slipped from your lips as your eyes squeezed shut.

"Uh huh, princess, open those eyes." Jungwon seethed, delivering a peculiarly hard thrust, making you cry out. However, when you didn't open your eyes, he slowed to a stop.

"No... won, plea-"

"Keep your fucking eyes open and on the mirror, or you won't get to cum slut." his tone was harsh as he tugged on your hair, prompting you to open your eyes and meet his burning gaze through the mirror.

And just like that, he continued his brutal pace, fucking into your abused pussy until you were a trembling, crying mess in his hold.

"F-Fuck won!" you cried out when the head of his cock nudged your cervix, making stars dance across your vision.

Jungwon hissed when your cunt squeezed him tightly, "Don't you dare cum until I tell you to." He growled, tugging your body up more until your back was pressed against his chest. His fingers released your locks before encasing your throat once more.

A broken whine fell from your throat as he squeezed, head falling back onto his shoulder and your eyes rolling. His lips nipped at your jaw as his pace slowed once more, making your body shake, the pleasure being ripped away once more.

"What did I fucking say," he growled right next to your ear, warm breath fanning your flushed neck.

Incoherent whimpers and apologies fell from your plump lips as you tried to keep your eyes open. Jungwon smirked at you through the reflective glass, loving the tears that decorated your pretty face. Squeezing your throat just a bit more, he got a choked moan from your parted lips before he picked up his relentless pace.

The coil in your gut tightened to unimaginable levels, ready to snap at any given moment. Your legs started to shake, and your body felt like it was ready to burst.

"Wonnie! I wanna cum, please," you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes finding him through your hazy vision.

Jungwon chucked darkly; his fingers that were on your hip moved to toy with your puffy clit sending shockwaves throughout your body. A choked scream tore from your lungs. There was no way you were going to be able to hold off, not at this rate.

Opening your mouth to plead for him to let you cum, you were cut off by the feeling of his teeth sinking into your neck. A loud cry erupted from your mouth, almost pushing you over the edge.

Jungwon loved seeing you try so hard to keep your orgasm at bay, wanting to please him even after acting like a brat for the last half of the day. He then pressed his tongue flat over the puncture wounds, soothing the pain a bit before pressing hot and wet kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

A sharp groan fell from his lip as he felt his own orgasm building up. The way your silly walls were squeezing him drove him up a wall, wanting nothing more than to stay in your slick heat.

"Won! fuck, fuck, fuck!" the word fell from your lips like a mantra as his fingers on your clit picked up their pace. Your eyes rolled once more, pushing more tears to drop down your flushed cheeks.

"Cum for me slut." Jungwon growled against your skin, and your whole body started to tremble in his hold as your orgasm washed over you.

Soundless moans and pitiful squeaks fell from your lips as he continued his hard thrusts, his fingers never leaving your clit, prolonging your orgasm until he was spilling deep into your womb.

The two of you stood there breathless, Jungwon's hands being the only thing keeping you up, seeing as your legs felt like jelly. If he were to let go, you'd collapse onto the ground.

Jungwon chuckled before laying soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder up to your jaw. Then he had you turned around and sat on top of the counter, your hands squeezing his broad shoulders.

"Don't think we're done yet," he smirked at the look of surprise on your fucked out face. Grabbing your jaw tightly, he pulled your face close to his, lips merely inches away from yours. "Because I still have a lot of frustration left." Then he sealed your lips with his in a searing kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs once more.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[demonic0angel]

OWO, you take prompts? How about this?

Danny was born a premature and with a heart defect. The Fenton's try to make a clone so they can get his heart transplanted without fear of organ rejection. But they end up making a full on baby and don't have it in them to kill another version of their son just to save their original boy. Danny ends up pulling through and the clone gets filed as a twin that no one noticed was still in when Maddie was in the hospital. So Maddie "had him at home" and went back so he could be medically examined. The new parents feel ashamed of what they initially were going to do and give the child to a cousin who couldn't conceive.

Tim Drake doesn't know he's adopted until a DNA test reveals that the 'Meta' running around Gotham is his 'twin brother'. And the babies he has, that he does babysitting gigs with, are his twin's 'children'.

(I don’t exactly take prompts, but I don’t mind if you send them. Also, I’m going to assume that the twin’s “children” are Dan and Dani, since that seems to be what people prefer.)

“… are you serious?” Tim asked through the phone.

“Yep,” Dick said, sounding like a mixture of amusement and concern, “How do you feel about it?”

Tim thought about it and then responded, “I guess it makes sense why my parents neglected me so much, since I’m adopted.”

“Awww, baby bird…”

“I’m fine, Dick,” Tim said. He picked Dante and set him on a baby chair. Said child stared at him with electric blue eyes, scowling with his pudgy cheeks as if he wanted to tear Tim apart with his nonexistent teeth. Tim rubbed his chubby cheek with a finger before moving away, still holding the phone to his ear as he picked up the other baby.

Dick continued, “Yeah… also, Bruce says that he’s sorry that he checked your blood without telling you.”

Tim snorted, “No, he didn’t.” Bruce was never sorry for that kind of stuff.

Dick sighed. “Yeah, I lied. Sorry. But he did look guilty! He didn’t want to tell you at first, but Jason convinced him so I’m the one telling you right now.”

Tim hummed, picking up little Ella, who was stubbornly holding onto a small cardboard box. Tim let her hold it and placed her onto the baby chair next to her brother, who immediately reached out for her. It was kinda funny seeing how clingy he was compared to his sister.

“We have more information too. We tracked down the new meta and we’ve been looking into his routes. We suspect that he’s living around here, in Bristol,” Dick said. “We think he’s living in an apartment, at XXX on XXXX street, possibly with a roommate named Jazz.”

Tim paused, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was in the same building, babysitting a bunch of kids on the same street, who also lived with another woman named Jazz. “Uhh. What else?”

“We think he lives on the third floor and possibly also works at a pizza delivery place? Or maybe a fast food restaurant? He’s been flying back and forth between two places besides the apartment.”

Tim began to sweat. “Uh… anything else?”

“There’s a high chance that his name is Danny Nightingale, and Jasmine Nightingale is in on the fact that he’s a meta.”

Fuck.

Tim looked at his niece and nephew with a new light, eyes wide. Ella beamed at him, giggling while Dante just glared.

Welp. At least Bruce would be happy to be a grandfather now. Even if it was to Tim’s secret meta twin brother.

[starkeysbunny]

the cut that always bleeds

pairing - rafe x thorton!reader

summary - when topper throws a party at your house, you hide in your room this time. you couldn't face rafe, you couldn't do it. and when you get too curious, you see him with the source of your breakup. but somehow, the cuts always get bandaged up, and he's right back in your arms.

warnings - cursing, breakups, toxic lowkey, lots of angst yall srry i love angsty shit

i purse my lips, sitting on the balcony outside my room as my eyes wander over the party downstairs. my brother topper was throwing a party, but i opted to stay up here.

topper’s best friend is my ex, rafe. and it was less than desirable for me to see him just a month after we broke up. i had avoided him this long, and i’d like to keep it that way.

my fingers tap against my cheek in boredom as i stare below. i see topper cheering kelce as he does a handstand on the keg. people making out, jumping in the pool.

then, in the very corner of the party—i spot rafe. and he’s with someone. a girl. she turns her head over her shoulder as she laughs obnoxiously at one of his jokes. sofia.

i groan, rolling my eyes. i lean back and watch as he has a smug smile on his face, enjoying her over-the-top reactions to his every move.

we barely broke up three weeks ago. he couldn’t be a little heartbroken?

i feel a tear fall down my cheek and sigh. “fuck.” i mutter under my breath. i quickly wipe the tears and stand from the balcony, going back into my room.

—

rafe cameron

my eyes are on sofia as she laughs, but when she turns slightly, my eyes flick to the girl they really want to see. i look up at the balcony, seeing y/n sitting up there, away from the party.

her eyebrows are furrowed together, that pouty look on her face i grew to love. i notice her wipe her cheek—was she crying? then she gets up, and walks inside. i press my lips together, my eyes remaining on the now closed balcony doors.

“rafe!” i look down at the feeling of sophia’s hand on my arm. she giggles. “what’re you looking at?”

my eyes flick back up to the doors. “nothing.” i mumble. “you know what, i-i’ll be right back.” i brush her off, pushing past her without another word.

i started talking to sophia at the party for one purpose. to make y/n jealous. and i did that. but it didn’t make me feel how i thought it would. i didn’t feel pride, or smug. i felt like an asshole.

i hated seeing her cry. even if we had broken up. and.. it was also my fault. fuck. i’m an idiot.

“yo, where you goin’ man?” topper chuckles, patting my shoulder as i go to head inside.

“uh.. getting another beer.” i make up a lie.

topper furrowed his eyebrows, then seemed to sober up with a single sigh. “man, she doesn’t wanna see you. that’s why she’s up there. leave her be.” topper says, his protective brother voice kicking in.

i roll my eyes. “i-i just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“rafe—“

“no.” i say firmly, looking directly at topper. “i’m gonna make sure she’s okay, alright?” i spit.

topper rolls his eyes. “whatever, bro. but if she asks me to throw you out, i’m throwin’ you out.”

“whatever.” i dismiss, heading inside and up the stairs. a route that was once an instinct.

—

i sat at the edge of my bed, my fingers brushing over the heart locket in my hand. the locket rafe gave me. there was an ‘r’ engraved on the front of the gold piece. and inside, was a small picture of us.

i don’t know why i kept it. maybe some stupid small hope, that we’d get back together. but i knew that wasn’t true. it was more of a damaging thought, than a healing one.

my head looks up as i hear a knock on my door. “topper?” i call out.

there’s silence for a moment, i gently put down the locket, getting up slowly to approach the door.

“n-no.” a muffled voice comes out, and i recognize it right away. “it’s rafe.”

i freeze, unable to move. i don’t know what to do. do i open it, listen to him? do i tell him to fuck off? do i throw him out? do i ignore him?

“look, i-i just… fuck.” i hear him mutter, trying to find the words to say. i knew him so well. too well. i knew what he was thinking. he couldn’t get the words out. he’s not good at expressing how he feels, putting it into words.

i stay silent, giving him the room to speak. i remain unmoving, not making a sound.

“i wanted to check on you.” he breathes out.

i hear the door creak slightly as he leans against it. he sighs, using my silence as room to vent. maybe part of him hoped i wasn’t even in here. maybe talking to my door was.. closure.

“i saw you up here all alone i just.. you should come down. the party is fun..” he huffs a chuckle then. “no, no it’s not. you know i hate that shit. i don’t even know why i came..”

i sigh, feeling tears brim in my eyes the more i listen to his voice. the voice i used to hear in the mornings when i woke up. whether he was here or not, he'd call me, just to say good morning. i take a deep shaken breath as he continues to talk.

"i know you saw sophia and i, alright? b-but, fuck she means nothing y/n. it was fucking stupid, i just wanted to make you jealous. i-i don't know why, because i'm the one who fucked up and lost you in the first place."

i take a seat on the edge of my bed, feeling tears fall down my cheeks as my hand covers my mouth to hide any sobs. it was his fault.

a month before we broke up, he lost his dad. and i tried to be there for him, but he'd push me away. i was understanding, because he was grieving. then, one day i was at the country club and i saw him venting to sophia.

she was working the bar, serving him and other customers drinks. and he was expressing his feelings to her about his dad. when i was there, coming to tannyhill to make sure he was okay, and he'd tell me to go away. and here he was, pouring his feelings out to the girl at the bar.

"i'm sorry, i just, i kept pushing you away because i didn't want you to see me like that." he admits.

at this, i stand up, going to the door and opening it. he almost falls over, staggering over his feet as he was leaning against the door. i press my lips together to try not to laugh as he stands back up, brushsing his hands over his shirt.

"you didn't want me to see you like that, but you didn't care if she did?" i say, my voice breaking.

"yeah, cause she's a fuckin' stranger. she wasn't my girl, who i value so fuckin' much." he sighs, his head dipping down slightly to meet my eyeline. "i-i know it doesn't make any sense. i should want to open up to you, but i just didn't want you to think any less of me."

his dad raised him to think men didn't cry, men weren't weak, instilling the phrase 'man up' deep into his vocabulary. so, i understand why he had those reservations to open up. but, it's the fact that he went to her, of all people. and she stood at the bar, nursing his whiskey while her hand gently rubbed his arm and she looked at him with bambi eyes.

it hurt.

i sniffle, tears falling down my cheeks. "why her though? what about her was so much more comforting and trusting than your own fucking girlfriend, rafe!" my voices raises slightly in pain, and i take a deep breath, turning so my back was facing him.

"baby—"

"don't." i snap, turning back to him. "don't call me that, don't do that."

he sighs in frustration, his hand coming up to his head and clenching in and out of a fist.

i sigh, rolling my eyes. "what'd you come up here to say, what do you want?"

his eyes soften and he pauses, looking over my features. "to—to i don't know, i was worried. i saw you up here i-i couldn't just—“

"rafe, you don't get to be worried." i sigh, turning around and going to sit on my bed.

he runs a hand over his hair, his jaw clenching. "i'm sorry, okay? i-i don't care about her, alright? everytime i look at her, i just wish she was you."

i scoff. "wow, that's music to my ears." i say sarcastically.

he rolls his eyes. "alright, c'mon, you know i'm not good at this shit."

"no, please continue telling me how you are with someone else but think about me while you fuck her."

he groans. "y/n, that's not what i fucking said! that's not what i meant, at all! you know that!"

i roll my eyes, throwing my arms up at my sides. i stand from the bed. "you think that makes me feel good?" i scoff. "hearing you say you regret everything and that she means nothing? that you look at her and think of me? you think that makes me forgive you?"

"no, no of course not--"

"why couldn't you just come to me?" i ask, my voice breaking. "i tell you everything, because i trust you. you know everything about me. and you couldn't open up to me about your grief? but you could open up to someone you don't even know?" tears slip down my cheeks as my eyebrows furrow. i look up at him confused, just trying to understand.

"i-i don't know. it was fucking stupid alright? i guess i-i was just embarassed. i wanted to be strong for you, and i wasn't." he sighs, his voice breaks the slightest bit. "look, i-i can't fuckin' be without you, alright. this has been the worst month of my life, baby. please. even if it kills me, i need you. even if it kills you. i can't breathe without you."

i hiccup through tears, my eyes not leaving his at his confession. my breathing slows. i notice his eyes tear up, something i've never seen from him before. i study his eyes as they water. searching for lies, for manipulation, but it wasn't there. he doesn't lie to me, he never does. even though he makes shitty choices, even though he is so bad for me, he's never once lied to me.

"i can't let you go. even if i should. i know i'm a shitty boyfriend, alright? but, i-i'm tryin' okay? i'm fucking trying. i know i don't deserve you. i know i should let you go, but i can't. no one can care about you like i do. even if they're better for you, they'll never care and protect you like i do."

i take a deep, shaken breath. it was true. how could we be so bad for each other, but not want anyone else? i say i hate him, but it's not true. how can you hate and love someone at the same time? it hurts, but it hurts so good.

"rafe.." i sniffle, my voice cracking.

"don't cry, please. i hate seein' you cry." he steps closer to me till he's right in front of me. and he does what i least expected. he gets on his knees right in front of me. his hands find their home on my hips as he clings to me like a vice. "please." he whispers. "i promise, i'll try to be better. i-i'll talk to you. i do trust you, okay? i was just scared."

a sob escapes my lips as i look down at him, my hand naturally coming to the back of his neck. no matter what, we always came back. every time. our wounds were ripped open over and over again by each other. then every single time, a few weeks later, we'd come back and kiss them better.

my hand moves from the back of his neck to his cheek, my thumb moving against the skin gingerly. "okay." i whisper through tears.

and once again, we bandaged up the cut that always bleeds.

[luveline]

Hi lovely!

Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?

He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️

💘

for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k

cw implied past domestic violence 

“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!” 

“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.” 

You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.” 

“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–” 

“You've done worse,” you deny.

His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.” 

“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say. 

The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained. 

“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.” 

“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–” 

“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity. 

You're really quite close to each other. 

It's not his fault. 

You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge. 

Your heartbeat soars. 

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. 

“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes. 

“I'm not mad,” he says. 

“You sounded pretty mad."

“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says. 

You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."

“You thought I might.” 

“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.” 

“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.” 

“But you knew that already, didn't you?” 

Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened. 

“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say. 

Hotch just shakes his head at you. 

“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“I can still do my job.” 

“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.” 

Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in. 

“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side. 

You stare resolutely at your shoes. 

“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads. 

You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained. 

His hand slides open down the length of your back.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone. 

“It's not like it was really you that scared me.” 

The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain. 

He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands. 

“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall. 

Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say. 

He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you. 

You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing. 

[zhenne]

watching from afar | route one : a confrontation

[ intro ]

syn. perhaps it’s time Sylus gives you irrefutable proof of his intentions, and to show you he’s more dependable than that doctor friend of yours thinks.

wc. 3.5k

warnings. smut!! (mdni), i’m gonna just say dubcon bc yea, probably ooc, rough start (i don’t like it tbh), jealousy!, mentions of alcohol, car sex, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, kitten, baby), cowgirl, clothed sex, bit of dry humping, fingering, making out, sylus comes on your stomach/thighs, he’s a lil nasty (as a treat), teensy bit of begging, face & throat holding (no choking), marking

a/n. ngl i feel like this is pretty rushed, but idk man

now playing : all mine

“I’ll be back soon, have fun.” 

With one final measuring glance at the doctor, Sylus left you in Zayne’s care.

Zayne was a pleasant companion for the remainder of the evening. His dry humor and effortless wit kept your voice breathless with hushed fits of laughter. You were nursing your fourth drink of the evening when you notice Zayne’s relaxed posture shift as an undeniable presence calmly stepped behind you.

Cheerful, and a little tipsy, you turn on your barstool to face Sylus. With warm, rosy cheeks, you beam up at him, ready to explain the comical story Zayne had just finished, “Oh! Sylus, Sylus- you won’t believe-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your fun, but we’re leaving, Sweetheart.” His firm tone cuts you off. 

You sit up a little bit straighter, brows pinched together, “Did the meeting not go well?”

Sylus’ eyes narrow, looking right past you as they land on the man sat a little too close to you for his liking. Crimson irises flick back to you, studying your slightly flushed appearance. “We can talk in the car.”

Immediately, you knew what that decisive, low utterance dispatched. He was pissed. Seething.

Sliding off your chair, you turn to give Zayne a small bow, smiling as you thank him, “Your company was refreshing, thank you for treating me with your presence.”

—-

The walk to the car was painfully silent. Any tipsy glee you had earlier was gone, replaced by a sobering disquiet. You kept your hands clasped tightly in front of you as you followed just behind Sylus’ striding gait, your own heeled feet barely able to keep up. Your lips were pressed into a thin line. Sylus’ aura radiated quiet fury and your mind careened with thoughts of what must’ve happened during his meeting. 

Did the other man not show up? Maybe he sent a representative Sylus had a previous resentment with? Or did the deal fall through, perhaps? Is it likely that the terms didn’t go in Sylus’ favor-

You’re pulled from your thoughts by your face colliding with a solid wall of muscle. You swallow. The black suit jacket on Sylus’ back obscures your vision, the musk of his cologne invading your senses. He turns to face you, angling his head so that it tilted in a manner that could only be described as penetrative. You wait for him to say something, anything that could hint at the cause of his calloused mood. You get nothing of the sort as he opens the passenger door for you.

To your surprise, he doesn’t slam it after you climb into the seat. If anything, he’s unnervingly silent. There’s something controlled, measured about this anger. And that finding only serves to confound you even more.

You wait until the car is speeding down the freeway to try your luck again. “Wha-”

“Did you have fun?” For an innocent question to be asked in such a forbidding tone, a chill tickles your nape. 

Your fingers nervously pinch the material of your dress, rolling the silk between the pads of your fingertips. Was he upset you didn’t go to the meeting with him? “You know I’m more of a hindrance than a help in those sort of mee-”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Did you have fun with your friend?”

Oh. A piece of this intricate puzzle clicks into your brain. Oh. “You’re jealous.” You don’t even realize you whispered your discovery aloud. 

Sylus chuckles, though it’s void of his usual mirth. “And what was it you introduced me as?...” His eyes narrowed in thought as the car merged onto the road that would take you back to the lawless city of perpetual darkness. “Your colleague, wasn’t it?” You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then, in a moment of brazen stupidity, you mutter, “Is there a problem with my terminology?” Your own challenge, albeit your voice came out far too hesitant to be properly deemed a threat.

The way he looks at you, every ounce of his stare cold and measured, reminded you of your first meeting – reminded you that there was more than one side to the enigma that is the leader of Onychinus. Instantly, you feel regret weighing heavy on your tongue. You want to backpedal, try again at defending yourself.

You don’t get the chance to scramble together some poor excuse before he’s steering the car into the underground garage of a vacant lot. The transmission shifts into parked and the keys are pulled from the ignition as you and Sylus sit in the silent cab of the car, your eyes searching his side profile. The silence is stifling.

“Are you going to talk to me, or just sulk?” You finally murmur with a growing irritation. 

Sylus’ head falls back against the headrest. Finally, his gaze slides to you, the corners of his lips twitch with a frown, and you feel the edges of your frustration slowly ebb away. 

“What did you two discuss during my absence?”

“Hm? Nothing, really..” You hesitate. Sure, Zayne may have asked how you met the enigma that is Sylus, and you may have given a few glossed-over fabrications. And yeah, maybe your childhood friend revealed in passing that perhaps Sylus may not be the best influence, but that would constitute ‘nothing’, right? 

Sylus is nothing if not perceptive. He picks up on your hesitation clear as day. “What did he say?” His voice finds its usual timbre, a gravelly rumble that stirred something within you.

You were backed into a corner, tongue tied as Sylus’ situated his elbow atop the console, his face leaning into your space with acute attention. “Tell me, kitten,” … “Is this ‘Doctor Zayne’ of yours really just your doctor? Because I saw a hint of something that wanted to tell me otherwise.”

Your face warms at the insinuation in Sylus’ perceptive eyes, caught off guard by the sudden accusation. “I.. I mean, we grew up together, but- but it’s not- he wouldn’t-” you take a steadying breath, a futile attempt to quell your rapid heart rate. “Me and Zayne? I-It just doesn’t make any sense-”

“Oh no, I see it – the appeal,” he reaffirms, “he is handsome, well-established, smart.. And seems to care an awful lot..” he trails off, his smirk only growing as your brows pinch together at the open-ended insinuation. 

“But he never has time for you, does he? Dedication to one’s work means less attention to those that really matter.” You’re silent, face hot as you hold your breath, Sylus’ smirk only growing when he sees you ensnared in his provoking web. “You should call me when your ‘friend’ is too occupied to make time for you. I can at least promise not to leave such a pretty girl disappointed.” 

The air in the car feels stifling as you gape up at Sylus, his eyes now shining with a dark gleam. His hand slips into your space, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek before his palm cradles your jaw, forcing you to hold his gaze as he angles his face a breath away from yours. 

Finally, you manage to choke out a whispered retort. “Zayne.. Zayne doesn’t see me like that. He’s just a friend-”

“Just a friend?” He rolls his eyes at your empty logic. “Oh, please.” He practically hums. “He’s so obvious. You’re telling me you didn’t see the way he admired you tonight? Didn’t notice how his eyes practically undressed you, how his hands twitched with the desire to lay claim?” His voice drops an octave, the low rumble of his chest purely seductive as he murmurs, “How he wishes it was his bedroom floor your dress falls to?” You watch with a pulsing heart as Sylus’ eyes flit to your slightly parted lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a proud smirk at your undoubtedly flustered expression. “I also saw the way those same eyes glared at me, resenting me for taking the one thing he wanted most.”

There’s a self-imposed reticence. You’re frozen in your seat.

“Nothing to say?” He blinks down at you when you fail to form a coherent thought, the cockiness in his tone only making you dizzier. “Perhaps you wanted that too?”

At that, you’re able to manage a weak shake of your head, and it only makes Sylus’ wicked grin grow. “Tell me this at least, are we really just ‘colleagues’ in your eyes?”

You lick your lips, head spinning when you finally let out a shaky breath. “I-.. We…” You feel as though surges of energy are rippling beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight and subsequently frying any semblance of intelligible logic. 

A calloused thumb trails down your jaw before gently grasping your chin, forcing your face up so your lips just barely brushed against his as he whispers, “Just know, regardless of what you say, I’ll still fuck you.” 

Swelling heat thrummed through your veins, catching in your breath and erupting in your stomach. Your thighs squeeze together with a rush of embarrassment as you feel a slick pool of heat stain the thin material of your panties, no doubt soaking through to the seat below. 

Zayne’s words from earlier ring in your deluded mind as Sylus slips a warm hand atop your thigh. ‘Please, be careful with who you trust’, the doctor had muttered in his stoic voice, ‘I wouldn’t want someone corrupting Linkon’s favorite Hunter’. 

You can already picture Zayne’s disappointment, but Sylus tastes like expensive whiskey and tobacco.

It’s possessive, the way Sylus kisses you, like he was afraid you’d slip away should his hands leave you. You shift in your seat as his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. A breathy groan has your cunt fluttering around nothing as he licks his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your jaw cupping your cheek to hold you still. Neither of you shy away as it grows messier, needier. And it’s unbearably hot, the way he grips your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress up to bunch around your hips. He doesn’t pause the assault on your lips as his fingers tentatively brush over your soaked panties, the thin material made sheer as it clings to your folds. 

Sylus breaks the kiss, chest softly heaving as he looks down at you, his eyes glazed with raw desire. He lets out a low growl, accompanied by the slick click of his fingertip teasing your arousal. "God, Sweetheart..." He murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

Without warning, he’s pulling you over the console, your knees bracketing his hips. His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your breast and the dip of your waist before settling on your thighs, spreading them apart to grant himself full access to your cunt.

"Let's see how responsive you are to a real man's touch." He teases, grinding his cock into your slick folds through his slacks. 

Your hand grips his shoulder, desperate for something to stabilize you as the rough material of his pants brush agonizingly perfect against your throbbing clit. “F-Fuck..” you whimper as your other hand gathers your dress, giving both you and Sylus unobstructed view of the lewd performance. It felt sinfully good, as pathetic as it might sound, to be dry humping your (so-called) friend in his car like a couple of horny teenagers. 

This position offered you a front row seat to the debauched expression coloring Sylus’ usually smug face, a sight that only served to fuel your growing desire. He must've felt your peering eyes on him, because not even a moment later, a hand holds your throat, pulling you down for another hungry kiss. This one had no preamble, only a primal mesh of heat and tongue. You whine when he pulls away in favor of trailing searing kisses down the side of your neck, teeth occasionally nipping at the skin before he sucks a mark in the junction of your shoulder. 

You grind your hips downard, circling the hardening bulge in his pants with a breathy gasp, your hand tracing down the muscled panes of his stomach. Eyes roll back into your head when Sylus bucks up into your heat with a chuckle. He parts from your neck, his lips shining with spit as he takes in your disheveled appearance. 

“Would you rather it be your doctor friend making you feel like this?” 

A challenge? A jealous provocation? You aren’t quite sure what fuels it, but you’re unabashed as you whimper, “No.. No.”

Sylus wets his lips, the palm on your throat now holding your face millimeters from his, “Who do you want to fuck you? Whose cock do you want to stretch out your little cunt right now?”

You can barely look at him straight with the way those filthy words slipped so effortlessly from his mouth. “Y-You..” you choke out. “Want your cock, Sy..”

Your eyes blink shut, missing the smug grin that graced Sylus’ reddening features. You're about to drag your hips along the seam of his slacks again when a firm hold on your hips halts you halfway. You’re panting, watching with a lidded gaze as he pulls his cock, red and leaking from his pants. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the vein running down the twitching length. 

Your hand begins to reach out, but a larger one gently smacks it away. You find his crimson eyes, your pulse echoing loudly in your ears as the hands on your hips angle you slightly. Your shoulder blades rest against the top of the steering wheel, your back arched, and hands gripping whatever purchase they could find as you finally felt the heat of his dick brush against you.

He barely lifts a finger before a thin wisp of red and inky mist swirl at his touch, shredding through your panties without so much as a sound. You glance down just in time to witness as the ruined garment falls from your body, a mess of your arousal clinging to the maroon material as a string of iridescent slick stretched and snapped. 

It was pornographic, the way Sylus groaned at the sight. “I haven’t even touched you yet..” Your eyes glaze over as two fingers tease your dripping slit, the wet clicking sounds only fueling his exploration. “Fuck..” a husky moaned followed as he slipped the two fingers into your warm, welcoming heat. “F-uck… darling,” he experimentally strokes his fingertips, quickly brushing against the spot that has you panting his name with choked breaths. “Ah..” he breathes out, “There it is..”

His fingertips continue to stroke with a rhythmic press of his palm against your clit. You felt so hot, so unbearably turned on it was starting to hurt. “Please- oh please, Sy- Sylus, please, oh fuck-” you felt like your chest was on fire, burning you from the inside out. 

“Come on my fingers,” he growls against your lips, nose brushing against yours, “show me you pretty you look, let me see how badly you want my cock.” Finally, he brings his thumb to stroke tight circles against your clit.

Your body tenses, muscles taut as your nails threaten to leave crescent scars along his arm. Your head falls back with a wanton moan, thighs trembling as you coat his hand and lap with a pool of your release. You feel dazed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of euphoria he so easily led you to. 

Sylus was far from done with you yet. His leaking red cock stood hard and ready, hot against the wet skin of your thigh. He pulls you in by the column of your throat, planting a languid kiss to your lips, his pace slow and intent on enjoying the feeling of you pliant to his touch. “I’m going to ruin you.”

You barely hear it, let alone hardly make out his muttered promise. It doesn’t click until he breathes out against your swollen lips, his eyes piercing straight through you, “I’m going to show them you already have a lover.” 

Your lashes flutter as his grip tightens, sliding the leaking head of his cock through your dripping folds, just barely teasing your entrance as you whine his name, your own hips stuttering in his hold. Only when he finally – finally – has his fill of teasing you, of seeing you whimpering and clawing at his shoulder with quiet pleas of ‘more, please Sy, fuck me’, does he actually start fucking you like you’ve been craving.

“Fuck.. so fuckin’ tight, baby..” he groans as his thick dick slowly breaches you, the blunt head just barely making it through your tight ring of muscle before you’re keening with a loud, obscene whine. “Relax, kitten,” he drawls out, though he isn’t faring much better. 

You’re little cunt is sucking him in like a vice, and it takes every sliver of self control not to fuck up into your tight heat. His jaw ticks as he peers up at you perched on his lap, quivering and moaning from just the tip of his cock. 

Sylus leans up slightly, catching the breathy gasp that slips from you at the minor shift in angle. Warm lips spur more harmonies to spill from you as he kisses any section of skin he could see. The corner of your mouth, your cheek, jaw, neck and shoulder would all be littered with balmy breaths as he leaves marks sure to linger for days. You feel yourself relax into his hold, eyes threatening to fall shut as he haltingly bottoms out.

Fully sheathed inside your pulsing cunt, you both groan as you search for his lips, mutually swallowing the sounds of unadulterated pleasure when a strong pair of hands gently lift your hips a fraction, testing the waters before they drop you back down, your hips flush with his naval. You’re giddy with bliss, whimpering as your puffy clit drags along his happy trail in a way that has stars bursting in your vision.

“Shit-” you whine, feeling the curve of his cock press deeper into you with each thrust. Your head falls back, nearly resting atop the steering wheel, but Sylus is intent on watching you fall apart. His hand holds your jaw, thumb and finger squishing your cheeks slightly as your glazed eyes meet his, something primal and hungry swirling deep within the crimson depths. 

“Eyes on me, baby.”

You’re close. And you can tell he is too with the way his breathing is growing erratic, his neck flushing a pretty pink to match the tips of his ears. Your eyes flutter, a heavy fever settling in your stomach. The squelching noises become louder, more erotic the hotter this fever becomes, surely soaking into the seat below his lap. Your kiss bitten lips gape in an attempt to warn of your approaching climax, but you can scarcely hold back the choked moans as Sylus shushes you, his grip pulling you closer to his face as he grinds his hips into yours.

You come with a hoarse whine, your hands and thighs trembling as he continues to drag your orgasmic haze out for a few more seconds before you feel him pull out, making quick work with his hand as his cock paints your cunt and thighs a pretty sheen of white. 

You stare down at the mess, a filthy mixture of your own release and his lazily dripping down your skin. He lifts his hips slightly, tucking himself back into his slacks before his hands smooth down the bunched skirt of your dress. Panting softly, you try to steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder. You’re about to climb off his lap to crawl out of the car, but he tsks, holding you still with a hand on your waist. 

Your questioning protest stops short once you see Sylus examining your dress with a scrutinizing frown. His free hand holds up a stretch of the garment, and you can make out the faint blotches of stains darkening the material. He studies the blemished spot with an appraising hum.

“Perhaps I should have you wear this at the next event… That should satiate your friend’s interest, no?”

You swat a hand at his chest, blushing and indignant at the teasing lilt in his voice. If you knew anything about Sylus, his mirth always held some fraction of truth, and the mere thought of wearing a dress sullied with come made your skin crawl.

“You’re disgusting!-”

Sylus catches your wrist before your balled fist could make contact with his chest again, a gleam in his eyes that exudes pure satisfaction. “And you’re mine for the rest of the evening… any objections?”

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Running Late

You had never really been in shape, it was only natural that you avoided certain places around here, then. Places like the gym and most notably... the park. It was especially bad in late fall, that was when your local college started up track. So... what did you do? Same thing you always did, avoid it to the best of your ability.

Unfortunately for you, your abilities weren't quite good enough to stop fate from intervening. As usual you began your morning commute. It was simple and you liked the nice cool morning air, especially in the fall. Unfortunately... there was construction. You didn't know about it and now you would be late. This was going to be awful...

Your job wasn't amazing but it paid well enough. One other thing... you had been late quite a bit before... you were on one of your last strikes. So what would you do now? You called your boss, telling them you would be late due to construction... just hoping they would understand. Of course, they did not. They told you to go right to their office when you came in. Nothing good about that. So frustrated, you began walking absentmindedly to your better route... You hadn't thought this through.

When getting to the park you realized it too late, especially with the help of some dumb guy walking up to you. Right at the entrance. He wore a pair of athletic shorts that showed off his physique. He looked a bit upset but hard to tell through his shades. "What? Are you one of the people trying out for track? You're late." He looked you up and down. You looked angry, he looked annoyed... nothing good would come out of this.

You sighed and looked at him, "Look, I'm late for-"

He nodded. "Alright alright, I can tell you're late. What's your name? Gavin? Okay, Gavin we're running through the park and nature trail. If you can make it through that in... thirty minutes or less you're on the team."

"What? No you didn-" Again you didn't get to finish before he blew the whistle in your face. Instinctively and oddly you began running. Maybe it was to get out of the situation or maybe something else... Either way you ran. It was tough, you were huffing and puffing as your arms swayed side to side. Your chest was heaving with every labored movement. Your shoes were definitely not cut out for this.

As you kept going you started cussing, it helped you through the pain. Just a bit further and you could get out of the park... You kept running and running. Cussing out your boss, cussing out your co-workers, cussing out your job. "Fuck this" and "Fuck that" everywhere. With every step, every stride your mouth felt sore, your lips felt numb, your chest burnt. You felt like you were dying... but it also felt relieving. Your chest started to pump out, any fat or saggy man tits getting firm if not a bit jiggly. You were burning fat. Fat turned to muscle. Your chin? Yeah it felt like it was burning but really it was reshaping. You needed better air flow as you ran. Your lips were much softer, your chin was much more manly.

You ran your hands through your hair, unaware of the changes going on in your body. You grew hair on your chest, not much but notable. Your hair, nicely styled for your shitty office job, blew in the wind, shaping to a more... simple and trendy style. Helped and had a little bounce. Your head reshaped a bit too... What was going on?

As you neared the turn to get out you just tossed your jacket off and kept running, right passed it! You tried to stop but your legs wouldn't It was like they needed to run... They were growing more muscular. You were getting more muscular. It was easier to breathe and run now. The movements you were making were better, more fitting of a runner who did this often. But your clothes were so restricting... You took off your shitty shirt and belt... but that still wasn't enough. You went down to your underwear... odd... it was now compression boxer briefs.

Your bulge bounced with every step, it grew in size and smell. You were starting to stink quite a bit... Must be the sweat. The scent was intoxicating. You were having trouble thinking of your job. What was it again? Fuck who cared running felt so good. You had passed like three guys so far! Shows them! And you were late!

Getting past a few more you heard some bros... or... guys? No bros felt way better on the brainage. Well either way they were laughing. By now you had caught up to them. "What's so funny?" Odd... you could hold conversation while laughing. One explained that you were doing better than expected. The other made fun of you for being new. He did mention you were doing well with hazing. Hazing? But you weren't even on the team. But before you knew it one sprinted off.

"Oh fuck no you don't!" You laughed and started to sprint after him. Your body was changing and mind solidifying.... and just as you got to the finish marker. You weren't yourself anymore but who cares. You beat that guy. He even shook your hand.

"Name's Hunter, what's yours rookie?"

He laughed as the coach came up to you. "God damn, Gavin. For someone so late I didn't think you had the grit." He patted your back and handed you a shirt. It was yours yeah? Yeah it had to be.

"Gavin, huh? Yeah I think you'll fit in well on varsity." Hunter smiled and started to walk off. "Think you can take the cooldown?" He smirked, smug of course.

You paused to try and think for a second before laughing and blurting out; "Cool down? I'm hardly done yet, dude!" With that Hunter nodded and you two ran again... Racing... Hunter had found a rival, you found purpose, not if only you could find where you left your pants...

Enjoy your new life, meathead.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You need perfection

TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance

There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.

It's because it is.

Even to the dancers.

Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.

You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.

Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.

You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.

You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.

When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.

If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.

You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.

Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.

It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.

It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.

"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."

You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."

You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.

"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."

You pull the covers off before freezing.

"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Get out!"

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"

You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"

He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.

"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.

"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.

"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."

She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.

Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.

"How was dance?" She asks.

You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."

Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"

"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."

Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.

If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.

If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.

Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.

"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.

He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.

"Give."

You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.

"I'm heading to the studio," You say.

"I'll drive you," Alexia says.

"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."

There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.

It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.

There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.

You love it for the wrong reasons.

You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.

You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.

Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.

All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.

All you can do is dance and dance and-

You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.

You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.

This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.

You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.

She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.

"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"

"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."

Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.

Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.

You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.

"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."

"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," You say.

"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"

"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.

Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"

Your tummy rumbles.

"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."

You wince. "Mami-"

"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."

It's fine, you think.

So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

41 / 3k / soap soulmate au, part 10

...

Gaz's bullet slides neatly into the target's head, folding into his frontal cortex, his hypothalamus, and lodging to a satisfying stop in his brain stem.

Your job is done.

Ignoring the radio chatter between Gaz and Price, you slip away from the dead man. Your boots grind blood and broken glass into the carpet as you go. You should vanish before Soap's team can catch up to you. You head for the opposite corner of the mansion. They don’t have eyes there.

You slide the ground floor window open and pull Soap's radio collar from your neck. You’re about to remove the earpiece when it crackles in your ear. It's Ghost's voice.

"They got Johnny."

You pause. Your teammates are rough, but they won’t kill Johnny. Right? They won’t kill a soldier.

"Where is he?" Price's voice crackles back.

"Basement lounge," Ghost mutters. The radio catches shouting voices in the background.

"Can you get to him?" Price asks.

Gunshots crackle through the earpiece. Ghost curses. "Negative, sir. Too many mercs and he's agitatin' 'em as it is. Might be able to fish him out, but I'd need a better vantage point.”

“Is he in immediate danger?”

“Don’t think so.”

"Then keep yourself hidden, Lieutenant. Kyle and I are en route."

Your stomach twists. Price doesn't sound like he plans to negotiate. You switch the radio's to KorTac's frequency. "Horangi, what's going on?"

There's a long pause before he replies, and several other voices echo underneath his. "Where the hell are you? SAS is fucking up our whole job. The cargo is gone."

You force yourself to get a grip on your own cover story even as you slip through the window and drop silently to the ground. Snow squeaks under your boots. "How did he know about the cargo?" you ask, your voice careful and even.

"I don't know. Shit, maybe someone fed him information. Military dogs love their rats." There's a pause. Horangi's voice sounds more distant as he speaks away from the mic. "Oy, shitbag. Who gave you the intel?”

You let out a breath of relief. Johnny will have no choice but to give them your name in exchange for his freedom. You'll be far, far away before your teammates know you're gone. KorTac won't bother with trying to track you down. It'd be a waste of money. Even if they did, you've disappeared before. You know how not to be found.

It’ll be a clean break for you both.

Then Johnny's voice crackles into your ear through Horangi's mic.

"No rat," he says. You hear him smirking, but a snarl edges the bravado in his voice. "Your security's piss-poor."

What? No. Bad, that's bad. Johnny’s playing at taking the blame. Of course he is. He thinks he's protecting you. Stubborn idiot.

Horangi chuckles. “You want to die here? That can be arranged.”

Something under your sternum clenches. This is your fault. You stare down at the fresh snow in front of you. You can still leave. Your plan never involved seeing him again, and it certainly didn't involve helping him if he got his ass in trouble. But you're the one who told him where the hostages were. He's only in the basement lounge because of you.

With Price and Gaz in the way, and with Ghost seeking a higher vantage point, sniper in hand, your teammates don’t know how much trouble they’re in, either.

Goddamn him. Why can’t he just rat you out? Why can’t he just be as heartless as you are?

You turn and retrace your trek back to the mansion. You don't know what you're going to do to avoid the confrontation at hand and make a clean escape, but maybe you'll come up with something on the way.

...

You slip into the lounge behind your teammates. Soap is on his knees, hands ziptied behind his back with the barrel of Horangi's rifle to his head.

Every last one of your squadmates is here. With you, that's a dozen mercenaries. You check the upper corners, the catwalks—Ghost is nowhere to be found. Of course. There'd be no way for Ghost alone to snipe enough of your teammates in one go to pull Johnny out of this mess. Nor is there any alarm you can pull, no authority you can leverage to get your soulmate out of the position you put him in.

You switch your radio frequency back to 141's secure channel. "Ghost, don't shoot. I can talk them down."

But it's Price's voice that echoes back. "Stay put, love. We'll get it sorted."

"Listen to me--"

"You in position, Ghost?" Price asks calmly.

"Affirmative, sir."

"Good. Gaz and I will be there shortly. When I signal, you take out as many as you can. We'll clean up the rest. Until then, stay hidden. We don't need a body count of our own."

You ease your finger off the comm, hands shaking. A fucking bloodbath? That's Price's plan? You think back to how he stared across the interrogation table at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement at the barbs you threw back at him. He'd have killed anyone else.

No, focus. You pull the earpiece out and rip the radio unit, cords and all, away from you. It clatters to the ground. A few of your squadmates glance over. You push your way through them until Horangi's eyes fall on you. Johnny’s do, too, but you refuse to look at him.

"He's obviously military,” you say, pinning Horangi with as severe a look as you can summon. “You can't just kill him. You know what would happen."

Horangi scoffs and looks back down at Soap. "He could be impersonating a soldier for all I know. Besides, military mutts bark." He presses the muzzle of his rifle harder into Soap's skull. "So bark, or I shoot."

"If you let me up right now," Soap growls, "I won't rip your goddamn hands off. How about that?" 

Horangi tuts. "You're in no position to be making threats, mutt. Answer me or I'll shut you up permanently. Who gave you the intel?”

"He's not the only one," you interrupt again, talking fast. "He's... His team. They're looking for him."

Horangi’s gaze rises to you again, a strange look in his eye. You've said too much. "Where have you been?" he asks you with a hard stare.

"With the protectee."

"And where is he now?"

Silence swells between you and him. You feel your teammates' eyes on you now. This is your last chance to walk away. If you do, the path ahead of you will be free and clear. And whatever blood is spilled here in service of this stupid mission will be on your hands.

Soap sees the look on your face. "No, hen, don't--"

"I'm the rat," you say. "I fed him the information. The protectee is dead."

Soap curses and tries to lunge to his feet. Horangi pushes him down with the heel of his boot between his shoulder blades. Soap grunts in pain.

"How interesting," Horangi says. "And why would you do that?"

"Don't listen to her," Soap growls. "She's lyin'."

He's still fighting the cuffs around his wrists. His shoulders jerk with every tug, trying in vain to break the plastic tie. A horrible feeling clutches at his chest. He knows what you're doing, and everything in him rebels against the idea. He's so close to finally having you, so close to saving you from yourself.

He never wanted you to come here. He wanted you safe, far away. The thought of something happening to you is far worse than any of the pain he might have endured if you hadn’t come back for him.

You risk a glance at Soap. He looks stricken. You almost wish you could explain, but it wouldn't make a difference. He should know better. You do your job. That's who you are. Even if it means there’ll be hell to pay.

You force your eyes back to Horangi's. "The bastard deserved it," you say simply.

Horangi scoffs. "Obviously. And we deserve our paychecks.” He watches Soap struggle under his boot. "You know him?"

You glance down at Soap, taken off guard. "He's..."

Soap meets your gaze, his eyes still burning with fire despite the situation. “Hen,” he says. “You are makin’ a mistake.”

Horangi leans onto Soap’s shoulder, pinning him flatter. Soap grunts.

Horangi smirks. “He seems to know you. You know, if it were me, I'd just keep my mouth shut and let him take the blame. That's what he wants, isn't it?” He jabs the barrel of his rifle against Soap’s spine.

Soap’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t take his eyes off you.

"In fact," Horangi muses, "I might be more inclined to believe him than you. Not to mention our employer would be very disappointed to know someone on payroll sabotaged a very well-paying job. I don’t think you’d do that unless you had a good reason.”

You hear your teammates murmur behind you. Horangi is giving you an out. Your teammates will know what you did, but KorTac won't. Plausible deniability brings back the possibility of escape. You're shocked Horangi would offer at all, knowing now what you did.

But you steel yourself. You know what you have to do. "Check his left arm," you tell him.

Horangi examines you, but there's no skepticism in his eyes—only intrigue. He gestures to a few of the mercs behind you. Two push past you. They hold Soap down, and Horangi grabs Soap's cuffed wrists and pushes his sleeve up his arm. It's there plain as day—the soulmark bearing your name.

Soap grits his teeth. You're giving yourself up for him. You're going to take the fall in exchange for his freedom. Why can't you just do one goddamn thing he wants you to do? It should be him protecting you.

He tries to catch your eye again, but you look away from his furious glare. Deep down, a part of him understands you. That infuriates him even more. You're doing this out of some sick sense of duty. Just like everything else.

Horangi is impassive. "Ah. Guess that explains it."

A hand comes down hard on your shoulder, and you're pulled back hard as two of your teammates take you by the arms and ziptie you. You don't struggle. One of them kicks out the back of your knee and forces you to kneel. 

Soap snarls as he tries to shake the mercenaries pinning him down. "Get your hands off her!"

Horangi smirks down at Soap. "You really do like each other, eh? Cute."

Soap's blood burns through him. All his systems are haywire. He's angry at you, but he's more furious than he's ever been in his life at the men holding him down. He jerks again, taking one of the mercs by surprise. He manages to get to one knee before they're on him again, joined by two more of your comrades who stream in to help.

They force him to the ground once more. Horangi digs his knee into Soap's back and jabs him with the butt of his rifle. Another merc kicks a boot into his gut. But Soap doesn't stop. He's not going down without a fight. He won't sit there quietly and let anyone walk away with his woman.

Horangi looks down his rifle at Soap and rests his hand on the trigger, his smirk gone. "Careful," he says, voice low. "I still might just shoot you."

"Then you'd better kill me in one shot, because when I get my hands around your fuckin' neck--"

"Johnny, stop," you interject.

"Why?" he growls. "You think I'm just gonna sit here and watch you give yourself up?"

"You don't have a choice."

"The hell I don't."

Horangi pushes his rifle harder against Soap's skull. "Listen to her, mutt."

"Hey," you snap at him. One of your comrades behind you pulls your arms back, and you realize you're unconsciously fighting to get close. "Let him go."

When Soap sees you straining against your binds, trying to reach him, his heart clenches. He lets out a stream of expletives and throws his body weight against the mercs trying to hold him down.

"You care for him that much? Then again, I guess you don't have a choice."

"Horangi—"

“Yes, yes. Relax,” Horangi says to you, keeping his rifle trained on Soap. “I don’t plan to kill him. But we're not uncuffing him. Because we're not fucking idiots," he mutters. He steps off Soap and nods toward the back of the lounge where the bar and kitchen are. "Put him in the walk-in."

The mercs pull him roughly to his feet, jerking his arms behind his back. His gaze flicks to you, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you won't meet his eyes. It's like you're trying to shut him out completely, closing yourself into some emotional void. Just like in that interrogation room. He can’t fucking stand it.

Soap growls in frustration as he's hauled backward. He's torn between anger and desperation, wanting to make you understand how much he needs you. But you're so stubbornly set on building your stupid walls and keeping him out.

"This never would've happened if you'd just let me handle it," he snaps at you. "But you had to go runnin' off by yourself instead of listenin’ to me."

You stare at him in disbelief. He's still arguing this? How headstrong is he? "You're the one who refused to rat me out!” you retort, unable to stop yourself. “I was out the fucking window when you went all heroic and forced me to come back and save your ass!"

Soap's temper flares hotter. "Oh, I'm the one who went all heroic?" He yanks his arm against his captors' grip, but it hardly slows them down. “You’re the bloody martyr, aren’t you? Couldn't just let me handle it. Had to go sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."

"You with a fucking gun to your head? That was you handling it?"

"I've been in worse situations," Soap shoots back, bristling. "I didn't need your help. And I damn sure don’t want you throwin’ yourself into danger like you've got a death wish."

You swallow. You were right to step in and take the fall for what you did, you realize. As rough-tempered as your soulmate is, he's just trying to protect you. He deserves better than you.

"This is... it's what I deserve," you say finally.

Soap's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression going from anger to shock to cold fury. "What you deserve?" he hisses, his voice low and enraged. "What you deserve is a good smack upside the head. You think you deserved to throw your life away for my sake? That's how little you think of yourself?"

"I betrayed my teammates and ruined our contract. I have to pay for that."

He's so fucking over it. You’re letting yourself be ripped away from him because of—what, a mistake you made? Loyalty to your team? Some misguided sense of penance and responsibility? Empty excuses. None of that should matter. You’re meant to be his.

"I don't give a damn what you think you deserve,” he says. “You're not the one who gets to decide that."

"And you are?"

You're looking at him like you don't believe him. It makes something in him snap loose.

"You still think you're expendable," he says, his voice hard. "As long as everyone else is safe. As long as you've done your bloody duty." He jerks his shoulders, angry and desperate to have you in his sight for a few more seconds. "Whatever you tell yourself, you’d best remember you made your goddamn choice to take what Iwanted most away from me. I swear to you, darlin’, when I get out of these cuffs, I will find you and make sure you never leave my sight again. That’s what I deserve.”

You say nothing. Your heart is in your feet as they wrestle him away.

You’re not worth this. You can't be. You've shown him—all but told him you were ready to abandon him mere minutes ago. He just doesn't care. Regardless of what you think, he keeps deciding you're worth the fucking trouble.

You're just trying to do one thing right by him. One thing. But he has to go and tear your heart in two about it anyway. Bastard.

"Let go of me!" Soap barks, voice echoing behind you as they drag him out of sight.

The sound of the large, industrial steel walk-in freezer banging open echoes through the basement, followed by clattering and Horangi barking orders. Then it slams closed.

That's it, then. The last time you'll see him.

You believe him when he says he'll never stop looking for you. You might be stubborn and set in your ways—he happens to be worse. But you know your employer, and you know what happens to traitors who kill the charges they're paid to protect. Regardless of what seemed right at the time.

You know there are prisons with which the CIA won’t interfere.

You're going to live the rest of your life in a cell. Because of your own damn sense of responsibility for some twisted form of penance for your past.

The moment you hear the lock on the walk-in click, whatever solemn self-assurance you felt turns to ash in your mouth. Penance bears a strong resemblance to empty self-righteousness and self-hatred. Worse—it feels a hell of a lot like you're condemning your stubborn bull of a soulmate to a lifetime of searching for a woman who refuses out of spite to be found.

Horangi and the others return, and the two mercenaries at your sides haul you away. You stumble along with them, numb. They drag you out of the building and push you toward the back of a bulletproof KorTac panel van.

What have you done?

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / [part 10] / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime (pt. 4)

summary: logan goes to your apartment late in the night to make things right. finally. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader tags / warnings: angst - post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), no use of y/n. word count: 1.2k a/n: so i certainly wasn't going to go this route for this chapter (it was originally gonna consist of a lot of yelling and all of that, but there is a softness to logan and add this song... i just couldn't write it the way i originally wanted). but anyway! thank you to everyone who's read this story - it holds a special place in my heart. i think we have one more chapter left before i consider this complete! our bb logan deserves a happy ending and i don't think i can torture him anymore lol. stay tuned though bc i'm gonna continue writing more for this character (i'm so obsessed). song lyrics will be in italics btw song: you are the reason by calum scott prev. part - next part.

Of course it’s raining. 

Logan shouldn’t have taken his motorcycle, but he wanted to get to you as fast as he could. There aren’t that many cars this late at night, but he still does have to swerve between traffic to get to your apartment. He’s drenched by the time he approaches your street, parking his motorcycle on the first spot he sees along the curb. He strokes his wet hair away from his face as he feels the heaviness weigh on his chest – he doesn’t know if you’d even hear him out, but he has to try. 

It isn’t until he gets near your apartment that he realizes maybe coming to your apartment this late in the night wasn’t a good idea. But he stops in his tracks when he sees you step out, immediately getting drenched in your oversized crewneck and plaid pajama pants. Despite the heavy rain, Logan knows you’ve been crying. Can see the way you cross your arms over your chest as you bite down on your lower lip. He can hear your heart beating, can hear how you’re stifling your sobs, can hear you whisper over and over: I’m so tired. I’m so tired. I’m so tired.

He isn’t sure why you’ve come outside, why you’re standing in the pouring rain, but he knows that he wants to pull you into his arms. Logan slowly begins to walk towards you, careful not to startle you. As he gets closer and closer to you, Logan feels the sudden urge to reach out to you, to wipe your tears away, to tell you that he’s here. 

And that he isn’t going anywhere. 

You don’t hear him and you’re so close to just yelling, screaming at the top of your lungs and asking the universe why? Why did it take your Logan away only to bring some version of him back? A version that wanted nothing to do with you? 

Your hands curl into fists, tears streaming down your face, hair and clothes completely soaked. You’re about to turn back around to go inside because you feel that if you stay out here another minute longer, you’re surely going to lose it. And you can’t. Laura still needs you. 

And you still need to be strong for her. 

Just as you’re about to reach for the handle of your front door, you hear his voice. It’s quiet, but it’s loud enough that you can hear it past the rain. You feel like your heart is beating out of your chest when your eyes meet his. 

Time suddenly seems to stand still as you stare into each other’s eyes. You’re standing on your front steps with Logan on the sidewalk, gazing up at you. You can see the look on his face, the complete vulnerability that he’s displaying as he stares up at you.

All of his guarded walls are down. For you. Only ever for you. 

There goes my heart beating 'Cause you are the reason I'm losing my sleep Please come back now

Slowly, he takes a step closer to you and you do the same. Neither of you say anything, the sound of the rain encompassing the both of you. You feel so overwhelmed with emotion and just like earlier that night, you yearn to reach out for him, to just be pulled into his arms. 

Logan can feel his own tears pool at the corners of his eyes as he keeps his gaze on you. He deserves this. He deserves you. He deserves a second chance to make things right. To be happy. To be loved. By you.

And there goes my mind racing  And you are the reason  That I'm still breathing  I'm hopeless now

As you take a step closer to him, so does Logan. Now standing in front of each other, mere inches separating your bodies, Logan reaches up to cup your cheek. You let out a shaky breath and shut your eyes momentarily, leaning into his touch as you bring a hand up to wrap around his wrist. Logan inhales sharply, your touch electrifying him once more. 

When your eyes flutter open, Logan steps closer, head dipping lower… 

I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you And fix what I've broken

“In every lifetime and in every universe,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your lips. “I’m yours.” 

Your hand tightens around his wrist as your other hand comes up to rest on his chest. Tears pool around your eyes as the rain continues to come down. “Logan…”

“And with every fiber of my being, I will always love you.” Logan clears his throat, resting his forehead gently against yours as he brushes his nose with yours. 

Your hand on his chest clutches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him flush against you. Logan’s hand drops from your cheek to rest on your hip, lips pressing lightly on your cheek. 

And if I could turn back the clock I'd make sure the light defeated the dark I'd spend every hour, of every day Keeping you safe

It isn’t until your hands move to wrap around his shoulders that Logan snakes his arms around your waist to pull you flush against him. He holds you tightly to his chest, burying his face against the side of your neck. 

This… This is where he belongs. With you. 

He lets out a sigh of relief and tightens his hold on you when he feels your body begin to tremble with quiet sobs. This is as much of a relief for you as it is for him. This is your second chance and while your Logan will forever hold a special place in your heart, you feel lucky enough to be able to get another chance with a version of him. 

The rain continues to pour down on the both of you, not bothersome in the slightest. Slowly, he pulls back enough to look down at you. His eyes move lower until he gazes at your lips and then back up at your eyes. Logan brings a hand up to rest on your cheek, gently brushing the pad of his thumb against you.

I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you

“I’d love you in every lifetime,” you repeat from the first night you saw him. “And that includes this one.”

“I’m here,” Logan whispers. “I’m with you, bub.”

You nod slowly, bringing your hands to gently push his wet hair away from his face. Logan’s lips turn upwards as his lips brush against yours lightly and it takes everything in him not to just kiss you because he knows that you both have a long way to go. 

But he wants you to know that he’s no longer going to run. 

He’s going to be here, right by your side. 

Just like how it should be in this universe, in his universe, and in every universe out there. 

This was right where he belonged. 

'Cause I need you to see That you are the reason

“Logan?” you whisper, eyes gazing down at his lips.

“Yeah, darlin’?” 

“Kiss me,” you say quietly. “Please…”

Logan smiles, his hand splaying on the side of your neck as his thumb brushes against your jawline. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and leans in to press his lips against yours. 

Finally.

--

taglist: @its-in-the-woods @mynatureworld @wadewnstonwilson @squishyfruitloop @maybedisaster

@kellyxo1 @m1cky-y-y @flowersforbucky @namikyento

[venuzasmuse]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐞. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

— the holidays are meant to be festive, free of heartache and solemnity, but odds are forever not in your favor as you spend the holidays with your best friend alongside her sister, that broke your heart.

[rockstar!ellie au, best friend’s sister!ellie, kinda mean!ellie (for a few parts of the story)]

previous, next

warnings: reader is afab, not proofread, mature language, mentions of substance abuse (drugs), ellies a dick in this chapter srry guys, WHOLE LOTTA ANGST. smut & fluff in later chapters. POC FRIENDLY !!

this chapters kinda long because it’s still introducing the reader & ellie’s relationship dynamic so bare with me pls pls pls

upon arriving in texas, a wave of nostalgia washes over you as you peered over the horizons of the buzzing city streets.

the traffic was still— as long as you could remember— terrible. pedestrians raided the roads as if they had enough lives for the people on it and tenfold. you can recount the amount of days you'd be late for school because your brother, simon, took obnoxiously long in the bathroom. you could almost still smell his putrid sauvage cologne from here. the strong scent filling your senses— your head spun nauseatingly so.

you grapple with the map in your hand, flipping it every which way trying to give yourself a sense of reassurance as you and sarah navigated through the intersections. you loved your best friend but you couldn't sugarcoat the fact that her love for detours affected her driving skills poorly.

she'd listen to her gps for the first few hours and eventually get fed up with the alterations that emitted from the older device, completely tossing the given routes out of the window and using her intuition as a sense of direction instead.

"jesus, has texas always been this confusing?" the blonde exasperated, a heavy hand coming down to the steering wheel as a blare emitted from the vehicle.

you shoot her a glare that goes unnoticed and the car jerks as she overpasses the poor old lady in front of her.

"does it hurt you to have any patience?" you groan out. you slump in your seat and throw your head back against the headrest tiredly.

"patience never did anyone any good before." she declares sheepishly, a playful smile spreading across her pretty face.

your head lolls to the side to face the side of her head and you give her a playful eye roll.

"i swear to God, if we ever get caught in a drive by, i'd never let you live it down. even in hell."

she laughs a throaty laugh. sarah grabs your hand giving it a squeeze and shake, her demeanor excited.

"come on! don't be so grim. aren't you excited to be going back home? i mean it's been years." she switches to another lane, eyes trained on the rear view. "my dad is super excited to have you back. he said you're welcome as long as you need to be."

"that's only because we never gave him a choice before." you prompt. the two of you giggle.

"you know what i mean. i'm so hungry— maybe we can hit up mel's diner when we get there. i'd kill for their cheeseburgers right now."

you glance at the gps. "2 1/2 hours left" before y'all were to reach your destination. you groan, pulling your hat down to shield your face away from the blaring sun beaming down on your skin.

you'd be lying if you said that you had gotten any shut eye the night before. too plagued with overthinking, the dead of the night was filled with the sound of tossing and turning as you fought against yourself at an amateur attempt to soothe your own nerves.

trepidation dripped down your soul. you weren't sure how finally seeing ellie again for the first time would enfold. you had a plan to simply just avoid her but you knew you probably weren't going to keep up with that very long.

ellie was persistent and if she had any plan to resolve things, it wouldn't go unnoticed by a long shot. no matter how hard you tried to steer clear of it.

sarah knew about the reason why the two of you broke up. she was sympathetic enough to take your feelings about seeing her sister again after 2 and half dreadful years.

she witnessed first hand the aftermath of what ellie did to you. a brutal 9 nine months of you trying to build yourself high enough on a pedestal to be able to move on completely. she listened to you every step of the way, her ears open and her arms empathetic with every tear shed.

it was even worse when the media coverage began getting ahold of their band. 7 months after you and ellie had stopped talking completely due to your nasty breakup, her band rose to stardom and you could still remember how much dread washed over you to hear the sound of her playing on the radio for the first time.

you avoided her, in every way you could. if that meant no music for months until the hype of her album died down even just a little bit, then so be it.

but the limelight wasn't always as glamorous. you alongside of her family, despite not having heard from her in years, knew about how she'd been living because once the tabloids got a hold of her, the only thing plaguing the media coverage was about ellie.

who she was spotted with, newly sparked dating rumors as she was seen with a different girl nearly every month, and even the downfall of her newly acquired fame.

in pure janis joplin fashion, the height of her success came crashing down as people started suspecting ellie to be abusing drugs. it started when people began to notice how blasted she was in a few interviews. her nodding off didn't go unnoticed by a long shot.

in the spotlight, instances like this weren't uncommon.

you watch a talented person rise to the top, their talent evident as day as they showed it off to the word come plummeting down in a wave of wasted potential due to drugs and or alcohol. it was tragic and despite being as angry as you were with her, seeing the girl you grew up with live the way she was, created a moggy feeling in your chest.

eventually, the band made an announcement that their tour would've had to gone on a break due to "complications" but you and everyone else knew it was because ellie was in rehab.

as soon as she was discharged, the ongoing scarcity of contact between her and her family came to a brusque halt when joel offered for his daughter to come back home, at least until she was ready enough to face her new life again.

so when you found out that she'd be spending christmas with y'all, there was no doubt in your mind you'd have to brace yourself for whatever outcome would emerge from it.

"i'm gonna try and get some sleep. we still have a long way to go."

sarah boos at your resignation, exclaiming a few declarations about how you're leaving her to die of boredom. "you suck!"

you don't respond, simply smiling and turning your head as you're inevitably wisked away into a state of slumber.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

a somber tune draws out a melancholic melody on your record player, filling the corners of your cavernous room. the night breathes life through a soft breeze that grazes past your curtains. yet, as the sun sets and the cicadas begin to shriek, no amount of words in the english language can drown out the bitterness that sits in the pit of your chest.

no amount of rephrasing could rewrite the sorrow that consumes you whole, in this moment or the next.

you sit with the grief as your gaze lingers on the girl in front of you. ellie sits on the edge of your bed. she's faced away from you, as always, as she stares ahead at the neon lights that seep through the crevices of your room.

clouds of smoke forms around her figure with practiced cinematic effort and your eyes take her in with taut admiration.

you usually dread when the room grows quiet like this. the silence is blinding and tension is permeated in your walls. it leaves you high and dry and guts you with cynicism.

you wait for the moment for her to slip back into bed with you but it never comes. the thought of not being the placeholder of such intimacy rings in your ears like a bad case of tinnitus.

at least not this time around.

you sit up crawling towards her in desperate attempt to get her to look at you. you wrap your arms around her neck, resting your chin on her bare shoulder. empty viridescent eyes scan your face yet you can't seem to deconstruct any love tucked away behind them.

you knew deep down that what once existed fondly between the two of you was stripped away, little to nothing— a scarce void of recognition.

“what’s going on?” you hum out lovingly, as you press a prolonged kiss to her shoulder. “been quiet all night.”

the auburn headed girl heaved out a sigh as she dropped her head in her hands. she braced herself to face you, taking your wrists in her callused palms as she brought your hands to her mouth, pecking the backs tenderly.

“i.. i think we should talk.” she finally vocalizes. the words shoot fear down your spine, goosebumps arising were her lips once resided.

“about what?”

she gives you a look as she turns her body to face you, straightening her back a little bit more. “so you know how i’ve been getting to practice with the band lately? because their guitarist ended up quitting?”

you watched her for a moment skeptically before nodding.

her words are caught in her throat momentarily as she looks down once more. “well, cat and them asked me to join their band.” a glimmer of gleam passes across her face as she breathes out a breath she was holding.

you furrow your brows, a smile breaking onto your face. “that’s great! i’m so happy for you!” you exclaim, grabbing her chin in between your finger to press a proud kiss onto her cheek.

you knew how long ellie had wanted to be apart of something like this. after years of supporting her, you were filled to the brim with joy that she was finally reaching a steppingstone to where she wanted to be in life.

yet, you could tell something was still bothering her as she tensed up in your embrace. “well, they offered me to join but..”

“but..” you trail, eyes still held with hope.

“cat said she knew someone in los angeles that knew someone that could get us signed to a record label. the only downside is we’d have to move over there.”

your face fell as her words fell on sensitive ears.

“move?” you let out a nervous chuckle. “but.. los angeles is across the country.”

capturing her bottom lip in between her teeth, you watch as she gnaws down on it regrettably.

of course, you were elated for her. over the moon.

hell, you would’ve done anything for ellie to make this happen for her, one way or another. but hearing the catch of finally being able to pursue her dreams had you feeling selfishly opposed to the idea.

surely, she wouldn’t have made such a rash decision without taking it up with you first. ya’ll had so many plans that were already set in stone. all you wanted was at least a heads up if they were going to be altered to accustom to ellie’s new schedule pertaining to her band.

“so, what did you say?” your tone faltering from ecstatic to one that could’ve fell on deaf ears if not attentive enough.

“i said yes. i agreed that i’d go with them.” her word vomit rushes out like a fountain and your hands drop from her face as you turn away from her in shock. she grabs your smaller face in her hands, as she tips her head down to meet your avoidant gaze. you shut your eyes, muttering out a “shit” as you felt the pathetic rush of tears burn at the back of your eyelids.

“baby, i couldn’t pass this up. this is my chance to finally get out of this town. i’ve wanted this for so long.” she pleads, dropping down to her knees in front of you.

“why didn’t you wait to at least talk to me about it, ellie? three months ago, we were just planning on moving in together! and what? now you’re just about to dismiss any say that i had in this?”

she lets out an exasperated sigh of defeat as she bargains with her response.

“this is about my future! this is something i’ve wanted for years!” she encompasses her bottom lip back in between her teeth, scavenging her scattered brain to make this situation better.

“you can come with me! didn’t you always tell me you’d follow me anywhere?”

you scoff, shaking your head. “i can’t just pack up my things and run away to los angeles like this with you. it’s expensive there and with the money we have saved up, we wouldn’t last a year in a place like that with just the two of us. we’d need more time.”

don’t cry. don’t cry. you think to yourself as you feel the waterworks begin to churn.

“we could figure it out! cat mentioned a bunch of-”

you scoff at the mention of the girl’s name as you stood up from your place on the bed, walking over towards your window as you dug your fingers through your unkempt hair.

“i can’t believe you made a decision about this with cat before you even mentioned it to me. i should’ve known it was deeper than that.”

ellie stops in her tracks, an expression of hurt painted across her face at the idea of you believing she had concealed intentions between her and cat. but could you really blame yourself ? it would’ve been hard on any girl to see that her significant other’s time was consumed by another girl. especially with the considerable amount of times they spent alone together.

you would’ve been a fool to not suspect anything at all but your love for ellie ran too deep; you didn’t think you could handle it if you lost her to another girl. so you kept quiet, giving her the benefit of the doubt and begged venus herself for the girl to not prove you right.

“it was never deeper than anything.” her tone was stilled as she stared at you with accusatory.

“can you blame me ellie? i mean seriously. you’ve been alone with her more in these past few months than you’ve even talked to me! some days, i don’t even hear from you at all because you’re with her!” your voice goes up an octave as tears begin to spill from your eyes.

“it’s because of—”

“what? the band?” you cut her off, not wanting to hear her myriad of excuses. “i see the way you look at her. you look at her like she’s the only thing you see.” you brush past her to grab your shirt, pulling it over your head hastily.

“the lingering looks, the canceled plans, the way you never tell her to stop fucking holding onto your arms the way she fucking does!” bitterness begins to overpower the solemnity paying homage to the pit of your heaving chest as you jostle her scroll of excuses back to her.

“i mean, god, ellie. has it ever occurred to you that you still have obligations to set boundaries in this relationship?” your tone is constraint from going back to normal.

“are you fucking serious?” she snaps, the pitch of her voice blending with yours in a chaotic cacophony. “i’m trying to tell you about how big of a deal this band is to me, trying to make up solutions, and you’re accusing me of leaving for fucking cat?”

“i mean it was her idea, wasn’t it?” you countered. you were at your breaking point with ellie. you felt like nothing you said would ever change her perspective so you gave up.

you no longer wanted to fight for someone that couldn’t care to think twice about how their actions inflicted hurt on you.

maybe this wasn’t about her leaving anymore. instead, as the conversation became more clear, the realization settled when you realized you were losing her.

“i’m not doing this with you.” you watch as ellie gathered her things in fit of rage, throwing on her flannel and slipping her feet back into her converses as grabbed her bag, ready to walk out.

a feeling of dread quickly dissipates all of the fury you momentarily had as you rush towards her, wanting to resolve this before the two of you went to bed upset.

“ellie. come on, please.” you grab her face, pleading with eager eyes for her to not leave when things began to get bad.

you knew your girlfriend was stubborn. often alternating between fight or flight when reality began to corner her. but you knew, this time was different. no matter what the two of you chose to do, it would change the trajectory of your lives together.

she avoids your eyes and you feel the warmth cascade down your face heavily. “don’t walk out on me. please. not like this.”

she finally looks at you and it’s hard to read her.

“i need to do this for me. not for anyone else. i’m not going to wait for you to change your mind if some ulterior motive you think i have will always be in the backside of your mind.” she asserted, planted in her obstinance.

“if you leave now, i’m not gonna wait for you to come back.”

her eyes scanned your own down to your lips back to your eyes before grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from her.

“that’s up to you.” was the last thing she said as she turned to walk out of your empty house. the moment you heard the door slam shut, you dropped to your knees as the tears began to pour.

if there was one thing ellie was good at, it was keeping her word. ever since the the two of you were puny little teenagers, she still managed to keep ahold of all of her promises, even the smallest most frivolous ones.

it was something you loved about her because it showed her resilience and firmness. her ability to stand her ground. but as you sit with your hot head in your hands against the comfort of your bed that still smelled like her, you wished so desperately that the one quality you admired so much, wasn’t something she attained.

you knew there was no use in trying to change her mind or waiting for her to. she was set in her ways and held no exemptions, not even for you.

it was a thick pill to swallow but you knew, the moment she walked out that door, it was over.

the next few days were filled with no contact. your phone was sparse of any calls or messages except for one from your mother asking you to defrost the chicken or the occasional check up from your friends when they learned about what happened.

your room was a ghost town. her presence haunting you as a constant reminder in every corner. you couldn’t run away from her even if you wanted to.

you wished you were stronger in your ways. it would’ve saved you your dignity if you were prideful but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be. you were the worst at staying mad— just wanting to fix things with your girl.

you even racked up some ideas about how ya’ll could make this arrangement work in a heap of desperation.

so when you rendered yourself enough courage to face the situation at hand, you made your way over to her house. you were hopeful that she wasn’t completely set in throwing it all away.

but when you reached her front door, all you were met with was a note that joel gave you that was left to him by ellie. his eye bags were deep showcasing his worry and lack of sleep and you saw a few more grey tendrils in his salt and pepper hair.

ellie had left a few mornings after the fight between the two of you. she left no trace of her behind to be gotten ahold of and you, joel, or sarah hadn’t heard from her since.

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